#Benedict bridgerton fanfic

[laremsworld]

*Anthony after finding out that Eloise and Francesca are both gay*

Anthony: So you actually like girls and you actually like girls, too?

Eloise and Francesca: *nodding shyly*

Anthony: great, just great. İs there anyone in this house who actually likes boys?

Benedict:

Everyone:

Benedict: Well, now that you brought it up…

[lovableapocalypse]

birds of a feather

benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

wc- 900ish

warnings- none, i think!

a/n- season three fueled this lolol. i love benedict he's the best bridgerton and i stand by that. anywayyy here's a cute short fic. i hope you guys like. love u all. send any request you want! i need to start writing again. (also this is the first fic ive written/published in like 7 months so sorry if im rusty lolol.) also title inspired by billie's new song. ok bye love u.

Benedict was uncomfortable. He was trying his best to avoid the bustling mamas and crowded dance floor, but seemed to be swept in the middle of it all. He sought comfort in the refreshments table but even there his luck was thin. 

Tired of making horribly awkward eye contact with debutantes and failing to find any more of his siblings to hide behind, he shifted quickly out of the ball and into the quiet anteroom. Glancing over his shoulder and turning a corner, he bumped into a figure with an “Oomph.”

He recovered and caught the mysterious figure before they fell. 

“My apologies.” He spoke, helping who he now recognized to be a lady stand upright. 

You turned to face him more fully, caught off guard. “That’s alright.” You were partly breathless from the unexpected run in. 

It was just the two of you in the secluded room. “Hiding as well, I presume?” You spoke. 

Benedict laughed, “Yes.” 

You smiled in return. “It’s refreshing to know someone shares a similar distaste for these things at times.”

“Very much so.” He sighed and raised his brows, his hands finding his hips. 

You went to speak again, but heard heavy footsteps approaching from the crowded party. You looked to Benedict who seemed to read your mind, quickly grabbing your arm and shoving you two around the corner, flush against the wall. His hand stayed attached to your arm as you panted and tried your best to stay unnoticed. 

The footsteps faded and you glanced sideways at the Bridgerton as they did. Holding in your amusement was difficult and when you were sure it was safe to, you let out a laugh. Benedict, despite becoming somewhat flustered in your hasty escape, joined in your laughter. 

You sighed and rolled your head to glance at the man again. His smile was contagious and you were happy to have a moment alone with him. Even if it was improper in society’s eyes. 

Sighing you spoke, “I should probably return soon. Before my absence becomes anymore obvious.” 

“Is your attendance of great importance?” Benedict questioned. 

“Partly.” 

“I see.”

You smirked as he took in your appearance. “If you find your way back, I’d be happy to keep you company. Maybe everyone will keep their distance if we seem engaged thoroughly with one another.”

You watched his face as he contemplated your offer. He nodded slightly, agreeing. 

Only then did you realize he was still holding onto your arm. He glanced down as well, gently releasing you from his grasp. You peeled yourself off the wall and made your way back to the ball, but not before looking back once more and meeting his eyes. 

You felt your face flush as you reentered the extravagant event. It was nice to have shared a moment away from everyone. You greeted more people and quickly became engaged in dull conversation with guests, thrown right back into the chaos of the function. 

Benedict was still loitering in your previous hiding spot. He needed a moment. He was surprised to have found someone else avoiding the party as well. Especially a beautiful woman like yourself. 

Taking a deep breath and putting on a brave face, he made his return to the ball. His eyes cast around the room searching for you. He was happy to take you up on your offer and stick by your side for the rest of the night. He located you near the balcony and made his way. 

You were nodding your head along in distracted agreement when he interrupted. 

“I’m sorry to intrude,” he started, “but I’m afraid I owe the miss a dance.”

You smiled as you took Benedict’s outstretched hand, sending a half-hearted apology to the interrupted guest. He led you to the dance floor as a new song poured out of the ensemble’s strings. 

You followed his lead in a content silence, merely enjoying each other’s presence. He smiled down at you, leaning close in a whisper. “Where have you been all night? We could have avoided hiding all together if I had found you sooner.”

“I’m afraid more people wanted to converse with me than necessary. A bit annoying, truly.”

“Understandable. I was avoiding conversation myself when I snuck off.”

You smiled and he pulled you closer, enjoying the movement of your bodies. The song came to an end and you were disappointed in having to face the crowd again. Benedict held his arm out for you and you graciously accepted. 

“There you are!” 

You turned together and came face to face with Violet Bridgerton. 

“I was wondering where you two ran off to. Almost sent Anthony to find you until I spotted you on the dance floor.” 

“Ah, yes Mother.” Benedict answered. “We just needed a moment.”

She nodded in understanding before stepping closer, “Do I need to remind you this ball was thrown in your honor? I understand you two are newlywed, but please refrain from ditching your own party.”

You blushed and hid your face in Benedict’s shoulder.

“Yes, Mother.” He laughed. 

“Thank you.” She smiled and sent you her undeniable look of understanding. 

“We were not as sly as I hoped.” You mumbled. 

“Next time warn me before you run off so we can go together.” He added.  

Laughing, you faced him and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Of course, husband.” 

[yeollie-plz]

Rendezvous

Benedict Bridgerton x F! Reader

Synopsis: The ball was dreadfully boring, but you know what isn’t boring? Sneaking off to the library with Benedict.

Genre: smut!!, somehow I snuck some fluff in there

Warnings: smut, 18+ content, sneaking around, kissing, oral sex, public sex, handjobs, exhibitionism, choking

All gif credits to owners!

"Ben...please," you moaned out.

Currently the man in question was on his knees, hands bunching your dress up to your hips as his tongue made quick work of your pussy. His hot breath fanned out over your soaked folds as he lapped at your center.

He kept his rhythm as he willed you to your peak, working your bud in quick circles. Both of you knew you didn't have much time. Someone could catch you at any moment and if you weren't so caught up in the moment you might have even been scared of this fact.

Benedict's tongue flicked your clit particularly hard, causing your hips to jerk forward and your hands to grip his hair, roughly. The feeling of you pulling his hair had him moaning, the vibration causing you to grip the follicles once again.

This time his hands gripped onto your thighs. Fingers pushing so deeply into your soft flesh that you were sure they were to leave bruises.

Another moan of his name egged him on, making him move his tongue inhumanly faster. Working it in figure eights in an attempt to push you over your edge, knowing how much you both needed it. And needed to return to the ball...

The library wall you were pushed against almost twenty minutes ago was now lacking some of the books that once lay on its shelves. With the aggressive kisses that had you gripping for anything that could center you and the way Benedict had lifted you up onto one of them just to be able to get even closer to you. A maid was sure to find this in the morning and question the activities that had graced this room the night prior, but you were not one to focus on the future. Not when the present was so, so distracting.

And oh so delicious. How could a tongue feel so good? How did he fell so good?

Your head tossed back as your stomach began to tighten with your impending orgasm. Just as your vision was beginning to turn fuzzy, there was voices from outside the door. Very distinct voices and footsteps coming towards the very room you two currently occupied.

Benedict's head snapped up to meet your eyes. Your orgasm long since forgotten as he quickly pulled away from between your legs. He rose to his feet pushing your dress back down as he did so. The two of you glanced around trying to think of what to do.

Right as your eyes landed on a desk a few steps to your right so did his. It was a large desk and if the two of you were determined, the both of you could fit under there without being seen.

The doorknob turned and you both rushed over to the desk, pushing your bodies under it just in time for the voices to enter the room. The two of you were confined under the desk, your back against his chest as you tried to catch your breath not wanting to give yourselves away.

The group continued to chat across the room. Your breath had finally began evening out just as Benedict leant down to whisper into your ear.

"Compromising position we've found ourselves in, Miss Y/L/N." The statement almost had you letting out a giggle.

"We've been finding ourselves in many compromising positions as of late, Mr. Bridgerton." You whispered back, this statement did have Benedict letting out a low chuckle. The sound resonating in your back, the lift of his chest making you lift forward as well.

That's when you felt it, his hardened member currently sitting very uncomfortably in his tight pants. He knew you had realized too, with how your body stiffened as it rubbed against your hip bone.

"I apologize, my dear, but with our efforts earlier and the way you are close to me now. Well, it might not go away for a minute." His head hung low, almost resting on your shoulder. His lips were dangerously close to that sweet spot between your neck and collarbone.

And as he exhaled, the cold air that ghosted your skin caused a chill to run down your spine. Your ass rubbed against Benedict's boner. His hands gripped onto your hips in warning, head snapping back up as if you could see the cold stare that was surely gracing his face.

"My love..." He warned, as if the knuckles that were now turning white with how tightly he held your body wasn't warning enough.

The voices were clear on the other side of the room so you disregarded his warnings and reached your hand behind you instead. Your hand made contact with his muscular thigh first. Opting for a light touch instead of the rough one he was still currently using on you.

But as your fingers got closer to the buttons of his breeches, all reserves that he might have had were thrown out the window. Instead his own hands were swatting yours away to aid you in undoing his pants.

This satisfied you, a smirk gracing your lips as he laced his fingers with yours and pulled your hand under the flap of his pants. The heat that radiated off of his skin felt like hot candle wax as your smooth fingertips danced along hip. You lifted up ever so slightly, to be able to get a better grip of him and Benedict almost groaned out at the lack of connection. Yet, he bit his tongue and let you get to work. Knowing that if he were to complain, even a little bit, you would stop.

He knew you too well after months of your little rendezvous to ever show his ass or have his ass handed to him instead.

So that’s why Benedict sat on his hands and let you take control. Well, he didn’t actually sit on his hands, no, those were all over you. As soon as your hand made contact with his almost painful member, his were in your hair pulling your head back for easier access to your neck.

He kissed down from your chin, across your collar bone, and so devilishly close to your breasts. As you worked his cock agonizingly slowly. Your hand gripped the base of it working up and down it slowly, teasing the tip as you reached it.

If they were anywhere else, he would’ve asked her to go faster, begged her even. But right here, right now he almost thanked her for taking her time, or else he lose himself.

Footsteps grew even closer to your hiding spot, but you did not stop your motions. Actually, you began to pick up your pace a bit. Benedict who was surprisingly composing himself well only moments before was now forced to cover his mouth with a hand in order to stifle any sounds that might escape him.

The desk shifted slightly, someone was now leaning against it. You almost let out a gasp in shock, your hand ceased its movements. Benedict’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, not even noticing the person just above him. He was way too focused on what he thought was you teasing him. So his hands gripped onto your neck and tightened.

Something that, in normal circumstances, would egg you on. But instead it had you grabbing his wrist in warning, his grip instantly relaxed unsure if he had harmed you. In an effort to calm his nerves and warn him of your new friends, you snapped your head around to look at him. Your finger going back and forth between a shushing motion and pointing above the two of you.

He soon got the hint and nodded slowly. Although, you could tell by how his eyes darken that he didn’t much care for the company.

It was shocking. A man who usually was so plagued with jealously was currently excited by the prospect of getting caught?

But as soon as the company was gained it was stalking off the other side of the room again. You wanted to groan at how long it was taking them to leave. Most people would have returned to the party by now. You should’ve returned to the party by now. Oh, your poor mama would be so worried. Wait, Benedict…

You shook the thoughts of your mama out of your head and returned them to the man under you. Decidedly, you slowly flipped yourself around to face him. You were now on your knees, ass pressed firmly into the wood of the other side of the desk.

Benedict smirked at the look of you bent over for him, hands holding the sides of your face trying to pull your lips up to his. Your obliged and kissed him. It had been much too long since his lips had been on yours. Almost forty minutes now, by your calculations. Much, much too long.

Not too long into the kiss you brought your hand back to his abused cock. He bit your lip as your fingers gathered up the precum that was beading at his tip.

You pulled your lips from his long enough to push your fingers into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around your digits, lapping up all of his essence. Your eyes gleamed at the sight.

With your fingers still in his mouth he smirked, he grabbed your wrist to slowly pull this out, kissing the tips of your fingers before returning your hand to his member. Not too soon after he returned his lips to yours.

He tried to match your rhythm on his dick with the rhythm of his lips. Moaning into your mouth every time your hand wrapped around the head of his cock.

All the teasing of the night was bringing him quickly to his orgasm. So as his hips bucked up into your hand you worked him faster to help him reach his peak.

Benedict’s hips stuttered as you detached your lips from his only to bring them down to his sensitive tip. You licked him quickly before sinking down fully, taking almost his full length inside of your mouth.

This is what sent him over the edge as you pulled your head back and sunk down once again he was coming undone inside of your waiting mouth. You swallowed down all of his seed as he thrust up into your mouth. Hands gripping your hair and pulling at it.

And just as the last shocks of his orgasm were subsiding he let his head knock back into the heavy wooden desk. Your eyes popped up to him in shock as you pulled yourself quickly off of his now spent cock.

He let out a very small whimper at the disregard for his sensitivity and looked at you. The hurt that conveyed his face for a second switched quickly to one of equal concern as he realized what had happened.

The conversation just on the other side of you two stopped in favor of looking over to your hiding place.

“What was that?” A voice said. More grunts of confusion came from some of the others.

You held your breath as the footsteps came closer to you once again. No, no, no this was not how the two of you were supposed to be caught. You would be ruined and forced to marry Benedict. Not that that would be a bad thing, I mean you did love him. But you wanted the proposal to come on your own time, not like this.

Just as the group was about to come around the edge of the desk, the door to the library opened once again and a servant ushered the group to an important matter. They left the room and the door closed behind them.

You took just a second before you were popping your head over the edge of the desk to check to coast was clear. “They are gone.” You said to no one apparently because Benedict was already fully standing up and offering you his hand to help you.

When you both returned to your feet, and clothes were out back into their rightful places, you looked at the man before you. His eyes glowed in the candlelight. His dark hair somehow still perfect even though you were sure you had ruined it. And that jawline…this man was perfect.

He must have felt your eyes on him because in that moment he looked over at you and cocked an eyebrow. You only smiled and shook your head. That’s when he burst out laughing.

“What? What’s so funny?” You tried to question but he just continued laughing and eventually you laughed too.

The two of you laughed for what felt like five minutes before finally running out of breath. Stomachs hurting from the giggle spell.

“I love you.” He said all of a sudden, now overly serious.

“I love you. ” You matched his energy as you replied.

“It’s a wonder they didn’t notice this mess.” Benedict gestured to the pile of books you had knocked over when you had originally came into the room.

“Probably a good thing they didn’t. Wouldn’t want us getting caught.” You didn’t look at him, opting for continuing to stare at the books instead.

“If it’s with you, I wouldn’t mind getting caught.”

Now you looked at him, “You’d so easily sully my reputation?” You questioned, with a hint of jest.

He smiled, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You nodded. You did know what he meant.

He cleared his throat and closed the distance between the two of you.

“We’ve been gone a while now.” He started as he brought his hands to your hips once again. “Might as well be gone even longer.” He paused again this time to bring his face closer to yours, his breath fanning out over your face.

“Where were we?” He asked as he lifted you up onto the desk you were once hiding under.

“Oh, that’s right.” Benedict said as he brought his lips to yours.

[cupofjoekeery]

Benedict Bridgerton Fic recommendations!

(New fic rec layout 4/9/24) Last updated: 2/6/24 Main fic rec masterlist Benedict Bridgerton Fic recommendations! Bridgerton Shade of Blue - @dragon-kazansky Garden of Secrets - @dreamwritesimagines Unwritten - @peterpparkrr Painter's muse - @parkerslatte Sketches of the Heart - @osterfield-holland-andcompany Love in Bloom - @bosbas When the World is free - @fayes-fics (18+ MDNI) Over the Garden Wall - @homeofthepeculiar (18+ MDNI) Something in our seas - @homeofthepeculiar (18+ MDNI)

[frost-queen]

Colours we aspire to be (Maid!reader x Benedict Bridgerton)

Requested by anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m, @erikasurfer

Summary: You are Gregory's maid and in no position of getting close to one of the lords at the house. Yet an artistic demand allows colours to explode with love. Growing closer to each other, you fall more in love. Knowing it is wrong. When Violet finds one of his paintings of you, she is over the moon. Her husband not so much, certainly not when his son threatens to run away with you. (apologies I changed it to Gregory instead of baby Eloise since I thought Ben would be too young then.)

“I’m going to get you.” – you called out playfully. Bended a bit through your knees, hands out as you chased after a young Gregory. Little Gregory of two of age, laughed loud, moving as fast as he could, hands bouncing up and down. You walked behind him making sure you weren’t catching him quickly. – “Gregory…” – you said sweetly, calling him over. – “I’m coming to tickle you.” – you teased making Gregory laugh even louder. His laughter filled the hallways. There was an open door as Gregory ran into it. You went after him, grabbing him from behind. – “Got you.” – you said laughing as you pulled him onto your lap. Smothering him with kisses.

“Ben.” – Gregory let out with grabby hands. It made you look up, gasping loud as you were unaware lord Bridgerton was in the room with you. Benedict looked away from his painting to the two of you. Barely fazed by the barge in, turning his gaze to his painting once more. You got up, curtsying deep for him. – “Apologies my lord.” – you said, keeping your gaze to the ground. Straightening your posture once more, you took Gregory’s hand. – “I shan’t disturb you any further.” – you addressed about to take your leave. – “It is quite alright.” – he responded, furrowing his brows at his painting. – “It seems I have lost inspiration anyways.”

Benedict took a step back to admire his painting. Sighing loud as he didn’t like one bit of it. – “I hope inspiration will come to you soon, my lord.” – you bowed to him, ready to take Gregory with you if Benedict hadn’t stopped you. – “Y/n, right?” – he asked not sure if he remembered Gregory’s handmaidens name correctly. – “That I am, my lord.” – you responded. – “Can you come and see what I am doing wrong.” – he asked, leaving room for you to join. His sudden request made you blink surprised.

“My lord I do not believe I will be of much help.” – you told him. – “Come, come.” – Benedict moved a bit closer, reaching his hand out to grab your wrist. You nearly tripped over your own feet when he pulled you closer to the canvas. Gregory having sat himself down to lay on the floor. – “Tell me.” – Benedict gestured at the painting wanting your opinion. You didn’t dare to look at his painting, feeling as if you were overstepping. Benedict took you gently by the chin, moving your face forwards to look. – “I want your honest truth Y/n.” – he took a step back to allow you to see.

You gazed upon the painting, clearly seeing he was indeed missing inspiration. – “What do you think I should do?” – he asked. – “I…I don’t know… my lord.” – you told him, taking a step back. Benedict moved closer to the painting to be able to look at you properly. – “You surely must have some insight? Inspiration or dreams to fill this canvas?” – he wanted to know. – “Girls like myself do not dream.” – you told him honestly. It made Benedict blink in shock. – “You… you surely must.” – he insisted upon. You shook your head to tell him otherwise. – “Everyone has dreams.” – he let out with a laugh.

“I cannot afford dreams, my lord.” – you answered returning to Gregory. You picked him up from the ground, holding him in your arms. Benedict kept staring, watching you leave with Gregory. You returned to the nursery with Gregory. Benedict left his painting for what it was, going downstairs. Edmund was on his way to the drawing room when he saw his son. Quirking his eyebrow up at his son’s expression. – “Is something the matter son?” – he asked. Benedict shook his head thoughtfully. They entered the drawing room together. Anthony sitting with Violet in the sofa’s. A young Eloise playing cards with Colin.

There was a knock on the door as you entered with Gregory. Violet got up, coming over. – “He has been washed and properly bathed, Lady Bridgerton.” – you told her, allowing her to take Gregory from you. Violet nodded, returning with Gregory to Edmund. You wanted to lower your gaze as your eyes locked on Benedict. He clearly was staring at you, a puzzling expression on his face. Quickly lowering your gaze, you left the drawing room. Waiting outside in the hallway till you were called back in again to come and fetch Gregory.

You were putting Gregory to bed, tugging him in when you heard the door creaking open. You just thought it would be Violet or Edmund to give their son a goodnight kiss. – “I’m just putting him to bed, my lady.” – you said out loud, rubbing Gregory over his stomach. You didn’t hear an answer, making you wonder if you misheard the door opening. You turned around, startled by Benedict standing in the nursery with you. The fright made your back hit Gregory’s bed hard. – “My… my apologies Y/n, I didn’t mean to startle you.” – he spoke with a sheepish smile.

“It is quite alright my lord.” – you responded, keeping a hand on your beating heart. Trying to steady it down as there was no danger. You stepped aside for him to say goodnight to Gregory. – “I’ll let you say your goodnights.” – you told him. – “I…I actually came here for you, Y/n.” – Benedict replied making you widen your eyes. – “For… for me?” – Confused you didn’t understood what overcame the lord.

Benedict nodded as you walked away from Gregory. Leaving the room, closing it behind you. Standing in the nursery, you started to collect toys from the ground to clean up. – “I…I came here to talk to you about your…dreams.” – Benedict spoke.

Stopping mid-way, you were stunned. – “My dreams?” – you answered confused. – “I already told you I cannot afford dreams.” – you reminded him, continue to clean up the room. Benedict came nearer, wanting to look at your face. – “But you must have.” – he called out as you turned your posture away from him. – “I do not!” – you made clear, not wanting to engage with it further. Of course you had dreams. You were just taught to never express them. It wasn’t proper for a girl of your station to have dreams. To see the world in a different way for it would only cause heartbreak. Benedict went around you to look at you once more. – “Y/n you can tell me.” – he said as it infuriated you.

“Why are you so interested in whether I have dreams or not?” – you told him, looking him dead in the eye. Benedict swallowed hard, staring into your eyes. – “I am insignificant…” – you added in a softer tone, holding a few of Gregory’s toys. – “Because I can see it in your eyes.” – Benedict spoke, taking a few toys from you. Tossing them into the play chest. His answer made you enlarge your gaze in wonder. – “There is a whole world hiding inside of you.”  – he said. – “There is not.” – you sighed out, tossing the last of the toys in the chest.

Benedict grabbed for your hands as your first reaction was to pull away. Remembering your place all too well. Benedict grabbed them again, lifting them a bit up as you didn’t pull away this time. – “I cannot have dreams.” – you warned him. – “Open yourself up to it Y/n.” – he whispered out, pulling you gently closer to him. Pressing your lips together, shaking your head, you couldn’t give in to it. – “Close your eyes… it will help.” – he told you.

You sighed loud, finding it extremely silly. – “If… and I mean if I let it out, will you stop bothering me?” – you wanted to know as you couldn’t handle his pestering you over silly dreams. – “I can’t promise you that.” – he answered making you want to punch him in the shoulder. – “Who’s to say what your dreams will be?” – he added pulling his shoulders up cheekily. Exhaling loud, you hated yourself for giving into it. You closed your eyes, pulling your hands out of his. Fidgeting a bit with your skirt nervously. – “When I… I close my eyes…” – you started hesitant.

“I see…” – you added, opening your eyes with a deep sigh. – “I cannot do this.” – moving your hands up, you gave up. – “No, no, no Y/n you were doing wonderful.” – Benedict called out, wanting you to continue. – “This is insane.” – you told him. He simply gestured at you to begin anew, moving aside somewhere behind you. Taking in a deep breath, you closed your eyes again. – “Every night…” – you began, biting your lip nervous. – “The brightest colours fill my head.” – you added with a bit more confidence as you could see explosions of colours in your mind. 

“I think of what the world could be, a vision of the one I see. All those dreams for the world I want to make.” – you expressed with passion. Benedict stared at you, envisioning your dreams along. A smile curled up as he felt himself fall in love. Slowly you opened your eyes once more, feeling a bit embarrassed. You were afraid to look at him, wondering what he would think of you. Benedict walked up to you, leaving a quick kiss on your cheek.

“You’ve inspired me.” – was the only thing he said before running out of the nursery. Shocked, you gently touched your cheek where his lips had touched. Benedict ran up to his room, taking out a blank canvas. The entire night he worked. First with pencil, drawing your face from memory. Then the colours came. Staining his fingers as he blessed the canvas with wonders of colours behind you. As if the colours were bursting out of you. For the world you were going to make.

The next morning, you were startled when Benedict burst into the nursery. Panting loud. The first thing you noticed was the paint smudges on his fingers and face. – “You must come with me.” – he said, rushing up to you. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you up from the ground. Already tugging at you to come along. You protested a bit as Gregory still sat on the ground. – “Gregory, my lord!” – you said firm, pulling yourself free. You couldn’t leave him alone. Picking Gregory up, Benedict took you by the elbow, taking you along.

“My lord you promised to leave me alone.” – you told him as it wasn’t your place to be this close to him. – “I promised no such thing.” – he reminded you with a charming smile. You panicked a bit, hoping no one would see you. Benedict wanted to push you into his room as you gasped loud. Holding one hand firm onto the door opening, not wanting to enter any further. – “I cannot!” – you made clear, holding Gregory on your arm. – “You must.” – Benedict called out, pushing on your back to get you into his room.

“My lord I cannot.” – you tried to make him see, holding your position with every might. Benedict sighed deep, tickling you under your arm. It made you laugh, removing your arm from the frame as he could push you inside. You stumbled into his room, holding Gregory tight in your embrace. Benedict shut his door, approaching you. You blinked surprised when he took Gregory from you. Giving him a soft kiss against his cheek before setting him down. – “Go play Gregory.” – he said giving him a little pat on the back.

“Drawing?” – Gregory called out. Benedict collected some paper and pencils, laying it onto the floor for him to use. You hoped he had forgotten about you, yet he hadn’t. Benedict held his hand on your lower back, moving his hand before your eyes. – “My lord!” – you yelped out as you felt him push you forwards. Hands waving around as you hated stumbling in the dark. He positioned you in front of the painting. Removing his hand. It took you a moment to adjust your sight. Eyes widening with a gasp at the painting.

In shock, you turned round to him as he stood very close behind you. Blinking bashful, you stared into his eyes from how up close he was. – “You are my muse Y/n.” – he said moving his hand up against your cheek. Shocked by the touch, you stumbled back against the painting. Panicking as it started to wobble, but you quickly steadied it. You were afraid to turn back around, knowing you would get lost in his gaze. Something you weren’t allowed to do. – “My lord I must go.” – you said firm, stepping away from the painting. You felt a grip on your shoulder, making you spin around to him. Putting your spinning to a stop with both his hands around your arms.

You wanted to look away, but those eyes were enough to make you fall in love. Fall in love with someone you weren’t supposed to. Feeling yourself drawn to him as he made you dream. Dream of this beyond your control. Aware of what you were doing, you shook your head. Backing away. – “No… I can’t do this.” – you said returning to Gregory. – “For you.” – Gregory said, holding up his drawing as you picked him up. – “Y/n.” – Benedict called out as you took a run for it.

He reached his hand out to you, moving it up resting it closed against his forehead with a deep sigh. You hurried back to the nursery with Gregory hoping no one had seen you come out of the lord’s bedroom. Panting loud, you reached the nursery, closing the door behind you. Gregory held his drawing in front of your face, waving it to get your attention. – “What is this Gregory?” – you asked with a smile.

“For you.” – Gregory said as you accepted it. – “My lords, Gregory this is beautiful.” – you told him with a gasp. – “And it is all for me?” – you walked around the nursery with him. – “Like Ben?” – he asked you. It caught you off guard for a moment. – “As beautiful as your brother’s paintings.” – you told him, giving him a kiss against his forehead.

Benedict slowly opened the door, peaking his head inside the nursery. Looking around for any sign of life. Specially yours. – “Are you in here?” – Benedict whispered ready to enter more if it wasn’t for his brother’s voice startling him. – “What are you doing?” – Anthony asked with crossed arms. Benedict jumped out of his skin, turning quickly around, closing the door in the process. – “Lo…looking for Gregory?” – Benedict replied with a sheepish laugh.

Anthony quirked his eyebrow up. – “Gregory is in the garden with Daphne and Eloise.” – Anthony answered him. – “And… and his maiden too?” – Benedict asked, knowing it might be a dangerous question. It sure made his brother look questionable at him. – “Why is it of any significance if his maiden is around?” – Anthony wanted to know, moving his hands to his hip. – “Nothing for.” – Benedict replied, clearing his throat afterwards. – “I’ll… I’ll just go paint.” – he spoke making his way past Anthony. Anthony watching his brother leave with a quizzable brow. Unable to grasp whatever his brother possessed.

Benedict decided to take the long route to his quarters, hoping to encounter you. He passed his sisters room as the door was open. He paused, staring inside. Eyes locking on yours while you were making up the bed with another girl. You noticed him as well, staring back at him. He curled up a smile at you. You granted him a soft smile back before returning your gaze to your duties.

Benedict knew he should move, but he couldn’t help but keep staring. Watching you make up the bed. Whenever he looked at you, he felt inspired. Wanting to combine his dreams with yours. The girl and you finished up, leaving the room. Benedict moved aside to let you leave. The girl curtsied before him before taking off. You did the same wanting to follow her when you felt a grip on your wrist.

Taking a step back, you looked down at his hand around your wrist. Eyes meeting up with his, you knew it was wrong. Pulling your hand away, you broke free. – “My lord, you mustn’t let yourself get carried away. It is wrong.” – you told him. What would his family think. What would his reputation be after this.

“Y/n… please…” – he said reaching for you once more. – “I… I have to get back to work.” – you finalised taking your leave. Pressing your lips together, you stopped yourself from crying. Knowing you were letting yourself get carried away by these feelings. So caught up in the colours. You dove back in your work, trying to push Benedict out of your head. Preparing Gregory’s bath up in the nursery.

Hearing the door creak open, you had little time to react as you got spun around. Seeing in the flash of a second that it was Benedict as he pressed his lips on yours. Holding you firm by your waist. Using your elbows, you pushed him off. Touching your lips in shock. – “My lord!” – you shouted. – “You mustn’t. Think of your reputation. People like me don’t belong with people like you.” – you remined him. It was just unseen.

“I do not care.” – he breathed out with a shake of his head. – “Every piece of you fits perfectly. Why can’t you hold me? Why can’t I kiss you? I wish it could be like that.” – he said beggingly. – “I don’t want to hide it away. I wish we can be just us. Why can’t I say that I am in love? Every time I see you and cannot be with you, I die a little.” – he finished confessing. - “We know this, my lord.” – you responded with a saddened expression. –“It cannot be like this.” – turning your head away, you didn’t want to give in to it. Benedict turned your gaze back to him. – “I decide what I want and it is you, Y/n.” – he whispered out before kissing you once more.

Violet was humming a song whilst passing the rooms. Benedict’s room open as het gaze fell on something colourful. Her curiosity took the better of her, making her enter the room. Eager to see what her artistic son has been painting. Violet gasped at the glorious painting. It took her a moment to recognize the face. Looking down, her gaze fell on another drawing. Bending down, she took it, seeing it was another drawing of you. Then she found two, three more. A smile curling up on her face.

“Violet darling?” – Edmund called out from the hallway. Searching for his wife. Edmund noticed his wife in his sons room, entering as well. – “What are you doing in here?” – he asked smiling. Edmund came to her side, looking over her shoulder to Benedict’s drawings. His eyes widened, snatching the drawing out of his wife’s hand. – “What is this?” – he called out. 

“It’s Y/n, Gregory’s maiden.” – Violet answered with a smile. – “This is…” – Edmund began. – “wonderful.” – Violet filled in for him. – “Horrendous!” – Edmund corrected her, crumbling the drawing in his hand. – “Benedict!” – he shouted loud, stomping out of his room. – “Edmund!” – Violet came running after her husband with worry. – “Benedict!” – he repeated loud.

The door to the nursery opened as the door slammed into the wall. Startled, moved Benedict away from you. Edmund furious as he grabbed you by the wrist, pulling hard on you. You screamed, falling to your knees by him. – “Let her go!” – Benedict called out. Edmund presented Benedict with the crumbled drawing in his hand. – “Are you in love with a maid?” – he wanted to know. – “What is the matter?” – Anthony came joining the scene, having heard the commotion.

“Edmund let her go!” – Violet insisted upon. Edmund inhaled sharp through his nose, letting go of you. Violet ushered you over as you ran over to her. Falling onto your knees as you collapsed into her embrace. – “No son of mine is loving a maid!” – Edmund made clear. – “Benedict!” – Anthony called out, agreeing with his father onto this.

“Edmund that is enough! Our son can love who he wants.” – Violet responded to make her statement clear. – “I’ll have her dismissed!” – he threatened. – “It doesn’t matter what you’ll do, father.” – Benedict responded with a glare. – “I’ll run away with her and marry her. I’ll make sure you won’t find us and you’ll never see us again!”

“Edmund!” – Violet shouted to make things clear to her husband. – “Look at the drawing.” – she ordered him as Edmund refused. – “Look at the drawing!” – she repeated while comforting you. Edmund flattened the drawing, looking at it with an annoyed expression. – “Tell me that is not pure love you see. Don’t we aspire for our children to love for love. No matter where she comes from or her status. Our son loves her, isn’t that the greatest gift anyone can give their parents?” – Violet said, defending you at every might.

“Father.” – Anthony said not wanting his father to change his mind. Edmund sighed loud, dropping the drawing. – “Love her with every might.” – he told him before taking his leave. A sign of him accepting the relationship. – “Father?” – Anthony called after his father, leaving the room. Benedict looked over to his mother, thanking her. She let go of you, giving you a little nudge into his direction. Smiling hard, you ran up to Benedict, throwing your arms around him. He spun you around, overjoyed that he could finally love you like he wanted to.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[delehosies]

𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 — benedict bridgerton x female reader . in which benedict discovers a lady asleep on his bed after retiring from the annual bridgerton ball for the night.

3200 words | a fluffy mess ! | masterlist | suggest fics ideas

The last thing that Benedict had expected to see when stumbling into his bedchambers after retiring from the ball for the night, still slightly tipsy, was a lady fast asleep on his bed. But Alas — there you were. Fast asleep, chest slowly rising and then falling again, your lips parted and the material of your ballgown draped in a rather messy manner around you.

He rubbed at his eyes harshly, as if doing so would prove that you were indeed a figment of his imagination, that he was coming down with a fever and therefore hallucinating, that a shadow had taken form on his bed and he had simply mistaken it for a girl. But no. You were actually there. On his bed.

Benedict felt his mouth fall open and shut again – bewildered but slowly coming to his senses. He finally closed the door behind him, so as to ensure nobody would see you, that your reputation wouldn’t be ruined over something which wasn’t anything. “Alright… alright.” he mumbled to himself, taking a few steps closer to the bed and kneeling onto the mattress besides you. Hoping that perhaps his weight shifting underneath would wake you up but… no. Instead you just mumbled something incoherent in your sleep, shifting onto your side as you did so. 

The annual Bridgerton ball had taken place that night, was still taking place downstairs in fact, and was still running into the early hours of the morning. But Benedict decided that he had had enough of the ton for one day, that he would get a somewhat early night. Instead one of his mother’s  guests was napping in his bedchambers. Which he had to admit was something completely new to him, in their many years of hosting balls he had never experienced this. 

“Um… Excuse me? Miss?” he half whispered, placing a light hand on the soft skin of your arm and attempting to gently shake you awake. “You really need to wake… You don’t wish to be caught alone together, hm? Especially not in my bedchamber…” 

Upon further inspection, Benedict noticed that your hair had been lazily removed from its updo, and instead fell around you, framing your face and complimenting your features perfectly. He brushed a piece away from you, tucking it behind your ear and frowning as he stared down at you. He was entirely unsure of what to do, and far too aware of how the situation would appear to anybody else - your reputation would be completely ruined if you were caught in this situation. Benedict wanted to ask his mother for help, but was frightened to leave you here alone. What if something happened to you? What if something had already happened to you? 

Benedict was unaware that just a few hours earlier, you had began to grow incredibly bored of the ball – by the mundanity of it all, the endless stream of men that your mother insisted on parading in front of you, the dances, the meaningless and far too polite conversation. You had instead decided to plant yourself in a corner nearest to the drinks table… where you had been drinking the night away ever since. 

You were unsure of how much you had actually drank, but when the entire room began to spin in a rather unpleasant way you had decided that it was probably time to stop. You had managed to stagger out of the ballroom and into a hallway – though you can hardly remember the journey upstairs and through the hallways into Benedict’s bedchamber, nor can you remember falling asleep, but you know that you certainly didn’t intend to fall into such a deep slumber. 

“Miss?” your eyes fluttered open to the sound of a concerned voice – a man. You sat yourself up quickly, too quickly. You immediately regretted it as the room began to sway again, the unfamiliar surroundings rocking back and fourth. You soon discovered the source of the voice, sat besides you on the bed with his eyebrows pulled together in concern. A Bridgerton. You weren’t entirely sure which one, but you knew that he was a Bridgerton.

“Oh dear God.” the words fell from you before you could stop them, bringing your hands upwards in an attempt to cover your face. Although you were still very drunk, you had enough sense to be embarrassed, mortified in fact, by the entire situation. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Mr Bridgerton.” you mumbled — refusing to meet his eyes, which were burning through you with an undeniably intense curiosity. 

Benedict blinked in surprise, he had never got quite used to the entirety of the ton being aware of who he was — most of the time they cannot tell him apart from his brothers, but they are still aware that he is a Bridgerton, meanwhile he is half asleep when introduced to people by his mother, it can be quite rare that he actually remembers a name.

“Are you quite alright?”

“I’m a little bit...”

“Drunk? I know that. I can smell the alcohol on you. But are you alright? I mean you were hiding in my bedchambers, asleep on my bed. Did something happen? Other than the copious amounts of alcohol.” Underneath his concern, his curiosity, his twenty questions – was amusement. You could tell that he was repressing a smile, perhaps even in a small laugh. 

You felt your cheeks begin to warm, feeling completely and utterly  embarrassed – he could smell the alcohol on you after all. You stood from the bed as soon as you could get up, an action which ended up being a complete mistake, you began to stagger sideways almost instantly. Benedict having to stand from where he was sitting in order to prevent you from falling. He placed two firm yet gentle hands on your arms, holding you in one place. 

“It’s alright… I’m not angry, if anything I’m quite amused…” you were forced to make eye contact with him at that point, and discovered that he was practically gazing at you, smiling as if he was biting back a laugh – he became serious again rather quickly. “But are you alright? Has anybody hurt you? Or was the annual Bridgerton ball just that boring?” 

You shook your head quickly. “I’m quite alright… I didn’t mean to fall asleep, do you see? I just needed a rest.” Your excuse didn’t give you any comfort, here you were, apologising to someone who was practically a stranger for falling asleep on his bed because you… needed a rest. 

“So you’re fine. Just sleepy, I suppose.” 

“Just sleepy.” You confirmed.

“And drunk… Too much of my mother’s famous punch.”

A quiet giggle fell from your lips – he was actually quite amusing. Why couldn’t your mother have paraded him in front of you instead of the magnitudes of bores who she insisted on you at least considering? 

“Do you care to tell me your name?” Benedict questioned, his head tilting to one side as his eyes scanned across your features, not making an attempt to hide his curiosity. 

“Y/N.” You replied, raising your head in the most confident and self assured manner that you could muster. 

“Well… It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Y/N.” He removed his hands from each of your arms, instead taking your hand in his and pressing a soft kiss to the bare skin, before gently releasing you. “I’m Benedict — You don’t have to bother with the Mr Bridgerton stuff, I’m just Benedict afterall.” 

“I must be getting back… Benedict.” You smiled, hesitating at first but ultimately enjoying the way that his name sounded on your tongue. Benedict — you decided that you could get used to it. “I am sure that my mother will be worrying.” 

Benedict raised an eyebrow, sitting back on the edge of his mattress. “You can hardly stand, Miss Y/N. I’m not sure that you’re in any fit state to return to the ball just yet.” He stretched his legs out, removing his waistcoat and discarding it somewhere across the room.

“I appreciate the concern but I am perfectly fine.” you crossed your arms across your chest, feining irritation as you stared down at where he now practically laid across the bed. Unbeknown to you, your words were still slurred – very slurred. 

He was now laying back, gazing up at the ceiling. “You’ll be the talk of the town! I can picture it now… Do you think that you’ll be the main feature on Lady Whistledown? Or instead one of the more minor segments?” You stayed silent, arms staying tightly crossed. “Miss Y/N…” He held out an arm dramatically above him “drunken disaster…” 

“That is very rude! Were you not taught never to speak to a lady in such a manner?” you exclaimed, picking up what was nearest to you and throwing it across the room, where it landed on his chest – luckily, it was quite a small book, and did no damage when it came into contact with him. 

Benedict seemed utterly unfazed, laughing quietly to himself and opening the book to a random page – where he seemingly pretended to be utterly engrossed in the chapter. “Apparently not… I have four sisters so I am quite used to bickering with these so called ladies that you speak of.” He paused for a moment. “I will find something to sober you.” he stood, suddenly serious, his gaze turning to where you stood. “But only if you promise to stay here for the time being. If someone sees you leaving my bedchambers it would look most suspicious.” 

You nodded quickly, knowing that as much as you wanted to disagree,  he was most definitely right. “Just sit.” Benedict pointed to the bed, and you did so without hesitating, being very obedient. “And stay there. I won’t be gone for very long.” 

Benedict managed to leave his bedchamber without being spotted – using the servants staircase in order to avoid seeing anybody, and making his way down to the kitchen in order to fetch tea and biscuits for you. Meanwhile, you sat on the edge of Benedict’s bed, inspecting the surroundings the best you could without moving. You noticed an easel in the corner of the room and raised an eyebrow – you wouldn’t have guessed that he was a painter, but then again, you hardly knew him.

The minutes dragged on for what felt like eternity, waiting for Benedict to return to his room, and when he finally did you weren’t expecting him to return carrying a huge tray in a rather clumsily manner. He placed it down on the table besides his bed, shutting the door behind him as quick as he could. “Sorry that took me so long I…” He hesitated for a moment, seeming to carefully think his words over. “If I’m being completely honest I couldn’t work the stove to heat the water… but I got there eventually. Tea and biscuits, for you.” Benedict smiled sheepishly, before beginning to pour you a cup of tea. He handed it to you, and you gratefully took it. “You actually stayed sat there, how obedient!” 

You rolled your eyes, attempting to pay no mind to the way that particular comment made you feel – deciding to ignore it completely. “Thank you, Benedict.” Silence fell between the two of you, Benedict pouring a cup for himself before sitting besides you. “You’re an artist?”

He glanced over at the easel in the corner of the room before looking back to you, nodding as he did so. “Something like that… I like to draw, but whether I am an artist or not is most likely up for debate.” 

“Are you any good? Would you be able to capture my likeness? Can I see one of your sketchbooks?” You inquired, questions falling from you with zero difficulty. You thought that perhaps you might be speaking too much, but Benedict entertained every question that you asked him. 

He paused for a moment, eyes scanning you up and down – you couldn’t help but shiver underneath his gaze. “Hm… I’m certainly not a bad painter, though sometimes I doubt myself – I suppose we all doubt ourselves at times.” He was quiet once again, choosing his words carefully. “I’m unsure whether I’d be able to capture your beauty, but I’m always up for a challenge.” Benedict began to search through his bedside drawers, holding multiple sketchbooks in his hand. “I’m not sure if all of my sketches would be exactly… appropriate for a lady.” 

Once again, your cheeks warmed in embarrassment, and you turned your attention quickly to your tea to hide just how flustered his words made you – trying to ignore him as he began to flick through the pages of the filled books, tossing a few aside as he deemed them as being too inappropriate for your eyes. Of course you were curious, but you chose not to press on. 

You crossed your legs underneath you in the best way that you could manage whilst still wearing your ballgown, leaning forwards with interest as Benedict opened a sketchbook on the bed in front of you – pointing to the charcoal sketches. “My sisters… Daphne, Eloise, Francesca and Hyacinth.” he pointed to each picture, smiling proudly as he did so – proud more so of his actual sisters than he was of the drawings (although he knew that he had captured them well.)

“They’re beautiful, truly. You’re quite gifted.” You turned the page, smiling as you took in each sketch. 

You certainly didn’t miss how Benedict’s cheeks flushed a reddish hue with each compliment, how his lips turned up at the corners into a shy smile. He was clearly passionate about his work, cared more than he wanted to about what others thought of his art, that he valued your opinion. “Thank you… it means a lot. Truly.” 

The two of you spent as long as possible, talking, laughing, looking through Benedict’s sketchbooks, discussing books you had read recently – until you had sobered up… at least a little bit. The tea and biscuits soaking up some of the alcohol in your system, though there was nothing wrong with being a little bit merry at an event. 

“I suppose you truly should be off now.” Benedict sighed, helping you to your feet. “Most people will be leaving soon…  and you don’t want your mother to end up sending out a search party to find you.” You were certainly a lot more steady on your feet this time around, taking a few hesitant steps with the help of Benedict and feeling fine. 

You nodded, sighing quietly to yourself – you had had a much more enjoyable night, with better conversations in the short amount of time spent with Benedict than you had had at any other ball. “Thank you, for being so kind… and I’m sorry again.” 

Benedict shushed you, pressing a gentle finger to your lips – apparently feeling rather more bold than he usually would. “There’s no need to apologise – as strange as it was, I’ve had a lovely time. A better time than I would had I spent more time actually socialising.” 

“Me too.” You admitted, smiling sheepishly at him. Benedict turned from you, creeping to the door of the room and slowly opening it in order to prevent it creaking — he peered out, eyes scanning the hall to ensure that nobody was around. “It’s clear.” He reached out his hand to guide you to the door and you gladly took it, enjoying the warmth of his skin on yours as you were lead from the door. Benedict walked you to the end of the hall, pointing as he gave you directions back to the ballroom. 

You couldn’t help but feel a sadness within you as you walked the halls, taking in every tiny piece of detail: the paintings; the wallpaper; the furniture; the flooring – certain that you wouldn’t be returning. “Well… Goodbye.” You whispered shyly, offering a small wave before turning and beginning to descend the grand stairs. 

“Wait…” Benedict mumbled, turning and taking your hand in his and spinning you around to face him. You felt your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, watching as he hesitated with his words before finally blurting out the question – “Can I see you again?” 

“Of course you can… Mr Bridgerton.” You smiled, and in a feeling of unnatural and rare moment of courage you leaned up to kiss his cheek – pressing your soft lips to his skin before pulling away and watching as his face began to flush to a pretty shade of rosy pink. Unbelievable. You had managed to make Benedict Bridgerton blush. 

Before he could speak, you practically ran from the scene, gathering up your skirt in your hands to ensure that you wouldn’t trip. You knew that it was probably quite a dangerous thing to do, considering the fact that you weren’t exactly sober.

Benedict watched as you ran from him until you were completely out of sight, his lips slightly parted in surprise as he struggled to process all of the events from that night — it  all felt very much like a fever induced dream.

On returning to his bedchambers, Benedict flipped to a new page in his sketchbook and began to draw – wanting to sketch you to the best of his abilities before his memories began to fade. Despite his previous desire for an early and long night of sleep, he ended up staying awake for most of the night working on the portrait, ensuring that it would be ready before you awoke that morning. 

And when you awoke one of the first things that you discovered was a grand bouquet of roses left on the table besides your bed, made up of all sorts of different shades and sizes… alongside a note. Your lady’s maid had brought the flowers into your room whilst you had slept, creeping along the wooden floor so as not to wake you. She was secretly excited for you, having sneakily seen the note which came with the bouquet – she had unfolded it before tucking it back into place.

Hours after the flowers had arrived, you finally awoke. Still in your nightgown, half asleep and still in your nightgown, half asleep and sporting a small alcohol induced headache - you had leaned over to inspect the flowers before reaching for and unfolding the note — discovering a drawing of yourself. 

 A small gasp escaped you as you took it in. Benedict. He had made you look beautiful, so beautiful – he had captured you perfectly, all of you, seeming to even capture the soul behind your eyes. You just seemed so alive. His signature was at the bottom of the portrait, alongside the words “Sketched with love and care for Miss Y/N. – Benedict Bridgerton.” 

You ran your finger gently across the words, careful not to smudge any of it – the words repeating in your head again and again. A contented sigh falling from your lips, you fell back onto your mattress, holding the drawing close to your chest as the night’s events really sunk into you. It was hard to believe – yet the words on the page were there as proof — sketched with love and care for Miss Y/N. Benedict Bridgerton.

[d-targaryenshoe]

Blissful Banter- Luke Thompson

Word count: 1432

Summary: Yet a lie detector brings fun to one's connection even the truth likes to be discovered.

Luke glanced at the lie detector machine with skepticism and amusement.

You sat across from him with a playful smile on your face.

You had been together for a little over a year, and despite your age gap—Luke being thirty-six and you twenty-five, you had developed a deep and affectionate relationship.

However, you both had a teasing nature, often poking fun at each other in a way that only made your bond stronger.

Today, you decided to put your playful banter to the test, literally, by trying out a lie detector test.

"Are you sure about this?" Luke asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched the technician prepare the equipment.

"Absolutely," you replied, your voice light with excitement. "I’ve always wanted to see if you could lie to me with a straight face."

Luke chuckled, shaking his head. "I don’t lie, love. I’m an open book."

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "Sure, and I’m the Queen of England."

The technician, a stern-looking man in his fifties, adjusted the sensors on Luke’s wrist.

"Remember, the machine will measure changes in your physiological responses," he explained in a monotone. "So try to relax."

"Easy for you to say," Luke muttered under his breath. He caught your amused gaze and winked. "Bring it on."

With the machine ready, the technician nodded at you to start.

"Okay, let’s start with something simple," you said, crossing your legs and leaning back in your chair. "Who’s your favorite character in Bridgerton?"

Luke smirked. "Benedict, of course. How can I not."

The lie detector remained steady, confirming his truthfulness.

"Really?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "Your own character."

Luke laughed, shaking his head. "Anthony’s too uptight. And Colin is the opposite of Ben, cool, confident, and irresistible."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. "Alright, Mr. Confident. Let’s see if you’re as honest about other things."

You leaned forward, your tone turning teasingly. "Do you like my cooking?"

Luke hesitated for a fraction of a second, a split-second that didn’t escape your notice.

"Of course I do," he replied, his voice a tad too enthusiastic.

The machine beeped softly, indicating a small spike.

You gasped, your eyes wide with mock indignation. "You liar! I knew you didn’t like my quinoa salad!"

Luke chuckled, shrugging. "It’s not that I don’t like it, I just... prefer your lasagna."

"Mm-hmm," you said, squinting at him playfully. "I’ll remember that next time you ask for seconds."

The atmosphere between you was light and full of affection, with the lie detector test turning into a fun game rather than a serious interrogation.

You both knew that these little white lies—like Luke’s opinion on quinoa—were part of what made your relationship so enjoyable.

"Alright, my turn," Luke said, sitting up a bit straighter. "Do you secretly think I’m too old for you?"

Your expression softened as you considered your answer. "Truthfully? No, I don’t think you’re too old for me. I love that you’re a bit older. It makes me feel like I have someone who’s mature and knows what he wants."

The machine stayed silent, confirming your truthfulness.

Luke’s heart warmed at your words, and he smiled, reaching across the table to take your hand. "I’m glad to hear that."

You squeezed his hand in return, then leaned back with a mischievous grin. "But just to keep things interesting… Do you ever get jealous when I talk about how attractive Simone Ashley is?"

Luke’s grin turned into a mock scowl. "Jealous? Me? Never." But the lie detector’s soft beep betrayed him.

You burst out laughing. "I knew it! You’re jealous."

Luke raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, fine, maybe just a little. But can you blame me? She's an absolute gem."

"True," you agreed, still giggling. "But don’t worry, you’re the only one for me."

You shared a tender moment, the banter giving way to genuine affection.

Luke realized that despite the light-hearted nature of the test, it was reaffirming what you both knew deep down—that you were crazy about each other, quirks and all.

"Okay, back to business," Luke said, clearing his throat. "How much did you actually know about Bridgerton before we started dating?"

You blushed slightly, biting your lip. "Honestly? Not much. I might have watched a couple of episodes before, but I wasn’t really into it until I met you."

The machine remained silent, and Luke smiled. "So, you started watching it just because of me?"

"Maybe," you admitted, your cheeks still pink. "I mean, it was worth it to understand your character."

Luke laughed, feeling touched. "That’s sweet. I’ll give you that one."

"Your turn," you said, your eyes gleaming with mischief. "Did you really think I was into you on our first date, or did you think I was just being polite?"

Luke chuckled, remembering your first date. "I was pretty sure you were into me. I mean, who wouldn’t be?"

You raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for the lie detector’s verdict.

The machine, however, remained steady, backing up Luke’s confidence.

"Wow, someone’s cocky," you teased, though you were impressed.

"What can I say?" Luke replied, grinning. "I’ve got a sixth sense for these things."

You shook your head, as though you were smiling. "Alright, Mr. Sixth Sense. Here’s a tough one—have you ever lied to me about something important?"

Luke’s smile faltered slightly as he thought about the question.

He wanted to answer quickly and truthfully, but the seriousness of the question caught him off guard.

"No," he said finally, his tone sincere. "I haven’t lied to you about anything important."

The lie detector agreed with him, showing no signs of deception.

You smiled softly, your eyes filled with warmth. "Good. I believe you."

Luke exhaled, realizing just how much your trust meant to him. "I’d never lie to you about something that mattered. You’re too important to me."

For a moment, the playful atmosphere shifted to something deeper, a reminder of the solid foundation you had built together despite your age difference and different life experiences.

"Okay," you said, clearing your throat and lightening the mood again.

"Let’s end on a fun one. Have you ever pretended to be interested in one of my hobbies just because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings?"

Luke laughed, knowing exactly what you were referring to. "You mean like when I pretended to enjoy that pottery class?"

You gasped, your eyes wide with faux outrage. "You didn’t enjoy it?"

"The clay was all over the place, and I made a bowl that looked more like a pancake," Luke admitted, grinning. "But I did it because I wanted to spend time with you."

The lie detector stayed silent, indicating that he was telling the truth.

You giggled, shaking your head. "Okay, I’ll give you that. But I actually thought your pancake bowl was pretty cute."

"Thanks," Luke said, smiling. "But let’s stick to your cooking from now on."

You laughed, the sound warm and infectious. "Deal. But only if you promise to keep watching Bridgerton with me, even when there’s no more Simon Basset."

Luke leaned across the table, capturing your lips in a quick, affectionate kiss. "Deal."

As you wrapped up the lie detector session, Luke realized that the test, while initially just a bit of fun, had brought you closer.

The playful teasing, the honest confessions, and the laughter reminded you both of why you worked so well together.

Despite the differences in your ages, your relationship was built on trust, understanding, and a shared sense of humor.

"Well, that was fun," you said as you stood up, stretching after being seated for so long. "We should do this again sometime."

"Only if you’re ready to admit that I’m your favorite Bridgerton," Luke replied with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, as though you were smiling. "We’ll see about that. Maybe I’ll start lying just to keep you on your toes."

Luke laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist as you walked out of the room. "As long as you keep laughing with me, I think we’ll be just fine."

As you left the building, the sun setting in the distance, you both knew that the little adventure with the lie detector had only strengthened your bond.

After all, love wasn’t just about being truthful, it was about finding joy in each other’s quirks, teasing, and growing together—even when a lie detector was involved.

With that thought in mind, Luke and you walked hand in hand, ready to face whatever challenges—and jokes—your relationship might bring next.

[bellarkeselection]

The Venus Muse

Princess Y/n has no desire to be just some man's wife. She wishes to explore the world and all the way up to the stars. And she may get her once in a lifetime chance when her mother, Queen Charlotte invites the Bridgerton family to the castle. The artistic Bridgerton son might possibly sweep the princess off her feet.

1 - Welcoming the Bridgerton’s

2 -Interesting Conversations

3 - Escaping with a Bridgerton

4 -

???

Comments really appreciated ❤️

Tag list - just ask to be added @abq654 @your-musicguru @imgondeletedis @eruannaaa-blog @cherrylovers-world @benedictbridgertonss @callmedarlingsstuff @carrotcaratsworld @sillynilly27 @emmampl-blog2 @bright-molina @erynel1zasworld @ynbutbetter @stranger-chan @blckbarbiedoll @sanaar3006 @urmoom12345 @ritz-hell-hotel @ritz-hell-hotel

[twoidiotwriters1]

Benedict Bridgerton xFem!Princess Reader

Dearest Gentle reader, as another season starts so do the surprises. It has been said that we are to welcome the Queen and King of Genovia for the first half of this season, and not only that but to witness the very first public appearance of their eldest, Princess Y/N Devereaux. I'm sure the Queen will want us to be the most gracious hosts, even if this family of royals have a reputation for enjoying scandal. Isn't it exciting when life becomes a fairytale of sorts?

(Bridgerton x Princess Diaries crossover)

Chapter 1. Fun Times & Potty Rooms

Chapter 2. The Botanist

Chapter 3. Faux Pas

Chapter 4. The Artist

Chapter 5. Drawing Lessons

Chapter 6. Thoughts & Ink

Chapter 7. A Moment of Enlightenment

Chapter 8. An Offer From a Gentleman (Dec 28th)

This WILL be an 18+ story (Minors DNI!) so yes it's mostly smut with a lot of plot

Join the taglist in advance HERE.

-Danny

[laremsworld]

Simon: *daddy issues preventing him from understanding that he loves Daphne*

Anthony: *too afraid to show that he fancies Kate*

Colin: *too oblivious to realize that he loves Pen*

Meanwhile Benedict the second he sees Sophie:

[trashywritestrash]

Short and Sweet

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Word Count: 853

Warnings: Best friend’s brother— is that a warning? This is just a short lil thing for Valentine’s Day

A/N: The poem and response in this came from Thomas Richardson’s “Gentleman’s Valentine Writer” which wasn’t actually published until 1828 but I needed ideas, okay? Also, I wrote this when Bridgerton was still the lead in the poll lol

Living beside the Bridgerton household had many advantages. Being close in age to Daphne gave you the perfect excuse to spend time with her. However, spending time with Daphne meant also spending time with the rest of her family, which allowed you to form a close bond with them all. One Bridgerton in particular being Benedict.

Benedict was a few years older than you, but within a perfectly reasonable range that made it acceptable for you to fancy him. How could you not? He was sweet and sensitive, but he had a playful side that brought joy any time you were fortunate enough to witness it. Although, you never dared to dream that Benedict might return your affections. You were the best friend of his younger sister, surely he would not think of you in that way.

Initially, you had been excited to be presented before the queen and sent out into society. But while Daphne had been deemed the season's incomparable, you had fallen into her shadow. You were happy to see your friend receive many visitors and gifts, but some days it would hurt to see a line of men outside her door while you waited in an empty sitting room.

Waking on Valentine's Day brought nothing but sorrow. It was only one month into the social season and you already felt that you were destined to become an old spinster. With no prospective husbands in sight, you would likely have to face a second season. You did not expect that you would receive any callers that day, yet you waited in your sitting room in a fine dress, as you did every other day. Your mother sat in a chair at the far end of the room, leisurely reading until something would happen.

Early into the day, your butler entered the room with a calling card in hand, "A Mister Bridgerton is here to call upon Miss Y/L/N."

"Send him in," You replied, feeling your chest constrict. It was possible that one of Daphne's brothers had come to pass along a message for her, but a gentleman visiting while you were accepting callers still brought you a shred of hope.

Moments later, you saw Benedict step through the doorway, holding something behind his back. He smiled, "I see I have gotten here before the rest."

You returned his smile, nervous, yet calmed by his presence. "I think you will find that the gentlemen are coming to your door today, not mine."

"Then they are fools and I am lucky to have you all to myself."

"What can I do for you, Benedict? I find it hard to believe you would be here as a suitor." You spoke the words in jest, but felt your throat tighten as you said them all the same.

Benedict's smile fell into confusion, "What is so hard to believe about that?"

Taken aback by the genuine confusion in his tone, you clarified, "I only mean to say that I would not have expected it."

"If that is the case, I hope that you find this to be a good surprise," For just a moment, you heard a bit of nerves in his voice as he tried to present a confident image. "Unfortunately, I cannot stay long. But I wanted to bring you these and to officially declare my affection."

Finally, Benedict moved the hand behind his back to reveal a beautiful bouquet of morning glory and myrtle. You smiled wide at the sight, "Thank you, Benedict. They're lovely."

Shortly after, Benedict had to take his leave, although he promised to come back the following day. Once he had left, you reached for a book on the language of flowers. You found that morning glories are used to represent affection, meanwhile myrtle is used to represent love and marriage. Learning that brought a blush to your cheeks, finding the meaning to be a little bold, but not unpleasant.

It was then that you noticed a small folded piece of parchment beside the flowers. When you unfolded the paper, you could see the painted design done in watercolors. A man and a woman stood beneath a tree, which was situated between a lovely cottage and a church. The image was small, but you could tell that the couple was you and Benedict. On the other side of the parchment was a simple note.

I boast not eloquence, dear Miss, Nor do I write exceedingly fine; Therefore, I bluntly ask you this-- Pray, will you be my Valentine?

As you looked down at the note, you felt your heart swell. You held it close to your chest, feeling as if you could burst from happiness at any moment. Your mother then looked up from her book. "What is that, dear?"

"It is nothing!" You responded quickly. Luckily, your mother did not push the issue further.

That night, you folded the note once more and placed it in the drawer of the nightstand beside your bed. As you attempted to fall asleep, all you could think of was that you could not wait to see Benedict again.

----------

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[satellite-evans]

Benedict Bridgerton x wife reader. Having a date day together for once, leaving their children with Bridgerton's sibling. Escaping from their clutch and just enjoying themselves. Can be fluff/suggestive. Thanks!! :))

Needed Escape

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Benedict and you needed a much deserved break :)

Word count: 2k

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

Thank you so much for the request nonnie! I do have to apologize bc it is not my greatest work lol

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains of your bedroom, casting a warm glow on the room's muted colors. Benedict stood by the window, looking out at the sprawling estate of his home. But his thoughts weren’t on the family estate, nor on the children, nor even on the upcoming events of the day. His focus was solely on you.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice gentle but filled with an underlying excitement that made your heart flutter. You could feel it too—a quiet anticipation, a rare chance to steal some time for just the two of you.

You glanced at him from where you sat, carefully lacing your boots, feeling his gaze on you. It had been so long since you had had a moment like this, away from the hustle of family life. The children, the Bridgerton clan, the endless duties—today, none of it mattered. Today was for the two of you.

“I think so,” you said with a playful grin, standing to face him. “But it’s hard to concentrate when you’re staring at me like that.”

Benedict chuckled softly, his smile always warm, always affectionate. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said simply, stepping closer to you, his fingers brushing against the hem of your dress. There was no need for grand gestures or fancy words. His sincerity was always enough.

You met his gaze, your heart skipping a beat. After all this time—after children, after life had thrown its challenges at you both—he still looked at you as if you were the only woman in the room. And you, of course, couldn’t imagine ever looking at anyone else.

He reached out, taking your hand in his. “Are you sure about this? A day away from everything?” he asked, his voice low and thoughtful. He knew how important your family was to you—how hard it could be to walk away from the children for even a few hours.

You squeezed his hand. “I’m sure. We both need it. Time for just us. No distractions.”

There was a brief pause before Benedict spoke again, his voice teasing. “I imagine that this is a day that’s been long overdue.”

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Perhaps. It seems like all we ever do is chase after the little ones these days. I can’t even remember the last time we had a moment like this.”

“Well,” he said, his smile turning sly, “let’s make the most of it.”

The two of you had arranged for Eloise, of all people, to look after the children for the day. You had no doubt that she would manage just fine, despite her tendency to have an… unconventional approach to childcare. You’d left instructions, but in the end, it was her boundless energy and enthusiasm that had given you the most peace of mind. She adored the children and could handle their chaos like no one else.

“You’re sure you’ll be all right?” you asked, turning to Eloise as you stood in the doorway, the children already clamoring around her, tugging at her skirts.

“Of course!” Eloise said with a grin, her hands on her hips, eyes glinting with mischief. “We’ll have a splendid time. Don’t you worry. They’re wild, but they’re no match for me.” She raised a brow at you, as though daring you to question her ability.

Benedict laughed softly behind you, a knowing glint in his eye. “Just remember, no pirate ship building in the house this time. You’re in charge, not the other way around.”

“Ah, but the children will be much more enthusiastic about their adventures if they’re not confined to the parlor,” Eloise said with a dramatic sigh. “I promise we’ll be fine. Have a wonderful time. We’ll take care of everything here.”

You turned to Benedict, sharing a brief look, both of you fully aware that the chaos awaiting them was more than a little bit amusing. “Thank you, Eloise,” you said, trying to sound serious as you handed over the reigns. “No firecrackers, please.”

She raised her hand in mock solemnity. “Not a single one, I swear. Go enjoy yourselves.”

The drive away was an odd mix of relief and exhilaration. Benedict’s hand found yours as the carriage rolled through the city, the rhythm of the wheels setting a gentle pace for the conversation. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, savoring the quiet, until Benedict spoke again.

“You realize, this is the first time in months that I’ve been able to truly breathe without worrying about someone else.”

You nodded, appreciating the weight of his words. It wasn’t that you didn’t love your children—you did, with all of your heart. But the constant demands, the never-ending needs, had a way of draining you, of pulling you in a thousand directions at once. Being able to step away for a day, to simply exist as partners again, felt like a luxury you hadn’t realized you missed so much.

“Have you thought about what we’ll do?” you asked, turning your attention to Benedict, watching the way his eyes seemed to glimmer with excitement.

He smiled at you, a little devilish, a little wicked. “I have a few ideas,” he said, his voice dropping a little lower, full of intent.

You soon arrived at a secluded tea house, tucked away by a tranquil lake, far from the eyes of the Bridgerton family and the responsibilities that came with your roles. The atmosphere was serene, the kind of peace that allowed you both to simply exist without the outside world intruding.

Inside, the delicate clink of china on porcelain was the only sound that filled the air. The tea house was small but cozy, with soft light pouring in through the windows. A quiet retreat from the busy world, perfect for an afternoon away from everything. You were shown to a secluded table by the window, where the view of the still lake mirrored the calm you both felt in that moment.

As you sat down, Benedict reached across the table, his fingers brushing yours in the most intimate of touches. The simple contact sent a shiver through you, and you couldn’t help but smile at him, the warmth of his touch sending a rush of affection through your chest.

“This feels…” You started, trailing off as you gazed out the window, lost in the view. It was hard to put it into words—how perfect everything felt in this moment. The stillness, the privacy, the presence of Benedict beside you.

“It feels like it’s just us again,” Benedict finished for you, his voice full of quiet understanding. “No distractions. Just you and me.”

You nodded, smiling softly at him. “I’ve missed this. Just being with you.”

His gaze softened as he leaned in slightly, his voice growing quieter. “I think I’ve missed you more than you know. More than anything, really.”

Before you could respond, his hand moved across the table to gently caress your cheek. The soft touch of his fingertips against your skin sent a wave of desire through you, your heart beating faster. There was something about the simplicity of his gesture, how it communicated everything he couldn’t put into words. It wasn’t just a touch—it was a declaration, a reminder of how deeply he loved you.

Without a word, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you. His lips met yours in a kiss that started slow, tender, and deepened gradually, an unspoken conversation that only the two of you could understand. It was as if every moment of your love, every shared experience, every quiet glance was poured into that kiss, and when you finally broke away, your breath came in shallow gasps.

“I think we should do this more often,” Benedict said, his voice husky as he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. “Take time for just us. Make these moments last longer.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” you said softly, your lips still tingling from his kiss. “But I do love the chaos of our life. It’s part of who we are, isn’t it?”

He smiled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving you. “Yes,” he said, his voice low, “but I think we deserve these moments too. Moments where it’s just us, rediscovering each other, without the noise.”

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blissful blur. You and Benedict walked along the edge of the lake, talking about everything and nothing, enjoying the simplicity of being in each other’s company. You both didn’t realize how much you had missed this—how much you had missed each other—until it was just the two of you, without any distractions, without anyone else.

By the time you returned back home, the evening was already beginning to settle in. The children were being carried off to bed, though not without a fair amount of resistance.

“Well, they survived,” Benedict said with a chuckle as you both entered the drawing room. His eyes twinkled as they found Eloise, who was giving them an exaggerated, exhausted look.

Eloise dramatically flopped back onto the couch, throwing her arms out as if she were defeated. “I swear, I’ll never have children,” she announced, shaking her head. “That was—utter chaos! I don’t know how you two do it, but after today, I’ve made up my mind. I’m done with kids.”

You exchanged a glance with Benedict, both of you suppressing a smile at the sight of Eloise. She had clearly survived the day but looked like she’d just fought a battle.

“After one day?” Benedict teased, leaning against the doorframe. “You’ve had one day with them, Eloise. You’re telling us that’s enough to give up on children forever?”

Eloise shot him a mock glare, crossing her arms in front of her. “Absolutely. I am not cut out for this. Between Henry and his wild ideas, Clara’s endless energy, and the other three running around like banshees, I’m convinced that children are some form of divine punishment.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her dramatics. “It’s not that bad,” you said, though you knew it had been a chaotic day. “We’ve just… gotten used to it.”

Benedict raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a grin. “Yes, it’s all a part of the charm,” he said with a wink. “Of course, it does take some time to adjust to the constant noise and mess, but you’ll get used to it. Imagine what it’s like for us, living with the constant reminder that ‘everything’s fine’ while six little people demand every ounce of your attention.”

You laughed again, this time stepping toward Eloise and taking a seat beside her. “Honestly, though, it is a lot of work. But it’s also one of the most rewarding things we’ve done together. There’s chaos, sure, but then there are moments—small moments—when everything else fades and it’s just… perfect.”

Eloise’s face softened at your words, though she still rolled her eyes. “Maybe you think it’s perfect,” she teased. “But I could barely get them all to sit down for dinner without someone throwing a tantrum. Clara ended up with sauce all over her face, and I swear Henry tried to convince them all that the house was haunted. Haunted, Benedict! I almost lost my mind.”

“Well, I guess we can’t take Henry out of his role as the family mischief-maker,” you said with a smirk. “But hey, it keeps things interesting.”

Benedict chuckled, crossing his arms. “That’s true. And the energy is contagious. I can’t imagine life without it.”

Eloise sighed dramatically, throwing herself back against the cushions. “You two must be saints. I’ll take the quiet life, thank you very much. No children. No mess. No running around with pirate hats on. I’ll stick to my books and my solitude.”

Benedict leaned in, his gaze playful as he nudged Eloise with his shoulder. “Just wait until you have your own kids,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll change your mind.”

“Not a chance,” she replied with a mock glare, though her lips curled up into a grin. “I’ll stick to being the fun aunt who spoils them and then hands them back to you when they start crying. I’m not cut out for this.”

You grinned at Eloise, knowing exactly what she meant. “That’s the best part about being an aunt. You get all the fun, none of the responsibility.”

“Exactly,” she said, giving you a knowing wink. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a long bath and pretend this day never happened.”

[bladeinthedark]

benedict bridgerton who loves to watch you read in silence. benedict who could spend hours studying your face and carefully putting it to paper. benedict who will always use you as his muse and still no portrait or sketch of you could ever capture your true beauty.

benedict bridgerton who is so madly in love with you that all the strokes he makes on paper are somehow fuelled by your laughter and your presence.

[frost-queen]

A dance of fencing (Reader x Benedict Bridgerton)

Requested by anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @erikasurfer @slythetic , @p0nycurtis

Summary: Benedict takes up fencing, not knowing who his opponent is as he remains quiet. Each time he is defeated by his partner. During the balls a girl keeps following him and trying to make something clear. With his mind still on winning a match, he makes a deal to buy his partner a drink if he wins. If only he knew his opponent was the girl who kept trying to hint it at him during balls.

Benedict hurried towards the door as it caught Violet’s attention. Making her stop mid-way, gawking at her son. – “Uhm Benedict… where are you going?” – She wanted to know. Benedict stopped, moving a bit back. – “Out.” – he replied as if it was the most casual thing. – “Now, it is almost calling hour.” – Violet responded.

“I… I have other obligations.” – Benedict answered already checking the clock in the hallway. – “But your sister…” – Violet reminded him again. – “Will be fine without me, she has plenty of hawks circling around her.” – he called out heading for the door.

Before Violet could scold him, he had left. Calling over one of the carriages. Violet sighed loud, entering the drawing room to wait for any suitors to announce themselves to Francesca. Benedict hopped into the carriage as it rode off.

The carriage stopped in front of a mansion. White stone walls with pillars on each side. A man was standing outside having a smoke. Not even trying to hide it. His eyes focused on Benedict when he got out. – “I’ll be damned Bridgerton is that you?”  - the man called out, dropping his cigarette on the ground.

Sniffing it out with his heel before coming over. Benedict looked surprised at the acquaintance when he neared. – “John Fidleton is that you?” – he asked. John shook his hand firm with a pat on against his shoulder. – “Here for fencing too?” – John wanted to know, leading him closer to the mansion.

Benedict chuckled out a laugh with a shrug. John laughed patting him hard on the back.  – “A man of many talents.” – John joked leading him inside the mansion. – “To be honest I just needed an escape from the house.” – Benedict teased with a smirk. John laughed loud patting him even harder on his back.

Benedict nearly stumbled forwards, coughing as the air felt being punched out of his lungs. – “You were always the funny one.” – John teased with a poke in his cheek. Benedict chuckled softly, rubbing his cheek. John leaded him to the training room. A grant ballroom now occupied with other obligations then dance. Many men were already suited up and warming up.

John slapped Benedict hard on his back. – “Get yourself ready.” – he shoved Benedict towards a door. Benedict left the room to change. With the helmet under his arm, he returned. He observed and watched some already parring. The sound of their fencing foil clattering against each other.

The instructor entered as everyone lined up. The instructor paused to give Benedict a quick bored glance. – “You new?” – he asked making Benedict nod, adding a bow afterwards. The instructor motioned with his head for him to join the line. Benedict hurried over, coming to stand beside John.

The instructor clapped his hands together after his speech, making everyone form a pair. Benedict turned to look at John to partner up, but John had already left to meet another chap. Laughing loud. It made Benedict look uncomfortable around as he didn’t knew anyone else. The instructor clapped loud, calling for his attention.

He then pointed at a person fully suited up. Benedict bowed to his instructor, making his way over. He approached you, holding his hand out to you. – “Benedict Bridgerton, at your service.” – he introduced himself. You stared down at his hand. As a reply you bowed, not shaking his hand. Benedict cleared his throat a bit ashamed, bowing afterwards.

“I look forward to fence with you.” – he started loosening up his shoulder. You tapped with your fencing foil on the helmet under his arm. – “Oh right.” – Benedict answered, moving the helmet up. – “You aren’t much of a talker are you?” – he questioned as you turned round to take your stand. Benedict put his helmet on, taking a stand as well.

If only he knew. You breathed loud into the helmet taking a moment to compose yourself. Waiting for Benedict to make the first move. Benedict launched forwards as you easily blocked his attack with a swift swing of your fencing foil. One hand behind your back as you needed to use little effort for it. With your fencing foil, you touched his chest with the tip of it.

Benedict looking with surprise down at his chest. You removed the fencing foil from him, taking a step back again. Benedict taking a stand once more. Again he set his foot forwards, launching at you. Turning just a quarter, you let your fencing foil block his. Letting it swing round to unbalance him.

Benedict tensed his jaw, regaining his balance and attacking once more. His efforts were little as your agility and speed blocked his strike before it could come even near you. The tip of your fencing foil again touching his chest.

Benedict groaned loud as you took another stand. You let your gaze go down to his feet, seeing his footwork wasn’t steady. Knowing he was about to strike, you deflected his strike. Making your fencing foil circle around his till it got flung out of his hands. Up in the air, Benedict watched with grand eyes.

You shoved him back with your fencing foil as he stumbled to the ground. With your free hand, you caught his fencing foil taking a deep bow at him. Benedict groaned loud at his defeat. Benedict got back up as you offered him his fencing foil.

He took it annoyed barely giving you a glance. He took another stand. With each defeat, the urge of overthrowing you grew. Giving up, he took of his helmet and went back to the changing rooms. Not even throwing you a glance over his shoulder.

Benedict rubbed his neck to ease his muscles making Anthony glance at him. Benedict cleared his throat, lowering his hand. – “Has he been handling you roughly again?” – Anthony questioned. Benedict sighed loud. – “Now I regret ever telling you.” – he mumbled out. Anthony came to face him, grabbing him by his vest.

“You better land that win on this gentleman for the sake of our family name.” – Anthony told him firmly. – “It’s just practice.” – Benedict replied with a roll of his eyes. Anthony dusted off Benedict’s shoulders. – “No excuse, I just know he is laughing in your face.” – Anthony finished looking suspiciously over his shoulder.

Benedict pushed his brother’s hands off him. – “Actually he hasn’t been taunting. Just quiet.” – Benedict reassured him that his opponent wasn’t mocking him at all. Rather always remaining calm and not giving him much interaction.

“Beside the point.” – Anthony muttered out, bringing up a polite smile when some ladies walked past them. Kate appeared leaning her arm on Anthony’s shoulder. – “Are you taunting your brothers again?” – she asked her husband with a mischievous scowl. – “Wha… no!” – Anthony answered making Kate smile.

Benedict bowed his head to her as she scrunched her nose with a smile in return to him. Kate kept shushing her husband, pulling him away from Benedict. Throwing him a wink over her shoulder as she led him away. Alone, Benedict took a deep exhale.

Getting in motion, he needed a drink. Brushing past ladies and lords to reach the beverages. He got handed a lemonade, turning around to watch the crowd. From the corner of his eye, he saw someone approach. Coming to stand at his side.

“Mr. Bridgerton.” – you said with a curtsy. Benedict nearly chocked on his drink, sputtering in his glass. Lemonade splashing up in his face. Lowering his glass, he wiped his face clean. Standing face to face with a girl. Hands folded in front of her, a dazzle in her eyes. – “I uhm… yes Eloise!” – he called out making an escape for it.

Out of sight, he exhaled loud, undoing his tie a bit around his neck. Puffing loud as he had avoided another eager girl. You blinked surprised at his departure. Taking your glass of lemonade, you went after him. You noticed him standing alone as it made you hum thoughtfully. Hinting he had been deliberately avoiding you.

Knowing you couldn’t face him head on, you decided to sneak up on him to join his side. Slowly you shuffled closer to him from the side. Trying to make it as casual as ever that you were sneaking up to him.

“Mr. Bridgerton.” – you repeated to get his attention. He turned his head with a loud and visible sigh. He already started to get in motion as you wouldn’t let him leave so easily. – “Mr. Bridgerton!” – you called out heading after him. – “Just go back to your mama!” – Benedict responded looking over his shoulder.

Too occupied with him, you nearly bumped into someone. You spun around, avoiding him ending in fencing stand. Looking up, you just had to see if he had seen it. Benedict’s eyes were still on you, but quickly looked away once he saw you had managed it. Brushing you off, you watched him leave. You hoped it would’ve been a perfect hint for him to connect that you were his fencing partner.

Sighing loud, you turned the other direction. No more attempts. Benedict returned to his siblings, needing to shake the feeling off. – “Those debutants keep getting eagerly each year.” – he complained to Eloise. She snorted loud. – “Poor you.” – she teased with pouted lips. It made Benedict give her a little shove. Colin laughing loud.

Benedict entered the mansion once more, heading for the gardens. A match outdoors due to the good weather. Bowing his head to John further up ahead. He then walked straight up to his fencing partner. You pointed with your fencing foil at his helmet to put it on.

Benedict held his finger up to you. – “How about a deal first?” – he asked teasingly. You gestured for him to continue. – “If I land a win, you’ll have to reveal yourself. Show me who you are and I’ll buy you a drink on top of that.” – Benedict proposed.

“What do you say, deal?” – he wanted to know, opening his hands all smug. You nodded accepting his offer. Benedict smiled putting his helmet on. Each taking a stand to begin. No matter what he did, he kept being hit by you. Losing in every way. Making him groan time and time again, but he was persistent.

Benedict kept practising with Anthony in the yard at home. Anthony yelling at him to keep an eye on his footwork. Whatever the cost, he wanted to win the deal. Days past with practices and balls. At practise he kept losing and at each ball, he kept being followed by a lady out of so many.

It started to irritate him as he disliked debutants and their eager mama’s. He started to portray his frustrations into his fencing. Anthony directing him to channel it more clearer. Frustration’s couldn’t cloud his judgement. Day in and out, he practised with Anthony and kept losing to his opponent at fencing classes. Hoping he would lance a win soon enough. Eager to know the gentleman that was outstanding in fencing.

Anthony had given Benedict a pep talk in the morning. Now entering the mansion once more, he wasn’t sure what the outcome would be, but was eager to keep trying. He came facing you once more with a bow. You curled up a smile from behind your helmet. Benedict waited for you to do anything first as it made you quirk your eyebrow up.

You made your way at him as he deflected it. Trying to tap your chest for a point. You spun around with ease, striking at him. Benedict let his fencing foil clash with yours. Coming nearly face to face. Panting loud in his helmet as he narrowed his eyes to try and see any features through the helmet. You shoved him back as he stumbled.

He regained his balance, blocking another strike of you. Glancing down, you noticed his footwork had improved. He was getting better, just how you liked it. You always like a challenge as most of the other’s wouldn’t want to fence with you anymore because they always lost. Benedict was persistent, wanting to win from you.

You noticed the slightest slip-up with him, striking him down. He looked down at the tip on his chest, sighing loud. – “Again!” – he called out coming in position again. Benedict and you kept fencing even when everyone else had given up and returned home.

The instructor asked if you wanted to leave as well. Benedict wouldn’t asking if they could stay a bit longer. Sure that he would land his win today. The instructor accepted, retiring to his study. Now you had the entire ballroom for your own. For fencing was a dance in her own style. – “Again.” – Benedict repeated getting up once more.

You nodded, taking a stand once more. Your fencing foils clashed opposite from each other. Benedict and you nose to nose. Both panting loud in the helmet. Benedict moved his hand up to push the fencing foils upwards. It made you stumble a bit backwards as Benedict struck.

You immediately blocked it out of breath. Moving back as he went forwards. He tried to aim for your chest as you deflected his touch. He kept coming at you as you were impressed by his dedication. Dancing back and forth with him. Benedict struck at you as you deflected it.

He quickly repositioned his hand, to hit your chest while you weren’t looking. A hard touch on your chest, made you widen your eyes. Looking down at your chest to see his tip clear on your chest. Benedict’s eyes widened as well. His scream of joy echoing into the ballroom as he sunk to his knees in victory.

You had to give it to him, clapping. Benedict removed his helmet, panting loud. – “I think we have a deal good sir.” – he said with a smirk. You nodded offering him your fencing foil as he took it. Taking a step back to watch with eagerness who the gentleman was that he had been fencing with for months now.

You exhaled deep as you brought your hands up to your helmet. Unsure how he would react. A deal was a deal so you weren’t going to chicken out of it. Slowly you removed your helmet as Benedict’s eyes widened seeing gentle lips. He dropped the fencing coils, clattering to the ground at the sight of a girl. Not just any girl, but the girl he had been brushing off at every ball.

“How about that drink?” -  you said with a teasing smile. Benedict was speechless. Utterly speechless that his opponent had been a girl this entire time. It made you a bit shy as he wasn’t responding. He was normally always so full with words and now he couldn’t even utter one.

“A lemonade is just fine.” – you replied to cut the silence, knowing he used to think you were a man. He couldn’t give you any alcohol so a lemonade would be just fine. – “Or should I return to my mama?” -  Benedict apologized before taking his leave. Letting your shoulders slouch, you felt like you had just lost your fencing partner. Unsure if you could ever come back.

You didn’t come to the next fencing practise. Just not feeling it. Yet dismissing a ball was out of the question for your parents. Now you stood by the windows looking bored. Bored with the people, you turned around to look outside. Pulling your nose up at the sudden presence at your side.

Turning your head, you were surprised to see that it was Benedict. – “As promised.” – he said offering you a glass of lemonade. You looked down at the glass, hesitant to accept it. – “I… I didn’t catch your name the other day.” – he asked as you took the glass from him. – “Well you never staid to hear it.” – you responded looking away to take a sip.

Benedict chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his head. He was still waiting for an answer with eagerness. – “Y/n Y/l/n.” – you answered making him curl up a smile. – “I didn’t see you at fencing practise, miss Y/n.” – he continued to conversate with you. – “Oh, I didn’t know you were looking for me.” – you replied.

Benedict plucked the drink from you, handing it to a man not far from him. – “How about a dance miss Y/n?” – he asked offering you his hand. You kept staring at his hand wanting him to sweat just that little extra. Benedict moved his head closer to you. Almost cheek to cheek to whisper in your ear.

“It’s like fencing.” – he whispered to you. It made you bashful at how close he was. Clearing your throat, you composed yourself. – “I suppose I can grant you one dance.” – you replied unbothered, laying your hand in his. Benedict smiled all giddy, guiding you towards the dancers. Letting go of your hand as you came standing in front of him.

“Does this require a deal as well?” – you teased him looking all smug. The music began as Benedict took you by your waist, pulling you up to his chest. – “Only your attention.” – he responded. – “I can do that.” – you answered with a smirk. Benedict touched your chin with his knuckles before leading you into the dance.

-------------------------------------------

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[bosbas]

Chapter 11: if my wishes came true, it would've been you

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 4.7k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, mutual pining

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

July 21, 1814 - In a rather interesting turn of events, Miss Y/N Beaumont was once more seen promenading on the arm of Anthony Bridgerton. It appeared that the two were quite happily chatting away, an increasingly common sight that comes after almost a month of barely any social appearances for our lady of the season. Was this just another friendly promenade, or could a romance be brewing between the two? Given the closeness of the two families, a union between them would be unsurprising. However, this author was most surprised that it was Anthony who decided to pursue Miss Beaumont rather than her long-time companion, Benedict.

"So you two are properly courting?" asked Hyacinth, shoving the latest Whisteldown column in both of your faces. You were sitting beside Anthony in the Bridgerton sitting room, your book set haphazardly on your lap after Hyacinth had barged in demanding answers.

"Something like that, yes," answered Anthony, grabbing the sheet of paper from her and skimming it over for where it mentioned you.

"What do you mean 'something like that'? You're either courting or you aren't, Anthony," came Hyacinth's exasperated response. You laughed softly at her impatience, understanding her frustration. You, at times, felt the same way. It was an unusual partnership, to be sure, but you were enjoying yourself thus far. You found you could attend social events again, not feeling any pressure to engage in conversation with slimy or uninteresting men.

"It means that I am attending balls again, Hyacinth. It also means that I can continue writing down detailed summaries of these balls and giving them to you the morning after," you said, hoping to distract her from asking any further questions about your courtship with Anthony.

And it seemed to have worked. Her face lit up, knowing you were the only person who currently attended balls that was kind enough, and attentive enough, to keep her informed about the goings on of the ton. She squealed and rushed to hug you, exclaiming "Thank you thank you thank you!!!" into your neck. You hugged her back, amused by her antics.

Suddenly, Hyacinth turned to Anthony, eyes narrowed. "You had better be a good suitor to Y/N. Will you be attending balls with her? And if so, will you be dancing with her? And will you be calling on her? Will you bring her flowers?" she interrogated. Hyacinth considered you to be one of the sweetest from the older bunch of Beaumont-Bridgertons. At least, you never made fun of her and you took her seriously enough that she could have grown-up conversations with you. So Hyacinth wanted to make sure that you were going to be properly courted by her brother. Truthfully, she had hoped you would end up with Benedict. She thought the two of you were in love, based on how he talked about you and how you looked at him, but she supposed she was too young to understand the more complicated aspects of romantic feelings, and perhaps she had misjudged whatever was going on between you and Ben. Nevertheless, she wanted at least one of her brothers to court you the way you deserved, especially after reading about the mostly unpleasant encounters you had with potential suitors thanks to your accounts of your evenings as a debutante.

Anthony patted Hyacinth on her head, laughing at her protectiveness. "Yes, I will be doing whatever Y/N would like me to do. Now run along, I've been attacked in my own home long enough." With a satisfied huff, Hyacinth ran out of the sitting room just as fast as she had come in, snatching Lady Whistledown's column out of Anthony's hand and taking it with her.

You smiled after her, shaking your head fondly. Anthony had let you take the lead on the speed and nature of your courtship, and you were more than grateful for the ability to choose the pace at which the two of you progressed. True to his word, he had not pressed you for an answer to his unusual proposal, and instead let you come to him once you were ready.

And sure enough, a week ago, you had made your way over to the Bridgerton household and asked to speak with Anthony privately. In the quiet of his study, you had accepted his proposal, finally laying to rest your dreams of spending the rest of your life with your best friend. It was a bittersweet moment for you. In a way, you felt relieved that you didn't have to pine after Benedict uselessly anymore, having a solid plan in place now and getting as close to what you wanted out of a marriage as possible, barring the possibility of romantic love. But a louder and more insistent part of you was feeling this loss to the bone. Loss of what you didn't know, since you and Ben had never been romantically involved, nor had you ever expected to marry him. Though you supposed a small part of you always held out some hope that Benedict might feel the same way about you as you did about him. That he also thought about you every night, laying in bed alone and wishing you could be in his arms. That the sketches of you and forehead kisses and endless pages of correspondence and hours spent talking together could mean more than just friendship. But in the end, you knew you had been foolish to think that two decades of friendship could be undone by a half-joking comment asking if he wanted to marry you.

Anthony, for his part, had been delighted, giving you an encouraging smile and a firm squeeze on your shoulder once he heard your final answer. He hadn't expected anything from you, of course, but he was happy that he could provide a solution that would benefit both of you. However, his proposal and your subsequent acceptance created a new challenge. Though you did intend to marry him, this wasn't what was usually considered a 'real' courtship, and you were hesitant to widely announce this fact to the gossip-hungry members of the ton.

"Anthony," you began, taking a seat opposite him. "I think we should discuss how we'll present this to the ton. I don't relish the idea of scandal, and I imagine neither do you."

"Mmm the pesky Lady Whistledown continues her reign of terror," hummed Anthony amusedly, shifting in his seat. "In all honesty, I believe any rumors would more negatively affect you, given the nature of our respective positions in society. I also know this is probably a more delicate situation for you than it is for me, so I'd be happy to go along with whatever you would like," said Anthony, sending you a sympathetic smile at the unspoken mention of Benedict.

Clearing your throat and ignoring the tightness in your chest, you pushed through your hurt. "Well, I think the most obvious question is of who we should tell. About the terms of our partnership, that is," you said, putting your hand on your chin and dreading the headache this whole ordeal would be. "I fear my mother might slit your throat and mine were she to find out that I am purposefully giving up on the possibility of a love match, especially after she told me repeatedly there's no rush," you said, looking up at Anthony with an apology in your eyes.

But he shook his head in response, "That's no bother, it is to be expected. I'm slightly scared my mother would react the same." You let out a snort at the thought of Anthony, at thirty years old, still scared of his mother. He rolled his eyes at you, knowing exactly why you were laughing at him, and continued speaking. "Regardless, I don't think we should tell anyone. We can be vague about our intentions and the specifics of our courtship until I propose publicly."

You nodded, trying to plan out that far ahead and feeling your heart speed up when you thought of Anthony on one knee proposing in front of other people. A real proposal this time. "Perhaps a month will be enough time? For it to be believable that we fell in love. That seems like a reasonable timeline, right?" you asked him, trying to imagine how long it might take you to fall in love with someone. Thinking back on your friendship with Benedict, you could recognize that you had been in love with him for years now, even if you didn't know it at the time. But you didn't have twenty years to fall in love with someone else, so a month with Anthony would have to do.

"Considering we've known each other two decades, I'm sure the ton would believe we were in love if we married tomorrow. It's our families we have to convince," Anthony reminded you. Because we all know you and Benedict are in love, he thought.

You nodded, thinking through all of your family members and their possible reactions to finding out you were marrying Anthony Bridgerton, of all people. If anything, they would probably expect Benedict to be the one to propose, no matter how absurd and impossible the idea was to you now. But this only made it more crucial that your courtship with Anthony was believable.

"I don't think we'll be able to convince Alex after the night we had in your study," you said finally. "Besides, it might be beneficial to have someone else on our side helping convince our families."

Although he seemed unsure, Anthony eventually conceded, letting out a grunt. "I'm inclined to agree. I could tell him later tonight at White's," he suggested. "We were planning on going with Colin and the twins but I'm sure I'll get a moment alone with him. It will probably be best to tell him earlier rather than later if I don't want a black eye," he joked, winking at you.

"Thank you," you answered gratefully. You weren't quite sure how Alexander would react to the news, knowing that you had just had your heart broken by Benedict and were now jumping into a partnership with his older brother, so you were happy Anthony offered to tell him instead of facing him yourself.

"So, how should we start courting?" you asked. "Well, not actually courting, but you know what I mean," you quickly corrected yourself.

Anthony smiled softly at you, understanding your need to specify that this wasn't a real courtship. Unlike you, he wasn't deeply in love with his best friend, so it was much easier for him to start pursuing someone, however real or fake it might be. But he knew that, at some level, you felt like you were betraying Benedict. Or at least betraying the feelings you had for him. At that moment, Anthony truly wished that Benedict would stop being a complete idiot. If not for Ben's own sake then to stop the absolute torment he saw in your eyes every time you thought of a future without your best friend.

"Ah, yes, our incredibly cunning ruse," Anthony responded, trying to keep his tone light. "I think we could probably start with a promenade a few days from now if you are amenable. It might be good to start with something a bit more casual," he said carefully.

"That's a good idea," you agreed. "Perhaps two days from now? It will give Alex enough time to digest the idea and I can mention to my mother that you asked if I wanted to get back into the social scene after such a long hiatus. I'm sure she'll be ecstatic enough to ignore the minor details."

Anthony nodded, already planning his speech to your older brother. "I can also start making off-handed comments around my family to really sell it," he suggested.

"Oh, that's perfect! I think we might just pull it off," you said, smiling at Anthony and feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders.

But Anthony could not relax yet. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, knowing you needed to address the issue of Benedict but also understanding that it was a relatively painful topic at the moment. After shifting in his seat slightly and receiving a quizzical look from you, he finally spoke up. "How would you like to tell Benedict?" he asked delicately.

You winced at the mention of his name. You had no idea, to be honest. How were you going to tell your best friend that you were marrying his brother? Saying it in person and having to see Benedict's reaction in person would be incredibly painful, but saying it in a letter would be worse, you reasoned. Especially since you had avoided any mention of potential suitors in your correspondence thus far, and were planning on continuing to do so. The letters exchanged between you were too precious, too intimate, to be ruined by the mention of one of your suitors. You stared at Anthony, resigned. "It would probably be better coming from me, wouldn't it?"

Anthony gave you a sympathetic smile. "I'm not trying to get out of doing it, I know this will be one of the most difficult parts. But I believe it'll be better if he hears this from you. He would be crushed if he found out you were getting married from anyone other than you."

You sat back in your seat, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what was to come. If Ben reacted negatively to your relationship with Anthony, you might never see him again. You were desperate to make the blow as soft as possible and preserve as much of your friendship with Ben as you could. "I suppose you're right. I want to tell him in person, though," you said, nervously playing with your fingers. You felt thick tears in your eyes at the realization that if Benedict were here right now, he would be the one rubbing your hand with his thumb as he usually did when you were anxious.

Sensing your inner conflict, Anthony jumped to provide you with a solution. "If you want our courtship to last for a month, that aligns almost perfectly with our country house party in Kent. It would make sense for Benedict to come to Aubrey Hall for the party anyway, and you could have some time alone with him to tell him."

You nodded, quickly blinking the tears from your eyes. It was a perfect plan, indeed. Everything fit together perfectly, you realized with a sinking feeling. You were still half-hoping that there would be a reason you couldn't go through with this, or a massive oversight as to why the plan wouldn't work. But it seemed to be foolproof. Even the painful bits were accounted for and Anthony had made them to be as painless as possible.

And so began the biggest deceit of your life. All things considered, it was good fun. You and Anthony had decided to see each other four times per week, attending a minimum of two balls together and promenading once. Although it had only been a week, you found yourself enjoying the change of pace. You could now attend balls without having to interact with any desperate bachelors vying for your hefty dowry. What's more, Anthony had been bringing you a bouquet after every ball, which served to placate your mother above all else.

Even promenading with Anthony was enjoyable, seeing as the two of you understood each other quite well. It was nothing compared to how deeply Benedict understood you, or how engaging discussions were with him, but Anthony was miles ahead of anyone besides Ben. After only a week of courting, you found yourself better able to think about Benedict without dissolving into a puddle of tears, desperately wondering whether or not he was thinking of you while in the countryside. Your letters to him became less painful and more frequent, as you were able to push through your debilitating love for him and just enjoy speaking about art and literature.

As time went on, you were growing more and more confident that you had made the right decision, especially now that Lady Whistledown had written about your courtship, as Hyacinth had so kindly informed you. Whistledown's words were gospel to the people of polite society, so her mention of the two of you helped cement the validity of your budding relationship. Hopefully both your families would follow the rest of the ton and accept that Anthony, and not Benedict, was the one you were spending the majority of your time with now.

Although you had hoped Alex would help you in this endeavor, he had been unyieldingly silent on the matter. The day after Anthony explained your plan to him at White's, he came into your room and informed you that he knew what you and Anthony were doing. You had expected him to show at least some form of emotion, but he had simply said that he would not stand in your way and walked right out without any further discussion. Even now, a week later, he refused to talk about it with you, immediately changing the subject or just outright leaving the room when the matter of you and Anthony came up in conversation. You were disappointed, feeling like you were living a lie in and out of your home, but you supposed it was for the best. You could sacrifice talking to someone who knew the whole story for the assurance that none of your family would find out the truth. Especially not your mother.

---

As you looked out of your window to the beautiful grounds of Aubrey Hall, your mind couldn't help but drift to Benedict's latest letter. His reply had been short, which was to be expected given that you had asked him to return from the countryside to meet your future husband. Writing the letter had been almost physically painful, but you knew it was necessary. You could only hope that the tears on the paper were not too noticeable once they reached Ben.

After nearly a month of faking a courtship with Anthony, you were much more well-adjusted when it came to talking and thinking about Benedict. But a month was nowhere near long enough to quell the now all-encompassing love you had spent years growing. You didn't think you could ever stop loving Benedict, not entirely anyway. He was your Benedict, and he would be forever. You had grown up so intertwined in one another that he was as much a part of you as you were yourself. The love you felt for him was not a feeling, exactly, but more of a part of your identity. And it was all good and fun until you had to give that up to be with someone else. Though Anthony, bless him, was making it as easy for you as he could. He expected nothing more than what you were willing to give, and you couldn't thank him enough. It had been surprisingly easy to fall into a partnership with him, not feeling the undue stress of having to promptly get over Benedict that you had felt with all of your other suitors.

Your thoughts were interrupted as Theo and Bastian knocked on your door, barging in when you opened the door just a fraction. They ignored your exasperated sigh, opting instead to sit on your bed. Seeing Bastian's shoe-clad feet on your white bedding incited an anger in you that only your brothers knew how to elicit. But your murderous intentions were cut short by Theo's question.

"So, will Benedict be joining us?"

Your heart skipped a beat as you gazed from one twin to the other, trying to gauge the intention of their question. Seeing your anxious eyes, Theo rushed to explain. "We only wanted to check because... you know... yeah," he finished lamely.

"Because what?" you demanded, slightly put off by what they were implying. Thus far, your family had abstained from mentioning Benedict when speaking about your courtship with Anthony. Although they had been visibly shocked by the idea at first, they had now grown used to seeing you with Anthony instead of Benedict and it had become somewhat of the norm. Except perhaps for Cass, who was still young and a hopeful romantic. You knew she secretly still wished that Ben would return from the countryside in some kind of grand romantic gesture that would sweep you off your feet. Unfortunately, you simply couldn't afford to think that way for your sanity. Instead, you ignored her sad looks whenever Anthony sent you a particularly large bouquet of roses. So it came as a little bit of a shock that Theo and Bastian were being so forthright about the subject, showing little to no tact in handling what was a very painful situation for you.

You saw your brothers exchange a panicked look, clearly not expecting your bristling tone. "Because we haven't seen him in a while!" blurted out Bastian.

"Yes, exactly," said Theo, nodding aggressively. "It's just been some time since we last saw Benedict and we're wondering whether you knew if he'll be coming. So we can see him and all. Is he doing alright?"

You sniffed, crossing your arms stiffly and uttering a curt reply, "I see. Well, yes. He will be coming. He should be arriving in a few hours. And yes, he's alright. He's been faring quite well but I think he's coming back to town properly now."

Catching the wide-eyed look they exchanged, you rolled your eyes in annoyance. "And yes! He knows I've been courting someone, which I know was your next question. Though he doesn't know it's Anthony so don't you dare tell him. I will tell him myself once he arrives," you warned them.

"Wouldn't dream of it," assured Theo.

"Sorry about that. Let us know if you need anything," added Bastian.

You hummed. "Thank you very much. Now please get your dirty shoes off my bed or I'm afraid I will have to kill you. And we wouldn't want to make Mother sad over the death of two of her sons, would we?

They stood up off suddenly your bed and straightened up, clearly not having expected this to be such a hostile conversation. But they were glad you had at least cracked a joke, even if the comment threatened their untimely death. They laughed nervously and bid their goodbyes, exiting your room quickly.

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you closed the door after them, placing your forehead against the cool wood. You had most likely overreacted, but you would have to apologize another time. The sinking feeling of anxiety in your stomach took precedence over your brothers right now, as much as it was inconvenient for them.

The earlier flutters in your stomach had turned into giant somersaults, and you felt like you were going to be positively sick. You would have to tell Benedict that you were engaged to Anthony soon since you knew it would be unimaginably cruel to let Ben learn about your courtship to his brother as he was proposing to you.

The easiest thing would be to tell him during one of your nature walks. Whenever you were at Aubrey Hall, you and Benedict went on nature walks around the grounds, where you would often point out familiar flower and plant species, and he would remind you to take in the beautiful landscape. These walks could often last for hours, just the two of you wrapped up in each other's presence. And although it was usually Ben who suggested them, you had planned to ask him on a nature walk tomorrow morning to break the news that Anthony was the man you intended to marry. It would give him ample time and space to process the information, and some precious privacy to sort out any unresolved feelings on both sides.

Yet, the meticulously thought-out plan you had come up with did absolutely nothing to soothe your fears for the actual moment that you would tell him. In all honesty, you had no idea how Benedict would react. You weren't even sure how you wanted him to react. You supposed the best-case scenario would be if he calmly listened and said he understood your choice, and perhaps even thought it a good idea since you would be able to remain close to him. But you couldn't help a very tiny part of you that had previously been locked in the depths of your brain from hoping that Benedict wouldn't react calmly. That he would be impossibly angry. Angry with you, and with Anthony, and with himself. So angry that maybe he would realize that he did love you, after all, however unrealistic that might be.

With a determined exhale, you pushed yourself off the door and started getting ready to go downstairs to Anthony's study. The twins' unexpected inquiry had thrown you off balance, but you couldn't afford to let it linger in your thoughts. Anthony had asked you to stop by once you arrived at Aubrey Hall to iron out the details of his proposal. In less than a week, he would officially be your fiancé, and you had to start figuring out how it would actually happen.

---

As Benedict rode through the picturesque countryside toward Aubrey Hall, the weight of the impending conversation with you settled in his chest. The familiar scenes outside the carriage window, once a source of solace, now seemed to blur as his mind whirred with conflicting emotions. The letter you had sent him requesting his presence at Aubrey Hall so he could meet your future husband lay heavily in his pocket. Ben could barely breathe from the weight of the knowledge that you were so close to being out of his grasp forever.

Reading that letter for the first time had evoked a sharp pain in his chest that he couldn't shake even now, almost a week later. Benedict was beyond nervous to meet whoever you might be marrying, unsure if he would be able to successfully hide his overpowering love for you. However, he couldn't seem to forget the faint tear stains slightly smudging your handwriting of the letter in his pocket. A selfish part of him wished that you might be sad to be marrying this mystery man. That you had settled for someone less worthy and Ben could continue to be confident (if you could call what he was feeling right now confidence) in his decision to forgo a marriage with you. But this fleeting hope was immediately replaced with guilt. You deserved more than an unhappy marriage, even if it meant embracing a future that felt like a cruel twist of fate for Benedict's own heart. Despite the agonizing ache he was feeling, he knew would do this again ten times over if it guaranteed your happiness.

Arriving at Aubrey Hall, Ben dismissed the carriage with a nod of thanks to the driver. With his belongings in tow, he decided to stop by Anthony's study first. His older brother had surely already met your suitor and could perhaps offer some insight so Benedict wasn't entirely blindsided when you officially introduced him.

As Ben approached the door, he caught the sound of your voice, a sweet sound that made him smile wider than he had since he left you. He couldn't help but linger for a moment, enchanted by the familiarity of your tone and wishing he hadn't spent so long away from it.

But his attention sharpened as he overheard your conversation with Anthony. "I think it might be best if it's not a massive surprise to our families, especially Hyacinth. So, would you want to announce our engagement before everyone gets here? Sometime in the coming days? And then you can propose to me properly once all the guests arrive?" he heard you speak.

Benedict's world ground to a halt. The words hung in the air, a revelation that left him stunned. He went numb, pure anger coursing through his veins as he burst open the door and barged into his older brother's study. His eyes, aggressively narrowed into slits, fell on his best friend, sitting at his brother's desk as Anthony leaned against it. Time froze as you and Anthony turned towards him, expressions of shock clear on your faces.

"I beg your pardon?" he spoke, tone low and venomous as he breathed heavily. "What the bloody hell did you just say?"

—

A/N: just wanted to say thank you everyone so much for reading ahhhh I'm so happy to see all of your reactions after every part and I just LOVE YOU okay kisses bye

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[newfoundstateof]

baby, we're the new romantics | benedict bridgerton

summary: engaged!reader learns that she is enraptured by both men and women at a late-night gathering

word count: 4.3k

warnings: nfsw 18+, threesome ffm

a/n: this one is for the gays!!!!! pretty tame for smut, too much plot but that's just what i prefer

Summer was fast approaching, and you and your fiancé, Charles Beckworth, shared a comfortable silence, taking a turn around the garden. While you checked on your flowers, he enjoyed the first warm sunlight of the year. After deciding that a tulip patch was growing nicely, you turned to your betrothed.

“Tell me where you run off to in the night,” you whispered to him. “You have been suspiciously leaving events early this season. Where are you going?”

Charlie looked at you, and a whisper of shock crossed his face. But his expression was quickly schooled.

“Home?” he said plainly.

“I know you are not retiring to your bachelor lodgings,” you pressed. “It’s eating me alive, so tell me. I am your most trusted confidant, yes?”

Your free hand squeezed his arm that was looped with yours, urging him to remember all that you have been through. 

You’d met last season. Needing some fresh air during another stiff ball, you stole away to the garden and found a kindred soul in the gazebo. Charlie also despised the social season. Initially, you thought him a rake and not ready to settle down. But he was just like you, simply mourning the youth that you hadn’t realized was over until its sudden death. The two of you concocted a plan: until one of you was ready for marriage, the two of you would pretend to court.

It wasn’t until you found him and another man half undressed, hidden from a gallery viewing, that you realized he would never be ready for marriage. He expected you to cast him out and was surprised when you proposed the next day. After a season of finding the company of men underwhelming, you supposed there were worse fates than marrying your best friend.

“Fine.” Leaning in, he continued, “You know I find pleasure with the same sex.”

You nodded slowly.

“I go to parties that allow me to show my affection to them,” he confessed. “But it’s no place for you. The ladies there are not-”

“Ladies are welcome?” you interrupted. “Parties where they talk of social reform? Humanism? Free love? Ladies are present at these?”

“I’m surprised you even know of such events,” Charlie teased.

You shrugged. “My parents complain about your sort endlessly. Radicals will ruin this country!”

“This country could stand to be ruined,” Charlie said. “And yes, those are the kind of parties I attend. You wouldn’t like-”

“Then I must come with you.”

“No,” Charlie said in a stern voice he had never used with you before.

“Yes,” you insisted.

“Hearing the things they speak of and seeing the things they partake in would make you faint instantly.” You laughed before realizing he was serious.

“Please take me with you,” you pleaded. “You know that I can keep a secret.”

Charlie pursed his lips. “Maybe one day, darling.”

It took weeks of bargaining and reasoning and flattery, but Charlie eventually yielded. Suffice it to say, your first party did not end well. The next morning, you still felt as if your stomach had more to wretch up, and you swore off alcohol for the rest of your life. But after a few more late nights, you could hold your spirits.

The arrangement required more lying than you were comfortable with, feigning illnesses or a small injury. Charlie, ever the gentleman, would escort you back home with his mother as a chaperone. But his mother, ever the romantic, would allow the coachmen to drop her off home first, so the two of you could steal some extra time together. To her knowledge, you made it home safely, and Charlie retired to his bachelor lodgings.

Having a secret was fun, especially since you kept it with your best friend. Although you and Charlie went your separate ways at parties, you still stole furtive, snickering glances at each other. Watching the other shine. Him with that week’s paramour, you with the university students, who were home for summer and whom you hounded with questions.

Tonight, Charlie was whispering to one of his favorite lovers by the staircase. As you watched in the living room, you observed what Charlie did best. Seducing. Alluring. Convincing the other man to follow him upstairs for some fun. You’d never had that sort of fun. You were a bit jealous of him as you gulped down the rest of your drink. Before Charlie disappeared upstairs, he flashed you a wink. You teasingly rolled your eyes in return.

Although gatherings like these were filled with debauchery, foreign drugs, and gallons of whiskey, intellectual conversations could be found if one sought them out. Tonight, the topic was Byron’s “She Walks in Beauty.” A pipe was placed in your hands, cutting off your flow of thought, as a lady sat down, joining you on the loveseat.

“Oh,” you gasped, holding the unfamiliar pipe between your thumb and index finger. “I don’t smoke.”

The lady chuckled, her sly smile contagious. “You do now. Open up.”

She leaned into you, bringing the pipe up to your mouth with one hand. The other came up to rest on your shoulder. Your lips wrapped around the wooden tip, and you looked up at her curiously, waiting for additional instruction.

“Breathe in,” she giggled.

You did as told. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath in, the smoke setting your lungs ablaze. Soon, you were hunched over your knees and coughing.

“Oh, maybe you don’t smoke,” said the lady, taking the pipe from you. “It’s okay, it never feels right at first.”

“That was just tobacco, yes?” you asked, coughing once more into your hand.

“Just tobacco,” she nodded, taking a puff from the pipe. “My name is Victoria Leybourne. We’ve not yet been introduced, but I see you plenty. You’re Charlie’s wife aren’t you?”

“Fiancé,” you corrected. “We are to be married the day before Christmas.”

“It’s lovely what you’re doing for him,” Victoria said. “Though I suppose that he is doing a lovely thing for you in return.”

You hummed, a little confused with her wording. “He is my best friend, I would do anything for him. And it is an added bonus that I would be granted lots of freedom I otherwise wouldn’t have with another man.”

“You wouldn’t consider spinsterhood?” Victoria asked.

“No, why would I?”

Victoria paused, staring into your eyes in deep thought. “So you’re not… You are enraptured by the male species?”

You almost coughed. “Erm… yes. I suppose am.”

“And what of the female of the species?”

Her hand came up to brush a piece of hair away from your face, but she continued to stroke something small and invisible at your temple. Her eyes were sharp yet alluringly gentle. You never suspected you were like Charlie, but what could possibly explain the ache you felt between your legs?

“I have never once… considered it,” you told her truthfully, “but am simultaneously not opposed to the idea at all.”

“How fascinating.” She took another drag from the pipe but held the smoke in her mouth.

As she inched closer to you, you realized what she intended to do. Hesitantly, you let your jaw fall and craned your neck towards her. Victoria’s hands slid their way up your neck to cradle the sides of your face, ticking your skin.

The touch of a woman was so familiar. Your mother was constantly adjusting your hair just so, and lady’s maids dressed you each morning. But this was different. This made your heart drop and your mouth dry. It was scary how out of touch you felt with your body, but you knew that you didn’t want her to stop.

Victoria’s lips barely grazed your own, and she slowly exhaled. Following her pace, you breathed in her smoke. It stung, but this time you knew you could bear it. Breathing it back out, it enveloped Victoria’s round face.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked.

“Maybe not here,” you said, looking around the room.

No one was paying attention, too absorbed in talks on the state of the country and what the future had in store. But your eyes caught one man in the corner, drinking alone. He was watching the two of you intently. His fingers tugged his cravat from his neck, bringing it down to cover his manhood. But it was too late, both you and Victoria had seen the large bulge in his pants. Your cheeks reddened, realizing that he had been watching.

“Looks like our host seems to be enjoying the view,” Victoria sang. “We should extend an invitation. Would that be okay? From previous experience, I can assure you that you won’t regret it.”

“I…” You were at a loss for words. “Maybe he could watch?”

You couldn’t believe what you had just said. Just the same with lying with a woman, it had never before crossed your mind of intimacy between more than two people. But, you couldn’t help but relate to the man’s voyeurism. When couples hurriedly left the dance floor at balls, you couldn’t stop yourself from following to see what happened next—what truly happened when one loved another.

Victoria let out a delighted squeal and took your hand. As she led you across the room to the man, his gaze never left yours.

“Benedict Bridgerton,” she smiled, finally reaching him.

So this was Benedict Bridgerton. Being an unmarried woman in London, of course, you had heard the name. But the man himself was elusive. He rarely attended events of the ton; his mother always claimed nothing could pull him away from his art studio. You would have never guessed he had instead been hosting parties of his own all this time.

“Victoria,” he grinned. “Who do we have here?”

“Charlie’s girl,” she said, giving your hand a squeeze. “She’s a bit shy, so I’m afraid you can’t join us in the ways that matter. But she says you’re permitted to watch.”

His eyebrow quirked at that. “Fascinating.”

His gaze was glued to Victoria, making you fidget. You felt like a fly on the wall at that moment; it was a feeling you knew all too well from the various balls of the season. One debutant of nearly a hundred. Back then, you didn’t mind going unnoticed, but now, you realized that you wanted his attention. You wanted to be seen.

“I think the same of her, yes,” Victoria nodded. “Well, come now. Perhaps you can lend some advice. And of course, lead us to the best room.”

Benedict rose, finally acknowledging you again, scanning your body from head to foot. He greeted you by name which surprised you. You’d never been formally introduced. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“A pleasure, my lord,” you said instinctively.

“Oh, it will be indeed,” Victoria chuckled, pulling you closer.

The two of you followed Benedict through his bachelor lodgings, weaving between arguments and intertwined bodies alike. His confident stride led you up the stairs to a large bedroom at the end of the hallway. 

“Your personal chambers,” Victoria hummed, still holding your hand. “We are certainly receiving special treatment tonight.”

She finally let go of your hand to close the door, locking it with a quick click.

“This doesn’t happen often,” he admits, pulling a chair up to the foot of his bed, taking a seat, and kicking off his shoes. “But I’m certainly ready for a show.”

Victoria preened next to you, and a shiver ran down your spine.

“Now, get on the bed,” he ordered.

Victoria left your side and crawled up on the bed, standing on her knees. Never in a million years would you have imagined doing this. Taking pleasure in another woman—in front of a man no less. But something inside you stirred in excitement, and you wanted to do a good job. For Victoria and for Benedict. You just weren’t sure that you could.

Benedict’s head lolled to face you. “You can change your mind, dear. We won’t mind.”

“No,” you croaked out. “No, I’m just nervous is all.”

This was your first… well, everything to be quite honest. Since joining Charlie on his late nights, men have approached you, remarked on your beauty, led you to a private corner. And you let them. You were curious. There’d been modest kisses and less than thrilling groping, but none of that counted to you. It hadn’t mattered a great deal to you, but this does.

Rising, Benedict crossed the room to you, taking your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “No need for nerves. And we can stop whenever you like, just say the word.”

He led you to the bed, helping you up before returning to his seat. Victoria smiled, taking the same hand Benedict held seconds ago.

“You’re stunning,” she sighed.

“You’re radiant,” you said quickly. But it was true. Her dark hair and eyes drew you in like a magnet.

You were mere inches from her face and could feel her warm breath as she breathed heavily in anticipation. But somehow air was caught in your own lungs, and your muscles were too tense to give any release. Downstairs, you and Vicotria were hidden in plain sight, but now, there was nothing to hide your want for another woman. Now, you were positioned in front of Benedict as if on a stage.

“Take a breath, dear,” Benedict said gently. “No need to hold it in.”

You exhaled sharply. Almost a pant.

“Now, do what you could not downstairs,” he directed. “There’s no shame here.”

And in an instant, your hands found Victoria’s waist, and her lips were crashing into yours. Victoria’s lips were full and plush. Her mouth had a smokey taste from the pipe you shared, but despite this, they still tasted sweet. Her grip was stronger than expected as she took the sides of your face to pull you harder into her. Out of the corner of your eye, Benedict started to shed his coat and vest, making your heart race faster.

Although Victoria was the one to pursue you, she gave you most of the control. Underneath her soft curves, you felt strong muscles; she could’ve easily pinned you to the mattress, but instead, she followed your instincts. She was the one to fall to her back, letting you crawl over her, running your lips up the column of her neck. Her whines were music to your ears. You needed more. You needed a symphony.

Your hands kneaded at her breasts, her teeth pulling on your bottom lip, when Benedict appeared at your side. He leaned a hand on the bedpost but didn’t get any closer than that.

“Have you been intimate with a woman before?” he asked. No judgment, just curiosity.

“No,” you gasped, eyes still shut in pleasure.

“Would you like guidance?”

Your head shot up, eyes struggling to focus. At first, you thought to be insulted. What you lacked in experience, you at least thought you made up for in vigor.

“You’re doing well, don’t worry,” chuckled Benedict. “But I have some tricks that may increase your lady’s pleasure even more.”

“I thought you were just going to watch,” you said.

“I have more experience, dear.” He wasn’t smug, simply factual. “If you allow it, I wish to help.”

“Please, Benedict,” Victoria moaned underneath you. “If she allows it.”

He looked at you, unnervingly serious. “Do you allow it?”

You hesitated. “I allow it.”

Benedict immediately shifted onto the bed, urging you to sit up so you were straddling Victoria.

“You too, Victoria. We need to rid you of some layers,” he decided.

With your help, she rose from the bed. Her curly hair was wild and mussed. “Will you do the honors, my lord?”

Benedict’s gaze flicked to you, and you gave a quick nod. It was clear Benedict and Victoria had a trusting relationship. He certainly excited her as well. With expert precision, he stripped her gown, leaving her in a white chemise, and toyed with one of the lace straps.

“Follow my lead,” Benedict instructed.

Your left hand came up to Victoria’s other strap, and as if there were a mirror, your and Benedict’s hands moved in synch. The straps slunk down her arms like slow molasses, revealing the very top of Victoria’s corset that Benedict was already loosening.

“We’ll start small,” he said. “Well, not small, my dear.”

Victoria giggled as he shimmied the corset down her waist, revealing her well-endowed chest. Your hand reached out to gently massage her nipple that hardened underneath your touch. 

“Mmm,” she moaned, leaning into you.

“A natural,” Benedict chuckled. “Yes, keep circling your fingers around her. Even give it a slight pinch if you wish.”

You obediently followed his instructions.

“I’ll ease the ache of her other breast,” he said, his hand already snaking from her shoulder, down her chest. “How does it feel, Victoria.”

“Heavenly,” she breathed, eyes shut in pleasure. “But you know what I prefer, Benedict.”

“Yes,” he purred, mouth pressed against her ear. Just the sight caused a rush to your center. “She much prefers being worked by tongue. Are you ready for that?”

That was all the invitation you needed to lean forward and latch onto her breast. You could hear her heartbeat, feel her breath hitch, taste her sweet skin. You looked up to find both of them staring down at you in awe.

“A sight to behold,” Benedict said. “Try suckling, my dear.”

Like a kitten lapping at a bowl of milk for the first time, your movement was awkward yet eager. Sensing your hesitation, Benedict shifted to Victoria’s side and brought his own lips to her other breast.

“Like this, love,” he said.

Still working Victoria, your gaze flicked to him, and you studied. Observed the way his cheeks hollowed out, his tongue momentarily escaping to circle the underside of her breast. From above, Victoria let out small cries of pleasure, latching a hand behind Benedict’s head to guide him better. You followed suit and soon felt Victoria’s other hand gathering the hair at the nape of your neck. A chorus of salacious suckling and heaving breathing filled the room. You were a trio of moans.

Suddenly, you felt a rough hand grasp your own. Together, your and Benedict’s fingers found Victoria’s center. Hot and slick and velvety, it felt like your own when you touched yourself when no one was near. But at the same time, it was entirely different. A whole new world to explore, one that you wanted to dive into and never leave. Quickly finding her pleasure area, you circled it in the opposite direction your tongue rounded her nipples. When Benedict used his own fingers to enter her, Victoria pulled hard. Hard enough that you and Benedict came up gasping for air.

“The two of you are going to be the death of me,” she sighed before pressing searing kisses to first your lips, then Benedict’s. With her hands still grasping your neck, she gently guided your faces to each other. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you said together.

And then his lips were on yours. It took everything in you not to continue pleasuring Victoria with the same victor, but your mind was hazy. His teeth were nipping your lips and his fingers were soon filling your mouth with Victoria’s sweetness. Sure, you had allowed men to kiss you and roam your body before. But that had simply been for experimentation, trying something new for the sake of it. Kissing Benedict was different. You wanted it. You wanted to express yourself and explore him. His fingers retreated back down, but instead of Victoria’s core, they found yours underneath your skirts. You gasped. No other person had ever pleasured you there.

“She looks like she’s found eternal life,” Victoria moaned.

“I think I have.” Involuntarily, your head lulled back, but Victoria supported the back of your neck. Soon, she was joining the kiss, and you couldn’t tell whose lips, tongue, teeth were whose.

At your center, Victoria’s hand began to roam along with Benedict’s. She teased your entrance until you shifted your hips and took her down to her knuckle. Whincing, you adjusted to the tightness. It stung but with pleasure. As Benedict stroked you, Victoria started pumping. Despite everything, you wanted more and rotated your hips against them both, chasing this new feeling. 

“She wants it all,” Benedict chuckled, leaning back to watch Victoria litter your face with kisses. “An insatiable minx.”

“You’re doing beautifully,” she encouraged. “A naughty, naughty girl you are.”

Their praise only fueled you, and the small ache deep within started to grow and grow. Light tears prickled in your peripheral and small cries leaped out of your lips without you registering. 

“I…” you gasped. “I… I don’t-”

“You’re about to finish, my dear,” Benedict growled. “We’ll get you there, don’t worry.”

“Yes,” Victoria purred. “Don’t stop, my love.”

Benedict shifted around you, and both latched onto your neck, urging the ache inside you to release. Nonsense words babbled out of you before you finally cried out one final time. They continued to stroke and suckle until you had ridden out the high and came back down, gasping for air. 

“My word,” you breathed as each kissed your temples, caressed your breasts.

“Was that your first time climaxing?” Benedict asked.

“Yes, it was just about my first everything.”

Stroking your hair, Victoria smiled, “Thank you for sharing it with us.”

“We must do the same for the two of you.” You sat up straighter, waiting for instruction.

“No, no,” Benedict hushed. “Let’s just rest.”

Victoria hummed in agreement, pushing you softly to the mattress. They followed suit with Victoria taking the spot in the middle. You and Benedict curved around her, resting your heads on her breastbone—almost identical to your position earlier in the evening. A lazy smile crossed his lips before his eyes fluttered shut.

“This is heaven,” he whispered.

“Agreed,” Victoria said, stroking both of your heads. 

You nuzzled closer to her neck, breathing in her scent, intertwining your legs with hers. Although you could feel your eyelids sinking and your breath slowing, you wanted to express your gratitude.

“Thank you,” you sighed. “I’ve never, ever been happier.”

You woke with a gasp. Had it all truly happened? Looking around, you were in the same room you remembered. And next to you was a body resembling Benedict Bridgerton, but he was on his stomach facing away from you. Your heart sank, realizing there was no sign of Victoria. 

Climbing out of bed, you adjusted your dress back to its original state as best you could. By the time you slid your last shoe back on, Benedict stirred and woke.

“Abandoning me so soon?” he teased, rolling onto his side to better face you.

“I must get back before sunrise,” you said. “I suppose that’s why Victoria ran off so soon as well.”

“Yes.” Benedict rolled out of bed and began dressing. “She woke me when she left, but didn’t want to interrupt your rest.”

Once returned to order, he opened the door for you, and you both made your way to the exit. There were still a few stragglers, either sleeping or impossibly still conversing, but for the most part, the crowd had dispersed. Your shoulder brushed with his every other step as you descended the stairs.

“She asks if you will be back next week,” Benedict said.

You smiled. “How could I stay away?” 

“Good,” he replied in a proud tone. “She also asks if you’re free during calling hours tomorrow.”

“She asks that?” you laughed. “She knows that I am engaged.”

‘Right,” he said, wincing. “To dear Charles. How could I… she forget.”

Arriving at the front door, you waited for him to open it, but he didn’t. Instead, he took a step closer. 

“I know how deeply you care for him, so I will not suggest it again,” he said.

“Oh, you misunderstand. You must know that-”

“I do know,” he said.

“He’s quite popular at these gatherings, yes,” you chuckled.

“No, I know because I’ve… been with him.” Benedict's gaze bore into yours, almost as if asking something of you. “Do you remember? Last season?”

You parsed through all the memories of meeting Charlie for the first time, pretending to court one another, and becoming engaged once you learned his secret. But Benedict Bridgerton was hidden in none of these memories. 

“You walked in on us,” he supplied. “At an art gallery. I saw you the moment you walked in, but you didn’t say anything. You just watched. And I liked being watched by you, so I didn’t say anything. Charlie only noticed when you tried to make your leave but tripped on your way out.”

“That was you?” In disbelief, you took a step closer to get a better look at him. “That was you, I suppose. I didn’t get a good look at you then.”

“Are you sure,” he chuckled. “Because you seemed quite enraptured in the moment.”

You slapped his arm playfully. “I won’t apologize for my… voyeur habits, for lack of better words.”

“I’d never ask you to,” he said. “But what I mean to say is I understand your arrangement. And I would never want to do anything that jeopardizes it, so I will keep my distance. In the social scene at least.”

“But behind closed doors?” you asked, looking up at him.

“I will never stray.” He bent down, capturing your lips and pulling you closer to him. 

It took multiple attempts, but eventually, you managed to pull away and depart. The sun was just starting to rise as he waved goodbye, leaning sleepily against the door frame. In the carriage he had prepared, you slumped against the seat. You couldn’t call off your engagement. Charlie was your best friend, your mother would be so impossibly mad, and above all, you barely knew Benedict Bridgerton.

You quickly batted the thoughts away, reminding yourself that you could not cancel your wedding for a man you’d just met.

- - - -

a/n: my masterlist is here! i hope you enjoyed, this took foreverrrr to write. just constantly putting it down and picking it back up. so sadly, a second installment is not likely. but of course, please imagine an eventual happy ending :)