#discreet-eccentric-affairs

[pupil-of-law]

(the supine stem of confiteor is cōnfess - um, - u)

[omniishambles]

        BENEDICT || @discreet-eccentric-affairs​         Semi Plotted Starter !

        * * *

 The Bridgerton daughters were more than delighted at the chance to dance the night away with their mysterious visitor. The Count had arrived in London at just the right time, the most exciting and frivolous time. During the season everyone was busy showing themselves off, along with their wealth and their good fortune. There were also a great many young ladies entering society for the first time, something which was celebrated with great fervor by London’s elite.

 It was marvelous. Dracula adored crowds, wanted to be among them and ingratiate himself with the Lords and ladies so enjoying themselves. Though as he escaped the dance floor for a moment to do another sweep of the party, he noticed one of the Bridgerton sons had taken himself away, secluded and scribbling away at a sketchpad.

   “Some here whisper that you’re a bit of a wall flower. But I can see the truth.” Dracula said as he approached, moving with silent grace despite his height. “An artist requires solace in order to observe. And they always see the world differently. What do you see?”

        * * *

[alwaysanangcl]

Morning After

The sun is warm as it trails in through the cottage windows. It's a strange thing, not being hurried by the morning rays. Usually, when she's snuck away to spend time with Benedict, the cloak of darkness is a necessity but here, in the Bridgerton family's summer cottage, there aren't eyes to hide away from. There are no whispers to avoid or gossipers to stir into a frenzy. Instead, she eases into wakefulness, bare and stretched beside Benedict in the bed they'd--- A blush warms her features as the previous night's activities come back to her in a vivid string of memories.

"Good mornin'. . ." She gently coos, shifting to nuzzle at his jaw, lips drawing along warm skin toward his ear, "Wake up, sleepyhead. . ."

[antoniwrites]

@discreet-eccentric-affairs​ continued from HERE

Looking at Benedict, she raised her glass to toast with him. “ Valeria Arryn. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Mr. Bridgerton. ” She was never quite sure whether to say Lord or Lady so she thought that basic polite titles would suite just fine. Her aunt Emily was busy speaking with the other mothers about gossip and affairs and such, it all bored Valeria a great deal. Valeria touched his glass before taking a sip. “ Not too keen on finding a wife, then? Or is it dancing that you do not care for? ”

[nanlanmoarchived]

@discreet-eccentric-affairs​ said :  ✌️

If anyone had told the young miss on her journey from her home to London that there would come an evening that she, just like her mother before her, had absconded with a dashing man to their own secret hideaway, she would’ve laughed in their face. She had agreed to come to live with her uncle, but his stipulations of integrating into society and inevitably to find a husband were far from her thoughts. Without her parents she felt lost and anchoring herself to a man felt hollow, no matter what her uncle offered as incentive. 

And yet, here she was, curled in the lap of the man she now could imagine a future with. Propriety had long since been abandoned since their arrival to the cottage and so they lazed together nestled on the couch beside the fireplace, fingertips tracing along any exposed skin they could find of one another. Soft lilting giggles and murmured sweet nothings fill the spaces between the crackling logs as the tip of Jessica’s nose brushed against Benedict’s. 

It was then that his fingers brushed across her lips, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards in a smirk before falling open. Her gaze grew hooded as his fingers slipped over her tongue. A delicious heat flushed through her causing her to shift and press her thighs together while her lips closed around his fingers. She sucked gently, tongue drawing flat smooth strokes against his skin as she pulled back just enough to slowly draw his fingers from her mouth. Her fingers laced with his as she leaned forward to press a lingering kiss along his jaw, “Feeling adventurous, hmm?” She cooed, another kiss a little higher, “Whatever you want, I’m yours.”

[nanlanmoarchived]

@discreet-eccentric-affairs​ said :  Five times kissed

1. This kiss tastes like whiskey and tobacco and all the secrets yet to be shared. It’s giddy and stolen and wakes her from her dreams. In the midnight darkness she traces her lips and wonders when opportunity might smile on them again. 

2. This one is unhurried. Exploratory and familiar, this kiss steals her breath and shows her exactly what it means to be vulnerable. She can feel the way the corners of his mouth tilt upwards and her own move to match. 

3. Goodbye tinges this kiss with sadness. Brief as it might be, it sears her skin long after she’s returned home. No matter how hard she tries to forget it and those that came before it, she can’t ignore how desperately her heart misses that final touch, bitter as it might’ve been. 

4. Social standings always change but predilections for coloring outside of the social lines are hard to get rid of. Harder still is ignoring the ache of first love. Restraint keeps this kiss polite. It’s shared to say, I miss you and Remember when. . .? But no more. 

5. This kiss follows quick on the heels of the other and breaks restraint completely. It tastes of making up for lost time and aching hope and threatens to undo her completely.

[nanlanmoarchived]

continued with @discreet-eccentric-affairs​ from here

Good lord the young woman had done it now. As if the trouble she’d found herself in the hours prior to Benedict’s arrival back to his room wasn’t enough, she’d panicked and now sat curled amongst the blanket of a man’s bedroom. Trust was a tricky thing in London. With the ever present eyes of Lady Whistledown lurking and the pressure of competing with others of the aristocracy to garner the attention of possible suitors, any misstep was to be navigated carefully. That’s what’d landed her sneaking into the Bridgerton home and hiding in the artist’s room. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but as the door opened she roused with a lance of anxiety. If anyone other than her friend had entered-- But it’s his hushed whisper of a name. . .Genevieve? Her brow flickers upwards, “Oooh-la-la. . .” She jested, but the concern on the man’s features called her attention back to how terrible she must’ve looked. 

The redhead smiled a little, though the split on her lip tugged and caused a small wince, “It would seem that my dear friend from the other night at Henry’s has a penchant for gambling with the type of men who don’t take missed payments lightly.” Aside from her busted lip, a bruise had blossomed along her left cheekbone and she presented her bruised knuckles in front of herself with a soft chuckle, “I will say that I gave as good as I got and it was enough to get myself away from his home but--” She hesitated, “I might’ve lied to my Uncle about where I was goin’ to avoid havin’ a chaperone. He trusts your family, so I said I was comin’ here when I’d gone to his home instead. The bookkeepers came while I was there and-- I can’t go home like this, he’ll lose his mind if he finds out the truth let alone anyone else along the way. . .” She hesitated, hating putting Benedict in this position, “Could you write to him, say I’ve fallen asleep or somethin’, just to buy me some time? He leaves for business tomorrow, I can sneak in and he’ll be none the wiser. . . I just don’t want to lose what little freedom he’s given me.”

[nanlanmoarchived]

continued with @discreet-eccentric-affairs​ from x

“And yet plenty of young ladies are in attendance, Mr. Bridgerton.” The ginger’s lips pulled into a mischievous smirk, “I’d assume we’re both here the very same way: By makin’ friends with someone who invited us.” Thin fingers gently clasped around the man’s hold on her chin, not removing it, simply reveling in the touch that has been so outlawed since her arrival in London. “My friend has asked me to sit for him and what sort of muse would I be if I refused, hm?” It’s only then that Jessica pulled away, her fingers intermingling with Benedict’s, arm outstretched as she stepped closer to the drawing room with a coquettish grin, “You’re more than welcome to join, I do believe there’s space left for another artist if that is your predilection.”