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[igotanidea]

Motivation: Benedict Bridgerton x model!reader

requested by @jaysgirlx :Benedict x slightly nude model!reader

***

Stories like that doesn’t happen very often. The chances of recreating the history written by this French poet under the name of Charles Perrault and entitled “Cinderella” was close to none, and yet – Y/N Y/L/N was the fruit of just such an unlikely union.

Her mother was a woman that the ton was more than quick to judge and call the woman fell, just because of her profession. An actress. A word that hardly escaped the mouths of higher class ladies and nobles. It was one thing to enjoy the woman of said profession skills while social event, and the other to acknowledge her presence in the society.

In simple words – the doors were closed for her to ever step out of her social class.

However, life has its own twisted ways of defying and swiftly changing the reality. The flow of the world river is unstoppable and with the right amount of patience, and with the few drops of persistence, water can change the riverbed.

Y/N’s father-to-be, young lord Y/L/N, the firstborn, attended one of the play in the London’s theater, performed due to the Queen’s upcoming birthday celebrations. Instantly getting enamored with young Y/N’s mother-to-be skills and range of emotions. Her talent and beauty, connected with the fact that she was far from the leeches he learned ladies from the ton to be, shone so bright in his eyes, that defying all the laws and rules set ages prior, he forgot his destiny, upbringing and duties to family, started courting the young woman and in time took her as his wife.

Obviously, the fact never got accepted and yet, his lordship, lord Y/L/N got the leverage in the fact he has been the only son and an heir to the title.

Therefore, Y/N, was and simultaneously was not a lady.

Which made her upbringing and consequently her entire life rather complicated.

The young girl took after her mother in the terms of talent and beauty and after her father in terms of humor and boldness.

Which, as you, dearest gentle reader, might already expect, was the reason, that her existence was to get even more complicated. 

***

One foot in one class, second in the other Y/N never felt like she belonged in either. Breaking societal rules just like her father.

Ever at the youngest age she came to a conclusion that her mere being in the world was rather unwelcomed reminder of the misalliance. No governess wanted to teach her. No young girls her age coming from good families wanted to be in her presence. Her own grandpapa and grandmamma never showed any interest in meeting her. Consequently, five year Y/N was practically being raised on the scene. Listening to her mamma’s stories about the wonders of theater, art, performing and becoming someone else to escape the reality that tended to be cruel, judgmental and unforgiving.

Especially the last part was to be remembered.

Especially when her mother felt ill and died before Y/N could reach adulthood. Followed suit by her father, lost in grief after losing the love of his life.

Leaving their daughter all alone, forced by the vicious circumstances to tend by herself.

At first, her noble and very elderly grandparents from father’s side wanted (forced) to take her under their wings, but Y/N quickly realized that they wished to raise her for a noble lady with every method possible. Corporal punishment included. Their simple reason behind the action was to not let a wild girl run around and slander their name.

She run away after less than a month putting on a different last name, an alias of sort.  

And maybe those set of conditions, fueled by the need to keep her parents’ legacy was the reason that upon reaching the age that young ladies were presented to the queen and debuted in the ton, Y/N started her shameful profession as a model in London Art Academy as well as a part-time access.

***

No matter the world’s opinion on her, she was keeping her head high, being proud of who she was, never hiding and refusing to bow down to the nobles, included the one who believed that a model was just another term for courtesan with the clear intent on acting on those convictions.

While other professional girls were timid and working out of sheer necessity to support themselves, their living, and commonly, their children, Y/N refused to hide, making quite a comfortable life for herself, given all the misevents. And as shocking as it may have been in a XVIII century London – thriving without a husband.

Enjoying every second spent in the sacred temple dedicated to art and education of  the future geniuses of the field, taking greatest pride in participating in the process. Sacrificing her heart, mind and soul to the muses.   

*** 

Y/N’s favorite days were those, when she was dressing in fantasy dresses and costumes fulfilling her mother’s words about becoming someone else, taking a mask, a life of an imaginary character, a shell that was to be filled to her own liking. And with her late father’s sense of humor she loved the ability to create characters that somehow mocked the people she knew in real life.

An older lady, busy with everyone’s interest?

A respected matron, whose life’s greatest ambition was marrying her daughters into the noble family?

A royalty with indomitable character and imposing her will without any embarrassment?

All welcomed.

And yet – there were also those specific art lessons for high-born gentlemen that were focused on anatomy. And those never required any intricate outfits at all, except maybe a tiny, thin piece of fabric, reveling more skin than it was societally savory.

***

Y/N might not have had the tiniest waist or the prettiest hair or delicate, fragile figure.

And many student were unsatisfied with said fact (those were the mentioned ones connotating model with hetaira).

And those were also the ones making her smirk under her nose. As if she didn’t know those gentlemen tended to engage in a different kind of art, that has little to zero connection with painting on canvas. Besides, in some cases, if the gentlemen’s  other skills were similar to those they showed in class …. poor wives.

However, there was one of them that seemed a little lost in the place. Not because he did not belong, since his talent was undeniable. It was rather because, unlike anyone else, he never said anything even mildly mean to her. Unlike anyone else he was treating her like a human being and not a chunk of flesh Unlike anyone else, she was a woman to him.

Well, maybe not in that sense of the word, but still a woman.

***

He was watching her with sparkles in his eyes that followed her own, no matter how much she was averting her gaze.

Beautiful.

Not like Daphne with her fair, smooth skin, rosy lips and silky hair.

No.

Y/N, as he learned her name was, was like a force of nature. Untamed. Powerful. With fire in her gaze and statuesque figure making her look like a goodness of war.

Athena.

And he was captivated by the internal strength and resilience that radiated through the whole room, reaching even the dimly lit corner of the classroom he found shelter in. Utterly unable to tear his eyes of her. Noticing the smallest details and blemishes on her skin, that only inflamed the fire of his interest.   

Oh, to have a piece of her attention.

But she was a model. And he was a lord, even if only a second son, deprived of the title. And even if she didn’t know it, her obvious pride would never allow her to approach him. A man from a higher class she learned to be incomprehensible in their love for worldly pleasure, driven by lusciousness, believing themselves to be above anyone else.

She would be more then delighted to take said men down a notch, but regardless of her pride, fire and independent nature, merely one ungrateful word would cause her to loose the job she loved so much.

Nonetheless, Benedict was neither terrene either the one to give up once his mind was made.

And he made it his personal pursuit to meet her.

***

“Lady Y/N.”

She raised an eyebrow at the voice coming from above her head when she was picking up the utensils left everywhere by reckless and uncaring students, used to being served.

“Surely you are joking my lord?”

“And why would I be joking?”

“I am not a lady and you are aware of that considering the circumstances. And if your lady mother—”

“My lady mother is occupied by my brother’s wife searching quest.”

“Oh yes, your brother, the viscount Bridgerton.”

“Mh. So you know who I am, don’t you?” Benedict’s ego went a little higher in the sky.

“Oh my lord, shall you expect me to be deaf and blind to miss the news of the season?”

“I—” the ego crashed down on the ground

“I may surprise you further then, my lord. I am quite capable when it comes to reading. The skill I use for more than merely enjoying Lady whistledown’s brochures, however I do enjoy the style of writing she presents. Quite talented with the narrative.”

“So you are not only a model but also a writer, lady Y/N?”

“And in my free time I also serve as a charlady. A woman of many talents.” She pointed out to the dirty pencils and accessories in her hands

"Such a surprising thought that-"

"That a woman can in fact have some more ambition than marrying into a noble family?"

"You do sound like one of my sisters..."

“Your sister surely is a smart woman."

Benedict shook his head with a smile, gaze pinned to the floor to avoid laughing and somehow offending his companionship.

“Which one of those gentlemen influenced your opinion this heavily?” Benedict grinned

“Excuse me?”

“Just reveal his name to me and I shall demand satisfaction”

This sentence actually made her laugh a little and before they realized what was happening they were both chuckling in the middle of the empty art classroom as if they were from the same class without any social barriers in-between.

“You’re Benedict Bridgerton.”

“And you are Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Indeed, At your service” she bowed in a very funny and very untrained way. “you must have put yourself through a great deal of trouble to learn my deepest secret.”

“And how entertaining it was to do so.”

“Was it?” she titled her head narrowing eyes a little studying his face. “that makes me wonder the purpose of said action.”

“Will you let a man keep a bit of his own secrets?”

“I must refuse to do so.”

“And this is precisely what I have been expecting to hear from you.”

“Are you challenging me now, my lord?”

“Not for a duel if that’s what-“

“It’s not.” She cut him out with a smile “now, If you forgive me, Bridgerton, I have my duties to tend to.” She bowed and with hands full of remnants of the art class started walking away.

“I shall hope to see you in the next class?” he called after her

“I  believe you said your family is occupied with your brother’s marriage …..? Shall you not be invested in those?”

“I—” dear lord, how was it possible that this woman was taking words out of his mouth this effectively? And he believed himself to be the witty one of the siblings. 

“Life is full of mysteries my lord and trying to predict what may happen In a week seems like an exercise in futility.”

She send him the last smile and disappeared for good, leaving Benedict with the lingering sense of dissatisfaction.

And suddenly making him forget about the fact that he has been considering renouncing the academy membership Anthony have so generously provided him with.

Having gained additional motivation, he was more determined to persevere.

[igotanidea]

Green

Nikolai had always had mixed feelings for the colour, green.

On his best days he didn't notice them but on his worst days, the emeralds in his royal ornaments weighed heavy on him.

He had always had mixed feelings for the colour green, until you wore the royal colour.

You were at a party and cloaked in green, with ornaments made especially for the queen of Ravka and he feels pride bloom in his chest; because the emeralds that weighed heavy on him were the same emeralds that protected you.

And protecting you was something he wanted to do forever.

[igotanidea]

Fallen.

-

Really enjoyed working on this commission about Jason. Thanks to my amazing commissioner🙏

[igotanidea]

Ok, so I was going through some of my old (like really old) drafs and find one with Morpheus x reader that has something to do with singing and Pink's song true love. XD

Do you want to have some laugh at my expense? XD

[igotanidea]

Run baby, run: AK!Jason x reader

part 2 to Somebody's watching me.

She looked so peaceful. So innocent.

And completely oblivious to the fact that the casual outing she went to with her friends was carefully observed by a pair of eyes, hidden under a metal helmet.

Or was she-?

He was like a predator.

Waiting for a single mistake of his prey to take a change and lunge at the opportunity fate presented him with.

Whatever the mistake may be in this case.

But sooner or later she was gonna make one.

Part ways with her friends.

Get drunk and bibulously let some guy touch her.

Dance to the music to the point of exhaustion and end up on the couch in a stranger’s house.

And he would be there to prevent the aftermath of that.

***

For the last week she was going crazy.

Ever since that one night when she saw a silhouette on the rooftop it felt like someone has been following her every move, ever step, lurking in the dark, so close to her and yet, just beyond reach. However, when she tried to tell her friends about they look at her like she was making a joke. So obviously she stopped doing as much as even mentioning it, cause the last thing she wanted was to be abandoned by the only people in her surroundings.

Even if those friends didn’t really deserve the name.

But still – those were the only one she had.

Incomparable with the Waynes she used to spend her time with years ago, before all went to shit. But Jason’s disappearance left an everlasting scar. The only thing she wanted was to forget it all, and yet – the only impossible thing in her life seemed to be letting go of the past. And being in the company of Dick, Tim, Babs and the rest of the clan was making her skin burn and her stomach twist and turn with the incoming, checkless panic attack. Like her entire body and mind felt the pressure of the past on her fragile conscience and damaged soul.

And the only thing she felt like doing in the Manor was either screaming or crying. 

So she moved on, or so she tried to convince herself of.

***

Mistake number one was left her drink unattended when she went to the toilet.

Rookie move with the possible grave consequences.

But it was gone when she came back. Only fueling her paranoia.

Mistake number two was letting her eyes off her companionship and being left alone by the exit with some drunken and already horny guys.

But when with shaky hands she pulled out her phone, desperately searching through her contact list for a potential backup, those men were already dragged into the nearest dark alley and knocked down.

But her worst mistake was not calling the cab and deciding on actually walking home. In her opinion it was a way to get some air and calm her rapidly racing heart, but she freaking forgot it was Gotham.

Like a freaking fool.

Under any other circumstances she would never and the fact that the though of going on foot even crossed her mind was the perfect reflection of her shattered mind spinning like a freaking Ferris wheel.

Something was wrong.

Something was awfully wrong and she felt like she was a main character in some horror movie.

Like that girl, who you watch on the screen, screaming at her to not go to that creepy attic from where the most suspicious sounds come, and then do the exact same thing when faced with a threat.

A ruffle of the leaves. The sound of an empty soda can rolling on the street. The flap of bird’s wing.

It all made her feel like a Freddy Krueger was coming after her.

And maybe she was not so far from the truth.

Her pulse was over the moon, heart running out of her chest, breath quickening, legs starting to move faster and faster and faster as she started running. Not really watching where as long as it was forward and away from whatever imaginary individual was chasing her.

With wild hair, tears in her eyes and blurry vision.

She was so stupid. So fucking stupid and mental, belonging in the mental institution due to her damaged brain refusing to stop dwelling on the past trauma.

“WATCH OUT!”

Before she was hit by a car a strong pair of arms grabbed her by the waist pulling her back to the pavement. She closed her eyes in fear letting whoever her savior was hold her trembling form. As weird as it was, for some reason being in this embrace felt… good. And familiar. Like she belonged there.

And if it was another wave of schizophrenic images coming from her brain she refused to accept it, freezing at the spot and waiting for it to pass.

But the stranger’s seeming grip on her body did not falter. For a longer while that seemed both like an eternity and like a second.

“Y/N….”

It must have been a wind. It must have been a wind. It must have been a wind.

“Y/N…”

The second the voice hit her ears again she turned around abruptly, but there was no one there.

She was going crazy.

With wide terrified eyes, slowly coming back on earth she finally took in her surroundings.

Realizing, to her undeniable terror, that she was right next to Dick’s house. And even worse – noticing the lights in his windows. Which meant he was here and not in Bludhaven. And not patrolling. Which was an uncommon, if not impossible conjuncture.

The past finally caught up with her.

“Y/N?!” Dick noticed her outside and opened the window, holding back the instinct to just jump outside (from 3rd floor) like an acrobat he was. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? Are you ok?”

“No…” she sobbed “No, I’m not okay…” she finally broke down in the middle of the night, on the empty street.

“Damn!” a few minutes later Grayson was downstairs holding her for dear life. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Whatever happened, you are safe with me now, I promise.”

She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. Crying from fear and stress and helplessness.

“Shhh… come on, let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up. I got you.”

When Dick was slowly guiding her to his apartment, the same predatory red eyes were focused on the pair and the sudden need for vengeance sprouts buds, growing roots deep into the long-petrified heart, crushing down the ice it was covered with.

No one was going to take her away from him this time.

@vaniasagitaa @gone-batty-fics @astrelz @not-herexo @deans-spinster-witch @calicocat45

[igotanidea]

GUYS!!!!!!

[igotanidea]

Definitely fluffy enough.

Love it ❤️

Jason request for whoever's willing.

Reader is getting emotional because of period/stress/tiredness/ saving people's asses at work. Therefore she starts having silly thoughs about how no one cares and no one needs her and how she's a terrible bad person deserving all that shit.

And Jason just can't take those words coming from his princess.

Seriously I am in DIRE need of fluff and comfort.

[igotanidea]

Bridgerton Masterlist

ANTHONY BRIDGERTON

Anthony x wife!reader series

part 1 to Too much

part 2 : Not enough

part 3 : Almost there

part 4: Stuck

part 5: Just right

BENEDICT BRIDGERTON

Motivation (model!reader)

[igotanidea]

Let there be closure. I am literally crying.

[igotanidea]

Just right: Anthony Bridgerton x reader

part 1 to too much

part 2 : not enough

part 3 : almost there

part 4: Stuck

A/N: I am NOT sorry for all the possible spellings and punctuation mistakes there. It's been almost 2 months since "Stuck" and I am FREAKING OUT posting this while crying because it's over. Enjoy and thank you <3

Warnings: end of series, 4082 words (!!)

***

He felt like a fool.

Reverting to his old ways instead of showing all the emotions coursing through his veins.

Turning around and walking away, leaving her alone, when all he wanted was to fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness.

But how would the viscount Bridgerton look, while doing so, observed by all the ton, including the two biggest gossipers in the person of lady Featherington and lady Danburry?

Seemed like whatever he would choose to do, he would end up being a dolt.

“Anthony!”

He didn’t even flinch hearing someone calling him, nor recognize the voice. Too stubborn to stop he only continued his marching pace, hoping for the love of god that whoever dared to try and approach him in this furibund mood would get discouraged.

Not very gentlemanly of him.

“Anthony!”

He quickened his pace.

“Anthony Bridgerton!”

“What?” he almost spat spinning around on his heel, leaving a dent in the ground, taking on his most stern expression. If his obvious ignorance of the caller was not a deterrent perhaps the frown and fiery eyes would.

Supposedly it might have worked on anyone else, but soon enough Anthony transformed from the head of a family and the viscount into a little child, upon noticing that it was his mother, exhorting him to the halt.

“Mother…” he muttered looking at the ground, having only confirmed his previous theory of his role in this entire disarray.

“Let us take a walk.” Violet smiled brightly taking her eldest’s arm and imposing a walking rather than soldierly pace. “What did you Anthony?” the gentle expression never left her face even when she was scoffing her unmanageable child.

“Why would you think it was me that--?” the viscount took the last resort to protect his own pride, but the tightening grip on his forearm betrayed the fact that Violet knew the entire backstory, behind the marital disagreement.

“I raised you. I daresay it gives me enough knowledge to not answer your question. “

“If you let me –"

“Don’t, Anthony. Y/N has been nothing less but charming since the beginning.. "

"That's the way to describe her--" the man muttered

"Strong-willed and persuasive, surely, you wouldn’t take anything but, but charming nonetheless. So do tell me so we could remedy the damage before it arises further.”

“Shall you mistake me for Daphne and ask about my feelings—”

“Anthony Bridgerton!”

“I am a man, mother. A head of the family.”

“Clearly said head has been missing guidance in the right direction.”

“Mother!”

“Do not raise your voice on me son.”

“Apologies…”

“Good.” Violet beamed serenely “Do you think me so little knowledgeable to ask your emotions? I do not. I’m merely asking for facts, which you clearly have such a strong inclination to.”

Anthony mumbled something once more.

“do you wish you lose your wife, viscount?”

“What?” such possibility never crossed his mind. Y/N’s anger, her hurt, pain and merciless avoidance – yes. Abandonment and lack of her presence nearby? No. She would never… She could never. Lord above, who was she thinking she was? A woman married into a noble family wanting to cause a scandal by resenting her husband?

And once again, while his heart should have been shattered and humble enough to clarify the turmoil, the sudden blood rush turned into clenched fists and ire. All because he could not bare the thought of losing her for good, however hiding behind all the negativity was easier. It was something he was used to for years.

Nevertheless it was impossible to deny the facts further. It was her influence that caused the improbable openness in his soul was the exact same reason of his spirit bleeding.

And he needed her back.

Each minute without her was a minute lost. A minute less in the so very limited time they were given as a miracle on earth.

“What do I do?” he raised gaze at his mother, now truly looking like a lost man. Man in love, who was probably not the most romantic and gentle one with words, but still deeply infatuated with the woman who gave her whole life to him.

“Do not fret my dear. We shall alleviate the situation immediately.”

***

Y/N’s feelings were beyond anything possible to describe with words.

There she was, with her feet rooted to the ground, wishing for – and willing to accept – apologies but met with the harsh reality of the stone wall of Anthony’s behavior.

Accompanied by Eloise, smirking like the know-it-all she was, and Benedict with the compassion written all over his face.

Presumably, shall they not be there, the young lady viscountess Bridgerton would abandon all the pretenses of a woman of her position and begun blubbering in the middle of the promenade. However, the most mischievous of Bridgerton siblings acted with wit and sense, involving their dear sister-in-law in a challenging conversation, capably hauling her away from prying eyes and gossipmongers, preventing any possible rumors about incongruousness.

***

For unmistakable reasons she was not in the mood to see their ludicrous older brother and with the sudden disappearance of Violet, Benedict and Eloise took the privilege to invite Y/N back to the Bridgerton’s family house and extend the invitation for indefinite period of time. After all, Anthony might have been the head of the family as he proudly announced to anyone who was willing to disobey his wished and/or not listen, but Benedict was the oldest bachelor of the house and was more than willing to make a few decisions of his own to finally be seen as something more than merely second son and waiting for his time. 

***

Violet returned home few hours later and accepted the presence of her daughter-in-law with a mysterious smile and not a single word of objection. As amazing and uplifting as such approach might have been, it was also highly surprising. Viscountess Bridgerton was well known for her mitigating skills and tendency to scotch conflicts almost immediately, especially in her own family.

And it raised a lot of questions and secrets that Y/N and Eloise tried to uncover spending the night in the former’s bedchambers, talking for hours, creating conspiracy theories and preparing for whatever may have been coming.

Cause the fact that Violet was going to help her oldest son in winning back his wife’s attention was more than conspicuous.

Only that Y/N, who was forgiving and accepting at the begging was slowly turning cold at the fact that her husband could not simply apologize but rather resorted to some intricate ways of regaining her favor.

After a year of marriage, should he not know her enough for independent ideas and not seek his mother's avail?

***

First thing happening in the very early morning, was Y/N’s most trusted servant humbly asking for her lady’s time, which was bizarre and – as any other family may have deemed – inadequate and even shaming.

Moreover, any other house would quickly discard the commoner showing at the mighty's doorstep but Bridgertons were prone to discarding rules in private and with those who earned their trust. Be it servants or nobles. And Y/N was no exception to the rule, welcoming her maid with a smile upon seeing the person from her own household.

“My lady.” The girl bowed so low, she almost touched the floor with her nose.

“My dear Laura, please stand up, there is really no need for that-“ Y/N grabbed her hands and forced the girl up. “I assure you that-“

“But Lady Violet and Miss Bridgerton –“

“I assure you that they do not expect you to kiss the ground they walk on.” Y/n almost laughed at Laura’s discombobulation. Poor one was doing everything in her power to not make her lady embarrassed and act like a good and obedient servant, almost expecting Violet or Eloise to be cruel and judgmental.

“Dear Y/N, did you give your helpers the idea that we are some sort of tyrants?” Violet send her daughter-in-law a honest smile, which immediately got Laura’s reaction in the form of blushing.

“Lady Bridgerton I apologies if my appearance is the dishonor on-”

She didn’t even finish the sentence, met with Y/N, Violet’s and Eloise’s laugh and a polite look from more balanced Francesca sitting on the chaise longue.

“Do not fret, my girl, we are more than happy to welcome you in our household.”

“Tha-thank you my lady…”

‘Now I assume you came to talk to your lady, so we shall give you some privacy. Come girls, make haste for the matter to cover is of utmost delicacy.”

“And how shall you know it mamma?” Hyacinth almost twitched her ears, not really understanding much of why Y/N was with them rather than with Antony, but curious as a young girl could be.

“Precisely mamma, how shall you know?” Eloise, immediately picked up her sister’s question, only not so susceptible to extenuations.

“Eloise Bridgerton, I shall expect you to practice the bowing before your incoming debut in front of the queen. Daphne made quite an impression and –“

“Daphne was deemed diamond of the season and such title is below my ambition.”

“Regardless, you do not want to trip or slip do you?”

Eloise (and everyone else) obviously remembered what happened to Featherington’s sisters and the embarrassment so with a heavy, exaggerated sigh and one quick, sharp, bright look at Y/N Eloise left the room, followed by her mother and sisters.

And once the lady and her trusted eyes and ears of the house were alone, who could stop the two of turning a lot more unmindful of societal norms?

“My lady, the lord has been quite annoyed since the quarrel you lordships have had. He even refused to eat his favorite meal.” Laura confessed with blushing cheeks

“Are you to tell me that Prescott prepared the roasted pork for Anthony after he was so unjust towards the lady of the house? I shall have a word about a loyalty with him upon my return.” Y/N satirized wholeheartedly.

“When shall you return my lady? Seeing as that viscount is not the one to have a change of heart and admit his wrongdoing easily?”

“He will Laura. One way or another I am fairly convinced my husband may take a long way to do so and take the aid of his mother whilst deciding. It’s just I am not fully convinced if the apology made with cheating are worth accepting.”

“Oh! You took the lower route here my lady forgive the audacity.”

“Just the route of a woman who expect honesty from her man.”

“Fair enough I suppose. But shall you be agitated my lady I take it you do not wish to accept the viscount bestowment?”

“Bestowment?” Y/N frowned a little in confusion “and what shall that be?”

“I do not know, my lady. I am merely a messenger—”

“I believed you to be on my side Laura.”

“And I am, my lady! But one do not object the command of the lord, that is clearly ready to vent his anger on the first soul that happen to be unfortunate enough to be around.”

“My god, you are a prattler!” Y/N laughed “where is that gift in question? Cause since it is mine either way we might as well get a little curious, shall we? Would be such a shame to put it to waste.”

Laura stood up from her chair and started heading to the corridor, but Hyacynth was first to barge into the room carrying some parcel that was almost bigger than her.

“Y/N! Is this that gift from Anthony!?” clearly she was eavesdropping  “Can we take a look, please? It’s so big I wonder what it is? Come on, open it up! Open it up!”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” Eloise muttered but there was no denying she was equally curious as her sister.

Y/N only rolled  her eyes, inviting all the girls over and opening the box. Fishing out the most beautiful and definitely expensive new dress. The color was perfectly matching Y/N’s complexion and the material delicate yet durable – Anthony knew his wife and her adventurous tendencies.

“It’s so beautiful and elegant” Francesca whispered touching the dress with delight.

“So what, he think he can just buy her the garment and she will forgive him?” Eloise scoffed “Men are so simple minded and belittling of women!”

“Try it on, Y/N!” Hyacinth encouraged, almost jumping from excitement

“Do not try it on! This would be relenting!” Eloise objected.

“He made a gesture!”

“It’s not a gesture! It’s an attempt of buying her forgiveness!”

“Y/N!”

“Y/N?!”

“Quiet!” Y/N finally managed to break through the noise of two sisters. ““No offence girls, but this is my marriage and my decision. One I have to make by myself. So thank you “ she smiled brightly but with a hint of annoyance “for your positions on things, but I am perfectly capable of weighting the significance of the gift, on my conviction to forgive or not forgive him.”

“Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”

“Do not go Y/N!”

“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”

“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!” “Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”

“Do not go Y/N!”

“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”

“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!”

***

Anthony was waiting for her in the garden outside some estate she had no idea existed. After all, Y/N has spent her entire life in London, rarely being invited to the cottage. And in this case it could have been used a leverage, not that he was aiming for measuring forces and cold calculation.

No.

He was walking back and forth, almost trampling a path in the ground in a place where it should never be. Nervous enough to anxiously fiddle with his fingers like a lady before her debut entering the society. Hoping she would come. Wishing for any entity in heaven might want to listen that she would take this dress he send her as an expression of humility rather than boosting like a rooster. Praying that Eloise wasn’t there with her sharp tongue and unrestrained thoughts to discourage his beloved from accepting both the gift and the invitation.

The minutes turned to hours and even his father’s pocket watch refused to work with Anthony in this important moment. Having no regard to the poor flowers any other plants standing no chances against his heavy riding boots, the time seemed to stand still.

For whatever it was worth it, Anthony Bridgerton swore to himself that he would rather turn into a sack of boned waiting in this desolate place than walk away while there was still a glimmer of hope she might appear. He was done and fatigued with missed opportunities, poorly chosen and ill-spoken words.

It was never his intention to said all those atrocious words to her.

Too much.

Dear Lord.

Now that he was thinking about it, his heart was capering in a way that filled him with self-hatred. After all the pain he might have caused her during that little hurtful exchange while she did nothing more than be there for him. Even if he not exactly wished for it. Even if he himself didn’t know that her presence in his life was the best thing that happened since his father’s death. If not since forever.

Anthony wasn’t the one to believe in signs or any spiritual influence on earth, but the more he was dwelling on his own misery, the more deliberative of their first meeting he was becoming.

It was late lord Bridgerton’s death anniversary and as any other year – he separated himself from the rest of the family. To show how adamant his heart and mind was and to underline that this was nothing more than just another day in a line of any other similar ones. But the truth was, he wanted to visit his father’s grave alone without any possible disturbances or havoc that his younger siblings could have caused. None of them really knew Edmund Bridgerton the way Anothony did. The first born son, the heir to the title, deprived of his father’s guidance and presence and forced to take responsibility for the family in way too young age.

He needed to be by himself, cause god forbid anyone seeing him showing any signs of humanity and indulging in grief.

And his family knew and accepted it.

She didn’t.

Just a stranger, strolling by herself in the area, looking like a commoner, having no regards to the sanctity of the moment nor the place she found herself in.

And worse for her – spotting Anthony in the never-seen moment of vulnerability written all over his face.

“Lord Bridgerton” she bowed in a way that showed that the savage, Anthony took her for, actually had manners. And that he knew him, but this was not so unexpected.

He only grunted in response to annoyed by an unfortunate set of circumstances that worked against her. The viscount himself was not going to bow to a girl that was clearly a servant, with messy hair and in a dress that was far from anything a woman, even of lower position should be seen in.

“Don’t you have anywhere else to be, girl?” he muttered under his nose, throwing daggers with his eyes.

“I’m sorry my lord but-“

“You should be sorry. I am convinced your lady nor your lord will be pleased with the fact that their service wanders alone in an area that does not belong to them!”

“Service?” Y/N smirked looking at him with amusement and twinkling eyes. And Anthony with his youthful energy and virility could not miss the fact that she was actually pretty.

“Yes, service.” He hissed at her “now get out of here girl, before you get yourself in far more trouble from me and end up on the street!”

“I shall-“ she obviously was not going to let anyone maltreat her like that, but her acuity wore up that very moment. She noticed the weariness in viscount’s eyes, noticed the monument nearby, and realized what day of the month it was.

“Forgive me, my lord.” She bowed in respect “I shall be on my way. And I shall not mention this meeting to anyone, hopefully wishing for you to forget my impertinence.”

She was gone as fast as she appeared, and Anthony thought to never see her again.

Until the next rout Daphne was attending, where he actually did.

Immediately realizing the scope of his previous mistake, upon learning that the service girl was in fact Miss Y/L/N, the youngest daughter of Lord Y/L/N. And met with another look of those glistening eyes and amused face expression. Forced to accompany her for the evening, since apparently Lady Bridgerton and Lady Y/L/N has made some arrangements for the future.

He was thinking it was all just a coincidence back then, but now he came to conclusion that it must have been his father who send this girl into his life. Knowing better than him that she would turn his ways around, challenge him, test him patience mercilessly and yet – that she would be the one to love him unconditionally and whom he would love with all his broken and unperfect self.

And the burden of possibility of ruining it all for them was even more overwhelming.

He clasped his hands behind his back, walking shorter and shorter distances, turning back more and more often, stuck in his belief that he would stay here as long as she didn't show up, even if -

“Anthony.”

Viscount spun around so abruptly it almost caused him falling to the ground.

She came.

She truly came.

It was like meeting her all over again, back in time, back next to his father’s grave.

Only she wasn’t looking like a servant girl now.

She was wearing the dress he sent her, looking not only like a viscountess, but like a queen herself. His queen. His wife. His love. His everything.

Her skin was radiant due to the color of the material (just like Violet predicted), cheeks flushed, hair done in perfect curls surrounding her face, bright like a sun.

“Y/N….”

“It was so unwise on your part viscount to call upon me and invite me into a wild place a woman like me should never step foot on.” She said sternly, but the everlasting and never changing glistening of her eyes betrayed her true intention “and perilous, may I say? Far from the city? Lady travelling alone? So many hazards awaiting me on the way.”

“Benedict and Colin were following your post chaise.”

“Oh I knew I heard someone laughing on the way. But my coachman brushed my concerns off!”

“Did you really believed I would send my greatest treasure into the wild without proper security?” Anthony took a few steps forwards, reaching for her hands and placing gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“Your brothers?” Y/N let him show the courtesy, but raised eyes in skepticism of the words.

“Believe me my lady, you should never underestimate the man of the Bridgerton house.”

“In what aspect my lord?”

“In every aspect, dear.” He looked deep into her eyes.

“Why did you ask me to meet you here?” Y/N quickly averted her eyes, because Anthony’s gaze were so full of passion, love and genuine remorse and apology she found herself falling into his charms. And this couldn’t have been so easy for him. “You sister discounselled me on coming here.”

“And yet, you came my lady.” Anthony reached for her chin and slowly, gently and with tenderness turned her face towards him so that their eyes had to meet again.

“Anthony I –“

“My love, I am sorry.”

“this is not—”

“Let me speak” he hushed her, not breaking eye contact. “I asked you here, because this is the very place where my father asked for my mother’s hand. Where he pledged her his undying love, support and loyalty. And you, out of all people in the world, learned how much I cherish my father’s memory and his legacy.

“Anthony-“

“Therefore, here I am. Standing in front of you, expressing my deepest condolences-“

“Oh, dear lord, Tony!” she cried out in frustration “stop using the words you would say to me if Lady Whistledown were nearby! Tell me how you feel!”

How he felt was not with words.

How he felt was expressed by the way he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to his chest, capturing her lips in the searing but gentle kiss that conveyed more than any noble and dignified words of a lord could.

I love you.

By his strong arms encompassing her like a shelter from the storm.

I won’t ever let go of you.

By tender caress of her hair and back.

I will always cherish you.

By the way his lips were moving against her, whispering silent words understood only by two souls forevermore yearning for each other.

I am sorry.

She was the first one to pull back for air, reluctantly so.

“My love. My beloved.”

She smiled at him, connecting their foreheads, allowing his arms to tighten around her waist and waiting for what was coming next to assess the truth behind his words.

“Am I too much now?” she whispered

“You are always too much. To much for me to keep. To much for me to even wish and pray for. Too much of a blessing in my life. Too much in the best possible sense and—”

This time It was her who cut him off by a kiss, silencing anything else that might come from his lips. He was honest and sincere. And if he was trying to apologize by saying anything else and backing out on what he said back there she probably would not forgive him sensing manipulation. But this?

“I forgive you.” She whispered against his lips.

“Thank God.”

“Is this cottage inhabited or--?”

“No. It’s not. And I intend on taking advantage of it right this moment.” He grabbed her and carried inside bridal style, ready to not get back to London for at least a couple days.

(spoiler alert below)

I got a request for a fluff pregnancy fic.... <3

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[igotanidea]

There;s like 99% chance the finale of "Too much" will be posted today (7 pm at my timezone)

Oh my god! I am so excited!!!!

[igotanidea]

Do you think you will be able to post it today

I'm somewhere halfway into it. That;s why I asked whether you wanted two shorter chapters or one longer :D

[igotanidea]

help me out here.

So...

do you guys want one long closure of "too much" or two shorter parts?

[igotanidea]

Omg you write amazing especially your bridgerton fic you write as if it’s actually in the regency era and I love it, I hope you will write for bridgerton/Anthony again in the future

of course <3

And hey, I'm here if you have any ideas ;)

[igotanidea]

you know i love your writing and id like to request a benedict bridgerton x slightly nude model reader, it doesn't have to be spicy/suggestive but i wonder how'd that play out if benedict became attracted to her

Hi there :)

Know it;s been a while, but I'm back on my writing vibe. (And on the newest Bridgerton season vibe too XD).

Therefore, my lady, take my promise to deliver that request right after finishing "too much" series. :D

[igotanidea]

OMG I CANT WAIT FOR THE LAST PART

The waiting is (almost) over now!

Hope I won't disappoint :D

[igotanidea]

Hiii, I just wanted to say I just read your Anthony story and I love it so much😫😫😫♥️♥️♥️

Thank you <3