#Benophie drabbles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bridgertonbabe · 10 months ago

Text

Benophie Drabble - Bridgerton Brothers AU

Surveying the room around him, Benedict smiled to himself as he watched his nieces and nephews keeping Simon, Daphne, Anthony, and Kate on their toes; Colin cuddling into Penelope all the while she laughed and chatted with Eloise; his parents lost in their own little world as they rocked back and forth dancing to the music. It was a far less raucous after-party than the ones they used to have during their early years of touring but now they were all that much older and more settled (and honestly far more easy to wear out), celebrating another sold-out concert with just their loved ones was much more preferable.

There was just one notable absence for Benedict to feel particularly dispirited; his wife.

For the last twelve weeks Sophie had been on her own solo tour across the UK playing sold-out theatre shows, enchanting audiences with her mesmerising violin concertos and pop covers. Much to Benedict's dismay he had yet to be able to attend any of her shows as her tour coincided with the Bridgerton Brothers international one, otherwise he'd be attending every last one of her concerts as he had done with all of her previous tours. He had desperately tried to find any opportunity to be able to jet back to see her, but unfortunately both of their schedules were so jam-packed that there'd barely be enough time to even kiss her before he would have to fly back out for his next concert. Sophie had tried in vain as well to find any openings in her diary in order to see him but they both reluctantly accepted that they had no other options but to endure the separation apart.

At the very least it definitely made the heart grow fonder as with every new day he missed her more and more. Sure they still called and texted and video-chatted constantly but Benedict was keening to be able to see her in the flesh once more, to hold her in his arms and to kiss her and just be in her physical presence. For now however he'd have to endure just another twelve hours before they flew from Dublin to London to be reunited with Sophie once more.

Except, as Benedict looked around at all the loved-up couples; his mum and dad, Simon and Daphne, Kate and Anthony, and Colin and Penelope; he realised he couldn't actually handle waiting just twelve more hours - he wanted to be back with his wife right that very second.

Now that their Dublin concert was over and done with and knowing that Sophie's concert in Reading that night would have finished, Benedict couldn't help but feel that now was as good a time as any to simply hop on the next flight home and be with Sophie at long last.

He quickly got his phone out, putting all of his energy into manifesting a miracle last-minute flight being available to London as he googled flights out of Dublin airport that night - and his eyes lit up as soon as he saw that such a flight was in fact going to depart within the next hour.

Jumping to his feet, he marched straight over to Daphne to run his plan of action past her; after all, she was in charge of the band's itinerary. As soon as he mentioned just how desperate he was to see Sophie again, Daphne assured him to leave everything with her. She'd book his flight and cancel his seat on the one the following morning so long as he left immediately. He pecked his sister on the cheek, thanking her profusely before legging it out the room.

In just under two hours he was opening the front door to the home he shared with Sophie, making sure to be as quiet as possible as he made his way up the stairs and into their bedroom. As soon as he caught sight of his wife sleeping peacefully in the bed they shared his heart swelled up and the feeling of homecoming washed over him.

Typically after any flight the first thing he'd do is have a quick shower but after twelve long weeks apart from Sophie, there was nothing he wanted to do more than slip under the covers and simply hold her. After ridding himself of every garment but his pants he got into bed as carefully as he could, doing everything he could not to disturb her sleep. Rather adorably she was cuddling a pillow - one of his pillows - as well as wearing one of his old sweatshirts and Benedict couldn't help smiling, elated in the knowledge that Sophie had been missing him as much as he had missed her. He gently wrapped his arms around her, spooning her (and the pillow), and buried his head into her curly tresses.

At long last he was back where he belonged; home.

🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵

Sophie was exhausted by the time she got in that evening and had only just remembered to give a wave of thanks over her shoulder to her driver before she entered her home. Normally at this time she would be buzzing with post-concert energy but as of late once she had finished a show she was desperate to climb into bed and fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

It also didn't help that she was missing her husband dreadfully and had spent the last twelve weeks yearning to be reunited with him in person once more. While his absence had only made her heart fonder of him, she was relieved that come midday the following day he would be home at last. Finally she'd be able to embrace him, to kiss him, to talk and laugh in person, to just be with him - and the quicker she got herself to bed and fell asleep, the sooner she'd be expecting him by the time she woke up.

As she had done since they had been apart, she dressed for bed in an old sweatshirt of his, one she had adopted from Benedict long ago but it still smelled like him and made her feel closer to him despite the distance they had endurd for the past twelve weeks. Then once she was under the covers she grabbed a hold of one of the pillows from Benedict's side of the bed and cuddled into it, treasuring the feel of it against her as her husband's stand-in; and as soon as she was comfortable and had closed her eyes, she fell straight to sleep.

While sleeping soundly her brain flashed up images of her husband, memories of him flopping down on the sofa she was sat on and resting his head in her lap, how he'd always ensure he pointed to her in the crowd whenever she attended his concerts, the way she'd always find his eyes at her concerts and how he beamed proudly back at her, how safe and protected she felt being held in his arms and how she could practically feel his warm breath against the back of her neck as he buried his head in amongst her curls and his hands came to rest on the pillow she was cuddling as he spooned her...

In fact, it almost felt too real to just be a dream.

Sophie's eyes gently opened as her conscious lazily stirred awake and she observed the darkness of the bedroom and the stillness of the night - and then after several seconds it finally registered that there was a warm body cuddling her, the feeling of which was so familiar she knew instantaneously it was her husband.

"Ben?" she rasped, her voice thick with sleep.

"Hey." he breathed back against her neck and squeezed her gently in greeting.

"What are you doing here?" she blearily asked, not having expected him home for roughly another twelve hours, and attempted to turn in his hold.

"Couldn't bear to be away from you a second longer." he answered but prevented her from twisting round to face him. "Sleep, my love. We'll have all the time tomorrow." he assured her gently, pressing a kiss against her back, and snuggling into her.

And though Sophie could have blissfully drifted off back to sleep in that moment, before she could succumb to slumber once more her brain kicked into gear and she excitedly remembered a very particular reason why she had been more desperate than ever before to see her husband. Without a second to lose Sophie leaned over to switch on the bedside lamp and shuffled herself to sit up.

"Soph." Benedict groaned, squeezing his already shut eyes even tighter from the sudden burst of light. "There's no need-"

"Oh Ben." she sighed affectionately as she got her first proper look at her husband in the flesh for the first time in twelve weeks, and she leaned down to kiss him tenderly on the lips.

In spite of his disgruntled exhaustion, Benedict was sufficiently woken up by his wife's lips against his as he kissed back without hesitation. He managed to crack open his eyes when she pulled away to gaze at her adoringly, a soft lazy smile curving his lips as he reached out to pull her back in.

"I've got something to tell you." she said as she intertwined her hands with the ones that were trying to drag her into a cuddle.

"Oh, can't it wait?" Benedict grumbled. "The whole point of sneaking in was so I didn't disturb you."

"And that was very thoughtful of you - but this can't wait." she told him; after all, Sophie had been impatiently waiting for the last six weeks to tell him this and there was no way in hell she was going to keep it to herself for a second longer.

"What is it?" Benedict relented with a laborious sigh and reluctantly pulled himself up to lean against the headboard.

Sophie twisted around, opening the drawer of her bedside table, and presented him with a gift box. He raised an intrigued eyebrow, having been under the impression she was about to tell him something but after receiving a nod of encouragement from her he accepted the gift and opened the lid.

As Sophie watched on eagerly, he pulled back the tissue paper to reveal a baby onesie with the words Daddy's #1 Fan emblazoned on it. Benedict stared at it for a few seconds, his brain being affected by tiredness and delaying his reaction when suddenly it clicked and he shot his head up to meet Sophie's sparkling gaze.

"You're pregnant?" he swallowed and she nodded in confirmation. "We're having a baby?"

"We're having a baby, Ben." she answered gleefully and in a flash she was swept up into his arms.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" he chanted into the crook of her neck as he clutched her to him. "Sophie." he choked out and kissed her neck. "Oh god, Sophie I'm so happy. I'm so so happy. I love you, I love you so much." he teared up and punctuated his joy with kisses up the column of her neck until his lips were on hers.

"I love you too." she laughed shakily, blissfully overjoyed with his ecstatic reaction.

"How far along?" he asked.

"Well that flying visit twelve weeks back did the trick." she answered and Benedict's face lit up in amazement.

Having children was always on the cards for them and they had planned to start trying for a baby once Benedict was home from touring, however they had certainly made the most of Sophie's one night in the US to get ahead of their baby-making plans.

"I can't believe it." Benedict beamed. "How long have you known?"

"Six weeks." Sophie exhaled and brought a hand through his hair. "I've been dying to tell you but I wanted to tell you in person instead of over the phone or through a screen. I hope that's okay-"

Benedict cut her off with a searing kiss, an automatic assurance that her decision to hold off from telling him until they were face to face was very much appreciated.

"Of course that's okay." he verbally iterated when he managed to pull himself away from kissing her. "If you had told me over the phone I'd have left the tour without a word of notice to fly home immediately just so I could hug and kiss you. Nothing else would have mattered to me than seeing you and celebrating the baby we've made."

"I guess it's a relief I waited then, for the sake of the fans."

"And for my sake as well, to avoid Daphne throttling me for abandoning the band in the middle of a sold-out tour." he (somewhat) joked.

"Oh well we couldn't have that then, could we?" Sophie giggled and kissed him.

Benedict kissed back, wrapping his arms around his wife and cherishing this very moment for all the joy it brought to his heart. "I love you, Soph." he professed once more against her lips. "I didn't think I could be any happier coming home to you and yet you never cease to amaze me."

He continued to express his overwhelming joy by peppering her with kisses until his lips were sore and he rested his head against hers, professing his unconditional love for her and their baby before they both acknowledged just how spent they were and sunk back down under the covers to rest. Sophie turned over so he could hold her back against his chest and then he rested his hands over her abdomen where he could feel the smallest hint of a bump. With the biggest smile on his face, Benedict pressed one last kiss against Sophie's shoulder, professed his love for her yet again and settled comfortably into the embrace before dreaming the sweetest dreams of the joy-filled future that lay ahead of them.

#benophie drabble #bridgerton brothers au #benophie #benedict x sophie

16 notes · View notes

funemployed-fangirl · 5 months ago

Text

Modern AU Benedict x Sophie

The First Meeting

Halloween 2010

The club was alive with energy, a whirlwind of flashing lights and rhythmic beats that reverberated through every inch of space. But Benedict found himself sitting alone on the outskirts of the action, nursing his drink, and trying to remind himself that fratricide was bad. He’d been perfectly happy to spend Halloween alone. But no. Colin had shown up out of nowhere - he’d been in Argentina (or maybe it had been Greece?) - and insisted they go out.

Colin had abandoned him almost immediately upon getting to the club. Benedict had spotted his brother’s head in the crush of costumed dancers not long ago, confirming at the very least that his brother was still alive, though Benedict could only guess at his state of intoxication He’d run into Anthony at one point, only for that brother to abandon him as well. Something about spotting a Rockette he said he knew. Unclear if he had meant an actual Rockette or a girl in a Rockette costume. Either way, that had been 10 minutes ago, and he knew Anthony well enough to know he probably wouldn’t be seen again tonight.

Benedict sighed as he looked at his watch. 11:00 was early by Upper East Side party standards, but hopefully just late enough that he could sneak out without anyone (fucking Colin) noticing. He looked up from his watch, scanning the throng of the dance floor as he contemplated an escape route, when a woman standing near the bar caught his gaze.

She was standing apart from the rest of the masses at the bar. Her dress - simple in comparison to the over-the-top costumes around her - shimmered under the strobe lights, each movement sending ripples of light cascading around her. She held a drink delicately, her fingers tapping the cup to the rhythm of the music as she observed the party raging in front of her. Their eyes met, and for a moment, everything else faded. The crowd, the music, the dizzying lights - it all became a distant blur. He felt a rush of adrenaline, his heart pounding not just from the music but from the electricity of that shared glance. Suddenly, Benedict found he very much needed another drink. He began weaving his way through the sea of dancers, each step bringing him closer to the woman who had captured his attention from across the room.

“Hi.” Benedict said - well, practically yelled given the decibel level the music was playing at.

She smiled at him, and shouted back her own, “Hi.”

“I know this is forward,” Benedict said, leaning closer to be heard over the music, “but can I buy you a drink?”

She looked down at her nearly empty cup, then back up at Benedict, seeming to contemplate if she thought letting him buy her a drink was a good idea. Before he could jump in and say…well anything, she said, “Sure!”

“Fabulous!” Benedict flagged down the bartender. “What are you having?”

“Manhattan!”

Benedict ordered their drinks - a Manhattan for her, a whiskey for him - and they settled into a comfortable silence while waiting for their drinks - holding a conversation was practically impossible anyway. He took the opportunity to study her delicate features, illuminated by the strobing lights.

Finally, the bartender set their drinks in front of them. As they collected their drinks, Benedict leaned closer to ask, “Do you want to move somewhere quieter?” She nodded and motioned for Benedict to lead the way. Placing his hand on her lower back, he led her around the perimeter of the dance floor toward a back corner of the club, the music volume dropping quickly the further they moved from the center of the activity.

“Oh, this is so much better! I can actually hear myself think now!” She exclaimed as she dropped onto the open couch. Benedict took the seat next to her, smiling at her obvious relief. The couch was upholstered in plush, dark leather, and tucked away in a dimly lit alcove, offering a semblance of privacy amidst the party’s lively atmosphere. Benedict leaned back, feeling the tension of the loud, crowded space dissipate. Here, in this cozy corner, he could have the uninterrupted conversation with this mystery woman he was craving.

“I’m Benedict, by the way.”

As he awaited her response, he noticed a subtle hesitation in her demeanor, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. She returned his smile, albeit somewhat tentatively, but made no move to reciprocate the introduction. Benedict felt a twinge of curiosity mixed with intrigue. Who was this mystery woman, and what had brought her here tonight?

Rather than respond, she took a sip of her drink as she appraised Benedict. Gesturing to his outfit she asked, “What are you supposed to be, anyway?”

Benedict looked down at his “costume”. Francesca had given him a Harvard t-shirt as a gag gift a few years ago, which he’d promptly thrown in the back of his closet and forgotten about. But when Colin informed him that not only was he dragging him to a Halloween party, but that costumes were not optional, he’d gone looking for the easiest thing he could throw together. Hence this evening’s Harvard t-shirt and jeans ensemble.

He looked back at her and stated as straight-faced as he could, “I’m a Harvard alum.”

She cocked her head to the side and gave him a calculating look, then briefly looked around the room as if surveying the other partygoers for comparison. "Hmm. Not the most inventive, is it?”

“Ah! But that’s the genius of it. I went to Yale.” Benedict winked playfully. She just stared at him for a second before bursting into laughter. Benedict regarded her while she laughed, and found himself not caring that she was laughing at his expense. Even in the dim club lights he could tell that her eyes sparkled when she did.

“Did you come up with that just so you’d have an excuse to impress the ladies by telling them you went to Yale?” She asked once she had, mostly, stopped laughing.

“Is it working?”

Her chuckles continued. “It might have, if we weren’t surrounded by Ivy League degrees. Besides, Yale? What, you couldn’t get into Princeton?”

Benedict tried to look affronted at the insult. “Now that is a low blow!” His tone was serious, but the smile quickly spreading on his face gave away the lack of offense. “Enough mocking of my costume choices. What are you supposed to be?”

She gestured to her own outfit—a sleek, black dress with a faint shimmer paired with a set of elegant - yet fake - fangs, a black wig, and a delicate choker with a small, ornate cross. “Can’t you tell?” she asked, her tone playfully mysterious.

Benedict squinted in mock concentration, making an exaggerated show of studying her ensemble. “A very stylish...vampire?”

“Exactly!”

Benedict nodded appreciatively. “Well, you’ve certainly nailed the ‘stylish’ part. I feel underdressed in comparison.”

“Don’t worry,” she said with a smile. “Your witty backstory makes up for it. It’s not every day you meet a Yale man in a Harvard shirt.” They both laughed.

“So,” she continued, her tone more serious now, “What’s a Yale alum like you doing at a party like this? Shouldn’t you be at some exclusive alumni gathering or something?”

Benedict shrugged, his expression turning thoughtful. “Honestly? My brother dragged me here. Thought it’d be good to get out and socialize a bit. And you?”

“Bit of a crazy story, actually. I met a guy in the elevator of my building earlier today. Never seen him before. And out of the blue as I was getting off, he invited me to this.”

Benedict felt an odd twist in his stomach at the idea of her and another guy. Not wanting to examine that unfamiliar feeling further, he took a long swallow of his drink, taking comfort in the familiar burn of the whiskey. Luckily for him, she didn’t notice his pause and picked up the conversation. "What about you?" she asked, "Do you frequent the party scene?"

Benedict shook his head, a wry grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "I did. But not so much, anymore," he admitted, his eyes lingering on her face.

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? You seem so comfortable here. So then tell me, Benedict, what do you usually do for fun?"

Benedict shrugged, leaning back against the couch. "I’m more of a low-key kind of guy. I enjoy quiet evenings, maybe a good book.” He paused. “I sketch sometimes." Benedict didn’t know what possessed him to tell her that. His family didn’t even know that he had taken up sketching. Hell, no one knew that.

She smiled, her eyes lighting up. "You sketch? That’s awesome! I’ve never been very good at anything artistic. Do you sketch anything in particular?”

Benedict shrugged. "No. Nothing in particular, really. I haven’t been doing it long, so my sketchbooks are all full of a pretty random assortment of drawings.”

“I think I’d like to see them someday.”

Benedict felt his earlier discomfort fading at her genuine interest in his secret hobby. “I think I’d like to show you someday.” Their eyes locked, and the noise of the club faded into the background. They both seemed to keep moving closer to one another, as if drawn by that pull Benedict had been feeling since he first saw her.

Then out of nowhere…

“BENEDICT!” Colinin in all of his pirate costumed glory flung himself down on the other side of Benedict, clearly much drunker than the last time Benedict had seen him. “And Benedict’s friend!”

Benedict sighed. “This…” He stopped. Fuck, he still hadn’t gotten her name. He had been enjoying himself so much, he’d completely forgotten that she’d never actually introduced herself.

But Colin, completely unphased by Benedict’s sudden silence, jumped in. “I’m Colin, Benedict’s brother.” Squinting at her, he added, “You look familiar. Do I know you?”

“Kind of,” she responded, with a laugh. “We met earlier today. In the elevator? I think you were heading to a friend’s.” She looked at Benedict and clarified, “Your brother was the one who invited me.”

“RIGHT!” Exclaimed Colin, right in Benedict’s ear. God his brother was annoying when drunk. “You’re the girl from Penelope’s building! I remember now. I’m glad you came out! How…”

Benedict smacked the back of Colin’s head before he could continue, having decided it was the quickest way to get him to leave. “OW! Was that necessary, asshole?”

Benedict glared at Colin, “It was.”

Colin looked between them, a knowing smirk growing on his face before he said, “Well, it was lovely to meet you. But I think I’ll leave you two alone before Benedict here decides to revert to even more physical violence.” With that, Colin hopped up from his spot and left them blissfully alone in their quiet corner.

“I like your brother.”

Benedict rolled his eyes. “That’s because you don’t know him. Trust me. 24 years on this Earth with him, and I can definitively say there is little to recommend him.”

“Oh come on,” she replied. “You don’t really think that.”

“Okay, no. I don’t. He has his moments. Few and far between, but they're there.” Benedict smiled slightly, shaking his head. “Just don't tell him I said that."

Their conversation continued to flow effortlessly, time slipping by unnoticed, the music becoming a mere backdrop. After what could have been hours or mere minutes, the mystery woman who had so completely captivated Benedict leaned closer, her hand resting on his arm. "You know," she said softly, "I'm really glad I came out tonight.”

Benedict couldn't ignore the pull any longer. As the party continued to rage around them, he reached for her hand, his thumb tracing circles on her skin. She looked up at him, curiosity and something else - something hopeful - shining in her eyes. "I'd really like to kiss you," he confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. Without waiting for her response, he cupped her face in his hands, feeling her breath hitch. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers, the world around them dissolving into a blur. Her lips were soft and warm, and as she kissed him back, he knew this could be the beginning of something incredible.

Benedict pulled back, just enough to ask, “Do you want to get out of here? My apartment is’t far.” She opened her mouth to respond, only to shut it again, looking like she was at war with herself about what she wanted to do. He continued staring at her, willing her to say yes. To want to be with him just as much as he wanted to be with her. Her silence was killing him.

Then out of nowhere…

“COLIN! COLIN! COLIN!”

Now he really was going to kill Colin. A room full of drunk Upper East Side 20 somethings chanting his brother’s name was never a good sign, and someone needed to go make sure the building wasn’t about to implode. Benedict closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh as he dropped his forehead to hers. Shaking his head, he kissed her again before straightening, “I’m so sorry. I’m going to go see what’s happening. I swear I’ll be right back. Just…stay here.” She nodded slightly, and Benedict dropped his hands from her face and headed toward the bar…which his brother was currently standing on.

“Colin, what the actual fuck are you doing? And why are you standing on the bar?”

Colin grinned down at him, clearly enjoying the attention he was drawing. "I was making a toast!"

Benedict just glared at him.

Jumping down from the table - and landing with a surprising amount of grace given his very inebriated state, Colin said, "Oh, it’s fine Benedict.” Glancing over toward where Benedict had been sitting, he added, “And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your moment." He patted Benedict’s shoulder before staggering off towards another group of friends.

Shaking his head, Benedict turned back to his mystery woman - who hopefully wouldn’t remain a mystery much longer. His heart pounded with the anticipation of picking up where they'd left off. But as he approached, his stomach clenched, knowing something was wrong before his brain could catch up.

She was gone.

And he’d never gotten her name.

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

2012

“I’m Benedict, by the way.”

He couldn't believe how this night had gone. Expecting a fairly normal evening getting drinks with a few friends, he’d then left the bar only to chase off two finance bros from roughing up the girl they targeted, who had turned out to be her. His mystery woman from that Halloween party two years ago. The one he’d been thinking about for two years. The one he’d been torturing himself over for not getting her name. It had taken him a minute to recognize her, but those blue eyes of hers gave it away. And now here they both were. A few feet from the bar, in the rain, with her in his arms due to her twisted ankle.

“I’m Sophie.” A grin spread across Benedict’s face. The name fit her.

“Nice to meet you Sophie. Let’s get the hell out of this rain.” And with that, he hurried down the block and around the corner, toward his apartment. He slowed in front of his building. “Will you be ok if I put you down?” he panted (they did not teach you how to carry people in the rain at Yale), and Sophie nodded. He resumed their original position, with his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side, and they approached the entrance. The elderly doorman, who Benedict was pretty sure had been around since the building was built, held open the door.

“Good evening Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Hey George,” Benedict called. “My friend twisted her ankle,” he explained, as the doorman surveyed the sight before him. It was fine. George had seen worse. And likely from Benedict’s own siblings. He did ask if they needed a first aid kit or a doctor, but Benedict waved him off with a thank you and friendly smile. They rode the elevator in silence to the 12th floor, and once there, Benedict led a hobbling Sophie to his front door. He unlocked the door and swung it open, announcing proudly, “Welcome to My Apartment!”

Benedict quickly hung his drenched coat in the closet before hurrying back over to Sophie. “Here,” he said, “let’s get you on the couch.” He assisted her into his living room and helped her get settled on the couch, propping her ankle up on several pillows and wrapping one of the blankets his mother had insisted he needed around her. He rushed off and returned with a large ice pack and an even larger bottle of Advil. This was not, afterall, his first go-round with twisted ankles.

“I’m impressed you have Advil,” Sophie said. “Most guys don’t have anything in their medicine cabinet besides hair gel.”

Benedict chuckled. “I have younger siblings who have been known to crash here once or twice after an ill-advised high school party. I figure it’s the least I can do to provide coffee and painkillers when they wake up.” He paused, thinking of the photos he had on his phone of Gregory from just last week, before adding, “Especially since I do take photos of them and use it for blackmail with our mother later.” Maybe not the most responsible thing to admit, but it was the truth.

Benedict perched on an ottoman in front of the couch, “How’s your ankle?” He watched as Sophie shifted it under the ice pack and grimaced slightly. “Still hurts, but being off of it is definitely helping.”

“Good, good,” Benedict said. “Do you need anything else?” He was sure she must be uncomfortable in those wet clothes, especially those wet jeans, and yet she responded with, “No, I’m fine. I’m sorry I’m getting your couch all wet.”

“Don’t even worry about it. Although I’m sure you're uncomfortable. Do you want me to get you some dry clothes? A shirt, some sweatpants? They’ll be too big on you, obviously, but…” Benedict thought he saw a look of panic cross Sophie’s face before she responded, “No, God, I’m fine, really.”

“Then how about something to warm you up,” Benedict offered. “Do you want some tea? I’m going to get you some tea.” And before Sophie could accept or refuse, he leapt up and escaped to the kitchen. He grabbed the kettle and filled it with water before setting it on the stove, then reached into the cabinet to grab two mugs, chuckling to himself when he saw that one of the ones he grabbed was his “World’s Okayest Brother” mug from Eloise. After popping tea bags in each mug, Benedict decided to change out of his own wet clothes.

Moving further into the apartment, Benedict couldn't help the disappointment that welled up inside him. Did Sophie not recognize him? He had spent the last two years thinking about that night - thinking about her, about that kiss - and she didn’t remember him. It felt like a gut punch. At the same time, there was a small part of him that was frustrated. He wanted to be able to ask her why she’d left so abruptly that night. What she had just…disappeared. And if she didn’t remember him, he wouldn’t get that chance.

Benedict quickly swapped his dress pants and oxford for a much more comfortable pair of dark blue sweatpants and a long sleeved gray t-shirt, before pausing at his dresser. Unsure what possessed him, Benedict opened the small wooden box he kept there, pulling out the necklace inside. It was the one Sophie had been wearing that night two years ago. It must have fallen off at some point, because it was the only thing he’d found when he’d gone back to that secluded corner only to find her gone.

Hearing the kettle begin to whistle, Benedict put the necklace back and headed to the kitchen. As he poured water into each mug he made his decision - he had to tell Sophie he recognized her. He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t. If he didn’t take the opportunity to ask what happened that night. But he was going to need a drink. He did not want to be without alcohol if she really did not remember who he was. And since it would only be polite to offer something to Sophie, Benedict poked his head through the doorway to the living room and asked, “Do you possibly want anything… stronger… in your tea?”

It was all over Sophie’s face that she was fighting with herself about what to do - Benedict remembered the look well - and couldn’t tell which side was winning. They stared at each other for a moment, a strange battle of wills occurring. He raised his eyebrows. She gave in, “Yes, actually. That sounds great.”

“Right you are!” Benedict said happily. “Two hot toddies coming right up!” Thank God, he thought to himself as he grabbed the whiskey bottle and added generous portions to each mug.

Benedict brough the mugs into the living room, smiling to himself when Sophie laughed at his “World Okyest Brother” mug. As he handed a mug to Sophie and settled back onto the ottoman, he was struck by how right it felt to have her in his apartment.

Benedict noticed her phone sitting on top of the blanket. “I’ve got chargers in the side table if you need one. And the wifi password is NY152. Network’s My Apartment.”

“Your wifi network is ‘My Apartment’?” Sophie asked incredulously.

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s my apartment.” Benedict winked playfully, and Sophie rolled her eyes and laughed at him, the sound so familiar to him it almost hurt.

He surveyed her over his mug before leaning back slightly. He quirked an eyebrow and said, “You know, we’ve met before. You thought I didn’t recognize you, didn’t you?” He watched as Sopie seemed to freeze. He smiled self-deprecatingly, “Admittedly, I didn’t recognize you at first. I was a little too busy trying to rough up two prissy FiDi bros. But the moment I actually took a good look at you…” he grew more serious. “How could I not recognize you?” He placed his mug on the table and leaned toward Sophie, who he noted still had yet to speak. “You recognized me, right?” His tone was joking, but the concern was real.

He watched as Sophie took a deep gulp of the tea and said “Yes, Benedict Bridgerton, I recognized you.” A smile spread across Sophie’s face, just as Benedict felt a huge smile spread across his own. The relief was almost overwhelming. He knew there were things he needed to ask her…but that could wait.

Benedict leaned in further. “I still think about that night. That was the most fun I’d had out in years. Do you ever think about it?” His gaze flickered down to her lips, praying to whoever might be listening she’d say Yes. Quietly, she admitted, “I still think about that night.” He reached over and gently took her mug from her hands, placing it on the coffee table next to his. He leaned forward, closing the gap between them.

“Good.”

Want more Benedict & Sophie? Read The Second Meeting HERE or check out more of our Modern Bridgerton AU HERE.

#in honor of the season 4 announcement #have a little drabble i wrote a while back #bridgerton #modern bridgerton au #benophie #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benedict x sophie #drabble #fanfic #mine #maa

12 notes · View notes

hopepaigeturner · 4 months ago

Text

So I got an AU stuck in my head...

Inspired by @orangepeelshortbreadcookies; BRILLIANT Villainous Viscount AU (read on AO3 here). So all creds go to her!

And while she has done a beautiful fic about Benophie in this universe, Thieves of Dusk (10% RECOMMEND A READ. Read on AO3 here). But we’ve been chatting about my own ideas for Benophie. So, with her blessing here’s my version...

Unlike @orangepeelshortbreadcookies' version, the Bridgertons never buy themselves a title, they remain the kingpin family of London. Anthony at the helm having spent the last decade building an empire spanning multiple gambling halls, clubs, black market auctions and trade alongside an underground boxing exhibition series. And that does not cover the other more hidden enterprises that Anthony has, through the years, built. An entangled spider web entangling individuals from street urchins to the highest of Lords.

And as the second in command with quick fingers and his charming smile, Benedict is the main manager of most establishments. Colin might herald the boxing rings but Benedict is the one prowling the shop floor. Not to mention Benedict being a constant shadow for Anthony when they embark on more… nefarious ventures.

Benedict loves the adrenalin of midnight capers, the complex game of the black market. He has immense pride at how the Bridgerton family turned their lives around with blood, grit and grime so has no qualm palming money off toffs who have never picked up anything heavier than a pen in their life.

He loves his life…but still. Some nights, when waiting for Anthony outside a room where he is having one of his business dealings, or when he looks around the gambling shop floor at the same faces, he’ll look up at the moon and wish for a simpler life where he didn’t have to look over his shoulder or that he didn’t have to be second. To have the freedom he enjoys on the afternoons and nights he breaks into the Royal Academy to sketch or paint. To have the silence and peace rather than the carousing commotion of the city.

But he cannot leave, he cannot abandon Anthony, he cannot forsake his brother who has taken so much burden and blood on his hands—even if he’s never been the one to make the killing blow. Benedict has always been the one washing his hands.

And then one night he walks across the floor of the club and he spots her. She is sat at a table in a dishevelled silver dress wearing a matching demi-mask that does nothing to mask her beauty. In front of her is a steadily growing pile of chips in front of her.

A fizzing sensation ripples through him, a sensation he'd tucked away on the day they found their father dead. And in that moment, his entire life changes…

And that's just beginning...

Read Part 2 Here

#hope's drabbles #evil Bridgertons AU #you wanna hear more?#benophie #drabble #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #villainous viscount #morally grey characters #we love them

6 notes · View notes

apinchofm · 9 months ago

Note

19. Benedict and sophie. I mean, he is an artist....

“The paint’s supposed to go where?”

Sophie was confused by her husband's idea for a new piece. She was flattered whenever he wanted her as the subject of his work. But she had her limits and covered head to toe in pain was not ideal.

"It's body paint." Benedict explained, "Completely safe for your beautiful skin."

"It's a risk of thrush, honey." Sophie corrected, "Use that vivid imagination of yours and come up with something else." With that, she turned around and walked out of the room.

"Oh, I always use my imagination vividly when it comes to you!" Benedict called out after her.

#benophie #drabble #m's fluffy nights

7 notes · View notes

sophiebaek · 1 year ago

Text

Motion

The odds of meeting one specific person in your life is a 0.001 chance – out of all of the train routes and all of the cabins Sophie was in the same one as him.

#omg she posted here #trying to get back into this blog #fun fact that's Luke's chest lol #belle writes stuff #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benophie #bridgerton drabble

16 notes · View notes

fayes-fics · 2 years ago

Text

Benedict: Regency Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist | Benedict: Modern | Anthony: Regency | Anthony: Modern

Updated November 14, 2024 Listed in ascending order of completion. All x reader unless specified otherwise

❦ smut | ✿ fluff/humour | ❥ angst | ⚣ threesome

Moments ❥ ✿ ❦ main story complete, occasional one-shots ongoing

Portrait ✿ ❦

Innocence ❦

Double Bind ❦ ❥

Lessons ❦ ⚣

Kinktober 2022 Drabbles ❦

March 2023 Drabbles ✿ ❦

Kinktober 2023 Drabbles ❦

One-word Drabble Challenge ✿ ❦

One Word Challenge Blurbs ✿ ❥ ❦

Kinktober 2024 Drabbles ❦

Nov 2024 MicroFics ✿ ❦

Sonnet #29 ❦

Tell me (all the ways you missed me) ❦

Must we? ✿

I’m not drunk ✿

Fireworks ✿

No Good Advice ❦ ❥

Acting Up ❦

Lightening & Lilies ❦

Beg ❦

Hormones ✿

Swallow ❦

A Treat ❦ ✿

Mine ❦

Insatiable ❦ ✿

Challenge ❦

Breaking and Fixing ✿

Stitches ✿

A Work of Art ❦

Consequences ❦

Temptation ❦

Goodbye, Hello ❥ ✿

Safe ❥ ✿

Inspiration ❦

Blissful ❦ ✿

(Mis)behave ✿

Confessions ❥ ✿

A Birthday Treat ❦ ✿

Comfortable ❦

Riding Tandem ✿

A Close Shave ❦ ✿

Happy Birthday, Mr Bridgerton ❦ ✿

The Things We Do For Love ❥ ❦ ⚣

A Closer Shave [Fic Remix] ❦ ✿

Bella Notte ❦

Target Practice ✿

Cravats ❦

(Be)Longing ❥ ✿

A Change of Circumstance ✿

Cat-Nip ✿

Our Cottage ✿

Second Son ❥ ✿

And One For Luck ❦

Canvas ❦

Stand & Deliver ❦

A Cure for Boredom ❦

Comfort ✿

Enthralled ❦

Refuge ✿

A Welcome Intrusion ✿

Ruler & Subject ❦

Reunited ❦

Reprisal ❦

What The True Poet Describes ✿

Vignette ✿

Eden ❦

To Know You ✿

Mirror, Mirror ❦

Absolution ❦

Wisteria ✿

NSFW Alphabet for Benedict Bridgerton ❦

The Secrets We Keep: Pt I ❥ ✿

The Secrets We Keep: Pt II ❥ ✿ ❦

An Artful Arrangement ❦ ⚣

Ripe, Like Fruit ❦

Bridgerton Blue ✿

Benedict Bridgerton x OC Female Character:

Enthralled [x OC version] ❦

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett:

Breaking and Fixing [Benophie remix] ✿

Our Cottage [Benophie remix] ✿

Hormones [Benophie remix] ✿

Comfort [Benophie remix] ✿

Insatiable [Benophie Remix] ❦

Dividers @/firefly-graphics

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton x you #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton smut #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton angst #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #fic masterpost #fic masterlist #masterlist

1K notes · View notes

tilly-tilly-2827 · 7 months ago

Text

Interventions & Interventions

Reimagining An Offer from a Gentleman #7

Synopsis: A year ago, Sophie would have scoffed if someone had told her that she would be married to Benedict Bridgerton. A year ago, if someone had told her that she would be welcoming a child, Sophie would have thrown herself off a cliff. But now, she doesn’t have to be afraid of anything. The love of her life is right by her side. Everything was going well, wasn’t it? Or, the little drabble of Benophies going through the early days of Sophie’s pregnancy.

AO3 post from here!

The half-read novel forgotten on her lap, Sophie couldn’t help leaping up from the window-side chaise as she finally saw the carriage coming up the road. Yes, she had been staring through the window for about an hour, Benedict had told her in his letters from London that he would be home before noon. Although it puzzled her that not one, but two carriages stopped in front of the gate, she found herself rushing to the door, despite Mrs. Crabtree’s yelps. “Mrs. Bridgerton, Mrs. Radcliff told you complete bed rest was required…”

“Terrorizing Mrs. Crabtree again, my love?”

“Benedict!”

And Sophie was in the warm arms of her adoring husband once again, the familiar smell of sandalwood and soap filling up the emptiness that had plagued her during his absence. Feeling a soft kiss on her forehead, Sophie snuggled on his chest adoringly, his turquoise cravat tickling the edge of her nose.

“I missed you,”

“But I missed you more,”

Looking up to his evergreen eyes, Benedict kissed her lips softly, his hands cupping her cheeks. Sophie diligently opened her lips, feeling him tickling the corner of her mouth, and just as her hands moved to the back of his neck to kiss him more, tasting the sweetness of his lips, the two heard a rather loud cough from the sitting room.

“Ah! Mrs. Crabtree! Delightful to see you again as well!”

Benedict's voice was rather high-pitched as he expertly positioned Sophie in front of him. Sophie blushed, noticing that Benedict was subtly concealing a slight bulge in his trousers that had begun to appear.

“Welcome home, Mr. Bridgerton.” Mrs. Crabtree bobbed a little curtsy, “Should I get the tea ready for you? Mrs. Bridgerton should be back on her rest…”

“Thank you, Mrs. Crabtree,” Benedict replied as Sophie deepened her blush, feeling Benedict’s hands softly caress her behind, “But I’m afraid there is an urgent errand for me upstairs…”

But Benedict’s words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Mr. Bridgerton? May we come in?”

Mrs.Crabtree saw Benedict’s eyes light up, almost like a little child on a Christmas morning.

“Oh, sorry to keep you waiting, gentlemen! Come in, come in!”

“Sophie, you are going to love this,” Benedict whispered to her excitedly as he opened the door. Sophie’s mouth hung open as she saw five men standing; the two holding a wooden cradle frame, one holding a white mattress and a roll of beautiful botanical wallpaper. One had a handsome rocking horse in his arms, trimmed with rich, white manes. The last man was quite sweating, overwhelmed by the size and the weight of the splendid chest he barely managed to hold.

“There is more,” Benedict was grinning ear to ear as he pointed to the carriage outside, “Please, please come on up gentlemen. Upstairs, the room to the right, with the flower craving on the door. And would you carry the boxes in the sitting room?”

Sophie and Mrs. Crabtree could only stand there gaping, as the men carried mountains of furniture, toys, socks, and blankets to the nursery. Sophie was beginning to feel pain in her head as she saw colorful boxes being carried from the second coach, presumably bonnets, scarves, and dresses he had bought from Madam Delacroix.

Sophie loved her husband, she truly did from the depth of her heart. But as she began the blissful marriage with Benedict Bridgerton, the utter differences in perception of money became her constant anxiety. With most of her life in service, it was difficult to understand how Benedict splurged on extravagance and wealth, spending his money as if he had abysmal wealth. Or at least, in her eyes. In his eyes, it was never “splurge” or “extravagance”; he would call it “necessary expenses”. He wholeheartedly felt that way, and Sophie knew Benedict would never be considered a spendthrift inside the ton. But why would Benedict need a new waistcoat when he had 46 in the closet? Half a year ago, she had struggled to buy a new pair of gloves, even though she needed them desperately. Now, Benedict would buy her a diamond necklace if she had even looked at it for more than five seconds. (Sophie had to beg him not to, Daphne looking at Sophie with a puzzled look as Sophie desperately tugged his arms away from the jewelry shop. It had been their first mild argument as a married couple.)

Sophie had hesitantly shared her thoughts about his financial tendencies, and Benedict immediately went down on his knees and apologized, promising he would be more careful. But, his reason or sanity tended to fly out of the window when it came to his child. His baby.

Sophie knew how much the baby meant for him. His elder brother was already blessed with two sons. Daphne already had four children of her own, and Colin had just welcomed the adorable Agatha just a year ago. How Benedict gently cradled his niece in his arms with adoring eyes, Sophie knew that even before she could even imagine he would be her husband, he was going to be a wonderful father.

Benedict had burst into tears of joy when Sophie had timidly told him of her pregnancy, sobbing in her arms for a solid hour. Sophie had softly run her fingers through his curls as Benedict sniffed his nose and promised her he would be there for her every step.

Benedict Bridgerton faithfully kept his word. In every session with Dr. White, he was with her, his hand on hers. He rubbed her back as she reversed every bit of substance in her stomach in a chamber pot, running around the house for a napkin and a glass of water. He would fill the kitchen cupboards with pears and green apples; he even ditched on chicken and beef from the house when he learned that the burning smell was leaving her in torture. He would massage her terribly swollen toes, and Sophie would doze off on the couch in his studio, and Benedict would sketch her, gently waking her up only when Mrs. Crabtree called the two for supper. Benedict was in her every step; in her walks, study, meals, bed, and even baths. Truly, the most considerate husband she could ever wish for. Wasn’t he?

Thus, Sophie felt rather guilty when she felt relief receiving a letter from Sir Henry Granville, asking Benedict to come to London. Lord Wellington had seen his work in the summer exhibition at the Royal Academy and had asked Sir Granville if he could meet the young artist in person.

“Oh, Benedict, how splendid!” Wapping her arms around his neck, Sophie pestered him with kisses, “You once told me Lord Wellington is a patron to many artists! Oh, Benedict, he sees the potential in you,”

“I’m not going.”

“… Whatever do you mean?”

Benedict gently led her to the chaise, making her take a seat. Kneeling himself on the floor, Benedict softly placed his hands on the baby bump that had begun to show several months ago. A gentle roundness on her belly. They both smiled when they felt the baby give a small kick; it was no longer a flutter but a gentle nudge, almost as if the baby was stretching his legs to meet his father.

“My love, I’ll be fine on my own.”

“But I promised that I’ll be by your side in every step,”

Sophie took his hand, placing a small kiss on his fingertips.

“You have already done so much for me, love.”

“But”

“And the baby wouldn’t come out for months, Benedict. You heard Doctor White tell us several months ago that I’m stable now.”

“Sophie,”

“Go to London. Benedict. For me.” Sophie gently caressed his soft brown curls. “I know how much you wished for this,”

Benedict buried his face in her knees, his hands still firmly placed on the bump. Sophie continued to stroke his curls, her fingertips tickling the edge of his ears.

“Two days, Sophie. I’ll be back in two days.”

“Your letters said three weeks, Ben.”

“Three days, then.”

“Benedict, the baby isn’t going to disappear or fly away! I’m planning to keep a close watch,”

“Aren’t you going to miss me, dear wife?”

Sophie averted her gaze, blushing, as Benedict looked up at her with a slight tease. Taking a deep breath, Sophie gently tugged his shirt by the collar and lightly placed her lips on his.

“A week then,” She murmured against his lips, “Can’t let the baby forget Papa’s voice,”

“A week it is,” Benedict replied with a deeper kiss. “And did you just call me Papa?”

Sophie ignored his question, moving her focus to undoing Benedict’s buttons. But when she finished the last one, Sophie cupped his face between her hands, staring firmly into his charming eyes.

“No gifts, Ben”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” and he gently flopped off Sophie’s hand-knitted slippers, moving his lips on her toes.

And Benedict had kept his word. After giving a pair of new boots to Mr.Crabtree and a bottle of rose water to Mrs. Crabtree, Benedict took Sophie’s hand, leading her to the nursery, already rambling on about the purchase he had made with his mother in London. However, Mrs. Crabtree swiftly intervened, saying that Sophie needed immediate rest.

“Why so, Mrs. Crabtree?” With a slight tilt, he asked, “She looks perfectly healthy to me,”

With a firm, yet motherly glare from Mrs. Crabtree, Sophie knew that she had to tell Benedict of the fever she had a few days earlier, and the village midwife had instructed her to stay in bed for a few weeks. Sophie could see the color draining from his face as she hastily rushed through the story.

“I never should have left,”

“Benedict, there is nothing to worry about. The fever broke out in a few days…”

“Few days?” Benedict arched his eyebrows. “Sophie, I know enough it’s not a good sign for the baby. Why aren’t you in bed?”

“Mrs. Bridgerton wanted to greet you as soon as possible,” Mrs. Crabtree added gently from the corner, seeing Sophie’s lips quiver. “Mr. Bridgerton, why don’t take Mrs. Bridgerton up to the bed? I’ll prepare a tea for two upstairs…”

“Why didn’t you write to me, Sophie? “ Benedict carried her up the stairs and tucked her under the covers despite Sophie’s weak protests. His tone was quiet, but Sophie noticed a touch of sadness, “I would have left London in a second,”

“It wasn’t so high of a fever, Benedict,” Sophie gave a soft sigh, Benedict putting an extra blanket on the covers, “I didn’t want to interrupt your work. You told me that you were meeting Lord Wellington on Wednesday,”

Kneeling himself on her bedside, Benedict took her hand, holding it tightly.

“Nothing is more important than the health of you and the baby, Sophie. Not even Lord Wellington or the bloody paintings,”

“Did Lord Wellington ask you for a landscape painting?”

Benedict’s eyes widened.

“How did you know? I was planning to surprise you,”

“Your eyes and tone convey more than you think,” Sophie smiled, placing a hand on his cheeks, “Congratulations Benedict. I couldn’t be more proud,”

But as Sophie pulled herself up for a kiss, Benedict quickly stood up, awkwardly moving to the foot of the bed.

“You need rest, Sophie,”

“Benedict, I’ve been resting for four days, and I remember you saying that I looked perfectly fine.”

“But,”

“Tell me about London,” Sophie said, smoothing out the silk covers, “I’ll be here in bed, resting, as Mrs. Radcliff had told me. Please talk to me, love. How was Sir Granville? What did Lord Wellington say about your paintings? ”

Benedict still looked concerned, his brows knitted into a worrisome frown.

“Aren’t you going to show me what you brought for the baby?”

Benedict burst out of the room in a second, and as Sophie laughed merrily, he was soon back with his arm full, placing the little blankets, wooden trinkets, and tiny knitted socks on the white covers. Sitting cross-legged on the covers, Benedict explained every purchase with so much enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling like spring meadows. As Sophie softly traced the botanical patterns on the wallpaper, Benedict told her that it was imported from Italy, hand-painted by a craftsman. He had also told her excitedly that the cradle was made with the same cherry tree as Miles’ and Edmund’s.

“I might have gone overboard,” Benedict chuckled to himself, scratching his head as he took a small pair of black shoes from the box. “But Mother seemed ecstatic about welcoming a new grandchild as well…”

“No, Benedict this is absolutely beautiful.” Sophie tried to keep her tone bright and cheerful, “Oh, Benedict, the baby isn’t born yet, and he’s already the happiest in the world…”

“What about you?”

“What?”

“Are you angry that I spent too much?”

“No, no, no.” Sophie stuttered, “It’s necessary expenses, Benedict. And I love every item you bought, truly…”

“Then what’s on your mind?” Benedict softly traced the outline of her face, “I’ll pay a grand for your thoughts.”

Sophie laughed, “My thoughts are worth less than a penny, Love.”

“Well, I beg to differ, but tell me,”

Sophie stared at her hangnail, the edge of her left middle finger slightly swollen. With her right hand, she wrapped her finger, feeling a sharp pain as she tightened her grip.

“I should be the one doing this,” Sophie sighed, not quite looking at his eyes, “Ordering the cradle, the blankets, the napkins, the bottles, everything. When you should be focusing on your paintings, Benedict. A few weeks ago, Mrs. Crabtree asked me if I wanted to go to the village to order, but I thought it would be too early…”

“Sophie,”

“And my mind didn’t even go to the nursery, Benedict! The decorations, the wallpaper, the toys, I couldn’t even think about the decorations. I’m already a terrible mother…”

“Breath, Sophie, breath.” Benedict softly moved up to the bed, he plopped himself next to his wife, resting his back on the headboard. “You’re not a terrible mother, Sophie.”

“But,”

“When I first went to Sir Granville’s, I didn’t even know how to set up the easel. I didn’t know where to buy the right paint, and it took years to notice that I was being overcharged.”

“Really?” A small smile crept up on Sophie’s lips, and Benedict felt a bit of relief; he knew that Sophie was on the verge of tears.

“Truly,” Benedict kissed her forehead, “Nobody starts as an expert, Sophie.”

“Yet you are already a perfect father,”

“I’m far from perfection, Sophie. I had siblings, to make me experienced and bestow me with their knowledge. All the things I bought from London? All Mother and Kate.”

“Benedict, are you telling me lies to make me feel better?”

“Is it working?”

With a crooked smile, he peered into his wife’s eyes, and Sophie giggled in response, resting her head on his broad shoulders.

“And you’ve already done a splendid job of raising the little one inside you! I can’t imagine how hard the change must be.” He continued, rubbing her belly affectionately. “Focus on the health of you and the baby, Sophie. Leave me to worry about everything else.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Sophie softly pinched his cheeks, playfully tugging his skin. “Sometimes I can not believe if you are even real,”

“It would be quite a tragedy if this was all a dream.” Benedict laughed, “I would willingly drink a bottle of poison to keep me in this wonderful dream,”

“But, Benedict.”

Ah, the Benedict in b flat.

“Mmm?”

“The dresses you bought from Madam Delacroix?”

“Oh, she already kept your measurements from the wedding…”

“I’m never going to fit in them, Benedict.”

Damm, Benedict cursed under his breath. He finally understood why Genevieve was so reluctant to sell them, and why she repeatedly kept asking for the new measurements. “I know my wife,” Benedict had told Geneville rather impatiently, “She was beautiful in my shirt and breeches, I’m sure she will look splendid any dress…”

"Don't worry about those dresses, love. We can always have Madam Delacroix adjust them as needed.”

“And pay another grand for just the adjustments?”

“… Necessary expenses?” Benedict suddenly felt the need to switch the topic, “Now why don't you get some rest while I start setting up these toys for our little one?"

Sophie knew his transparently obvious tactic, but with the comfortable warmth of her husband, and his tone filled with gentle reassurance, she found herself too tired to start an argument. With a soft smile, Sophie nodded, watching as Benedict started to fiddle with the wooden toys. As she drifted off to sleep against his shoulders, she could hear the soft hum of Benedict's voice, whispering promises and dreams to their unborn child.

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

Violet had been rather startled, receiving a letter from her second son, begging her to visit him and his wife at Wiltshire. Benedict had been in London just two weeks ago, dragging her to every street of London for baby supplies, and even Violet herself had been exhausted by all the shopping. The baby wasn’t due in a few months, but as she got to the end of the letter, telling her about Sophie’s declining health, she quickly packed her bags. It was a relief that Hyacinth was visiting her sister in Scotland, and Eloise had not even dropped a word of sarcasm as the two rushed into the carriage.

But Violet noticed that Benedict didn’t exactly tell her the truth when the two arrived at Wiltshire. As Benedict had written, Sophie did look rather feverish, her cheeks awfully crimson, and she was at least several stones thinner, despite the huge swell on her belly. She did not look well, but not as terrible as Benedict had explained in his letters. Sophie, although still in bed, had greeted the two with a smile, apologizing for how she wasn’t able to welcome them at the door.

“Do not worry, my dearest. I’m more worried about your weight, my dear, have you been eating enough?”

“I have been trying, but my stomach seems to be rejecting everything…,”

“I bought plums which saved Daphne from starvation, Sophie, and this oatmeal is said to be more nutritious than the regular ones…”

For a week, Violet diligently cared for Sophie, overseeing her meals with Mrs. Crabtree. Whether it was the oatmeal brought from London or the new jugs of milk from Mrs. Crabtree’s sister, they weren't sure, but Sophie seemed to be regaining her strength day by day. When Sophie's fever finally broke, Benedict, Eloise, Violet, Mrs. Crabtree, and Mr.Crabtree all breathed a sigh of relief. Dr. White also finally smiled with satisfaction, declaring that she could leave the bed.

Unlike Benedict, who had leaped from his chair and was beginning to pester Sophie with kisses despite Eloise’s eye roll, Violet noticed that the dark shade of worry and fear didn’t leave Sophie’s deep forest eyes with Dr. White’s words.

For another week, Violet had promised to stay in Wiltshire, to keep an eye on Sophie’s condition. Violet silently observed her second son flocking around his very pregnant wife every second, simultaneously preparing for the arrival of their baby, painting the nursery, assembling the crib, and even knitting tiny socks. Violet was quite amazed by the wall painting Benedict was working on in the nursery, a cherry blossom that spread across the wall, adding violets and hyacinths on its foot.

But what mildly concerned her was how Sophie never seemed to actively touch what Benedict had bought from London, or what Benedict had assembled or made for the baby. Yes, she would smile and giggle as Benedict playfully smudged the Castleon green paint on her cheeks and her rounded belly, and her constant worried gaze would soften as she looked at Benedict, reaching out his arms to tenderly stroke her roundness.

But when Violet surprised Sophie with the baby blanket she had done tulip embroideries on the hems, Sophie’s fingers were shaking, almost as if she were afraid of breaking the soft material. And at that moment, Violet finally understood why her loving son had desperately begged her to come to their newlywed home.

It was the last night of their stay in Wiltshire, their bags already packed and placed ready on the doorsteps for the carriage tomorrow morning. The two were alone in the drawing room, the fire cracking peacefully in the fireplace. The warm light was enough to see the small tremble on Sophie’s thin lips.

“This is beautiful, Violet. I don’t know how I could thank you for everything…” Despite her shaking hands, there was a smile plastered on Sophie’s face, her fingers carefully tracing the red petals.

“No need to thank me, Sophie.” Violet gently said, “I have done everyone for my grandchildren, and there is no reason to leave this little one out,”

Thank you, thank you, Violet saw Sophie mouth the words of gratitude several times.

“May I?”

“Oh yes, please,”

Gently stroking Sophie’s belly, Violet felt a warm flutter as she sensed a firm kick, remembering her first days of pregnancy, and the bright smile Edmund showed when he first felt the presence of a new life.

“So eager to meet his Mama,” Violet smiled as Sophie’s belly tumbled again. “As a former vessel to the Bridgertons, I am afraid to tell you that he might resemble his Papa more.”

For the first time Violet had seen her in weeks, Sophie laughed, a bright cracking laughter that vibrated merrily in the room.

“I believe so,” Sophie replied, gently caressing her roundness. “He is going to have Benedict’s curls and his nose,”

“But he will have your eyes, Sophie.”

Sophie smiled, imagining for the first time, the little bundle of joy cradled in her arms, the little version of her loving husband. Perhaps he would flutter his long eyelashes, dazed by the soft sunlight, or reach out his little hands to wrap his hand around her fingers. Or he might cry out a little, wailing for his mama,

“Do you think I will ever be able to meet him?”

“The baby?”

Sophie nodded, her eyes still placed on her belly.

“Oh don’t be silly, Sophie. Of course, you’ll meet your baby. In three months time my dear…”

“My mother never got to see me,”

Violet’s hands on the teacup froze.

“Or at least, that was what I was told.” Sophie’s tone was oddly flat, as if she were trying to repress any emotion, “That when I came out, there was too much blood and she had already passed away,”

“Oh, Sophie,”

“I’m not afraid of dying,” Sophie continued, smiling weakly, “I’ve already had such a blissful life,”

“Don’t say that Sophie, you are still two-and-twenty,”

“My Mother gave birth to me when she was much younger,”

Violet found herself at a loss of words. How lucky she was, to have given birth to eight children, and she knew she had been blessed by god for surviving each one. But she also knew many mothers left the world without ever feeling the warmth of their newborn child. Maria Beckett, whom Violet had never met, had been one of those mothers.

“I don’t fear leaving this world, Violet. Because I know for sure that Benedict would love and adore the baby no matter what. He would love the baby twice as much, for the amount that I wouldn’t be able to deliver,”

“Sophia,”

“And your son is the most charming man,” Sophie’s smile grew even bigger, but Violet saw the corner of her lips trembling, “Far, far, better a man than I should deserve. He would have no trouble finding a new mother for the baby, someone much more suitable than myself,”

“No, Sophia,” Shaking her head, Violet took Sophie’s trembling hands, firmly holding her hand in hers. Violet felt the roughness of her hands, the skin harder, coarser than any hand she had ever held. “I will tell you a million times how lucky my son is to have you as his wife, no matter how much you deny it.”

Sophie tried to raise the corner of her lips.

“Thank you, Lady Bridgerton,”

“Violet, Sophie.”

“Thank you, Violet.”

The two silently looked at the small fire in the fireplace, the flickers of sparks crackling in the darkness. Violet heard Sophie take a deep breath, almost as if she was letting down a big piece of luggage from her shoulders.

“But, what fears me the most,” Sophie continued slowly, but her voice was shaking, her breath was short and breathless, “Is if I can’t give Benedict his baby.”

“Oh, Sophie,”

“I still have three months to go, and I know that my body isn’t catching up,”

Tears were running down Sophie’s crimson cheeks, her shoulders shaking, her lips trembling. Violet gently took her daughter in her arms, rubbing the back of her delicate shoulders.

“Sophie,”

“And when the time comes, when he has to choose between me and the baby,” Sophie broke out into a sob, “I know that he’s going to choose me before the baby. After years and years of wanting a baby, after months and months of preparing, all his time, money, and effort wasted, ”

Her words were bearly audible between sobs and tears,

“I hear him, humming lullabies in his sleep, with so much love and anticipation. He’s already a father, mother, and it breaks my heart if I can’t give him what he wished for years, that I’m going to leave him devastated,”

I promise you and the baby will both be perfectly fine, those exact words almost slipped, but she stopped herself, knowing the gravity and the reality of Sophie’s fears. Violet noticed that she couldn’t find the right words for the poor girl who was crying and crying in her arms, the eight childbirths she had experienced weren’t enough, the depth of her fear, Violet noticed, was far deeper than she had imagined.

“Benedict had a swing set up in the gardens several weeks back. Violet, he was so happy and excited, saying that it was the same as the one he had in Bridgerton House.”

“Sophie, I am so sorry,”

“And I wanted to be happy, Lady Bridgerton. Tell Benedict that it would be lovely if the baby could share moments on the swings with his siblings, just like with Ms. Eloise. But I couldn’t say anything, because I’m so afraid that I’ll disappoint him so miserably,”

“Oh, I love him so, Lady Bridgerton.” Sophie sobbed in her arms, “And I’m so ashamed of myself that I can’t appreciate the love that he’s given me so much, I’m ashamed of myself that I’m so afraid of his love,”

From Violet’s eyes, Sophie had always been an honest, honorable young lady, with an innate sense of kindness. But Violet suddenly saw a little girl with blond curls and almond eyes, crying herself to sleep, shivering with fear and loneliness.

Violet knew Benedict always slept in a warm bed along with his brothers, and he never slept without a bedtime story and would beg her to cuddle him even when Violet had to leave to nurse Colin. For Violet, it had been one of the happiest moments of her life, gently stoking Benedict’s chubby cheeks, who looked so breathtakingly like his father, snoring happily as she left a soft kiss on his forehead.

But Sophie had no one to listen to her, even if she feared the monster under her bed. With no one to tuck her in bed, no one to tell her a bedtime story, no one to leave her with a goodnight kiss.

But suddenly she had someone who would listen to her every word. Who would delight in her beauty, who would honor her being in his deeds and words. Who would curl her in blankets and leave her with a sweet kiss. When she spent a lifetime alone and abused because of her mere existence.

Of course, she should feel afraid,

“There is nothing wrong about feeling afraid, Sophie,” Violet said calmly, gently stroking her blond curls as Sophie continued to weep in her arms, almost breathless from her tears. “There is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, my dearest.”

“Love can be difficult, my dear. Loving someone, you risk the hurt, the pain…the loss. Of course, you would feel afraid Sophie, because you are risking your body and soul to something that is far above your control. Fear is a quintessential part of love.”

“But perhaps,” Violet smiled, softly wiping the tears from her daughter’s cheeks. “you can trust Benedict a little more. Trust the love you have for one another. My son loves you dearly, and I love you dearly, with or without the baby. The two of you have already been through so much, and you both take so much care of the love you share. Those kinds of love grow and thrive, Sophie. It doesn’t wither after a fire. It doesn’t disappear after a storm. Because the love you two have, has strength to overcome them,”

“Allow yourself to have faith in your love, my dearest,”

“And you will be surprised how powerful it can be,”

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

“Eloise Bridgerton.”

Eloise froze for a brief second, the strict stern voice sending a sharp shiver down her spine. But seeing the floral vest and a teasing smirk in the corner of her eyes, she hastily returned the cigarette between her lips, feeling the nicotine deep in her veins.

“This swing is exactly the same as the one on Bridgerton House, isn’t it?”

“I had it made just several weeks ago,”

“So your daughters and sons can smoke behind their mother’s backs?”

Benedict scoffed, a wry smile on his face.

“Because,” He seated himself on the swing, gently rocking himself forward. “I thought my children could have chats like us,”

“Benedict, Sophie still has three months to deliver her baby. Isn’t it too early to be planning for more?”

“Please don’t tell Sophie,”

“You’ve already built a pair of swings, Benedict. And Sophie is one of the quickest women I have ever known,”

“Did I make a fool of myself again?”

“I believe you did.”

Benedict groaned, drilling his head into his knees. Eloise only laughed wholeheartedly, tapping his shoulder to offer him a cigarette, but she was quite surprised when he waved it off.

“You managed to quit?”

“Sophie doesn’t like the smell.”

“So perfect, aren’t you?”

But Eloise knew he was craving for one as his finger twitched. And as Eloise took another smoke, languorously blowing the Sidestream in Benedict’s face, he snatched the packet from her hands, lightening up a cigarette in practiced hands. Eloise crackled with laughter as Benedict gazed up at the sky in relief, his whole body relaxing with just one puff.

“Remind me to change before I go back,”

“Mmm.” Eloise only hummed in response.

The two smoked in silence, watching the shimmering stars in the night, and listening to the lonely tunes of the owls in the distance. Soon, the lonesome hoots were replaced by Benedict’s low hums, the nostalgic tune engraved in her childhood memories,

Lavender's blue, dilly, dilly, lavender's green,

When I am king, dilly, dilly, You shall be queen.

Who told you so, dilly, dilly, who told you so?

'Twas my own heart, dilly, dilly, that told me so.

Call up your men, dilly, dilly, set them to work

Some to the plough, dilly, dilly, some to the fork,

Some to make hay, dilly, dilly, some to cut corn,

While you and I, dilly, dilly, keep ourselves warm.

Lavender's green, dilly, dilly, Lavender's blue,

If you love me, dilly, dilly, I will love you.

Let the birds sing, dilly, dilly, And the lambs play;

We shall be safe, dilly, dilly, out of harm's way.

“So, happy, aren’t you?”

“Happier than ever, El.”

Eloise missed those quiet moments with Benedict. Truly. Eloise had told herself a million times that Benedict was happy with his new life in Wiltshire. That her brother didn’t miss his past life in London. That he’d rather protect life with his Sophie than to be in London close to his family. Throwing away the comfortable life in London. Throwing away their time together as siblings, throwing away their time on the swings, replacing her with new memories of Sophie and the baby. But Eloise knew deep in her heart that he would never have been happy if he had stayed in London. Without Sophie.

It was quite lonely to be at No.5 with only her mother and Hyacinth; who rather liked to do talking on her own. Benedict was the only sibling who truly listened and understood her, or at least she thought, and it was quite lonesome when he was miles and miles away when she wanted to talk with him desperately.

“Do you know why I don’t get married?” She said, abruptly.

“Because men are too inferior to match your superior mind?” Benedict teased her in a mocking tone, and Eloise had to crack a smile.

“Close, but I have other reasons as well,” Eloise said, “But do you promise not to tell Hyacinth? Or Anthony or Mother or anyone else?”

“I will swear an oath by my daughter’s name.”

“How could you ever know the sex of the baby?”

“I just know.” Benedict hummed happily, “Enlighten me, Eloise. The reason why you keep refusing every proposal.”

Eloise took a deep breath.

“I don’t want to get married because I want something that you have with Sophie. That kind of love and passion and drama. I want more than just, homes, estates, or hounds.”

“You have everything I desire in a relationship. The mutual love, respect, care, compassion. I’ve never seen the two of you quarrel like Kate and Anthony. Always so calm and relaxed.”

“Is that truly how we look like?”

“Mmm.”

“Were you ever a romanticist, Eloise?”

“Well you certainly made me one,” With dimmed eyes, Eloise dropped the ashes on the ground, “ I never believed in fairytales. I didn’t even believe in love, Benedict. Until it blossomed in front of my eyes,”

“It was beautiful, seeing how you fell in love with each other at No.5, despite living in two different worlds. You didn’t even hesitate to face the consequences, Benedict.”

“And you literally saved Sophie from death, brother. She could have been hanged if you weren’t there. You are Sophie’s shining knight of armor.”

Benedict gave a low laugh, blowing out smoke from his lungs, but Eloise continued,

“I pride myself on having read quite many books, but no story had been as romantic as yours. It’s almost as if it were right out of a fairytale.”

“Eloise,”

“What?”

“It’s not a fairytale.”

“Don’t you dare say that, brother. It’s quite a miracle the lady in silver happened to be the maid you saved from Cavender…”

“You can say that because you don’t know the full story, Eloise,”

And Benedict finally told the truth between Sophie and Benedict; that he had first asked her to be his mistress. And that Sophie had rejected his offer, and he had blackmailed her to come to London. But he did remove the part when he took Sophie’s virginity on the sofa. How much he loved and respected her; she was still his younger sister. But even without the most scandalous bits, Eloise’s crisp blue eyes dimmed and dimmed, her face crunching in disgust as she continued on with the story.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Eloise’s tone was laced with disgust and annoyance.

“Anthony stopped me,”

“Then why are you telling me now?”

“Because,” Benedict stopped for a second, a drop of hesitation, “I want my dear sister to know that love stories are not always perfect,”

“But it is,”

“I just said that I asked Sophie to be my mistress,”

“Yes, but you came to your bloody senses and married her in the end. And Sophie forgave your stupidity and kept loving you despite your awful behavior. Now carrying your child. It’s still a perfect story, Benedict. Happily Ever After!”

Benedict blatantly stared at his little sister, almost taken aback by her pure naivety. Almost as if she were trying to worship the perfect love story between Sophie and him. That, he knew, was far too dangerous. To romanticize an ugly reality.

“Sophie and I…yes, I’ll admit that it is a miracle that we are together, but El, we are far from perfect.”

“But you two are,”

“Do you know it took weeks for Sophie to tell me that she was pregnant?”

“What? Why would I know…,”

Benedict interrupted her words, breaking the one rule he always kept when he was talking with Eloise.

“I only realized that she was pregnant when Anthony and Kate subtly asked me if Sophie wanted to see the family doctor. And do you know what she said when I lightly asked why it took so long to tell me? She said it was “too soon to be sure.” But what did she think we were doing every night?”

“What were you doing every night?” A wave of panic hit his breath when Eloise’s sharp blue eyes stared at him with a look of innocence and utter curiosity.

“T, talking.” He managed to stutter, “B, bonding, I would rather say…”

“When is anyone ever going to tell me the bloody specifics?” Eloise muttered angrily, and Benedict thought it better to swiftly avert Eloise’s interests.

“Did I ever tell you that Sophie loathes my lavish expenditures?”

Just as he thought, Eloise’s eyes widened in surprise and a little bit of delight to hear their marital conflicts,

“But you never ravish money!”

“She had different views,” Benedict smiled weakly, “And I know I’ve upset her in some kind or other when she says my name in b flat.”

“Huh,”

“And do you know that I almost made her cry because of the baby supplies I brought in London?”

“I don’t understand Benedict. Why would that upset her? Shouldn’t she be pleased?”

“She thought she was an unworthy mother because she didn’t prepare them herself,”

“Then why didn’t she tell that before?”

“There are so many things she doesn’t tell me, Eloise.”

Eloise sank into silence, processing the aspect that she had never imagined in her brother’s perfect relationship. To Eloise’s eyes, they just seem so perfect, like they were born for each other,

“Has Sophie told you that she was afraid of dying?”

“WHAT?”

The cigarette dropped from Benedict’s fingers. There was genuine hurt and shock in Benedict’s voice, as he buried his head in his head yet again. The half-burned-out cigarette lay forgotten on the dirt. Eloise stretched her legs to snub out the last remaining flame.

“In her letters, she kept repeatedly writing about how she wanted me to visit My Cottage more; to take care of you and the baby. If she can’t make it through,”

Eloise tried not to look at a tear that dropped on Benedict’s worn-out yet perfectly mended brown boots.

“She didn’t exactly say that she was afraid of dying,” Eloise’s voice came out more like an excuse, seeing his brother shrunk and defalated second by second, “But she sounded so desperate in her letters, and her fear, was, well, implied…”

“I just knew something was troubling her but I should have known…”

“Is that you asked Mother to come?”

Benedict hitched his breath, his throat making an akward noise.

“Yes.”

“Because you can’t ask Sophie?”

“…Yes.”

“You’re a coward.”

“A little harsh, Eloise.”

Benedict finally looked up from his hands, but his green-grey eyes were wavering,

“I always want Sophie to tell me everything, but she tends to keep everything inside herself. I’ll ask, but she’ll answer it’s nothing. And if I push too much, she flees away.”

His tone was filled with guilt, almost as if everything was his fault.

“Why don’t you just ask her to just spit it all out? I always thought honesty and transparency is required in any form of union…”

“El. She had a difficult childhood. A traumatic upbringing. Much harder and gruesome than we could ever imagine.”

Eloise grimly nodded, remembering the time she encountered Araminta Gunningworth at the modiste after her brother’s marriage. The verbal slander she slashed on Posy was both alarming and horrendous, sending chills in her bones. Eloise was shocked at how it could be addressed to her very own daughter. And Sophie had been the bastard. Eloise shuddered, imagining the horrifying extent of Sophie’s destructive past.

“And no matter how hard I try…” Benedict’s words trailed off in the darkness. Eloise saw Benedict clench his fist, gripping the coarse ropes, “There are parts of Sophie I could never understand. Even how desperately I yearn to understand,”

“But I love her El. So ardently that it burns me to the core. And it kills me that I can’t take any pain, any burden for her. And I want to make it work, And I know she’s trying her best to make this, make us work.” Words were bursting, a flooding river on a stormy night, “And I feel terrible that I can’t understand everything about her…”

“But isn’t that everyone?” Eloise found herself saying, words nonconsciously slipping from her lips, “I never understood why Colin suddenly fell in love with Penelope when he had known her for years. I didn’t even know that they were in love even though I have known them for a lifetime, and I don’t understand why Fran married John when they just sat in silence, when she is practically my twin,”

“And I bet,” Eloise continued hesitantly, “Sophie doesn’t understand why you have to have 60 waistcoats in your closet.”

“It’s actually 48 now.”

“You threw them away?”

“I gave them away to the servants when I left London,”

“Sophie did really make you into a changed man, didn’t she?” Eloise muttered to herself, but, no, she still wasn’t finished with her point.”

“Anyway, I just want to say that nobody understands each other. Yet, you hold on to each other. You and Sophie. Despite your flaws. Despite Sophie’s flaws. So desperately and so adoringly. Isn’t that perfect enough?”

Eloise heard a lonely howl from the distance, perhaps a hound crying for its mate. Eloise can remember Benedict’s drunken slurs a year ago, whining about the memories of his Lady in Silver,

“You two are just too perfect.”

“Perhaps we are, Eloise. Like you say. Perfect.”

“Mmm.”

“But do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because we know our imperfections.”

“What?”

“And we try our best dispite of it all.”

“I truly don’t understand what you are trying to say.”

“You will when you are older.”

“I hate you, Brother”

“And I love you too, Eloise.”

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

Just like I said, just like a bloody fairytale, Eloise thought to herself again as she watched the couple in the sitting room, snuggling together on a sofa. Her mother was knitting quietly beside the fireplace, a content smile on her lips.

Sophie perched on Benedict’s lap, excitedly showing the tulip-embroidered blanket her mother had given to her. Benedict stroking her golden locks, clinging to every word, looking at Sophie with the most adoring eyes.

No other word could explain the loving couple other than perfection. The honest, honorable wife and the absolutely besotted husband. There could be no secrets or conflicts between them, Eloise just knew.

Perhaps Benedict had lied to her about Sophie’s flaws or Sophie’s frustration with his habits. Perhaps Eloise had misread her letters, the ones she thought were dripping with fear and dread of death.

Because in Eloise’s eyes, Sophie was shining through the darkness, the glow in her whole presence, the lively, excited expression. There was no angst, no fear but just utter happiness and content between the two.

So, so, so bloody perfect,

#Writer’s Notes

“Love isn't something natural. Rather it requires discipline, concentration, patience, faith, and the overcoming of narcissism. It isn't a feeling, it is a practice.”

—Eric Fromm

“But if I know what love is, it is because of you.”

—Hermann Hesse

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #benophie #sophie beckett #benedict x sophie #an offer from a gentleman #benophie fics #bridgerton fanfiction

66 notes · View notes

eleanor-bradstreet · 3 months ago

Text

The Drawing Room

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett/Baek Rated: 18+ - explicit sexual content, language Word count: 560

Summary: Benedict and Sophie make the most of their visit to Bridgerton House.

Author's Note: A smutty little drabble I wrote an age ago but just never posted. Part of my series of Benophie doing it everywhere but their bed 😅 Enjoy!

Benedict simply could not keep his hands off his wife. Not when they were alone in a room together. Especially when that room was somewhere where intimate activities were typically forbidden - anywhere other than their bedroom. The taboo of it all made his blood race and when Sophie arched her brow or twisted her lips in those small ways that only he could interpret, he knew she felt the same way.

And that was how they found themselves tupping in the drawing room of his brother’s house yet again. Sophie was bent over the back of an armchair, stifling herself with her hand while Benedict drilled into her like a jackrabbit, admiring the perfect roundness of her smooth bottom. Cleverly, she had positioned herself so that the frame of the chair rubbed against her in precisely the right spot each time he bucked into her. She may not reach her peak that way, but at least she was chasing her own pleasure simultaneously with him, and he would be sure to polish her off later.

Though the doors were locked and they were stationed away from the windows, they had to be quick. The footman had told them to expect the Viscount and his family to return at three o’clock, which meant they had fifteen minutes left. Benedict began to push into Sophie harder, more deeply, and the chair wobbled as one leg briefly lifted off the rug. She knew what would help steady them. It was the same thing she wanted to feel Benedict do to her. She reached for his hand on her waist and brought it to the back of her head, pressing his fingers to grip into her coiffure.

“Oh fuck,” she heard him hiss, and she couldn’t help a giggle from escaping her throat. She held firmly to the chair while her neck was arched up and back by Benedict tugging at her hair. To feel entirely under his control, held frozen in place, with the mild pain of his grip, was deliciously naughty and she hummed under her breath with arousal.

Benedict pounded away like a madman, one hand gripping Sophie’s waist for dear life, and the other nested into her styled hair. The sight of her swanlike neck bent back, her entire torso poised out straight due to his hold on her, was precisely the kind of sinful beauty his wife gifted him, especially when they needed to finish their uncouth encounters.

With the quietest moan he could choke back, he erupted, throbbing within her tight walls as he released her hair and rode out his climax. Sophie sighed and grinned to herself as he pulled away and buttoned his trousers, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his ruffled shirt cuff. He smoothed her dress down and she stood up, chuckling, her back still toward him.

Playfully, he grabbed hold of her hair once again and leaned in to growl in her ear.

“And what precisely is so funny, Mrs. Bridgerton?”

Sophie smirked, bringing a hand up to stroke the side of his face. “How I can work you like a timepiece, my darling. It comes in handy, does it not?”

“Mmm,” With a crooked grin, he jerked her head back onto his shoulder and kissed her deeply, thanking her, and showing her with his tongue a promise of reciprocation to come.

Tagging: @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @kmc1989

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #sophie baek #benophie #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #sophie beckett fanfiction #sophie baek fanfiction #benophie fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benophie smut #bridgerton smut

45 notes · View notes

queen-of-the-misfit-toys · 6 months ago

Text

Tangled

Warnings: 18+, slightly smutty but doesn't quite make it 😁

This is not my official Benophie week offering of the day but it does have the word wedding in it 🤣. Just a drabbly thing of about 170 words.

___________________________________________

"I don't think we're doing this right, love, it just feels wrong." Benedict squirmed on top of Sophie as he struggled to find the position outlined in the book Kate had given them as a wedding present. "My cock doesn't bend that way! Are you even listening to me, Sophie?"

Sophie, who had fallen asleep waiting for him to do something, anything, murmured, "What, Darling, what did you say? Have we started yet?" She sat up slightly and smacked Benedict's bottom. "I'm getting bored and tired. Can't we just have regular, normal people sex tonight? And I'd much rather look at your face than your feet."

Benedict twisted his head around to look at her, "Do you really want to abandon the challenge? We agreed that we were going to try every position in this damnable book. Come on, Soph, I think I've almost got it figured out!"

"Fine," she sighed, "but I am not calling for the doctor when it," nodding her head towards her husband's groin, "breaks."

#benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benophie #benophie week 2024 #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton

24 notes · View notes

silverhallow · 1 year ago

Note

“Say you love me” is the prompt…

This got a bit long so it’s below the cut!

Hope you enjoy a little bit of Ben and Sophie at Uni 🧡

Benedict had no idea what was going on. Sophie had pulled back from him, she was pushing him away. She’d started not returning his calls, and started avoiding him on campus. He had no idea what was going on.

He’d spoken to Kate and even she’d not heard from her. He was concerned. Her classmates hadn’t heard from her, it was like she’d just disappeared off the face of the earth.

He was worried about her. Things had been really good between them lately, they’d been getting closer, they’d been talking about getting a place together next year, things were good and looking up and he’d been trying to work out how to tell her that he loved her.

He knew she had issues with commitment, she’d been through hell with her childhood, her father had taken a long time to come to terms with his daughter, not being able to have other children had changed his relationship with her and it had started to be repaired after he’d filed for divorce from Sophie’s step mother.

Benedict had heard about the things Sophie’s step-mother had put her through, it had broken his heart and he understood why she had walls up around her heart and why it had taken him so long to get to her to agree to go out with him.

It had been 8 months, he’d been sure he’d been in love with her since their first date but he didn’t want to scare her away, he had wanted it to come from her first.

It had to come from her first but so far it hadn’t come. He was starting to wonder if she had just decided to call it a day on their relationship but hadn’t called him, didn’t want to tell him but given Kate didn’t even know where she was and they were roommates and she’d said her things were there, but Sophie wasn’t.

Last Kate knew Sophie had gone to her lecture but not come back. Her classmates had confirmed she’d been there but she’d gotten a phone call and taken off, she’d not said where she was going or what she was doing but she’d gotten into a car no one recognised and disappeared.

It was a few days before the news had reached them, it had been in the news and Kate had found it by accident, she’d been wondering if something had happened back home but as Sophie wasn’t answering her phone, and she didn’t have her step-sister’s number or her father’s home number. Kate had never been to Norfolk to Sophie’s home so didn’t actually know where she lived but she’d been browsing the Norfolk news pages to see if there were any hints or clues about her best friend, when she’d come across the news article.

She’d called Benedict the moment she’d read it, Richard Gunningworth, had been in an accident, his ex-wife had died in the accident. What they’d been doing together Kate had no idea but the accident was the day Sophie had gotten the phone call so they’d assumed that was what had caused Sophie to flee.

Why she didn’t tell anyone that her father had been in an accident she had no idea but Benedict had come over and managed to find something with Sophie’s home address on it and he took off after his girlfriend.

He had no idea if she even wanted him there but there was no way that he was leaving her to do this by herself. He’d know what it was like when his father had been in his accident, how alone he’d felt and he didn’t want her to feel that way.

2 hours it took him to drive over to Norfolk, to the address on the old postcard that he’d gone and he’d hoped that they’d not moved, that it was still the same address.

As he pulled up outside, he saw the car that Sophie’s classmates had described her getting into and he felt hopeful.

He got to the front door but when a curvy redheaded girl answered the door, he looked confused “is… is Sophie here?”

“You must be Ben” she said “i’m Posy, her step-sister… she’s… at the hospital with her dad… come… come in…” she stuttered at him.

“Okay, if… if you’re sure” he said and he followed the girl into the house.

“I’ve been telling her all week to call you… to tell you where she was, what had happened but she… well you know what she’s like for pushing people away…” Posy sighed.

“I know what she’s like at letting people in… this is the first i’ve experienced at being pushed away” Benedict said “i only found out because Kate saw the news on some Norfolk website… I don’t know what to do…”

“I know, she’s the hardest person to love, she’s so afraid of rejection, of not being wanted… but she’s got the kindest heart, she loves so deeply. I know she loves you, she’s been a mess since she got back but she has no idea how to depend on another person. She’s been so used to being alone, to doing everything alone so this is all new to her”

“She loves me?” Benedict asked

Posy went bright red. “I… I should not have told you that if she’s not told you…”

“No… but… does she?”

“She does, she told me, but… she’s just… this is new to her. She’s been torn and i’ve seen her close to calling your number so many times over the last week, she’s just… she’s had no idea what to say… she’s…”

“Stubborn” Benedict finished “but there was no way i’d leave her alone during this, there is no way this would make me run away, she told me everything that she’s been through, it’s understandable and I wanted to give her space but this… this is just…”

Before he could finish the door opened and closed and they heard Sophie’s voice from the hall “Posy… i’m home”

“Living room” Posy called back, “we’ve got company…”

“Huh… we do who…” she called back

“Come find out…” Posy called putting her finger to her lips to ensure Benedict stayed quiet

“Pose, can we not do this… i’m tired and just want to… Ben… what are you… how… what are you doing here?” Sophie stammered seeing her boyfriend in her front room. She’d never in a million years expected to see him there. “Did you call him?!”

“No, he just turned up… i’ll go get dinner on, leave you to two talk” Posy said getting up and running quickly from the room.

“Soph… why didn’t you tell me?” Benedict asked softly, “it wouldn’t have caused me to run away…”

“Ben… I… it’s just… I didn't know if Dad was going to make it… I didn’t want… I didn’t…”

“You didn’t want to be a burden?” he asked looking incredulous “Sophie, you’re my girlfriend… I know that woman made you feel like a burden, but you are not a burden to me. What bothers you, bothers me… what hurts you, hurts me… i’ve been frantic all week thinking you didn’t want to be with me anymore, that you’d just fallen off the face of the earth, you’ve not returned mine or Kate’s messages… our calls… it’s… i mean I get it you’ve had more important things to do but Soph… we’re supposed to be a team…”

“I don’t know how to do this… I don’t know… this is all new to me Ben… you know i’m not good with all of this… how… I've never needed anyone in my life… I don't know how to do this…”

“It’s easy… say you love me…” he said softly

“W…what…”

“Tell me that you love me… that’s all it takes” Benedict said

“Do… do… Do you love me?” she asked biting her lip nervously

“Sophie, i’ve loved you from the moment i met you” Benedict said

“Why did you not say anything?”

“Because I didn’t want to scare you, I know all this is new to you… I knew it had to come from you first but i’ve been waiting for months waiting for you to say it first, i’ve been waiting for you… but Soph, i’ve been here, i’ve been through the pain of thinking you’re going to lose a parent, you never have to do anything alone ever again, if you need me here, then here is where I’ll be, if you need space then i’ll give you it but I need you to know that i’m here whenever you need me… all you have to do is tell me that you love me, and i’ll be there for you. Always” he said

“Really?” Sophie asked with tears in her eyes as she walked over to him and put her hands on his shoulder.

“Always” he vowed as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I love you Ben…” she said before leaning down and kissing him softly.

“I love you too Soph, always”

#bridgerton #benophie #Benophie drabbles #bridgerton drabbles #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benedict x sophie #ash’s drabbles

11 notes · View notes

the-other-art-blog · 4 months ago

Text

Benophie wish list: Benedict and Anthony (PART 1)

It's no secret I have my criticisms about Anthony, one of them being his treatment of Benedict. I hope we see some exploration on this relationship, especially now that Johhny Bailey called Benedict "the beating heart of the family." 🥰🥰🥰

First off, I don't think it would be easy to be Anthony's younger brother. Let's be real, he was not an easy person to love until s3, even Kate struggled. And when you are in a system like the aristocracy, it's even worse. Anthony gets all the authority just for being born first, and Benedict is automatically undervalued as the spare.

I want to be fair to both of them because they both are good people. So, if at some point you feel I'm going too hard on Anthony, I promise I'll judge Benedict too here and in other posts.

I think Ben has been accumulating a lot of frustration regarding Anthony since they were children. One of my fav scenes in First Comes the Scandal (Rokesby series #4) illustrates this relationship since childhood.

Here is Anthony (7 years old) and Benedict (5 years old):

Before this scene, Anthony and Ben are described as "little terrors" by Edmund. Yes, they have fun together and were having fun before this incident, but Anthony does something to upset Benedict every now and then.

I wonder if this is how Ben got his black eye, mentioned in To Sir Phillip with Love:

My headcanon is they were practicing boxing and it got out of hand due to some brotherly teasing gone too far. Anthony threw a punch too hard and knocked Ben down by accident. I don't think Anthony meant it, but Benedict didn't move quickly enough. I wrote a little drabble about this:

And if we remember the fencing scene in s2, Anthony is a sore loser. Benedict says that whenever Anthony doesn't win, he accuses them of cheating. We can see how he reacts when Benedict bests him at fencing and it's not very mature, because he holds all the authority granted by birthright. An aristocrat like him is used to get everything he wants and he can't even deal with his brothers.

Thankfully, by the time the show began, Benedict was old enough to fight back in his own way. Some of Benedict's best moments in s2 are when he's teasing Anthony. That is one advantage of Benedict, he can tease all he wants because he's more likable (in the story), so he gets away with it. Who doesn't love this scene:

It must have been so satisfying for Benedict to see Kate winning the argument. He loves her for putting Anthony in his place.

Of course not everything is negative and this is not a post meant to trash Anthony. Benedict also has made plenty of mistakes in this relationship. For starters, he should have helped Anthony much more in estate management. He's just a couple for years younger and he must have been trained in management, just in case. Honestly, I cannot understand how an aristocrat fills his time. What was he doing? Yes, we all have lazy days, but years? of doing nothing but sleep around and attend parties? (more on this in my next post.)

Onto the positive. Anthony and Benedict are still very close despite their differences and frustrations because for 5 years they were the only children. That's a considerable age gap between them and the rest of the siblings.

The whole thing of the heir and the spare also plays into this relationship to stay as tight as it is. It falls upon them to continue their father's legacy by law (which is why Ben should have helped Anthony more). The scene before the duel tells the audience so much about this. Colin, Gregory, and the girls loved Edmund as much as Ben and Anthony, but they will never have the connection these two had with him. They knew him longer and got the chance to have more mature conversations with him.

So for good or for bad, they have to have each other backs. Yes, Anthony pushed Benedict during the fending match, but he also helped him get up.

I have divided this post in various parts cause there's so much to unpack with these brothers. So, next post will be about the Academy fiasco. If you thought this was too harsh on Anthony, wait for it. No matter how wrong it was what Anthony did, Ben is taking advantage of that to blame Anthony for his self doubt.

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #benophie wish list

17 notes · View notes

bridgertonbabe · 1 year ago

Text

Bridgerton Drabble - Harry Potter AU Edition #6

As quietly as possible Sophie descended down Aubrey Hollow's winding staircase until she reached the ground floor and padded her way into the moonlit kitchen. She stopped by the window above the sink that looked out onto the garden that Colin and his siblings had shown her around earlier, observing a movement in the hedge from which a gnome emerged as he snuck his way back towards the turnip patch Eloise had proudly informed her she had planted with her father. Turning away from watching the garden pest, Sophie went to fetch a glass only to come to a hesitant halt.

Despite Colin's parents telling her to make herself at home and insisting she helped herself to any food or drink without needing to ask their permission first, she was still plagued with the apprehension that had been caused from years of having to share a house with Araminta. Sophie was so accustomed to being scolded for merely existing that it felt almost unnatural to roam about the Bridgertons' humble abode and exercise basic actions like getting something to eat or drink, or to even use the bathroom without anxiously having to ask permission to do so. She knew she had to shake off the hang-ups caused by her wicked stepmother and accept the warmth and kindness that the Bridgertons had welcomed her with, knowing that Araminta's cruelty wasn't the way in which most people treated others.

Once she consciously shook off her anxiety-induced apprehension, Sophie opened a cupboard to grab a glass and then proceeded to pour herself some water from the tap (and purposefully ignored the irrational scenario that played out in her mind of Edmund Bridgerton storming into the kitchen with a face of thunder and hexing her for daring to quench her thirst without asking). While she sipped her drink, she looked around the homely kitchen to study it's smaller details that she had yet to notice, not having had time during her first day at Aubrey Hollow as Colin and his siblings eagerly coveted her attention.

There were well-used cauldrons laying on the draining board in lieu of cooking pots, a small blackboard hanging on the wall with a scheduled menu of the week's dinners (as well as some doodles which varied in skill), and carvings around the edge of the table courtesy of Colin and his siblings marking their territory from the seats they always sat in. Littered on one of the kitchen walls was a sea of framed photos of the Bridgertons and their extended family throughout the years, all perpetually moving as people waved and beamed for the camera. The lone hanging that wasn't of a framed photo on this particular wall was what Sophie had initially thought to be a clock at a quick passing glance, but on closer inspection there were eight additional hands in contrast to a timepiece's typical two, and each of the hands was inscribed with a family member's name. Instead of numbers, there were various phrases such as "home", "school", "work", "hospital", "travelling", "lost", and "mortal peril"; and Sophie realised the clock functioned as a means to indicate the status of each of the family members, seeing as all ten hands were currently pointing at "home".

Sophie smiled as she admired the Bridgertons' kitchen and how starkly it contrasted to the one back home because even though the room was empty of people except her, it was so clearly filled with love and warmth by just how lived-in it evidently was. She just felt so inherently comfortable and at peace even though it wasn't her own homestead, and it was all down to the abundance of affection that radiated through the walls of Aubrey Hollow from all those who inhabited it.

She then noticed how one of the hands on the clock suddenly moved; Eloise's hand had just switched to "no good" at the same time as Sophie heard a door creak open from upstairs. She could have sworn she heard a distant ribbit before another door was creaked open. A few seconds later she heard a squeal, followed by a naughty giggle and the running of footsteps before a door slammed shut, and Eloise's hand clocked back to "home".

"Those hands strike "no good" more often than you'd think living here."

Sophie let out a gasp and jumped, managing to keep a firm hold of her glass of water as she whirled around to see Benedict Bridgerton.

"Sorry, sorry!" he apologised in a hushed tone and immediately held up a reassuring hand to her. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh no, I'm sorry." she responded instantly. "I didn't hear you come in, is all." she cringed, feeling momentarily stupid for somehow missing any sound of him moving about the house.

"Don't be sorry." he scoffed and waved off her returned apology. "I just know how to move about without making any noise - unlike some of my siblings." he remarked and pointed upwards just as a door creaked open.

"Eloise!" they heard who Sophie was sure was Daphne hiss indignantly (as the hand bearing her name ticked to "no good") and a door slam after her before muffled squeals started up a couple of floors above them.

"I hope their antics didn't wake you up."

"Oh not at all." Sophie replied.

"Ah, so Colin's snoring woke you up?" Benedict smirked.

"He doesn't snore!" she gently giggled.

"Soph, I know you're an incredibly nice person but there's no need to lie for Colin's benefit. He's fallen asleep on the sofa enough times to prove the fact that he does snore."

"Be that as it may, it didn't disturb me." she said truthfully; her best friend's snoring was gentle enough that it hadn't kept her awake - in fact she found it comforting, knowing she wasn't alone and she had actually fallen asleep quicker as a result. "I was just thirsty."

Benedict nodded in acknowledgement with an easy smile aimed at her. Sophie was just grateful that the dim source of light was able to hide the blush that spread across her face as a result of his smile (not to mention just being in his presence in general).

"Were you grabbing a bite a to eat too?"

"Oh, no!" Sophie shook her head quickly. "No, no; just water."

"Soph; you are allowed to help yourself if you did want something to eat." he said, his gaze softening at her. "You know that right?"

"Oh, yes. Of course." she nodded agreeably. "I'm just not hungry, is all."

"Ah. So you wouldn't be interested in joining me for a midnight chocolate feast?" he asked, cocking an amused brow.

The mention of chocolate instantaneously piqued Sophie's attention, which got a laugh out of Benedict from the way in which her eyes lit up and rounded with curiosity.

"Well... if you're offering." a small smile played on Sophie's lips.

Glancing back and forth from the two empty doorways that led out of the kitchen to assure the coast was clear, Benedict then took a couple of steps forwards until he was practically toe to toe with Sophie (which caused her to worry that he was now close enough to hear the sound of her heart racing due to their narrowed proximity).

"Can you keep a secret?" he whispered.

Sophie successfully managed to restrain the gulp she wanted to swallow as she answered with a nod - after all, she had successfully been keeping her crush on the boy stood in front of her a secret since she had met him.

With an approving grin he then stepped over to the brick wall covered with photos and took off a frame containing a picture of a younger Violet Bridgerton with a baby boy in her arms.

"Oh my goodness, is that you?" Sophie gasped as she noticed the finger paint dirtying the little boy's hands that he used to grab a hold of his mother's face and plant a kiss on her cheek, much to Violet's heart-filled amusement as she laughed.

"Yeah." he confirmed, exhaling affectionately as he glanced at his infant self nuzzling into his mother's face.

"Aw, you're adorable!" she cooed, taking the frame from him and fondly watching the moving photo as baby Benedict pulled himself away from embracing his mum long enough to give his trademark lopsided grin to camera.

"Eh, my parents say Colin was the cutest baby." Benedict shrugged off and nodded to a nearby solo photo of Colin at six months. "The chubbier the baby, and all that."

Sophie glanced at the baby photo of her best friend, who indeed was undeniably adorable with his chubby little limbs and giggle-filled smile; but then all of the baby photos hanging on the wall proved that that the Bridgertons simply produced exceedingly adorable babies. But as ridiculously cute as chubby baby Colin was, Sophie couldn't help but be drawn back to the photo in her hands of baby Benedict, the sight of which melted her heart as she watched him kiss Violet's cheek again. The image only fuelled her the various fantasy scenarios she harboured, the ones she came up with in bed at night that she had been nurturing for the last year, fantasies that primarily involved Benedict reciprocating his love for her, marrying him and starting a family with; and the visual image of having a baby identical to Benedict to be bestowed adorable kisses from with paint-stained hands only made her heart flutter and her feelings for Benedict deepen.

"Okay?" Benedict uttered to regain Sophie's attention.

She nodded, holding onto the frame but watching intently as Benedict touched a brick that had been hidden by the photo that had previously been hanging there. He then touched a few more bricks in a specific order and touched the first brick again, and then much to Sophie's amazement the series of bricks he had touched momentarily glowed before moving away to reveal a hole in the wall. She watched as Benedict reached in and then casually extracted a box of Honeydukes chocolates.

He turned back to her and smirked at the awed expression on Sophie's face. "Mum magicked it up for me." he explained. "Since Colin has a tendency to swipe snacks regardless if they don't belong to him, mum decided to create a hidey hole for me to stash my sweets in."

Sophie peered into the newly formed hole in the wall and cast her eyes across the stash of snacks Benedict had stored away from Colin's greedy prying eyes, captivated by the use of magic Violet had used to create the pocket in the first place.

"So only you and your mum know about this?"

"And now you."

Sophie looked to him, her heart skipping a beat as he caught her gaze and winked at her.

"Honeycomb truffle?" he said, offering out the chocolate tray he had just opened.

Together they indulged in the array of chocolates Honeydukes had to offer, with Sophie trying her best to restrain herself from making any sound effects as she savoured the delectable flavours she tasted, not wanting to embarrass herself in front of her crush.

"I hope my siblings didn't overwhelm you too much today." Benedict remarked as he sized up which chocolate to have next.

"Oh, not at all."

After resting for a few hours following her dramatic escape from her bedroom-turned-prison, and once Violet had ensured she had eaten a full breakfast, the younger five Bridgerton siblings were all keen to garner Sophie's attention. For the entire day, despite Colin's best efforts to hog his friend all to himself, his sisters and little brother refused to leave Sophie alone and trailed after the pair from room to room, indoors and outdoors.

"It's fair enough if they did; they overwhelm me at the best of times." he snorted.

"I mean, it was a lot all at once, but it made for a nice change." Sophie replied in earnest.

She was so accustomed to a home where she felt an innate sense of loneliness that it was nothing short of welcome relief to be surrounded by so many people chatting away incessantly and tugging on her arm to get her attention. Especially after ten days locked away in a bedroom with only Posy briefly talking to her from the other side of the door when Araminta wasn't around to yell at her.

"I should warn you, after today you're now Hyacinth's new favourite person."

Sophie grinned as she reflected on how the youngest member of the family had instantly taken to her when Edmund brought her down to the breakfast table. The two year old had spent the best part of the meal staring wide-eyed at the new person, utterly intrigued by everything Sophie said and did. Then as soon as Colin announced he was going to give Sophie a tour of Aubrey Hollow, a tiny hand had slipped into Sophie's and she had looked down to find Hyacinth smiling coyly up at her. The toddler had been attached to her since then, never letting go of her hand for the entirety of the tour, and when Sophie sat down Hyacinth proceeded to sit on her lap and babble away nonsensically to her. The little girl had even thrown a tantrum when at dinner Colin insisted his friend sat in between him and Benedict, only calming down when Edmund sat her down in the chair directly across from Sophie. And finally when it was time for bed, Hyacinth had marched over to Sophie and handed her the bedtime story she wanted to be read to her, and Sophie happily obliged, sitting by the little girl's bedside and reading to her until she had fallen asleep.

"I'm sure she'll have lost interest by tomorrow." Sophie shrugged off modestly.

"Oh, no." Benedict shook his head and chuckled. "That's not how Hy operates. When you're her favourite person, she's obsessed. She pretty much imprints on you and refuse to leave your side."

"Who was her favourite person before?"

"She goes through cycles. She's definitely a daddy's girl but whenever Anthony's home for the holidays she's permanently attached to him. She goes through phases with Daphne, she's on and off with Greg, and whenever El's friend Penelope comes to visit she refuses to leave her alone no matter how much El shouts at her." Benedict elaborated. "But I can tell you now, until we go back to Hogwarts, she's going to be your little shadow. Don't worry though, we'll all try to rein her in,"

"Oh, that's not necessary." Sophie assured him. "I'd be more than happy to spend time with her. I always wanted a baby sister." she said sincerely, having wished for so long for a younger playmate when it was just her and her dad.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" Benedict smiled at her (oblivious to how his words directly caused the rosying of his companion's cheeks). "Probably the sweetest person to ever grace Aubrey Hollow, actually. I can't remember the last time someone walked into my room and actually apologised for disturbing me."

"I am really sorry if I did." Sophie added immediately.

"Don't be silly." he waved off. "It wasn't even you who barged in."

During Colin's tour as he led Sophie and the gaggle of younger siblings through the house, she had been shown everyone's bedroom with the younger siblings eager to show her every last toy and poster and miscellany possible. She hadn't expected Colin to then march right into Anthony's bedroom, who had immediately barked at them all to get out and stay out (though the eldest brother had then stuck his head out the door and told Sophie he wasn't aiming any of his anger at her), only for Colin to then barge right into Benedict's bedroom as well. Unlike Anthony, Benedict hadn't chastised the uninvited guests to his room and had happily sat back as Colin and the rest of his younger siblings showed Sophie around the bedroom which was situated the highest in the house. She had tried her best to play it cool the most during the tour of his bedroom; her eyes perusing intently over his artwork, scanning over his desk cluttered with sketchbooks and paints and ornaments, and giving Clement a stroke as he dozed in his cage by the window overlooking the countryside that stretched out around Aubrey Hollow.

"And besides, you think I'm not used to my family barging into my room at any given moment?"

"I know. I just wouldn't want to bother you and disturb your peace."

"Soph; you could never disturb my peace." he told her in earnest and nudged his shoulder against hers. "In fact, I exclusively give you permission to disturb me as and when you feel like."

Sophie giggled and even though she was sure Benedict was joking, it still made her giddy that he was being so kind and welcoming to her.

"And after saving me from my stepmum, I give you permission to disturb me too. If you so choose to." she returned in kind while trying to ensure she didn't cross any line which he might interpret to be flirting (as she would be mortified if she ever gave any suggestion to the true depth of her feelings for him).

There was a beat of silence where Sophie chewed on a particularly sticky toffee chocolate and she assumed Benedict was similarly munching on an equally tough bite of toffee to explain the silence between them.

"Has she always been like that?"

Sophie turned to him, mildly confused by Benedict's line of questioning that had soured his light jovial tone into a more serious one to match the newly drawn frown on his face.

"Who?"

"Your stepmum."

"Oh." Sophie uttered as she realised Benedict's question was referring to the way Araminta had gone to strike her before he had inadvertently intervened. "Well... she never liked me. She always argued with my dad about it."

"About what?" Benedict's frown deepened.

Sophie gave a small shrug. "My existence, I guess. I don't know. It's like the second she saw me, I instantly got under her skin. And no matter how hard I tried I could never win her round. Even though I was always good, I never misbehaved, I always tried to please her... I don't know, she just never liked me. Or even tried to like me."

Benedict shook his head sympathetically as he listened. "Did your dad know? About her... hitting you?"

"She never did it while he was alive. It was only after he died that she hit me at will. Not all the time, to be fair. Only when she was really mad at me."

"But why would she be mad with you?" Benedict asked, his jaw clenched the further Sophie expanded on the subject.

"Rosamund would make up stuff about me, like I had finished the last of the sweets or had played dress up with her clothes and spilled stuff on them when it was actually her. It didn't matter that Posy tried to back me up, she'd still hit me. And basically anything that went wrong in the house, for some reason she'd blame me and attack me for it."

"I'm so sorry you ever had to go through that." Benedict said after a beat of silence.

"It's not your fault." Sophie shrugged.

"But Sophie, you shouldn't have suffered any of it. And you're a child; even if you did anything remotely wrong it doesn't give her any right to hit you!" Benedict shook his head with frustration. "And the fact that she disliked you from the off... I just can't wrap my head around it. How anyone could not like you or even reach a point of hating you?"

"But that's just life, right? Not everyone you meet is going to like you."

"No, Sophie. You're the sweetest, kindest, loveliest person I've ever met." he told her, causing Sophie's heart to clench from the glowing perception he had of her. "It's literally impossible for anyone to meet you and instantly dislike you - and it's a reflection on how awful a person someone must be if they do."

"Well, Araminta is a pretty awful person."

"Not just awful. Nasty. Vile. Horrible. Wicked. Cruel. She's detestable."

"Can't argue with you on any of that." Sophie replied light-heartedly.

"It's just... it genuinely upsets me to know that you endured any of that, Sophie. That anyone could ever physically hurt you or make you feel bad about yourself. You don't deserve it, any of it. You're far too wonderful to have someone like her in your life. She's just a monster - and you know what, I don't even regret accidentally using magic against her."

"It's okay, Ben." she said, reaching out and squeezing his hand as she realised just how emotional he was getting. "I'm safe now. You and Colin and Anthony made sure of that, and I'll be forever grateful to you all for saving me and to your family for taking me in. It means the world to know that I have a family as caring as yours looking out for me."

She hadn't expected it when he then hugged her tight, and just like she savoured the chocolates they had been sharing, she savoured the sudden embrace for all it was worth, indulging in the feeling of his arms wrapped around her and just how safe, protected, and cared about he made her feel. She tried to squash any feelings bubbling away in her heart that tried to get her hopes up by making her believe that this was a sign he might like her just as much as she liked him; instead she focused on relishing the fact that he was clearly very fond of her, even if it was just platonic on his part.

"You're one of the family now, Soph. You always will be." he told her before pulling away. "You're stuck with us now, I'm afraid."

"Hey, so long as you're willing to share your stash of chocolate with me, I'll happily stick around." she teased back and finally the mood lifted as she managed to get a chuckle out of him.

Benedict then replaced the chocolate box back in it's hidey hole before closing the wall back up and putting the photo back where it belonged. Together they then walked up the stairs until they reached Colin's bedroom on the floor below Benedict's.

"Thanks again." Sophie whispered. "For everything."

"Don't mention it." he smiled back. "We could meet again tomorrow night, seeing as we didn't finish the box."

"Sounds like a plan." she smirked back, schooling her face to veil just how thrilled she was to plan another tête-à-tête with him for the following night.

"Goodnight, Soph."

"Goodnight, Ben."

With one last parting smile, he continued to ascend the staircase and Sophie slipped back into Colin's bedroom. Her friend had remained utterly undisturbed as his gentle snores continued while Sophie got back into her bed. She turned on her side and closed her eyes, her mind filled with the midnight meeting she had just had with the object of her affections. With a smile on her face she indulged in one of her many fantasies, one which now included an adorable baby identical to the photo of Benedict that she cuddled as she shared a box of chocolates with her husband; a fantasy which squeezed at her heart as she blissfully drifted off to sleep.

#harry potter au #bridgerton drabble #benophie drabble #sophie beckett #benedict bridgerton #benedict x sophie

18 notes · View notes

funemployed-fangirl · 5 months ago

Text

Modern AU Benedict x Sophie

The Second Meeting

2012

As Sophie exited the bar, desperate to shake off the doldrums of the world’s most boring date, she felt a light sprinkle of rain begin to hit her bare arms. Of course she’d left her practical but unattractive jacket at home so as not to ruin her outfit. And for what? She shouldn’t have bothered looking so cute for this date. Actually, she shouldn’t have bothered leaving the apartment at all. She sighed heavily, then realized she needed to move out of the doorway as two blond men in Patagonia vests appeared behind her.

“Bad night sweetheart?” the taller of them asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

Sophie made a non-committal sound and raised her eyebrows in polite but dismissive acknowledgement of the comment. She hoped they would move on as she silently debated the merits of a 20 minute walk in the rain or a taxi she couldn’t afford. But her new pal was undeterred.

“Yeah, that bar sucked,” he said. “That’s why we’re headed to a way better party right now.” He leaned towards Sophie and eyed her up and down. “You know, you are totally my friend’s type. He wouldn’t want me to say this, but he loves a blonde in tight jeans. You should come with us to this party. It’s an album release. Pretty exclusive, but, uh, we could probably get you in. We know a guy from the label, so…”

Did this tool think he sounded impressive right now? A wave of pure exhaustion overcame Sophie as she thought about how best to escape this conversation.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m actually headed to another bar to meet my friend, so…” Sophie started walking away from the guys, realizing immediately that she was in fact walking in the opposite direction of home, and would have to double back once she ditched the dudebros.

“What’s the rush?” asked the second guy, stepping in front of her path. “We were just getting to know each other. My man Tyler wasn’t kidding, we can totally get you into a sick-ass party. Invite your friend to join us - the more the merrier!”

As Sophie tried to turn away from douche number two she realized douche number one (apparently called Tyler) had moved right behind her, blocking her escape.

“Thanks for the offer, guys. But I’m good. Enjoy your party.” Sophie had tried to sound as authoritative as possible, but the proximity of the two men caused her voice to come out way more unsure than she’d intended.

Tyler grabbed her arm. “You know, Kyle, I don’t think she likes you that much. Maybe I’m more her type. What do you say, sweetheart, we could have some fun together.”

Panic rising in her chest, Sophie tried to shake him off but his grip was strong. She turned her head away from the smell of vodka and redbull and found herself face to face with Kyle. She jerked away from him, tripping backwards on the sidewalk. She probably would have fallen except for Tyler’s vice-like grip on her upper arm, holding her up against her will. As Tyler barked “Don’t be like that,” and Kyle continued to insist they could show her a good time, another voice interrupted the scene - deep, strong, and calm in a way that implied a threat just beneath the surface.

“Is there a problem here, gentlemen?”

Sophie looked around and nearly gasped. There was Benedict Bridgerton, the star of 2 years worth of romantic fantasies and what-ifs, having just exited the very bar she’d been bored out of her mind in for the last hour.

He was as handsome as she remembered him, from his silky chestnut brown hair and dark eyes to his broad shoulders and perfect jawline. He wore a crisp light blue oxford, unbuttoned casually at the neck, charcoal gray pants, and a perfectly tailored camel peacoat. He almost seemed taller than Sophie remembered him, but maybe that was because he was currently standing at his full, most intimidating height. With one look, it was clear this was not someone to be trifled with. He practically smelled like money and power. Which, Sophie thought, he actually did - she knew he wore very expensive cologne to go with his very expensive everything else.

Some frat boy animal instincts must have alerted Sophie’s would-be assailants that this was an alpha male with rank far above their own, because she felt their body language change instantly. Tyler’s grip on her arm loosened slightly (but didn’t let go) and they both adopted forced casual poses as they nodded familiarly at Benedict.

“No man, no problem. We’re just chatting with our friend here.”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” drawled Kyle as he made to put his arm around Sophie’s shoulders.

“I am NOT their friend,” ground out Sophie, as she finally successfully yanked herself away from the two men.

“Aw, don’t be like that, we were just having fun,” said Tyler as he moved to grab at her again, but Benedict stepped smoothly in between them, placing his body firmly in front of Sophie and blocking the path to her completely.

“You’re done here. Go home and sleep it off.” Benedict’s would-be casual tone remained steady but the edge to it became more pronounced with each word.

Unable to help herself, Sophie peaked around Benedict’s shoulders, which were at eye level, to look at the two guys, who looked like they were calculating the odds of a fight. Tyler stepped forward and said, all laughter gone from his voice, “who the fuck do you think you are man? This is none of your business…”

But before he could continue Benedict growled, “Do you want to get banned from every bar above midtown? Or lose a few teeth? Because I could make either of those things happen. Now get out of here before I start to lose my patience.”

Realizing they were facing a losing battle, the douche bros turned tail and scampered away down the street, Patagonia vests flapping in the wind.

Sophie, who hadn’t realized she’d apparently stopped breathing, took a deep shuddering breath and tried to slow her rapidly beating heart. Benedict whirled around to look at her, the powerful calm suddenly gone from his stance. His eyes were filled with worry and his tone soft as he moved towards her and asked, “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

He reached out towards her with both arms, placing the lightest of touches on her shoulders to steady her. The contrast of Benedict’s gentle touch to the rough handling she’d received moments before was so stark Sophie almost started to cry. She tried to reassure Benedict that she was okay, but he looked unconvinced. Admittedly, it was hard for Sophie to concentrate on forming coherent sentences when Benedict Bridgerton’s fingertips were sending shockwaves up and down her arms and his eyes were looking more and more like those of a concerned puppy dog with every passing second.

He glanced at a spot on her left arm just below his fingers and let out a hiss. Red marks were glowing where that drunk jerk had grabbed her. Sophie knew they were thinking the same terrible thought - there would be a hand-shaped bruise there by the morning.

“Do you want to put some ice on that? I’m sure we can get some inside from the bar,” Benedict offered.

“No, God, I don’t want to go back in there. I’ll just go home. It’ll be fine,” Sophie said. She watched Benedict pull his cell phone out of an inside pocket and start to type in a number.

“Let me call you a ride home, then. Where are you headed? Is it around here?” He then thoughtfully added, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. You can just give the address to the driver when he gets here, of course.” He looked so desperate to help, but as Sophie looked into his caring face, a sinking feeling settled in her stomach. He had no idea who she was. Her whole body was on fire just from being in close proximity to Benedict again, but to him, she was just some pathetic stranger in need of saving. She realized she needed to get out of there as fast as she could, before she either burst into tears or started to scream.

“Oh my gosh, thank you, but that’s not necessary. My apartment’s just like a 20 minute walk down the street, it’s really not a big deal.” Sophie hoped she sounded casual and breezy, but feared that she still sounded completely panicked, which was not likely to convince her knight in Armani armor to back down from his mission. As it was, she was beginning to realize she had no desire to show back up at the Goldmans’ apartment disheveled, soaking wet, and covered in bruises, but what other choice did she have?

Sure enough, Benedict seemed reluctant to let her wander off by herself. He looked out at the rainy street, then down at his hands as if an umbrella might magically appear in them. Shrugging his shoulders slightly at his helplessness, he finally said, “If you're sure. Um… I’m glad you’re alright.”

Sophie knew that was her cue to run, but instead they both just stood there, gazing into each others’ eyes. Once again, warmth began to tingle under her skin as his soulful brown eyes looked at her imploringly. They both seemed to be leaning slightly towards one another, as if drawn by some invisible force. For a moment, she thought there might have been a look of recognition, but she was sure she imagined it. Finally she gave herself a little shake and mumbled, “Right. Yeah, I should go,” and strode quickly and confidently into the night.

Or at least, that’s what she meant to do. What actually happened is she took one step and her leg immediately gave way under her. Benedict lunged forward and gracefully caught her as she began to fall, one arm around her back, the other grabbing her right arm and quickly steadying her. Did they teach lightning fast reflexes at Yale Business School?

“Woah! Careful, are you ok?”

Shit.

“I must have twisted my ankle when I was struggling with those idiots!” Sophie whined. She hated how close to tears she sounded, but if ever there was a time to cry, surely this was it.

Benedict looked more worried than ever, and hadn’t actually loosened his grip on her arm. With her luck, she’d now have a handprint shaped bruise on this arm to match the other one. He looked down at her ankle. “Can you put weight on it?”

She tried.

“Ow!”

“That’s it, I’m calling you a car,” he said, finally letting go of her arm to reach back into his jacket pocket.

“You really don’t have to do that.”

“You can’t walk 20 minutes on wet sidewalk with a twisted ankle.”

“It’s fine, really. I just want to get out of the rain.”

They looked at each other, both clearly wondering what to do next. Benedict glanced back at the crowded bar, but could see on Sophie’s face she wanted to head back in there less than she wanted to skid all the way home. Suddenly, he seemed to make up his mind.

Benedict offered, “My apartment’s literally around the corner. We can be there in two minutes, you can put your foot up, get some ice on your ankle, dry off a bit, and then you can figure out what to do from there.” Sophie stopped breathing again. Was Benedict really offering to take her back to his apartment? She remembered the last time she’d received that offer, albeit under very different circumstances. She absolutely couldn’t agree to this. Could she? Seeing her hesitation, Benedict quickly added, “I promise, you’ll be safe the whole time. I’m just offering somewhere dry and warm. I swear, your virtue will be safe from me.”

It was the sort of sentence that easily could have had the opposite of its intended effect, but Benedict’s wording had been so stilted and awkward, and the entire situation was so ridiculous, that Sophie burst into giggles. Soon Benedict was laughing, too, relieved that he hadn’t managed to scare her off. So the two of them stood in the glow of lights from a terrible bar, getting steadily drenched in the cold rain, her leaning on him with a foot dangling in the air, laughing like hyenas at the absurdity of it all.

Finally the laughter subsided long enough for Sophie to say, “Thank you for the reassurances in regards to my virtue,” which led them both into another fit of giggles.

They began the slow walk towards Benedict’s apartment, with Sophie leaning on him for support. But after only a few feet Benedict clearly got tired of hearing Sophie hiss in pain every time her right foot touched the ground, because he said, “This is ridiculous,” and swept her into his arms without warning. Sophie let out a squeal of surprise as her arms instinctively flew around his neck.

She looked up and found their faces were mere inches apart. A contrite look passed across Benedict’s face. “I’m Benedict, by the way.” Sophie marveled. She was torn between the absurdity of the situation - had they really not introduced themselves before he started carrying her like a bride over the threshold? - and a familiar sinking feeling in her stomach. This was the final nail in the coffin proving he did not recognize her. He had no idea they had once shared the best kiss of her life in a secluded corner of a crowded club.

Not sure how else to respond, Sophie said, “I’m Sophie.” A grin spread across Benedict’s face.

“Nice to meet you Sophie. Let’s get the hell out of this rain.” And with that, he hurried down the block and around the corner.

How was he moving so fast on rain-soaked sidewalk while holding a full-grown woman in his arms? Seriously, what did they teach at Yale Business School?

Sophie laughed in delight and delirium as Benedict carried her to the end of the block. He slowed in front of a large and austere looking apartment building. “Will you be ok if I put you down?” he panted, and Sophie nodded. He resumed their original position, with his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side, and they approached the entrance. An elderly doorman with a wiry but sturdy frame held open the door.

“Good evening Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Hey George,” Benedict called. “My friend twisted her ankle,” he explained, as the doorman surveyed the sight before him. Sophie winced at how this must look to George, but of course he made no comment. He did ask if they needed a first aid kit or a doctor, but Benedict waved him off with a thank you and friendly smile. They rode the elevator in silence to the 12th floor. The doors opened onto a small hallway, with one door at each end. Benedict led a hobbling Sophie to the door on the left. He unlocked the door and swung it open, announcing proudly, “Welcome to My Apartment!”

Sophie stifled a groan. She felt like Elizabeth Bennet seeing Pemberley for the first time. It wasn’t exactly a stately mansion, but this was a nice apartment. The front entryway wasn’t a hallway, it was its own room. With doorways leading off of it in multiple directions. Soft, warm, motion-activated light filled the space as soon as they walked in, a lush sage green rug covered the floor, and a large gilded mirror reflected her soaked face back at her. Sophie quickly wiped mascara from under her eyes while Benedict hung his drenched coat in the closet.

“Here,” Benedict said, “let’s get you on the couch.” He assisted her through a doorway into a large living room that had clearly been designed by a decorator. Everything looked modern and chic, but comfy. Very comfy, thought Sophie as she lowered herself gratefully onto the most comfortable couch she’d ever sat on. Benedict fussed over her, propping her ankle up on several pillows and wrapping an impossibly soft blanket around her. He rushed off and returned with a large ice pack and an even larger bottle of Advil.

“I’m impressed you have Advil,” Sophie said. “Most guys don’t have anything in their medicine cabinet besides hair gel.”

Benedict chuckled. “I have younger siblings who have been known to crash here once or twice after an ill-advised high school party.”

“Aaah,” said Sophie. She of course knew Benedict had many siblings - how often had their names appeared on the gossip sites, especially Whistledown, which seemed particularly fond of the Bridgerton family - but she was pleased to know Benedict was willing to take such good care of his brothers and sisters when they needed it.

“I figure it’s the least I can do to provide coffee and painkillers when they wake up. Especially since I do take photos of them and use it for blackmail with our mother later.”

Ok, so maybe he’s not taking that good care of them, she thought with a smile.

Benedict perched on an ottoman in front of the couch. “How’s your ankle?” he asked.

Sophie shifted it under the ice pack and grimaced slightly. “Still hurts, but being off of it is definitely helping.”

“Good, good. Do you need anything else?”

“No, I’m fine,” Sophie said. She couldn’t believe he was making such a fuss over her. Suddenly she looked down at her soaking wet clothes. “I’m sorry I’m getting your couch all wet.”

“Don’t even worry about it. Although I’m sure you're uncomfortable. Do you want me to get you some dry clothes? A shirt, some sweatpants? They’ll be too big on you, obviously, but…”

Sophie blanched at the idea of laying on Benedict’s couch, in his sweatpants and tshirt, and for a moment feared she might lose consciousness just at the thought. “No, God, I’m fine, really.”

“Then how about something to warm you up,” Benedict offered. “Do you want some tea? I’m going to get you some tea.” And before Sophie could accept or refuse, he’d leapt up and run off to the kitchen. Sophie could hear him moving around the kitchen, water filling a kettle, the soft clink of mugs being taken down from a shelf. When he didn’t immediately return Sophie snuggled further down into the blanket and allowed herself to look around the room.

The place was clean, but not pristine, with evidence of Benedict’s personality sprinkled amongst the more professional touches. An empty soda can and an open piece of mail sat on a side table. Another throw blanket was bunched up unceremoniously on an armchair on the other side of the room. The mantle had framed photos - the entire Bridgerton family posed in matching blue and white, Benedict smiling with two of his brothers at an airport, his youngest siblings wearing pjs and sticking their tongues out, two photos that looked like they might be Benedict’s college friends on a hike and at a wedding.

And closest to Sophie, on the coffee table, a worn sketchbook and a handful of pens. She contemplated the sketchbook. It was the first thing in the room that had intrigued her. Against her better judgment, she found herself reaching over and leafing through it. There were some sketches of hands and eyes, the kind one might make in a drawing class. A few pages of pure doodles. An incomplete drawing of what looked to be one of his sisters - possibly Francesca? Two or three landscapes that were most likely Central Park. Then, in the bottom corner of a page full of unrelated small drawings, something caught her eye. It was a sketch of a necklace. The necklace she’d been wearing the first night they met. The one she’d lost at the club that night. She was sure of it. Sophie’s breath caught in her throat.

The kettle began to whistle and Sophie was snapped out of her reverie. She shut the sketchbook and tossed it back on the coffee table. She pulled out her cell phone and pretended to be looking at it just in time for Benedict to stick his head through the doorway from the kitchen.

“Do you possibly want anything… stronger… in your tea?” he asked. Sophie almost said no on instinct. Surely that would delay her inevitable escape and, clearly, she needed to get out of here as quickly as possible. But then she paused. She and Benedict stared at each other for a moment, a strange battle of wills occurring. He raised his eyebrows. She gave in.

“Yes, actually. That sounds great.”

“Right you are!” he said happily. “Two hot toddies coming right up!”

Benedict appeared a moment later with two steaming mugs in his hands - one with the Yale logo, and another which said “World’s Okayest Brother”. Sophie laughed.

Benedict had clearly changed while the water was heating - he was now in dark blue sweatpants and a long sleeved gray t-shirt. As he handed a mug to Sophie and settled back onto the ottoman, she couldn’t help but appreciate the view. She was struck by how intimate the picture was - everything from his tousled, drying hair to his socks to the way he was casually sipping his tea reminded her that he was relaxing in his own home. But all of a sudden, she didn’t feel like an intruder. This felt… nice. Comfortable. Easy.

She was so screwed.

Benedict noticed her phone sitting on top of the blanket. “I’ve got chargers in the side table if you need one. And the wifi password is NY152. Network’s My Apartment.”

“Your wifi network is ‘My Apartment’?” Sophie asked incredulously.

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s my apartment.” Benedict winked playfully and Sophie rolled her eyes and laughed at him. After a moment they lapsed into easy silence.

He surveyed her over his mug before leaning back slightly. He quirked an eyebrow and said, “You know, we’ve met before.” Sophie froze mid-sip.

“You thought I didn’t recognize you, didn’t you?” Sophie didn’t move. Benedict smiled self-deprecatingly. “Admittedly, I didn’t recognize you at first. I was a little too busy trying to rough up two prissy FiDi bros. But the moment I actually took a good look at you…” he expression grew more serious, but still soft. “How could I not recognize you?” He placed his mug on the table and leaned toward Sophie, who still had yet to speak. “You recognized me, right?” She could tell he was mostly joking, but there was a tiny hitch in his voice that indicated somewhere in the back of his mind, this was an actual concern.

Sophie took a deep gulp of the tea (thank God there was whiskey in there), and said “Yes, Benedict Bridgerton, I recognized you.” A huge smile spread across his face, and Sophie felt a matching one spread across her own.

He leaned in further. “I still think about that night. That was the most fun I’d had out in years. Do you ever think about it?”

His gaze flickered down to her lips. Sophie knew she’d never be able to successfully lie. Quietly, she admitted, “I still think about that night.” His gaze grew hungry. He reached over and gently took her mug from her hands, placing it on the coffee table next to his. He leaned forward, closing the gap between them.

“Good.” She was so screwed.

Want more Benedict & Sophie? Read The First Meeting HERE or check out more of our Modern Bridgerton AU HERE.

10 notes · View notes