#the bridgertons are coming to disturb the peace

[sea-owl]

Anthony: Hey Colin.

(Colin punches Anthony in the stomach)

Anthony: What the fuck?

Colin: You are one of my very best friends. And I cannot stand by and watch you throw away your life like this. You're too young. You're too beautiful.

Anthony: What the fuck are you talking about?

Colin: I'm talking about the baby that's growing inside of your belly right now. (Point at Anthony’s Belly)

Kate: See ya! (leaves)

Anthony: I'm not pregnant!

Colin: Well, not after that punch you're not. I've been taking muay thai classes.

Anthony: I was never pregnant, Colin!

Colin: A… Ar.. Are you sure?

Anthony: Yes I'm fucking sure!

Eloise: I'm sorry, but why the fuck is everybody yelling over here?

Colin: Oh, I found this positive pregnancy test and—

(Eloise knee Anthony in the ball)

Anthony: Aw motherfucker!

Let be known that all the siblings gotna shot at Anthony when they heard about the pregnancy. Meanwhile this is how Anthony found out he was going to be a dad through Kate's pregnancy.

[frost-queen]

All about the heart (Reader & Bridgerton Siblings)

Requested by: @mariexoxosblog, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @cherrysxuya

Summary: Reader has a heart defect where you have a hard time breathing whilst running with your siblings.

Chatter filled the park as the Bridgerton’s arrived. Anthony in the front, looking over his shoulder to reply to Colin’s remark. Francesca running past him with Gregory. Eloise and Benedict walking side by side in silence. Francesca with mama as Daphne had her arm around you. Some gents and ladies turned their heads at the sudden disturbance of peace. – “Gregory! Hyacinth! Stay close!” – Violet called out seeing they were running off.

Hyacinth giggled loud, turning around to run up to Anthony. Anthony paused, blocked her way and picked her up to her dislike. She called it out when she got lifted up. Her complaints ending in laughter as Anthony set her back down. Gregory ran up to the tent, claiming the first chair as his by letting himself fall into it. Benedict jogged over to him.

Whistling loud with a nudge against his leg to get off. – “This is my seat.” – Gregory said stubborn. Benedict set his hands on the arms of the chair, leaning in. – “Go help mama.” – he replied with a cheeky smile. Gregory stared annoyed at him as Benedict kept nudging him to get up.

Gregory got up going over to Violet as Benedict sat himself down smiling. Francesca rounded him with crossed arms. – “You are the worst.” – she commented with half a smile. Benedict shrugged his shoulders, glad he had a good chair. Daphne saw another one of the folding chairs leading you to it. She sat you down happily.

She then went over to Colin to assist him into spreading out a blanket. Benedict grabbed the arms of his chair, hopping his chair closer to yours so that he could face you. – “Comfortable sister?” – he asked. You nodded. Benedict held his hand low with a luring smirk. You slapped your hand down on his with a laugh.

Benedict grabbed for you, tickling you. You squirmed against his grip, already feeling it come up. Feeling how hard your heart was pumping to get the blood flowing around your body. Your breathing becoming deeper, getting worn out. Anthony noticed it, running over. He slapped Benedict against his back to stop.

Benedict moved his hands up, looking questionable at Anthony’s glare. It gave you the time to seat yourself better and catch your breath. Immediately you were worn out. Anthony knelt before you, laying a hand on your knee.  – “Are you alright Y/n?” – he asked. You hummed loud, still trying to steady your breathing. It always took a while to do so. – “I’m not fragile.” – you said to your big brother with a smile.

Anthony took your hand, looking fondly up to you. – “No, but you mustn’t forget your limits.” – he reminded you. Benedict felt a bit guilty. He just wanted to have fun, like he did with Hyacinth or Gregory. You saw the sudden silence and guilt on his face. You moved Anthony aside to get to Benedict. Wrapping your arms around him. – “Thank you for not treating me any different.” – you whispered to him. Benedict hugged you back.

It wasn’t easy being different from your different. A heart defect they called it. A default in the heart that made it easier for you to get worn out. Your heart needing to put in that little extra effort to get the blood flow around your body. Gregory came over, tugging at Anthony. – “Come play!” – he said, pulling Anthony away. You waved him away, letting him know, you would be alright. – “I’ll just settle with my notebook.” – you told him.

Benedict re-arranged the chairs so that you were sitting beside each other. He took out his sketchbook and pencil. You opened your notebook scribbling down words. Poets. Little stories you loved to write out. Colin joined Anthony, Gregoy and Hyacinth by the tent for a game. Violet was sharing tea with Daphne and Francesca. Eloise laid down near them, trying to catch some more sleep.

Hyacinth and Anthony stood before each other. Gregory and Colin to the side. Hyacinth signalled to Anthony that she was ready to throw. She threw the hoop at him. Both Gregory and Colin trying to grab it. They missed as the hoop hooked around Anthony’s arm. He pulled his eyebrow cheeky up, making Hyacinth laugh. Anthony threw the hoop back as Colin shot his hand forwards, hitting the hoop with his fingers as it landed against Gregory’s head.

“Au, what was that for.” – Gregory called out, rubbing his head. – “Sorry.” – Colin apologized. Gregory picked the hoop up from the ground, giving it back to Anthony for another try. Benedict moved his head to the side, trying to peak at your notebook. – “Writing a poem about me?” – he asked teasingly.

You busted out in a laughter. – “You have to admit I am very interesting to write poems about.” – he brought his hands behind his back, stretching his legs out. His comment made you roll your eyes in a sarcastic way.

 “If Y/n wrote about you it would make people scream.” – Eloise commented with one eye half open. Benedict looked behind him to her on the blanket. – “Scream with terror.” – Eloise filled in with a loud laugh. Benedict moved his hand behind him to playfully slap at her but he couldn’t reach her. Gregory came running over to you. – “Y/n do you want to play with us?” – he asked.

“I would love to.” – you answered putting your notebook away. – “Be mindful Y/n.” – Violet called out as you went after Gregory. – “Yes mama.” – you responded getting pulled away by Gregory. You joined the others. – “Let’s play tag.” – Hyacinth suggested. Anthony looked over to you. – “Suggest something else Hyacinth.” – he spoke. 

You immediately knew he referred to you. – “I can handle it. Let’s play tag.” – you expressed not wanting to give your family limitations. – “Y/n are you sure?” – Colin spoke as you didn’t want to hear any more pity. – “Yes! Now let’s play.” – you said a bit annoyed. – “I’ll be it.” – Anthony moved his hand up, his other pressed to his chest.

Hyacinth and Gregory started to run away. Colin waited for you. You started easy, jogging off as you immediately felt it. Your breathing becoming shallow and loud. Anthony started to run as you staid still for a moment to catch your breath. You saw your brother run over to Gregory as he made his way over to you. With Gregory nearing, you had to run as well. You kept going feeling the pounding of your heart in your head.

Your legs feeling like it carried sandbags. The immediate feeling of tiredness in your legs as you knew you couldn’t hold it out any longer. You needed a moment to stop. Anthony noticed it slowing down. He looked around, going after Colin as he deliberately left you alone. – “Hey you could’ve tagged her!” – Colin called out taking a run for it.

“I choose whom I tag!” – Anthony breathed out. Anthony was able to tag Hyacinth as she was bummed out by it. You were near Colin, standing a bit still as Colin was shielding you a bit. Hyacinth came running over. Colin darted to the side as she focused her tag on you instead.

Squealing loud, you leapt aside, starting to run to avoid her. Hyacinth kept running after you. You weren’t a quitter so you kept running. Feeling your body tire out from the exercise. Breathing loud that it was more like panting. Your head turning a shade of red as you felt warm. Heart pounding in your head. – “Tag you’re it!” – Hyacinth called out touching your back.

The moment she tagged you, you stopped. Legs feeling sloppy as you let yourself fall to the ground. – “Y/n!” – your brothers called out. Benedict’s eyes widened, jumping out of his chair to run over. You laid yourself on your back, panting loud to catch your breath. Anthony and Colin rushing over to kneel at each side of you. – “Are you alright sister?” – Anthony asked worried. – “I’m fine.” – you answered out of breath.

“I just… need to catch… my breath…” – you replied, feeling your heart pound loudly in your chest. You noticed your siblings looked frightfully at you. – “I’m alright. I just need a moment to recover.” – you reminded them. Colin helped you sit up straight as you were still breathing loudly through your mouth. – “How about a game of cards?” – you suggested with a laugh. Benedict shook his head playfully. Anthony and Colin helped you up to your feet. Leading you back to the tent for some calmer games.

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[folkloresthings]

from the kiss prompt list maybe for anthony bridgerton the prompt "one is on the other's lap, holding their face between their hands, kissing them and instantly forgetting everything else in the room with them". mayhaps anthony x wife! reader?

i adore your work sm. 🩷

[ one is on the other’s lap, holding their face between their hands, kissing them and instantly forgetting everything else in the room with them ] with anthony bridgerton.

the reality of life as the new viscount and viscountess bridgerton had hit both you and anthony a few weeks after returning from honeymoon —— in italy, neither of you cared for responsibilities or business, too tangled up in newlywed bliss. every moment not spent exploring could find the couple under the sheets of their rented estate (or, rather, any other place they could find).

but now, settled back into a routine at bridgerton house, the business of every day had stolen you away from each other. other than the late nights and early mornings, it was rare to find a moment alone. anthony had many duties as viscount; an estate to run, bills to pay, messages to receive. and you — well, you had never been a viscountess before. there was everything to learn.

thankfully, violet was more than willing to pass on her years of knowledge. every day was a new lesson, from the running of a household to the planning of a ball. your mother-in-law was wonderful company, but day after day of taking tea with her only made you miss your husband’s company more.

one afternoon, when violet was preoccupied with francesca’s appointment at the modiste, you took the chance to sneak away upstairs. the floorboards creaked under each step you took towards anthony’s study, the door just a little ajar to the room. peeking around quietly, your eyes fall upon your husband bent over a stack of papers, quill etching furiously.

your knuckles rapp on the wooden door to catch his attention. “am i disturbing you?”

anthony’s lips instantly pull into a smile at the sight of you, fresh-faced and anxiously looking across to him. “not at all, dear. come in.”

clicking the heavy door shut behind you, your feet carry you across to the desk, stood just beside anthony’s chair. a hand rests on his shoulder, squeezing at the loose cotton there.

“much to do?” you query, peeking over his head to catch a glimpse of the records.

“too much,” he grumbles, slumping back in the chair, fingers coming to pinch the bridge of his nose before they rub over his tired eyes.

with a swell of your heart, you take the opportunity of his relaxed frame to slot yourself between the desk and chair, gently sitting yourself down onto his lap. like second nature, anthony’s hands slip around your waist, thumbs brushing against the soft silk of your dress.

placing a hand on each cheek, anthony’s eyes flutter shut as he relaxes into your delicate touch, his tense shoulders giving way to exhaustion. ducking your head down, you catch his lips in yours, soft in their pressing to the sweet taste of tobacco and whiskey. anthony melts into the sweet kiss, a small hum of contentment bubbling from the back of his throat.

“you really ought to—” you whisper, parting from his lips to try and coax him away from his work for a while. but the kiss was doing just enough to let him forget the mountain of work he had waiting for him, and he didn’t want to remember it all just yet.

a small gasp leaves your lips when he grasps onto your waist, tighter now, pulling you back down to the previous position of your lips atop his. he silences your advice with a simple kiss, knocking the breath from your chest, hanging onto the moment of peace your lips brings for just another moment.

when he finally finds it acceptable to part from you, he no longer has any interest in finishing the tasks of the day, only in you. his hands wander along your middle, eyes heavier when they graze along the bare skin of your neck.

“you really ought to take a break,” you finally revive your earlier words, a small smile tugging at your lips, thumbs still smoothing along the soft skin of his cheeks.

“you are right, darling wife,” anthony murmurs, rising from his chair and sweeping you into his arms in what seems like one easy move. it pulls a giggle from your throat, adoring nuzzling into the nape of his neck. “and i have something very enjoyable in mind.”

feeling his feet carry you both along the familiar path to your shared bedroom, his plan becomes quite obvious. and who were you, his sweet wife, to deny such relaxation?

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Could you do Benedict Bridgerton with wife reader? They had a late night rendezvous. Sneaking out, taking a stroll, stargazing around the park/or anywhere. Just fluff for our lovely couple. Thanks!! :))

Stargazing

Benedict bridgerton x wife fem reader

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the Bridgerton estate. Inside the grand house, all was quiet. The family had long since retired for the night, and a peaceful silence enveloped the halls. However, in one corner of the house, a light still flickered behind closed curtains.

Benedict Bridgerton quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Y/N as she slept. He moved with practiced stealth, gathering a few items before returning to the bedside. Gently, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, causing her to stir.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. “Wake up, love. I have a surprise for you.”

Y/N blinked sleepily, her eyes slowly focusing on Benedict’s face. “What time is it?” she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.

“Late enough that everyone else is asleep,” he replied with a mischievous smile. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

Curiosity piqued, Y/N allowed Benedict to help her out of bed. He handed her a warm shawl to wrap around her shoulders, then took her hand, leading her out of their room and down the silent corridors of the house. They moved with the quiet ease of two people who had snuck out together many times before.

Once outside, the cool night air greeted them, crisp and refreshing. Benedict led Y/N towards the edge of the estate, where a small gate opened onto a path leading to a nearby park. The moonlight illuminated their way, casting long shadows and making the landscape look like something out of a dream.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked, her voice filled with wonder.

“You’ll see,” Benedict replied, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

They strolled hand in hand along the path, the night alive with the sounds of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves. As they walked, Benedict shared stories of his childhood adventures in the park, his voice a comforting murmur in the quiet night. Y/N listened, her heart swelling with love for the man beside her.

Eventually, they reached a secluded clearing in the park. Benedict paused, turning to Y/N with a smile. “Close your eyes,” he instructed.

Y/N obliged, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine. She felt Benedict’s hands on her shoulders, gently guiding her forward. After a few steps, he stopped her. “Okay, open your eyes.”

Y/N gasped in delight. Before her lay a cozy setup: a blanket spread out on the grass, surrounded by lanterns that cast a soft, golden glow. A basket of treats and a bottle of wine sat nearby, completing the romantic scene.

“Benedict, this is wonderful,” Y/N exclaimed, turning to him with shining eyes.

Benedict’s smile widened. “I thought we could use a little escape, just the two of us. It’s been too long since we had a night like this.”

They settled down on the blanket, Benedict pouring them each a glass of wine. They toasted to the night, the clink of their glasses echoing softly in the stillness. As they sipped their wine, they lay back on the blanket, gazing up at the stars.

“Look,” Benedict said, pointing to a cluster of stars. “There’s Orion. And over there, you can see the Pleiades.”

Y/N snuggled closer to him, her head resting on his shoulder. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Benedict kissed the top of her head. “Anything for you, my love.”

They lay in comfortable silence for a while, the stars twinkling above them. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their own little universe. Benedict’s hand found Y/N’s, their fingers intertwining.

“Do you remember the first time we did this?” Y/N asked, her voice soft and nostalgic.

Benedict chuckled. “Of course. I was so nervous, I nearly tripped over my own feet trying to impress you.”

Y/N laughed, the sound a musical melody in the night. “And I thought you were the most charming man I’d ever met.”

Benedict turned to her, his eyes filled with love. “And now?”

“Now,” Y/N said, her voice tender, “I know you’re the most charming man I’ve ever met. And the most loving, and the most wonderful.”

Benedict’s heart swelled with emotion. “I love you, Y/N. More than words can ever express.”

“I love you too, Benedict,” she replied, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Forever and always.”

They shared a slow, lingering kiss, the kind that spoke of promises and dreams for the future. When they finally pulled away, they stayed close, their foreheads touching, content just to be together.

As the night wore on, they shared stories, dreams, and laughter. They reminisced about the past and planned for the future, their love for each other growing with every whispered word. The stars bore silent witness to their love, twinkling like a thousand blessings from the heavens.

Eventually, the chill of the night began to seep into their bones, and Benedict reluctantly suggested they head back. They packed up their things, and with one last look at the starlit clearing, they made their way back to the house.

As they walked hand in hand, Benedict knew that this night, this perfect, magical night, would be a memory they would cherish forever. And as they slipped back into bed, curling up together under the warm covers, he whispered a silent vow to himself: to always make time for moments like these, no matter what life threw their way.

[saintdollyparton]

creloise 45

Creloise... out of anger.

Ooohh juicy!

Cressida slammed the door shut, wheeling around to fix Eloise with a fervid glare. "What business do you have turning up here unannounced after all this time?" she practically shouted. For the first time ever in the duration of their acquaintanceship, Eloise seemed to be at a loss for words. She swallowed audibly and her big blue eyes were wide with surprise and uncertainty. "Seriously? You come all the way to Wales to call on me and now you have nothing to say for yourself?" Cressida stalked forward, using her height to her advantage for the first time. That seemed to snap Eloise out of it somewhat, as she was never one to be cowed for long. She met Cressida's eyes with a fire of her own burning. "I came to apologize!" "A Bridgerton, apologize? Whatever for?" Cressida asked with a sneer. "F-for... for not being there for you. For being so blinded by my own issues that I did not see you needed me..." "I don't need you!" Cressida growled out. Eloise's face softened at that. It was almost too much for Cressida to bear, being looked at so... knowingly. "And what if I need you?" Eloise murmured so quietly, Cressida couldn't be sure she heard her right. How dare she? What right did she have to come here and disturb Cressida's new peaceful life and crack open her poorly-mended heart with pretty words and those damned Bridgerton-blue eyes that haunted Cressida's dreams? Another growl ripped itself from Cressida's throat as she jerked Eloise forward by the front of her travel cloak and crashed their lips together in a bruising kiss. Eloise gave a soft cry of surprise, and Cressida half-expected the hands suddenly grasping at her shoulders to be shoving her away. But then they were sliding up her neck, tugging her further down into Eloise's space. This was not how Cressida imagined their first kiss going. And she had imagined it so many times. But Eloise was kissing her back enthusiastically, and at the moment, that was all that mattered.

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐎𝐍𝐄. 𝐓𝐖𝐎. 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄. [𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓]

PAIRINGS — Francesca Bridgerton & Violet Bridgerton [mother-daughter]

SUMMARY — Francesca and Violet struggle to communicate through words and late nights provide alternate means to do so.

Or, Francesca finds Violet playing the piano late into the evening after the Mondrich ball.

WORD COUNT — 2K

WARNINGS — none

NOTE — Okay so full disclosure this idea came to me BEFORE part 2 came out, but part 2 kind of inspired the direction I ended up taking it :) I love them so much so it was definitely necessary to provide my own interpretation ;) Hope you enjoy!

Francesca was not often the last person awake in Bridgerton house, but this time she thought she might just be the one. That was, at least while she was readying herself for bed alone, having sent her maid off to sleep. 

She thought back to earlier that evening, her heart still uneasy from her interaction with her mother. She was still reeling from it, feeling as though maybe her mother didn’t like John just because her love for him was not like those she had seen with her older siblings, or even what she had had herself with her father. 

Francesca didn’t understand it. She thought of all people, when it came to love, her mother would be the one to understand. Clearly she was mistaken.

Just as she was about to climb into bed, a sigh on her lips, she heard a sound, coming faintly from downstairs. Under normal circumstances, she would have ignored it, but there was something that drew her to it. Something melodic. 

Francesca pushed herself up off her bed, tucking her hair behind her ears, and opening the door now hearing the sound a little louder and clearer than before. 

Now it was obvious, she was hearing the piano from the drawing room, but she frowned curiously. She didn’t know anyone in her family who loved the instrument enough to be playing this late into the night, that was besides herself. 

With pursed lips, Francesca made her way downstairs, her robe wrapped tightly around her, listening as the sounds of a melody got louder and louder as she approached it. 

It wasn’t necessarily perfect, there were stumbles and fumbles, but Francesca could hear past that, the emotion that filled every note, every tone, drenched with a certain…sadness. 

She took a moment outside of the drawing room, just listening to the music without revealing who it was that could play such melancholic phrases. 

As she leaned against the wall, she could feel the vibrations of the instrument in the ground, each strike of the key, each mistake followed by huffs of frustration, as if whoever was playing needed to get the note correct, each chord, each progression. 

Francesca turned around eventually, during a lull in the song, the notes becoming more languid and lazy, the harshness in the sadness and anger of the other movement of the piece coming to an end and making way for something more content and peaceful. She placed a hand on the closed door and carefully pushed it open, finally revealing to herself who was on the other side, her jaw dropping slightly as she saw her mother, still in her evening gown, sitting at the piano bench. 

She had one hand resting on her lap, the other carrying the soft simple melody, her head hung low. 

Francesca bit her lip, she thought it would be safe to assume that perhaps the reason she had come back to the piano after so many years of not having played may have something to do with her. Maybe even more so their argument earlier that evening. 

She hesitantly made her way further into the room, careful not to startle or disturb her mother, her feet treading lightly on the ground. When she came closer, almost to the bench, in the middle of a phrase her mother stopped, her fingers still pressing the keys in a minor chord. It was a moment or two before she removed her hand. 

She knew Francesca was standing there.

Francesca pressed her lips into a thin line, pushing away her hurt for a moment and coming to sit on the small space left on the bench beside her.

Violet looked up at Francesca, noticing she was no longer in her dress, only a simple nightgown, her hair tucked behind both ears, a soft look in her eyes. 

Francesca looked over at her mother just as she looked away from her, seeing the evidence of tears that stained her cheeks. 

A lump formed in Francesca’s throat at the sight. She opened her mouth and closed it, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. 

She heard Violet sniffle, but the sound was followed by a note. 

Surprised, Francesca looked down and saw her mother’s fingers resting again on the keys. They played three notes in sequence that Francesca would recognize anywhere. 

She looked up at her mother who had paused to look at her. Into her eyes first, then at her hands. A suggestion. 

Francesca lifted her hands, fingers resting comfortably on the keys in the upper octaves while her mother took the lower ones, playing the first few notes again, Francesca easily finding her rhythm and joining in. It was a simple song, not quite the things she would venture playing now, but one of her favourites from the early days of her lessons. 

She had learnt the basics from watching Daphne with her tutor and would come and practice early in the morning before anyone was awake. 

Her mother among the rest of her family had noticed this, but she was always the one who humoured her the most. More than humouring her, she encouraged her. 

She remembered distinctly one morning, the rest of the house fast asleep when she came as usual, finding the piano bench from where Anthony had hidden it, picking it up with her small hands and moving it to the front of the piano, climbing up and sitting in front of the keys, looking down with wide eyes.

She hadn’t noticed initially, but her mother was awake, likely due to some discomfort from her sibling they had yet to meet, and had come and joined Francesca by the piano, picking her up despite her surprise and sitting down herself on the bench and placing her on her lap.

Francesca could see her expression so clearly, a small laugh escaping Violet’s lips as she saw Francesca’s confusion. She could feel her mother’s enlarged stomach against her back, her confusion soon overshadowed by the feeling of her mother’s lips against her forehead. 

Wordlessly, Violet took Francesca’s hands and placed them over top of her own, showing her a progression of notes. 

Francesca watched so intently as her mother guided her through the steps of the song, eagerly stopping her as soon as she was done, swatting her hands away and listening to her gentle laugh echo through the room as Francesca demonstrated what she could do. 

Violet was thoroughly impressed with her daughter, barely fumbling even though she didn’t have any notes in front of her, retaining everything she had shown her only moments earlier. 

With another kiss to her cheek, she encouraged Francesca to play it again, her hands moving to the lower octave as she began and adding the lower harmony and bass line for the duet. 

Francesca giggled with glee as her mother joined in, the sounds melding together creating some sort of sweet sensation in her heart. 

Violet nuzzled her face into her daughter’s neck in front of her, tickling her and making her mess up which came with a whine of protest until her mother whispered three little words in her ear along with three more notes on the piano. A chord. And all was calm. 

As they played the duet over the years Francesca had added her embellishments, turning it into something new each time they sat down, using it as a way to show her mother what she had learnt all those hours practicing and with a tutor.

And yet, this time as they played, Francesca’s fingers danced only over those same keys her mother had taught her the very first time around. Stripped of extravagances, of the complications of musical theory and creative composition. 

Violet had played this duet so many times it was muscle memory at this point. Her role never changed while Francesca’s evolved, but hearing those same simple notes, the smallest thing from the start of her journey on the piano, threatened to bring tears to Violet’s eyes once more, because maybe through the silence, or rather, the music, Francesca understood. Maybe she understood that Violet had never meant to hurt her, that her happiness was all that mattered in the end, and she was still trying to navigate and learn how to best be a mother to her children who were growing up far too quickly. Maybe Francesca understood she was only human. 

As the song came to a close, Violet hesitated, not wanting the moment to end, clinging to this point in time where she could communicate with her daughter, where she felt as though they finally understood each other even if it was only amongst notes where everything remained unsaid. 

Francesca noticed her mother’s hesitation, unable to play the last notes, so she finished her melody and made one exception. She added a small flourish to the end, the last notes travelling down until they reached that special chord. 

One. Two. Three. 

I. Love. You. 

Violet chewed on her lip and looked up at her daughter, her hand finally able to move from where it was frozen, repeating the notes at a lower octave until they became a chord. 

Francesca found herself still looking down at the keys, her mind fixed on the sound of that chord, trying to feel everything that came from it. Because to her no matter what song, no matter what circumstance, playing or listening, that chord felt like her mother’s embrace, her mother’s kiss, her mother’s love. 

And just as she was about to pull away to go back to sleep, she felt a gentle hand on her arm, pulling her in until she was engulfed in warmth. Arms that, when wrapped around her, made her feel like she was five again sitting on her mother’s lap, protected by her as she did what she adored. 

Next she felt the soft press of lips to the crown of her head, lips that lingered and were a balm to every wound Francesca had ever endured. 

And though all of that, most of all, she felt that love. The love that constantly radiated off of Violet and spilled down over to her children and reminded Francesca that it had always been there, even through their disagreements, even when they couldn’t understand each other, it was as unwavering and sustained as a fermata. 

Francesca didn’t wish to move. Staying in her mother’s arms is what felt most comfortable and Violet wasn’t inclined to let go. Instead, she began to run a hand through her daughter’s hair, smoothing out any stray strands, creating some sort of excuse in her mind to continue to treat her daughter like the small child she remembered her to be, even if only for a few moments before she eventually married and left her for good. 

But Violet knew she had to let go and so did Francesca. 

Even if neither of them liked it, they pulled apart and Violet took one last moment to look at her daughter, to cradle her face in her hand, to admire how much she had grown in such a short time. She squished her cheek just like she would when she was little and Francesca couldn’t hold back the smile that came across her lips at the action. 

When it was time for them to leave, Francesca took her mother’s hand from her face and instead intertwined it with hers, standing up and leading the way out of the drawing room. 

Violet’s hand moved from being intertwined with Francesca’s to holding her close to her side, her arm outstretched over her back and Francesca leaned her head against her mother’s shoulder knowing whatever came next, as long as they were playing a duet, everything would be just fine.

[queenie-official]

Chapter Fifteen: ‘Meet the Family’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

previous chapter: 14

the royal heart series masterlist

a/n: please i feel so bad for making you all wait so long for these chapters 😭 like i am so sorry i’ve got not excuse for not writing sooner tbh 💀 i just kept getting stuck binge watching stuff instead of doing this😀 but anyway this is like my big makeup to you all 🫶🏼

waking up to the feeling of Anakin’s warm bare skin against your back as he hugs you from behind was definitely one that you could get used to. what you didn’t want to have to get used to was that moment being interrupted.

a string of knocks on your bedroom door pulled you out of the morning bliss, it was time to start the day and to wake up fully. Anakin seemed to be a deep sleeper, his soft snores still coming from behind you as the knocks continued. with a reluctant sigh you turn to face him, knowing you’d have to be the one to wake him.

he looked so pretty like this, golden rays from the morning sun adding an extra warmth to his tan skin. it felt wrong to disturb the peaceful atmosphere of it all.

“Anakin” you call his name softly, while beginning to gently shake him awake. it takes a few moments before he finally starts to stir, his nose scrunching up as he shifts in the spot releasing his hold on you as he does. Anakin’s eyes flutter open, squinting slightly as his vision adjusts. “morning?” he says through a yawn before directing his attention to the knocks on the door.

typically a royal isn’t usually disturbed when they sleep, instead the rest of the castle staff must wait to be called on for their day to begin. so the fact that someone- most likely Braeden, was directly trying to get your attention meant whatever news they had was urgent.

free of Anakin’s embrace you shyly stand up to put on your robe. you could feel his eyes follow your every movement, it made you flush. he’d seen all of you last night but this felt different for some reason.

carefully pulling on your robe and tying it shut you go to open the door, cracking it just enough for only you to be seen. it’s not like you had to hide the fact you slept with the king, he was your husband after all but he was also still naked in your bed. so for his own decency you made sure he wasn’t in view.

sure enough there was Braeden and rex too, both Valets stood side by side looking down to you. “is everything alright?” you ask with a quirk of your head.

“yes everything is fine your majesty, it’s just we’ve received word that the Skywalkers will be arriving today instead of tomorrow-” Braeden begins only for Rex to interrupt him “not just today but any moment now.” your eyes go wide at the news, all the worries from yesterday beginning to flow back at once. you felt your stomach twist from nerves.

“right well i must get ready then, can you send for Eleanora?” Braeden nods and walks off to go get your lady-in-waiting. you now had very limited time to get ready and mentally prepare yourself for meeting everyone you think to yourself while closing the door as you step back inside the room fully.

Anakin was up and had thrown his clothes back on from the night prior. “i should go get ready as well” he says while walking up to you and wrapping his arms around you when he sees the slight panicked look to your expression. you reciprocate the hug instantly, taking a deep breath and breathing his scent in. “it’s going to be okay, you’ll do great besides you’ve already met my mother and Obi-Wan. that’s two people down” he tried to reassure you, gently rubbing one of his hands up and down your back as he speaks.

“it’s not their opinion of me i’m concerned about” you sigh, groaning slightly in annoyance. Anakin can’t help but laugh, gently taking your chin into his hand and guiding you to look at him.

“Ahsoka isn’t going to bite you y/n” you can see him fighting back a big smile, doing his best to remain serious and not laugh again. you pout at his statement, obviously she wasn’t going to bite you- but it wasn’t like she was going to go out of her way to be nice to you either.

you had a feeling she’d make her opinion known without really holding back, you could only hope to win her over. though the likelihood of you two being in the same room long enough to spend time and clear the air was low considering everything you would have to do in order to finish preparations for tomorrow in time. not even during the day itself would you be able to spend much time with her, you’d be busy hosting alongside Anakin.

Anakin leans in and kisses your pouty lips, it was quick but he went back for a second one. then a third and forth, he didn’t stop until you were smiling. pulling away gently with his victory as the door to the room opened, Eleanora standing idly in the doorframe. she froze briefly for a moment before she realized she was interrupting a moment.

just before she could turn away Anakin raised his hand up to stop her, silently letting her know it was okay before he turned back to you. “i’ll see you when you’re done” he smiles at you one more time before heading out, Eleanora giving him a brief bow as he passed by her.

“did he sleep in here?” she asks happily, her curiosity getting the best of her as she closed the door. both of you beginning the usual routine of getting you dressed and ready for the day.

“he did” you answer her with a smile and she gives you a look, you could tell exactly what she was trying to ask you without asking. you didn’t answer though and that was enough for her to know exactly what’d gone down.

“well i’m glad you and the king are getting along so well, it’s a refreshing contrast to the worry you had when Barclay and Valorum first paired you together” She says while combing through your hair, working on styling it just how you liked it. the mention of Valorum made your nose wrinkle, yet another thing you’d pushed out of your mind thanks to Anakin, now brought back to light.

“yes well i guess this was the best outcome we could of had from this whole ordeal.” you sigh as pin after pin is inserted into your hair to keep the style neat and in place. “has Barclay seemed off to you as well Eleanora?” you ask curiously, he’d been so nice to you lately. too nice, practically sucking up to you. as far as you were aware he wasn’t involved in your fathers death, Valorum would of called him out just as he’d done with the other royal council members. so the sudden switch up was definitely suspicious to you.

“i’m not entirely sure your majesty, though i can say he definitely seems plagued.” that perked your interest immensely, what did Barclay have to worry about? he lived in the castle so no need for financial worries, and as far as you knew he had no family. his mother died giving birth to him, his father was alive but they weren’t close. he was an only child and unmarried.

“plagued?” you ask as she slips on your corset, adjusting it accordingly before she begins to tighten the laces. “yes he often looks distraught, paranoid even” you felt your heart sink then.

“you would tell me if you heard anything right?” you can’t help but ask, turning your head to see behind you where she stands. you knew you could trust her, but the possibility of a betrayal wormed its way into your head. you begin to twist the ring on your finger as she begins to layer your petticoats. a small frown on her face as she looks at you “of course your majesty”

you nod at her reassurance, forcing yourself to relax. one problem at a time you tell yourself whilst taking a deep breath in.

Anakin gently grasps your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. a silent reminder he was right here with you as you two walked to the main staircase of the castle towards the foyer. his family arriving seconds ago, he was excited. the smile on his face hadn’t faded since earlier, his happiness was contagious. you could imagine exactly how he felt- if you could see your parents again you’d be just as elated.

the main doors to the castle swing open, voices now filling the room as you both come to halt in front of the source. there they all were in the flesh, your eyes scanned over each person listing them off in your head, Queen Shmi, King Qui-Gon, Prince Obi-Wan… you pause when you land on the face you’d been most anxious to meet. Princess Ahsoka, she was beautiful. long dark brown hair, with wide dark brown eyes to match.

you felt Anakin’s hand leave yours as he pulled his mother into a hug, and that’s when you’d noticed she was staring at you just as you’d been her. her brows were slightly furrowed, you couldn’t tell if that was out of discontent or just her being unsure. either way it made that panic you pushed down rise again.

moving your hands behind your back and twisting the ring on your finger as you forced a happy content smile on your face. standing awkwardly to the side as each member of the family greeting Anakin.

“i’m shocked you didn’t want to hug me first” Anakin’s teasing voice rung in your ears as he finally greeted the little girl who shifted her attention to her older brother. a bright smile now adorning her lips as she hugged him tightly. “have you missed me that much?” he laughed at how tight her hug was but didn’t hesitate to return the sentiment.

“yea right, i’ve been enjoying my time away from you” she says with a roll of her eyes as she pulls away from him. for a moment you thought she was being serious her tone of voice sure made it seem that way. but then you noticed the same little lit to it hidden behind the monotone, the same way Anakin speaks when he’s being sarcastic. you couldn’t help the genuine smile that grew on your lips from the realization- he wasn’t joking when he said she was his star pupil. poor Obi-Wan definitely hadn’t caught a break.

“oh please i bet you’ve been miserable” he jokes, and you can see something flash in Ahsoka’s eyes before she scoffs and swats the hand away that’s going straight towards her head to ruffle her hair.

“if anyone’s been miserable it’s me” Obi-Wan pipes up, rubbing one of his temples in annoyance. pulling both siblings attention over to him, it was adorable. both of them making the same exact confused face without even knowing it. “with you gone there’s no one to occupy her, and i feel like i’m being targeted twice as much as i used to” he huffs and a smug smile appears on Anakin’s face.

“good then she’s doing just as i taught her” he says proudly and Obi-Wan rolls his eyes in annoyance. their parents laugh as the siblings continue to squabble, it was entertaining to watch for sure but it also made you feel a bit alienated.

like you where intruding in a personal moment, the urge to slip away was strong but the idea was easier said then done. thankfully for you Shmi noticed your silence and nudged you gently with her elbow.

“they’re ridiculous don’t you think” she giggles and you smile back. your heart warming as she made sure you were included.

of course all good things had to come to an end, and as Barclay approached you with a bunch of papers you were quickly reminded of that. this was one of the downfalls of them coming a day early, you almost wished you could push it off and continue to spend time with them. get to know the people who gave you the man you learned to love. but then the race and ball would never come to a fruition.

“your majesty” Barclay calls out to you drawing the attention of everyone in the room. he gives a quick bow in greeting to the others before focusing on you, holding out a few papers. you could feel one pair of eyes in particular bore into you sticking out from the rest of the room but tried to ignore it. “we have to get these last few details for the ball finalized and then there’s still-”you cut him off by holding up your hand, and unlike how he usually would continue on anyway he obeys the silent command.

“it was good to see you all again, and too meet you king Qui-Gon and Princess Ahsoka” you begin while turning towards everyone else. “we’ll have to catch up some other time” you add while gesturing towards Barclay. they all nod in understanding and Anakin walks over to join you, you feel a pang of guilt when he does. he’d just gotten to reunite with his family and is already having to pull away from them.

“Ani you should stay” you say quietly, voice low enough for only him to hear. he raises a brow at you, stopping right at your side. “i can handle the rest of the preparations, you should be with your family” it’s silent between you two a wordless debate happening. obviously he wanted to be with his family but he did not want to leave everything on you either, he’d promised he would stay by your side and he intended to keep that promise. but of course you’re just as stubborn and knew that you could in fact handle the rest on your own. he should enjoy the day catching up with his family, this was a rare time they’d all be in one place and he should take advantage of it.

finally with a sigh he relents, gently grabbing your hand and pulling you a bit closer to him. pressing a kiss to your forehead. “thank you” he whispers before pulling away and giving you a smile walking back towards his family. confused looks grew on his family’s faces when he’d turned back to them, clearly unsure what was going on but when you walked away with Barclay it was obvious what had gone down.

you decided to take one last glance back only to meet a pair of brown eyes who’d already been doing the same. you could only wonder what was running through his little sisters mind.

part 16

Tag List: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss @bimbo-baggins86 @iluvanakinskywalker @bby-imasociopath @curlycarley @burnthecheshirewitch @misscaller06 @sweetcheesecakesblog

alright 🥰 there’s the next part, side note i thought i could break the chapter up into just two more parts after 14 but that is not the case 😀 so i think you guys are going to be getting all the way up to chapter 17👀 anyway what do yall think of the family dynamic going on with the skywalkers 😋

[tilly-tilly-2827]

Spirited Away

Cannon divergence of An Offer from a Gentleman #1

Synopsis: “When I come back around, will I know what to say?” Or what if Sophie became pregnant with Charlie after the couch scene? What if Sophie agreed to be Benedict’s mistress for the sake of her son? What if Benedict never resisted the rules of the ton?

The darkest timeline of AOFAG; inspired by Billy Eilish’s “CHIHIRO”.

AO3 post from here!

“I’m getting married next month.”

When Benedict murmured those words against her neck, Sophie felt nothing. Nothing at all. Perhaps Benedict thought she would start crying, or at least, emotionally disturbed, because he began to stroke her curls as if soothing her from the nonexistent pain.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Sophie listened to the ticking of the clock.

“But, nothing is going to change between us, my love. In my heart, you are already my wife,”

Staring through the half-opened window, Sophie noticed that the moon was exceptionally well-lit that night,

“Which young lady is going to be Mrs. Benedict Bridgerton?”

“Ms. Stowell.” Benedict sighed as he tightened his arms around Sophie’s small waist, feeling her soft smooth skin against his, “Dolores Stowell.”

“Please send my regards.”

“Sophie, Sophie, Sophie,” Benedict tried to roll her to his side, wanting to look into her eyes, but her grip on the sheets was too tight, “You knew I had to marry someday,”

“I know.”

“Mother and Anthony were pinching me to marry. I thought I should get it over with,”

“I understand.”

“Aren’t you jealous, Sophie?”

“Do you want me to be jealous?”

Yes, his pathetic answer almost strumbled from his lips. He half wanted her to scream and cry in hysterics, begging him to marry her instead. If she were in fits of anger and jealousy, Benedict could hold her tight and smooth her, whispering love into her ears until she calmed down and slept peacefully in his arms.

But Sophie only lay there motionless, emotionless.

Silence crept up in the spacious townhouse on St. Johns Street. Only the peaceful sounds of Charlie snoring from the nursery could they hear.

“Do you know how much I love you, Sophie?.” Benedict covered his hands over Sophie’s clenched fists. Trailing her delicate, cold fingertips. “I love you, Sophie.”

“I know.”

“Only you.”

“I know.”

At the break of dawn, Sophie felt Benedict slip away from the covers, the gentle waves of the mattresses waking up from her doze. On any other day, Sophie would wake up and send him off with a kiss, but that day, Sophie just couldn’t bring herself to do so.

She kept her eyes shut as Benedict placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, his hands lingering on her golden curls. Then, she heard a small click on the door; Benedict was so careful not to make a sound. Making sure that Sophie and Charlie would stay in their sweet dreams of their own.

Life as Benedict’s mistress wasn’t as horrible as she had imagined. It wasn’t horrible, in fact, it might be the life she had once dreamed of.

Even before Charlie was born, Benedict visited the townhouse every day with flowers in his hand, a basket of apples and pears she had craved during her pregnancy. He didn’t sleep for three days and held her hand tightly as she screamed and moaned in pain, the birth of Charlie Bridgerton had been long and painful. Both in tears and sweat, he had burst into tears of joy when the midwife handed the little baby in his arms, telling him with a smile that it was a healthy boy. Sophie had also shed tears as she watched Benedict sing lullabies while cradling little Charlie, knowing that perhaps, she had not foolishly repeated the tragedy of her mother. Unlike Sophie, Charlie was loved by his father. Unlike her mother, she was loved. Sophie knew that nothing could be better.

Almost every day, Benedict would come home from his studio at five o’clock, and Benedict would ask how her day was as she cooked supper for three, and chatted over their dinner plates. Benedict would play with Charlie as he tumbled on his lap, and after tucking in his son with a lullaby and a kiss on the forehead, Benedict would wrap Sophie in his warm arms, murmuring sweet love in her ears. Some nights were spent with cups of tea and suppressed giggles, talking and laughing away about Charlie, paintings, poems, and books. Sometimes nothing at all, talking absolute nonsense for hours and hours. Some nights were spent inside Benedict’s arms, waltzing around the room, dancing and twirling to the gentle sound of the music box. Some nights were spent with hushed voices, Benedict worshiping every part of her with his body and soul. Feeling the intense heat on her, inside her, Sophie knew that she was loved.

Sometimes, Benedict would take Sophie and Charlie to the park, and the three would have a picnic on the freshly cut grass, laughing as Charlie rolled on the grass chasing butterflies. Benedict would doze off in the armchair beside the fireplace with Charlie in his arms, Charlie snoring happily with the exact same drop of his eyebrows. It was astonishing how the two resembled each other, and Sophie had to chuckle when Charlie gave her the same crooked grin as Benedict when he was up to mischief.

Sometimes, Benedict would take the two to Wiltshire, where Sophie could roam around the village without fearing being seen by the other Bridgertons. Charlie would burst into fits of laughter as Benedict softly tickled his stomach inside their carriage. Mr. And Mrs. Crabtree would coo and cuddle Charlie without any questions, Charlie enjoying the undivided attention he was getting from the elderly couple.

Charlie giggled happily on Sophie’s lap as Benedict gently pushed her from the back, on the swings he had made on the cherry tree. The three would take walks in the countryside, Benedict carrying the snoring Charlie on his back.

“I love a good party,”

“I would hardly call this a party, Benedict.”

Sophie laughed as Benedict brought her hand to his lips,

“My most favorite party of three, my love,”

Walking arm in arm, Benedict would steal kisses from her every corner.

It was almost like the married life with Benedict she had always dreamed of. Almost.

True, Benedict missed Charlie’s first birthday because of the queen ball. True, they couldn’t spend Easter and Christmas together, he would be away in Audrey Hall with his family, and sometimes Benedict would show up at the door drunk and wasted, presumably after an opera or a ball. But even those moments were precious, sobering him up with a glass of water, and cooking chicken soup for his hangover the next morning. Softly caressing his curls as he groaned like a bear, Sophie would gently wake him up with a kiss, acting like a loving, dedicated wife. And he would playfully pull her into their beds, nuzzling his lips on her neck,

Sophie knew that she was already Benedict’s dirty secret, and with Benedict being in the sacrament of marriage; her presence, Charlie’s presence was going to become more unscrupulous than ever.

But all the abundant love that Benedict had poured into Sophie and Charlie had made her believe in the illusion of bliss and happiness.

The next day, Benedict knocked on the door at five o’clock sharp, just as usual. With a crooked smile and a bouquet of Lilly of the Valleys in his hands.

“How was your day, my love?”

“Papa!”

Charlie’s face lighted up into a cheeky smile seeing his loving father at the door, reaching his arms up for a hug. Benedict picked up Charlie from the carpet with ease and nuzzed him playfully with his nose. The identical, scrunched smiles on their faces.

“Tickles!”

“Were you being a good boy to Mama?”

A little more, Sophie thought to herself. Let me stay in this illusion a little more,

Carrying Charlie adoringly in his arms as if nothing had happened. Giving her a small kiss on the cheeks as if nothing had changed. Undoing the laces of her nightgown, whispering her name as if his fiancée had never existed.

“Sophie,”

It was barely audible, but she heard the familiar name murmured against her neck. It had happened several times in their marital bed, but no, she wasn’t going to question the integrity of her husband, her mother had taught her better than that. And somehow, his desperate tone always sent shivers down her spine; a tingling sinful sensation.

Normally, it would begin with slow practical strokes. Next, he would rub her core until her breath became more shallow and short, and he would stop when she fell apart in his hands, arching her back into a gasp. His strokes would become faster and deeper after that, and after he spilled inside her, he would neatly clean her up with a towel and gently pull the sheets over her naked body.

“Good night,” He would say, leaving a small peck on her cheeks. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

After wrapping himself in a silk robe, he would clean his hands with the basin, using a small brush to scrub his nails. The lingering smell of their sex mixed with the fresh scent of lemon and soap.

Then he would leave. Closing the door of her bedroom.

In a few minutes, she would hear her husband order a bath for one. Then she would smell the burning cigarettes from the window, her husband indulging in the filthy habit in the outside garden. Throwing the burned-out cigarette on her well-polished Italian tiles.

Then she would hear the carriage coming from the distance, and she would hear two clicks on the door. One heavy click of the entrance door. One light click of the carriage door.

Then she would be all alone in the house.

Life with Benedict Bridgerton was supposed to be a dream come true. It was a dream come true, it truly was.

Benedict Bridgerton had been listed as the most eligible bachelor for years, and she always loved the way he smiled, the way he danced, the way he talked, charming everyone in the room. With his tall broad figure and his crooked teasing smile, she always thought he was the handsomest in the prosperous Bridgerton Brothers.

Her parents had been over the moon about the courtship, and although it puzzled both her and her mother why Benedict had suddenly started to show interest in her after spending years avoiding her like a plague, she liked how he courted her with fragrant flowers and sweet chocolates, the charming smile only given exclusively for her.

In three weeks he proposed to her and they were engaged. In a month they were married, and Benedict had taken her to Italy for their honeymoon; traveling through Venice, Rome, beautiful cottage around the Amalfi Coast. She had felt rather smug walking around the city with a handsome man by her side, taking her to extravagant palaces, balls, art galleries, and beaches. And she did enjoy the intercourses at night, “the marital duties” her mother had taught her. She was surprised at how much she enjoyed it; given her sister’s comments about “utter pain and discomfort for five minutes.” Benedict was kind and gentle, showing her the newfound pleasures and sensations. She loved how he touched her, with his warm, soft hands. She wanted his hands to stay there, forever,

But after a month, they returned to Maddison Manor, a relatively large place in London, a place her father had given them for their residence. She was disappointed that he insisted on having separate bedrooms, but she knew he was a shallow sleeper, he seemed quite sleep-deprived during their honeymoon.

“Go back to bed,” He would gently say to her when she woke up in the middle of the night, feeling the cold sheets on her fingertips. Finding her newlywed husband on the couch, fervently writing something on a piece of paper. “Go back to sleep,”

“Aren’t you coming with me, dear husband?” She would ask, gently undoing the knot of her gown, but her husband would only chuckle, putting the robes back to her shoulders.

“Can’t sleep,” he would say, “I’ll join you later,”

But she would often find him snoring on the couch the next morning.

Back at the Maddison Manor, the two shared breakfast on weekdays, exchanging the plans for the day. He would normally leave for his art studio at 9:00, and on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, Benedict would have dinner with her; the other days he had appointments with his other family members and the other artists in the studio.

What surprised her about Benedict was that he was a man of routine. Hearing discreet rumors about his bohemian tendencies, she thought he would be slovenly; perhaps lazy and sloppy.

But he was quite the opposite. He would diligently attend the invitations of balls, operas, and musicals, and dance two waltzes with her at every ball.

“Such a wonderful husband,” Her friends would tell her jealously*, “I haven’t seen my husband for three months.”*

He would decline her invitation to social events once in three times. He would come home every day at five-thirty in the morning. He would come to her room at ten o’clock in the evening every Tuesday and leave at eleven o’clock. Once every two months, he would go on a two-week trip with his artist friends, to an outdoor sketch in the countryside. Returning home with souvenirs; oysters from Whitstable, pottery from Middleport, and beautiful engraved signet rings from Kent.

Sweet honey from Wiltshire.

The night of his return, he would give her not one but two orgasms, and kiss her twice on the lips, but she would only taste whiskey and cigarettes. And he would wash his hands, take a bath, smoke, and leave. Like a clockwork soldier.

She should be happy. She lived in a beautiful house with a handsome husband, who fulfilled every aspect of his marital duties. She had wonderful in-laws, (although they were rather too bustling for her liking) and if she was lucky, she would be blessed with a baby sooner or later.

She wondered if Benedict would start to love her if she gave him a son. She wondered if Benedict would stop cleaning his hands if they had children together. If he would stay in her bed for a whole night. If he would open the door to her bedroom every night.

Lost in thoughts, hours and hours passed by as she sat by the windowsill.

Waiting.

She never really liked going in the servant's Kitchen. Nothing, nobody in the room was particularly familiar to her, and the smallness and the stuffiness of the room was disorienting, sometimes making her dizzy and sick. But she did have to consult the cook with the dishes for the upcoming Bridgerton Ball, she knew that the sooner she finished the conversation, the sooner she would be able to leave the awful pace.

“Excuse me, I’m afraid Mary forgot to deliver these,”

But just as she was about the room, a woman came rushing into the small kitchen, carrying a bundle of sheets. Judging from her shabby dress and ash stained face, she was probably one of the washerwomen, carrying a little child behind her back. She did look rather pretty, she thought, a certain glow within her some women often carried, but the little child was breathtaking, with almond green eyes, long eyelashes, angelic brown curls that, that, that, that, that,

“Oh, my deepest apologies,” She widened her eyes in surprise, dropping into a hastily cutusy, “Sheets, my lady, cleaned and ironed.”

“Ah, Ms. Beckett. I did wonder why Mary’s bundles were so small today,” Mrs. Lindon, the housekeeper said briskly, “Excellent quality as always.”

But just as the housekeeper shooed her off in the streets, she found herself grabbing the washerwoman’s wrists.

Because she knew those brown curls,

“Such a beautiful boy,” She said.

The mother’s puzzled look turned into a warm smile, and she gently laid her hands on the boy’s chubby cheeks, plump and reddened like a ripe autumn apple.

So well nourished, she thought.

She slightly dipped her head to look into the boy’s eyes, but he suddenly buried his head on his mother’s shoulders, hiding from her gaze.

Both the women and Mrs. Lindon chuckled.

“My apologies again, Madam. He’s quite shy around people at the first time,” “How old is he?”

“A year and five months, my lady.”

“And another one coming up, I hear?” Mrs. Lindon added with a bantering tone, and the washerwomen returned a weak smile, a slight weary look in her eyes.

She suddenly noticed that the woman was rather slim compared to the baby she carried, her cheeks slightly hollowed and her color was slightly off, her shoulders terribly delicate. Burnt marks on her thin arms, and blistered fingertips. But she had beautiful honey-colored locks, bright-colored eyes that loomed too large for her face,

“Name?”

“Pardon?”

“His name,”

“Oh, Charles, my lady.” The woman replied, “But we normally call him Charlie,”

“Charles.”

The little boy was now focused on his mother’s golden curls, giggling as he played with the bouncing ringlets,

With That crooked, charming smile,

“Don’t you have a nanny?”

“...I.”

“To look after him?”

“I do look after him, My lady.”

“Do you?”

She stared at the young toddler’s tiny palm, the little burn mark on his left hand, a little bandage wrapped around his right. She reached out to take the boy in her arms, but the washerwoman suddenly staggered back, a slight fear and guilt in her eyes.

“I must be going,” She said hastily, “Good day to you, my lady.”

And the women rushed out of the room. But the little boy turned his head softly as the mother reached the door, a crooked smile and a small wave,

The same cheeky smile that she always loved,

But she wasn’t going to let him go with just that smile.

“Opium. Benedict. Opiums. You told me you would stop,”

“Dearest, there was the Smythe-smith musical last night.” Benedict pouted his lips playfully, battering his eyebrows, and not a drop of remorse in his tone, “How do you think I could bear the night without them?”

With a crooked grin, Benedict snaked his hands around Sophie’s waist, his lips nuzzling the nape of her neck, “I wouldn’t have needed them if you were there for distraction,”

“Benedict, I’m being serious,”

“So am I, my love. So serious, ”

As Benedict’s hands traveled to the hems of her skirts, she slapped his hands off, stepping away from his clutch.

“Benedict, we need to talk,”

“But it’s been ages, my love.” He again pulled her in his arms, nibbling her earlobes, “I didn’t send Charlie to Mrs. Crabtrees for no reason,”

“So you wouldn’t have to worry about our son accidentally taking in any of your special tea?” His hands squeezing on her bosoms froze, and Sophie peeled herself away, turning around to face him with a scowl.

“I didn’t know that it was in my jacket, Sophie!” Benedict groaned weakly, flopping down in an armchair. “Sophie, I’m sorry I accidentally brought them here,”

“No, Benedict. I am not asking for apologies.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“Benedict, I know what those are, what they do to you,”

With a soft sigh, Sophie gently paced herself on his lap, curing up on the armchair with him. She ran her fingers through his curls, but Benedict didn’t quite look into her eyes, wringing his hands in his lap.

“Why tea again, Benedict? Tell me,”

“The Smyth-Smith musical is more terrible than you could ever imagine, Sophie.”

“No, Benedict.”

Sophie saw him bite his lips as if he were afraid to let something wicked slip out.

“It’s just...stressful. Balls. Garden parties. Promenades. Dorl...everything.”His shoulders deflating, Benedict buried his face in her shoulders, “ I want to stay with you. Always. With Charlie. All the time.”

“Then stay,” Sophie said softly. “Stay with me.”

“I...I can not,”

“Why?”

“...I’m married,”

It was a terrible answer, Benedict knew instantly as the words lurched from his mouth unconsciously. Sophie visually grew stiff on his lap, but she quickly averted her gaze to the fireplace. Despite the cracking fire, Benedict noticed that there was no color on her face,

“I cannot cope with anymore,”

“Sophie,“

Benedict tried to grab her skirts as she stepped away from his lap, but failed miserably, almost slipping out from his chair. Sophie meaninglessly took a cloth from the table, wiping the pot Benedict had washed an hour earlier.

“What do you want from me, Benedict?”

Sophie refused to look at him, her hands working on the cool iron surface,

“Sophie, I only want you,”

“But am I not making your life miserable? You wouldn’t have gone back to your special tea if Charlie and I didn’t exist.”

“No, don’t say that Sophie,”

Benedict gently took the pot from her hands, placing it back on the upper shelf.

“I don’t understand you, Benedict.”

Sophie looked at him, the man who had been her prince charming, the man who had saved her, the man that she fell in love with, the man who poured so much love into her,

She tightened her grip on the cloth.

“You told me that you were going to get married to gain freedom. So that the eligible debutants and their mamas wouldn’t hunt you down anymore. That you could be free from the rules of the society. Yet, ever since you got married, you are more trapped than ever. Trapped in the cycle of Balls, musicals, parties, operas,”

“Sophie, I must fulfill,”

“I thought you married to escape from those duties. To be with me and Charlie.” Sophie continued softy, “I don’t understand what you are trying to do,”

Benedict suddenly stood up from his chair. But as he took steps towards her, Sophie could sense he was contemplating every step. When he finally reached her, standing by the kitchen window, He tried to put his arms around her shoulders, but Sophie brushed it off yet again.

The two stared at each other in silence, and Sophie noticed that there was cold darkness in his green-grey eyes she had never seen,

“Do you know what, Sophie?” Sophie saw Benedict clench his fists. “It’s you whom I don’t understand.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you’ve been working at the laundry.”

Benedict started to edge her to the wall, Sophie staggering back, a knock on the head as she reached the end. Benedict loomed over her, his tone in a hushed whisper. “I know all your secrets, Sophie. Didn’t you think I would find out where you keep your worker’s rags?”

Benedict suddenly grabbed her arms, pulling them up to her eyes, his tone was suddenly different; cold but laced with impatience.

“And didn’t you think I wouldn’t notice your hands and arms getting burnt and blistered every day?”

Sophie yanked her arms from his embrace, but he caught them again, aggressively pinning her wrists against the wall. Sophie cursed her height, no, she cursed her own body, no matter how she tried, Benedict had everything to overpower her,

The only defiance was to not look into his eyes, the ones she knew were firing up in fury,

“Sophie, what do you want me to do?”

Yet his tone turned weak, submissive, almost as if he were begging for mercy,

“I’ll give you everything you want. Everything. Everything. Why do you keep working Sophie? Making yourself suffer in service,”

“Because I don’t want to sit idly in the room only waiting for my lover to come home,” Sophie hissed, yes she was still pinned to the wall but she could still glare at him,

“Do you know how pathetic that is, Benedict? Spending the precious time of life only thinking when her lover is coming back, like some kind of mistress,”

“But you are,” Benedict said quietly.

“I had no choice,” Sophie muttered. “If it weren’t for Charles, I would have killed myself.”

“No, Don’t say that Sophie.”

His eyebrows scrunched as if in pain, Benedict softened his grip on her wrists and on that brief second, Sophie pushed him by the shoulders, away from his captivity.

Benedict just stood there as Sophie began to prepare tea rather violently, putting the kettle on the stove, and grabbing the tea-set from the cupboards. Benedict hated how the china’s clattered, even the rattling of the kettle was fuming his frustration,

“You told me not to tell lies, Benedict.”

“And this is the truth.”

“...Then just stop working at the laundry. Please, Sophie. I’m begging you. If you need more money I could give you more,”

“It’s not about the money, Benedict,”

“Then what is it about?”

“My goddamn pride, Benedict!”

Sophie realized that she was about to slam the teacup she held in her hands, smashing the fine china on the brown chipped tiles. Benedict would cut his hand cleaning out the glass splinters scattered on the floor,

Sophie took a deep breath.

Breathe, Sophie, breathe.

“Why are you suddenly condemning me, Benedict?” Sophie asked quietly. “I started working months ago, and a smart gentleman like you would have noticed much earlier. Suddenly you’re asking me why. Why Benedict? Why?”

“It’s not good for Charles.”

“I don’t understand,”

“I first thought that while you were working, Ms. Hudson was looking after Charles. But just a few days ago, when I asked her if she needed additional money for the diapers, she told me that you take Charlie to work.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that. I’m his mother, Benedict, and I want to take care of him,”

“Think rationally, Sophie.” Benedict’s tone was starting to become impatient, tapping his fingers on the wall, “You possibly don’t think it’s good for Charlie,”

“Why so?”

“The environment, Sophie, the environment! Don’t you understand? There are chemicals, hot water, and other dangerous objects. It's not a place for a child, especially not for a toddler. And I’ve never gone down those parts of the city, but I don’t want Charles to be influenced by,”

“The other fallen women in the factory and their other illegitimate children?”

“Sophie, the place is dangerous,” Ignoring Sophie’s last question, Benedict’s voice changed into a desperate plea. “I don’t want you or Charlie to get hurt,”

“You’ve already hurt me enough, Benedict.”

“But I gave you everything Sophie, a flat, dresses, jewelry, ribbons,”

“Why would you think this is everything?”

“Then what do you want, Sophie?”

“Only You,” Sophie said softly. “You. And Charlie.”

Benedict shook his head in confusion and exhaustion, waving her words away. After gulping down a glass of water, he loomed over her petite figure, glaring down at her.

“I’m taking Charlie, Sophie. To Maddison Manor.”

“Oh, so is that where you live?”

Sophie scoffed, eyeing him sarcastically.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You never told me where you lived,”

“You never asked, Sophie.”

Sophie gave a low laugh, a dry, weary voice that dug nails in Benedict’s soul,

“Do you think I ever want to see the love of my life in the hands of another?”

“Sophie, you are the only one I would ever love, “

“Yet, you are trying to take my love away,” Sophie said quietly. “Taking my love away from me,”

“Charles is my son too, Sophie. He carries my name. And I don’t want him wandering alone in those streets in the future,”

“You don’t seem to find the problem with me, walking down those streets.”

“I see the problem, Sophie.” Benedict snapped, “Except that you choose to do so despite my warnings. You chose to walk down those streets. But not Charles.”

Sophie tightened her fists. God, she wanted to smack him but Benedict's words were painfully justifiable,

In the blink of an eye, while she looked away, Charlie had reached his hands on the burning iron, bursting into a painful cry,

“So, you are going to take him away? Away from his mama?”

“I’m not taking Charles away from you, Sophie. I’ll come to St. Johns with Charlie every weekend. If that’s not enough for you, I can hire you as a maid,”

“What will your wife think?” Sophie snared, his absurdity was making her veins explode, “I don’t think your Mrs. Bridgerton would be happy about having a bastard in her own house. Let alone live with her husband's mistress.”

“It’s my house, Sophie.” Benedict snapped back, “I’m the master of the house, not her. And Dolores is an intelligent woman, perhaps less foolish than you,”

“I cannot believe you just said that,”

“She will understand, Sophie.’

“You’re an idiot.”

“And you're being an absolute fool,”

With a deep sigh, Benedict ran his fingers in his hair. Why couldn’t this woman be reasonable?

“When you said you would be my mistress,” Benedict continued matter-of-factly, “You made me promise three things. I believe an intelligent women like yourself would remember,”

Sophie clutched the hems of her skirt. So tightly that her nails were biting into her skin, the striking hot pain against her skin,

“I asked you to love the baby no matter what.”

“Yes. And I have, Sophie. I love and adore Charlie with all my heart. I would give my life for him.”

“I know.”

“Tell me the second one.”

Sophie hated how Benedict’s voice was calm and reserved; as if he were trying to soothe a toddler,

“The baby would have your name,”

“And I have done that Sophie. Chares Bridgerton. Do you understand how difficult that was for me?”

Benedict peered into Sophie’s eyes, craning his lean figure, but Sophie only glared back at him, with her icy-cold green eyes,

“You said that you would give your life for him.” She tilted her head in disbelief, “Yet, you struggled to give him the legitimacy?”

“Sophie,”

Sophie cut off his words.

“And the education. Benedict. The same education as you,”

“And I plan to keep my promise, Sophie. I found him a governess. In a few years, I can get Charlie a tutor so that he can be prepared for Eaton,”

“But why do you have to take him away from me? Why? Why, Benedict, why? He could stay at St. Johns, Benedict. Get a tutor to visit there,”

“Sophie, that place is filled with whores and prostitutes,” gritting through his teeth, he said, “Do you think I can get a decent man to come to St. Johns for education,”

“Are you calling me a whore?”

“No, Sophie. Why would I call you,”

“But you did,”

Benedict twisted his lips in a mocking smile.

“Sophie, your argument is completely irrelevant to Charlie’s education,”

“Well, according to your theory, Charlie is a son of a whore,”

“Why could you say that, Sophie?”

“Because you said so!”

The two glared at each other. Sophie clenched her jaw, her forest green eyes in flames. The veins on Benedict’s neck bulging.

Fists clenched. Sweating.

“I’m not having this conversation with you,”

Benedict took his jacket from the chair, and walked up the stairs to their bedroom. Sophie followed him, desperately trying to catch up with his speed,

“No, Benedict. We have to talk about this,”

“I don’t think you’re in the right place of mind to talk reasonably,”

“Oh, you’re the one to say,”

Sophie glared at him as Benedict continued to pack his belongings, no, not packing, he was just slamming things in the leather trunk,

“I’m going to take the carriage to London. I’ll send one the first thing tomorrow morning for you and Charlie.”

“Oh, so you are going to run away from me now? Away from Charles? Away from all your problems again?”

“I just need a break, Sophie. From this mess,”

“No, Benedict. This is your mess.”

“This is our mess, Sophie.”

“No, if,”

“If, if, if, if.” Benedict muttered angrily, “You keep talking of nonexistent possibilities, Sophie. Non-existing dreams. Illusions. Can’t you see I’m trying to live the reality Sophie?”

“YOU fed me with illusions of love, Benedict. Telling me that you love me and nothing was going to change. Everything changed, Benedict. Everything. Ever since you got married. You lied to me, Benedict, making me hope that someday we could,”

“See, Sophie? See? You are talking of illusions again,”

“Because you made me believe in them,”

“WILL YOU SHUT UP?”

With a violent slam of the desk, Benedict found himself screaming at her. But Benedict immediately regretted everything he said as she took two steps back, her face no longer flushed with anger or spite, it was emotionless. Blank.

“Sophie, Sophie, Sophie.”

“No, Benedict,”

“Sophie, I’m sorry.”

“I love you.”

“No, don’t say that.”

“I don’t know you anymore,”

Her voice was quiet.

“I don’t recognize you anymore.”

“Sophie.”

“Who are you?”

“I don’t know.”

And she left, closing the door behind her.

“Maybe tomorrow,”

“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,”

“Is it a crime to dine at my own house?”

With a mocking smile plastered across his lips, her husband played with the chicken roast on his plate, peeling off the grilled skin with a silver knife. Like a little toddler.

“Are you quite all right?”

“Splendid, my dear, quite splendid!”

Her husband gave a dark chuckle as he chugged down another glass of whiskey. It was quite unusual for him to be dining at Maddison Manor on a regular Saturday, and when she saw him arrive at the door at five o’clock, asking the butler to prepare a dinner for two, she asked her ladies maid to put on her best dress, the dark green silk she had just made at the modiste. The low neckline was a bit scandalous; but the modiste, with a teasing smile, had told her that was her husband’s taste.

But he seemed more interested in the glass of whiskey than herself. Hell, he paid more attention to the plate of roasted chicken before him. She gripped on her silver knife and fork even tighter.

“How was your day, my love?”

“Splendid.”

“How so?”

Benedict didn’t answer her question. Instead, he took another shot of whiskey, waving a hand to the servants for another.

As the butler came in with another bottle, she snatched it from his hands. Her husband’s eyes widened as she poured the liquid into her wine glass, drowning herself in the bitterness in one just swig.

She could feel the burning in her throat,

Benedict finally looked at her, eyeing her from tip to toe. He changed into a twisted smirk.

“You do look rather fetching today, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“Thank you. I just had it made for you.”

“Ah,”

Benedict stretched his hands to take the bottle, but she pushed it to the corner, away from his reach. She heard him click his tongue in annoyance.

“Does it please your eye?”

She tried to sound seductive; lowering her voice, fluttering her eyelashes. She had put extra rouge on her lips before dinner, and the fragrant perfume he had bought in France. At least, that was what he had told her,

“Why did you make it green?”

He asked, abruptly.

“I thought your favorite color was green.”

“My favorite color is blue,”

“Oh,”

Husband and wife, the two dined in silence, only the sound of their plates and utensils clattering with each other audible in the Background.

The roasted chicken suddenly tasted bland. Both Benedict and Dolores thought sandpaper would taste better, feel better in their mouths,

“I can take your sons,”

“Pardon?”

“I said, I can take care of your sons.”

“How, how do you know about it,”

“I met them,”

“What?”

“She was delivering fresh sheets to the neighborhood,”

“Jesus Christ,”

She saw Benedict bury his face in his hands but she continued on,

“She looked tired. And it can’t possibly be good for your children to be around in that environment,”

“You keep saying in sons,”

“She’s pregnant.”

Benedict violently stabbed the knife into the table. A dull sound echoed through the room.

“Bloody hell.”

She glared at him.

“Shouldn’t you be grateful?”

Benedict didn’t answer. Instead, his clutch on his whiskey glass became tighter, his knuckles turning white and red at the same time.

“We can take in Charles for his wellbeing. If the baby in her belly is indeed yours,”

“Of course she’s mine,”

“Oh, so you are so sure about it?”

For the first time in their relationship, he had a sheepish look on his face. But he still didn’t answer her question.

“Go to her house tomorrow, and get Charles.” She continued emotionlessly, “As for the second one, we can talk about it after she’s born,”

“I can’t, Dolores.”

“Benedict, can’t you see how benevolent I am trying to be? How merciful as your wife? I’m doing this all for you! So that you would snap out of your misery, and be happy for god's sake,”

“I can’t.”

She noticed that her husband had stabbed the knife in his hand, the red blood dripping on the velvet carpet, staining the silk white tablecloth into a darkish black, a sharp smell of human flesh,

“She’s gone.”

“Gone, gone.”

“Gone.”

Benedict jerked awake, drenched in tears and sweat. The bright moon and the silent wind rattling the windows told him that he was at my Cottage, not the bloody Maddison Manor, not St. Johns, not Audrey Hall.

His heart was still beating rapidly, his breath still short and shallow as he grabbed a glass from a table, drinking the lukewarm liquid in one breath.

“Are you all right, my love?”

He heard a gentle soft voice from his side, soothing his beating heart, the shivers he felt from the awful dream.

“Where’s Charles?”

“In the nursery, love.”

“Why isn’t he here with us?”

“Because he always sleeps in the nursery, you silly man,”

“Oh,”

“You’re soaked in sweat,”

Her hands softly caressed his clenched shoulders, rubbing his skin reassuringly, soothing him to go back to sleep,

“It was just a dream, Benedict.”

“Just a bad dream.”

“Isn’t it?”

#Writer’s Notes

“Love is not finite,”

“Is it?”

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Love Shenanigans

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: You're engaged to the second Bridgerton son and you can't be happier. However, you didn't realize how cheeky and sneaky your future husband is.

You were promenading around the Ton with Benedict and his family. Many people have come up to you to congratulate you both on your engagement.

You were getting rather tired of all the attention.

"Maybe you should've thought more about falling in love with a Bridgerton then, hm?" Eloise quips with a smirk.

You snicker, "I suppose you're right. Who'd have thought that marrying one of the ton's most eligible bachelor's would come with all this fan fare?"

Benedict playfully rolls his eyes at you and his sister, "Must I remind you that I did insist on staying at the house while everyone goes on a walk?"

"And be left alone with you with no one else around? How scandalous, Mr. Bridgerton!" you jokingly express.

Your fiance snorts, "What will they do? Marry us faster? Oh no, the horror! Being married to the love of my life much sooner is such a horrible thing!"

Both you and Benedict are giggling and Eloise makes a face, "I don't know what's more sickening, when you two were pining for each other or you now?"

Benedict gives her a pointed look, "You don't have to walk with us, Eloise. Go walk with Franchesca if you're so disturbed by two people in love."

"I think I will!" Eloise lifts her head high and rushes forward to catch up to her younger sister.

You and Benedict continue to walk in silence, enjoying the sun, the birds chirping, people lounging around on the grass. It was so peaceful and serene.

You turn to Benedict and see he's already staring at you with much love in his eyes, "What?" you ask him with a smile.

He shakes his head, "You're so beautiful."

You shy from his gaze, "Benedict-"

"In fact, I want to paint you. Right now."

You look at him in surprise, "Right now?"

He nods, "Yes, let's go back to the house. We must while I'm still heavily inspired," he's tugging at your hand, going back in the direction you all came from.

You giggle as you're scurrying beside your future husband, "What's going on, Ben, hm? Are you trying to seduce me?" you ask jokingly.

He turns with a smirk, "Last time I checked, I didn't have to try very hard."

Your cheeks heat up immediately.

_________________

At the house, Benedict brings you his studio. Canvases, some blank, some painted, are littered around the room. This room is the most familiar to you. It's where you and Benedict spent the most time together, supervised, of course.

It's where you grew closer, where you fell in love, and where he proposed.

Once inside, Benedict closes the door, locking it. Just in case.

You sit on the chaise lounge that you usually occupy, "Did you really bring me back here to paint me or as that a ruse?"

Benedict promptly sheds his jacket and shirt, "I do intend to paint you," he tosses his clothing to the side, "Just after I reacquaint myself with every. inch. of. you." He kneels in front of you, hands sliding up your legs.

You giggle, "Well, get on with it, Mr. Bridgerton."

"Oh I will, Future Mrs. Bridgerton."

[silverhallow]

Evermore

pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett

summary: after years of being "just friends" a birthday trip to a secluded cabin in the woods changes everything for Evermore...

warnings: Mentions of Oral Sex, Woman on Top, Missionary, fingering, nothing majorly graphic

word count: 3450

Rating: M

author's note: a little drabble that got a bit out of hand.

It was the weekend of Sophie’s 25th birthday, but she’d not felt like celebrating, she just wanted to stop at home, chill out, go see a movie and maybe go for a drink or two but her best friend, Benedict, decided to surprise her with a trip to the mountains. Just the two of them.

The drive hadn’t taken that long and they arrived early Friday evening, and it was so peaceful and serene. The moonlight flooding through the windows and all of the stars out gave everything a bit of a romantic feel. 

Sophie shook her head, she couldn’t believe that Benedict had picked a location that looked so romantic and secluded, they hadn’t been like that with one another for years.

Back in University when they first met, they’d slept together regularly but as they got closer and closer, it became apparent that the sex was complicating things and she’d been so terrified of getting hurt that they’d decided to just to remain friends and cut the sex element out of their relationship.

"Soph?" Benedict called from down the hall as she was stocking the fridge. "Did you know this place only has one bed?"

"Yeah, I mean why can't we share a bed? The bigger places didn't have hot tubs." she said as she gestured towards the glass door at the balcony with the Hot Tub. 

Benedict may have chosen the location but she had been the one to pick the chalet, she’d not given much thought about the sleeping arrangements but if she was in some cabin in the woods, she wanted to be able to use the hot tub.

"No... we can… but why do we need a hot tub? It's December."

"Exactly. It will be like drinking hot chocolate when it's cold. In fact, I'm going out there in a minute." Sophie grinned as she stood up, the fridge now fully stocked.

"Okay, well I think I'm actually going to get some sleep, it was a long drive and I want to get started early tomorrow." Benedict replied with a stretch

"Don't hog the blankets!" she yelled after him as he walked up the stairs towards the bedroom

About 30 minutes later, the kitchen was fully stocked and she’d sorted out their hiking gear for tomorrow. She headed up to the bathroom to change, her clothes where in the suitcase benedict had taken upstairs. Hewas already asleep, but he awoke when she sneezed from behind the door in the bathroom and she winced, hoping that it wouldn’t disturb him but she wasn’t so lucky.

"Soph?" she heard coming from the bedroom.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up," Sophie emerged from the bathroom wearing a silver string bikini. Benedict turned on the bedside lamp and Sophie saw his mouth open a little in shock.

Last time he had seen her naked, she’d been very thin but over the last 4 years she’d gained some weight, thanks to cooking for herself and being out from under her wicked stepmother. She’d developed and had curves in all the right places and she could tell that he was trying his hardest not to stare at her.

"It's okay." she smiled, she knew it was only natural and she knew her bikini left little to the imagination. 

Benedict couldn't peel his eyes from between her legs, and she felt herself starting to get a little wet. She told herself it was just hormones. she hadn't had good sex in a long time, and her body was craving the familiar, pushing down the stirring she felt whenever she was around him.

"Well, goodnight, i’ll try not to wake you when I come back up" and as difficult as it was, she decided the right thing to do was walk away.

It was very cold outside. Not quite cold enough to snow just yet but it was cold enough that it wouldn't have been feasible to stand out there in a bikini for more than a minute or two.

When she sank into the warm water, all her worries went away and she felt herself sigh contentedly.

She poured herself a Whiskey from the bottle she’d left outside, sat back, and stared at the stars. Just as the alcohol started to hit her, she heard Benedict opening the door and stepping out onto the balcony behind her.

"I can't sleep."

"Sorry Ben… I really didn't mean to wake you. You know I always sneeze at the most inconvenient times."

"I know but I saw you having a drink and thought maybe the whiskey might help me sleep."

"Oh, sure," she handed him the glass and he stood outside the hot tub drinking. "Why don't you just get in?" she asked with a brow raised knowing he must have been cold standing there.

"I don't want to get my boxers wet."

"Oh please, like I don't know what your dick looks like."

He choked on his drink and started coughing, his entire body going bright red.

"You mean get in naked?"

"Yeah, why not? I'll get naked, too, if that will make you feel more comfortable."

"You don't have to do that, but as long as you're okay with me being naked..."

Sophie nodded, and Benedict pulled his boxers off and she could see he was a little hard.

"Sorry." He blushed. Sophie just smiled and cursed herself mentally, she had forgotten how thick he was, but seeing his cock again immediately turned her on.

He took the seat right next to her, and they sat like that for a while, passing the glass back and forth until the amber liquid was gone.

Sophie let her head fall back on the edge of the hot tub as she let out a contented sigh, she felt good. Warm on the inside from the whiskey, and on the outside from the water.

Ben laughed, placing his hand on her thigh and she couldn’t help but watch it through the water.

"I'm glad I came here with you instead of staying home." Sophie looked up at him. He was so handsome, dark hair and stunning blue eyes, with perfect skin. He was tall and fit, but not aggressively so, it always made her stomach squirm when she saw him like this.

"Me too. You deserve nice things, you know. You work so hard, all the time, but you never stop to enjoy what you're working for."

"You're right," she replied, as she looked away, embarrassed. She had wasted her entire teens, dedicated it to trying to make her stepmother like her before she went to Uni and thought she was making progress, been to therapy and was building herself back up, she was nowhere near where she wanted to be in her life. She’d been single for years, she worked and worked and hardly had any time to enjoy her life.

In an effort to pull herself out of her spiral, she redirected the conversation onto him, "What about you? Are you getting utter fulfillment out of life Mr Hot-Shot Photographer?"

"No," He said, almost with a derisive snort. "Not even close."

"What more is it you want?" she asked curiously. She’d assumed he had everything, a career, he was always being linked to some stunning model or something and he had a family that Sophie would have killed for.

He didn't answer and Sophie thought it was odd so when she looked over at him, she was shocked to see that he was staring at her. A bright intensity, almost a pain in his eyes that she’d never seen before and it made her stomach squirm.

"What?"

"Soph…." He sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"Ben? What? You can tell me anything you know…" Sophie rubbed his back, concerned that something was really wrong and he had been keeping it to himself.

"You have to know that I'm in love with you." he said, his eyes averted from her and she could tell the red tinge to his cheeks was nothing to do with the heat from the water.

Sophie felt her stomach drop and  she was sure it had just turned inside out. She’d honestly thought maybe they’d end up fucking, but never in her life did she expect a declaration of love. She’d always assumed he never felt that way about her… that she just wasn’t his type.

"Ben, I... How long have you felt this way?" she asked, a little taken aback as she tried to get her brain to process his words

"Years." he said honestly

"Years?!" she squeaked

"Yeah, I mean... I couldn't tell you after you said we should just be friends, because I knew you wouldn't talk to me anymore. And I would have rather had you around and secretly be in love with you than not have you around at all." he replied sadly.

"I had no idea." Sophie said in disbelief.

He snorted, "Come on.. You don’t give yourself enough credit Soph. You're absolutely stunningly beautiful, you're so smart and easy to talk to, funny, ambitious, great in bed, and I mean... look at your body. How could I not be in love with you?"

Sophie leaned into him, her heart pounding in her chest so loudly she was shocked he couldn’t hear it, "You really think i’m all of those things?"

"Of course I do Soph. You are an absolute goddess, stop letting the people around you tell you otherwise."

Sophie could see the sincerity in his eyes, and with her heart hammering, she leaned in, believing every word he said and kissed him.

He grabbed the sides of her face and kissed her back harder, putting every ounce of his feelings into the kiss, like it was his only chance, like it would be his only salvation, like it was their last kiss…

Sophie moved a bit closer to him and moaned into his mouth, and he pulled away, looking into her eyes and she saw the pain in his eyes and she knew what he was thinking before he said it, "Soph… I… I… don't know if we should."

Benedict grabbed her hand beneath the water, stroking her palm with his thumb, he knew how she felt about rejection, about being pushed away and the sense of abandonment she’d been dealing with in years of therapy but he was protecting himself, he couldn’t go back into a casual thing with her, but he didn’t want to lose her.

"Benni..." He looked up, she knew he hated being called Benni, unless it was by her because she.  only used this moniker when she was being serious. "I feel the same way you do." she admitted.

Benedict just stared at her and a quiet fell around them, she could see the confusion in his face and eyes, especially because she had been the one to end things. Finally after what felt like hours, he asked “why did you say we should only be friends? I don’t get it… if… if you felt like this… like that…"

"I was scared," She replied honestly, her heart hammering knowing she owed him this. "It was so much, so fast and I’d fallen so madly in love with you and I kept hearing the voices in my head telling me I wasn’t good enough for you, that you didn’t feel the same way I was terrified of getting my heart broken, of it not working out and you leaving me as well. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing your friendship, too. So I thought it was better to cut the romantic element out. But all I did was make myself miserable. And made you miserable as well apparently” she said sadly as she looked away from him, ashamed that she’d hurt him in such a way.

Benedict placed a hand on her cheek and tilted it up so that her green eyes met his and just stared at her for a moment, taking in the moment before he caressed her cheek and pulled her onto his lap, her legs wrapping around him straddling him.

"Tell me." he whispered, needing to hear the words for himself, the three little words that would forever change their lives.

Sophie placed her hand on his chest and laid her head on his shoulder, enjoying the tenderness and closeness before she whispered, "I love you, Ben. I have for a long time."

He pulled her up to face him again and pressed his lips to hers, taking her lower lip into his mouth and giving it a playful and tender bite.

"You're my dream girl, my muse, my everything" he rubbed his thumb over her lower lip, caressing where he’d just bitten, "You know that?"

Sophie moaned as he kissed and licked her neck, undoubtedly marking her as he went, it used to drive her mad when they were together and he undoubtedly remembered the reaction.

Benedict grinned into her flesh as he untied her bikini top so he could have unrestricted access and Sophie watched as it floated out of sight. 

Her nipples hardened immediately from the cold air and Benedict kissed down her chest taking his time to cover every inch of her breasts, taking each nipple into his mouth causing her to moan. He licked, sucked, or gently bit one while he softly rubbed the other... then he'd switch driving her mad with desire and need.

Sophie arched back into his mouth desperate for more when she suddenly became very aware of his hard cock between them.

She started grinding on him, harder and harder, until he spanked her arse hard and she yelped, having not expected it.

"Careful now." he warned as he lifted her slightly and moved them to the edge of the hot tub where he grabbed her towel and laid her down on top of it and tugged at the sides of her bikini bottoms, removing them and tossing them behind them.

The coolness of the December eve did not bother them as they were lost to the heat of the moment and the passion between them. 

He captured her lips once more in a fiery kiss that consumed them both, his hands moved up her thighs, spreading her wider for him as he rubbed her clit in slow circles as they made out.

His mouth muffled her moans, but neither of them were concerned about their noise levels as there was nobody around for miles. Just the two of them and the passion that burned between them. Years of longing and desperation pouring into one another.

Sophie felt herself getting hotter and closer to the edge, desperate to cum and just as she was about to tell him, to beg him for more, he slipped two fingers inside her, forcing the last word to come out in a long moan and she screamed into his lips, riding out the intense orgasm.

Before she’d had a chance to recover, Benedict had moved with a speed she’d forgotten he possessed and replaced his fingers with his lips and tongue and she felt like she was in heaven, staring up at the stars as orgasm after orgasm rolled through her body.

She’d thought Benedict had been good in bed back in University but this was nothing short of spectacular, the true definition of making love. 

Their confession, their desire and love for one another made the moment all the more special.

"Do you want to move inside?" she asked, stroking his hair as his head rested on her thigh, as he was giving her a brief moment of respite, as she felt the cold starting to creep over her body.

"I would love that." He kissed her flesh where his mouth was before getting up and scoping her up into his arms and carrying her through the chalet into the bedroom where he laid her down on the bed settling himself between her legs, rubbing his rock hard cock along her clit, knowing how desperate she was, knowing how badly he wanted it but he was determined to make her beg for it.

"Please Ben," she moaned. "Please Benni…I've waited long enough. Please fuck me…” she begged and that was all the encouragement he required as with one forceful and deliberate thrust, he was buried deep within her.

"Oh fuck, Soph" he groaned, knowing he was finally home after all these years. "You're so wet, fuck." He leaned down and kissed her before he started to pound harder. After a few minutes of thrusting, kissing and clinging to one another Sophie moaned “I want to ride you”

Benedict, not being one to disappoint his lady, rolled them so she on top, without ever pulling out of her. 

With a wicked smirk, she leaned back and began moving her hips slowly as he tilted his own so he was hitting her g spot so perfectly. 

Sophie had always loved showing off for him, the way he watched her with lust and disbelief and now she had confidence in her body, no longer felt ashamed by her figure and her ribs, she began to really put on a show for him, as she ground her hips against him, riding him faster and faster until she’d lost all sense of time, place and her sensibilities.

It was only until Benedict sat up, pulling her tighter on top of him and he licked up her cheek towards her ear and whispered, "I'm going to fuck you so good that you never want another cock, that you’ll only ever need my cock" He spanked her arse as she moaned causing her to yelp. "Now, be a good girl and get on your stomach” he said squeezing her arse and she clambered off him and lay down.

Benedict lay her in a prone position and lay atop of her, pinning her wrists behind her back and slid his cock up and down her pussy a few times, teasing her

“Ben please… please just fuck me… fuck me til I can’t walk!” she screamed at him, unable to take his teasing anymore.

Without a word he slammed himself in, burning himself so completely that he was almost balls deep within her and she screamed in pleasure, she’d never felt so full, so complete as she did in that moment.

"Your pussy is so fucking tight, so fucking hot" he growled, slowing his thrusts. "Fuck, Soph. You're going to make me cum already." he admitted as he stopped completely for a moment, still buried deep within her, not moving, just giving himself a moment to compose himself as he moved his fingers up and down her spine, tracing the freckles on her back and stroking my hair. This was what she always loved about him, what she’d missed whenever she had sex with another person, what always made her crave him…. He was the perfect blend of rough and gentle.

Especially with her and she realised how much of a fool she’d been, how blind she’d been and before she could open her mouth to apologise, to say something… 

Benedict began to move again and all thoughts were lost to the perfection of the moment.

She felt herself being pounded directly into the mattress. His thrusts were perfect and in sync, and she came harder than she’d ever cum in her entire life, her voice would be hoarse tomorrow and she felt her walls spasming as she screamed and her body convulsed around his cock.

Benedict couldn't hold back any longer when he felt her pussy tighten around him, the feeling that he was home, the place he belonged, with the woman he had loved in silent heartbreak for the last few years and he grabbed her by the hips and came deep inside her with the most guttural noise he had ever heard himself make. It was perfection, it was everything that he’d dreamed.

Sophie carefully rolled over as his now limp cock fell out of her and he collapsed on top of her, placing little kisses on her collarbone, both of them letting their hands roam over the other, just touching and desperate to never stop touching the other, knowing that this, today was the start of the rest of their lives, and totally worth the horrific cold that they’d both wake up with in the morning.

Benedict’s eyes fell to the clock and he saw it was after midnight, today was officially Sophie’s birthday and he leaned over with a gentle and loving kiss to her lips and whispered,  "I love you, Soph. Happy birthday.”

Sophie whispered back “I love you too, this has been the best birthday ever…”

[sea-owl]

So did Colin and Eloise manage to get to Penelope at the ball at some point? Honestly I’d just love to know what happens next with everyone at home the ball. Part 2?

Part 2 of the ball? Really nothing much else happened. Kate and Anthony got into an argument about Kate's (accurate) description of the Bridgerton brood. Phillip and Penelope just continued moving and even took to the dance floor a few times. Michael and Francesca overheard Sophie call Benedict a nudist and busted out laughing.

Phillip and Penelope were the first ones out the door as soon as they could. Neither of them didn't want to be there in the first place. Sophie, Kate, and Lucy were right behind them. All of them had to be up early the next morning for work and school. Michael stuck around a little bit longer to say goodbye to Francesca. Simon and Gareth were stuck until much later in the evening because they very much feared Lady Danbury.

This didn't go well for Gareth later in the evening, because you know who else was there? Felicity Featherington.

Felicity took notice of how Colin and Eloise followed around Sir Crane and his plus one. Felicity could also spot her favorite sister anywhere. Even if it has been a few years since they saw one another in person. It is also well known that the four lords had friends outside of high society.

Hyacinth and Gareth had just finished a dance when Felicity cornered him.

"St. Clare," Felicity said staring him down. "Was that or was that not my sister with Sir Crane this evening."

Hyacinth turned towards Gareth. "Penelope was here?"

Gareth tensed. Penelope was going to kill him.

Michael, Phillip, and Penelope were all woken up by a loud banging on their apartment door.

Michael glared at the door like it offended his mother. "Damn, who comes to disturb the peace at seven am."

Phillip only makes a noise of agreement, but the morning grump was glaring at the door too.

Seeing neither of the boys were going to open it Penelope does. Her eyes widened when she sees who is on the other side.

"Penelope!" Hyacinth and Felicity hug her.

[deliontower]

a love like this | a.b

pairing: anthony bridgerton x reader (gn)

summary: Anthony has a nightmare and the reader comfort him

warnings; mostly fluff, some angst, small mention of injury and that’s it I think

word count: 808

a/n: my schedule has finally cleared so I’m working through my request! Edited but might have missed something.

request: would you be up for an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader imagine where he keeps tossing and turning on the bed and he can’t sleep and he’s afraid that the reader would wake up because of him so he goes to his study and tries to sleep there. but the reader then wakes up and finds anthony sweating because of a nightmare in the couch of the study room so she cuddles him to sleep and when anthony wakes up, he sees the reader falls asleep spooning him, he realizes that he finds comfort in the touch and breathing her scent.

MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN

Most people would say that Anthony Bridgerton needed no one. Maybe not even his family and if the lady whistledown was to be believed. He was a rake through and through.

Which is why everyone was so shocked when word came of his engagement, even more so when his wedding day actually came. Everyone thought it would only be a matter of time before you came to your senses and called off the wedding.

The people of town said the title must be worth it, that maybe it was a marriage of economic proposition, a business deal pure and simple.

Maybe sometime in the start of your and Anthony’s coruship you thought that too, but you wondered what he could want from you? He had enough money, enough influence and honestly he could have anyone he wanted, but he picked you.

Now though you knew his feelings were true. He would always dance with you at parties, he would always make time for you, eat one meal a day with you and every night before you slept he would kiss your hairline and inhale.

You were happy and you hoped he was happy too.

After a long day Antony loved nothing more than climbing into bed, and watching you undress. Not even in a lustful way. It was amazing to him just how much work went into your day.

Your shy smile as you settled down next to him. While he looked through the last papers of the day you would read something, offered the latest lady whistledown, laughing at the odd line then nudging him and to tell tell him the line through a string of giggles.

Though he doesn’t get it the way you did he always graced you with a dry laugh and smile. He knew it was enough because you would sigh constantly and lean into him.

There was nothing Antony hated more than trying to sleep. It was something he had always struggled with, the room was either too warm or too cold, the bed too hard or too soft, something was always wrong.

He sat up defeated looking down to your peaceful sleeping face. Not wanting to disturb your sleep he took his dressing gown and headed to his study.

The sun had barely risen when you woke up with a feeling something was wrong, reaching out to Anthony’s side of the bed the feeling got worse. The dim light coming from the fire gave you a view of the whole room, where your husband was nowhere to be found.

After wasting four matches you finally lit a candle and went searching for Anthony. Aware the rest of the family were all fast asleep you walked as quietly as you could.

The door to Anthony study was open just a crack, you were just going to walk past but stopped hearing something.

Pushing the door open, stand in the doorway only with the small candle to light your line of sight.

“My love” you called out.

You heard what sounded like a muffed cry, with one last look behind you, you walked into the room. Holding the candle high above you to get a better view, turning on the spot to get the best look.

You nearly dropped the candle seeing Anthony curled up on the small sofa. “My love” you cried rushing over to him, you softly nelt on the floor before him, brushing his hair from his sweaty forehead.

“What happened?” You asked worriedly.

His breathing was too heavy which made you worry more, you were halfway to your feet about to call for a doctor when Anthony reached out of your waist.

“Please don’t leave me” he managed to get out through wobbly breaths.

“I’m not going anywhere” you nodded, sitting down beside him. “Just breathe for me love ''.

He did as you ask, with a little time.

You moved him so you were both lying down. Most of his weight was on you but after shifting around you didn’t mind. As you played with his hair you repeated that you were there and wouldn’t be leaving. He was fast asleep, relaxed and you felt confident enough to sleep yourself.

Giggling woke Anthony hours later, annoyed he looked to the door just in time to see two figures run away, he scoffed lying back down only to be confused by the hard surfaces on your shoulder. That’s when he remembered the night before, the sleepless night, the nightmare that followed when he had got some sleep and then you appeared like an angel in the doorway, holding him until his demons left.

He sat up feeling oddly rested, smiling seeing you still asleep.

Most people would say that Anthony Bridgerton needed no one. That wasn't true, he needed you. And as long as he had you he could live.

[arosesstorm]

colin bridgerton serie 

ep seven

words count: 2.4k            fem reader! x Colin Bridgerton

warning: friends to lovers trope

summary: y/n Dayton and Colin Bridgerton were friends and they swore they'd always be but it takes a great deal of bravery to love someone, more to keep loving them when it hurts the most.

English is not my first language loves, trying my best, enjoy :)

Knocks on her door distracted her from her reading.

"Come in" she mumbled, her hand resting on the page she was just reading as her mother popped her head inside. 

"Am I disturbing you?", y/n softly sighed, "no, come in". 

There were moments when she just needed peace, little breaths in a day full of expectations.

Reading had been her escape for as long as she could remember and people around her knew that when she had a book in hand, she was just longing for a quick escape. 

Her father knew, her mother knew, along with her little brother and Colin…

Y/n’s mother gently sat close to her on the couch, her dress graciously moving with her. 

She was holding a piece of paper in her hands as she looked at y/n. 

"Dear.." She looked to the ground, hardly finding the words. 

"Is everything alright mama?" 

The woman quickly looked up into her daughter’s eyes. 

"I gotta ask you dear" her expression hard "is everything alright with mr Bridgerton?" 

Taken by surprise by that question, y/n didn’t fail to be sarcastic: "which one? You’ll have to be a bit more specific mama", another thing she must have taken from Colin, quick remarks.

"Y/n…"

The girl sighed loudly, "We are not so close anymore" she admitted as her mother smiled softly. 

"Oh dear, you've grown attached to him, haven’t you?".

But she needed no answer as y/n looked outside the window, the faint shadow of pain coloring her face. 

The woman put her hand on her daughter’s knee, reassuringly, "It isn’t something you can simply decide not to feel anymore", her eyes shooting back to y/n’s face as she continued: "the strings that bind you, they can’t be untied".

Her eyes suddenly passionate as she tighten the grip. 

"Oh dear girl, I know you expect and deserve the very best; but sometimes things don’t quite follow the narrative, sometimes we have to force a chapter or write it on our own".

A breath, as she handed y/n the paper she had been hiding behind her back. 

The girl’s eyes scanned the paper as she read first slowly, then in a breath: 

The one we love have the power to inflict us the greatest scar.

For what thing is more fragile…than the human heart?

The bond between man and bride is private, sacred.

But I must tell you, I have learned that a grave fraud is afoot; as if the Featheringtons did not have enough to be dealing with, Mrs Marina Thompson is with child and she has been from the very first day she arrived in our fair city.

Desperate times may call for desperate measures, but I will wager many will think her actions beyond the pale. 

Perhaps she thought it her only option or perhaps she knows no shame. 

But I ask you, can the ends ever justify such wretched means?

-From the Chronicles of Lady Whistledown  

The girl’s eyes fell off the paper, only a thought crossing her mind: "I have to go" she mumbled, "I have to go" she repeated more to herself than her mother. 

And in a second she was up, quickly running for the door and to the entrance, her brother questioning her alarming behavior to their mother. 

"I need a carriage, immediately, I am to be escorted to the Bridgerton’s household". 

It took a ten minute ride to get to the household, but as soon as she jumped down the ride, she was already knocking on the door, a newfound need to see him, to speak to him. 

Y/n had passed the last weeks changing plans, praying not to meet him or better, them, and now she was going mad trying to find that same man; life can be crazy and fate hilarious. 

It was mrs Wilson who opened the door, her voice stern "the family does not accept vis-" before her eyes fell on the girl: "mrs Dayton" she breathed. 

"I need to see him" y/n pleaded, which seemed to work since the woman opened the doors fully: "please come in". 

Lady Bridgerton was at the entrance, walking quickly from one part of the room to the other when she spotted the visitor, feet stopping instantly. 

"Dear" she muttered, her eyes kind, y/n had this strange feeling like the woman had been expecting her to come.

The girl made a small bow, impatience betraying her good manners: "where is him?" She asked. 

The woman took a step forward, her hands finding y/n’s as she held them tight.

The smallest hint of compassion in her voice: "upstairs, in his room". 

It took so little to get there, her heart guiding her in a desperate run, but now that she was climbing up the stairs, her eyes searching for Colin’s room: the first on the left of the corridor on the right… now she was suddenly feeling anxious and overwhelmed. 

She knocked once, then twice, "I want to be alone" she heard, a voice so raspy and low she thought she had imagined it. 

There was no way she was backing up now, another knock and the door opened fully: "I said-".

His eyes fixed on her, as his voice dropped lower again: "y/n?". 

Colin’s eyes were red, hinting he had been crying; that austere, charmer of London had been crying. 

It pained y/n. 

His clothes were wrinkled and his hair not the ever so perfect styled. 

It took her no time, as she flew into his arms, holding tightly. 

As soon as the boy felt y/n’s body pressed to his, he gave up, arm wrapping her, his head hiding in the crook of her neck. 

He closed the door and guided her to his bed as he never let go of her embrace. 

"i’m so sorry" she whispered as she let go, falling to sit on his bed. 

It wouldn’t have been proper for a lady to be alone with a man, let alone in his room, on his bed, but y/n couldn’t care less at the moment, nor that she ever did when she was with Colin. 

Colin was sat in front of her as he held her hand tightly, his eyes those of someone who was trying his best not to cry. 

"I was a fool".

"You were not a fool! you believed yourself in love, you shouldn’t apologize for that" y/n whispered back, her fingers stroking his. 

The man half smiled, his eyes, even if red, were the clearest green she had ever seen. 

"I missed you" his voice cracking as she hugged him again. 

Y/n didn’t know how she found herself with her back against the headboard of Colin’s bed, his head on her lap as he was resting close to her, her fingers in his hair. 

After crying for hours, he seemed to have fallen asleep in that position, his arms securing her legs, keeping her close. 

There was something terribly intimate of being in that position with her best friend and even more heartbreaking to know she was comforting him because another girl broke his heart. 

As the hours passed, the sun gave his place to the moon, darkness surrounding the room, y/n could do nothing but stroke his hair, rock him to sleep.

Her arms felt tired and her heart too; she could do nothing in the complete silence, but realize, exhausted, terrified, that she loved him.

It was clear now, why she felt like it was not the moment for her to marry, let alone to fall in love; why she refused a handful of more than acceptable proposals, how she got so angry at him for taking that fateful step.

She loved him in a way she could never love anyone else and it broke her heart. 

It was midnight when she left his room, quietly jumping down the bed hoping not to wake him up. 

As soon as she closed the door to her back, she wanted to do nothing but cry, endlessly, for hours. 

Violet was still awake, a cup of hot tea in her hand as she portrayed the face of worry. 

As soon as she spotted y/n make her way down the stairs, she softly called her name. 

When the girl turned around she could not hide the tears that were framing her eyes, the pain that was dancing in them. 

"Oh dear" Violet came closer to her and she hugged the girl, she held her like she knew. 

It felt like Violet perceived her, understood her thoughts, shared them. 

After what felt like forever, Lady Bridgerton whispered: "I wondered who would have realized it first" her arms leaving y/n’s frame as she held her shoulders tightly: "I’m sorry it had to be you", an encouraging smile "I’m sorry it had to be this way". 

If y/n’s mother was right, if what really tied her to Colin was a string, If that was what love felt like, y/n never wanted to feel it again. 

The last dance of the season was hosted by the new duchess of Hastings, at their house in the countryside. 

Daphne was beyond excited for the upcoming ball; everything had been organized in the most detailed of ways. 

The whole mansion was dressed in white and silver silk, candles framed each window and a soft, warm light enlightened the dance floor. 

The events of the night prior danced in her head as y/n was waiting to be greeted by Daphne and her new husband. 

By the time she succeeded to meet the two, her friend warmly smiled at her, a nod to her husband as she muttered to the unmarried to follow her. 

Daphne took the girl away from the majestic view, as they made their way through the crowd. 

A few feet away from the little stage were violinists and pianists were playing their songs, the two girls met a door. 

It was hidden from the view; Daphne pushed rather ungracefully as she held y/n’s hand; "this way" she mumbled, making the two walk down a long corridor. 

Once they reached the end, they started climbing up the noisy stairs. 

When they reached the top y/n was breathless. 

The terrace were the two arrived was facing the floor were couples were already dancing. 

From that point of view, she could spot every and each person walking by, probably going unnoticed since the only light was coming from Daphne’s candles far away. 

"What is wrong, Daphne?" Y/n finally asked, looking back at her friend. 

Daphne reached towards the handrail, close to her. 

"This season did not went how we have imagined, did it?" A smile on her lips as y/n chuckled: "not quite at all" y/n replied, her heart was tired, her eyes too. 

"It has been a rough time, hasn’t it?", y/n just nodded. 

"Oh y/n" Daphne suddenly reached for her friend’s hands: "mama told me". 

Y/n’s soul felt tired too as she stared down at the ton "I’m screwed" was what left her lips. 

"Why are you saying this y/n-"

"I am done Daphne, finished, this is it for me." Y/n lushed out, :"I spent all my life getting to know a man while I never realized I was falling for him", her eyes left Daphne’s face as she searched for him in the crowd of people. 

"I spent all season dancing with strangers in hope to find him in them, I asked questions and refused proposals all because I was too blind to understand the reason behind it", she felt like crying "I behaved like a spoilt child, taking a grudge upon him just because he fell for someone who wasn’t me".

Her eyes went back to her friend: "this is not what I wanted to have, this is not the story I was dreaming about". 

Daphne shoot forward, her hands wrapping around her figure as she held y/n tight.

"If there is a thing this season has thought me" Daphne took a breath "is that things we want don’t arrive just how we expect them".

Their eyes met, as Daphne kept on talking: "You should tell him". 

The duchess held y/n’s figure tighter, "it’s Colin we’re talking about, the same boy you shared your deepest secrets with" a warm smile, "tell him". 

But Daphne was wrong, because as y/n was making her way back to the party, her feet guiding her towards the refreshment table, she couldn’t help but think that it was not her Colin, not anymore. 

In the mist of time, existed a moment were the two had been close, had been inseparable. 

But the blur of that same time made y/n realize the one who was standing in front of her was not a kid anymore, he was not her best friend, he was not her most trusted adviser, he was a man. 

A very good looking one too. 

"y/n" he breathed, shifting uncomfortably in his place. 

"Mr Bridgerton" the girl muttered, Colin handed her a glass of lemonade as his eyes fell to the floor.

"I must confess, I’m embarrassed" the boy mumbled, "you’ve seen me cry too, now you really have all the material for a perfect blackmail", his tone was playful, but y/n felt like being clear. 

"I would never"

"I know, that’s why I felt safe enough" was Colin’s answer. 

They shared some gazes, finally looking at each other’s in the eyes when:

"Colin I-" 

"Y/n I should-" 

Soft chuckles, "you first", y/n smiled kindly, she would have told him that night, that was it. 

"After everything that has happened I realized something" Colin breathed, his tone rather disconsolate.

Y/n’s eyes were shining with a light he never saw, but nonetheless, he kept rambling: 

"I’m to begin my tour, tomorrow morning, you know how much I longed to travel".

'Yes’ the girl thought, 'how we were planning to do it together'.

But she had to keep strong, her heart breaking under the weight of a one sided affection. 

"What did you wanna say?" Colin asked. 

Y/n forced a smile "nothing important, enjoy your tour". 

She placed the untouched drink back to the table as she turned around. 

No, if Colin wasn’t going to return her feelings she would have buried them. 

If the man she loved was not brave enough to love her back, she would have closed the book and started a new one. 

All she had to do was to go get those damn scissors. 

(here we are, season one is done, see you in season two <3)

mia

masterlist

ep six <- -> ep eight

© 2023 of Mia (arosesstorm). All Rights Reserved.

[ijustwant2write]

A Secret Romantic-Benedict Bridgerton x Reader x Eloise Bridgerton (Platonic)

(GIF credit to @aryaofoldstones​)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hello! I saw your looking for Bridgerton requests, I would love some Benedict x Eloise sibling fluff! They have such a good dynamic in the show and I need more’

(I wouldn’t mind making another part of this if people want it tbh)

Characters: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader, Eloise Bridgerton x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff

                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Eloise’s gloved hands clung onto her book as she and her family arrived at yet another social event, a ball once again. Her mama had ensured she was dressed to catch the eyes of men, and Eloise knew that meant there would be no room for intelligent conversation. With Daphne now married to the Duke, Eloise had more pressure on her shoulders than she imagined, having to find a suitor of similar standards. However, it wasn’t just her on the market, her brothers were too, especially Benedict (Violet knew it would be extremely difficult to marry off Anthony first, opting for the second eldest son).

Eloise smiled whenever her mama looked her way, though it quickly disappeared once she turned around. Benedict had been instructed to escort her sister around the ball to help seek out suitors, the men knew each other or something about someone; he could help her meet the right one.

“I cannot believe I am here.” Eloise moaned as she looped her arm through her brothers.

“Believe me sister, I do not wish to be here either.”

“Why must you parade me around like a horse at a dressage in order to find a new owner?” Eloise kept catching the men’s gazes, turning up her nose in disgust.

“So dramatic.” he chuckled.

She scoffed.“Well, if you’re going to advise me on who I should be marrying, I shall do the same for you. Now let’s see...”

Eloise looked around the room at all the women, wondering who would be the best match for her brother. Most of these women had no personalities, relying on their outfits to express themselves. Eloise knew of some ladies that were nice, though had nothing in common with her brother.

Eloise shrugged, tugging on her brother’s arm towards the door.“Ah, there’s no one here for us. Let us make haste and leave-”

“Oh no you don’t,” Benedict pulled her back,“we have been strictly told to stay for the night, even if it is just to socialise and...get our names out there.”

Eloise groaned a little too loudly, Ben ducking his head in embarrassment.“How long do these balls go on for?”

“I have never stayed for the full duration.”

“That’s not the answer I want to hear.”

Benedict glanced down at her, somehow only just realising that Eloise had brought a book with her.“Is that book sewed to your hand sister?”

“I brought it just in case I became bored. Which I am already.”

“I shall go and grab us some refreshments. Might as well enjoy them whilst we’re here.”

Eloise let her brother slip away, quickly finding a hiding spot by leaning up against a wall, away from the hustle and bustle of the crowds. She opened her book, continuing where she left off, happy she brought a pencil to scribble down notes for later. The studying never stopped for Eloise. 

“Excuse me?” a woman’s voice interrupted her too soon.

Eloise tried her best to be polite, though her smile came off as sarcastic.“Yes?”

“Sorry,” the woman looked taken back,“I thought you were reading a book that I am reading at the moment, but I was wrong. I’ve disturbed you, I shall leave you alone-”

“Wait,” Eloise had now sparked an interest. No other lady had ever approached her like this,“I don’t mean to be rude. What book had you expected?”

“It’s oh so obvious, but I’ve been reading ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen. It’s the newest book out at the moment, and my mama lets me read it seeing as it involves a woman finding someone to marry. Although, it’s definitely about something deeper, that’s just what I told her.”

“I don’t indulge in romantic novels myself, but I am glad to hear of a female author selling her work.”

“It’s fantastic. And it’s nice to be able to read something without it being snatched out of my hands. Oh, where are my manners? I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Sorry, I’ve been dancing with men all night and none of the conversations have been as riveting as this so far.”

“Why am I not surprised?” they both laughed.“I’m Eloise Bridgerton.”

(Y/N) tried to not show her shock when she heard the surname. They were only the most talked about family, her mama had gone on and on about them, especially when Lady Whistledown mentioned them in her writings. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Might I ask what it is that you are reading?”

“It is to do with my studies. I truly hate these events, so I thought I would ensure my mind was being worked properly.” Eloise realised that could come off as rude, squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment.“I did not mean to offend you by that.”

“It really isn’t any bother.” (Y/N) giggled.“I rather enjoy these just for the dancing and drinks, I find promenading to be more successful in finding a suitor. Though I would much rather sneak off and see if I can get a few more pages in of a book I shouldn’t be reading.”

“Eloise, why must you go wondering off like that...” Benedict’s words trailed off as he approached his sister, spotting a beautiful woman stood by her.

Eloise’s eyes flickered between the two, and she smiled when she saw the adoration in her brother’s eyes. Cheekily taking the two glasses from his hands, she passed one to (Y/N), who awkwardly took it. (Y/N) had gazed upon the Bridgerton men in passing, they were very nice to look at. Of course, she never divulged in any fantasies about them, that would be silly. But seeing one in front of her had taken her breath away.

“Thank you brother.” Eloise said, taking a sip.“This is Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N), a new friend of mine.”

He gently took her free hand in his, bending forwards slightly to kiss it. (Y/N) had this done to her many times, but this was different. Benedict made her feel butterflies in her stomach. Eloise could tell her mama was going to love this.

She cleared her throat.“We were just speaking of art, actually.”

(Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows.“We were talking about books.”

“I was about to move the topic along.”

“What kind of art would that be then?” Benedict asked, knowing what game his sister was playing. 

“The...drawing, kind.”

“Isn’t all art drawn?”

“No, it is also painted.”

“I think artists may sketch out a rough idea before painting.”

“Well you would know brother, seeing as you yourself are an artist.”

“I wouldn’t say that-”

“You paint, Lord Bridgerton?” (Y/N) asked.

“Ah, yes, and I sketch.” he hoped his cheeks weren’t turning red. 

“Anything in particular?”

“Mostly people.”

“Are you both attending the art exhibition my family are holding next week?”

“That’s your families’ exhibit?” Benedict became excited.

“Yes, my father collects a lot of art work. Then mother realised she could make a social event out of it, but at least everyone will be able to admire the work.”

“Would you believe it, we already have it noted down in our social calendar!” Eloise informed (Y/N). Benedict could sense her over-reacting, trying to keep a smile as (Y/N)’s face lit up in excitement. 

“Perfect!” (Y/N) looked back up at Ben, making him stand a little taller.“It will be nice to have someone there who knows about the artwork. It will make for an interesting conversation. Just don’t let my father lecture you, he will talk for far too long! And I know you will be too polite to try and get away.”

“My brother is very polite.” Eloise said.“In fact, I’m surprised he hasn’t-”

“Excuse me for the intrusion,” a young man said from beside (Y/N),“but I was wondering if we could resume our dance lady (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) was smiling, but Eloise knew that look; it was the face women made when a man who made them uncomfortable approached, but they had to remain ladylike and polite.

“Actually my brother just asked her and she said yes. You two best make your way to the floor before the music starts again.” Eloise nudged her brother.

Benedict was confused at his sisters offer, until he locked eyes with (Y/N) again. They were pleading him to sweep her away, she was even leaning away from this man. He had been disrespectful in some way, and he wasn’t letting (Y/N) go through that again (despite only knowing the girl for a few minutes). He smugly smiled at the man, holding out his arm which (Y/N) took a little too quickly. Eloise was happy with herself as the pair walked off, sending the man a death glare when he asked her to dance instead. Once he left, her eyes went back to find her brother, who was already dancing with (Y/N), both smiling and laughing. Her mama was going to be ecstatic about this. 

                                       *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Eloise sat in the drawing room, obviously lounging with a book. Her younger siblings were being irritating as usual, running around her in circles. Before they arrived, she had peace. Eloise wanted a few moments alone, because she knew her mama would be bursting with questions about the night before.

“Ah, there you are.” Violet said as she walked in.

The book flopped into Eloise’s lap, a frown on her face. There goes her reading time.

“So, how was last night? Did you meet anyone?” her mama sat beside her.“You two, go play outside if you’re going to run around please.”

The children stopped as their mama spoke, sending each other devilish grins before they ran out of the room again, their giggling echoing down the halls. Violet went to shout after them, but decided to leave it be, there were more pressing matters.

“Well mama, do you see any suitors?” Eloise gestured around her.

Violet sighed.“Did you even try last night?”

“My life will not be reduced to a single night where I was forced to peacock around in order to please a man.”

“Oh, Eloise, must you make everything so dramatic?”

“Funny, Benedict said the same thing.”

“Actually, where is your brother? I have not seen him all morning.”

“He went out.” Eloise was relieved that the focus would now be off of her.“He’s calling upon a lady.”

Violet’s eyes widened.“What? When? Who?”

“Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“(Y/L/N)? They are quite reputable.”

Eloise rolled her eyes.“Mama, she is a lovely girl. I don’t think you should just judge her on what family she comes from.”

“Oh, so you approve of this girl?”

“I...I mean...Well, I only spoke with her for a mere few minutes.”

“But?”

Eloise let out a huff.“I enjoyed her company. I think Benedict likes her. I didn’t see him for the rest of the night until it was time to leave. He spent all his time with her.”

Violet became overjoyed.“Oh, what marvelous news! I wish he had told me. Do you know what he took to her? Flowers? Food?”

“I have no idea mama. Just wait for his return and he will tell you all the details. I am not a psychic.”

Violet was impatient as she awaited the return of her son. Poor Collin had also been questioned when he showed up in the drawing room, but he had overslept in bed, waking with a terrible headache. It seemed that it was about to come back to him when his mama bombarded him with questions as to why he hadn’t called upon anyone that morning. Eloise kept her giggles quiet, ducking behind her book when Collin sent her daggers.

Poor Benedict had no idea what was in store for him. His cheeks were aching from how much he was smiling. He wasn’t surprised when he arrived at the (Y/L/N)’s house and saw multiple callers for (Y/N). However, jealousy rose inside him when he thought about these men dancing with her, trying to convince her that they were the man to marry. He held a beautiful bouquet of flowers, remembering that (Y/N) had mentioned her favourite the night before. Looking around at any other flowers she received, he was glad to see no other gentleman had chose it. Surely that would show he was listening? He endured sonnets, stories, songs and boasting from the other men, trying not to show his dissatisfaction as each one stepped forward. There was pressure that her parents were there, especially when he realised he was the last gentleman, everyone else had left.

(Y/N) had been incredibly anxious when she saw Benedict that morning. He had been the only man she genuinely smiled at, hoping he came at his own will, not forced by his mama. The night before had been the best ball (Y/N) had ever been to. Benedict was sweet, charming, handsome and interesting. They were able to talk about anything and everything, no small talk involved like all the other men she danced with. He had swooned her, and here he was, calling upon her. 

Back at the Bridgerton house, Violet had not sat down since talking Collin’s ear off. Eloise was still in the drawing room with her, as were her two youngest siblings, munching on biscuits as they threw questions at their mama. She did not have all the answers, sometimes not even hearing them speak for she was too deep in her thoughts. At one point, she did sit, but beside the window, o the lookout for any signs of her son. When a carriage pulled up in front of the house, Violet leapt out of her seat, startling her children. She made a beeline to the door, standing there with her hands clasped together. When Benedict walked in, he too flinched, not expecting his mama to be there.

“Mama, how long have you been stood there?” Benedict asked as he walked past her, pinching a biscuit from his brother’s plate.

“She’s been waiting for you.” Eloise explained, also excited to hear about his calling.

“I hope you sat down at some point.” he joked, sitting beside Eloise and slouching.

Violet hurried to sit on the sofa across him.“You didn’t tell me you were calling on a lady this morning.”

“Well, we got back late from the ball yesterday evening, and I had to leave early to ensure I got there in good time. Though it seemed every other man thought that too.”

“There were many men there?” 

“Yes, quite a few.”

Eloise straightened up at her brother’s grumpy expression.“You really like her!”

“How wonderful!” Violet gushed. 

“Do not get ahead of yourselves.”

“But you do, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t have called on her.”

Ben was lost for words. He couldn’t argue with that, and he did like seeing his mama happy.“Yes, yes I do. And it would seem she reciprocates the feelings.”

“This is such good news! I must see what our social calendar looks like, we must ensure you two spend time together.”

“Actually mama-” Eloise went to tell her about the art exhibit until Ben interrupted.

“Good idea mama.” he nodded, smiling at her as she walked away, a spring in her step. Once she was gone, he let out a big breath.“I just needed a moment without questions from her.”

“Well, you’re going to have questions from me.” Eloise angled her body to face him, her elbow perched on the sofa with her face resting in her hand.“I didn’t think you were going to call upon her. Are my match making skills really that good?”

“I hate to admit it, but yes, you have done an excellent job.” Benedict felt relaxed thinking about (Y/N).

“So, what happened this morning?”

“I took her flowers, she told me her favourites last night, and then I had to sit there whilst her other gentleman callers desperately tried to impress her. It was agony! Finally I was able to have time with her, and it was just...I don’t know how to put it into words.”

“Did you bring her anything else?”

Benedict became bashful.“I brought her a sketchbook, like the one I have. She mentioned how she used to often sketch when she was younger. I thought it would be a unique gift.”

“Benedict, you truly are a romantic at heart.”

“For her I am, yes.”

Eloise smiled for her brother, until a smirk fell on his face.“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Aw, is someone also a secret romantic?”

“No!” Eloise protested, quickly grabbing her book again.“I am just happy you found someone.”

“And you helped, because you secretly want everyone to find someone.”

“No I don’t! You’re ruining this moment now Benedict.”

“Don’t worry Eloise, you’ll find someone.” Ben joked.

She groaned.“You are insufferable...but I still want to go to that art exhibit.”

“To see love bloom?”

“N-no, to see the art work.”

“Of course, of course. But, thank you Eloise.”

She tried not to smile, but couldn’t help it.“You’re welcome.”

[sumsebien]

I love your series so much! I was wondering if you could do head cannons for them having a baby?

omgg yass i already had a request for Y/N giving birth so i’ll save the actual delivery for that fic. here are some pregnancy and post-pregnancy canons

alrighttt so both friedrich and y/n bridgerton wanted kids from the get-go

he wanted as many as you are willing to have, which is around 3 or 4 but definitely not 8

(there is no way you were doing what Mama did)

 friedrich did not leave your side for the entirety of the first pregnancy

not even to go riding in the woods

he always wanted to know where you are at all times or he’d freak out and send all his guards searching the estate for you

one time you sneaked down to the kitchen for some midnight cravings and was caught by one of the guards that friedrich sent out to look for you

it was embarrassing

next time you did that, you made sure to place a note on your pillow so he would let you eat in peace

but friedrich is not the only one who is overly protective over you

you had three older brothers and they knew no boundaries when it comes to their sister

friedrich told them about your late night strolls down to the kitchen and they all began to side with one another

“he’s right, sister. you shouldn’t walk down the stairs alone at night,” benedict said

to which anthony added, “or maybe not walk down the stairs at all.”

“then how am i supposed to go anywhere?”

“have someone carry you. or maybe just stay at home,” colin replied

but you had your two mamas and daphne on your side so maybe you and friedrich were even

he’d do a bunch of adorable things that you had never seen him do before

exhibit A: friedrich had a baby voice 10x times higher than his normal speaking voice whenever he was talking to the baby inside your stomach

there was a german version too and it went even higher

he’d get looks from you but it did not discourage him in the least

“don’t act like you don’t do the same darling”

okay so you do have your own baby voice

but!

it’s nothing new, you’ve been using it for years

he would regularly sing nursery rhymes or just talk about his day in german and english

you just knew that by the time this baby was born, both you and the baby would start speaking german

when he found out his baby was a girl

he was absolute overjoyed

because he always wanted to have another y/n running around

(and because Colin now owed him 5 quids)

after the birth, he was just as doting as he had been

but instead of having just you to hover over, he had your little girl as well

he wanted to reconstruct your entire bedroom so that it would connect to the nursery but you firmly said no

“let us enjoy our little girl while she’s still small. it’s not going to be for long”

that would send him into frantic mode

because he could never imagine his little girl growing up and joining society and getting married

“no what do you mean she will get married?”

“friedrich, it’s inevitable.”

“well i will make it evitable.”

his favorite thing that she did was the gummy smiles of hers during sleep

“look, look! she’s doing it again!” he whispered, moving only his head so he would not disturb the sleeping angel in his arms

he always wanted to be there to comfort his little girl when she cried or needed a change of diaper

frederica was there to witness it

they were walking down the halls when suddenly friedrich excused himself, racing to your daughter’s room

she was crying

probably from waking up

and he just knew

he was very helpful in general

a fast learner and very enthusiastic

because he hadn’t had much experience, he tended to fret over the little things sometimes

but you had experience with your little baby siblings and you assured him everytime that he was a wonderful father and husband and there was no one luckier in the world than you and your daughter

[newtonsheffield]

I think you should share the drunk Kate abduction-story with everyone now :)

You are just determined to embarrass me for all of my drunk antics aren’t you? 🤣😂

I mean, I deserve it but still.

Yes, this is yet another one of my drunken disasters.

Matthew really didn’t mind being the designated driver for The Bridgerton Wives Club and Edwina (an honorary member he was assured). He wasn’t one of those men who thought that if his wife went out without him she was going to hook up with a stranger in a dingy corner. And he prescribed to the theory that it was healthy for partners to have friends outside of each other.

And Edwina had fun when she went out with Kate,and Sophie, and Lucy, and Penelope always coming back with some ridiculous story as she curled up against him afterwards, sleepily sighing against his neck, her hands pulling him closer. It was nice to see her have fun, her eyes bright with excitement making her look even more heartstoppingly beautiful than she already was. When she saw him approach in the bar and called out

“Matty! There’s my little goosey!” With a little honk, Her lips just a little sloppy on his cheek as she tugged him down until his head was against her chest. “You look so handsome, I just wanna-”

“Oop! Maybe you can tell me later, Honey!” He always cut across her.

So no, he didn’t mind picking up her and her friends, what he did mind was her sister. Matthew had a healthy respect,even affection of his sister in law, Kate. She was smart, and successful, and kind, and she made very nice barfi. But when she had been drinking, the smart, confident woman who had her life together disappeared, and a monster was born in her place. Kate had to be herded into the car like a startled cat to begin with, singing at the top of her lungs, several coasters and a glass from the bar clutched in her hands. And then she always asked very embarrassing questions

“Matt, is Edwina the best sex you’ve ever had?” Matt nearly swerved the car. “I’m pretty sure Anthony’s the best I’ve ever had. Sometimes when I see him, like honestly Matt, all I can think is Rail me Daddy.” Her eyes wide, her words a little slurred, and Matt’s cheeks red.

“Gregory’s definitely the best I’ve had. He’s very firm and gentle.” Lucy hummed beside her, and Matthew prayed for the car ride to finish soon, as Edwina’s hand was settled dangerously on his thigh. Just as Penelope and Sophie started to share there own stories.

It was always some variation on that theme, and Matt had thought that it honestly couldn’t be any worse. Until it was. Kate, mercifully fell asleep for most of the car ride, and Matthew got to enjoy his new wife’s filthy promises (that she certainly wasn’t going to follow through with tonight, but it was a little hilarious to hear) in relative peace after dropping the other girls home, always leaving Kate for last.

He pulled up in front of the house, watching as the curtain flicked at the window, and the motion seemed to wake Kate just as Matthew opened the door. Kate suddenly looked up at him, her eyes like saucers and let out a blood curdling scream. Matthew’s heart was pounding as he reached down for her,

“Kate are you hurt, what’s happening?” Panic rising high in his throat.

“HELP HELP HELP I’M BEING ABDUCTED!” her voice echoing through the quiet street, and Matthew panicked.

“Kate, it’s Matthew Bagwell, your brother in law!” He said, feeling more than a little ridiculous.

He heard the tell tale sound of the door slamming closed behind him, frantic footsteps and then he was shoved roughly backwards. “Get out of the way, what have you done?!” Anthony said harshly.

“I didn’t do anything she just started screaming!”

“HELP HELP HELP” Kate was still yelling, her arms thrashing around in a slightly ridiculous motion,

“Kate, honey, it’s Anthony.” Kate stopped moving immediately at the sound of her husband’s voice, her body reacting instinctively her face breaking into a slightly brilliant smile as though nothing had just happened.

“Oh hey, Handsome.”

It was all Matthew could do not to scream a loud expletive into the night. And it’s probably just as well he didn’t because a Police car pulled up at the curb, a terrifyingly large man stepping out.

“Sir, are you bothering this woman? We’ve had reports of a disturbance.” Matthew saw the curtains flick at the window of the Smyth-smith’s next door.

“I was just driving my sister in law home, she’s pretty drunk. Her husband will tell you.” Matthew said a little resignedly, gesturing to Anthony who looked back at him blankly, shrugged with a little glint in his eyes and said

“Officer I’ve never seen this man before in my life.” And marched Kate back inside.

And as she disappeared into her house with a wave and a honk, Matthew swore that would be the last time he ever drove Kate Bridgerton home.

It wasn’t.