Bridgerton Imagines

Flash of Mauve, Splash of Puce // C.B.

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: use of female pronouns, use of the word 'wife', masquerade balls, lots of fluff and comfort, anxiousness, worries, panic, ballroom dancing, mentions of alcohol. THIS GOT ACCIDENTALLY STEAMY AND THEN FADES TO BLACK, I AM APOLOGISING NOW.

Word count: 3.2k 

Title: Phantom of the Opera - Masquerade

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The annual masquerade ball held exclusively at Bridgerton House was not an event to be missed. Anyone who was anyone in London society was invited; it was a night in which alliances were forged, relationships bloomed, and wit tested to its very brink.

There was no better hostess than that of Violet Bridgerton; her astute eye caught every imperfection, fixing it within a matter of moments. Having held this ball for close to thirty years, she knew exactly how to play the crowd to achieve the perfect reaction.

This meant that her family had to be punctual; they had no excuse for lateness no matter how early into a marriage they find themselves. Violet Bridgerton rarely demanded anything of her children; happy for them to find their own way in life with only little interference on her behalf, but she would absolutely not accept her beloved children being late to their own mother's ball when they have been guests at the event for all of their lives.

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The rings sit happily on your left hand. At the right angle, they shimmer in the light of the room, bringing a small smile to your face even as you release a shaky breath. Your gown of gold hugs your figure, cut in the same style as your wedding dress. The skirts flare out in a manner that you know would be spectacular when spun around the dancefloor.

Nerves were beginning to make themselves known; in the shaking of your hands, the turning of your stomach and the wateriness of your smile. Tonight would be your first event with Colin as your husband. How many balls had he courted you at? Four? Five? Too many to count yet tonight was something else entirely; a new level to your life that felt as if it was going to be inspected at every turn.

Pinching your cheeks, you try to bring some colour to your face, hoping it would do something to bring some life into your worried expression.

The door to your bedroom opens with a small click. In the mirror, you spy the muscular figure of the man you had pledged your forever to. Colin shuts the door to your room; leaning back against it with a satisfied smile.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" You ask, trying to keep the hope out of your voice. You'd give anything to stop the growing worry turning your gut to lead, even if that meant trapping yourself in your room all night.

Colin remains silent, his blue eyes growing darker as his gaze runs over the way your dress hangs from your body. The tightened waist pushing your breasts higher on your chest; he lets his stare linger there for a moment before meeting your eyes in the mirror and smiling wickedly.

You roll your eyes, returning your focus to ridding yourself of the worry plaguing you. Logically you knew that tonight was going to be a wonderful evening; spending time with your family and dancing with your new husband. Yet, you couldn't help but panic over the myriad of eyes watching your every move, waiting for you to mess up in some shape or form so it can become the juicy material whispered around high tea in the week after the ball.

Without a word, Colin pushes himself off the door, strolling leisurely to where you stand before the large mirror. "You look exquisite," Colin murmurs, trailing feather light kisses along your shoulder to the base of your neck. You tilt your head, giving your insatiable husband easier access to the skin he had spent most of the honeymoon marking with his lips.