#Daphne bridgerton x reader

[allthornsnopetals]

We are not Friends D.Bridgerton

Description: A falling out results in a lost friendship, between Y/n and Daphne, due to this, the two have not been friends for some time. But a sticky situation occurs and they are to come back together again. Let's hope the truth comes out, or God help these women.

"Mama!" Daphne cries, clenching the newest Lady Whistledown gossip in hand, pacing the drawing room, breaking closer to tears.

Violet Bridgerton rushes in, barely having a moment to steady herself before Daphne is crashing into her arms, weeping a set of worked up emotions.

"What seems to be the matter?" Violet takes her hand, sitting them both on the sofa, ringing for tea.

"Look!" She shoves the parchment in her chest, sulking in her handkerchief.

Violet's eyes blew open, shock visible on her face. "Oh, no... Anthony!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n gasps, her mouth agape, caring not for her breakfast, storming out of her room.

"This has to be some sort of joke."

"Papa! Edger! Look at what Lady Whistledown had published!" She almost screams, running to the drawing room, slamming the parchment down on the breakfast table.

Damon jumps, spilling his tea with Y/n slumping herself on the sofa, visibly hopeless. "Must you be so loud, Y/n." He hisses, taking the paper with a scowl. "Sorry, papa but just read it."

Dearest gentle readers,

It seems, a simple ruse, can stain even the purest fabrics, even a Baudelaire and Bridgerton. Something new has come to this authors attention... Something rather fake, such as a false friendship. It seems, Miss Y/n Baudelaire and Miss Daphne Bridgerton, have never been allies, let alone friends for almost a year. You see, before the season of debutantes and marriage, the close friends had a falling out, one that led to tears, unspoken words and unfortunately an unmendable relationship. If it were me, I would have guessed a man had been involved. They have fooled us all with their plastic grins, gentle tones and 'friendly' banter. All this time behind closed doors, the two ladies loathed each other with a burning passion, all over a man.

Of course, Daphne and Y/n have not been friends for some time, but they both assumed their roles to be well-kept, keeping a distance and only conversing when need be. But that did not fool Lady Whistledown and now everyone in town knew of their broken alliance, leaving a gaping hole in their family relations. You see, both dynasties held a strong relationship, one of favors and marriage. They were like kin to each other, all relying on their relationship, like kings and queens to neighboring nations, for here in London their is always some sort of war among the tons.

"What did you do!" Damon booms, tossing the paper to the floor in a rage.

"Nothing, I swear it, papa. It's blaspheme, lies. Lady whis-"

"Lady Whistledown, is never wrong, child. In this situation, you best hope she is." Damon marches off, rage fuming from his ears.

A long silence fills the air, one thick and angry. Edger, her eldest brother hunches over, squeezing the bridge of his nose, frowning deeply, breathing harshly, clearly angry. Y/n tries to speak, feeling the need to smooth the tension over but nothing comes.

"Don't speak, your words will only upset me," He sighs sharply, legs crossed, trying to calm himself. "I don't want to know what happened but only, how are you going to mend your friendship with Miss Bridgerton." He's staring at her now, eyes calm, body still tense

"What am I going to do? It is but a rumor, Daphne and I are, thick as thieves." She nods, setting herself up with haste, leaving him alone before she suffocates herself on the tension.

What was she to do, indeed? Y/n, had not a clue. Her heart was not yet ready to be fixed, let alone face the girl who had shattered it with her lies. She was done with her but it seems the ton is not.

If she is to face Daphne Birdgerton again, she will have the truth.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Daphne paces the room, sure to burn a hole through the carpet, waiting on Y/n, if she shows up of course. Surely she would, surely she is to care about the reputation of here family. But as the time drew to midnight, the ball soon to end, Daphne began to slowly lose hope.

"My apologies gentlemen, but my dance card is full. Better luck, next event, yes?" Y/n slides past the double doors, closing them with a shaky breath, turning the lock as she enters.

"Where have you been?" Said Daphne, her tone strained and irritated.

Y/n does not answer, pouring herself a glass of bubbles, no doubt a method to pull it together. "My feet do hurt." She flops on the cushioned sofa, past Daphne, near the fire, slipping her feet wear off, tucking her them under herself, getting comfortable.

The library of the host wasn't as large as the Baudelaire Mansion, but it were a library and a private place, certain to keep unwanted eyes and ears away.

"Sit, I do prefer our conversation to be comfortable." She says, lazily waving Daphne over, ignoring her exasperated groan as she sits on the other end of the sofa.

She could see in the corner of her eye, Daphne pouting, legs crossed with her dainty arms folded over her chest. If the circumstances were different, Y/n would tease and even draw a laugh, but they were no longer friends, so the thought of making fun and jokes were nothing but a past-time, forgotten and never to be forged again. Anyways, she's exhausted, feet aching, Y/n was in no mood for banter or going through memory-lane, as if they could.

"Why were you late." Daphne turns to her, stern and still sulking. Y/n laughs, sipping her drink, effortlessly turning her head, staring at her, as if she were a child. "I am to marry before the end of the season, can't do that if no man asks for my hand." She explains, rather plainly as if she were bored.

A sharp pang jabs Daphne's chest. She knew Y/n would stop at nothing, until she had found a Suitor and wed. It's the goal of every young lady present at the party, except hers. Daphne wanted to make her dynasty proud and wed out of love, but she could not do that, if the one she loved stared back at her, wanting not a woman but a man. Oh, how she wished, she were a man, not a woman. Perhaps, she could wed Y/n, run to the countryside and build a family together. But the longer she stares at her, the more doubt she felt, for the eyes that looked at her were filled with bitter anger and unforgiveness.

"I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways."

Daphne could still recall the pain in her eyes, her smile erased in a few simple words, their long lasting friendship gone in a few moments. Guilt still loomed over her, like a shadow. But she couldn't pretend anymore, her heart became far too great for her to handle, Daphne could not trust herself to be alone with her, afraid she might flip and do something she'll regret. It had to be done, even if the eyes she once found comfort in hated her, wishing her dead.

If only things were different.

Y/n waves a hand in her face. "Hello, did you not hear a single word I said?" Her tone harsh, expression tight and clearly annoyed.

"Yes, of course!"

Y/n laughs humorlessly, visibly unconvinced. "You were spacing out again." She scoffs, setting the empty glass on the small wooden coffee table.

"You always do that! Especially when under hot water! Do you not car-"

Daphne zones out, losing herself in Y/n's visible rage. She were the only woman who could make anger look effortlessly beautiful, even if her words stung, which most of the time they did. But she cared not, for she knew Y/n did not mean what she said, only saying what comes to her mind when overwhelmed with fits of anger. She couldn't help the grin curving her lips, she's been starved of her company for too long, she had missed her yelling, her anger, her imperfections, that made her so perfect. She has missed every part of her, even her most messyest parts.

"What are you grinning at?" Said Y/n, frowning deeply, her tongue laced in poison, readying to kill.

"Nothing," Daphne snorts, clapping a hand over her lips, as if it could stop her uncontrollable chuckles. "Truly, nothing. My apologies, continue."

Y/n stood, furious and exhausted. "If this is how you defend your reputation— my reputation, you can kindly sod off!"

She picked up her skirts, making a b line for the exit. "Wait! You can't walk out there looking like that!" Daphne shields the only way out, blocking Y/n's path, trying her best not to buckle under glare.

"Looking like what."

Daphne swallows thickly, afraid of the wild fire before her: beautiful, stunning, luring, but dangerous and even deadly.

"You look displeased, angry, mad, furious... may I say, beautifully deadly." Daphne squeezes her eyes shut, waiting for another applause of sharpened words, but they never came.

Silence fell, like rain, cooling and even putting out the angry fire. Opening her eyes, she watches Y/n pour herself another drink, this time offering her a glass, eyes soft and gentle.

So that is all it took to calm her. Complements and sweetened words, is all that was needed to extinguish the flame. If only Daphne knew sooner, she could have saved her plenty of burns. Taking their places back on the sofa, Y/n slipping her slippers off once again, finding a comfortable position, they sat awkwardly, no words spoken.

"What I said before was, acting, pretending. We are already doing that, but we have to be closer, and spend a lot more time in public. Form a believable ruse." Y/n went on to explain, shifting in her spot, attention glued to Daphne.

Ruse.

The word made Daphne's stomach stir, making her sick. She did not want to pretend, did not want to act. She wanted her company to be raw, genuine. But she's fairly aware of her shortcomings, she just hoped that she could keep her wandering heart under control. There were many things Daphne wished for, but she will never wish for the falling of another's dynasty because she simply couldn't keep it together.

"Deal?"

"Deal." They shook hands in agreement, unknowingly dooming themselves in an unbreakable contract.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The spring sun bloomed a great deal of heat and light, the park bustling with noise of joy, celebrating the thaw, signifying the beginning of warmer weather in the ton. Y/n kept safe under the provided shade of her family camp, fanning herself and sipping pink lemonade, doing her best to keep up chatter with another possible Suitor, completely ignoring the second party drawing near her family tent.

"Well, good afternoon Miss Daphne! It has been much time since we last had your company over for tea." Edger curtsied, offering her a chair beside Y/n.

"It has, hasn't it? I have been preoccupied with far too difficult things, I'm sure you'll understand." She grins in thanks, taking a glass of pink lemonade.

"Yes, of course. I'm sure Mr Deluca would be happy to join me and the other gentlemen, elsewhere." He looks between Daphne and Y/n, sending him a silent message.

He nods, leaving a kiss to Y/n's gloved knuckles, curtsying, acknowledging both women in farewell.

Y/n flutters her lashes, grinning as Stephen takes his leave, his gaze still glued to the young lady, incapable of tearing it away, fumbling behind Edger. Once out of view, she turns her attention to Daphne, finding a rather nasty scowl.

"Fix your face, it appears to me that you have sucked a sour lemon." Y/n shifts in her seat, trying to get comfortable, watching her younger brothers: Harwin and Hamish, fly their kites with Hyacinth and Gregory, Daphne's youngest siblings.

She gasps, insulted, hitting Y/n in the shoulder with her fan. "I do not!"

Y/n winches with irritation, hitting Daphne back, acting like children. "Don't hit me, you sour lemon." She chuckles, dodging her attackers next move with a swift stance, ready to run. Without a second thought, she pokes her harshly in the thigh with her fan, making a run for it when Daphne decides to stand, surly for revenge, starting a chase.

Ladies should not run but in this case, Y/n saw it rather fitting to make chase from the woman hot on her tail, she sure were fast for someone rather slow. With the possibility of being physically harmed she couldn't help but laugh, a smile permanently stuck to her face, swiftly sliding past Daphne as she drove forward, fan in hand. Y/n gave a gentle tap with her fan to her behind, watching Daphne gasp, grinning as she shook her head, recollecting herself before continuing with the chase.

"You're going to regret that, Y/n."

With a squeal Y/n ran, dodging and weaving past young and old, even through the Bridgerton tent. "Sorry!" She yells, passing Violet, using her as a shield from her attacker.

"Using my mama, is rather cowardice, don't you think?" Daphne pants, trying to find a way past Violet who stood with a smile, finally happy to see her daughter and dearest friend frolic.

"Not at all, I'm sure your mama is enjoying herself. Aren't you ma'am?"

Violet rolls her eyes, stiff as a board. "Oh, Y/n what's that!" Daphne stills, pointing at something past Y/n's gaze, distracting her.

With her distraction she catches her, holding her in her arms, making it impossible for Y/n to escape. "Cheat!" She cries, laughing and without thinking, embraces Daphne, panting and grinning.

The two held each other, completely out of breath and out of hatred. The Bridgerton and Baudelaire girls back together again, even though it were a false friendship.

"Y/n would you join us for a glass of peach tea and perhaps chat about the season, so far? I see plenty of Suitors have swept to your feet." Violet offered a glass, acknowledging her state of jovial exhaustion.

"Yes, of course, Violet! I do adore your peach tea, I find it the most refreshing." She beams, taking the glass with Daphne's hand intertwined with her own.

Even with the presence of the spring heat, they chat for hours, drawing laughs, terrible jokes and even worse memories. "No, he didn't!" Daphne gasped, squeezing her hand.

"Oh, yes! Violet saw and had to step in. If she didn't I would have smacked him senseless." Y/n explained, high on story telling, completely oblivious or unbothered to her head resting on her shoulder, chuckling at the sudden throw back.

"Oh, yes... He was rather, rude and arrogant. His mother needs to teach him better manners." Violet gave a disapproving shake, sipping her peach tea, the pitcher almost empty.

"The worst part is, the young gentlemen came back! The nerve... And with his mother, no less." Violet tsk's, rolling her eyes.

"His mother!" Daphne chokes on her peach tea.

"Yes! A nasty blob of a woman."

"Mother!" Daphne scolds, Y/n laughing harder than intended.

"Your mother can be quite the... Bear." Y/n mutters, laying her empty glass down on the small white table, holding a silver tray.

"What? Would you have preferred that I do nothing? That witch bore an ugly heart of a boy, with a face of a donkey." She shrugged, pouring her guess another glass.

Y/n whizzed a laugh, Daphne slapping her on the arm, clearly not wanting her to encourage her mothers antics.

"Don't encourage her, she'll never stop." Daphne warns with a playful grins. "My apologies. Violet, next time go for the eyes before the crutch."

Violet chuckled with a wink, Daphne nudging Y/n.

At this time tents were slowly being stored away and the sun began to draw behind the clouds, dipping away for the night. With that, Y/n's lady Maid, Daisy strolled over, fetching the young lady.

"We are to leave in five, Edger wishes everyone to make haste to the carriage." She informs her, bobbing a curtsy, leaving faster than she came.

"Right, well the tea has been splendid, thank you Violet," She stands, sweeping her dress clean, bowing in farewell and thanks. "I do wish to spend another day like this, perhaps sooner than later."

"Oh, the thanks is all mine, you truly are missed. Our door is always open to you, if you ever need an escape from your brothers, but I can't promise much relief." She returns her bow, hugging her farewell.

"I'll walk you back." Daphne offers, high on a day filled with someone she missed, even with the sense of a ruse

She took her arm, moving rather slowly, not wanting to let her other half go, just yet.

"Stephen seems smitten with you, like all of your Suitors. He'll make an excellent husband and a great father, if you wed of course. You are to be wed?" Daphne asks, her tone and expression worried, searching for Y/n's gaze.

For a moment, her eyes pooled with fear, something Daphne thought she would never witness, for Y/n was always knowing, always confident and strong. Did she not wish to be wed?

Patting Daphne's arm, Y/n stops, looping her arm free, clearing her throat, her smile genuine to the eyes of a fool but Daphne is no fool, she sees right through her, like one sees through glass. Her smile seemed strained, pained, worried and hurt.

"I do thank you for today, it truly was a treat but I best go now and with haste, don't want to keep Edger waiting, you dare keep him waiting and he's all on you with claws. Hopefully Lady Whistledown buys our little ruse and our families reputation... Will be mended," She pauses, rolling her thumbs over Daphne's gloved hands, comforting and reassuring.

"I am sure you want me gone as much as Eloise, wishes to rid the world of men."

No, I do not want you gone, I want you near, close, incapable of leaving... I want you, as one wants oxygen.

But Daphne could not say that, not to anyone. To harbor affection for a fellow woman is forbidden, wrong, worse compared to her current situation. If Daphne were to bring speech to her hidden affirmation, she could be ruined─ her entire dynasty will be ruined, all because she couldn't stop her stubborn heart for loving this woman, who loathed her most. Would she hate her more, if she were to be honest? Would she kill her or out her if she were to give voice for her love?

Daphne wanted to scream, shout, yell and cry until her throat ran dry. She needs Y/n, like oxygen... Like a bed of roses that craves for water. But she couldn't have her, not in this life... Not in any.

Parting, broke Daphne, as if a weight had landed on her chest, crushing her heart.

"With haste, Daphne!" Eloise calls, her voice booming over the chatter of the bustling park, scaring a flock of birds, that took flight, frightened by the sudden noise, flapping and gobbling their own sounds.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Daphne is not the only person who eyed Y/n, as if she were the main course of the dinner party──"She's beautiful." Said Benedict, sipping his cocktail, eyeing the girl he's been trying to court for the entire season.

Of course, she were beautiful, it's Y/n, beauty came naturally to her and so did Suitors. She had not yet made it to the floor when a swarm of men crowded her, offering her a dance, a drink, a hand and even food. "Of course, she's beautiful, Benedict, only a fool will think otherwise." Said Daphne, gritting her teeth at her brother and the other men swooning for someone she wish were her's.

Y/n, wore her award winning smile, promising a dance to the first few boys, who pooled to her pink jeweled feet. Tonight she bared a rose quartz color dress, her neck donned with a matching gem necklace. Her hair flowed in ringlets, decoder with pink jeweled flowers, drawing back half her mane in a lovely back crown. Her ears, clipped with pink diamonds, rolling out a theme with her outfit. She stuck out.

Half way through the night Daphne had danced, performing that best she could, her gaze constantly shifting to the girl in pink, chatting to a ring off men, containing of lords, viscounts, dukes and even a prince.

She's growing tired at watching them frolic around her, making her laugh, gritting her teeth to dust. If she were a man, she would have courted Lady Y/n, long ago, asking for her hand with the most expensive flowers, gems, jewels and food─she loves her food, the best way to Y/n's heart is always food. Daphne is sure, that if Y/n had a choice between a husband and an infinite supply of her favorite foods, this season would have been short lived, less then a second spent on finding a husband, she'll be with a food child, living her best life.

By the expression on Y/n's face, she is growing exhausted, tired of these men, ready for sleep and perhaps a hearty meal. But the night was not over and the room is becoming far too warm. Fanning herself, Y/n excuses herself, gliding past men and women, young and old, shifting through until she were out, venturing to the fountain, relieved to finally have silence.

"I didn't expect you to leave such handsome men behind. Many looked rather wounded at your departure, I'm sure you shattered a few hearts." The sound of Daphne's voice makes Y/n jump, hand slamming against her chest in fright.

Calming herself, Y/n breaths an exhausted laugh, fanning herself still. She did not expect company, especially not Daphnes.

"Excuse my behavior but you gave me a fright. I was not anticipating your presence, not after Lady Whisledown's latest update." Said Y/n, scooting over, allowing Daphne to sit with her in the lip of the fountain.

"Uh, yes Lady Whistledown's paper, she seems rather impressed with our ruse, she even called us 'two peas in a pod'." The two shared a short laugh, consumed by awkward silence and embarrassing sniffs.

Lady Whistledown seemed pleased with their act, that she published two columns regarding their false friendship, speaking great praise for their public fondness. Thinking their friendship to be mended, fixed and thriving. So, why spend another minute in the same environment, pretending to enjoy their company.

Clearing her throat, Y/n turned her attention to Daphne. "Do you need something?" Her eyes wander, bottom lip stuck between her teeth, waiting for an answer.

Daphne paused, thinking for the best excuse possible. "No, I just wanted to see you... Perhaps offer a stroll around the gardens."

"I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways."

Y/n scoffs, lowering her gaze to the gravel floor, an irritated grin, spreading across her face. "What are you doing?" She questions, her tone angry and steady, fire blooming under her gaze.

What is Daphne doing, indeed?

She had made it abundantly clear, their friendship meant nothing to her, that she wanted no part with Y/n at all. So, what were she doing, indeed?

Daphne swallowed thickly, guilt pooling in her stomach, knowing what she meant. She could be honest and risk her friendship a second time, or lie, and simply never see Y/n's face again.

"Don't say you don't know what I speak, because you do." Said Y/n, leveling her eyes with Daphne's, killing the slightest light in her eyes. "Must I recall what you said to me... What you never want me to forget. I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways." Her tone, sharp and mean.

"You lied to me, to yourself. You never thought it best for us to go our separate ways. If you did, you would not be here, you would be happy with Lady Whistledowns latest publish, leaving me be... Like nothing had changed."

Y/n spoke with confidence, anger, bitterness and unforgiveness. But behind her words, something sad, hurt and betrayed lived there. Something Daphne did not miss, hurting herself in the process, shifting her gaze to her hands, wanting to disappear, hating herself for allowing her heart to fall so far.

"Why did you lie?" The crack in her voice, sounded false, fictional, but one glance in her eyes, Daphne was sure her heart shattered. She had missed Daphne, wanting to let her go as quickly as she had come. Heal quickly and move on. But her heart wouldn't allow it, wouldn't allow her to patch and sew herself back up again, until she had the truth.

Daphne's throat ran dry, she didn't know where to start, or even say anything, but her chest ached, she had to tell her. Sucking in a breath, Daphne steadied herself, bracing the threshold.

"I didn't want to let you go. I wanted to keep you, to steal you, to force you to stay and never leave my side... Not even for a man, for a Suitor, or for a husband." Daphne shook her head, laughing at herself. "Frankly, I wish I were a man, for a far different reason than Eloise. I wish I were born with a penis, because my affection for you... They're abnormal, wrong, forbidden... Strangling me, starving me of oxygen." Daphne sniffles, tears clogging her speech, her smile strained and tight.

"I wish to have you as a Suitor wishes to court you. Y/n I never wanted to go our separate ways, but what were I to do! You wish to wed a fine man, but I am a woman... You hate me, you don't feel the slightest affection for me... You'll love, and I'll die." She cries into her palm, body shaking, nose sniffling.

Y/n's mouth fell open, gaping, soundless. She did not expect her own friend to spill her heart out to her, to love her as a husband loved his wife. Y/n was speechless.

"You wish to be a man, for me?" Y/n leans forward, freeing Daphne's hands from her face, staring into her puffy eyes, searching for truth.

Daphne quivers. "Disgusting, for a woman to wish to be a man, so she could be free to love the woman her heart longs for." She chokes, leaning into Y/n's shoulder, her hand guiding her head, cuddling her closer.

Y/n grins, stroking Daphne's hair.

"You say disgusting, I say romantic." She giggles, rolling her thumb over Daphne's arm.

Daphne tilts her head up, gazing up at Y/n, clearly confused.

"What?" Her question barely, audible.

"If you wish to be a man for my heart, why not have it?" Y/n held her chin between her fingers, gently kissing her, sealing her vow.

"You do wish to have my heart?" She asks once a part, allowing Daphne to process the moment.

"Yes! A thousand times yes!" Daphne smiles, snatching another kiss, holding Y/n so very close, their chests embrace each other.

[redroses07]

when the show/movie has a cast that’s so fine you don’t know who to read a fic about 😞

[elpsice]

The Bridgerton girls falling in love with a girl

Warnings: canon-universe homophobia, slight NSFW (no smut)

~Headcanons~

Daphne

Clueless

You two probably become friends in her first season

You support her when she starts losing suitors and when Lady Whistledown starts roasting her

You two get really close, she tells you everything that was going on with Simon

She talks A LOT around you, also giggles and then you hear her real laugh, she gets really embarrassed but you just joke around and then compliment it, and she gets this warm feeling

She goes to sleep with a smile on her face just from the thought of getting to talk to you the next day

In one of your many hang outs you, you two are having a great time and she just stares at you

Cut to a slow motion scene with shots of your eyes, lips, body and she just staring

This is where she panics

She starts to clock that her feelings are not platonic, and that she is desiring you in a way that she doesn't really understand (she doesn't know what sex is, much less that this can happen between two girls)

You two would probably have that moment in which you stare at eachother, slowly get close and then kiss

Eloise

Just like Eloise, friendship is the way through the bridgerton's hearts

You two would talk about books and share your knowledge

She would drag you to that town where she met Theo, so you can go together to that talk about women's rights

Even if you two are childhood friends or met in her first season, you two would still take a long time to figure out your feelings, because Eloise would just call what she feels towards you "a strong friendship"

She's the type that would say "I wish you were a guy so I can just marry you"

Two ways that I think she could realise her feelings is that everytime she reads she imagines the main couple as you two because "It would be more fun that way" or she gets the inspiration to start writing and when she writes about you is straight up poetry about how good she feels around you

She gifts you a book where in between the pages are poems she wrote about you

Having her Emily Dickinson moment

You would go to a ball and hide in a hallway where you can still hear the music and dance together, in a not very elegant way, (one of her heels breaks and has Violet like this🤨)

Francesca

Probably the fastest of the Bridgertons to realise how she feels

You would talk to her when she's outside at one of the balls and enjoying the quiet; as soon as you approach her and she notices you is love at first sight

You just have such a charming smile, it had her hooked

Would compose piano songs thinking about you and would take you to her house so she can play them to you

Will stare at you with puppy eyes

Gets shy with you but it's somehow also very blunt

She's also the most likely to just be honest with her feelings and tell you directly

She knows that a love like this is tabú and you two would keep it a secret until you figure out what to do (Benedict would probably sense something if he sees you together)

[chaxan08]

For those who are more visual, I’ve attached a chart that concisely summarizes the explanation from my previous post about 'British Titles'.

If you prefer to read the full post, here is the link: https://www.tumblr.com/chaxan08/755142365443981312/british-titles?source=share

[blakeswritingimagines]

Your Relationship Trope

Anthony: Enemies to friends to lovers, Forced to be together, Grumpy x sunshine, College relationship.

Benedict: Soul mates, Secret relationship, Forced proximity, Love at first sight, Secret admirers.

Colin: Childhood friends, Best friends siblings, Rivals, Opposites.

Daphne: Friends to lovers, Mutual pining, Love triangle, Forced together due to a storm/storming weather.

Eloise: Friends to lovers, Marriage of convenience, Unrequited love, Bickering all the time.

Penelope: Forbidden love, Forced to work together, star-crossed lovers, Second chance romance.

Simon: Enemies to lovers, Possessive lover x nonchalant lover, Bad one x Good one, Power imbalance.

[infiniteimaginings]

「𝘉𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘰𝘯」

Started: February 17th, 2024 Updated: February 17th, 2024

Characters I write for in the show 'Bridgerton'

Anthony Bridgerton Benedict Bridgerton Colin Bridgerton Daphne Bridgerton Edwina Sharma Eloise Bridgerton Kate Sharma King George III Penelope Featherington Prince Friedrich Simon Basset Violet Bridgerton Queen Charlotte

[bridgertonswhore]

Something Borrowed, Someone Blue

Daphne Bridgerton x Reader

Trigger Warnings: heartbreak, angst

Word Count: 1,067

Synopsis: Reader attends Daphne Bridgerton's wedding despite the fact that they were once romantically involved.

Requests are open.

There was a strong sense of yearning settling in (Y/n)'s chest as she stood alongside Eloise Bridgerton. She had accompanied the Bridgertons as Daphne's special guess. The term, special guest, only taunting her as she blinked away stubborn tears threatening to spill. She had been at Daphne's side for years as her best friend and confidant, but months prior to this moment, they had become something more than that. An ache caused a strange tightening at her chest when Daphne made her way down the aisle looking as radiant as ever. She and Simon fit perfectly, both two distinctions of grace. (Y/n) knew that unfortunate reality was that they would make a gorgeous couple. That they do make a gorgeous couple.

A hand gently clasped onto hers and her breath made an instinctive hitch. Her eyes fell down to the hand that had found a home in hers. Eloise. The brunette gave a soft nod and (Y/n) found herself reciprocating it. Her attention then found its way back to Daphne and Simon as the priest spoke to them. However, there was no sound reaching her ears, just a long and low buzzing. She swallowed thickly before wetting her chapped lips with her tongue.

Every wedding had something old, something new, something borrowed, something new. (Y/n) was wracking her mind, eyes flittering across the room as she wondered what Daphne had that were all of those things. Then, as she stood there, with an aching heart, she realized that they were all her. That she something old. She was Daphne's oldest friend. They always had a deep connection since primary school. But they became something new, though now tarnished and thrown out. Their old friendship had developed into something that (Y/n) once claimed to be the most beautiful experience that she had ever been apart of.

It is even more unfortunate that it was her heart that was borrowed. Daphne had taken her heart with her delicate fingers, protecting it for their short time as something new. Those delicate fingers that not only held her heart, but her cheeks as they kissed in the gardens, hidden away from the rest of the world. They didn't have to be exposed to the ton. It was just her and Daphne, alone as their lips connected alongside their souls. Only, Daphne slipped from her hold that once consumed her thoughts, and returned the heart that she had not taken. Instead of keeping that heart safe and sound, she claimed it to be borrowed, reusable, not worth keeping for herself anymore.

Now, that leaves something blue. Or, in the case of (Y/n)… someone blue. The anguish she felt over this marriage was practically unbearable, but (Y/n) found herself pretending to be fine. That's all she could do as she watched them kiss, now united by not only their vows, but under the eyes of the church and the Queen. (Y/n) felt her bottom lip tremble as she willed herself to keep it together. She couldn't cry at a wedding such as this one. For someone who was only a friend. The only acceptable amount of emotion she could show in that moment was allowing for her eyes to grow misty under the lights emitting into the church through the glow of windows and stained glass.

As Daphne and Simon kissed, (Y/n) wondered if there was anything ever actually between them. Maybe it was all just a rouse to pass the time. Just something to keep Daphne from being bored as she awaited for her season to come about. The dull aching grew at the thought as clapping brought her out of her somber state of mind. She felt her hand leave Eloise's as their hands gently applauded the new couple. Both of their eyes were brimmed red and their noses burning with the same color. Though, perhaps Eloise was crying for a completely different reason. Though, they were both losing Daphne in their own ways.

There was a strong parting her wishing she could reach out to Daphne, pull her out of the chapel and they could run all the way back to the garden. Like they used to do. But seeing that smile on Daphne's face caused a watery smile to appear on (Y/n)'s. She watched as the two left the chapel, and she could feel herself gripping the pew in front of her. Eloise turned to (Y/n), a smile on her face. Though it fell slightly when she watched the girl's eyes follow Daphne's exit.

"Are you coming to the reception tonight?" Eloise questioned, causing (Y/n)'s eyes to flicker onto hers. She blinked, her brows furrowing in a silent question, needing Eloise to repeat herself. The brunette cleared her throat as she glanced at her shoes for a moment. Then, her eyes returned to (Y/n)'s. "The reception? Are you coming? It'll be the last day we get to spend with Daphne before her honeymoon and her official move to Clyvedon." Eloise finished, trying to be gentle with the information she was giving. It was obvious that whatever was going on in (Y/n)'s mind that it was taking a toll on her and that it also involved Daphne in some way or another.

A sad, ghost of a smile slowly appeared on (Y/n)'s lips before she shook her head. "I do not think that to be wise, Eloise." She said solemnly, causing the brunette's face to fall but she still nodded with a sense of understanding. "I think I shall head home now, and I feel I might begin to figure out where I want and need to be in my life next." She stated before pulling Eloise into a hug. The hug surprised her, but she didn't turn it down. There was a small but final squeeze passed between them before they pulled away. Eloise didn't enjoy the finality of it all, but she understood that this was something (Y/n) needed to do.

Eloise pressed a gentle hand to her shoulder. "I hope all is well for you, (Y/n)." Her voice was soft and kind. (Y/n) smiled at the care she had received from her before the two left the chapel, boarding into two separate carriages. (Y/n)'s head fell back onto the wall of her carriage, tears finally, freely cascading down her cheeks. She hated leaving Daphne so abrupt, but she couldn't be Daphne's something old, new, borrowed, or blue.

[onlybeeewrites]

The Violinist

Pairing: x reader

Requested: no

Warnings: none, maybe light sexism

Part 2

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You had not come from a very prominent family. Not near as well known as any of the families of the Ton. Neither were you on the lesser side of money. Your family had more than enough to be comfortable, yet nowhere near the money that was flaunted by the upper class.

No. Instead you reside in a family of musicians. You, surrounded by your three brothers and your father, all enjoy the thrill of performing. They were hesitant to allow you to join them in their endeavors, but with much reassurance they allowed you to join them. The promise was kept as long as you remained in the back, hidden from others while your music echoed through the rooms. They didn’t entirely agree with you playing. A young woman of twenty and three focusing on music instead of finding a husband. But you loved what you did and that’s all that you cared about.

Your well-known family was one of the bands that would preform at the balls through the ton. Set up to one side of the room long before guests we’re ever to arrive, giving yourselves plenty of time to set up and prepare your instruments. You had played the violin. Rather beautifully in fact. Your brothers and Father played the rest of the instruments, some other violins, a cello, and the viola. Together, you all make the most beautiful music.

You had been almost blessed with such a talent from a young age, taking on the violin at about eight and catching on quickly. you were able to hear music and replicate it almost instantly and it was incredible. You absolutely loved it. Your parents had called you a prodigy of the instrument, your elder brothers amazed at how quickly you were able to pick such things up.

This ball was no different. It was about mid season, and the young ladies and gentlemen of the ton were in full sing of the social season of finding the right partner to court. This evening your family had the pleasure of preforming in Aubrey Hall, home to the Bridgerton family themselves. You had heard all sorts of stories about the family both from the whispers of the ball rooms to the scandalous readings of Lady Whistledown. From the rakes that were the eldest boys, to the Diamond that was Daphne, or the bookworm that was Elouise who had seemed to despise these lavish parties more and more with each year.

These people had intrigued you. You have seen people of all sorts within these parties, but those Bridgertons were the most interesting to you. For a family so wealthy, so well-known, they were so kind. It was not like the Culpers where they would stick up their nose at the nearest person who was beneath them. No, they were strangely kind. Though it all made your job much easier.

It never took too long for you and your family to set up and tune your instruments. The servants and such were all rushing around, getting some final arrangements done before all the guests were to arrive.

You, yourself we’re just finishing up your tubing when a younger female voice spoke up behind you, pulling you from your concentration.

“I remember you playing from a few other balls. Are you usually tucked in the back playing?” The voice spoke, causing you to turn to face one of the middle children of the Bridgerton family. Elouise Bridgerton.

You raised an eyebrow before you lowered your head in a greeting. “Miss Bridgerton,” you started before nodding at her words. “I do. I am Y/N Lyndon. I play often at these balls through the social season with my brothers and my father. Though my only place is in the back but I do not mind,” you say, and this leads even more curiosity from the Bridgerton girl.

“Hm. So you’re hidden in the back just playing. Listening to the room. Perfect for….gossip. Is it not?” Elouise then asked, which caused a confused look to come across your face before you had realized what she was insinuating. This laugh caused Elouise to narrow her eyes, “why are you laughing?” She questioned, “it’s because it is true. Isn’t it?”

You shake your head, recollecting yourself before speaking. “Forgive me, miss. Uh no, it is not true. I do not have the luxury of having so much time to write such gossip in the papers as Lady Whistldown does. I spend my time preforming and practicing and I do not have much time to write such things. Though it was a rather clear idea. A preformed hidden in the back? A rather good suspect,” you say before continuing, “though if I do hear anything of Whsitledown I’ll ensure that you are first to know,” you then reassure the young girl.

Eloise huffed softly as she could have sworn that she was close. But she was relieved that you would be able to help though.

Before she could speak, the eldest of the Bridgertons came up and placed his hands on Elouise’s shoulders, “excuse my sister, miss. She often speaks out of turn. Excuse us,” he said and before Elouise could utter another word he pulled his sister away.

You looked to them a bit in confusion, but assumed he either didn’t want Elouise to distract her before her performances, or maybe the Viscount didn’t want his sister interacting with a worker. Either way she didn’t mind. She lowered her head as Anthony came and went, turning and getting settled in her spot just beside her brother.

“You need to stop bothering people with that Lady Whistledown nonsense,” Anthony said as they approached Benedict and Colin as well. The two were already a few glasses of champagne down.

The two shared a look with each other before glancing to the other two siblings, “who are you bothering now with your hunt for Lady Whistledown?” Colin asked in an exaggerated sigh.

Elouise rolled her eyes, “I am not bothering. Just inquiring. And it was Miss Lyndon. The violinist,” she said, subtly gesturing to you who had just started to warm up amongst your brothers.

This seemed to catch the attention of the brothers as they took in your form. Hair done up simply but elegantly and a dress proper enough for a ball. Though it wasn’t anything extremely elegant or very outlandish. It was simple, but it was intriguing. A rather beautiful young lady playing an instrument instead of dancing.

“Intriguing…” Benedict hummed, obviously intrigued by a fellow artist. He was always drawn to such people with such creativeness. Then again, Colin was as well.

The brothers made a note to keep an eye on this certain violinist, hopefully they would see her preforming once more.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Bridgerton masterlist

Requests are currently open!

Key:

Fluff: ♡ Angst: ♤ Smut: ♧ Headcanons: ◇ May contain triggering content: ☆

~

Anthony Bridgerton

Unchaperoned ♧

~

[starriislxt]

"we will all need to find love one day." ღ daphne basset.

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— all rights reserved © STARRIISLXT 2024. all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend on tiktok any of the works seen here.

[allthornsnopetals]

You are a Fool E.Bridergton

Description: "I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you." Oh, how the times have changed since, Y/n last exchanged words with Eloise. Perhaps, now Eloise wished to kiss the young lady as Suitors sweep the beauty off her feet.

Warning: 18+ content

Y/n rolls her eyes at the sight of her family home, wishing to be back in Paris, sipping wine and indulging in their fruity society. But she had been summoned home after years receiving education in the city of love, and flamboyance. The season is soon to begin and she were to be wed, and soon, God help the man to court Lady Delacour, and her spicy tastes may.

She grimaced, entering the familiar abode, shouldering off her cloak, and handing it to the servant.

"Y/n, how it is good to finally see you again. I see a young Lady had blossomed, let me get a better look at you." Said Edger, Y/n's eldest brother and heir to the Delacour dynasty, his arms stretched out, waiting for them to be filled.

Y/n grinned, gliding with haste to fill her brother's arms. "It is good to finally have you home!" Another familiar voice, male, called, joining the embrace.

"Hello to you, too, Evon." She chuckles, fighting for air as another and another joins the already crowded hug.

"Hamish, you're poking me." Harwin growls, jabbing his twin brother in the rib.

Due to their fighting, the elder siblings broke a part, all but one watching with amusement. "Stop it! Or I'll knock the sense out of you both, no questions asked!" Edger scolds, pointing his finger in their faces, hunched over like he were their mother.

The boys were two years younger compared to Y/n, but they had grown into young men, taller, too. But still, they beaker, unable to control themselves, even now, seconds after she had returned home. Some things just do not change.

Y/n is the second youngest with two elder brothers and two younger ones, all without a sister for almost eleven years, until now as the season of the debutantes begins, calling for the remaining Lady to be courted. She were not the only woman, for a while, that is. Her mother had kept their family in company for most of Y/n's youth, that was until her passing: childbirth, a scary and terrifying way to die, but it took her final breaths and the opportunity for another sister.

Her passing had driven her family into the dark days, she called it. The days of morning, that drew into months and almost a year before her father had sent her away, unable to bear the face that held his late-wife. Sent away for ten years, until she were eligible for marriage. Any remaining rough edges, had been smoothed over, replaced with rounder, softer and smoother ones, instead.

She were a wild one, even before the passing of her mother. Being sent away surely did her some good, if it also didn't make her miss the french and their stunning cities. Men and women were open about their desires, and encouraged others to indulge in the simplest lust or flame, man or woman, thin or thick, white or black. France is the place of love in different fonts and shapes, Y/n took it a little too literally, with her eyes wandering over from men to women, from women to men.

White, black, she ate. Heavy or light, she ate. Men or women, she ate! French men had a talent of mouth and hands, they preferred head or a work of a gentle hand, oh and how they were talented, or obsessed with ass. The men Y/n spread her wings for, always went for head, fingers, or anal, which she finds divine. The women... Oh Y/n doesn't know where to begin, they were skilled with finding the pleasure of their sexual partner, and always aroused some unknown kink.

But now, she were home and a dinner party is to be held in her return, all close to her family is to attend, and Y/n is to get ready.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Not, too tight, is it?" Asked Daisy, your hand maiden, tightening Y/n's corset. She made a small attempt to smile.

"Is my waist, not slim enough?" She asks instead of replying to her question. Daisy simply nods, loosening the reins of the fabric.

A shaky breath of short relief slips past her lips, her eyes closing with a hand smoothing over her stomach, glad the presser had subsided. Y/n had never been one for corsets, always finding them ridiculous, like a certain someone, whom her cheeks still burn for: Eloise Bridergtion, the first person to ever reject a simple peck to the cheek.

"I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you."

She grinned at the last and final memory she shared with her, so young and sure both girls and boys had cooties. Eloise allowed no one, not even her own papa to kiss her cheek or hold her hand. She was so paranoid, she wore gloves to prevent some sort of plague, she were sure it was real.

"Emerald green or sapphire blue." Daisy said, allowing Y/n to peer inside the two containers.

She wondered for some time, biting her lip as she thought. "I have jewels that would look fabulous with the blue gown," She says, gliding her fingers over the fabric. "Sapphire blue, please."

After a few moments, she was ready. Her hair flowed freely, decorated with blue flowers as a half crown. A wide diamond necklace, rounder her neck with pearl sized sapphires clipped to her ears. Daisy worked at staining her lips a shade of cherry wine before tinting her cheeks with peach blush. Lastly her slippers slipped on her feet with a dab of floral perfume on her neck, wrists and jaw.

"Your thoughts, ma'am." Said Daisy, allowing Y/n to admire her work in the vanity mirror.

"Wonderful as always. Come for me when the party begins."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Stop fiddling, you look like a fool." Violet hissed, forcing Eloise to stand up straight and still, for the most part.

"She is nervous, mama. She hasn't seen Y/n for many years, afraid she might not recognize her." Said Daphne, sipping her sparkly liquid, sure to be alcohol.

Eloise stuck her tongue out, not even trying to hide her immature behavior. "Am not. I am perfectly well, just a bit sweaty that is." She jeered, chugging a glass of liquid courage.

Of course she were nervous, jumping on the balls of her feet with anxiety. She has not seen her dear friend, Y/n for ten years, and still she wished to have allowed her to peck her cheek, goodbye. Perhaps, then she would have had a fond memory and not one filled with tears, and anger. Eloise was more than angry to see her leave, and even depressed at not snagging herself a kiss, even if it were an innocent peck on the cheek. She would have cherished it, like her books. She thought of her everyday, staring out the window, hoping to see Y/n walk to steps to her door, but that hope was just that: hope. She thought herself foolish for some time, that was until the invention to the Delacour Mansion arrived, speaking of a welcome home ball for the only daughter, Y/n Eliza Delacour.

Eloise near fainted. She were to see her friend again! To hear her voice again! To finally fill the duo to a trio, once more: her, Pen and Y/n. The golden girls back together again.

But even with such electricity, it were hard on Eloise to not pick up her skirts and run for the hills, and dunk her head in a bucket of cold ice water. For her thoughts have always been far from platonic for Lady Y/n, a girl she wished to have shared a kiss with before her departure, regretting her poorly chosen words.

"I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you."

Eloise still remembered the hot tears streaming down her cheeks, as if it were yesterday, the guilt still so fresh. She was sure she had lost a friend.

"Well, she's right there. If you are so clear minded, go say hello to her." Daphne stepped aside, allowing Eloise to a route to Y/n.

"Righty then, I will." She huffed, sticking up her nose, and marching off.

Oh what the fuck! She thought gliding her way towards Y/n, dodging bodies and frantic house guests, all bubbling with the return of the sapphire of House Delacour.

As she drew closer, the more frightened Eloise became, terror eating at her. Completely ignore Hyacinth, thundering towards her with Gregory hot on her toes. It was far too late, she was already pooling forward, her arms outstretched, lips releasing a gasp.

But the impact to the hard cool floor did not come, she lay comfortably in a set of arms, holding her steadily, combing back runaway hair. "El?" Her stomach churned, the voice so familiar her stomach had a wakened.

Eloise's throat ran dry and tight, her eyes meeting the gaze of her old friend, her cheeks burning with an embarrassed grin, curving her lips. Y/n steered a sound of surprise and excitement, pulling her into her arms.

"It is you! Thank goodness! I almost didn't recognize you. I missed you and Pen. Talking about Pen, where is she?" Y/n mutters, her breath fanning Eloise's ear.

Eloise swallows hard.

I almost didn't recognize you.

Perhaps, she did fear that Y/n would be unable to identify her, thinking she had forgotten the way she looked. But that fear slowly faded as she sank into her arms, taking in her scent with a sharp breath: Oranges, lemons and pomegranates. Oh, how she missed her. She held onto for a moment longer, until the thought of Penelope whisked her mind.

Pulling a part, Eloise avoided Y/n's gaze. As if she knew something were wrong Y/n guided both her and Eloise to the library, where no one was allowed in, making sure to shut the door behind them.

"Ellie, what happened when I was away? Why is Pen not by your side?" Once the words were out, she felt a fool for asking such things.

"There was a falling out." Said Y/n, now knowing why the two peas were not together.

Eloise bit back a tear, nodding in clarification. Y/n sighed, taking her place in her arms, stroking her hair, pulling out built up tears that welled up inside her. No golden girls, after all.

She wept, holding her so tightly, it could break Y/n ribs.

"Tell me what happened." Y/n sat them both down at the cushioned love seat near the back, hidden from anyone who were to burst in.

Eloise sniffled, her hand held into hers, a smile gracing her lips. "You were always the nurse, always caring about us before yourself. Always patching us up with gentle hands and warm arms, never taking a moment peace for yourself." She laughs wetly, wiping her tears with the back of her gloved hand.

Y/n tsk's, swatting her hand from her face, wanting her not to ruin her make up, wiping her salty river away with her finger tips, their gaze finding one another. "Don't, you'll ruin your gloves." She pulls the fabric from Eloise's hands, placing them on the small coffee table, rolling her thumb over her open palm, an old habit, too good for her to ridden.

Eloise shook her head. "No, just tell me everything about Paris and your travels. I want to know. You must have had the best time." She forced a smile, squeezing Y/n's hands, wanting to change the subject.

"Only if you inform me of what happened." Her tone was cool, almost demanding, Eloise didn't recognize the woman in front of her. Couldn't decipher who she was, yes she looked the same—almost, if it weren't for the sudden bloom of her breasts—and even acted the same, with habits she still lingered with and nature she has long but permanently made one with herself. But she were all grown up now, mature and knowing, bold and daring with her tone, her chin held high, eyes leveled and commanding.

Her heart gave a giddy squeeze, if she were to stare at her any longer, Eloise would spill all her secrets. But not tonight, only for tonight she were to explain the happenings between her and Penelope.

She began with her interest in the unmasking of Lady Whistledown, from there everything progressively got worse and impossibly worse, that Y/n had rang for tea, biscuits and all sorts of sweets, sucked away from her own ball, too invested of what she were hearing. Eloise paused, gulping as if she were nervous for the following words.

"If I don't unmask this anonymous author, everyone in town would know... They'll know that I'm," She chokes, head buried in Y/n's lap, soothed by her elegant lull, her fingers combing through her hair. "Say, no more. Pen thinks it unwise to identify, Lady Whistledown. And she won't help it's sim-

"No! I know she is Lady Whistledown— I feel it in my bones and she will ruin me if everyone knew," She lashes out of her lap, tears streaming down her face. "Knew what?" Y/n coaxes her back into her, wiping her tears away, staring down at her.

Eloise sniffles, choking, blowing her nose in a handkerchief. "If everyone knew I were lesbian. Y/n it will ruin my family, greatly."

Silence followed, Y/n frozen, staring down with her eyes agape. Eloise swallowed harshly, fear running through her. Before she could say anything, Y/n was already moving, standing, and beginning to pace, warming herself near the fire.

"Times have really never changed, here?" Y/n gaped, panic rising in her like a forest fire. "Anyone identified as queer would be ruined, even their families... I should have never returned, I should have stayed in Paris, be free to be who I wished. Eloise, would Lady Whistledown, target anyone with queer traits."

"It's Lady Whistledown, what do you think?"

"Noooo, I need to pack and leave. Run back to Paris. Fake my death?" Y/n was beginning to sound crazy to Eloise.

Why is she panicking? Unless... "You're queer..." It sounded more like a question than a statement. Y/n stomps over to her hastily, cupping her hand over her lips, hovering over her, pressing her into the cushions.

"Must you speak so loudly. And if you must know, I'm bisexual. I have been aware of my fruity tastes for a long while, even far before my trip to Paris, only there did I explode myself, if you understand what I mean." She was so close, Eloise could smell her, her scent so intoxicating.

She slowly, slid her palm away, rolling her thumb over her lips, almost relishing in the feeling. "Tell no one." Her voice, smooth and oddly sweet, in her ears.

"Tell, no one got it." Eloise nods, cheeks burning a vibrant pink. "You're blushing. El, do I make you blush?" Y/n grins, leaning closer, her breath tickling her lips.

Her breathing rose, strangling Eloise, realizing if she to move, even in the slightest her lips would meet Y/n's.

Kiss me, god just kiss me. Release me of this burden.

With no answer, Y/n lent into her shoulder, snatching the exposed skin between her lips, bodies pressed together.

"Would, you rather lose an eye than kiss me." Said Y/n, her words passing through Eloise's skin.

Eloise sucked air into her lungs, tilting Y/n's chin, her eyes meeting hers. "I did not mean what I said then. I wanted you to kiss me, take me with you, be with you. Y/n I have hungered for you, for so long," She paused, gaze taking in every detail of the beauty in her view.

"I feared you'll never return, and I'll starve without you. You're my water and my meal, I'll go parch and go hungry without you. No, I'd rather not lose an eye than kiss you." Her words hung in the gap, so true, it made Y/n's heart dance.

Without another word, she dragged her chin, her lips meeting Y/n's. Eloise moaned, fire bubbling in her stomach, a whizzing boom going off in her ears. Fireworks, booming in the distance, sparks flying. She has been waiting for this, waiting for the right kiss, and this was it. In its gentleness something exciting happened, life.

She couldn't stop the smile, glad she had chosen to keep both her eyes and kiss the girl she has been starving for, for so long. "What are you smiling about?" Asked Y/n, breaking the kiss and grinning down at her.

"Nothing, truly." Eloise giggled, thumb grazing Y/n's lips. "Kiss me again." She orders, pulling Y/n back down, slamming her lips against hers.

Hers hands wander down her back, groping Y/n's ass, rewarding her a gasp, allowing a way past her lips.

Y/n straightens herself up, gasping for air, Eloise's hands gripping her hips. "Have you had sex with a woman before?" Eloise's eyes widened, her lips plump and red. "No... Not at all."

"Have you touched yourself." Y/n removed her gloves, tossing them aside, undoing her dress. "Yes, I have." She grinned, pulling her dress over her head.

"Do you wish to have sex?" She asked, stiffing a laugh at Eloise's reaction to her almost bare body.

She didn't say a word, but nodded frantically, working on her own dress, sitting up to allow Y/n to pull it off her. Once removed, their lips met again, a bit sloppily but Eloise wasn't really taking her time, to high on the moment.

Eloise desperately worked at Y/n's corset, wanting it off as Y/n took her time, knowing the thread of corset with her eyes closed. "Slow down, El. I'm going nowhere." She pants against her lips, noting her lids were already lust shot.

"Calm yourself." She tosses her corset before doing the same to Eloise's. Chest bare for only a minute, before Eloise latches her lips to her left nipple, sucking and licking with her right accompanied by her hand, kneading the flesh.

Rolling her eyes back, her head slowly fell back, moans spilling from her lips. Her hand lingered past her panties, fingers passing her folds, working at her pussy, fucking herself. Biting on her lip, she focuses on pleasing herself, rolling her hips in her own hand, mouth agape. Eloise detaches herself from her breasts, allowing her to fall back, watching her fuck herself, legs spread, gaze locked on hers.

"Come here."

She listens and crawls over to her, watching Y/n remove her digest from her cunt, wet and glossy. "Open," She orders, satisfied as Eloise takes her fingers into her mouth, moaning and sucking on them. "Drink me." She coos, pulling Eloise closer, pulling both their panties off, lining their cunts together before dragging her fingers out of her mouth.

"Grind your pretty little cunt on mine, it will make you feel good." She did not have to do much convincing, for it only took Eloise but a moment to adjust herself, starting to rock her hips.

"Like that?" She asks, moving slowly. "Just a bit to the le-"

She threw her head back, Eloise resting her head on her shoulder, moaning as she gripped her ass, speeding up her pace. Y/n held her close, rocking her hips against hers, rubbing their sex together, in a tangle of limbs. Humping harder and harder, Eloise was cutting it close to the edge but Y/n was just getting started, if the two were to both wish to orgasm tonight, it will be a long night indeed.

[in-my-feels-probably]

rewatching queen charlotte and bridgerton before season 3 comes out…any requests? 👀

i write for benedict, anthony, and george

(considering daphne too and some of the other girls too if anyone has a request for them too)

[cassiefromhell]

So I got into Bridgerton.

Like, got into it, have binged the first six episodes (i have so many predictions you guys!!)

But the important part: I want to be Daphne and Simon’s whore. Like, I’m cool with being a side piece.

So… Here’s a sneak peek snippet of a Daphne x Reader fic coming soon… it’s written in second person and I’m trying to be fancy with it (because it’s Bridgerton) so… enjoy!!!!

(no warnings)

“Ladylike”

Daphne x Reader

Part I, Act I

The Queen, mighty as she is, was disapproving of you.

Of you. Of *you.*

You never could have dreamt of this happening. You had prepared for this for weeks — hell, your whole life. Your entire responsibility as the only heir of a high-ranking household (female, much to your father’s dismay) was to marry rich. Manage a household. Be wed to a responsible and wealthy man who would help you manage the household that would go to your children one day, to keep alive your family name.

But now you stood there, stunned as the Queen frowned at you, assessing your clothing. “You are no diamond,” her voice boomed across the room, shaking your bones and demanding attention. “You are coal, at best. Your fingers are calloused — what is a girl like you doing with scratches and scars?”

You blinked, but knew that honesty was your best bet. You dipped your head, casting your gaze low, and replied with your steadiest tone. “Your royal highness, I often ride with my father, which leads to the callouses. And, well, your majesty, I help the servants with the gardens, and a particularly nasty rose bush marked up my arm last Sunday.”

“How unladylike.”

*Bitch.*

You did not speak that aloud. Instead, you waited. And waited.

“You are dismissed. Next,” the queen bellowed. Not even a flake of remorse could be scrounged up.

You stifled a sigh, turning on your heel and striding, with as much grace as you could muster, to the door.

“Daphne Bridgerton, presented by her mother, Violet Bridgerton,” the councilman called, gesturing as the monstrously large double ivory doors swung open.

And that, that is when you saw her.

A blur of pale, porcelain skin, unmarked and shiny looking. She seemed to glimmer and glow under the candlelit chandelier, rays of buttery sunlight striking her ginger hair.

You could not catch her eye color — no, for it would be wrong to even truly look in her direction. She was practically a goddess in name alone, and in body… you had no words.

She strode past you with not so much as a glimpse your way, but that was alright.

Because you had seen her.

And that was all you needed.

[chaxan08]

British Titles

I usually don't share posts of this type, but I've taken the liberty of doing so because I've read several fanfics and seen too many posts both here and on TikTok, in which it's more than evident that many people don't know how British noble titles worked in the 18th and 19th century. This is something I've seen more in the Bridgerton fandom, but many content creators or writers from other fandoms have made the same mistakes when interpreting noble titles.

First of all, I would like to clarify something. English and British noble titles are not exactly the same, although they are related. The following explains the difference and the historical context:

Historical Context.

England:

Before the formation of the United Kingdom, England had its own system of noble titles.

Titles such as duke, marquess, earl, viscount, and baron were common.

2. Great Britain:

In 1707, with the Act of Union, England and Scotland united to form the Kingdom of Great Britain.

After this union, noble titles became titles of the Kingdom of Great Britain.

3. United Kingdom:

In 1801, with the incorporation of Ireland through the Act of Union, the Kingdom of Great Britain became the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.

This further expanded the scope of noble titles.

Noble Titles.

Despite these political changes, the titles themselves (duke, marquess, earl, viscount, baron) remained consistent in terms of hierarchy and honor. The main difference was the realm and origin of the title:

English Titles:

Referred specifically to those created in the Kingdom of England before 1707.

Examples: Duke of Norfolk, Marquess of Winchester, Earl of Derby.

2. British Titles:

Refers to those created after 1707 in the Kingdom of Great Britain and later in the United Kingdom.

Examples: Duke of Marlborough, Marquess of Rockingham, Earl of Chatham.

Differences and Similarities.

Similarities:

The hierarchy and responsibilities of the titles remained the same, regardless of the change in the kingdom's designation.

Titles granted by the British crown maintained the same forms of address and privileges.

2. Differences:

British titles cover a broader scope, including Scotland and Ireland (later Northern Ireland).

English titles were specific to the Kingdom of England before the formation of Great Britain.

In short, while English and British noble titles are part of the same hierarchy and nobility system, the main distinction lies in the political and historical context in which they were created. During the 18th and 19th centuries, this difference was based on whether the titles originated before or after the unions that first formed Great Britain and later the United Kingdom.

Now then, with that said, I want to mention that my main reference for this is the article 'ENGLISH TITLES IN THE 18TH AND 19TH CENTURIES' by Jo Beverley, who is a Member of the RWA Hall of Fame for Regency Romance. Here is the link if you want to read the original article: On Titles (jobev.com)

It is also important to mention that, as Jo Beverley said, this brief run-down of English titles is for use by fiction writers. It is by no means comprehensive, but covers the more common situations arising in novels set in the above periods.

Now, the peerage basically runs according to primogeniture, ie the eldest son gets nearly everything. If a peer has no eldest son, the title and possessions that belong to it go to the next male heir, probably a brother or nephew.

There are a very few titles that can pass to a female if there is no direct heir, but they will revert to the male line when the lady bears a son. (Such as the monarchy.) Some titles can automatically pass through a female heir (when there is no male heir) and most can be revived by subsequent generations by petitioning to the Crown. But that's getting into more complicated areas. If your plot depends on something unusual, please do research it thoroughly before going ahead.

As Beverley said, this is a bit more complicated and requires further research if it's something you wish to incorporate into your work, especially if it's set in the 18th or 19th centuries. In the 20th century, this was more common. A clear example would be Lord Mountbatten (1st Earl Mountbatten of Burma), who had no sons, only two daughters. Therefore, he passed his title to his firstborn, Patricia Knatchbull (née Mountbatten). Thanks to this title, the Countess was entitled to a seat in the House of Lords, where she remained until 1999, when a House of Lords Act removed most hereditary peers from the chamber.

But returning to the main topic, the eldest son is called the heir apparent, as he is undoubtedly the heir. If there is no such son, the next in line is called the heir presumptive because, however improbable (such as the duke being on his deathbed), there remains a possibility of a closer heir being born. Therefore, an heir presumptive does not hold the title of heir, if there is one. (See below about heir's titles.)

If a peer dies leaving a wife but no son, the heir inherits unless the widow says she might be with child. It is for her to do that. If she stays silent, it is assumed that she is not. If she's pregnant, everything waits until the child is born.

These last two paragraphs can be perfectly illustrated by an example that many know. In 'When he was wicked', after the death of John Sterling, Earl of Kilmartin, Michael Sterling is not immediately named as the new Earl upon his cousin's death, as Francesca announces her pregnancy. But since she had a miscarriage, there was no longer a possible heir to the late Earl of Kilmartin, and therefore, the title is immediately inherited by Michael.

Continuing with the main topic, an heir must be legitimate at birth to inherit a title, though that could mean a marriage ceremony performed while the mother is in labor. A peer may raise bastards with devotion and/or marry the mother later, but a bastard child can never be his legal heir.

It's also crucial to mention that peers automatically had seats in the House of Lords. Note, however, that courtesy titles (those held by heirs) do not give seats, or any of the other privileges of the peerage.

Something else that is highly important to clarify, as confusion is quite common, is that most peers do not use their surnames as their title. Thus, the usual pattern would be something like Sebastian Burgoyne, Earl of Malzard. He is Lord Malzard NEVER Lord Burgoyne. (Or, for that matter, Lord Sebastian.) As an author, you might like variety, but take as a general rule is that no one ever had two forms of address.

THE RANKS OF THE PEERAGE

Duke.

Leaving aside royalty, this is the highest rank. His wife is the Duchess. They will be duke and duchess of something.

If we use the famous main couple from Bridgerton Season 1, the example would be: Duke and Duchess of Hastings. Address is "Your Grace", though familiars may address them just as Duke and Duchess. Like, "Fine weather for shooting, eh, Duke?" or may address the duke by title. "Care for more port, Hastings?"

The duke will also have a family name, that is, a surname, but he will not use it in the normal course of events. And something crucial that is also commonly confused, the duchess does NOT use the surname at all. Continuing with the same example, if Daphne Bridgerton marries the Duke of Hastings (whose surname is Basset), she will be the Duchess of Hastings and will informally sign as Daphne Hastings, NEVER as Daphne Basset.

The duke's eldest son is his heir and will have his father's second-best title as his courtesy title. Nearly all peers have a number of titles marking their climb up the ranks. The heir to a duke is often the next lowest ranking peer, a marquess, but the title could, however, be an earldom, or even a viscountcy. For example, the eldest son of Daphne and Simon, the Duke and Duchess of Hastings, holds the courtesy title that his father had when the Late Duke of Hastings was still alive: Earl of Clyvedon.

Important note, a courtesy title does not give the holder a seat in the House of Lords or other privileges of the peerage.

If the heir has a son before the heir becomes duke, that son will take the next lowest title as a courtesy title. If the heir dies before his father, his eldest son becomes the heir apparent and takes his father's title.

Apart from the heir, a duke's sons are given the courtesy title Lord with their Christian name. (Lord + firstname + surname). Continuing with the example of the Duke and Duchess of Hastings, assuming that like in the book, they also have David and Edward in the series, their courtesy titles would be: Lord David Basset and Lord Edward Basset. They are NEVER Lord Basset or Lord David Hastings and Lord Edward Hastings.

All duke's daughters are given the courtesy title (Lady + firstname + surname). And continuing with the same example, the daughters of the Duke and Duchess of Hastings, Belinda and Caroline, would be: Lady Belinda Basset and Lady Caroline Basset. Also, they are NEVER Lady Basset or Lady Belinda Hastings and Lady Caroline Hastings.

And also, if they marry a commoner, they retain the title. Let's say Lady Belinda marries Mr. Sticklethwait, she becomes Lady Belinda Sticklethwait. But if she marries a peer, she adopts his title. If Lady Belinda marries the Earl of Herrick, she becomes Countess of Herrick, Lady Herrick. And if she marries the holder of a courtesy title, then she may use his title or her birth title as she wishes.

I make this clarification because it's the most common mistake in these types of novels. Note that in all cases, titles like Lord or Lady with both first and surname (eg. Lady Anne Middleton) and Lord or Lady "last name" or "title" (Lady Middleton) are exclusive. No one can be both at the same time. Moreover, Lord or Lady "firstname" is a title conferred at birth. It CANNOT be gained later in life except when the father accedes to a title and thus raises his family.

So, Lady Mary Smith is not Lady Smith and vice versa. Lord John Brown in not Lord Brown and vice versa. If Mary Smith marries Lord Brown she becomes Lady Brown, NOT Lady Mary. (If she marries Lord John Brown, she becomes Lady John Brown. Yes, it may sound odd to modern ears, but the past is, as they say, a different country. That's the charm of historical fiction.)

Marquess.

This is the next rank. (As above, it can be spelled marquis or marquess, but in either case is pronounced markwess.)

Similar to the duke, he will be the Marquess of something, for example: He is Richard Byron, the Marquess of Salisbury, or Lord Salisbury, or simply Salisbury to his family. His wife is the Marchioness of Salisbury or Lady Salisbury. She would sign with her firstname and title, for example: Diana Salisbury, NEVER Diana Byron.

His heir apparent takes his next highest title as a courtesy title (eg. Earl of Cranborne). All other sons have the title of Lord with their first and surname (eg. Lord Arthur Byron and Lord Albert Byron, NEVER Lord Byron or Lord Arthur Salisbury and Lord Albert Salisbury). All daughters have the title of Lady with their first and surname (eg. Lady Alexandra Byron and Lady Amelia Byron, NEVER Lady Byron or Lady Alexandra Salisbury and Lady Amelia Salisbury).

Earl.

He will nearly always be earl of something. His wife is the Countess. If we take another famous couple from Bridgerton, they would refer to him as "the Earl of Kilmartin" or "Lord Kilmartin," or simply "Kilmartin" among family. His wife will be the Countess of Kilmartin or Lady Kilmartin, and she will sign as Francesca Kilmartin. In the same way as with the wife of a duke or marquess, considering that the Earl of Kilmartin is named John Stirling, Francesca will NEVER be called Francesca Stirling. That's why in the series, when she introduces herself to Michaela, she says that her name is now Kilmartin and NOT Stirling.

It's important to mention that some Earls do not use 'of' like Earl Spencer, and in that case, the family surname is the same as the title (following the previous example, the surname would be Spencer), but this is quite unusual and I think it should be avoided in fiction unless it's a crucial plot point.

As with a duke or marquess, the earl's heir will take the next lowest title as a courtesy title, and the heir's son, the next again. Continuing with the example of the Kilmartins, it's not very clear what the courtesy title for John Sterling II (son of Francesca and Michael in the books) is, but if Michael Sterling is the Earl of Kilmartin and has a subsidiary title of Viscount, then their eldest son, John Sterling II, would use the courtesy title of Viscount Glenmore or Lord Glenmore. If there is no specific subsidiary title, then the eldest son would simply be known as Lord John Stirling.

All the daughters of an earl are given the courtesy title: Lady + their first name. Again, using the Kilmartins as an example: Lady Janet Stirling and NEVER Lady Janet Kilmartin. Younger sons of an earl, however, are merely "The Honorable" which is not used in casual speech. So, assuming in the books Michael and Francesca had another son, for example, Michael Stirling II, he would simply be The Honorable Michael Stirling, but in casual speech, he would simply be referred to as Mr. Michael Stirling or just Mr. Stirling.

Viscount.

His wife is a Viscountess. He will not use 'of'. He will be, for example, Viscount Bridgerton, usually known as Lord Bridgerton, or just Bridgerton. His wife will be known as Lady Bridgerton and will sign herself Kathani Bridgerton.

His heir has no special title. All children are known as "The Honorable". Continuing with the example of the Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton, their children would be called:

*The Honorable Edmund Bridgerton, and simply be referred to as Mr. Edmund Bridgerton.

*The Honorable Miles Bridgerton, and simply be referred to as Mr. Miles Bridgerton.

*The Honorable Charlotte Bridgerton, and simply be referred to as Miss Charlotte Bridgerton.

*The Honorable Mary Bridgerton, and simply be referred to as Miss Mary Bridgerton.

Baron.

This is the lowest rank in the peerage. His wife is a Baroness. NOTE that the terms baron and baroness are only used in the most formal documents, or when the distinction has to be made elsewhere. General usage is simply to call them Lord and Lady.

She will sign with her name and title. The children are known as "The Honorable".

Using another character from Bridgerton, if we assume that Colin and Penelope Bridgerton's son is named Elliot, then Elliot Bridgerton, the new Lord Featherington, would sign as Lord Featherington and NEVER as Lord Bridgerton. Therefore, his wife would also sign with his title, that is, Featherington. For example, if the wife's name is Elizabeth, then she would be Lady Featherington and would sign as Elizabeth Featherington, and NEVER as Elizabeth Bridgerton or Lady Bridgerton.

Baronet.

The next in the ranking—and not of the nobility—is Baronet. A baronet is addressed as Sir + first name + surname. For example, using another couple from the Bridgerton universe, Sir Phillip Crane. His wife would be called Lady + surname. For example, Lady Crane and not Lady Eloise Crane unless she is the daughter of a duke, marquess, or earl (which is not the case). She would sign with her full name, as Eloise Crane.

His children have no special distinction. However, the title is inheritable. So, continuing to use Sir Phillip as a reference, when he dies, his baronetcy will pass to his eldest son Oliver, who will then be called Sir Oliver.

It's worth mention that although in the series Oliver is NOT Sir Phillip's biological son, he still married Marina before the birth of the twins and acknowledged them both as his own, so the baronetcy title will pass without any issue to Oliver. In the event that he did not acknowledge them as his children or that Sir Phillip and Marina married after the birth of the twins, then the title of Sir Phillip would pass to his next legitimate son, Frederick (son of Sir Phillip and Eloise in the books).

Knight.

A knight is essentially treated the same as a baronet, but with the difference that it is a lifetime title only. His wife will be Lady + surname.

OTHER MATTERS

Dowagers

When a titled lady is widowed she becomes a dowager, but the practice has generally been not to use that title until the heir takes a wife, since there can be confusion about who the true Lady Bridgerton is, for example.

And even if she has a daughter-in-law, in general usage she would still be referred to by the simple title unless there was likely to be confusion. So, if the Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton was at a house party while her daughter-in-law was in London, people would not be constantly referring to her as the Dowager Viscountess.

Female titles in their own right

There are a few, very few, titles that can pass to a daughter if there is no son, as in the Royal Family, for example. In this case, the usage is the same as if they were the wife of a peer of that rank, but their husband gains NO title from the marriage, just as the Duke of Edinburgh was not king.

A Peeress in her Own Right retains her title after marriage, and if her husband's rank is the superior one, she is designated by the two titles jointly, the inferior one last. Or she can say what form she wants to use. (eg The Marchioness of Rothgar is also the Countess of Arradale by right. She chooses to be Lady Rothgar and Arradale in the most formal situations, Lady Rothgar in general, but Lady Arradale in private, especially when attending to her duties as Countess of Arradale. Unusual situations do tend to get complicated.) Her hereditary claim to her title holds good in spite of any marriage, and will be passed on.

Since the husband gains no title from such a marriage, it's possible to have the Countess of Arbuthnot married to Mr. Smith.

Her eldest son will be her heir and take her next lowest title. If she has no son, her eldest daughter will be her heir, but until she becomes the peer she will hold only the title that comes from her birth — eg. Lady Anne — if any, because an eldest daughter is always an heir presumptive. There might still be a boy.

The most common errors observed in novels:

Interchanging courtesy titles like Lady Mary Smith and Lady Smith.

Interchanging peerage titles, as when Michael Downs, Earl of Rosebury is variously known as Lord Rosebury, Lord Downs, and Lord Michael Downs.

Applying titles that don't belong, as when Jane Potts marries Viscount Twistleton and erroneously becomes Lady Jane, a title form that can only come by birth.

Having the widow of just about anyone, but especially a peer, remarry before time has elapsed to be sure she is not bearing a child. Or rather, whose child it is that she bears!

Having the heir presumptive assume the title and powers before the widow has made it clear that she's not going to produce an heir.

Having an adopted son inherit a title. Legal adoption was not possible in England until the twentieth century, and even now an adopted son cannot inherit a title. Even if the son is clearly the father's offspring, if he wasn't born after a legal marriage, he cannot inherit the father's title. However, since they didn't have DNA testing, a child was assumed to be legitimate unless the father denied it from the first. Even if the son turns out to look suspiciously like the vicar, the father cannot deny him later. This, I assume was to avoid the chaos of peers coming up with all sorts of excuses to switch heirs on a whim.

Having a title left in a will, which follows from the above. A title cannot be willed to whomever the peer in question chooses. It goes according to the original letters patent, which almost always say that it will go to the oldest legitimate male in direct descent. The property can be left elsewhere, unless it is entailed, but the title goes by legitimate blood.

Having an heiress (ie a daughter without brothers) inherit a title and convey it to her husband. It could be done — anything could — by special decree of the Crown, but it was not at all normal.

Now, when you've arrived at the title you want to give your character, perform an internet search to see if it exists. You can also check The Peerage or do an advanced search on Google Books. You wouldn't want to give your fictional character a title that was already in use at that time. Additionally, some readers will be knowledgeable about the real nobility and it could disrupt the fictional reality you're trying to create.

If you really like the title but it already exists or existed, you can modify it while still retaining its appeal. For example, if Lord Amesbury exists, you could create Lord Aymesbury or Lord Embury. If your character's family has been in Suffolk for generations, names of places in Suffolk can provide ideas for names.

I hope this helps, although I'm sure it can be subject to debate and improvement.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Who fell first and who fell harder

Anthony: He fell first and harder

Benedict: You fell first but he fell harder

Colin: He fell first but you fell harder

Daphne: She fell first and harder

Eloise: You fell first and harder

Penelope: She fell first and harder

Simon: You fell first but he fell harder

[starless-nightz]

Writing for Bridgerton again