#Bridgerton fanfiction requests
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aliesbienish · 5 months ago
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Set me on fire
Summary: Eloise Bridgerton x Female identifying reader
Your strong opinions have led you to many places, but none have felt as right as sitting beside a witty brunette at a women’s rights meeting.
—————
The dingy room, nestled above a tavern in the west end of London, was filled with many familiar faces. After almost a year of attending these bi-weekly meetings, you felt comfortable in this crowd. The mixture of gender, colour and age were comforting. Nothing like you see in your day to day life, and you were all the better for it.
A chance led you to these meetings of like-minded people. You accidentally stumbled on your valet, a sweet man around your age of one and twenty, talking about it with a maid from a few households down. Your interest was imeadiately peaked and reluctantly he divulged about the meetings he regularly attended. More convincing and he was letting you read issues of the groups pamphlets. It was world altering. Sure, you views were always rather outside of the standard norms… but knowing you weren’t alone in them was monumentos.
You quickly decided that these meetings were where you needed to be, and sneaking out with a borrowed set of clothes from one of your handmaidens became a normal occurrence. The first meeting was terrifying, feeling so out of place and underprepared. It was a shift going from believing yourself to be radical to realising how naive and conservative you are. However now you felt at home, discussing the newest issues with members that became your friends.
This meeting was your first of the year, your family had just returned from the Devon countryside for the tons new season that started a few days earlier . This year you were reluctantly debuting, despite having no desire for marriage. Your family were late to arrive, missing out on your presentation to Queen Charlotte thanks to your father being stuck in business negotiations with the neighbouring estate in Devon. You were just glad this had allowed you to have time get all your feelings out to friends at this meeting before you say something you would regret to your family, or worse the Queen.
While settling into your seat in the back row as the official meeting began you saw an unfamiliar late comer make her way into the room. The figure was a brunette girl who looked to be of similar age to yourself. She looked as you imagined you did at your first meeting, a mixture of terrified and exciting. You saw her glance at the spare seat beside you, your shawl neatly placed on it. You quickly moved it to your lap and gave her a reassuring smile.
“Thank you” she whispered as she slipped into the seat beside you.
“You’re welcome,” you whispered back, ��I’m Y/N, is this your first meeting?”
“Eloise. It is, how can you tell?”
“I can sense the fear,” you joked causing a look of horror to pass across her face. “I’m kidding, I just attend regularly and have never noticed before. That and you are sporting the same expression I wore the first time. Don’t worry it will quickly change to one of awe. The speakers today are all wonderfully empowering, you’ll love it”
———————-
The meeting passed quickly, and you spent a fair chunk of time sitting side by side speaking to Eloise and answering any questions she had. You quickly realised how much you enjoyed her company, and couldn’t wait to spend some time with the witty young woman. That would have to wait until the next meeting, because unfortunately today was the day of your first ball. Your handmaidens had been poking and prodding you all day to get you ready for Lady Danbury’s ball to officially open the season. You could feel the pressure you father to be at your best behaviour, in fact it seemed to manifest in the pressure on your ribs from your corset.
All too soon you were exiting your carriage on the arms of your father, his tight grip ensuring you could not escape. The ball was in full swing, couples twirling, gaggles of women huddled together gossiping and men clearly rating the appearance of potential partners with drinks in hand. It was everything you dreaded. Your father led you in and was not so subtly pointing out all those worthy of talking to, men with titles from rich families. Eyes looked over you from all directions, raking up and down your figure. You felt like a prized cattle for sale, not a human being. You felt your heart race increase and your breath become rushed as your father introduced you to more men. Just as you thought you would be sick in the middle of the ballroom you got lost in a pair of grey eyes.
You breath calmed as you gazed into the eyes of a stunning woman standing in a gaggle of people near the refreshments. She looked almost shocked to see you, and it took a second before your realised this was the same girl from the meeting. You gave her a gentle smile. She turned to one man and two women beside her and spoke quietly to them, all four giving her a confused but agreeing nod before heading in your direction.
“Lord Y/L/N, it’s lovely to see you again,” the elder lady spoke to your father, the words accompanied by a polite bow.
“Lady Bridgerton, you likewise. This is my daughter Y/N, this is her first season.”
“Miss Y/N, lovely to make your acquaintance. This is my son Vicount Bridgerton and his lovely wife Vicountess Kate Bridgerton”
You bowed at both as they gave you polite smiles.
“Lord Y/L/N, would you allow me to accompany your daughter for a moment. I wish to introduce her to the rest of my family,” Lady Bridgerton asked. Your father nodded, knowing he had little choice unless he wanted to slight a powerful family of the Ton. You gratefully accompanied the three Bridgertons away from your father who went in the opposite direction towards some old business acquaintances.
“We are terribly sorry to bother you Miss, but my sister wanted to get to know her fellow debutant” Vicount Bridgerton said as you all headed towards the refreshments, where the said sister was waiting impatiently. “Miss Y/N, this is my sister Eloise Bridgerton.”
You smiled, happy to see Eloise again even if no one knew you two had ever meet before. She looked beautiful in her baby blue ballgown, but you couldn’t help think she looked just as good at the meeting where she could show her true personality.
“Thank you mother, siblings. I’m going to show Miss Y/N around,” Eloise said as she gently tugged your arm and led you away.
“Since when did she want to make friends?” You could hear the Vicount whisper to his just as bewildered wife.
—————
Eloise silently led you around the ballroom before sneaking outside the French doors as a large group came in. She pulled you down into the dark garden, stopping to pull you onto a bench hidden amongst the extravagant topiaries.
“Y/N, I can’t believe you’re here! I had no idea you were a member of the Ton,” She exclaimed once she was sure no one was around, giving you a tight hug.
“Unsurprisingly I don’t like speaking about it, at the moment it feels like the marriage mart goes against everything I believe in. I feel like I’m being paraded around to be sold to the highest bidder, my feelings never being taken into account” you grumbled. You grounded yourself again by looking into her eyes before whispering “It’s lovely to see you again El,”
“I’m truly sorry, you don’t deserve this. While I understand the pain of being a debutant I at least have the comfort of knowing that my family will not force upon me a marriage I don’t want. We will just have to do our best to find you a love match,”
“I appreciate that El, but I don’t think that will happen. In honesty I can’t see myself ever falling in love with a man,” you whispered baring your soul to her. You knew what her values were, and could only hope that she would support you with this secret.
“Oh,” Eloise whispered back, processing what you meant. “I truly understand”. She tentatively grabbed your hand stroking her thumb softly over your palm. While your heart broke knowing she’d be subjected to the same pain due to a cruel society you couldn’t help the hope that bubbled up.
“You feel it to right? As soon as I saw you today I felt like I could finally breath again,” you bared your soul, praying to every deity she wouldn’t run. For a moment she was silent, and you could feel your stomach drop as you tried to pull your still joined hand away in embarrassment.
“Yes, I feel it,” she finally said softly, tugging at your hand so you’d stay put. “I think I knew what it was when I first met you at the meeting, even as you teased me. The feeling was like how my mother described her first interaction with my father. I’ve been thinking about you ever since. Y/N, I know this may be improper…. but may I kiss you?”
You nodded slowly and lent in, closing your eyes as your lips gently met. Her lips were soft and silky against yours as you joined together. Neither of you fought for dominance, instead the kiss deepened instinctively your tongues dancing against each others. You could almost feel the fireworks, and you quickly realised you’d face whatever the consequences to be able to do this again and again.
Eventually you parted, both breathing heavy but with wide grins over your face. You stayed hands interlaced, side by side for as long as possible.
“Don’t worry, we’ll work something out. I won’t allow you to be separated from me.” She whispered to you as you rested your head on her shoulder.
A moment later she whispered again “do you believe in soulmates?”
FIN
Hi all, hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you think, this is my first Bridgerton imagine so writing more formal conversations was not the easiest to wrap my head around. Hopefully minimal 21st centurisms appeared in our earlier 1800s England setting.
Feel free to send in any requests, I’m particularly looking forward to writing some Reader x Benedict works as well as getting a little more *x rated* because isn’t that half the fun of Bridgerton?!
Ali x
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peachpitfics · 6 months ago
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Endgame
Fandom: Bridgerton
Summary: Six years after you were married off to your Father's friend, you enter a period of mourning. As soon as it is societally acceptable, Benedict Bridgerton is in your foyer with a bouquet of flowers, amending a mistake he made all those years ago.
Length: 3.8k
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Content Warnings: Death, mentions of sex work, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm.
a/n: This is part iii to Wildest Dreams & Loml, requested by anon here! This is the final part!
Bridgerton master list (tag list)
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Your father stood acrost from you, tears in his eyes, which seemed genuine, though they did leave you confused. He was more devastated by your elderly husband’s death than you were – they had been friends a very many years, even with an age gap between them. It was six years since you were married to Lord Roger Howard, six of the most gruelling years of your life, pretending to care remotely for such a wretched man.
“I apologise for this display” Father wiped his tears from his eyes.
“Fret not, he was your friend after all” You replied nonchalantly, your father never caring enough to pay attention to your words, let alone the tone of your voice. He nodded sadly, blowing his nose in his handkerchief and stuffing it back into the waistcoat pocket.
“Your mother is thrilled at the prospect of you coming home” He asserted.
The shock of his audacity displayed in full force upon your face, “This is my home, I will not be returning to your house in Mayfair. I have an estate to care for until its heir comes of age” You shot back at him, far surer and more confident in your own voice than you had been when he bullied you into a match you did not want.
His weepy eyes filled with exasperation, you were not sure anyone had ever spoken back to him in such a manner, it sure looked as though they hadn’t. He stuttered over jumbled consonants, words unforming as they bowled out of his mouth. Never in your young life had you seen your father so beside himself, so baffled.
“Is there something you wish to say?” You asked brashly.
Stern eyebrows grew rigid over his unpredictable eye line, “How disrespectful! I do not recall raising a child with such an attitude! You will do as your father tells you, and your father demands you return to Mayfair” He almost shouted, the corrosive tone of his voice scared you as a child, even just a few years ago; but he had set you on a journey down Dante’s nine rings of hell. No longer afraid of small men feigning omnipotence in comparison to you, your father was no better nor worse than the husband you had just lost.
Your harsh statuette figure remained still and unblinking, unimpressed by his temper tantrum. Sweat formed on his brow line, rage simmering just below the surface. He was a volcano, ready to erupt in exaggerated self-importance. “It is obvious to me that perhaps you are confused. I was married to Lord Howard; I am Dowager Lady Howard. I do not belong to you, nor am I required to hear this nonsense any longer. I have land, and staff to account for. I will be remaining here. Would you like me to escort you out?” You asked calmly, your heart thumping in your chest, prepared for his next outrageous onslaught.
Father shuffled on the spot, puffed-up and fragile, dancing between continuing this argument, or storming out of the room. With a defeated, heavy exhale, he turned swiftly on the ball of his foot and stomped down the stairs. Staff peered around corners, having heard the yelling, worried for your safety.
Making your way out to the landing, subtly triumphant smile on your face, you watched as your father barged past someone standing in the foyer. You could not believe your eyes, unsure now of whether this was a dream or not. Benedict Bridgerton stood tall in the foyer, a big bunch of flowers in his arms, side eying your father as he passed. He looked just like you remembered, just like you imagined him every day since you last saw him. His eyebrows high, his crowning glory, that cheeky smile adorned on his face. There were small changes, delicious smile lines around his mouth and across his forehead. He looked neat, and very well dressed – you thought perhaps he finally had taken some advice from Anthony. The door slammed violently, and Benedict jumped slightly, pursing his lips together in a look of amusement.
“Mr Bridgerton, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” You hummed in soft interrogation.
“I have come to offer my condolences” Benedict tried to wipe the smile from his face.
“Alas, it has been six whole months since my husband passed away. Would you not consider these condolences to be quite late?” You retorted audaciously.
“One… might consider my visit late, yes. However, I do believe I am right on time. I would like to point out that it is but seven hours into a societally acceptable visit for a single man to call on a widow” He feigned checking his pocket watch, nearly dropping the bouquet on the floor, beaming at you as you started descending the stairs. Rushing down the stairs with enthusiasm, you threw yourself into his arms, flowers crushed between your bodies as your kiss landed. There was that sense of delirium you had missed so dearly. Your stomach dropped excitedly, your heart skipped a beat, your smile uncontainable as he pulled you into him tighter and tighter.
“Worried I would not come?” He asked between kisses, his eyes joyously lit.
“Not one bit” You groaned as his teeth took your lip, sucking it into his mouth, “Come upstairs”.
Benedict took your hand in his, leading you to the only place he knew well in this house, your bedroom. It was strange feeling this way after so long, so much glee in such a solemn house. You had not a care in the world at this moment, everything was finally right as it should have been.
Shutting the door forcefully, Benedict grasped at your arms and pulled you toward the bed, shifting behind you to undress you. Not a second later, Benedict gripped two sections of material and reefed them apart, tearing your dress from your body, his clamorous grunt igniting something within you. The fabric fell to the ground around you in a pool, embarrassment telling you to turn to Benedict, but his forceful hands stilled you where you were. Bending you forward, you rested your elbows onto the bed, the sound of his breeches unbuttoning behind you made your mouth water, wonderment tensing your mind.
Kneeling behind you, Benedict pressed his finger to your pussy, sliding it in as slowly as possible, coaxing soft moans from your lips. You so greatly wanted to spin around, eager to see what he was up to.
“God you are so wet and ready for me” Benedict commended, slipping that same finger between his lips, sucking the taste of you off it, moaning in unbridled thirst for you. Benedict’s hands snapped to your hips grasping at generous handfuls, reefing you back into him, running the tip of his cock along you.
He plunged into you without a moments notice, sinking to extremity unexpectedly. Gasping in wretched recognition as your body adjusted, his velvet skin sliding in and out of you, images flashed through your mind of all the times you had done this before. His large hands slid into the pocket between your belly and your hips, thumbs goading you back into him, savouring every thrust back into you. Benedict laced into your hair, firmly pulling you back to meet him, the starving kiss in his arsenal his best yet. That is what it had felt like, these last two years in particular – like surviving in a baron desert, aridity only quenched by a singular person, and that person being unattainable.
Benedict’s hardness sunk into you again and again, particularly rigid on this occasion, you did not recall him filling you quite this much, but every moment was felt like a spiritual experience. His thrusts became vigorous, and he had that look in his eye that you knew all too well, his efforts quickly moving toward fruition. His pelvis slammed into yours with the most gloriously barbaric force, his moans and grunts animating, pleasure absolutely carved throughout his body and face. The eagerness of his movements made you squeal out as he reached deeper places, you hips bounced back encouraging his release inside of you. Benedict’s hands constricted in place; his body unyielding as waves of intensity rolled through him.
Desperately trying to inhale deeper breaths, Benedict rolled onto the bed next to you, stretching out his arms as if he had a stitch in his chest. You giggled at him, lying down too.
“Not as young as you once were?” You chortled.
Benedict flashed you a look of sunny offense, “If I… could breathe… right now, you’d be paying… for that comment…” Benedict chuckled through his panting. You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart thump against your hand, your eyes went wide with awe.
After catching his breath, you laid together in the bed for the rest of the day, slipping in and out of each other and conversation. Benedict was enjoying exploring your body again, as it had been two years and another child later.
“I cannot believe we are finally here” Benedict chuffed, his head resting on your navel, staring up at the ceiling.
“Six years later, my darling. To be fair, we did think we would be apart longer” You remarked.
Benedict paused, fingers circling your forearm wrapped over him, “Y/n… There are rumours circulating the Ton…” He uttered kindly, approaching with gentility.
“I suppose you should know what happened to Roger,” You sighed, more embarrassed for yourself than for the old codfish, “I received news six months previous, that Roger had passed at an establishment… during intercourse with a working woman” You pursed your lips together, trying not to laugh. This was the first time you had explained the situation out loud, to anyone at all. The hilarity was not lost on you, but it felt wrong for the widow to relish the death of her husband outwardly, no matter the kind of man he was.
Benedict was silent for a few more moments, his eyes squinting in reserve, white flashes of teeth peeking through his lips, trying his hardest not to burst into laughter. “At least, he died doing what he loved?” Benedict knew he could hold up the façade no longer, resigning to his impish personality, eliciting a perpetual and free laugh from you. You ruffled his hair merrily, giving playful shoves for saying something so outrageous.
“Perhaps so! It is difficult to explain to the children, not that he had much interest in them anyway. I am hoping they will adjust quickly; they are quite young still” You gave Benedict a gentle smile. You knew he had been waiting to bring up the children, only having seen them a handful of times over the last 5 years.
“When can I see them?” Benedict asked keenly.
“Their nanny took them for a walk in the gardens when I was informed my father was on the grounds… He is not particularly fond of them either” You shrugged, “They will surely be returning soon” You reached out to stroke Benedict’s face, his excitement uncontainable.
Benedict continued to talk about the children, taking guesses at their heights and how they walked. He asked about their favourite foods and favourite colours, he wanted to know everything. More than anything, he had wanted to be there to see them grow and change. He had spent their lives memorising details in letters, their descriptions and little personalities, so desperate to know them. Benedict was recently thrilled to learn that Benjamin had lost his very first tooth at just five years old. He was also filled with pride when you wrote of Beatrice climbing down the stairs for the first time, all be herself – she was three now and while Benedict felt like he had missed so much, he knew how much more there was to come, that he would get to be a part of.
“My apologies, I am just overjoyed to finally be here” Benedict’s eyes watered lightly.
“Do not apologise, they will be excited too, you know they love you” You smiled, wiping away his singular tear. You leant down to place a kiss on his forehead, which he intercepted, stealing yours lips away with his own, warm and full.
Benedict rolled onto his front, lifting your thigh over him and snuggling himself between your legs. His nose rested in your tangle of pubic hair, nudging gently at your slit. Without meaning to, you laid back in anticipatory relaxation, Benedict’s arms wrapping around your thighs.
“You are unreasonably delicious my love” Benedict moaned from between your thighs.
His fingers danced around your outer flesh, tickling and pleasing strokes slowly replaced by his tongue, wet and pleasantly heated. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your lung’s feeling collapse was just moments away. It had been so long, and you were well and truly voracious for him, you had thought about this every single day.
Writhing under his ministrations, Benedict gently lapped at your clitoris, hardly touching it at times. You whimpered in hopeless desperation as he teased and circled exactly where you wanted him to press. There was no doubt Benedict was a connoisseur at this fine art and you were thankful for it. His hands slid up under your behind, lifting you up and into his face, you gave a slight squeal at his strength. The smile in his eyes melted your core, watching the lower half of his face flex and move, buried in your pussy. With every flick of his tongue, every suck of his lips, you could not stop yourself from grinding back onto his face.
Your face strained, trying to conceal the loudest moans these walls would have heard, Benedict’s ravenous tongue lapping senselessly, your knees shaking either side of him. Every moan from Ben vibrated through you, your hand flew violently to the back of his head, demanding more and more of him. Sucking your clit between his lips insistently, his teeth grazing your sensitive nub, Benedict allowed you to orgasm. Your hips bucked against his face, the hot friction of his stubbled face a godly addition to your unleashing.
Remaining still, Benedict’s soft eyes peered up at you, taking in every moment of your completion, committing it all to memory. You could tell just by the look in his eyes that you were a transcendent idol, sent here only for him. His tongue dallied, sensually slipping between your lips a last few times before he released your thighs.
“God, I love it when you do that!” You almost yelled in exotic delight.
“You taste marvellous, truly otherworldly. I could spend the rest of my life tending to you like that” Benedict smiled widely, subtly licking around his mouth to take in the rest of you.
You remained on the flat of your back, drunk on your adoration of him, “I wish you would” You laughed, half joking. It occurred to the both of you at separate times, that there was no longer a need to rush, nor savour these moments. There was nothing to keep you apart any longer, no one to hide from.
~
Benedict suggested bathing before dinner, so you loosely dressed, calling for the housekeeper to fetch the ladies’ maids to sort some baths. Once the both of you were dressed and ready for dinner, you descended the stairs, you arm linked over his, his gentlemanly stature reinstated upon leaving the bedroom.
The children sat on the rug in the dining room, surrounded by the petals of the flowers Benedict had arrived with this morning. Benjamin looked up, playful excitement lighting his face as he noticed the two of you.
“Mama!” He exclaimed, running into your legs, wrapping his small arms around them.
“Good evening my boy” You hummed, bending down to swoop him up into your arms. Benjamin remembered Benedict from visits previously, but he had not been around in some time. He outstretched his tiny hand, offering a handshake to his father. His sweet little teeth biting into his bottom lip, the centre one missing.
“Are you going to be staying for tea?” He asked curiously, the way children do.
“Yes, my small friend, I am,” Benedict took his hand and shook it properly, “My name is Ben, I do not know if you remember me”.
“My name is Ben as well” Benjamin gasped in innocent surprise. Without thinking, you passed your five-year-old son over to his father as they continued to talk, Benedict instinctually taking him on his hip, just like he had Gregory and Hyacinth not all that long ago. You travelled across the room to Beatrice, who gathered handfuls of pink rose petals and threw them into the air above her head, clapping as they rained down upon her. You scooped your smallest child into your chest, meeting Benedict and Benjamin at the table, placing her in her little chair. Her dark curls framing her face in sweet disposition, she waved happily to the strange man at the table. As the staff served dinner, Benedict took his place at the head of the table, with encouragement from you. You could see joy filling him right to the brim, happiness pouring out of him without a hint of regret. This was what you had both worked for. The housekeeper stopped by you on her way back to the kitchen, gently pinching your cheeks just like a mother would, she had not seen you smile like this in such a long, long time.
                                                                ~
The family spent one week together at the estate before Benedict thought it was time to travel to Mayfair, to tell him family of this news. He was not sure how they would handle him marrying a widow, nowhere on his list of objectives was there a point to explain the children and why they looked like him. Benedict had slotted into their lives perfectly and without incident, the children already slipping and calling him father at times. His heart nearly beat right out of his chest with pride.
Arriving at the Bridgerton house, Benedict carried Bea on his hip from the carriage, entering to his family waiting in the entrance hall eagerly awaiting whatever the news in his letters could be.
The first thing Benedict noticed before he had even introduced his family, was his mothers all knowing smile, and the happiness reflected in her eyes.
“Family, this is Lady Y/n Howard, and we are to be married” Benedict announced loudly, a slight echoing ringing through the entrance hall. Anthony and Collins eyes bounced between Benedict and each other, confusion ruling their faces. Everyone else littered them with congratulatory hugs and kisses.
“And who are these darlings?” Violet came forward, kissing Benedict and reaching out to rub Beatrice’s small hands on his chest.
“This is Beatrice, and this young man is Benjamin” Benedict introduced his children to his mother, watching her crouch down to take Benjamins outstretched hand for a handshake.
“How gorgeous! What a fine gentleman” Violet’s smile was sunlight, her demeanour so utterly welcoming. Beatrice leaned out of Benedict’s arms, shuffling herself across to Violet’s chest, snuggling into her grandmother. The both of you knew then that Violet had caught on as she rocked gently from side to side, Beatrice fitting perfectly in her arms as all the Bridgerton babes had before.
“Please, come to the sitting room, I will fetch the tea” Hyacinth directed everybody up the stairs to the second floor. As you and Benedict were about to follow behind the children and the other Bridgerton siblings, Colin and Anthony sequestered your arms away to an adjacent room.
Anthony closed the double doors to the dining room, and benedict slid his hand into yours in solidarity. Colin circled the both of you like a shark in open water, his normally cheery face overrun with suspicion. Anthony frowned pensively in front of you, rubbing his face, well and truly confused.
“This is all happening rather fast, do you not think?” Anthony asked sceptically.
Benedict licked his lips in preparation, “Brother, you know I was in love with y/n all those years ago. We have simply reconnected since the very sad death of her late husband” Benedict portrayed the sympathetic friend, the shoulder to cry on in a time of need.
“I see, and your engagement taking in place exactly six months after the death of Lord Howard is simply a coincidence?” Anthony questioned, logical suspicion stirring up his role as caretaker of the family.
“Yes. Benedict was very considerate, giving me my time to grieve my husband before coming to visit and offer his condolences. It can be quite confronting when one is bombarded with flowers and well wishes all but a day after a loss” You lamented, doing your best to act your part, the sullen widow.
Anthony nodded, having experienced such a similar event after the death of their father Edmund, “I understand, I am glad that you have reconnected with each other after all these years… I do just have one more question, and I will only ask once. I do not wish to offend you, however if I found out either of you had anything to do with the death of Lord Howard, I –”  
“Lord Howard died in the bed of a prostitute” You blurted out, interrupting Anthony quite rudely. He was inferring the two of you had murdered Lord Howard for his estate and potentially as a crime of passion. That was not the case, your true secret seemed to be thoroughly unnoticed by the eldest brother.
Anthony and Colin stood side by side, their mouths gaping at the same time, blinking in uneasy embarrassment. There had been several rumours circulating the Ton regarding the death of Lord Howard, this was not the one they had expected to be true. Anthony snapped back to reality, shutting his mouth and nodding uncomfortably. He gestured toward the door, Benedict pulling you out of the room, heading for the stairs.
“It is strange… Those kids look a lot like Ben” Colin muttered to Anthony as they followed on behind you, not a far distance away. Benedict turned and met Anthony’s gaze in his peripheral as the whole thing dawned on the eldest Bridgerton boy. Dropping your hand, Benedict darted up the stairs, headed for the safety of his mother.
“Benedict, get back here!?” Anthony shouted, the vein in his forehead violently protruding, he stormed up the stairs after Ben.
Colin slipped into the space Benedict left, holding out his arm for you to take, “Come on, I’ll show you to the sitting room. They are going to be a while. At least you will not have to endure two dead husbands… Anthony’s going to kill him before he gets to the altar” Colin chuckled, your arm clinging to his as he escorted you up the stairs.
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plussizefantasia · 6 months ago
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Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade
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Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho
A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.
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Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.
You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.
Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest. 
“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.
A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.
Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her counting of the duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you after attending to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyancith playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe. 
Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you. 
You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly couldn’t done to make you so icy towards him.
“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”
“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brothers pining at the moment. 
“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.” 
“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?” 
“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”
“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”
“That is horrible advice, Ben.”
“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?” 
“I hate it when you’re right.”
“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room
Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.
He wanted her in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that. 
It’s during his musing that he runs into her in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.
“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.
“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”
This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife. 
“That was very kind of you to help her with.”
“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time. 
“Lady L/N may I be frank?”
“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference. 
“What have I done to cross you, for the longest time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why?” 
“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”
“About what?” 
“Our first meeting My Lord.” 
“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.
“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.
Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise. 
“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”
Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”
“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.
“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.
Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.
Part 2
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weirdmorefics · 8 months ago
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Can you make a fic where the Bridgerton sister gets high or drunk, and Colin and Benedict try to get her out of trouble???
A/N- Yes I can! I love this idea especially since I am the little sister with an overprotective big sister.
Readers' Pronouns- She/her
Word Count- 1292
Summary- Reader sneaks a few too many drinks at Daphne's debut ball.
An Average Bridgerton Ball
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"Can this ball get any more dreadful," Eloise groans.
Benedict points to Daphne, "That is going to be you soon so I'd say these events soon will get even more dreadful."
Mother approaches the pair and worriedly asks, "Has anyone seen Y/n? I don't want her to miss Daphne's debut! I am sure she is going to be crowned the diamond of the season the way the queen has been eyeing all night!"
"I do not know Mama, we are not her keepers," Eloise moans.
"I do not envy any man who wishes to court you," Violet's face tightens but Eloise pays no attention to the reaction and Benedict stifles a laugh. "Let me know if you see her, I'll be with Daphne and Anthony," she sighs and walks away.
Shortly after Penelope joins the pair of siblings dragging a giggling Y/n behind her.
"Y/n you must regale to us what is so humorous," Benedict looks at Y/n bemused.
"I regret to inform you but I don't think Y/n even knows why she is laughing," Penelope frowns. "You have to get her out of here before she ends up the headline of Lady Whistledowns next piece."
Colin arrives at the tail end of Penelope's sentence, "Mother wanted me to help you two look for Y/n but it seems you two beat me to the punch... oh my god. Is she sloshed?"
"It appears so," Benedict's smile grows.
"Well, this ball just got a lot more entertaining," Eloise smirks.
"Sloshed, is such a funny word," she giggles. "We should get sloshed more so we can say sloshed all the time," Y/n slurs. "Next round of drinks on me!"
"Y/n sweetie, it's an open bar," Penelope treats her like a child.
"One she clearly made good use of," Benedict raises his glass in awe. "My little sister is growing up."
"I am so grown, you are so right," she slurs. "Mother she doesn't see that, she thinks I'm so immature," she whines. "It's always be more like Daphne, men like well-spoken girls and well-rounded girls, not girls who spend all their days in the horse's stables," she mimics their mother's voice. Y/n points her hand to the sky in declaration, "I'll show her, I'll gather more suitors tonight than Daphne will the entire season."
"I do not think sober Y/n would agree with that decision," Colin rationalizes.
"Sober Y/n is no fun, she lets Mother walk all over her," Y/n frowns. "Sober Y/n needs to learn a lesson or two from Eloise and not care what Mother thinks, but she needed some liquid courage."
"Why is drunk Y/n talking in the third person," Eloise smiles.
"Dissociation my darling sister," she squishes Eloise's face as Eloise rolls her eyes. "You should try it sometime. Like right now I am going to tell Mama that I wish not to be married but horseride competitively and I am not even nervous."
Y/n turns to walk away but drunkenly stumbles nearly falling to the floor.
Benedict luckily catches her arm before she face plants onto the floor, "I have to say I am quite fond of drunk Y/n."
"Well, I am certainly not! Anthony will kill us if he sees Y/n in this state," Colin says worriedly.
"Oh, I do hope so!," Y/n smiles. "Drinks and a show would be fabulous!"
"You've had enough drinks for a lifetime," Colin groans.
"As much as I hate to admit this, Colin is right Anthony and Mother will kill us if they see Y/n in this state. Pen is also right if Lady Whistledown gets wind of this we will never hear the end of it and will be held prisoner in the house until we are to be wed," Eloise frowns.
Colin and Benedict shiver at the idea of being grounded to the house. Y/n is completely unaffected by the conversation and her eyes follow the appetizer plates the servants walk around with. She tries to walk away yet again from her siblings to indulge in the variety of savory foods but is tugged back to Benedict's side with a grunt.
Colin sighs, "There's no way we can get out of here with her without causing a scene. I mean look at her," he gestures to Y/n who is currently trying to see how loud she can belch.
Penelope smiles, "I may have an idea."
"Yes, Pen for the win! I will always be superior in smarts and friends," Eloise quips.
Colin groans, "Now is not the time Eloise. What's the plan Pen?"
"Men can never resist a damsel in distress-" she is quickly cut off by Eloise.
"No Pen where is this going?"
She sighs, "As I was saying men can't resist a damsel in distress and your sister is about to be crowned diamond which makes you a jewel yourself Eloise." Eloise groans in response but Penelope continues on in stride, " Just do some light swooning on the dance floor and the suitors will come flocking."
"Maybe being trapped in the house with Mama forever is better," she grimaces.
"No, no, no. Eloise just think of all those forced piano and etiquette lessons with Mother permanently on loop," Benedict annunciates.
Eloise takes a deep breath and looks Y/n straight in the eyes, "Sober Y/n owes me big time!"
"She makes no promises," Y/n giggles.
Eloise sighs enters the crowd of dancers and makes a big show of fanning herself and loudly announces that she feels very faint. Men of course flock to her offering her a hand or handkerchiefs to fan herself with.
"She is oddly very good at that," Benedict admires.
Colin rolls his eyes, "Come on help me get Y/n out of here she is a lot stronger than she looks."
"I want to watch the show," she whines making herself as heavy as possible as Colin tries to drag her by the arm.
Benedict laughs and throws her over his shoulders since everyone is too busy watching Eloise be uncharacteristically charming.
Y/n kicks her feet wildly, "You are no fun!"
"I pride myself on being the most fun sibling actually but it seems you are taking the crown right now I do think that hangover in the morning will make you give the crown back though," he smiles wickedly and Y/n huffs in response.
"Less bickering more escaping," Colin chastises.
"He's definitely never the fun sibling, " Y/n shakes her head.
Colin growls, "At least I got you out of the ball unnoticed."
"Hate to break it to you but that was all Penelope," Benedict smirks as he sets Y/n down.
Colin rolls his eyes for the millionth time that night but is interrupted by Y/n running off.
"Look pretty flowers," she swoons.
"Man she is fast," Benedict watches.
"Aren't you going to catch her!" Colin points.
"I carried her out here," he defends.
Colin sighs and has to chase Y/n around the garden for a good ten minutes until they successfully push her into the carriage. She passes out shortly after getting into the carriage.
"Well that was certainly one way to perk up tonight's boring ball," Benedict smiles.
Colin shakes his head still out of breath from chasing her around the garden, "You are carrying in the house."
"Am I now? Care to wager? How about an arm wrestle match?" Benedict bargains
"You're on!" Colin says determined. He of course loses the first round and declares best of three and still loses...
Safe to say, Eloise, Colin, and Benedict got their revenge on Y/n by making her torturous hangover ten times worse.
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butterflybuckethat · 3 months ago
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Crybaby
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Hello! Found this sitting in my drafts so I thought I’d post it. I’m trying to return so please be patient with me and I appreciate all of your kind words 💕 My plan is to start fresh and expand from Bridgerton (currently in a bit of a Carmen Berzatto shaped hole — stay tuned!)
Notes: Prince Friedrich x Bridgerton!Reader 
Request: I would like to request prince friederich x Bridgerton reader, cause I love him so much. Preferably something really cute and fluffy or he finds reader crying and comforts her either way I’ll be happy thank you
🦋 Masterlist 🦋
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You were being ridiculous, you knew you were and yet you couldn’t keep the tears from flowing. You cried often, over a wide range of somethings--anywhere from a spilt milk to death. Your siblings teased you often, mostly after you were finished weeping. Mostly. 
It was Daphne’s birthday, and you being the sibling closest to her--in age and affection--decided that you would plan her an extravagant birthday party; a surprise extravagant birthday party. 
It had taken you an entire month to bring it all together and, as far as you could tell, Daphne suspected nothing. You had it all set up with crystal butterflies and floral accents and lemonade infused with exotic fruits. It was shaping up to be an absolute crush with the entirety of ton buzzing in anticipation of the birthday girl’s arrival. You even managed the attendance of Prince Friedrich of Prussia.  
“Where is Daph?” Colin sidled up to you, an eclair already stuffed in his mouth. 
“You mean she’s not in the carriage?”
“How am I do know if she’s in the carriage or not?” 
“Colin,” you huffed, “you were to ensure that she got into the carriage we scheduled for her.”
“Oh.” 
Your vision went blurry as tears began to well, “Colin, how could you?” Despite the frequency, you were still embarrassed by the rasp of your voice. Colin apologized profusely, doing everything but getting on his knees. He could never handle your tears, none of your brothers could; only Benedict, whose response was a roll of his eyes and a half-hearted hug. 
“I will find her, Y/N. I’m sure she is on her way.” People were staring now and you were praying no one could see your tears. You brought your hands to your cheeks, feigning checking your rouge but really soaking the tears in your gloves. “I will fix this,” Colin said, placing his hands on your shoulders. 
You felt the tears welling up again as you watched Colin make a beeline to the butler and could feel Cressida Cowper’s judgmental eyes narrowing on you. You swiped a glass of lemonade off the table and moved into the smaller of the two drawing rooms. It was closed off to the public allowing you to plop down on the divan, take some deep breaths, and press the cool glass to your swollen eyes. 
“Lady Bridgerton?” The room was dark but you couldn’t mistake the accent, it was Prince Friedrich.
“Your highness!” you stood so fast some lemonade spilled onto the carpet. 
“Please,” he gestured for you to sit but remained mostly in the doorway with the door wide open, for propriety’s sake. “I only wanted to check if you were alright.”
“I did not mean to take you from the party,” you demurred. He dismissed that thought with nothing more than a gesture. “I’m certain Daphne will arrive shortly.” 
“I’m more concerned about you.” He stepped into the room, close to the arm of the sofa. You breath caught in your throat. This...was strange. 
You had spoken to the Prince before, of course. Nothing serious but he had his sights on Daphne and, subsequently, you were frequently in close proximity. “I did not mean to cause a scene,” you were a little flustered at this point and were just searching for words to fill the space.
“I don’t think any of the guests noticed...” 
“My tears?”
“Your tears,” he nodded. Prince Friedrich had not moved but you could have sworn he got closer. “I believe this is the third time I have seen them.” 
You started to groan before you forced it to die on your tongue--it was terribly unladylike, especially in front of a prince. “I’m embarrassed.”
“Please, don’t be.” His hand ghosted over your wrist and your blood rushed. 
“I can’t help it. I cry so often my mother used to call me Blue.” You pressed the glass back against your face in an attempt to quell your blush, but Friedrich laughed. It was kind of a deep chuckle; not much but it made you smile. 
“I rather like that, Blue,” he mused. 
“Daphne is here!” someone cried from the ballroom and you rushed over, helping people hide behind tables and walls before hiding yourself. Most of the candles were blown out, dimming the room completely. You, yourself, hid behind a large centerpiece with Friedrich beside you. You were much too enthralled with all your planning coming to fruition to appropriately react to the Prince of Prussia being mere inches from you. 
“We aren’t supposed to enter the ballroom, Colin!” Daphne chastised, “it’s being painted!” You smiled a little at her belief in your ruse. You could feel Friedrich’s eyes on you, just a glance, but all your hair stood on end.
“You’re scared of paint, Daphne?” Colin teased. She would be mortified when she found out he said this in front of so many people. 
“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous-”
“Surprise!” you jumped out, along with the rest of the guests, as the servants lit the rest of the candles. 
“Well done,” the prince whispered, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Now go accept your praise. No more tears tonight.”
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allyjoe755 · 6 months ago
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can someone please send me bridgerton writing requests. please. i want to do it BUT I NEED IDEAS your help would be much appreciated please and thank you
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rajmahal-india · 5 months ago
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Bridgerton Fanfic Request
Hii all! I just finished season 3 of Bridgerton, and was a bit disappointed with the end of part two, and was wondering if there are any AO3 fanfic writers out there that might want to write about a certain fiction idea I have? It would be about Colin, after Pen and his fight after the Whistledown reveal, and him saying that she entrapped him in the next episode, where be basically travels back in time to season 1 as either A) an older version (so younger Colin still exsists in this time lime) and maybe tries to prevent whistledown from ruining Marina/and alot of the other stuff Pen wrote, and then he travels back forward in time to see what his life would have been like, only to see that its awful and he regrets everything/tries to change it back (maybe he's married to Marina in this life, and Pen is married to someone else?), but whatever happens it ends in a Happily Ever After (could even be spicy if that's something you'd like to include)!
Or B) Angry Colin travels back in time to season 1 (there's no younger version of himself in this timeline, it's just him) and he goes through the motions and works out his feelings for Pen (also ends in HEA, also maybe spicy)
Of C) Some other Angry Colin travels back in time fic that's angsty and spicy and ends in an HEA😂
D) A fic that takes place at the end of episode 8 where Pen talks about annulment and either 1: Actually tries to go through with it (panicked angsty Colin ensues) or 2: Something else like that lol but ends Happy and they're together and in love
Just a thought and hopeful request, I think it would be so fun to watch him realize that while Pen wrote some bad things it all came from a place of love for his family and maybe watch him panic a bit for that entrapment comment lol
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midnightstar-90 · 11 months ago
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Fanfic Idea #2
To all my Bridgerton writers,
I have another brilliant idea.
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What if Simon had a sister.
Mhmm. Okay.
I need you to stay with me now.
He doesn't find out until after he marries Daphne when he goes through his father's finances. He sees a small yet significant amount of money going toward an unknown individual. Simon really wants to know who this person is so he investigates only to find out it's his sister.
His father, after the death of Simon's mother, grieved differently than most and accidentally knocks up a young maiden from the town. Come to find out that the OG Duke of Hastings did have a soft side and provided for the girl and his mother.
When Simon first learns about this, he is furious. But with the help of Daphne, Simon decides to bring the girl to his estate and allow her to stay there so that they can get to know each other. Reader or OC (whichever) doesn't care for money, and she intends to make sure everyone knows, no matter how many times they say otherwise.
Please, I would really like to see what you guys come up with. Do as you please. I would love to read.
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letmelickyoureyeballs · 6 months ago
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Hello to anyone who sees this! I am a beta reader looking for some more fics to help with. If you are interested please refer to this post first for some more in depth details about me and how I can help before dming me. I am fine with pretty much everything, though I would prefer fandom fics instead of original works and novels.
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skyrigel · 6 months ago
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Hi do you take requests for Anthony bridgerton
Ofcourse dearest gentle reader !
Please send request for ton's most eligible bachelors,
Anthony bridgerton
Benedict bridgerton
Colin bridgerton
Also, Eloise, cuz I love her <3
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aliesbienish · 5 months ago
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Could you do Benedict Bridgerton with wife pregnant!reader? She was panicking about something and didn't stop rambling the moment she saw him. He surprises her by kissing her, effectively silencing her and she melts against him. She knew even if the world would end, hw was the only one who could calm her down. Just something fluff and maybe a little suggestive 👀 Thanks!! :))
Oh baby
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Hi anon, hope you enjoy. Probably went a little hard on the angst and a little lacking in the suggestiveness... it got away from me. xx ---------
The doubts kept creeping in today, nothing was able to distract you from your thoughts. Your book laid face down on the window seat, your journal stayed blank. Instead of being productive, here you were just staring out the window bringing yourself to a panic. Everyone said the reservations were normal, and logically you knew that they were unfounded. But the rumination going on seemed to have kicked logic out the window.
Becoming a mother suddenly seemed like an occasion you couldn't rise to. All the ways you could screw up your poor child, which your brain was unhelpfully bringing up in spades, seemed daunting. Suddenly being trusted to keep a little human alive without any proof of competence was ludicrous. So you had spent the day stuck in your thoughts staring out your bedroom window.
And now you need to get them out before you exploded. Ready to share you headed to your husbands studio down the hall, not bothering to knock. He was engrossed in a painting, streaks of colour covering what was once a white shirt.
"Hi Honey. How are---" Benedict began before you interrupted with word vomit.
"I don't think I can do this Ben. Maybe I am not fit to be a mother, I'm too selfish. I have never had to look after anyone but myself, no poor child deserves a mother like that."
"Babe, what --"
"I have absolutely no clue what I am doing. What if I hurt them? Or am inpatient with them?"
"Sweetie plea-"
"I'm so scared I will be a bad mum." You sighed, ready to spell out exactly all the ways you thought that might be the case. Instead you were updated by a soft peck on your lips and a gentle hand stroking you cheek. Benedicts soft lips pulled back and he rested his forehead against your own.
"Honey, you are the most loving, kind person I know. You were made for this role, I just know it. You will meet our baby and the love will overflow and I will be in awe with you. Our baby will be soo very lucky to have you as their mum,"
"But what if I don't know what to do?"
"Then we find out, we are surrounded by loving, strong mothers. We can reach out to my mum, or Daphne, or Kate. You are not alone." Another stroke to your cheek from Benedict and you could finally felt like you could breathe again.
You nodded gently against Benedict's forehead before grabbing his hand from your check, taking it in your own and moving it down to your swollen belly.
"I love you Ben. You will be an amazing father."
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peachpitfics · 6 months ago
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Cruel Summer
Fandom: Bridgerton
Summary: Following your romp with Benedict Bridgerton in his art studio, he asked your brother for your hand! Now you're on your honeymoon, and you're getting a little bored, posing for him. A lady must find ways to amuse herself!
Length: 2.1k
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Content Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), Penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex, light bondage, food play.
a/n: This is an anonymous request for a continuation of 'Guilty as Sin'.
Bridgerton master list (tag list)
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Benedict Bridgerton escorting you to view his artwork, at his private studio, was just the beginning of your story. After sneaking around behind your family’s backs for a small while, Benedict gathered enough courage to ask your eldest brother’s permission for your hand. This seemed strange to the y/l/n family, not one of them had ever seen the two of you together, which showed how much attention was paid to the middle child. Benedict made sure to ask you in the Bridgerton drawing room, just before family tea, for everyone to see. He made such a big to-do, confessing his love to you, before every member of the Bridgerton family in attendance. It felt particularly safe there, amongst people who took interest in who you were as a person.
It was bittersweet to have siblings who offered their time, their attentions, and their hobbies freely. You learned so many new things from each of them, from pall-mall, to sewing, even horse riding.  In six months, you were married and moved into the Bridgerton house for the meantime, until after your honeymoon. You would never outright tell Benedict you did not want to move out, but he felt it, he knew.
“My love” Benedict whispered, shaking your shoulders gently. Honeymooning in Paris was something the two of you had instantly agreed upon. So far, two weeks of sleeping late, making love, and eating copious amounts of divine food was your only concern. Of course, there were a lot of other lovely things Benedict had planned for your honeymoon – river boat rides and romantic dinners, every moment between locations filled with fine bread, wine, and cheese.
“Yes, my love?” You grumbled, rolling away from him, clearly having not had enough sleep.
“You must wake up, it is midafternoon!” Benedict exclaimed with a chesty laugh, rolling you back into him and tickling your sides. You howled with laughter, pushing him away playfully, leaning up to distract him as only you knew how. His lips were warm and wet against your own, seductive, and luscious.
“You must come downstairs! The housekeeper has left us a feast and I wish to paint my gorgeous wife” Benedict slid his hands around your naked body, lifting you out of bed as you groaned.
“Again?!” “My darling, I’ll be painting you until death takes me” Benedict chuffed, sliding sideways between doorways and down the stairs to the sitting room.
“What if death takes me first?” You smirked back, figuring you had him cornered here.
“I have made God promise I am to go first. And even so, I’ll have every detail committed to memory and these paintings and sketches of you now to keep me company” Benedict squeezed you in his arms, he didn’t like to joke about parting ways, in any sense. It was his truest nightmare, his deepest fear.
Benedict set you down in the sitting room and gestured to what he and the house keeping staff had readied. Paint, canvas, a staging area - littered around the room were bowls of fresh fruit, bottles of wine, candles surrounded by plates of cheese, oil, and bread. You relaxed back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you, cupping your breasts sweetly. You giggle a little, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He nodded to your position for the rest of the day, a chair with the back faced to a very high window, casting a streak of sunlight down upon the spot.
There you sat, for hardly an hour before your mind began to wander, circling Benedict in your mind like a shark in open water. You had learned to become comfortable being nude for long periods of time these days, however Benedict had learned nothing of your persuasion or power when your attentions were dashed. Your movements started slowly, daintily taking your hands to your knees, and spreading your legs wide upon the chair. Resting a little, relaxing your back and cupping your own breasts. Your fingers gently grazing your nipples. But nothing, no attention from your husband. He sat close to his canvas, squinting into the detail of his work, his realm of perception clearly inhibited. With a huff and a light moan, you continued to palm at your own breasts, fingers trapping your nipples in a pulling motion- you decided to pretend Benedict wasn’t here. Suddenly, taking notice, you watched as his brush left the canvas, his mouth hung open a little and he removed his glasses, almost tossing them to the floor.
“What are you doing, darling?” He mumbled, swallowing hard. Your hands ran down your mid-section, over your belly and down your thighs sensually, soft mewls slipped from between your lips. Benedict loved the sounds you made.
“I’m just amusing myself, continue on with your painting my dear” Your replying comment was nonchalant in the best way. Benedict almost looked offended that you would suggest he could go back to painting.
“How do you suppose I paint, while my wife ravages her own body before me?” He blinked at the audacity of you.
“Well, dear one, this is what you have chosen for this afternoon’s activities… Now, you must endure” You smiled, sliding your hand between your legs, dipping your finger in the wet warmth there. Benedict shuddered, wishing any part of him were exchanged with your finger.
If there was anything you had learned about Benedict in the last six or seven months, it was that his desire for you was consistent and all encompassing. Benedict watched on as your fingers circled your clitoris, you moaned and exhaled gently - his paint brush never did return to the canvas. Beads of sweat formed on his brow line, the hot, French summer finally taking its toll in the late afternoon. You reached to the small stool next to you, extracting the tiniest jar of honey. You looked into Benedict’s eyes, holding the jar above your body, dangling your head back and pouring a steady stream of honey over your chest. The sun glistened, reflecting little pools of light off your sticky, sweet skin.
Taking your finger, you swept up your belly from your navel, placing your finger on your tongue in clear view of him, and that was his very last straw. Benedict threw his paintbrush to the ground, thrusting himself up and out of his chair, to march across the room to you.
“What do you think you are doing, wife?” Benedict’s voice rasped, his eyes were so dark, the colour had all but gone.
“Playing, my love” You replied cheekily, sucking another nip of honey off your finger. He all but growled watching your finger slip between your lips, his breath quickening in sheer lust for you.
“Are you punishing me for getting you out of bed?” Benedict’s face was so close now, his nose tip to tip with yours. There was such tension in his jaw, his teeth clenched hard in his fierce need of you. You fluttered your lashes back at him, refusing to answer with your words.
“Do you have even a semblance of an understanding of what you are doing to me? This is unbelievably cruel,” He breathed heavily down on you, desperation flooding his body and adrenaline surging behind, “You can’t begin to imagine the things I want to do to you right now” His stubble gliding across your ear and cheek, making you shudder.
“Show me then,” You challenged, “You are my husband after all”.
Benedict’s hands slowly moved to his shirt, shedding it, and throwing it somewhere behind him. He acted with a sureness and a strength you hadn’t yet experienced, but it was drawing you in. Undoing his pants, Benedict took his hard member into his hands, stroking himself against your chest, lathering it in honey. His other hand wove into your hair, tangling the perfect hold, bringing you forward.
“Oh. Goodness. Seems I’ve made quite a mess of myself… Wife, help me clean it up” He smiled smugly down at you.
 Something feral, untamed, was unleashed inside you, your eyes darkening, “Certainly, my lord”. As your tongue reached out to meet his tip, his head lulled back in pleasure, his hand still wrapped around the base of him. Your lips parted slowly, encasing his first inch, and swirling your tongue around to suck the honey from him. Benedict exhaled headily, his breaths deep, but quick with the slightest grunt mixed in. The way he sounded, even now, made you wetter and wetter.
There was something maliciously keen in Benedict’s eyes as he watched from on high, your pretty mouth sucking all the honey off him and then some. His body gently rocked forward, his hand heaving your head forward, onto him in a more perverse manner. His head hung back in greedy caution, grasping to the very last straws of his gentlemanly nature as you sunk to the base of him, your tongue wriggling slyly underneath.
His fingers grew taut in your hair, reefing you backwards. His laugh was low, both impressed and challenged by your ministrations. In the next moment, Benedict had hauled you up and over his shoulder, he was charging up the stairs, mad with temerity.
Entering the bedroom, he threw you down on the bed, scrambling for any piece of material in reach, he began ripping. Four pieces of silk fabrics in his hands, he loomed over you in profound ownership. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, Benedict taking each wrist and ankle, tying them to each to their respective corner post of the bed.
“There” He stood, hands on his hips, proud of his work, “There’ll be no more of that”. Clearly touching yourself had had a dire effect on Benedict’s work ethic.
Kneeling between your thighs, his naked body unjustly out of reach, Benedict’s supercilious smile sick with goofy dominance. He thumbs over your folds, his finger descending, extorting whines of pleasure you never knew existed within you. Broad strokes of the most painful, unapologetically evil gratification. Benedict’s tongue flicked over his lips hungrily.
“I need you” The words escaped you violently, the thrill of his touch, his charming smile becoming all too much for you. He ignored you and continued another moment or two, reducing you to a begging mess beneath him.
“Shall I oblige you, my marvellous bride?” His grin was jubilant and all knowing, his hands came down on your wrists, pressing them into the bed. Benedict’s brutal, familiar kiss sown into your lips permanently, as he pushed inside of you with surprise.
“Y/n” He groaned, growled with unrepentant lust. Your eyes cast wide, the length of him stretching you mercilessly while he thrust in and out. His villainous face claiming your entire consciousness as he used your body to his pleasure, decadent facial expressions, and damnable sounds he was delivering straight to your right ear.
“You feel unimaginably perfect” Benedict groaned, your moans joining in alongside his.
Hands grasping for silk to hold onto, you longed for your own release, grinding your hips back against Benedict’s. His movements became more ferocious, keeping up with the sounds you were making. Frenetic energy began to move through your body, your ravenous thirst for him finally quenched. Every muscle in your body engaged in vivid contortion, Benedict pressing into you as deeply as he possibly could before his own body found its own powerful release.
Covered in sweat and honey, you laid tangled together for a moment before Benedict recalled your wrists and ankles were tied. He chuckled with giddiness, sitting up to admire his knots.
“You look fantastic like this, perhaps we should do this more often” He suggested sweetly. His thumb caressed the side of your face, your panting, tired body unable to give a response. Benedict littered your face and neck with loving pecks.
“We could be one person and I still would never be close enough to you. No amount of time with you will ever satisfy me. You are the centre of my world” Benedict whispered gently. Every day you were reminded of the intoxicants his poetic mind dabbled into every sweet thing he said to you.
In another instant, Benedict had sprung from the bed, running downstairs. You laughed, thinking he must be returning with some of the food the housekeeper had left strewn about his romantically planned afternoon. Instead, Benedict returned with a new canvas and his implements. Your mouth fell open all on its own, blinking furiously in his direction as he set himself up off the side of the bed.
“If you could just stay there, like that, that’d be great!” Benedict’s grin, excruciatingly exquisite, and concocting. He held himself with such pride in his agendum, cockiness seemed to fill the room in a potent manner.
“BENEDICT!?” You squealed, tugging frantically on his bindings, your laughter filled with rich resolve.
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tagging: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr //
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plussizefantasia · 7 months ago
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More Body, More Money
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Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader
Word Count: 1.1k
warnings: Allusion to smut towards the end, references to a female body and that body being bigger
an: holy shit sorry for disappearing for so long. I make no promises as to when I'll come back as I seem to have a habit of breaking those. I've been in a Bridgerton mood recently though and typed this on my phone in like an hour so no promises that it's all that good. I will say though that I've been working on a request recently and it's currently at 4k and counting which is by far the longest fic I've ever written and I'm not even to the good part yet. I've also finished outlining the rest of the parts for my Kili x reader fic. I think that's it though, thanks for reading this far if you did and for putting up with my bs.
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“Darling, could you come here a moment?” Your husband called from his desk. Recently you had taken to reading while lounging on the couch in his study. It was a great way to spend time with your busy husband while also letting him get his work done. 
You didn’t exactly know what he was working on at the moment but apparently, your presence was needed to solve whatever issue he had stumbled upon. It wasn’t until you got closer to his desk that you noticed the receipts and ledgers sprawled across his desk. He was updating the families' books and tracking the spending that you and the rest of his family had done that month. 
“Yes, my love?” You moved to rest your hand on his back and traced it across his shoulders and on his neck. It was as if you two were magnets, unable to keep apart for very long. If you were close enough then you would feel your hands gravitating towards him. And if the way his arm moved to rest on your back as well, he had the same urges when in proximity to you. 
“I’ve noticed something odd in the charges from the modiste.” Anthony handed you the papers. Both you and Eloise had gone to the modiste at the beginning of the month to be fitted for some new gowns to prepare for her second season in the marriage mart and your first season as the Viscountess. 
“I’ll admit to not being the most knowledgeable about gowns and other frivolities my love, but is it normal for the cost difference to be this large? I mean when Ben and I get new suits the price is almost always similar.” He pointed to the two prices listed on the bill from Madame Delacroix. 
You didn’t know how to respond to this, you knew the reason behind the price difference between yours and Elioises dresses, of course, it was something that you had thought of already. After all, it was the same reason that your younger sister always got more gowns than you every season that the two of you attended growing up. You were larger, and as the modiste you had gone to grow up with had said “More body means more fabric means more money.” more money that your father had deemed unnecessary so you had only ever gotten one or two new dresses while your sister would be fitted for five or six of the newest and most flattering styles.
But how could you explain this to Anthony? That your dresses cost more than his sisters because you were bigger, and that meant more money.
You knew Anthony loved your body, he worshiped it often in fact but there was a difference between getting lost in the softness of your embrace and seeing the real-life sometimes the financial consequences of living in a bigger body.
“Oh, Anthony, it is uh- just a matter of resources I suppose.” 
He raised a brow at you. “I’m not sure I understand. What do you mean by resources?”
“Well dear husband, you and your brother are very similar in height and build which means the two of you have very similar resource usage, whereas myself and your sister are quite different in the… resource usage department.”
“My love, I need you to speak to me as if I am an idiot.” 
You deeply sighed and prepared yourself to have the conversation that you had been trying and failing to get out of. “Eloise is small, therefore it does not take as much fabric to make her dresses, whereas I am quite well endowed and my dresses require more material. More body means more fabric means more money it is as simple as that.” 
“That is preposterous, are you both not getting dresses?” His tone was getting more defensive, and it warmed your heart to know that he was willing to get upset at the simple fact that Madame Delacroix had charged you more because your dress was bigger. You had expected him to be embarrassed, and deep down somewhat afraid that he would realize that he had signed himself up for these extra expenses for the rest of his life by marrying you. 
“Well darling, think about it, would you expect to pay the same amount for a child as you would for yourself? Do you not pay more for your suits than you do Greg’s?”
“No, I see your point darling.”
“That is all this is my love, different sizes of clothing cost different amounts. If it is a problem I can just see about getting some of my old gowns altered to make them somewhat nicer for the new season, that way you would not have to spend as much.”
“What? No. Darling, this is not about the money, I was merely worried that that woman had tried to take advantage of you, charging you far more than Eloise for the same thing. I couldn’t care less about the money. In fact, I think you should get ten more gowns made, show everyone in the Ton that I am married to the most voluptuous, sensual, and desirable woman in the world.” He pulled you closer to him so that you were standing in between his spread knees, you still standing over him as he leaned back in his chair.
Anthony began training kisses up and down the arm that he had grasped within his hand. Turning your wrist over so that he could place one at the center of your palm. 
“I do not need ten new gowns, Anthony, that is far too much.” You giggled and protested, feeling more enamored with the man you married with every word out of his mouth.
“Perhaps I shall buy you ten diamond necklaces then so that I can have an excuse to stare at your chest as often as I’d like.” You snorted and gently smacked the back of his head. “Anthony Bridgerton, that is scandalous talk and you know it.”
“Nothing is scandalous between husband and wife, especially when the two are alone.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and lifted the corners of his lips into a sultry grin, one that had your knees feeling weaker by the second. 
“All I really need, dear husband, is you.”
A smile that you could only consider adoring spread across your husband's face.
“And I you, my love.”
“No Anthony, I need you.”
His grin turned to a full-blown smirk spreading across his face, “Well, what the Viscountess needs she gets…” 
;)
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blkgirl-writing · 4 months ago
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REQUESTS OPEN!
Will be reblogging some NFSW prompt lists, i'd absolutely LOVE some suggestions from that, and your own ideas! I'm putting a poll down here for reference as well, who do you want the most? I did this before but wanted to add Bridgeton to test the waters, especially after we now know Benedict will be our next bachelor! And I'm already working on a very steamy Billy butcher smut (whoops), so I'd love inspo!
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weirdmorefics · 5 months ago
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Could you pls do a fake dating fic with Colin bridgerton? Tysm xx
A Life Long Scheme
A/N- Sorry for the delay! I really do have the fanfiction writer curse! I say that every time but I mean it! I got my appendix out and rode in an ambulance. They don't even play music in them FYI.
Readers Pronouns- She/Her
Word Count- 2,512
Summary- You convince Colin to fake court you to gain the attention of other suitors but jealousy consumes Colin.
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I knew I would have a hard time finding a suitor from a young age. My family may be wealthy enough to attend balls but certainly not enough for a sizable dowry for each of their children. I grew up competitive trying to prove myself worthy even if I came with a small dowry. My siblings relied on their looks but I was determined to be the best at everything. I will treat coming out like I do life competitively. As the eldest, I must set an example.
I was lined up with the others coming out into society this year. They all nervously played with their clothes and looked to the floor. I too felt like doing that but I kept my emotions bottled tightly in my chest and held my head high. We all took our turns bowing in front of the Queen she looked completely unbothered by us, dare I say bored.
I was last in line she looked me up and down and said, "I am unsure if anyone qualifies as a diamond this season."
I can't fight back the sharp inhale I take, I can physically feel my heart launch its way into my throat. I feel as if I may hurl as she gets up and walks away escorted by her guards. I look around at others visible shock. I can't help but feel the Queen just left because of me. I mean I was the last one. I need to do something! I can't fail already I just came out into society!
My night was filled with pacing and plotting. There has to be a way to impress Her Majesty. My Mama tried to comfort me but Father quickly told her there was no point in speaking to me when I was like this. I hate to admit but he is unfortunately correct. Once I am in a thought spiral there is no getting out. I thought of other seasons for most of the night as I lay in bed. What did they do to gain the Queen's attention? The most notable season of late would have to be Daphne's. I can't recall the last time The Ton has seen a marriage done with such haste before. She had a massive amount of suitors after her though that was only after The Duke's appearance.
The idea hit me suddenly I launched out of bed, put my carpet slippers on, and ran out of the house. I am lucky my family sleeps so soundly because I am sure I sounded like a horse trotting as I ran through the house. The Bridgerton manor is right next to ours, so close in fact that I grew up playing games with all the Bridgertons. Colin has always been my dearest friend (even though Mama always told me a male friend was improper). I knew Colin would go along with my plan, we have been scheming and pranking since we were children. This should be no different! It unfortunately hit me how late it was when I stood in the darkness of the Bridgerton Garden. I was here now I refused to backtrack just because it was an untimely hour.
I used the bushes to help guide me to Colin's familiar window. Once there I gathered tiny pebbles and started ricocheting them off his window. It did not take him long to wake and open the window with a messy bedhead and a lit lantern. His face instantly flushes at the sight of me.
"My god Y/n what are you doing out here in this state!" He shouts
I follow his gaze to my clothes and feel my face heat. My god, I did not think this through as I stood in front of Colin Bridgerton's window in the dark, in my silk nightgown. I will see this through the damage is done. "I have a plan," I smile.
He sighs and rubs his forehead, "Oh no… you are lucky my sleeping schedule is still askew from traveling abroad. Now get inside before someone sees you!"
I met him in the drawing room and he refused to look me in the eye, "So what is so important that you have decided to grace the house with your presence at this ungodly hour."
"I am here to present you with a proposition," I clasp my hands as he finally looks at my face suspiciously.
"And what might this proposition be? I can assume nothing good," he questions.
I roll my eyes and pace as I recite my plan."As you know Daphne was utterly suitorless during her season courtesy of Anthony. However, the moment a Duke entered the picture she had men competing for hand. They could not care less about Anthony's interventions."
Colin nodded confused, "Your point?"
"My point is I need competition! So I propose that you pretend to court me! If you will? I know you are aware of my Papa's financial situation… I mean the whole ton is after Lady Whistledown published his unfortunate business decisions and his one-too-many daughters for a dowry. None of this will matter if I can get a suitor who loves me and will help my family but that can't be done if I can't attract a suitor!" I continue to pace as Colin looks entirely unsure of what to make of this situation. I take a deep breath, "So what do you say?"
Colin looks at me with puppy dog eyes, "Of course Y/n. You are my dearest friend. I must know why you decided to discuss this so late at night in your…" he flushes again and looks to the ground. "In your nightgown."
I suddenly became all too aware of my attire and became a stuttering mess, "the conversation was of utmost importance the time of day and clothing choices have nothing to do with it!"
Colin smirks, "I see."
"I must save my Papa's business if not for him but for the chance my sisters will get to marry for true love and not for financial gain," I sigh. Colin's eyes which were once teasing turn to sadness, "Do not look at me like that Colin. I don't need your pity, I need your help."
He nods and straightens his posture, "Of course Y/n. Of course, I will help."
I quietly snuck back into the house after speaking to Colin. The plan was set in stone he would be the first dance on my dance card and we would round up potential suitors together. We were joined at the hip for every event and I purposely chose the busiest times to promenade so the most amount of suitors would see us.
I soon began to gain the attention of many suitors and even had many coming to my house to call on me! Mama was so proud I was so happy to take her mind off the situation with Papa.
Mama pulled me to the side of the drawing room, "Maybe hanging out with the Bridgerton boy will help you! Maybe their fortune will rub off on us!" I was proud to inform her I was to promenade in the park today with Colin. It was odd to see her smile with excitement instead of pale at the thought of her daughter spending her time with a man who never planned to court her. I wish she wasn't only proud of me when I wasn't doing something that benefited me in finding a wealthy suitor. It's no matter though, I will do anything to make her proud, and it feels like I'm finally doing it. She spent the whole morning with me to find a suitable dress for my outing.
Colin arrived promptly at the time we set previously and accompanied me to the park. As we promenaded I felt many eyes on us they truly believed Colin would court the daughter of a family barely escaping financial ruin. It is truly almost humorous how easily we have swayed the ton.
"It is truly working Colin! Mother is so proud that I will be the one to save my family's reputation. Such a shame she picked such a layered gown for one of the warmest days of the season," I whisper and fiddle with the seams of my dress.
Colin sighs, "How many suitors are you getting from this Y/n? They can't all have honorable intentions given your beauty and your family's standing."
I roll my eyes, " Why Colin Bridgerton are you jealous? I would not think you are the type. Do not worry you will always be my dearest friend. No husband could replace you."
His face turns serious, "I am just worried. I hope you are doing this for the right reasons and not for the sake of your Mama… and I am most certainly not jealous."
For someone who said he is certainly not jealous he didn't sound quite certain. That, however, is not what distracted me. "You think I want to marry a man not for love but purely for financial gain? It is every woman's dream to marry for love! We can't all have the privilege to do so! Especially one born into a family with a gambling addict for a father and a mother too frail to defend herself. My mother has been preparing me for coming out since I was a child! This is my job as the eldest! To secure a good future for my siblings so perhaps they get the opportunity to marry for love as I will never get to!" I back up as if I may burn from Colin's shocking gaze but I still point a finger at him, "And the fact that you don't already know this Bridgerton is having me question if we ever truly were friends! Perhaps all those travel stories in your head leave not much room for anything else."
I storm away from the Bridgerton, I think after his initial shock he calls for me but my rage prevents me from looking back to see if it was true or a cruel trick of my ears. It was perhaps not the greatest idea to run off from a suitor with no chaperone. Maybe I wouldn't have found myself in such a precarious situation if I had chaperone. I find myself cursing my father in my head for his terrible gambling habits that prevent anyone from wanting to associate with the likes of us. Therefore getting me into this mess in the first place.
"Y/N L/N, we have been watching you for quite some time. Your father never described your intense beauty but how could one put it into words?" The seedy man approached me.
I smiled politely, "Thank you! May I inquire how you know my father?"
"Oh darling I think you know why we are here. I mean the whole ton knows about your father's habits shall we say." He smiles menaceingly and I think to myself of course this has to do with his damn gambling habits.
I back up in case I have to make a quick escape and he unfortunately catches on. He grabs my wrist to keep me in place, "We have been very patient with your father. Given his position in the ton, we thought we could be lenient with his payment schedule. However, it turns out we were mistaken. What is more shocking is the fact that his daughter thinks she has a chance of finding a suitor with no dowry."
"Sir please unhand me," I try to pull away from his grasp.
"You think being in the company of the Bridgertons will help your family situation? Perhaps we could take you as payment? You do draw a lot of attention despite your social ruin. We could use you to bring more men to the establishment," he smiles sinisterly.
I yank my hand away even harder out of fear but his strength still outmatches mine, "Why would I ever help you put more families in financial ruin!"
He laughs, "Darling you think you have a choice?"
His eyes narrow at something behind me and I hear Colin's voice, "I believe the lady asked you to unhand her."
"This does not involve you, sir," he growled.
"You see it is my business when you have your hands on my betrothed, Colin growls back.
My eyes furrowed in confusion. He had been fake courting me of course but we certainly did not discuss a fake betrothal.
The man laughs yet again, "I read in Lady Whistledown that you were courting her but the fact a Bridgerton would sink to the likes of the L/N family."
I took in a shallow breath and Colin growled in response. This situation was going quickly downhill.
"You will not besmirch the lady's name! Now I won't ask again unhand her!" Colin shouts.
"Whatever you say," he smirks and tosses me to the ground. Colin's grimace seems to only encourage the man more, "I'd honestly prefer to use her to replace her father's debt but if you want to drag your family name down with her so be it." He walks away with a peppy jaunt in his step and I glare at him from the ground.
Colin quickly helps me to my feet, "I would have dueled him right here and now if I was not in the presence of a lady."
I brush the dirt off my gown, "It's fine. I'm fine. I will handle it."
"No, you will not! you will not take a step towards that insipid man," he yells.
"Well, Colin you don't really have any choice in that matter! Do you? You are just fake courting me. Or fake betrothing me now? I don't know. I have lost track honestly!" I rant.
His face turns serious, "Y/n I care for you! I would forsake my whole family name for you! You think I do not burn with rage every time I see a new man attempt to call on you after I started court you! I noticed your beauty and your smarts before any of these men did! The fact that they only noticed you once another gentleman entered the picture is disgraceful! I will always notice you Y/n! I will never let your family go through this! I hope to be a love match for you and help your family."
Tears collect in my eyes. As the oldest sibling I've never been the one that was cared for but the one that does the caring. Colin's words made me feel full. I try to tease but it comes more out as a sob, "Mr. Bridgerton are you proposing to me."
He smiles, "I think it is about time I finally proposed to you after you always proposed your schemes to me. So what do you say Ms. L/N? Would you like to continue proposing schemes to me for the rest of our lives?"
I nod aggressively smiling. There was no stopping the happy tears now.
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theregencywriter · 9 months ago
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hello could you please write something cute for colin? y/n is kind of a wallflower, she loves to bake (even though that’s not really a norm in that time period) she loves to eat just like colin, she never thought a bridgerton would be interested in her
Recipe for Sweetness -
Colin Bridgerton x Reader
A/n- ahhhhh I love this request so much!!! If anyone has any more pls lmk! <3
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Most of the ton had their own vices. For some, it was the scandalous gossip provided by the elusive Lady Whistledown, for others it was late nights spent unchaperoned around a gentleman’s house. Either of these, however indecent, would have been better than her daughter’s hobby, thought Y/N’s mother. Since her debut at the start of the season, Y/N had a small amount of callers whose interest soon fizzled out as her meek personality made them quickly move onto more promising options.
Y/N was never one for dramatics. She hated the idea of a polite society, and even more so being trussed up infront of others in the hopes of finding a husband. To her, it was such a farce. The only solace she found at these events were her two friends, Penelope and Eloise. They had not really known Y/N before the seasons start, but as it neared its close they had all grown to become quite good friends. Sure, they did not understand why Y/N would turn down a promenade to bake in the servants kitchen, even if they themselves were also not in attendance, but they still bonded over their thirst for knowledge and adventure.
On one Monday midday Y/N came to the Bridgerton household. Her chaperone, Marie, held in her hand a three tiered tray of decadent pastries, lovingly baked and hand decorated by Y/N. As Marie went through to the drawing room to set down the desserts Y/N was informed that Eloise was currently out and unable to join her for a tea, though she was more than welcome to wait.
Y/N entered the room and was greeted by Colin Bridgerton, eating a pastry. He turned to her and choked a little bit, as if caught red handed. “I apologise, miss Y/n” he managed to utter. “It’s quite alright Colin, what do you think of them?” Although it somewhat hurt to see her creation be consumed by someone other than the intended party, she thought no harm in staying civil. “They are wonderful, I did not realise they were not our own until I had taken a bit and looked down at the name on the tray. Please, give compliments to your kitchen.”
Y/N smiled, “ Actually, I made them myself” Colin looked at her somewhat bewildered. “You are full of surprises aren’t you?” He replied, his voice filled partially with a slight crack. “However do you mean?” Y/N questioned? He looked into her eyes, truly looked like no other man had, and advanced closer. “You appear as a wallflower at all of the events. Stood in the back, no dance to be had.” Y/n drew a puzzled look onto her face, is this meant to be a compliment? “And yet when I observe you with my sister away from society, you light up, your spark well and truly visible. In some ways I envy my sister, that she is able to make that side of you appear.”
He drew in closer yet again, as the footsteps of Eloise neared, back from promenade. He smiled down at Y/N, and as he left he turned back to her “I would very much like to call upon you tomorrow, of course if Eloise shall allow it.” He chuckled, before passing his sister and leaving.
Having her utterly breathless
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