Kay Writes

I love writing, love you all, and this space and community means so much to me. It always has. But has I've grown, my life has changed, and my writing has changed, I've written less and less fanfiction in the past year than any year prior. It's sad for me to realize, but...it had to come.

I have so many ideas for stories brewing, and all of them are begging to come out as books to publish, and I want to write those. I want to write books that everyone regardless of fandom can enjoy if they want, and I need to start doing so.

What does this mean?

Well first, I'll be posting sporadically rather than every Saturday. I'll be posting as ideas come to me, not forcing myself to write for a schedule. I will try to post a warning the night before, so everyone knows what's coming, but that's not a guarantee. If you want to stay up to date on what's posted, I'd recommend getting notifications from this blog, as it's only for my writing.

Second, all of this means that my current ongoing series, Diamond in the Rough, will be on a hiatus of sorts. I don't know when the next part will be posted, and I'm sorry about that. I love this series and have so much planned, but my brain is refusing to write any of it right now.

Waving a weak hello to the security guard, you continued on to the breakroom, setting your things into your locker. Putting the finishing touches on your uniform, you heard the breakroom door open, not glancing up to see who it was.

“Y/N!”

You glanced up and couldn’t help but smile softly as you met Steven Grant’s gaze. “Hi,” you muttered.

He smiled and moved towards you. “I was waiting for you to come in. The day has been crazy so far, so many kids! It’s…”

You nodded, trying to listen as he rambled about his shift so far. Steven was one of the first people to be truly nice to you here, and you both had just hit it off without any issues. He was kind, helpful, a great listener, and knew so much when you asked the right questions.

On a normal day, you could listen to him talk for hours, but….today you were struggling.

“Y/N?”

You snapped out of your own thoughts, blinking and meeting his gaze, a concerned furrow on his brow. “Sorry, you were saying?” you asked.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly, glancing over you.

You waved him off, shutting the locker. “I just- I slept wrong. Don’t worry about me.”

Steven nodded slowly, the worry not fading at all from him. “Okay. Well at least we get to work together, right?”

You mustered up a smile, nodding. “We do.”

Even if you had barely heard Steven say it was crazy, you had figured just how crazy it was within an hour of your shift.

Things constantly needed restocked, there was always a line at the register, within an hour 3 items had been broken by kids not being watched after by parents, and if the kids weren’t screaming then their parents were huffy and awful to you.

The worst part of it all was that despite working with Steven, you had only actually spoken to him before you clocked on. He always had a way of making shifts better, making you smile and have fun during a shift. But with just how busy it was, you two had barely exchanged a glance in the past hour.

With how awful you were feeling before work, you had a feeling that today was not going to go well.

You had been correct.

“Are you stupid?!” the lady screamed at you, pointing at the locked display. “Locking up items like that is ridiculous!”

You winced at her tone, fighting to hold back tears. “It-it’s to stop thefts, ma’am, I’m sorr-”

“MA’AM?!” she screeched, glaring at you now. “That is offensive and rude! First you deny me and my child the toy he wants, and now you’re insulting me?!”

“I-it-that item is made of glass and very fragile, ma-miss,” you muttered, feeling your hands start to shake now.

She scoffed, folding your arms. “Well now I know that this place only hires staff they know is rude as well as incompetent and stupid.”

You flinched at her insults, feeling the tears build further in your eyes. You didn’t respond as she continued on, throwing offensive after offensive comment at you and the store.

It only continued on for a minute before your manger stepped to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry about all of this,” she cooed to the customer, her fake, sickly sweet tone making you want to curl in on yourself.

Your manager turned to you, muttering with a hostile tone, “Go calm down in the back.”

You only managed to nod in response before turning on your heel and darting to the breakroom. The door barely shut as you crumpled to the floor, letting the tears overtake you.

You sobbed as softly as you could, trying to wipe away the tears as they flowed down your cheeks. You hated feeling this way, just crappy and exhausted. There was no large reason you felt so bad, and it felt like nothing would help except disappearing.

You stiffened as you heard the door open, turning your back towards the door as it shut. “I’m fine, I just need-”

“You are not fine, love.”

You looked up, nearly sagging with relief as you saw Steven. He kneeled down in front of you, his hands gently resting on your arms. Shaking your head, you leaned into him, trying not to cry too much on his shirt.

Without a word, his arms wrapped around you, more comforting than you thought anything could be right now. “What happened?” he muttered.

“I’m…struggling today,” you whispered into his shoulder.

Steven rubbed your back slowly. “I’m sorry, love. You deserve good days, not anything close to that rude lady yelling at you.”

You shook your head, pulling away from him slightly, enough to meet his eyes. “I can deal with customers like that normally, I just…”

He cupped your right cheek gently, wiping away the tears. “You shouldn’t have to,” he insisted. “People should be nicer to you.”

“I don’t care about them,” you muttered, looking down at your hand gripping his shirt. “I’m fine when…you’re nice to me. That’s all I need.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment, before Steven leaned in and kissed your other cheek.

You gasped in shock, looking up and meeting his deep brown eyes. He smiled softly and responded, “You’re all I need too, love.”

You held his shirt tighter, almost unable to let him go. His words still rang through your ears, you weren’t entirely sure how to react, what to say now.

Steven though, ever the sweet silly man, leaned in again and kissed the same cheek. “Do you want to say here a while longer?”

You nodded and leaned into him, smiling softly. “Yes please.”

While you knew other people might laugh at your request, you knew he wouldn’t. If you could see his face, you would guess he was probably smiling as his arms settled around you, the weight of his head gently resting on top of yours. “Easily done.”

Feedback fuels me!

Your gaze shot up immediately, smiling as you spied Bucky moving towards you. “Hi there,” you replied, pausing as he moved to your side, both of you continuing down the hall. “What are you up to?”

“Trying to bide time until the celebration later,” he chuckled, sliding his hands into his pockets. Glancing at you, he stated, “You look busy, though.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “More than I’d like. There are a lot of issues I’m apparently suppose to solve.”

“Well…can I help?”

You fought back a blush, waving him off. “Oh, I’ll be fine. You have enough to worry about without helping me with all this stuff.”

“I’m offering, doll,” Bucky stated, his gaze locked onto you. “Besides, isn’t work more fun with someone else to help?”

“Ah…I’ll be fine,” you insisted, feeling like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. Taking a step away as the hall forked, you smiled up at him. “I’ll see you at the party?”

He paused, nodding as you backed away from him. “…Yeah. See you there.”

Turning your back to him, you let out a breath and clutched the pad to your chest. You hated the effect he had on you, how you couldn’t help but smile, how your cheeks heated almost immediately. Why was it so hard to get over this little crush?

Bucky let his fingers run along the ridges in the glass he was holding, mindlessly doing so as his gaze was focused across the room. He couldn’t help it: she was there, laughing with Tony as the man waved his arms, probably telling some dramatic tale.

She was beautiful. Well, she always was, but tonight was…different. She was dressed up, wearing a striking outfit, and the makeup she had put on was different than she normally did. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“You’re staring.”

Bucky looked away from her, glaring at Steve. “You don’t need to remind me,” he muttered, taking a sip of the drink.

Steve chuckled, tilting his head as his blue eyes focused on his closest friends. “Haven’t you been getting closer to her?”

“Trying,” he sighed, glancing at her out of instinct. “I don’t want to just outright tell her how I feel, what if she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Well, that’s easily managed.” 

Both men looked over as Nat approached them, smiling softly. 

“What is?” Steve asked.

“Seeing if she feels the same,” the red head responded, shrugging and swirling the glass of wine in her hand. 

He sighed softly, leveling her with a stare. “Natasha.”

“I’m a spy, Barnes,” she interrupted, already walking away. “Trust me, otherwise you’ll worry too much.”

“Nat!” he cried, trying to get her to come back, but she was already across the room. Cursing softly, took a long drink from his glass, feeling Steve pat his shoulder. 

“It’ll be fine.”

“There you are.”

You turned and smiled as Nat slid towards you, your friend smiling back. “I was wondering when you’d find me,” you teased. 

“Tylers!” Tony cried, waving his hand as he saw someone. Turning to you, he said, “I’ve got to catch him, you stay right here.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, turning to Natasha as he darted off. “Tony saw him twenty minutes ago but didn’t want to leave me alone,” you stated. 

She laughed, sliding her arm through yours. “So, how is…your goal working?”

You sighed, sipping your cocktail. You knew what she was talking about, there was nothing else she could be talking about: trying to squash your crush on a certain Winter Soldier. 

“I’m utterly failing,” you murmured. 

“And what’s wrong with that?” your friend shot back, tilting her head. 

Scoffing, you glared softly at her. “He could never like me, Nat.”

“You don’t know that,” she responded. The glint in her eyes was a mischievous one, the kind of shine where it was clear the other knew something you didn’t. 

“And why do you say that?” you said, narrowing your eyes at her. “What do you know, Nat?”

“Enough,” she winked, pulling you along as she moved to the bar. “But for now, let’s get you a another drink.”

“I haven’t even finished this one!”

“Heading home?”

You looked away from your coat, feeling your heart skip a beat as you met Bucky’s eyes. His hands were in his pockets, his stance almost shy, unsure. But god, if he didn’t look even more handsome dressed up, his light blue shirt making his eyes pop. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding as you held your coat close. “Yeah. Is it winding down or up without me?”

He chuckled, taking a step closer to you. “Tony was making it chaotic, as usuall.”

You smiled softly, sliding your coat on. “Then I’m leaving at the perfect time.”

“Let me walk you back,” Bucky said, glancing outside briefly.

“You don’t have to, I-”

“I want to,” he insisted, his tone firm. “It’s dark out, and I want you to be safe.”

Your breath froze at his words, meeting his gaze. “And…why is that?” you whispered, feeling hope rise in you. Maybe the hope had started with Nat’s comments, but it had only been a small pile of embers, and his words only fanned the flame.

Bucky tilted his head, taking another step closer to you. He was only two or so feet away from you now, the lack of distance making your heart rate pick up. “Because I…I’m falling in love with you,” he stated, his response barely loud enough to be heard over the running fountain behind him. 

You froze entirely, letting your gaze flicker over his face. This…couldn’t be real. No. He couldn’t feel this way about you, could he?

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shook your head with a forced laugh. “You don’t-you can’t mean that,” you responded. You broke the eye-contact, pulling your coat tighter around you. 

“Y/N-”

“I’m going to go, the fresh air will be nice after those drinks,” you rushed, moving towards the door. “Goodnight.”

You gasped softly as the cold night air hit you, pushing yourself down the sidewalk as quickly as you could in heels. What he told you wasn’t real, it had to be a lie of some sort. Or was a lie worse? You couldn’t decide, it was all too much. Your mind was racing and you couldn’t think straight at all. Were you even going the right direction to your apartment?

“Y/N!”

You blinked away tears, hearing him yell your name behind you. “Please, Bucky, don’t-”

He jogged in front of you, stopping and making you pause. “Please, just listen, doll.”

You kept your gaze focused on his chest, away from his pleading eyes. You knew the second you met his gaze, you would break, and that was something you didn’t want to see. “H-however you found out about my feelings, please d-don’t toy with me,” you stuttered out, your voice shaking more than your body felt like it was. 

“I’m not toying with you,” he insisted, stepping closer again. “I meant it.”

You shook your head, gripping your coat tightly. “No, y-you couldn’t feel that way about me.”

“About the most beautiful girl in the world?” Bucky asked. “About one of the sweetest, kindest souls I’ve ever met?”

You shook your head, blinking away tears that threatened to grow at his words. You still couldn’t believe it, believe this was real. 

You could see him take another step forward, and his hand reached out, cupping your cheek. He tilted your chin up, making you meet his gaze. “I started falling for you months ago,” he muttered softly, his eyes shining with honesty. “I’ve been falling for weeks, and every day when I think I couldn’t fall deeper, you smile at me and look at me with your beautiful eyes, and I keep falling in ways I couldn’t imagine.”

“…please tell me this isn’t a dream,” you whispered, feeling a tear streak down your cheek and onto his hand. 

“I swear it’s real,” he responded softly, before leaning in and kissing you. 

Your eyes fluttered shut at the soft kiss, gentle and slow, as if he didn’t want to shock you by the touch. Slowly, you kissed him back, letting go of your own jacket to hold his own, pulling you both closer together. 

You could feel his arm wrap around you as the kiss deepened, showing you that he meant it. It was as if he was giving you a chance to see all the emotions in him, all the love and ache for you. And you…had to show him that you felt the same. Your heart nearly wanted to burst from happiness, knowing this was real, he loved you too. 

Eventually, to your dismay, the kiss ended, both of you catching your breaths as you held onto the other. Bucky smiled, a smile you hadn’t seen before, so full of joy and love as he stared down at you. No words were said as you blushed, smiling back softly. 

He let his forehead rest against yours, taking a breath, as if to remind himself that this was real too. “…told you I meant it,” he muttered. 

You laughed softly, nudging your nose against his. “I love you too….you stubborn man.”

“Your stubborn man,” he corrected.

Feedback fuels me!

As you entered the Hasting estate, you handed the bottle of scotch and the flowers to a butler, instructing it to be put in Simon’s office, before entering the drawing room, smiling at your new friend. “Good day, your Grace,” you greeted. 

“Hello!” she cried, standing. “Please, we are friends, true friends I hope. Call me Daphne.”

You approached her, squeezing her hands. “I would like that immensely. If I am to call you Daphne, then you must call me Y/N.”

She grinned, and you both sat at the table, her maid serving tea. “Thank you for the flowers, by the way,” she muttered. “One of the maids is putting them in a vase right now.”

You laughed softly. “You are welcome. I owed you and your husband after the bet, after all.”

Daphne laughed, shaking her head. “I cannot believe he did that!” 

“Well...the dance worked,” you sighed. “I had almost forgotten what the season brings. The...back and forth, the stares and game of cat and mouse.”

She sipped her tea, sighing as well. “I do not miss it, I must say. It truly is a battlefield.”

“It is!” you laughed, taking your own cup. “Tell me of your own season, I was so sad I missed it.”

She launched into her own story, telling you of meeting Simon, their marriage, and the rest of the season. “Marriage and being a Duchess has been more than I expected,” she finished, pouring more tea. “But I am finally starting to settle in. And especially this season...I am grateful I am already married.”

“I do not blame you,” you muttered. “Only one ball and I was already exhausted.”

“Speaking of the ball,” she said, her smile growing as she turned to you. “Tell me of the dances after the one with my husband.”

You felt your cheeks warm as you looked away, taking a biscuit. “You mean the dances with your brothers?”

“Yes, the very same. Did they behave?”

You laughed, nibbling on the treat. “They did. All three were perfect gentlemen.”

“That is a surprise,” Daphne laughed. “And did you enjoy yourself?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “You sound like my sister-in-law, questioning every aspect of my season already.”

“I am merely curious!” she cried. “Plus, if anyone can help you with those three, it would be me. They are my brothers, after all.”

You paused, glancing up at her. “...they are your...brothers,” you muttered, the realization hitting you. “You truly would not mind if I…spoke to you about them? Asked for help?”

Her eyes widened, and Daphne shook her head as she set her tea down. “Not at all! That’s why I offered, of course. I…” She paused, before glancing at her maid, smiling. “You may go, Rose. We will be alright.”

Her maid nodded and left the room, shutting the door as she left, leaving you both alone. Daphne turned to you, taking your hand and smiling softly. “I would love to help you find love this season. If it is with one of my brothers or not. Especially after…” She paused, squeezing your hands.. “You deserve love, Y/N.”

“I hope I do,” you whispered.

“You do,” she assured, smiling softly. “And I will help you find it. With me, my mother, Lady Danbury, and your sister and brother, you will find it.” Daphne’s grin grew. “Consider me your expert on my brothers.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I may need your expertise, I fear.”

She let go of your hands, grabbing her tea. “Tell me everything.”

You grabbed your own cup, diving into the ball. You told her about the dance with Colin, Benedict and Anthony, all the details and the conversations. 

“Did any of them call on you yesterday?” she asked. 

You took a sip of your tea, glancing up at her. “...all three of them.”

Her eyes widened. “All three?”

“I was as shocked as you were!”

“Well, how did that go?!” she asked, setting down her cup. 

You told her of the morning; them all arriving at the same time with flowers, their conversations with you. 

“Wait, I apologize.” Daphne shook her head. “Benedict invited you to the gallery viewing, Anthony invited you to Promenade tomorrow, and Colin...gave you his notes from Greece?”

You nodded, taking a breath. “That is...strange, yes?”

“Very,” she muttered, furrowing her brows. “They must be smitten with you.”

“You do not think…”

She pursed her lips. “...we shall have to see as events unfold.” Daphne set her tea aside, turning to face you fully. “Colin is easier to read. Kind, fun, loves to read and write. Benedict usually takes longer to open and speak up, but when he does he is passionate. Anthony…”

“He feels harder to read,” you muttered.

“To anyone outside the family, he is,” she agreed. “My best advice for him...would be to stay steady on your course for love. Anthony will either realize you are not meant for him and step back, or accept he loves you and say it back.”

You nodded slowly. “But Colin and Benedict?”

She smiled. “They want to marry for love. They always have. I’m surprised they are looking now, but they do want love.”

You sighed in relief. “Good, good...Then after these...arrangements, I will have to invite you for tea, so we can discuss everything.”

Daphne waved you off. “Lady Danbury knows that myself and my mother want to help you as well. I believe she said something about tea with all of us and your sister sometime soon. We can discuss everything then.”

You laughed as well. “That sounds splendid. Then all I need to do it...prepare to promenade with your brother, and go to a gallery with the rest of your family.”

She laughed again. “You will be fine, I swear.”

The next day, you did not feel fine. 

Waiting for Viscount Anthony Bridgerton at the agreed meeting spot had your nerves higher than you thought they would be, despite everything everyone had told you previously. 

“We are early, my lady,” Mary assured you, smiling softly. “I’m sure he will not be late.”

“Maybe we should not have been early,” you muttered, adjusting the sleeves of your coat. “Will it seem needy?”

“Not at all. We will seem punctual,” your maid replied. 

You glanced at her, taking a deep breath as you forced a smile on your lips. “I should seem less stressed, yes? I should be smiling.”

Mary smiled back, clearly seeing your worry. “Just be yourself, my lady. Do not worry about him. You know what you want, and have other suitors.” She leaned in, whispering, “If he does not fit your requirements, his brothers will.”

You laughed, smiling. “You are correct.”

“And perfect,” she said, leaning away. “I see the Viscount.”

You spun, spying Anthony moving towards you through the park. You kept the smile on your face, clasping your hands as you saw the eyes of others in the park move between you and him, clearly connecting the dots. But they did not matter, you had to focus on him and the promenade, the walk. 

“Good morning, Lady Marlowe,” he greeted, nodding to you. 

You curtsied slightly in return. “Good morning, Viscount Bridgerton.”

“I apologize for making you wait,” he stated, furrowing his brows slightly. “That was not what I intended.”

“Oh, it is no worry,” you assured, waving your hand. “I left too early, and traffic was less than I had assumed. I did not wish to be late, that is all.”

The worry faded from Anthony’s face then, replaced with a small smile, which surprised you. “You are punctual, like I am, then.”

“I try to be,” you commented, trying not to flush. “Sometimes, such as today, it gets the better of me and I am early.”

“Early is better than late,” he stated, holding out his arm. “Shall we, my lady?” 

You nodded and slid your arm through his, both of you starting to walk through the park with Mary following behind you. You could still feel the ton’s eyes on you both, but chose to push them from your mind and focus on Anthony beside you. You remembered Daphne’s words of advice: to just focus on your own journey for love, nothing else. And your course for love meant learning more about him, talking with him, not worrying about anyone else. 

“How have you been, since the ball, my lord?” you asked, glancing at him. “I can only imagine how busy your duties and your family keep you.”

Anthony met your gaze, nodding slowly. “I have been fairly busy, but nothing more than usual. My duties can be taxing, but most evenings my siblings make up for it and I enjoy the time with them.”

You smiled at the idea of him playing with his younger siblings, as you had been told about the family and all the siblings. “That sounds like a wonderful time.”

“How have you been since the ball?” he asked. “I know with my sisters that the experiences are...different for women. Have you been enjoying it, or struggling?”

You were almost shocked speechless by his concern. The man that had interviewed you during your dance was now worried about you, asking if you were struggling already during the season. What had changed in him? 

“It is different,” you stated softly, glancing away from him. “Having been married already, experience society as a married woman as such and then as a widow, I will admit it is harder than I thought it would be to come back into the throws of ballrooms and promenading.”

Anthony nodded. “It is a change, and I hope the ton watching us even now does make you doubt your decision to want to remarry, my lady.”

You smiled slightly, stealing a glance at him. “If a woman is not accustomed to the ton watching, my lord, then she will surely fail. And I am too accustomed to them watching me.”

The corner of his lips turned up, and you wondered what he would look like if he truly smiled. “I am glad to hear they will not intimidate you,” he muttered. 

“I do not think they could if they tried,” you said back. 

He glanced away, and you wondered if you had done something wrong, or even perhaps something right. “I wanted to ask, Lady Marlowe, how is your nephew? Samuel, is that correct? You must be close with him.”

You almost stumbled over your words, wondering how he knew about your dearest nephew, but quickly realized he must know Luke in some form. “I am, I helped care for him during the summer and fall. He’s a sweet boy, already so bright.”

“I almost miss when my siblings were that young,” he chuckled, glancing down at you. “So do you want many children of your own?”

“I would like children, but no set amount,” you stated. “I’d just wish for myself, my husband and our children to be happy and healthy together.”

Anthony nodded slowly, but stayed silent. It was clear as you looked up at him that his mind was wandering somewhere specific, and you knew where. 

“You may ask, Viscount,” you muttered, making him meet your gaze. “About my late husband.”

He cleared his throat, shaking his head. “Oh no, it wouldn’t be polite, my lady.”

You smiled softly. “Well this is me giving you permission, if you’d like to.” You looked away, admiring the view as you two walked slowly. “Everyone still refuses to speak about him.”

You could just barely hear Mary behind you hold back a laugh at your words; in public people refused to mention the previous Baron Marlowe, but in private it was a completely opposite story. You knew as soon as you returned to town that people would speak about him, Luke and Elizabeth did. Luke was well aware of the kind of man his older brother had been, and given the fact that you had only really seen Luke after Thomas had died, the two did not get along. 

“I’m sure they just wouldn’t want to upset you,” Anthony stated, glancing down at you. 

“Are you claiming that you do not wish to upset me as well?” you teased, barely glancing at him from the corner of your eyes. 

To your surprise, he chuckled, turning it into a cough almost immediately. “Of course I do not, my lady. Anyone who wishes to upset a lady is not fit to be in society.”

You laughed softly. “I would hope so.”

Fighting back a shiver at the cold seeping into your bones, you looked at him. “Are you and your family ready for Christmas?”

Anthony nodded, a soft smile on his face. “I think they are. My family loves the holiday, so the excitement is already building.”

“Good, this time of year needs joy.” 

He glanced down at you, a certain twinkle in his eyes. “Perhaps I can convince you to come to dinner close to Christmas?”

You hummed thoughtfully, noticing that he was leading you towards the carriages, yours waiting. He was smarter than you realized: he had notices you were cold, and silently ending the promenade. “Perhaps. If you answer one question, my lord.”

“Of course.” 

You let your hand drop from his arm, facing him as the footman moved to open the carriage door for you and Mary. “Why are you courting me if you know I will only marry for love?” 

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton met your gaze head on, almost as if he had prepared for this exact moment. “I do not fault anyone for wishing to find love, but I know some people cannot. I know without a doubt that I could provide you with a comfortable living, and a happy life, even if we are not in love.” 

You could not blame him for thinking the way he did, most men did in society. But...his openness in being able to provide for you and make you happy, an honesty that felt true in all the ways it had not with your late husband...that was new. 

“Thank you for answering my question,” you muttered, nodding politely to him. “I hope to see you soon, Viscount.”

“Have a wonderful rest of the day, my lady,” he stated, holding up a hand to help you into the carriage. 

As you settled into your seat, Mary sat across from you, the door closing behind her. A moment later the carriage shook to a start, your maid and confidant meeting your gaze. “That went well,” she stated.

“Better than I thought,” you agreed, rubbing your hands together for warmth. “It will be interesting to see how things continue.”

“With the Viscount and his brothers,” Mary commented. 

“...yes.”

“But for now, we will return home and I’ll have chef make you tea and fresh biscuits, warm you up.”

Feedback fuels me!

Over the comms, you could hear Nat yell, “Y/N is down!”

“Y/N!!” Clint cried, making you wince.

“Calm down, Barton,” Steve ordered. “Focus.”

“Y/N, talk to me,” Clint said, ignoring the others.

Raising a hand to the comms, you replied, “I’m alive. Just bruised and sore.”

“They most likely have broken ribs, given the distance they were thrown,” FRIDAY informed over the comms.

“Not helping,” you muttered, opening your eyes. You could see the canopy of trees above you, the sunlight filtering down through the leaves.

It was calming, pretty, if you were honest with yourself. If it wasn’t for the sound of your other team members fighting around you and through your earpiece.

“Y/N!” you heard Clint scream, not over the comms now.

You tried to look towards the fight, groaning in pain at the movement and letting your head fall back down. A moment later, You heard knees skid on the dirt, and Clint’s face appeared in your vision. His eyes darted over you hovering but not touching. “Where does it hurt? Are you okay?”

“Everywhere, and not really,” you ground out, trying to breath normally.

“Area clear,” FRIDAY called over comms to everyone.

“How’s Y/N looking?” Tony asked, now that the enemies were finished.

“We need to get them back to base,” Clint stated, not taking his eyes off of you.

Natasha appeared behind Clint, a worried furrow on her brow. “We have pain meds in the jet until we can back. Can you walk?”

“Considering I can’t sit up? Gonna say no,” you responded, your gaze flickering between them both.

“Okay,” Clint muttered, leaning down. “I’ll carry you.”

Nat picked up his bow, telling the others, “On our way back to the jet. Let medical know Y/N is coming in.”

“I’m sure it’s-” You winced in pain as Clint picked you up, the movement sending a sharp pain through your body. “Nothing!”

“Definitely not nothing,” he responded softly, holding you close. “You’ll be okay, though.”

You let out a slow breath, trying to focus on your breaths, Clint’s breaths even, rather than the awful pain.

The three of you got to the jet faster than you thought it would take, but you knew the pain was probably distorting time.

You sucked in a breath as Clint laid you down on one of the few flat surfaced, clenching your jaw. You could hear Steve calling someone, and Natasha talking to Tony as well, but the pain was blurring any sense of the words they were actually saying.

You could feel someone’s hand on your face, stroking your cheek gently. You focused on their touch as the pain of being moved faded, letting you blink and look up at Clint, who was kneeling beside you. “Hey,” you muttered.

His eyes met yours, and he smiled, though you could tell it was forced, barely covering the worry clear on his face. “Hey there,” he murmured back. “We’re on the way back now. You’ll be okay.”

“Of course I will be,” you sighed, letting your eyes close slowly. “You’re gonna make sure I am.”

“Damn right I am,” he stated softly.

You could feel a pressure on your temple, your conscious whispering how someone had just kissed your temple. More importantly, Clint had kissed your temple.

You were unconscious before you could fully grasp what had happened.

Two: the first time you did remember.

“So you’re really alright?”

You laughed softly from the bed in medical, trying to ignore the beeping of the monitor to your right. “Yes, Nat. FRIDAY was right, just a few broken ribs along with heavy bruising.”

“Okay good,” she smiled. “Wouldn’t want you down for too long.”

“Oh, I’ll be down for a while,” you stated, shaking your head. “Doctor wants me to rest fully, not pull my back on top of this.”

“Good, you better rest,” she replied, leaning over and squeezing your hand. “Someone has been missing you, and worried crazy.”

You git your lip, feeling your stomach twist at the mention of him. “Really?”

“I swear,” Nat stated, before glancing at the time. “Actually…”

There was a knock on the door, making your eyes snap to it.

“There he is,” Natasha continued, standing from her chair and letting your hand go. “Come in!”

The door swung open, and you met the familiar eyes of Clint, who smiled softly. “Hey,” he muttered.

“Hi,” you replied, twisting your hands into the sheets.

“Sorry to leave, I have a meeting with Steve,” Nat commented, moving towards the door. “You two have fun.”

She closed the door before either of you two could reply, only making you more nervous. Why were you feeling this way only now, after knowing him for so long?

“Sorry I haven’t visited,” Clint stated, moving to the chair and sitting slowly. “There was a...weird mission.”

“Tony told me,” you laughed. “He said they sent you because no one else wanted to deal with it?”

Clint rolled his eyes, his smile growing. “Basically. I’m the last resort, it’s ridiculous!”

You giggled softly, shaking your head. “Well, at least you’re back now.”

“That I am,” he muttered, his eyes flickering over you. “How are you feeling?”

Sore, but better,” you stated. “I’ll be okay.”

“Thank god,” sighed in relief, leaning over and kissing your temple. “You scared me.”

You paused at the action, but looked at him as he sat comfortably, his hand gently taking yours. Now that you were awake, conscious entirely of the action, you...weren’t nervous like you had been. It didn’t feel unnatural, it felt the opposite.

It felt right.

Smiling softly, you took his hand, squeezing it as his fingers intertwined with yours. “So, have all of you made some sort of promise that I’m not to be left alone?”

“Listen, it was Nat’s idea. She said-”

You raised your eyebrows. “So it was your idea, then.”

“Okay, well-” You laughed, watching Clint’s smile grow. He squeezed your fingers, muttering. “No need to call me out like that.”

Three: when things between you started to change.

You brought the spoon full of cereal to your lips, staring at the screen in front of you as you scrolled through news articles.

“Remind me why I haven’t sued Fox News yet?” Tony asked from the kitchen.

“Because it would start a lawsuit battle that would never end, sir,” FRIDAY replied.

He groaned, leaning against the counter and facing you. “How bad is it?”

“The people who hate you actually...hate the article?” you replied, glancing at him with confusion.

He threw up his hands, moving around the counter. “What the hell?!”

You laughed softly, closing the article as Clint moved into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. “Morning,” he muttered.

“Morning,” you replied, glancing at him.

Clint smiled almost immediately, walking towards you. “How are you feeling?”

“Great,” you stated, smiling back. “Slept like a baby, back is fine.”

“Good,” he sighed, resting a hand on the back of your chair. He leaned down and kissed your temple, making your face flush at the action around others. “We still on for our date tonight?”

“Movie and pizza,” you grinned.

He smiled back, before moving to the kitchen past Tony, who was staring at you with raised eyebrows. Your face warmed further, and you focused back on your breakfast, ignoring him.

Four: when the kisses became natural.

It was team movie night, Tony complaints about the home theater not getting enough use from anyone finally getting too much for you all to hear. So a night was picked, a movie was voted on, and plenty of snacks were bought.

There were a two loveseats in the room, but mostly single chairs, overall more than enough spots for everyone to sit. Tony and Pepper claimed one loveseat, while the rest of the team left the other open completely for you and Clint.

You were relieved that everyone supported you both in the relationship you two had stumbled into. Natasha was your biggest supporter, to no one’s surprise.

As you settled into the seat, Clint arrived with an armful of snacks, making you giggle and shake your head, taking your drink and the large bowl of popcorn so he could sit.

“What? I get hungry,” he muttered, relaxing into the space beside you.

You threw the blanket you had grabbed over his lap, cuddling into his side as his arm slid over your shoulders naturally. “I know,” you replied, your smile wide. “How you were balancing it all just looked ridiculous.”

“Well excuse me for wanting to make sure we get all the snacks we want,” he teased. “Cause I’m not getting up during the movie.”

You giggled softly, burying your head in his shoulder. “You better not.”

Clint had quickly become your biggest comfort, and you his. After missions or on bad days, you two usually ended up curled into each other in either his room or your own, just taking comfort in the warmth and presence of the other.

He chuckled, the vibrations going through his shoulder, and you felt him kiss your temple. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m not moving.”

Your smile grew, and you lifted your head to kiss his cheek as Tony yelled, “Okay! Settle down, the movie’s starting!”

One: when you were scared to loose him.

You swung at the soldier to your right, shifting focus immediately as he fell to the ground. As you kicked the soldier to your left, you could see Clint in your peripheral vision. You watched, almost in slow motion, as one of the soldiers around you both grabbed one of the fallen guns, turning to the man you loved.

“No!” you screamed as the shot was fired, watching Clint recoil, his free hand moving to his shoulder.

The world seemed to move slowly as he fell to the concrete, and you rammed into the soldier that had shot him. With a swift upper cut, the offender was out cold, leaving you to turn to Clint, blood staining the front of his shirt.

“Clint is down!” you cried into the comms, skidding to his side. “I repeat, Clint is shot and down!”

Dropping your hand from your ear, you cupped his cheek, feeling your own hands shake. “Stay with me, baby,” you muttered, your eyes darting over his face, looking for any sing of life. “Clint, please, please…”

He groaned under you, his eyes fluttering open and meeting your own. “That fucking hurt.”

“On my way!” Steve yelled through the comms.

You laughed in relief, ignoring the tears streaming down your face. “I need to check if it’s a through-and-through, okay? Hold still.”

He nodded, and you slid your hand along his back, trying to feel for blood. He winced as you felt liquid, your fingers then hovering over the exit would. He cursed loudly, but you couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

“Okay, that’s good, baby,” you muttered.

He groaned in response, just as Steve jumped down the staircase, running towards you both. “How bad?” he asked you.

“Through-and-through in the shoulder,” you informed him, keeping your gaze on Clint. “He’s already bleeding heavily, though, he’ll need medical attention right away.”

You barely saw Steve turn away, saying over the comms, “Get to the Quin Jet, everyone! We gotta get medical help.”

You ignored any responses, stroking Clint’s cheek. “It’ll be okay,” you whispered. “You’ll be alright.”

It felt like a blur, getting Clint into the jet and back to base, all you could think about was how he needed to be okay.

He had to be.

Natasha rubbed your back as you stared at the door to the surgery wing, neither of you willing to move until the doctor came out and said Clint was alright.

Eventually, the doors opened, the doctor taking off his mask as he approached you both. You stood immediately, asking, “Is he alright?”

“He will be. The bullet didn’t hit any major muscles or veins, Barton was lucky. He’ll just need rest, and physical therapy afterwards.”

You sighed in relief as Nat asked, “Is he awake?”

“Not yet, but you both can go see him. He’s in room 2.”

He walked away, and your friend turned to you, smiling softly. “Go sit with him, I’ll go tell the team and come back with food.”

You nodded numbly and darted to Room 2. Stepping inside slowly, you nearly cried at the sight of Clint asleep in the bed, his shoulder bandaged.

Padding to his side that wasn’t injured, you pulled the chair up, taking his hand and cupping his cheek. “Scared me there,” you whispered, gently kissing his temple.

Under you, Clint took a slow breath before saying hoarsely, “Isn’t that my move?”

You laughed, letting a tear escape your hold as you met his eyes, smiling. “So sue me for stealing your habit. We spend enough time together, it was bound to happen.”

He smiled softly, squeezing your hand. “Fine, fair enough. Now come here and give me a real kiss.”

You giggled and leaned down, doing just that, relieved beyond words that he was okay.

Feedback fuels me!

Y/N Marlowe caught the eye and ear of nearly everyone in the room, no one able to not speak or look at her until she left with Baron and Baroness Marlowe just before the ball ended. Most would ask why a widow caught the attention of the ton, and others may assume it is because she is that, a widow.

This author would suggest otherwise. After the ball yesterday, it is clear that Y/N Marlowe is intelligent, skilled in many ways, and clearly, a woman different from what the ton is used to. It also seems I am not the only one to notice this; three certain gentleman all sharing the same last name seem to have been drawn in by her as well.

I wish the Bridgerton brothers luck this season, and luck with Lady Y/N Marlowe. They will need it, especially since it looks as if they will be competing with each other.

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers,

8 November 1814

“Did you sleep well, my lady?” your maid asked, glancing at you in the mirror.

You took a slow breath. “...no, Mary,” you muttered. “I tossed and turned. The ball last night gave me almost too much to ponder.”

“I thought that might be the case,” she replied. “So, the cook is preparing extra fruit along with breakfast, and I will make sure to prepare your favorite tea. We’ll do your hair mostly down, so it doesn’t tug too much today...”

You smiled. “Thank you, Mary. I appreciate it.”

Mary had been your maid since long before your debut into society, and after so long together she knew you almost too well. She knew how you liked your food, your tea, what your daily schedule was exactly, how you preferred to dress, and knew the exact signs if something was even slightly off. Especially the past five years, you had grown to appreciate and depend on her so much.

“Which dress would you prefer for today?” she asked.

You hummed, glancing at your closet. Your mind wandered to the three Bridgerton brothers, and the small possibility of them calling on you today, it was the day after the ball after all. “...let’s do the blue I like, Mary.”

She grinned. “So you’re tired but hoping some gentleman will arrive, my lady?”

You blushed, glaring playfully at her in the mirror. “Oh hush!” You both laughed for a moment, before you added softly. “Hopeful is a good term for it…”

“Well, while I finish your hair for the morning, would you like to read the latest copy of Lady Whistledown?” Mary asked. “She...she mentioned you, my lady.”

“She did?” you asked, glancing at her. “...yes, I’d like to read it.”

Eloise glanced up at her mother, furrowing her eyebrows. “...why is the house so quiet?”

Violet looked up from her embroidery, “What, dearest?”

Eloise closed her book. “The house is too quiet. I haven’t seen Anthony, Benedict or Colin since breakfast.”

Violet fought back a smile, shrugging as she looked back down at her needlework. “They just said they would be out.”

Eloise glared at her mother, knowing the Bridgerton matriarch knew something she wasn’t stating. “Does this have to do with the ball last night?”

Violet did not look up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Weren’t you reading?”

That meant Eloise was onto something. She was not blind, she had seen how her brothers had looked at Lady Y/N Marlowe. Slouching in her seat, the young woman opened her book, not focusing on the words but thinking over the ball. If her brothers had all left and her mother was acting like this…

Maybe things were more serious with this Lady Marlowe than Eloise had thought. Perhaps Lady Whistledown was right…

And her brothers would need luck.

Elizabeth smiled, sitting across from you in the drawing room. “So, now that you’ve had the night and morning to settle...tell me about the dances.”

You laughed softly, glancing up from your embroidery. “What do you want to know, sister?”

“Tell me of the Bridgerton gentlemen!” she cried, her grin growing. “You danced with all three of them, Y/N. Are they different? The same? Too similar?”

You paused your needle, thinking back to the three dances. Each brother had been so different, their memories clashing each other in your mind, and yet...you could see how they would work together as siblings.

“They are all very different from each other,” you stated softly, looking back down at the fabric. “It was refreshing, actually.”

“Different how?” she asked, her excitement faded, now replaced with curiosity.

You took a slow breath, continuing to work with your needle and thread as you thought back to the dances. “Colin Bridgerton was...softer,” you started. “He asked and focused more on me right from the start of our dance.” Colin’s eyes had been the lightest blue of the three, you realized, looking back, almost lighter than the sky on a perfect summer day. His smile was lighter and fuller as well, and you wondered if he was just full of more joy as a person, or because he was younger than his brothers.

You continued on, focusing on your nest dance. “Benedict had the most energy of the three,” you laughed softly. “He spoke his thoughts, and there was clear passion in his words.” Benedict Bridgerton’s blue eyes were a middle of the road blue, not too light or too dark, almost like bluebells. His smile had been wide and true almost the entire night, and felt as if it was pulling you in with his half grin.

“And what of the Viscount?” your sister-in-law asked.

You sighed softly. “He was…” You glanced up at Elizabeth. “Oldest sons carry the burden of the family.”

She nodded, her smile gone by now. “They do. He was all business then?”

“He’s looking for a Viscountess,” you stated. “And no one in the ton would expect a less than perfect lady for him.”

“So that was how the dance was,” she commented. “But what did you think of him?”

You paused your needlework again, glancing at your hands. That was a harder question, by far. Viscount Anthony Bridgerton’s blue eyes were the darkest of the three brothers, like the dark blue after sunset, and they hid a flame of...you weren’t sure it was fury or passion. And the smile you had seen from him had only been in glances, when you had fought back against him.

All you could think was…

“I can’t help but think that I didn’t meet the true man last night,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“No?” Elizabeth asked.

“No,” you stated, meeting her eyes. “I met the Viscount, not Anthony Bridgerton. And if I am to marry, I would marry the man not the title.”

Your sister smiled. “Well, let’s hope you meet the man, then.”

“We shall see if he is even interested in me,” you responded, turning back to your fabric. “If any of them are.”

“Do not put yourself down, Y/N. You are worthy, and if they do not realize it, one man will.”

You smiled, glancing at her. “Thank you, Elizabeth. I hope so.”

The door to the drawing room opened then, and you both glanced up as Luke strode in, a smile on his face. “I hope I am not interrupting,” he said, glancing between you both.

“Not at all, darling,” she said, her smile growing at the sight of him.

He moved towards her, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “What were you two discussing?” he muttered.

“Just last night, and Y/N’s dances,” she replied.

“Ah, yes,” Luke stated, sitting beside his wife, glancing at you. “The Bridgerton brothers.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes. What do you know of them, brother?”

He took a breath, nodding. “Well, they come from a good family. Scandals on occasion, but they’re always proven wrong and the family comes out the other side. No issues with funds or money, nothing...wrong to say about them.” Luke smiled. “If you like them and find love, then I have no issue at all calling them family.”

You nodded, feeling relieved at his words. It was no secret that men knew more of the world and the ton, so Luke would know more of anything to do with anyone courting you. He was a good brother as well, hiding nothing from you or Elizabeth when you both asked.

You were just unsure if any of the brothers would even think on calling you after last night.

At the same time outside of the Marlowe estate, three different blue Bridgerton carriages pulled up. Out of each carriage a separate brother stepped out, each with a bouquet of flowers. They all stopped and looked at their other brother, each Bridgerton having a different reaction.

Anthony glared at his younger brothers before moving to the entrance quickly, wanting to make sure he was first, it not second into the manor.

Benedict pursed his lips, clearly not surprised by the sight of his brothers, before darting to the doors, reaching them first before Anthony.

Colin, compared to his two older siblings, seemed to pause at the sight of Benedict and Anthony, only the sight of them both moving to the doors made him move himself.

You glanced up from your embroidery as the door to the drawing room opened again, Elizabeth and Luke looking up as well as the butler stepped in.

He cleared his throat. “A Mr. Bridgerton, a Viscount Bridgerton, and a Mr. Bridgerton are here to call on Lady Y/N Marlowe.”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at Elizabeth, who gasped with a smile. “Send them in, please.”

“All three?” you whispered to her, setting aside your needlework as you stood.

“I told you,” she giggled, standing with you. “Luke and I will speak with the others while you focus on each separately.” She gestured for Luke to stand, her husband groaning as he set aside his paper.

You took a breath as you faced the door, your eyes flickering between the three Bridgerton brothers. Your breath caught as you saw they each had a different bouquet of flowers in their hands, the ribbon around each bouquet from a different flower shop as well. That told you that not only had they gone to get you flowers, but they had gone to separate shops, either on purpose or on accident, before coming to you.

By the way they were clearly trying not to shove each other out of the way, the brothers hadn’t known they were all coming. You bit back a smile at the thought, curtsying. “Good morning, sirs.”

They all bowed, nodding to Elizabeth and Luke. “Good morning,” Benedict said.

“I hope I-we are not interrupting,” Colin commented.

“Not at all,” Elizabeth responded, moving towards him. “We were simply discussing the ball last night. What did you think of it, Mr. Bridgerton?”

Colin stole a glance at you but let her guide him away to the other side of the room, just as Luke stepped forward. “Viscount, I’m glad you stopped by. Do you mind if I pull you aside for a moment before you speak to my sister?” he asked Anthony.

Anthony sighed but nodded. “Of course, Baron.”

Your gaze turned to Benedict, who’s grin was now wide at the fact that he was the first to speak to you. “Hello,” you muttered, sitting back in your spot.

“Good morning,” he replied, moving to your side and sitting beside you, not too close. He held out the flowers. “For you, my lady.”

You took them, smelling the array of flowers; you could see it was not something a florist had put together and he had simply chosen, Benedict had clearly picked specific flowers based on your dress last night and asked the florist to arrange them. It warmed your heart- he had not only put thought into the flowers, but remembered so very clearly what your dress had looked like.

He was very good with details then.

“Thank you,” you whispered, glancing at him. “I appreciate the thought, my lord.”

His half grin grew, the same one you remembered so well. “You are most welcome. Now, before I forget…” He reached into his jacket, pulling out a piece of parchment and handing it to you. “I had to write down when I am visiting the gallery with my family. I wanted to tell you before I forgot, so you can join us.”

“Oh, thank you,” you grinned, taking it. “I am so excited.”

“As I am, they are rising new pieces in a few days, so we will see them fresh,” he said, talking quicker than before. “They are from new artists apparently, not as well know, but good pieces.”

“Well, we will be the judges of that then,” you stated, laughing softly. Benedict’s smile grew, before you titled your head. “And you said your whole family is joining us?”

“Yes.” Benedict nodded. “My mother, of course, who is...excited to speak with you more. Daphne will be with her husband, but the rest of my siblings will be joining us.”

“And tell me about them, so I’m not entirely confused. If I remember hearing correctly, there are ten of you,” you teased.

Benedict laughed. “There are not, I can assure you, Lady Y/N. After us three, there’s Daphne and Eloise, who you met briefly. Then there is only Francesca, Gregory and Hyacinth.”

You could see his smile soften at the mention of his siblings, which only made you more excited for the gallery visit. Maybe you would get some time with Benedict with less of the eyes of the ton on you both.

After just a bit more conversation, you thanked Benedict for calling on you, the man smiling and bowing to you.

Anthony Bridgerton immediately noticed and moved towards you, bowing as he approached with his bouquet. “Lady Marlowe, you look stunning this morning.”

“Thank you, Viscount,” you replied, smiling as he held out the flowers. You took them, keeping your eyes on him as he sat beside you, at a more respectable distance than his brother had. “I must admit, I am...surprised you came.”

“You seem to me surprised by me often, my lady,” he muttered, his eyes flickering over your face. “Why would a gentleman not call on a lady such as yourself?”

You tilted your head, curious at the man before you. He seemed different, yet...still similar to last night. Was he trying to prove something to you? To himself? You couldn’t tell.

“Thank you for the compliment,” you stated, brushing your fingers on the ribbon of the flowers on your lap. Glancing at them, you realized briefly that they were Daffodils, Morning Glories, and Apple Blossoms.

The meaning of flowers were no secret to ladies nor florists, and if Anthony Bridgerton was smart he had asked for assistance: Daffodils meant “I regard you”, Morning Glories meant “affection”, and Apple Blossoms meant “preference”. Simply, with this bouquet, the Viscount was stating that he was seeing you, was choosing you, and preferred you over even the Diamond of the Season.

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton was bold, and...not what you expected. The cold man you had spoken with last night was not the man you were sitting with now, and you felt more confused than before.

You glanced back up at him, muttering, “And thank you for the flowers, my lord.”

He nodded, the corner of his lips turning up in a smile. “You are welcome. Do you have any plans in two days, Lady Marlowe?”

“No, I do not as of yet. Why, sir?”

“I wanted to ask if you would like to Promenade with me.”

You took a breath, surprised at the question. Recovering quickly, you said, “I would be honored.”

Anthony nodded. “Wonderful.”

Not to your surprise, the Viscount left soon after, apologizing for not staying longer but commenting that he was looking forward to seeing you in a few days. Elizabeth glanced at you curiously, but you slightly shook your head, instead focusing on Colin.

Colin approached you, letting out a breath as he held out his flowers. “Hello, Lady Y/N.”

You laughed softly, taking the flowers. “Hello, Lord Colin. Thank you for your patience.”

“I have been patient with my brothers for most of my life,” he commented, sitting beside you. “You look beautiful today, by the way.”

You blushed at his choice of words. “Thank you, sir. And thank you for the flowers as well.”

“You deserve them,” he stated, as if he was stating a simply fact like the color of the sky. “How are you feeling today? I know the first ball of the season can be...a lot, especially since you were away for so long.”

You smiled at the clear worry in his tone and on his face, hoping to ease his fears. “I am feeling well, I promise. Especially after such wonderful conversation and dances, it was a wonderful time. I can only hope the rest of the season lives up to the expectations last night set.”

Colin chuckled, his smile growing. “Well hopefully I can help meet those expectations.”

“I believe you will,” you whispered.

“Ah, I almost forgot,” he muttered, reaching into his jacket. He pulled out a notebook, holding it out to you.

You gasped, your smile growing as you took it. “Your notes from Greece?”

He nodded, and you swore his cheeks tinted slightly. “Yes. Hopefully you can read my scrawl, my mother claims it’s horrendous.”

“I’m sure it’s perfectly legible,” you defended, fighting the instinct to open the book now, instead holding it on your lap. “Thank you for bringing it, I cannot wait to read about your journey.”

His baby blue eyes flickered over your features, his smile softening. “I’m honored to hear you’re so excited, Lady Y/N. You will have to let me know what you think of it all.”

“Of course I will, I would not dream otherwise,” you responded, laughing. “And I have not forgotten what you promised, if I have questions I will be coming to you for answers.”

“I should hope so, as they are my notes,” he chuckled, making you laugh again, covering your mouth.

Elizabeth leaned towards her husband, smiling. “This is all so interesting,” she whispered.

“Watching her with all three of them?” Luke responded, just as softly. “It is...I expected her to be different with each, but she is the same with all.”

“I would not expect anything else from her,” Elizabeth muttered. “She wants a husband who will love her for who she is, and she understand that she mustn’t hide for that to happen.”

“Do you think one of them will love her?” Luke asked, glancing down at his wife.

She watched as Colin stood, saying goodbye like his brothers had, Y/N’s gaze turning to all three bouquets of flowers. “I think the question will be who she will fall in love with, darling.”

Feedback fuels me!

Every month, I will be writing an sharing a story based on a prompt list focusing on different types of kisses. Each character will also be on their own fandom masterlist, as well as here.

If I love the prompt list and decide to continue to write more, there will be here as well, just separated from the 2024 list. :)

2024- Year of Types of Kisses

(all pairings and ideas are subject to change)

January- Kisses on the Temple

Pairing: Clint Barton x GN! Reader Type of Kiss: a kiss on the temple Summary: Four times Clint kissed your temple, and one time you kissed his. Read here!

February- Meant It

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female! Reader Type of Kiss: a kiss to make the other believe professed feelings Summary: Bucky has been pining over Reader, trying to hint at it, but she’s not getting it. Only a kiss can make her believe fully. Read here!

March-

Pairing: ?? x Reader Type of Kiss: a kiss against tear stained cheek Summary: *to be announced* Read here!

April-

Pairing: ?? x Reader Type of Kiss: a playful, happy kiss in the rain Summary: *to be announced* Read here!

May-

Pairing: ?? x Reader Type of Kiss: a kiss against shoulder as arms wrap around from behind Summary: *to be announced* Read here!

June-

Pairing: ?? x Reader Type of Kiss: a gentle kiss to ask forgiveness Summary: *to be announced* Read here!

July-

Pairing: ?? x Reader Type of Kiss: a desperate kiss as if they are convinced they’ll slip through each other’s fingers Summary: *to be announced* Read here!

August-

Pairing: ?? x Reader Type of Kiss: a possessive kiss to show the world they belong to each other Summary: *to be announced* Read here!

September-

Pairing: ?? x Reader Type of Kiss: a kiss on the forehead of one who is starting to fall asleep Summary: *to be announced* Read here!

October-

Pairing: ?? x Reader Type of Kiss: a kiss after treating a wound Summary: *to be announced* Read here!

November-

Pairing: ?? x Reader Type of Kiss: a kiss between furrowed brows to try and comfort Summary: *to be announced* Read here!

December-

I am taking a small step back in terms of posting and such, as of right now. I use to post every Saturday, but I want to focus more on other projects and possible publishing, so starting in January I will be slowing the "every Saturday" to...probably every other Saturday. I'm not sure yet, and honestly I'm just going to focus on posting for fun not likes or reads.

If you want to stay updated, sign up for notifications! As I only post story related things and comment reblogs, you won't be bombarded with notifications.

Now for the fun update! I enjoyed my 2023 Soulmate AU series, where I posted one story a month that was a Soulmate AU. Sooooooo-I've decided to do something similar for this year!

Once a month I'll be posting a fun new 2024 challenge, so keep an eye out for it!!

You had been enjoying the New Year’s Party, of course, but there was nothing wrong with a small breather in the night air. You could still hear the party through the glass balcony doors, smiling at the cheers of your friends.

You stared over the view, the lights of the city and parties to celebrate the incoming New Year. It felt surreal sometimes, that this was your life, that you were doing everything you were, that another year had come and gone.

Hearing the slide of the balcony door, then a click, you turned around. “Thought you might be out here,” Anthony muttered, smirking at you.

You shrugged, smiling softly. “I needed a minute.”

He just nodded, padding over to you. He slowly took your hands in his own, his brows furrowing. “You’ve been out here too long.”

“And how do you know that?” you laughed softly, letting his tug you closer.

“Your hands are cold,” he stated, rubbing your hands for warmth.

You breath hitched, and you glanced at his face, seeing his gaze focused solely on your hands. “Suppose I should go inside and warm up then.”

That made Anthony glance up at you, pausing his motions. “…maybe,” he agreed. “Mind if I join you?”

Your smile grew. “Wouldn’t mind at all,” you whispered.

Feedback fuels me!

“Gather the courage?” you repeated, raising your eyebrows, your hand brushing his as the dance fully started, your feet moving with the song. 

Colin’s eyes stayed locked with yours, his smile soft and his bright blue eyes sparkling. “To ask the most beautiful woman in the room to dance with me. There’s always the possibility that you’d say no, after all, Lady Marlowe.”

You felt your cheeks warm slightly. “It was only a small possibility, Lord Bridgerton. Very very small, I assure you.” You bit your lip, before adding, “And please, Lady Marlowe is my sister. Call me Y/N.”

His smile grew, and you stepped away momentarily for the dance, before moving back to him. “Then I must insist you call me Colin. None of this...Bridgerton business, there are too many of us anyhow.”

You laughed, but nodded. “I think that can be arranged...Lord Colin.”

His grin grew. “Wonderful, Lady Y/N. So, what do you do in your spare time, between assisting Baroness Marlowe with the estate?” Colin asked. 

You hummed softly, moving beside him in time with the song. “Are you asking for my skill set, my lord? Or are you asking what I enjoy doing?”

“I can see the error in my question now,” he nodded, stepping around you in time perfectly. “While I don’t doubt you have many skills, enough to rival any lady here, I would like to hear what you prefer doing and enjoy doing.”

You giggled softly, your smile growing as you glanced at him. “Very well. Out of all the skills ladies are taught, I mostly prefer reading and embroidering.”

“My mother embroiders often,” Colin stated, nodding, glancing at you. “I like to read as well, though. What do you read?”

“Anything I can, even if the ton may prefer us ladies to read specific...ideas,” you admitted. “Widening my mind in any way possible is enjoyable.”

“I know that feeling, reading is a beautiful way to grow your mind. I read often before my travels to know as much as I could and it helped me more than I can say.” He smiled, his hand brushing your gloved one again, gaze still locked with yours. “I’m curious, so I must ask, do you have a favorite novel or story?”

“Oh, I don’t dare to pick just one.” You shook your head. “There are too many brilliant stories and wonderful tales to choose only one!”

He laughed, his smile growing. “Alright, then tell me one you enjoy, so I may know more about you.”

You hummed, taking the part of the dance away from him to think. As you spun back to him, you answered, “The tale of Rapunzel.”

Colin furrowed his brow. “I have not heard that tale.”

“Well I will not ruin it for you, it is one of the tales from the brother’s Grimm,” you stated. “Now tell me, Lord Colin, what do you enjoy doing with your spare time as the third brother? You mentioned traveling?”

He chuckled, nodding, and you swore his cheeks were pink. “I did. I just got back from Greece before the season started.”

“Oh Greece, I’ve heard it’s beautiful.”

“It was, but not was beautiful as the lady in my arms right now.”

“Oh, sir,” you muttered, blushing. “You flatter me.”

He smiled. “I only state the truth.”

“Do you travel as often as you compliment ladies?”

Colin laughed, but did not deny anything. “Not often no. It was a chance to explore away from my large family. I’d like to travel, but...if something kept me here I would be more than content to stay.”

You smiled softly. “I’m sure your future wife would be more than happy to hear that.”

His smile grew, something sparkling in his eyes. It felt as if he was planning something, three steps ahead of you, and you wondered if he was always like this. “Perhaps she will want to travel with me before we settle down.”

“You never know,” you muttered. “She might. But I continue to be curious of your travels, tell me more. Lord Colin.”

He spun you then, for the dance, commenting, “I wrote about my travels, actually. If you are not in the midst of a novel perhaps you could read my notes, Lady Y/N.”

“I would love to read your travel notes,” you stated, gasping softly. “Who should I go to if I have questions of the material, though?”

“Well, I will be more than happy to answer any questions you may have, my lady,” he stated, as the song came to a close. 

You smiled, curtsying. “Thank you, my lord.” Stealing a glance at his face. “For the dance and the new reading material.” 

Colin chuckled, bowing to you. “I should be thanking you.” He took your hand, leading you off the dance floor. “Especially for the dance.” He lifted your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the back, before glancing at his older brother,  then back to you. “Have a wonderful night, Lady Y/N.”

“You as well, Lord Colin,” you muttered. 

Allowing yourself a breath, you ignored the stares of the women in the group a step away, instead turning to Benedict Bridgerton. He smiled softly at you, taking a step to you and holding out his hand. “May I have this dance, my lady?” he asked. 

You set your hand in his. “You may, my lord.”

He lead you to the dance floor, his smile and the spark in his eyes different than his brother’s. You had to admit, you were already intrigued. 

He bowed and you curtsied, and the music began, both of you dancing in time with the tune. “You look beautiful tonight, Lady Marlowe,” he stated. “Your dress compliments your eyes, it brightens them in a way that makes me unable to look way.”

You blushed, smiling at him. “Thank you, sir, I appreciate the compliment. Though...if a lady were to know any better, I would say you either practiced compliments such as those or were a poet.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as his shoulder brushed your own. “Neither would be true. Practicing compliments would be unfair and untrue in the moment. And...my poetry is atrocious.”

You laughed, biting your lip to stop from laughing louder. “I can assure you it is better than anything Bryon writes.”

Benedict laughed, shaking his head. “Lady Marlowe! Bold of you to say.”

“I only speak my mind, Lord Bridgerton,” you responded, smirking at him. “And if I may continue to do so, then I will say that Lady Marlowe is my sister, and you as well as I both know that I am looking to drop that name as quickly as I possibly may.”

His smirk grew as he stepped away, before stepping back a beat later. “What are you proposing, my lady?”

“Simply that you may call me Y/N,” you stated, meeting his gaze, unflinching. “The ton be damned.”

His hand brushed yours as he spun you, and as you faced him he said softly, “Then I insist you call me Benedict.”

You smiled softly. “Very well...Lord Benedict.”

He smiled back, the sharp wit you had seen a moment ago fading to show you a softer side. You wondered briefly if this was the true him, or if both side encompassed the man. 

“So tell me, how does Benedict Bridgerton spew compliments to the ladies so eloquently?” you asked. 

He chuckled, his cheeks tinging slight. “I...simply state what I see,” he explained, the dance continuing. “I am an artist, and view the world as such.”

“Ah, say no more,” you muttered. “Artists are a different breed in our world, and they are not appreciated as such.”

Benedict paused and almost stumbled but caught up in the steps, pulling you closer than necessary in the dance. “I...I am surprised to hear you say as such, Lady Y/N.”

You lowered your voice turning the next steps, muttering, “Just because my late husband loathed art does mean I share what his views were.”

He smiled, squeezing your hand before letting go to follow the dance steps. “So you do appreciate art?” he asked, clearly curious. 

“I do, but I have not had the chance to view good art in some time,” you admitted, your smile turning sad. “The past year has been...hectic.”

You could seen something flicker in his eyes, and Benedict’s head tilted, his lips turning into a half smile. “Well, I would not be a good artist if I did not offer to remedy that quickly,” he said. “My family and I are going to a gallery this week. Would you like to join me?”

You smiled softly, nodding. “I would enjoy that.”

His grin grew. “Wonderful. I cannot wait to show you the pieces.”

“I cannot wait for you to tell me about them all,” you teased, grinning at him. 

A cruse slipped under his breath as the dance had you step in closer to him. “I had not thought about that.”

“Apparently not,” you laughed. “Now, tell me about your art.”

“No, no, no,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Tell me about yourself, I insist. I know nothing about you.”

“You know I enjoy art!”

“And you know I enjoy art as well as am artist myself. That is more than I know of you,” he rebutted, smirking. “So tell me, if you had to distance yourself from art because of your late husband, what did you push yourself into, Lady Y/N?”

“Alright, I know when I have been beaten,” you muttered, still smiling. “I suppose I pushed myself into reading, if not being a baroness. One does what they must to survive, and now I am ready to enjoy living, enjoy art and beauty.”

He nodded, smiling sadly. “I know the feeling.” You both separated for the dance, but as you came back together, Benedict added, “I hope you can find beauty and joy in life quickly.”

“I already am,” you whispered, feeling your cheeks warm.

His smile grew, making the warmth in your cheeks only grow. 

Lady Danbury, Violet Bridgerton, Daphne and Simon all watched the dance floor, muttering between themselves. 

“Colin and Benedict dancing with her,” Danbury murmured, watching Y/N. “Those two I had not expected.”

“Neither had I, but...the dance with Colin went well, and the dance with Benedict looks like it is going well,” Violet stated, swirling her drink. 

“If anyone else in the room would want a love match, it would be them, though,” Daphne said, glancing at the two ladies. “Unless you know of anyone else, Lady Danbury?”

The elder woman grinned, glancing at her. “Why do you think I introduced her to you all?”

The three chuckled, not noticing Simon watching the dance floor. Yes, Benedict and Y/N were on it, but what the ladies failed to notice was that Anthony also was. He was dancing with another woman, the diamond of the season Lady Lucy Andrews, the daughter of Earl Andrews. But Simon knew his friend, and could see Anthony’s gaze lingering on Y/N rather than his dance partner. 

Simon sipped his drink, glancing back at Benedict dancing with Y/N. This would all be interesting. 

As Benedict lead you off the floor, kissing your gloved hand like Colin, you felt content with the night. There was only one more dance of the ball, if anyone asked you at all, but as of right now it looked like you would be able to mingle on the sides of the ballroom, which you were content with. 

You moved to step towards Lady Danbury, who was beside Violet Bridgerton, when someone moved in your path. 

Your gaze slid to them, and you held back your visible shock as Viscount Anthony Bridgerton met your gaze, his hand out. “May I have this dance, Lady Marlowe?”

You paused for a moment, before nodding, with a polite smile. “You may, Viscount Bridgerton.” Setting your hand in his, you felt the group’s eyes of confusion on you both, as well as many other staring. Choosing to ignore their eyes, you let him guide you onto the dance floor, facing him. 

You curtsied as he bowed, keeping your eyes locked with his. “I have to admit, I’m surprised,” you muttered. 

“Are you?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “Why, Lady Marlowe?”

“You were dancing with the Diamond of the season a moment ago,” you stated. “Lady Andrews is a wonderful young lady, sweet and kind.”

You swore he held back a flinch, but nodded. “She is, yes. But...a man looking to marry must not focus on just one woman,” he stated. “Just like when a Lady is looking to marry she focuses on her many suitors.”

“Of course,” you nodded, looking at the man dancing with you curiously. He was stiff, cold, a stark contrast to his brothers. “Well, I am honored to be your last dance of the night, my lord.”

“And I am grateful to be yours, my lady,” he said, nodding politely as you both danced. “How were your other dances of the evening?”

“With your brothers?” you asked. “They were wonderful, I enjoyed myself immensely.”

“Good, I am...glad to hear as such,” he responded, glancing away briefly before back to you. “I would hate for them to be lacking in dancing skills or conversation topics.”

“Both of them were not lacking in either,” you assured. “And so far, you are not lacking in dancing skills. I am curious to see how the conversation continues, though.”

He chuckled. “Well then let us change the topic. What instruments do you play, Lady Marlowe?”

Ah. Viscount Bridgerton was being specific when looking for a wife then. 

Your smile turned polite as you glanced at him. “I’ve been proficient with the pianoforte and the violin since I was girl. I still practice and play often.”

He nodded, the corner of his lips turning up. “Most ladies turn to the harp before any other instrument.”

“My mother loved the violin,” you stated simply, shrugging. “I wanted to see her smile.”

“Fair enough. Do you sing at all, or only play?”

“I sing on occasion, but I do not claim to be an aria,” you answered, wondering how long the line of questioning would continue. 

“What languages do you speak?”

“Latin, French, and Italian most recently.” He spun you for the dance, looking surprised. “I believe people must continue to expand their minds, is that a surprise, my lord?”

“I...no, my lady,” he stated. “It is impressive, actually. Most ladies prefer to focus on the ton, gossip, getting husbands more than their minds.”

You held back a laugh, smirking at him. “My lord, I was married for three years and in solitude for another year. I was allowed the freedom of marriage here that most of these young women you have spoken to don’t understand or grasp. My time was spent expanding my horizons in many ways, before and after my marriage. My father ensured I had governesses and tutors at my disposal directly until my debut.”

“Ah, of course,” he muttered, meeting your gaze, something burning in his darker blue eyes. It surprised you how different all three Bridgerton brothers were, especially up close. “Well then, Lady Marlowe, when expanding your horizons you were clearly taught to dance, and well. What other skills do you have?”

You both continued with the dance, laughing internally at the idea of the dance this conversation was in the middle of an actual dance. But it was a dance you knew well, and could step with him perfectly well, both on the floor and verbally. 

“I read often and write as well,” you stated, not breaking eye contact with him. “I also embroider frequently, and draw somewhat often. When I’m not busy doing any of those things, I assist Baroness Marlowe with the estate, and even keep my nephew busy.”

He nodded, his own smirk growing. “An impressive list, my lady…”

“Thank you, my lord,” you cooed. “Are there any other questions you wish to ask me?”

“No, you have answered all my questions at the moment,” he responded, stepping around you. “Especially when one adds the experience you have already running a home, dealing with the ton and society as well…you are clearly a lady to be feared by the other ladies in the room.”

“I do not aim to be feared,” you said immediately, your smile falling. “The ton already makes the season a battle field, finding a husband should not be harder, creating battles and rivalries.”

Anthony smirked. “Many ladies will disagree.”

You shrugged. “Well, they will be disappointed when I refuse to fight back.”

He hummed watching you as you looked away, stepping away for the dance, turning back to him a moment later. “If you asked me so many questions, Viscount Bridgerton, it seems only fair that I ask you questions, yes?” you asked. 

He blinked in shock at your suggestion, but nodded. “I...It would only be fair, of course, Lady Marlowe.”

“You clearly have requirements for your wife, but have you thought that ladies might have their own requirements?” 

The viscount’s back straightened as the dance continued, the fire in his eyes growing. “I would assume ladies do, and hope my future Viscountess had many for me. I’ve run my estate for many years already, and well. I know how to fence and horse ride, assisted in raising and caring for my younger siblings. My education was completed at Oxford.”

You hummed softly, nodding. “That’s all very well, my lord. But are you wanting to marry for love, or simply to have a wife that will give you an heir?”

Anthony Bridgerton kept his gaze locked on you, staying quiet for a moment before he said, “I am looking for a lady poised enough to be my Viscountess and my wife. I do not wish to marry for love.”

“Then you do not meet my requirements,” you stated bluntly, keeping your eyes locked with his. “Because I will only marry for love, Viscount Bridgerton.”

He stayed silent, his eyes darting over your face as the song and dance ended. You curtsied as he bowed, before turning off the floor and walking away from him, ready to seek refreshment and time out of this room. 

You found the lemonade table quickly taking a glass and sipping it, ignoring the stares on your back. Someone was at your side faster than you imagined, and you looked to your left, relieved to see Elizabeth. 

She smiled, taking your arm, as if sensing without words how you were feeling. “Shall we get some air?” she asked.

“Please,” you muttered, letting her steer you out of the ballroom.

Feedback fuels me!

It was something everyone heard, worldwide: their soulmate signing and humming in their head. Some people tried to “break” the system by humming one song as much as possible for their lives, until they met their soulmate. Other people hated the idea of being tied to one person, the idea of fate, so never sang, never hummed.

Matt was...one of the in-between. He hummed on occasion, and hoped someday he would be ready for his soulmate and find them, but...he needed his hearing to live and work, to be Daredevil. It was back and forth for him. His soulmate seemed like they were on the same page as him, or he assumed they were. Whoever they were, they hummed or sang on occasion, almost as if they weren’t worried about finding him right away, just living their life.

It was almost refreshing.

Foggy had asked Matt once what Matt would do, if he found his soulmate. Matt had replied with “I don’t know”, which was still true, over a year later. He had so many other things to worry about, someone he may never even meet wasn’t a priority.

Your friends had called you crazy, on many levels.

First, you were moving in December, less than two weeks before Christmas. Why anyone would do that was beyond them, but you had. Second, you had decided to move to Hell’s Kitchen of all places, which had made some of your friends panic beyond belief. Yes, it had a crime issue, a major one. But didn’t all of New York? At least Hell’s Kitchen had cheaper rent.

When you had told them that you had found over five apartments that were under your budget in Hell’s Kitchen, that were livable, and were larger than a studio, all of your friends had gone silent. With the money you were saving, you had already paid for and finished a self defense class. Plus, you had pointed out, your new apartment was closer to your new job, which was also in Hell’s Kitchen.

They hadn’t liked that either. Maybe your friends just thought all your decisions were bad. Were they bad friends if they did that? Probably. You would have the time and space to figure that out that though, it wasn’t like they would visit you in your new apartment.

Moving in a week and a half before Christmas was a little insane. Yes, you could acknowledge that. It was a weird time of year to move: cold for the movers, busy streets because of so many people taking trips, and just strange because it’s Christmas.

Getting the boxes and furniture into the new apartment was the hard part, but now that it was all in, you could relax, you could focus. There was a full week before you had to start your new job, so you had more than enough time to unpack and decorate for Christmas.

Putting on a record, you smiled softly as Christmas music filtered through the speakers. There was something special about Frank Sinatra singing Christmas songs, his voice just always just put you in the holiday mood.

Moving to the boxes labeled “Christmas”, you let yourself listen to Sinatra sing “White Christmas”.

Matt paused as he heard Christmas music start playing. No one in the complex really played music, and it was later than he had expected anyone to really be awake.

Someone new had moved into the complex a few days ago, and he hadn’t met them yet. He knew with his hearing music being heard was different for him than anyone else, and to everyone else in the complex they probably didn’t hear any music at all, but he could hear the scratch of the needle on the vinyl record.

Part of him smiled softly at the Christmas music, at the sultry tones of Sinatra. Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t the neighborhood for holidays, and Matt had to admit, it was refreshing to have someone like and enjoy Christmas.

He shifted his focus back to the papers around him, letting his fingers brush over the braille. More songs played, and he heard the record finish, whoever it was switching the side, and the music continuing. Two more songs played, and the next song “I'll Be Home For Christmas (If Only In My Dreams)” started, but then something happened than made Matt stop working.

His soulmate started humming.

You smiled as the next song started, sliding another ornament on the tree. There was always a soft spot in your heart for “I'll Be Home For Christmas (If Only In My Dreams)”, especially by Sinatra. The choir in the background made it softer, more gentle and aching for home and wishing for home.

As Sinatra sang, you hummed along, grabbing another ornament. You hoped your soulmate didn’t mind Christmas music; you would be singing and humming it a lot this season.

Matt hadn’t been able to really stop himself.

As soon as he had realized the humming of his soulmate perfectly matched up with the music that the new tenant in the complex was playing, he had moved to the fire escape closest to their apartment, doing his best not to be seen. As far as he could tell, he hadn’t been noticed at all.

Leaning against the brick wall, Matt let himself listen to them move around inside, the music still playing as they hummed along. It was disorienting, physically and mentally, to know that only a window really separated him from who he was meant to be with. How was he supposed to introduce himself? Knock on their window? Go around and knock on their door? Just say “I heard your music and heard you humming, I think you’re my soulmate”?

That seemed ridiculous.

But now that he was thinking it over, how else was he supposed to do it?

A week later, and Matt had what he would almost call a routine. He did what he normally did, lawyer by day, Daredevil by night.

But whenever he heard the humming or singing in his head, if he wasn’t busy, Matt made his way back to the building and just sat outside, listening to them and the music. Given that Christmas was in a week now, it was mostly Christmas music. For the first time in years, Matt actually found himself in the holiday spirit.

Tonight was a slow night. The snow covering the city means it was cold, and no one was out of their homes. He had gotten out of his suit after a few hours of boredom, and now he was just sitting on the roof, listening to them sing softly as they played music.

Unable to himself, Matt hummed softly along with the song he could hear. They were listening to “All I Want for Christmas is You”, one of his favorites after so long, after realizing his soulmate was so close.

You moved around your apartment, cleaning as music played. You had been humming along softly, just mindlessly tidying and unpacking the last few boxes.

Then a different, deeper humming entered your mind.

You froze, realizing it was your soulmate. They were humming, like they rarely did. They were humming the exact song you were listening to. Faltering in your own humming, you couldn’t believe it; they were real? And they were hearing you.

Catching yourself, you continued to hum, checking the hall and the fire escape, wondering where they were, if your soulmate was close.

Matt could hear them moving around, had heard them falter. They were looking for him, he knew that.

Did he want them to see him? Find him? There was so much danger surrounding him, always. But at the same time…

He did want them.

Smiling softly, Matt sang out loud, “I just want you here tonight, holding onto me so tight.”

You had opened one of windows, glancing out the fire escape, when you heard the voice in your head say at the same time as someone on the roof sing, “I just want you here tonight, holding onto me so tight.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you slowly climbed the metal fire escape. Stopping as you got to the roof, you saw a man sitting there, the singing in your head stopping.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hello,” you responded. “Sorry, I just-”

“Heard me singing,” he interrupted. “I know.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, shifting on your feet. “Just like I’m assuming you heard me?”

He nodded, turning his face towards you. “I have been, yeah. I’m Matt.”

You smiled, sitting beside him. “Y/N. Merry Christmas.”

He smiled back. “Merry Christmas.”

-1 year later-

“Matt, where’s the-”

“Under the bed,” he called back from the table.

You smiled and shook your head, glancing at your boyfriend. “You don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

“The keys,” he replied, glancing up from his braille files.

“...shut up,” you muttered, moving to the bedroom.

He chuckled, standing as you moved to the bedroom. “I love you,” he called.

You rolled your eyes, finding the keys and moving back to him. “I love you too.” Kissing him gently, you muttered. “Need anything while I’m out?”

“Just you back soon,” he responded, pulling you in for another kiss. You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“It’s only Christmas shopping,” you stated. “I’ll be fast, just a few more things.”

“I suppose I can be patient then. Hum a song or three while I wait.”

You smiled against his lips, whispering, “Perfect.”

Feedback fuels me!

Colin chuckled beside his brother, making Benedict glare at his younger brother. “You’re next, Colin,” Violet stated.

“Damn,” Colin muttered.

“If she focuses on you three, do you think she’ll ignore me?” Eloise whispered to Anthony, a few feet away.

He glanced down at her, just shaking his head. She groaned in response, leaning on him.

The carriage pulled up, making Violet turn to her children. “Alright! This is the first ball of the season. Behave, children. Anthony, I have ladies to introduce you to. Benedict and Colin, I expect to see you dancing, actually dancing. Eloise- if you disappear, I will take away your books-Yes! I mean it. Now into the carriage!”

All four of the children sighed and did so, knowing it was pointless to argue.

“Tonight is going to be interesting,” Colin murmured.

“I think that is an understatement,” Anthony agreed.

Luke sighed, adjusting his cravat.

“It looks fine, darling,” Elizabeth commented, rolling her eyes with a smile, both of them across from you in the carriage.

“Remind me why we’re going to this ball again?” he asked.

“Because you’re a Baron and it’s the first ball of the season,” you stated.

“And Y/N is looking for a husband,” Elizabeth added.

He groaned. “All three are reasons I’m not sure I like.”

You laughed under your breath. “You won’t have to deal with any suitors of mine unless they decide, for some unknown reason, to go around me, Luke. And if they do, you have my permission to make them feel as bad as you’d like for doing so.”

“Wonderful. I can look forward to one thing this season.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, making you laugh again.

The Danbury estate came into view, and you smiled softly at the sight. Carriages were coming and going, torches lit, people moving inside the estate. As the carriage rolled to a stop near the entrance, you could hear music playing inside already, the excitement building in you at the sound.

The door opened to the carriage, and Luke stepped out, helping his wife then you, offering you each his arm. You took it willingly, letting him guide you inside. You passed the table with dance cards, taking one and having Elizabeth help slip it on your wrist. You all then continued on your way into the ballroom, making sure not to stand in awe at the extravagance.

Lady Danbury’s estate looked entirely different compared to the last time you had seen it; flowers and decorations lining the space. The rooms and halls were full, people dressed to the nines, just the way you remembered the social season being: Everyone flaunting themselves and their wealth, waving fans and showing themselves off, hoping for attention.

You hated it, that it was all that flaunting that became the normal. Because fortune and fame was all the ton focused on, you instead had to try and find love.

But you had to admit, the beauty of balls and society events was amazing.

Even with barely looking around the room, you could feel the stares on you, hear the whispers with your name. As you expected.

You exchanged a look with Elizabeth, no words needed between you both. This had been expected. Now you just had to wait for…

“Baron Marlowe, Lady and Lady Marlowe.”

You all looked over to see Lady Danbury approaching, a smirk on her lips. “Lady Danbury,” you all replied, bowing and curtsying.

“The ballroom is gorgeous, my lady,” Elizabeth stated. “I adore the theme as well, Cupid’s Arrows?

“Well thank you,” she said. “The first ball sets the tone for the rest of the season.”

Her words were specific, you knew. She hadn’t told you nor Elizabeth the theme she had decided on, but it fell too specific to not be a choice.

“It is wonderful to see you,” Luke stated, nodding to her.

She nodded back, before turning her gaze to you.

“Lady Y/N Marlowe,” she said slowly. “It has been too long.”

“It has, my lady,” you replied. “Thank you for the invitation, I cannot express my gratitude enough.”

“Well, when you expressed your interest in possibly finding a love match, I knew you would need invitations to only the best balls,” Lady Danbury stated. Her words were the normal tone for a conversation, but you both knew more than enough people were listening, and word would spread quickly. “I hope this helps you on your journey.”

“I know it will,” you replied, smiling.

She smiled back, holding out her arm. “Join me for a turn around the room, I must introduce you to a few individuals. You have been away for far too long.”

“I would be honored,” you muttered, taking her arm and letting her lead the way, ignoring the stares on you both as you whispered softly to the woman, “I think your plan is working.”

“More than, child,” she replied.

Violet smiled gratefully at the sight of Daphne and Simon approaching the rest of the family. “There you both are,” she muttered, squeezing her eldest daughter’s hands. “Surely you both can help me convince your brothers to dance this evening.”

Simon chuckled, exchanging a glance with Anthony. “All of them wish to dance?” he teased.

“Well I should hope Anthony will, especially since he has announces that he looking for a wife this season,” Violet stated, loud enough for those around them to hear.

Anthony groaned, glaring at his mother. “Must you?”

Violet just grinned, making the other two Bridgerton brothers laugh. Daphne, in contrast, looked around the room. “Who is that with Lady Danbury?” she asked softly.

Everyone glanced to the women, Violet gasping and smiling. “Oh, that is Lady Y/N Marlowe...I wasn’t sure if she would be invited tonight or not.”

“Dowager Baroness Marlowe?” Simon asked, glancing at Anthony, who nodded.

“She is...beautiful,” Benedict muttered.

“That she is,” Colin agreed.

Violet’s gaze snapped to her sons at the statements, while Daphne shared a smile with her husband. “And they’re making their way over now,” Eloise stated, her smile shifting to a smirk as Benedict and Colin both shifted.

“Ah, and here are,” Lady Danbury said, pulling you to a stop. “The Hastings and Bridgertons.”

You smiled at the group, dropping into a curtsy. “My Lords, Ladies, Graces.”

“It is so good to see you again, Lady Marlowe,” Violet Bridgerton said, smiling.

“It is good to be seen again,” you replied, glancing at Daphne. You had only ever seen Daphne Bridgerton in passing, but it was no secret that she was a kind soul, and you had wished she had been a friend during your time in the marriage games, and even more during hers. “You as well, I can hardly believe you’re married already.”

Daphne laughed, reaching out and squeezing your arm. “I can scarcely believe it as well. I missed you last season, though.”

“I am sad I missed your season as well,” you responded, glancing at her husband. “But you were very successful.”

“And I can only hope you will be this season,” Daphne commented, her hand brushing against your dance card. “Maybe my luck will rub off on you. Perhaps you should come over for tea this week, I would love to talk further without prying eyes.”

Your smile grew at her comment. “I would be honored.”

The Viscount cleared his throat then, and as you looked to him he asked, “So you are looking to remarry, then, Lady Marlowe?”

You nodded demurely. “I am, my Lord. While I’m grateful for my brother and sister for taking care of me, I wish to find love and a husband that will love me back.”

“Oh!” Violet gasped, her smile growing. “A love match, how exciting.”

“That is what we are hoping for,” Lady Danbury commented, her gaze turning to the three Bridgerton sons. “If only a gentleman would offer her a dance.”

“I cannot blame any of the men here for not doing so,” you responded, glancing over the three bachelors before looking to her. “It is intimidating, not only being the first ball of the season, but being in front of a woman who speaks her mind and knows what she wishes.”

Lady Danbury’s grin widened as Daphne, Eloise, Violet and Simon fought back laughter, the three Bridgerton men trying to hold back their shock. “Let us continue around the room then. Good day.”

The group nodded as the pair left, Violet turning and glaring at her sons. “That was a perfect opportunity to dance with a wonderful lady!” she hissed.

“We just got here,” Benedict replied, not wanting to be hit with her fan. “Can we not...look around the room first?”

“Benedict is right, there are plenty of women here to dance with,” Anthony stated. “All three of us do not have to dance with Lady Marlowe, Mother.”

“Well I think she was pleasant,” Eloise muttered. “She must be one of the most intelligent and brightest in the room if she’s with Lady Danbury.”

Colin hummed softly, his eyes trialing after Lady Danbury and Lady Y/N.

The dance music started then, and Simon turned to Daphne, holding out his hand with a soft smile on his lips. “Might I have this dance, your grace?”

She laughed, taking his hand. “You may, your grace.”

They left her family and moved to the dance floor, starting the motions. Simon could recognize the spark in her eyes, the scheming look she had that he had come to recognize after enough time with her now. “What are you thinking, my dear?” he asked.

“Benedict and Colin clearly were interested in Lady Y/N,” Daphne muttered, glancing at her and Lady Danbury. The pair were talking to another family, no gentlemen having touched or looking at her dance card. “No one wants to dance with her, yet.”

His wife’s words clicked in his mind immediately, and he responded, “Ah, I see. You want me to dance with her.”

Daphne’s smile grew, and she nodded. “I do. Would you be opposed?”

Simon smiled back, shaking his head. “Not in the slightest. I think that sounds like a wonderful plan.” The ton had whispered about them both coming back for the season, wondering if Daphne was already pregnant or would be soon, the only reason more eyes weren’t on them because of Lady Y/N or the diamond of the season.

If Simon could tip the scales, disrupt the ton yet again? He would jump at the chance.

You nodded politely to Lord and Lady Westwood, wondering how Lady Danbury was staying away as they spoke, and why she had introduced you to the couple. They seemed lovely, but you would do anything to move on from this conversation about cattle.

“I am sorry to interrupt.”

You all turned to face Duke Simon Hastings, Lord Westwood immediately bowing and stopping his sentence. “Your grace, you are not interrupting in the slightest,” he said.

“To what do we owe the honor?” Lady Danbury asked, smiling at the Duke.

He turned to you, smiling and holding out his hand. “I was wondering, Lady Marlowe, if I may have this dance.”

You smiled and rested your hand in his, grateful for the rescue. “You may, your grace.”

As he lead you to the dance, which was just beginning, you muttered, “Why do I suspect someone put you up to this?”

He chuckled, turning towards you. “Because someone did,” he answered. “My wife asked me to dance with you.”

“Really?” you clarified, unable to stop yourself from glancing at her as you both started to dance, the steps familiar and easy as you moved around each other. “Whatever for?”

“Daphne thinks that everyone seeing you dance with me will catch their attentions,” he stated softly, just quiet enough for no one else to hear. “And possible snap her brothers out of their stupors.”

“Well, if this one dance gets even one of her brothers to ask me to dance, I will owe you a bottle of scotch and her a bouquet of flowers,” you replied.

“You have a deal, my lady.”

You laughed, letting yourself smile as he spun you, not caring as everyone in the room watched you; they could continue to do so for all you cared. This was fun, the most fun you were having all evening, and part of you wasn’t sure if the ball would be any fun after this, so you were going to enjoy it.

To Violet and Daphne’s surprise, as Y/N and Simon danced not only did most of the room watch, but all three of the Bridgerton brothers stared intently.

Lady Danbury made her way to the Bridgerton matriarch and the duchess, smirking at them both. “I though I was the scheming one,” she muttered to them.

Violet and Daphne exchanged a smile, Daphne just smiling. “I don’t know what you’re speaking of, Lady Danbury.”

The elder woman just chuckled, glancing at the three brothers before leaning in closer to the ladies. “Do you think this will push them?”

Violet glanced at her sons, muttering, “I hope so.”

Benedict scoffed under his brother. “Why did Simon ask her to dance? I was just about to.”

Colin laughed. “I refuse to believe that. You were staring but had yet to move.”

“Both of you were merely staring, and probably would have all night,” Anthony muttered, glaring at them both.

“And why do you care?” Benedict shot back. “It seems as if you didn’t care for Lady Marlowe, brother.”

Colin commented, “He doesn’t care for any lady,” making Anthony roll his eyes.

“Just because I have requirements for my wife doesn’t mean I don’t like ladies,” he responded sharply.

Benedict and Colin both rolled their eyes at his statement, making Anthony adjust his jacket.

The song ended, Simon bowing to Y/N as she curtsied. With smiles on their faced, he escorted her off the floor towards the rest of the group, meeting his wife’s gaze. They had barely gotten close enough when Colin stepped forward with a hand out, asking, “Lady Marlowe, might I have your next dance?”

Benedict shoved his younger brother slightly as he stepped to meet him, bowing slightly, “And might I ask for the dance after that, my lady?”

Y/N bit her lips, glancing at Simon before smiling at the two. “I would be delighted, sirs.” She set her hand in Colin’s, letting him guide her back onto the dance floor.

Simon stepped back to his wife’s side, Daphne leaning towards him. “What was that smile for?” she asked.

“Because your brothers are dancing with Lady Marlowe, she has promised to bring over scotch for me and flowers for you when you invite her for tea,” he replied, making Daphne laugh.

Violet nudged her daughter. “Stop laughing and look at your brother.”

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