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infiniteimaginings · 7 months ago

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VIOLET BRIDGeTtON PLEASE PLEASE

A Courtship? (Violet Bridgerton x GN!Reader)

Summary: You court the dear Violet Bridgerton and she is surprised, but quite flushed at the idea. Pronouns: You/Yours, They/Them Warnings: Slight angst Word Count: 4.8k A/N: I've had this idea for months. Months. I love this woman with my whole heart. There will be a part two because this got too long. Tagging: @etherynn @theonefairygodmother @ignaciocv

The Bridgerton home was a home that everyone wished for. The structure itself was beautiful, multiple floors, dozens of rooms, chandeliers, paintings of the family. It wasn’t the structure itself that the people of society were necessarily jealous of, no, it was the family themselves.

The Bridgerton family were blessed with handsome sons, beautiful daughters, all from a gorgeous, loving pair of parents. They were blessed with talented children in the arts, in the mind, and even in the heart.

When the new season arrives for daughters to find husbands, mothers are already preparing their own children for the Bridgerton daughters arrivals. Daphne was the diamond of the season, she was almost engaged to a prince, and she is now a duchess. Eloise consistently gained the attention of each suitor on the floor, and Francesca was named the ‘Sparkler’ of the season for her intelligently beautiful compositions on the piano, which everyone knew the meaning of. The Bridgertons were a family that could not be out-charmed.

That wasn’t the only reason that society was jealous of the Bridgertons, they were jealous because the family seemed to love each other so dearly. Whenever they were seen out in the gardens, at the lakes, at balls, they were all laughing with one another, dancing even. Not many families can reflect such a powerful bond, that is why everyone is jealous of the Bridgertons, because they have each other.

It was an early afternoon where the birds were chirping, the sun was shining warmly through the windows, and everyone was ready for the day. The family were all in their day clothes, already having eaten breakfast and practiced any compositions, writings, and or drawings they wanted to complete that day. Due to that, the Bridgerton home was lively and bustling with laughter as it typically was in the day.

Gregory and Hyacinth were up to their usual troubles, swiping sweets from their siblings plates, discussing future plans that were way too far out for them to worry about, and playing games that they couldn’t understand how they were losing to each other.

Anthony was teasing Colin for his activities at the prior party quietly, away from their mothers sharp ears across the room. Though they hid their whispers and scolding, anyone could see how Anthony gently hit Colin in the back of the neck before shaking him by his shoulder with a gracious smile.

Francesca was practicing one of her pieces, creating a peaceful background to the activities at hand. This was also known as her not wanting to involve herself in the activities of her siblings, which everyone was quite fine with. Kate was enjoying the music as she sat on the bench with Francesca, enjoying her cup of tea as she listened to the melodies.

Two others who weren’t invested in what was happening with the rest of the house were Eloise and Benedict, who constantly looked as if they were planning something. Eloise would point to something in her book and Benedict would chuckle, rolling his eyes as he looked away. The brown haired girl would close her book and smack her brother in the shoulder with her hand and he simply laughed harder. No one knew what they were talking about, but everyone knew that it was just how they were.

Watching all of the Bridgerton children happily tending to themselves within the same room, within the comfort of each other brought a smile to someone's face. That someone was Violet Bridgerton, the mother of each and every one of those beautiful children. She had her hands rested on her lap, her eyes shifted from the couch across her where Benedict and Eloise sat to the piano where Francesa and her daughter in law Kate didn’t speak, but enjoyed each other's company. She watched her youngest children run across the room, almost knocking into their older brothers who stopped their conversation to grab hold of them and join in on the excitement.

Violet Bridgerton loved her family, and they all loved her dearly as well. That’s why they fit together, that’s why they always worked.

It wasn’t unusual for the Bridgerton home to receive visitors, so when the footman walked in no one paid him much mind. The only person who turned their head was Violet, as she had been the one to pay more mind ever since Daphne's first season.

The footman stood tall as he entered, hands at his sides, the door now open. “My lady,” He greeted, not looking anywhere in particular, “a noble has arrived to call upon you.”

The Bridgertons focus was now set to the footman before they all looked at one another, more specifically they all looked at Eloise, the girl who has yet to find a husband.

The brown haired girl looked around for a moment before turning to look at the footman, “Me?” She asked hesitantly, grabbing hold of Benedict to hide herself from whoever may have walked through the door. The brother, in response, shoved her from him with a teasing smile, causing the girl to only pull him even more to shield herself.

The footman didn’t look at Eloise when she spoke, he looked at Violet for a moment before speaking. “For the Viscountess Violet Bridgerton.” He announced slowly, no clear expression on his face.

The Bridgerton children all went back to their typical tasks, a little quiet since they had a visitor, but they did not mind the visitor at all. It could’ve been anyone, Lady Danbury, any of the neighbors, or simply her friends. It didn’t necessarily concern the children, so they continued with their afternoon.

Violet clapped her hands and stood with a smile, “Please, send them in!” She spoke happily, walking from the couch to the center of the room to be able to greet the visitor.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t a known person on a personal level who had walked into the Bridgerton drawing room, it was someone Violet had only ever spoken to for a few moments at balls or other parties.

You were a noble who was well known within society for your estates, businesses, your family lineage, and overall your general charm. There were no rumors about you, but there were also no praises within Lady Whistledown nor from the queen, you were simply a sharp noble who kept up with expectations.

Though it was a bit surprising, Violet still greeted you with a gentle smile and sparkle in her eyes. “How unexpected!” She announced, causing her children to turn their heads to the door where you stood with a soft expression. “It’s wonderful to see you, Noble.” She spoke as she curtseyed, greeting you.

Her children all followed suit with a collective, “Good day”, all bowing and/or curtseying to greet you.

You walked in a little further, facing Violet as you bowed, “Good day, Viscountess Bridgerton.” You spoke softly, soon turning to face the others before greeting them as well, “Good day, Lord and Lady Bridgertons.”

After greetings ceased, Violet tilted her head a bit, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” She asked, gently turning her body as she awaited your response.

You finally remembered that you hadn’t expressed why you had found yourself at the Bridgerton home, you bowed once more as a sign of apology, “Dearest Viscountess-” You began to speak, but Violet soon filled the room with her laughter, waving your words off politely, “Oh, please, call me Violet.”

You nodded, taking a bit of a deep breath. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as all of the Bridgerton eyes were on you, something you should have expected, but you did not account for. “Dearest Violet, I’ve come to inquire if…” You trailed off, seeing if you could find the right words to let this visit go smoothly.

“If?” She asked expectantly, shoulders raised high, polite smile still gracing her face.

She was met with no answer for a moment before you let out a shuddered breath and stood tall, your eyes only meeting hers. “If I might seek your favor in courting you.” You finally spat out, your voice stronger than you expected, but as long as you didn’t stutter, you didn’t mind.

The room filled with silence. Francesca abruptly stopped playing, the children all stopped their giggles to stare at the doorway, any conversation was paused at the sudden announcement.

Anthony walked to stand next to his mother, getting a good look at you, “Court?” He asked, brows furrowed in a bit of confusion.

Kate quickly stood from the piano and walked to Anthony, grasping his arm gently, “Anthony, I implore you.” She mumbled into her husband's ear before turning to smile at you, “I apologize.” She spoke on his behalf, trying to stay as polite as possible.

You bowed gently to her, “There is no need for that Viscountess Bridgerton, I do understand why he would ask.” You assured her, standing straight as you made eye contact with the man of the house who you had yet to answer. “To answer your concerns, Viscount Bridgerton, indeed. I wish to court the Lady Violet.” You spoke, turning to the subject of the matter, the subject who held a shocked expression on her face.

Violet couldn’t even respond, she could feel her face warming but she was unsure if that was because she was flustered at the sudden position she was in, or if she was flattered. Before she could open her mouth to speak, someone else weaved their way into the conversation.

“You’re asking her?” Gregory asked from the side of the room, voice filled with confusion as he stood next to his sister.

The room seemed to murmur with agreement, typically if you were courting a dowager, you would go through the eldest son to ask for permission. Anthony seemed just as confused as Violet, so it seemed you didn’t ask him.

You let out a nervous laugh as you finally noticed all the eyes boring into your figure, all you could do was stand awkwardly as you tried to think of an answer for your choices.

Violet noticed your sudden pulse of anxiety and clapped her hands, “Children, could give the noble and me a moment, please?”

Anthony began to shake his head, “Mother-”

Kate gently tugged at Anthony, “Of course.” She spoke quietly with a nod, looking at Anthony sharply as she led him out the room.

Gregory and Hyacinch were ushered out by Colin who followed behind, Francesca stood from the piano quickly and quietly to walk out the door. Eloise stood with a slightly impressed expression and Benedict did the same, holding out his arm to her to which she took, the two walking out, turning their heads ever so slightly to observe you a bit more.

Soon enough, you and Violet Bridgerton were alone in the drawing room, sure that all of the children were listening at the door. You didn’t mind, you just couldn’t handle all of their eyes on you at once.

Violet laughed a bit, turning to sit on the couch, “I beg your pardon for my children’s behavior, we are all deeply involved in each other's lives.” She spoke softly, turning her head to see you standing in the same place stiffly. “Please, come sit.”

You nodded with a tense smile, walking to the couch and sitting a respectable amount away from her, turning to face her. “They’re remarkably kind to be as protective as they are.” You responded to her, thinking about how even the youngest was concerned for the break in societal norms.

“I love them dearly.” Violet stated a bit awkwardly, placing her hands in her lap as she looked down at them. “Um, I do not wish to be impertinent, but why are you asking me, initially?” She asked you, looking over at you hesitantly, a bit scared to look at you fully.

You paused for a moment to gather your words before you adjusted your clothing, “I wanted to inquire directly, as I was unsure of your interest.”

“In you?”

“In a caller who holds interest for you.” You specified, taking a deep breath. “I would never want to place you in a situation where I inquired of another if you were comfortable with someone courting you.”

Violet hummed, her eyes crinkling as the corners of her lips gently upturned, “So, you sought to ensure that I was… ready?” She tried to confirm, licking her lips slightly.

“If you are not, I completely understand.” You responded, your body relaxing slightly now that you were comfortable in the conversations.

The woman in front of you thought for a moment, “I shall be honest, this is all so-” Her words were interrupted when the doors broke open, shocking the both of you. Violet let out a small surprised gasp and you clutched the side of the couch in shock of the sudden interruption.

Hyacinth rushed in, looking around before locking onto her mother, “Mama! The noble brought gifts!” She announced, looking behind her and running when Benedict came to collect her.

“Hyacinth!” Benedict spoke through gritted teeth before giving you both a sweet smile, turning to grab his little sister.

Due to the interruption, everyone filed back in, as did carts and carts of presents for the Bridgerton family.

Violet stared, wide eyed, at the collection of different items, some of which she had never seen sell in their town. “This is too much!” She spoke, standing, hand over her chest as she watched more gifts appear.

You stood as well, dancing on your heels slightly, “Having developed an interest in you and your family over these past few years, it only felt appropriate to present gifts.” You expressed, looking to make sure everything was there.

“You neglected to mention that you brought gifts.” The woman told you, an unexplained feeling being expressed on her.

“I will be honest,” You began, chewing the inside of your cheek, “your family is beautiful as well as intimidating.” You breathed out a chuckle, looking to the floor before looking over at Violet, “I did slightly forget.”

The woman couldn’t hold back her laughter at your words as she placed a hand on your shoulder, “This is all so beautiful.” She told you, watching as the children all went to separate carts before she herself walked forward to one filled with flowers. “These are gorgeous.” She told you, hand gently running over the petals of them.

“I did not know which were your favorite.”

She turned to you, “Hyacinths are my favorite.”

“I shall note that.” You told her gently, standing back as they all admired the presents.

Eloise stumbled upon a cart filled with books, strange material dawning the bindings, “I’ve never laid eyes on such books before.” She commented, mostly to herself.

You overheard her musings to herself and spoke up, “They are from my expeditions. Journals penned by philosophers and doctors I have encountered.”

She spun to face you, “Oh, how delightful. More men regurgitating the same ideas they’ve echoed for ages.” She spoke sarcastically, sighing as she returned her attention back to the books.

You nodded a bit at her blunt response, “Most of the writings are by women from different cultures.” You responded, walking over to where Benedict was eyeing another set of gifts.

Eloise watched you walk off and tilted her head thoughtfully, “Oh.”

Benedict lifted a polished wooden box, opening it to reveal a spectrum of vibrant paints within it. “These paints…” He began, marveling at the richness, his gaze shifting to the other boxes, a few engraved with his name, “They’re extraordinary!” He complimented with a smile, examining all the different shades and colors.

Hearing footsteps approaching him, he assumed it was a sibling and turned to tell them about the paint sets with enthusiasm, but it was you. You grinned at him and asked, “Do you enjoy them?”

Surprised, Benedict responded with, “How did you know I like to paint?”

“I’ve seen your pieces.” You responded simply, not elaborating further.

Benedict scoffed within his laughter, “Where on earth-”

“I cannot divulge that information, unfortunately, I do hope you like them.” You interrupted gently, walking over to the others, leaving the conversation to hang.

This is the way that most of the conversation went, from the sweet treats for the children, the jewelry for the women, the saddles for the men. When you reached Francesca, on the other hand, she wasn’t drawn to any of the items necessarily.

You stood next to her, “Do none of these catch your eye?” You asked, gaze fixed forward rather than towards her.

The girl looked over at you briefly before returning forward, “Everything is lovely,” she replied in a soft voice.

“None of them catch your eye?” You repeated, your tone calm, almost peaceful.

Francesca shook her head, “They do not.”

Acknowledging her response, you nodded. Leaning forward to one of the carts, you picked up a rather thick box and handed it to Francesca.

“I do not paint.” She informed you, anticipating what was inside of the wooden boxes due to Benedict's reaction.

Leaning closer to her you whispered, “They are not paints,” before walking back over to Violet who was still looking over everything, unsure of how you were able to get so many items into her home in a short period of time.

When you walked away, Francesca sighed and settled at the piano bench, opening the box you had given her. She was surprised at the sight, they were indeed not paints. A smile broke out onto the girl's face as she eagerly scrambled through the wooden box. It was paper, they weren’t blank sheets, but they were intricate piano compositions. They hailed for composes she had never heard before, but they seemed just her pace, she couldn’t wait to try it out.

Once you finally reached Violet again, the woman seemed calmer than her originally nervous stature. She met your eyes and thanked you over and over again for the gifts, she spoke about how happy her children looked, she spoke about all the beautiful things you brought.

You looked at her with a gentle light in your eyes, not speaking over her, simply listening. When she finished her thankful rambles she awaited you to speak but you gently took her hands and kissed them, almost feather-light.

Your eyes flicked up to her and stayed in her gaze as your head lifted to its original position, “Please, do think about it.”

That was the final thing you said to Violet Bridgerton before you took your leave, removing yourself from the Bridgerton home, your mark being made on the family.

The Bridgerton home was now filled with conversation about the almost mysterious noble who filled their drawing room with gifts, and basically asked for their mothers hand. The only topic of conversation at dinner was everyone expressing the presents they had been given, their reviews, how interesting they all were, and more. The only person eating in silence was Violet herself.

After dinner Violet found herself in front of her mirror, brushing her hair quietly as she prepared herself for bed. A knock sounded at her bedroom door gently, almost too quietly. She rose from her seat in front of her mirror and opened the door, greeted by the face of her eldest son, Anthony, who appeared troubled..

“Anthony, darling, is something the matter?”

Anthony had a deep frown on his face when she asked such a question, “I should be asking you that.” He told her, silently seeking permission to enter the room.

Violet opened the door wider and walked into her room, sitting on her bed as Anthony closed the room door quietly, opting to stand rather than sit.

His mother hummed quietly, “Something seems to be wrong.”

The eldest son huffed as he looked at his mother intently, “How do you feel about this?”

She blinked, slightly taken aback, “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean,” Anthony began, sitting next to her, “the noble asked to court you.” He reminded her, looking at her a bit confused on how she would have forgotten. “It doesn’t matter how they’ve charmed the family, they’ve asked to court you, personally.” He told Violet, crossing his arms slightly, “How are you feeling about that?”

Violet turned her gaze to the wall in front of her, contemplating. She had thought the initial shock had settled when you had left, but it was evident that it was still there. She gently placed her hand over her heart as she took a deep breath, “I find it quite flattering, unexpected, but flattering.” She whispered, avoiding her son's gaze.

“But, are you going to accept their request to court you?”

There was a pause as Violet pondered deeply, “I do not know.” She admitted honestly, shaking her head as she imagined the possibility, “I do not know if I can.”

Anthony sighed, gathering his thoughts. “What do you mean, if you can?”

Violet shook her head again, her hand still pressed against her chest, it suddenly felt painful to breathe. “I do not believe I am allowed to.”

“Allowed?”

“Am I able to just…” She took a breath, tears welling up unexpectedly. “Am I able to just move on like that, so easily?” She asked, her vision fogging as a sob quietly choked out. “Would Edmund ever forgive me?” She covered her mouth with one of her hands to stifle any further cries but it proved ineffective.

Anthony had witnessed his mothers vulnerable moments and it had always been difficult. After his father's passing, he had assumed the role of head of the household, yet he had never seen his mother so distraught. She was giving birth to his youngest sister, and she was devastated at the mere idea of his father not being there. Anthony froze in the moment, he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know how to be there for his mother…and he realized that now, he still didn’t.

Seeing her cry over the guilt of moving on from her first love, questioning if she deserved to be loved by someone new, shattered Anthony's heart into pieces. He slowly wrapped an arm around his mothers crying figure, letting her lean into him as she wept. He smoothed her hair with one of his hands, cheek to the crown of her head as he slowly rocked them both.

She had every right to feel this way, he just never expected it to hit her all at once. It must’ve been overwhelming, so Anthony just held her quietly, smoothing her hair until her cries quieted down to small hiccups.

“Mama,” He whispered to the woman, waiting for her to respond.

She hummed to let him know she was listening, but she couldn’t find the strength to say anything more in that moment.

Anthony nodded, still holding her close, “I think father would just…” he tried to speak but the words caught in his throat as he thought about his father.

He remembered how kind his father was, how he wanted nothing but the best for all of their family, how he was never a man to raise his voice. Anthony considered a world where he could speak to his father one more time, where he could ask one last question. He wouldn’t ask if he missed them, if he wanted to be with them, because Anthony knew he would want to. He would ask if his father would truly forgive his mother, and after a moment of contemplating the idea, Anthony believed he knew the answer.

“I think father wouldn’t forgive you.” He suddenly declared, feeling his mother shift her head to look up at him. He knew she would try to speak, but he stopped her with a gentle hand, “I think he wouldn’t forgive you, because there’s nothing to forgive.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, her voice trembling.

Anthony blinked back his own growing tears as he spoke about his father, it was always hard, it would never become easier. “Father always wished for us to be happy, to live, to love, to enjoy ourselves…” He trailed off, trying to find the courage to continue.

“He did always want us to enjoy ourselves, what does that have t-”

“I believe father would want you to remarry if you were ready to love again.” Anthony interrupted, his words were rushed and emotional. It almost seemed as if he struggled to get the sentence out, as if it were hard for the reality of the situation to be accepted.

Violet blinked at Anthony, taken aback “Pardon?”

“Father would want you to live happily; he always wished for it.” He spoke, looking at the floor as he cradled his mother, “I believe…no…” Anthony interrupted his own thoughts, “I know he would want us to remember him fondly, but he would never want to be the reason we hold ourselves off from moving on.”

“Anthony, I am happy with all of you…”

“If you truly had no intention of accepting, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Anthony stated firmly, pulling back from his mother to look her in her eyes. “If you really weren’t considering it, you would have declined the noble’s offer.”

The words rang in the air for a moment and Violet found herself unable to respond. She couldn’t articulate her thoughts because Anthony was right, she wouldn’t be agonizing over Edmund if a part of her didn’t yearn to accept the courtship.

Seeing as his mother wasn’t ready to reply, Anthony gently withdrew himself from her embrace, “Think about it a bit more, Mother.” He urged gently, walking to the door, “Goodnight.” He bid her, closing the door behind him and leaving Violet Bridgerton alone in her bedroom.

The only thing the woman could think of as she laid her head on the pillow were her son's words, “I think he wouldn’t forgive you, because there’s nothing to forgive.”

A week later, and there had been no sign of you. Violet seemed quieter than usual, but the children didn’t necessarily comment on it, neither did Anthony as he had seen how conflicted his mother was.

In the drawing room, only Violet sat, she would sit alone for a few more moments, even after her family had left. No one questioned her sudden solitude or asked if she wished to join them, they knew she would in due time

Lost in thought, Violet was absently playing with her fingers. She gazed at the windows where she could see people walking the streets, the sun shining on them heavenly. After a while, she stood and brushed herself off with a soft smile, making her way to the door to rejoin her family.

She would’ve continued had the footman not arrived at the door, hands at his sides when he entered. “My lady, you have a caller.” He announced, awaiting her response.

Violet straightened, her eyes widening briefly before she composed herself, “Yes, of course.” She mumbled slightly. “Please, send them in.” She told him quietly, standing in front of the entrance.

You entered with a warm smile on your face, holding a bouquet of the most exquisite flowers Violet had ever seen.

Violet curtsied graciously, “Good day, Noble.” She greeted, looking up nervously, her demeanor resembling a debutante in her first season.

You bowed in return, “Good day, Viscountess Bridgerton.” You replied, standing tall as you approached her, gently presenting the bouquet.

“My favorites…” Violet whispered, observing the Hyacinths with lightly sparkling eyes.

“I took note.” You responded quietly, admiring her reaction.

Violet lightly laughed in response, turning to arrange the flowers in a vase. “Um, do you have time for lunch?” She asked somewhat hastily, attempting to be welcoming, but she was overall fairly nervous.

You shook your head regretfully, “Unfortunately not, I’ve come to bring you a gift and thank you for accepting my invitation.”

“Oh, well, you’re welcome.” She spoke a bit solemnly.

You stepped closer, gently taking her hands in yours. “I have business this morning, but I would like to return tomorrow. Perhaps we could take a walk in the afternoon, if you would enjoy that?”

The woman gently nodded, a stray curl from her pinned up hair gently escaping, “I would enjoy that…” She responded, her voice falling off as you tucked the curl back into place.

“I shall look forward to it then.” You said, bowing gracefully before making your way out of the Bridgerton estate.

Once you were gone, Violet couldn’t help but gently smell the flowers you had gotten for her. You were quite thoughtful and she recognized that early on, but the flowers only reinforced the sentiment.

The brown haired woman smiled to herself, “Maybe this really will be good for me.” She whispered, walking out of the drawing room to join her family.

The beautiful hyacinths rested on the ledge amidst the family portraits, appearing as though the space there was meant for them all along. As though they belonged there.

#violet bridgerton x reader #violet bridgerton #Bridgerton #Bridgerton x reader #Bridgerton Fic #infinite imaginings

208 notes · View notes

alewritesfics · 19 days ago

Text

Bridging Realities

ℑℑ. 𝔅𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤....𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: unedited, slow burn, eventual smut/ spicy scenes, angst but happy ending, playful banter

⏮️ ⏸️ ⏭️

The Featherington household was a whirlwind of activity The hum of anticipation filled the air, mingling with the clinking of jewelry boxes being opened and the soft rustle of fabric.

You stood before the gilded mirror in the dressing room with all of the featherington women. The butter-yellow fabric shimmered faintly in the candlelight, a stark reminder of the gaudy tastes of your supposed family. You resisted the urge to tug at the neckline, which felt slightly too tight, and instead smoothed the fabric over your waist, trying to appear at ease.

Penelope, seated nearby, was unusually quiet as she read a book. Her dress, a softer shade of yellow, suited her far better than your overly bright attire. She caught your gaze in the mirror and offered a small, nervous smile.

“Would you like me to prepare some potatoes for the ladies downstairs, ma’am?” Varley asks

“Potatoes?” Prudence peeks out from behind the changing screen “Again?”

Philippa pushes you out of the mirror to look at herself instead “Why are we always eating potatoes?” She mutters

“Because these days, I am the housekeeper, lady’s maid, scullery maid, and cook” Varley responds grabbing a spare dress

You sighed, looking at your hideous bright colored dress before snatching the light green- almost blue- dress from her hands “give me that” You huffed, turning to look at Por- your mama. “I am not wearing this hideous dress, I’ll look as if I’m there to bring light into the room as a candle instead of actually participating” is all you say before you push Prudence out of the way to change into a new dress

You ignore all of the talk about the lord featherington, blah, blah, blah- instead, your mind wanders to what you know will happen in this ball. The start of Kate and Anthony’s rivalry.

Although all of the scandal is what made their love strong, you find it all unnecessary for them to relieve it again. In fact, perhaps you should help them get their love story without all of the scandals and hurting Edwina.

You frown as you remember that there was the obstacle called Anthony’s insecurities about love. It will certainly be difficult to get him to ignore his fears and give in to love when that was the whole reason he didn’t get with Kate sooner.

“Y/n!” Portia calls out “Are you done? Or do we need to wait another hour for you? Hurry, child!”

You sighed, stepping out. On to another dreary event, although you cannot deny you are giddy to see the viscount again

The carriage ride to the ball was a mixture of anticipation and tedium. Prudence and Philippa chattered away about the eligible gentlemen expected to attend, while Portia chimed in with pointed reminders about the importance of securing a good match. You stared out the window, the sights of Regency London rolling by, your thoughts firmly fixed on the Bridgertons.

You knew this ball was the catalyst for Kate and Anthony’s love story—a story that would have them at each other’s throats before realizing their undeniable connection. But could you really stand by and let Edwina get caught in the crossfire? She didn’t deserve to have her heart broken, even if it was essential to the plot as you’d watched it.

“We’re here!” Philippa announced as the carriage came to a halt in front of the grand ballroom. The sound of music and laughter spilled out onto the street, mingling with the clatter of carriages and the hum of conversations.

Stepping out of the carriage, you adjusted your skirts, the soft green fabric flowing elegantly. The night air was crisp, and lanterns illuminated the path to the grand entrance.

Inside, the room was a kaleidoscope of color and sound. Gowns in every shade imaginable twirled across the floor as couples danced to the lively strains of the orchestra. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting a warm, golden light over the bustling crowd.

You stayed close to Penelope, avoiding Portia’s sharp gaze as she guided Philippa and Prudence toward their “targets.”

And then, as if drawn by some invisible force, your eyes found him. Anthony Bridgerton, stood near the edge of the dance floor, his dark hair perfectly styled, and his sharp features illuminated by the flickering candlelight. His posture was commanding, his expression one of calculated indifference as he surveyed the room. And he was surrounded by a ton of ladies. You chuckled as you remember it was caused by Lady Bridgerton announcing he was marrying this season.

Your breath caught in your throat. Despite all your preparation for this moment, seeing him again was like a shock to your system. You froze, suddenly hyperaware of everything—the way your heart raced, the faint heat rising to your cheeks, and the almost surreal feeling of standing in the presence of someone you’d only ever seen on a screen.

“Y/n?” Penelope’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Are you all right?”

You blinked, tearing your gaze away from Anthony. “I’m fine,” you managed, though your voice betrayed your nerves.

“Good,” she said with a sly smile. “Because it looks like he’s noticed you.”

Your eyes darted back to Anthony, and sure enough, his piercing gaze was locked onto yours.

Holy fuck

You took in a deep breath before approaching him, pushing in between the multitude of ladies. He didn’t say it, but you know he needed saving “Lord Bridgerton,” you say with a smile “ I believe the dance you promised me is next”

Anthony's brow lifted in surprise, though he recovered quickly, offering a polite smile. “Miss Featherington,” he said, his tone smooth yet laced with curiosity. “I must admit, I don’t recall promising a dance. But far be it from me to deny a lady.” Your smile fell slightly

Seriously, doesn’t he get that you’re trying to save him?

Your cheeks burn slightly out of embarrassment but you compose yourself, a smile on your face.

The ladies surrounding him cast you scathing looks, muttering behind their fans as they reluctantly stepped back. You ignored them, meeting Anthony’s gaze with unwavering confidence.

“I distinctly remember, my lord,” you replied, extending your gloved hand. “Perhaps the memory escaped you, given how sought-after you are this evening.”

Anthony let out a low chuckle, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “A clever gambit, Miss Featherington. Very well, shall we?”

He took your hand, his touch warm and firm, and led you to the dance floor. The orchestra struck up a lively waltz as he positioned himself opposite you, his hand resting lightly at your waist while the other held yours.

“Bold of you,” he murmured as you began to move in time with the music. “Claiming a dance so publicly. I dare say you’ve left half the room scandalized.”

You tilted your head, offering a coy smile. “I thought it might save you from being devoured alive. Judging by the crowd, you’ve become quite the prize.”

His lips twitched as though suppressing a grin. “And here I thought I was adept at managing such situations.”

“Clearly, even a viscount needs rescuing on occasion,” you teased.

Anthony’s gaze softened, a flicker of intrigue crossing his face. “And what, pray tell, made you decide to be my savior tonight?”

You hesitated for a fraction of a second, masking the true depth of your intentions. “Let’s call it an act of charity. Though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the opportunity to dance with the season’s most eligible bachelor, certainly helps me get por- mama, off my back..”

“Charity, you say?” he echoed, his tone half-amused, half-challenging. “And here I thought you were merely bold and wanted to delight in my very sought after company.”

The corners of your lips lifted in a knowing smile. “Why can’t it be both?”

As you twirled across the floor, the room seemed to fade into the background. His steady gaze never wavered from yours, and for a fleeting moment, you felt a crack in the armor he so carefully wore.

“Miss Featherington,” he said quietly, his voice almost too soft to hear over the music, “you are full of surprises.”

“You’ll find I have many more,” you replied, your tone light, though your heart raced.

For the first time, you wondered if you weren’t just saving Anthony from the eager ladies of the ton—but perhaps saving him based on hidden intentions, ones you won’t reveal just yet.

“Say,” you start to speak as he twirls you around “Have you found the woman you have been looking for yet? With a pleasing face, acceptable wit and genteel manners to match a viscountess?” you throw in his future words you know he will say to his acquaintances in a few minutes

Anthony’s brows lifted slightly as he caught your words, his grip on your waist firm yet graceful as he guided you through the dance. A flicker of amusement played at the edges of his mouth. “You seem remarkably well-versed in my supposed preferences, Miss Featherington,” he said. “One might think you’ve spent some considerable time pondering them.”

You laughed softly, tilting your head in mock innocence. “Hardly, my lord. It’s merely what the ton whispers about your requirements. Though, I must say, the criteria sound rather… clinical. Do you plan to select a wife or hire a governess?”

His lips quirked upward at the jab. “I assure you, my intentions are far from clinical. But it is prudent for a man in my position to approach the matter with care. I am, after all, securing the future of my family.”

“How noble of you,” you said, though your tone was laced with playful skepticism. “And here I thought a love match was all the rage these days. Perhaps I’ve misjudged the viscount’s romantic sensibilities.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed slightly, though not in displeasure. There was a glint of challenge in his gaze. “And what would you suggest, Miss Featherington? That I throw caution to the wind and risk everything for a fleeting emotion?”

“Not fleeting, my lord,” you countered, your voice dropping to a softer, more serious tone. “Love can be enduring. It can be powerful. The kind of love that consumes you entirely—it’s worth the risk.”

For a moment, he seemed caught off guard, his steps faltering ever so slightly before he recovered. His gaze lingered on you, searching, as though trying to discern if your words were meant as a jest or something deeper.

“And what of you, Miss Featherington?” he asked, his tone quieter now, almost curious. “Do you believe in such consuming love?”

You smiled, a hint of mischief returning to your expression. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare admit such a thing in public, my lord. It might give the impression that I’m romantic, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Anthony chuckled, the sound low and rich. “You are an enigma, Miss Featherington. Most ladies are content to charm me with compliments, yet you seem intent on challenging me at every turn.”

“Well, are truly all the ladies of London charmed by a pleasing smile and nothing more to shower you with compliments all the time?” you said, meeting his gaze with a boldness you hadn’t quite expected of yourself, unconsciously speaking out Kate’s sentence “perhaps I prefer to stand out in a crowd. After all, my lord, isn’t that what catches your attention?”

His grip on your hand tightened slightly, his expression softening. “So you find my smile pleasing?” He smirked teasingly

“I won’t deny nor confirm it” You glance at him mischievously

“…You have my attention, Miss Featherington,” he admitted, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Though I suspect you knew that already.”

You couldn’t suppress a smile, your heart racing as the dance carried on. “Perhaps,” you said lightly. “Or perhaps I’m simply enjoying the rare occasion of rendering you speechless, Lord Bridgerton.”

Anthony chuckled again, the sound almost indulgent. “A dangerous game you’re playing, Miss Featherington.”

“Life’s more interesting that way, wouldn’t you agree?”

As the final notes of the waltz filled the air, Anthony’s gaze lingered on yours a moment longer than necessary. You had achieved what you’d set out to do—leave the viscount intrigued and just a little off balance. Now, you only hoped it would be enough to further your hidden intentions.

⏮️ ⏸️ ⏭️

Taglist:

@heyyitsreign

@imafangirlofeverything

@stopeatread

@smartiepants217

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #violet bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #daphne basset #kate sharma #edwina sharma

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redheadspark · 2 months ago

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hey dear!

May I have Benedict Bridgerton with #16? 🌸💓

A/N - This is cute for Benedict! Thanks for request!!

Real

Summary - Benedict helps you get over your ex in the best way possible

Warnings - A small hint of angst but mostly fluff!

“Alright, I need your help!”

The Bridgerton siblings that sat in front of you with their various newspapers and books looked up from their current read, seeing how panicked you looked as you gazed at each at them. Eloise sat up abruptly, slamming her book shut. Anthony folded his newspaper as his wife Kate placed her tea down on the coffee table in front of her. Lastly, Benedict closed his book on modern art as he was then who spoke up.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he commented, his voice a pinch concerned as you nodded rapidly

“He is a ghost to me, but he’s here now!” He huffed. Anthony raising a brow at you as Eloise shot up from the couch, tossing her book on the coffee table and then walk over to where you were.

“Who is?” She asked, then looking behind you through the massive window of the coffee shop where you all were. Sure enough, her eyes shot wide and she looked mortified, “That slimy bastard!”

“Eloise! Language!” Anthony scolded, but Eloise looked back at her older brother and pointed out the window with a glare in her eyes.

“It’s her ex!”

Everyone on the couch was now on their feet, circling around the coffee table and looking out the window, which made it way more obvious that they were watching. Your cheeks were reddening in embarrassment, knowing full well that the Bridgerton clan had no real fear in being obvious in certain circumstances.

Across the street from the coffee shop was your ex, someone who broke your heart in the worst way possible. Two years together and he ended up being one of the worst relationships you’ve ever had. You did fall for then first though, you being the hopeless romantic and thinking that it would be an endgame kind of relationship. But when he broke it off with you and stomped on your heart, you were loosing hope with the whelk concept of love.

The Bridgerton clan was a family that you grew up with, being neighbors on the same street and going to mutual charities and galas. Your parents and Violet Brigerton were life long friends, which in return made you friends with the cluster of Bridgerton children. Being an only child, you wanted to have brothers and sisters of your own. Yet that group of siblings that were a perfect mixture of chaos and kindness were great substitutes for you, they even dubbed you a “Long Lost Bridgerton” at times.

The one sibling that you were close to was Benedict, not to mention harboring feelings for him for some time. He was always joyful and filled with optimism. You loved his artistic side and how he would paint with his soul on the canvas, how he would tease his siblings but love them fiercely, something about his nature and his cool eyes made you stumble a few times when you two were teenagers. But of course, in your mind, he was out of each. You never wanted to go past the line of friendship, thinking it would backfire and he would think less of you. He would never, his heart was far too good to do that, but the fear was still there.

So you pursued others, thinking it was the best thing to do to both ignore the feelings you had for Benedict and to find someone else to love you. Not realizing the feelings he had for you, the lingering looks he would give when he saw you get picked up for a date at your home from his bedroom window, the tender heart ache when you talked to Eloise in her room about a new boy that stole her heart.

When your recent ex broke your heart, Benedict was livid. He only found out when you were on the phone with Eloise, blubbering on the other end and explaining all that your ex said to make you cry. Eloise too was made, but Benedict was beyond pissed. He wanted to find your ex, affectionately named Travis, and punch his lights out. He heard about Travis from other friends and how much of a womanizer he became towards the end of your relationship with him, and sure enough it the truth: Travis cheated on you with his old flame and then shot down your heart in rapid fire.

“What’s he doing around here?” Kate asked as she looked over her husband shoulder. Benedict glared at Travis whom was chatting on the phone on the other side of the street, hating him instantly all over again. It’s been a few months since the break up, and although you picked yourself up and dusted yourself off, it was still tender. You avoided his usual hangouts, and thankfully you had your own set of friends whom also hated Travis and had no allegiance with him. Including the Bridgerton clan.

Especially Benedict.

“I wish we can wipe that smug off his face,” Eloise grumbled.

“But how?” Anthony asked, clearing thinking the same wave length as his sisters. You huffed.

“I just want to void him without seeming like an idiot!” You explained, the four of them looked over at you.

“You should be confident enough to face him and not cower!” Kate explained to you as you rolled your eyes.

“I’m not gonna cower!” You argued, which lead to yourself, Kate, Anthony and Eloise starting ti bicker back and forth in front of the window. Benedict looked from you all to the window again, seeing Travis walking across the street at the cross was and then heading to the coffee shop where you all were. He panicked, not wanting the scumbag to see the four of you argue about him. He would have a field day, and you would crumble within a second.

He thought of the one and only thing that would but shut Travis up and make his own heart soar.

As the coffee shop doo opened with a clang of a ball, Travis walking in and hanging up the phone to look In your direction, Benedict moved though his siblings to stand in front of you. Before you could ask him what was wrong and why he was staring at you in an intrigued way, he did the one thing that made your heart stop.

Benedict Bridgerton cupped your face and kissed you soundly.

You were lost in your mind from his lips on yours, from his calloused hands along your jawline, and how his body was right in front of yours. The smell of coffee and canvas, the warmth of his skin, and the smoothness of his lips, you were instantly hooked line and sinker. Your eyes closed as he leaned against you and into you, almost blocking your from the rest of the world. Everything else ceased to exist, all you could think about was Benedict.

And how in love you were with him in that moment.

Finally, after a long moment or two, you both opened your eyes and stared at one another. Blush on your cheeks as his hands were still on your face. Yet he looked a bit worried with what he did, maybe over stepping and making things worse. However, it was not on your face, which was still dazed and yet enraptured.

The door opened and closed again, Travis beelining out of the coffee shop after seeing what he saw.

“Holy shit,” Eloise gasped at the sight of her friend and brother kissing. Anthony immediately took her by the arm, flustered himself at the right he saw, as the three of them left you two alone. He muttered under his breath, “I swear that mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days, Eloise!”

Benedict slowly placed his hands down from your jaw, thinking that he was about to backtrack. But you reached up and clutched his wrist, not wishing to loose that contact of his fingers along your chin and face.

“This is not a prank, right?” you asked sheepishly, Benedict searching your eyes and seeing how you were asking honestly and he shook his head rapidly while you continued, “Because then I would have to punch you and I really want to kiss you,”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for years,” He admitted, you grinning from ear to ear as he barely touched his nose against yours, “Travis never deserved you—“

“I honestly don’t want to talk about him right now,” you sheepishly said to him, seeing him chuckled as he nodded in agreement.

“I think we can head out of here before we scar everyone else. My place?” He questioned in a raised brow. You nodded, and he took you by the hand out of the coffee shop with your books in two and your hearts beating out of your chest.

Years later at your wedding, you both would laugh at the memory of your first kiss.

The End

November Prompt Session

#benedict bridgerton #luke thompson #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader

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kanthonyprompts · 29 days ago

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Kanthony Prompt #79

Recently, I was looking to write a "one bed" fic and asked for prompt ideas. I got a ton, so I wanted to share some of the great ideas here:

Tired and cranky backpackers on an overnight train (from @ottovastra)

Bad weather (my faves tend to be blizzards just because of the eventual coziness factor with getting to warm up/snuggle), stumble across a hotel where they do have a room available, but alas..... (@irelandhoneybee)

Work colleagues really into each other but haven’t revealed their feelings yet. They end up on an overnight stay at a hotel on a business trip. It’s a one bed situation and they are both elated but try to pretend it’s an inconvenience they have to handle. They get closer and closer and end up having sex in a power cut. you get to explore a more tactile form of sex. touching on themes like taste, touch and smell. Would be even better with a shift in power dynamics and Anthony is the boss. (@rochey1010)

Stuck in one hotel bed when they went up to Scotland to move their sisters into dorms (@mimix007)

Exes who RSVP to a wedding a year from breakup (obv close family so cannot cancel) and had only one room booked.... (@mimix007)

maybe it’s christmas eve and they’re on the same flight… but it’s delayed and there’s only a small inn available for delayed customers… and only one bed left by the time they get there. (@tulipsandcorgis)

Added hurt/comfort layer - recovery from injury enemies to friends to... but Kate has a PTSD nightmare related to injury and past trauma. Maybe not spicy? (@mimix007)

Work conference with work frenemies but one room roof leaked in bad storm so they have to consolidate (@mimix007)

On the run from bad guys (kidnappers, villains etc), under assumed identities, have to play up a married couple to hide bodyguard-protectee ship... Twist - Kate is the bodyguard ;) (@mimix007)

Not sure this is one bed trope but something like one character falls into ice and the other had to strip down to warm them up with body heat. With Kanthony I can see it turning smutty lol (@cranbourne2024)

Family trip, but both of them fall sick, so they have to quarantine in one room. Less sexy because they're both sick, but hilarious times instead (@mimix007)

I'm imagining a newly married Kanthony having just returned from their honeymoon when something major happens and all of Anthony's siblings would have to sleep on the floor of their bedroom. (@passerbyyye)

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #bridgerton fic #kanthony #kathony #kate sharma #fic prompt #queued post

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lookingfts · 8 months ago

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Where does Say My Name Kate keep the photos Anthony took of her? Does she ever look at them? Does Anthony?

*sexy snippet below*

Kate knew it was reckless to keep the photos in her purse, exactly where Anthony had left them. There was just something right about it, keeping them so close to her. The final token that had convinced Kate to make the best decision of her life, and give Anthony Bridgerton a real chance at loving her.

There was also something a little naughty and thrilling about it, besides. Kate was hardly a prude, but she still blushed when she caught a glimpse of herself posed so intimately. Her legs spread, her cunt exposed, Anthony’s release filling her. It was too easy to get wet all over again at the memories. Too easy to get sentimental as Kate mused on how far they had come since then. That girl had been so scared, fighting his every attempt to show her that he genuinely cared about her.

And now she knew the truth. Anthony loved her harder than she could have ever dared to imagine, and she was safe to love him just as much.

So the Polaroids stayed. Until the day that Eddie needed to borrow a phone charger and Kate, distracted by her sauce on the stove, had offhandedly said, “Check my purse.”

There was the sound of zipping, and Kate realized her mistake a second before it rang across the house. “Oh my fucking god!”

Kate turned down the heat and raced into the other room, snatching the photos from Edwina’s hand. But the damage was done, judging by the shell-shocked look on her sister’s face.

“That’s not what it looks like,” she insisted, her cheeks flaming bright red.

“That’s not…” Eddie said faintly, then snorted. “Didi, I literally don’t think that could be anything except what it looks like.”

Shoving the photos back into her purse, Kate pulled out the charger and pushed it into Edwina’s hand. She supposed it was a good sign that her sister’s surprise had faded and now she looked endlessly amused rather than angry.

“You little slut,” she said, but her voice was teasing. “You let my ex-boyfriend take nasty photos of you, didn’t you?”

Kate rolled her eyes. Eddie loved to call Anthony her ex, and while technically correct, Kate knew she meant it more as a joke than anything else. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s not that complicated.”

She supposed there was no need to tell Edwina the whole sordid tale of how Anthony had taken pictures of her after she had just made him come for the first time, on her knees and trying to get even after her own intense orgasm. Of how he’d given them to her as a gift, a promise that he wouldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability.

Might as well let her think they were more recent, a fun little experiment in a solid relationship.

“You look great,” Eddie said, waving her hand toward the photos. “Have you ever considered porn?”

“Edwina!”

-----

So, maybe her purse wasn’t the best spot. Kate took them out when she got home, bringing them upstairs with her. It was late, and Anthony was already in bed, shirtless and reading a book. Truly beautiful sight to come home to, each and every time.

She flopped onto the bed, and Anthony quirked an eyebrow when he saw the photos in her hand. “I haven’t seen those in a while.”

“Edwina found them in my bag,” Kate said, wincing. “She was fine, but it was…awkward, to say the least.”

Anthony pressed his lips together, suppressing a laugh. “But she was okay?”

“Yeah. She said I should do porn.”

“You do look incredible naked,” he said with a straight face. “But I must admit, I like being the only one to see you that way.”

“I know,” Kate sighed, snuggling in closer so she could rest her head on his shoulder. Anthony put his book aside, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I must have known when I let you take these. I believed you when you said you wouldn’t show anyone else.”

She felt his deep breath against her body, his grip tightening around her. “I know you didn’t have much reason to trust me back then, but I would never do that to you, Kate.”

“I’m well aware,” she assured him, twisting to press a kiss to his collarbone. “It was a little scary, but it also turned me on. I realized I liked the idea of you laying in bed, touching yourself to my photos. Wanting me even after our one night was over.”

Anthony tensed slightly, his breathing going a little shallower. “That was…inevitable.”

“I know that now too.” Kate flipped to the next Polaroid, a close-up of her cunt with his seed leaking out. Right after that ridiculous phone call with Tom and before Anthony had cleaned her up with his tongue. “If you didn’t take them for yourself, why did you take them?” she asked quietly.

“They were for me. At first. If that night was all I had with you, I wanted to remember it. And when you let me take them, I realized…there was a part of you that trusted me. Maybe it was buried deep down, but it was there. And I wanted to show you that I could deserve that trust. I wanted you to know that you owned me, not the other way around.”

Her heart clenched in her chest. Maybe the way Anthony showed love didn’t make sense to everyone, but it was perfect for her. He was perfect for her.

“Hey, baby?” she asked. Anthony hummed. “Do you know where your camera is?”

“It’s in my office. Why?”

“I think we should take some more photos.”

#say my name #bridgerton #kanthony #asks and answers #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #bridgerton fic #missing scene

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muxshwriting · 11 hours ago

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forbidden is just a word (part i)

Benedict Bridgerton x male!reader

summary: benedict meets a new friend at the club and finds there’s much more than reaches the eye || character has the surname "Waters" || slight angst, dead relatives (brother), scheming, terrible flirting (or is it flirting at all?) || word count: 1380 || masterlist

part one || part two || part three || part four

Benedict would often join his brother in White’s Gentlemen Club and spend an afternoon or an entire day drinking and laughing with him. It was an escape from responsibility (or lack of responsibility) for both of them. Anthony had every weight on his shoulders and Benedict was blessed to be a second son, who had no real responsibility beyond being his brothers ‘spare’.

But in their clubs, they were not a Lord and his spare, they were brothers. They joined each other in Mondrich’s club, helping a friend begin his future. It was the way they bonded, he supposed, something that brought them closer without the rest of their family.

With Anthony married to Kate, he devoted most of his free time to his darling wife and Benedict would often find himself drinking alone in the club. He’d abandoned his art studio, packing his supplies into forgotten cupboards to let them gather dust. He’d abandoned his dream while he watched his brother live his.

In his solitary afternoons, Benedict would often contemplate what his life had come to and what his future might hold. He could imagine himself contented in the countryside with a wife and a few children to occupy his time but it didn’t make his heart sing the way it used to. He wasn’t quite sure what did anymore.

Then there was one afternoon where he wasn’t as solitary as he thought he would be. A man of similar age to his, perhaps slightly older, sauntered into the club but hid an apprehensive look in his eyes that said he didn’t quite know what he was doing there. He grabbed a drink from the bar, taking a sip and nursing the liquor as it flowed through him. He glanced around, not spotting a free table and settled his eyes on Benedict sitting alone.

Benedict was looking at him as well, analysing his movements and the way his eyes flicked nervously around the room. Subtlety, Benedict pushed the chair across from him with his foot so it was clear it was free for him.

The gentleman let the tension drip from his shoulders as he made his way over, offering a hand for Benedict to shake. “Lord Y/N Waters, at your service.“

“Benedict Bridgerton, at yours.”

You take your seat and strike up conversation. “I must thank you for your offer of a seat. I was worried I would be stuck at the bar all afternoon.”

Benedict smiled slightly, tilting his drink at you in response. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you in the Ton before, what’s kept you away?”

“Oddly enough, lack of duty.” You joke but Benedict can see the rawness of emotion in your face. “My brother was Lord Waters before me. It’s only recently that I’ve taken up the mantle, so to say.”

“I- I’m sorry for your loss.” Benedict said hesitantly.

“Thank you. Anyway, I’m here now, unable to refuse the call of society and forced to take my place within the Ton once more.” You say with mirth and a joking tone.

At this, Benedict did laugh. He completely agreed and understood with your perspective, even more after the last year.

Conversation flows with ease and you find yourself sinking into the chair, calling for more drinks and letting the time drip away without worrying about your estate or your duty or your future. Benedict is an easy man to accompany, he doesn’t try to be perfect because no one is, he is simply himself.

As the night draws closer, you make some loosely worded excuses to go home and the minute you step out of the door, a shiver runs down your back and you can’t stop the smile on your face. Shaking it off, you blame the alcohol and the cold night air for your reaction and head home where your paperwork and books await you.

Benedict watches you leave. His heart flutters slightly as his fingers curl around his glass, absentmindedly letting his eyes wander as his body leaned to watch you go.

Your club meetings with Benedict only seem to increase in frequency as you settle back into life in London. In truth, you missed your homely cottage in the countryside near your family’s country manor. It was a peace for you, where you could do whatever with your life with no one to tell you no. It didn’t matter if you spent an entire day reading literature or studying poetry. It was your life. In London, your life didn’t feel like yours.

Benedict always seems to be in the club, a drink in hand. You had asked him what he liked to do with his time and he gave you a substance-less answer that was hiding a deeper truth. There was something that had happened that he didn’t want to share and you just had to respect that.

Whenever you asked Benedict that question he was reminded what his life used to mean before his hoped were dashed and all his accolades turned sour with the news of his brothers’ money. Art had been his true passion, his true love and it had betrayed him.

With your return to London came meetings and reunions with other Lords you should do well to associate with. You can’t find it in yourself to care, this was your brothers area of expertise, socialising. Several men approached you at the club, hoping to drag you off to their tables and away from the Bridgerton second son, their words (said with a sense of malice) not yours, but you respectfully refused. You had found much more interesting conversation with a second son who had long been overlooked.

Your valet, a true confidante since your return to London, Turner, had noticed the shift in mood after your long days at the club. Instead of moping in your books and poetry, you were more inclined to get your estate’s work done and even mustered a smile every now and then.

“My Lord,” Turner had interrupted your work one afternoon carrying a box of your late brother’s belongings. “These are some of the personal affects of the late Lord Waters. I believe they should be of use to you.”

Your mood soured at the mention of your brother, the image you had built of London shattered like cold water poured over your head. It was a reminder that he wasn’t in your image of London, that he could never be again. “Turner, I thought my brother’s belongings were all put into storage. Anything I wanted had already been removed.“

Turner silently reached in and pulled a small ring from a velvet box. “This was your mother’s ring, a ring she gave to your brother for his future wife and a ring I now pass to you.”

”Why would I need an engagement ring?”

Tuenter seemed taken aback, like his actions had an obvious motive. He was a sneaky man, always with a comment and a scheme to go with it. But he was honest, always trying to do right by your brother’s memory and leading on the right path. “My Lord, you spend your days out in the Ton, you return far happier than you left. Have I misunderstood?”

”Ah.” You clear your throat to hide a chuckle. “I’m afraid you have Turner. I have not found myself a wife. I spend my days in the club, I make friends, I return home happy and full of liquor. There is nothing more than that.”

Turner seemed embarrassed but composed himself quickly. he shot you a knowing look and silently placed the ring and its box on your desk. “Your brother did not tell me much about you. But he mentioned your hatred for tactless socialisation. Perhaps he was wrong and you enjoy your days in the club as he did. Or perhaps I had the right thought all along.”

His cryptic words had you frozen as you simply tried to figure out what he meant. You knew him and your brother were close, but he had never spoken in riddles like this before. Turner had walked out of the room before you could answer and left you in your stewing thoughts, only the crackle of the fire to fill the void.

What was Turner implying?

part one || part two || part three || part four

#benedict bridgerton x male!reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #male!reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #muxsh #muxshwriting #forbidden is just a word

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fitrahgolden · 1 year ago

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Mother Hen

I've hit a wall on the last couple of chapters of Should You Need Me, so here's a drabble for you:

“Do you not think he is sitting rather close to Franny?”

“I do not.”

“You are not even looking!” Anthony hissed at his wife, who was looking down at her book, a placid expression on her face. “I must say, I worry you do not appreciate the importance of your role here, Kate.”

Anthony looked back across the room and his eyes widened. “You must look! He has leaned toward her! His behaviour clearly suggests a libertine lifestyle and it is appalling. You would be offended if you would only pay attention.”

Kate glanced up, knowing she would find Lord Campbell behaving perfectly well. She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Anthony, they are sitting opposite each other on separate settees. All is entirely proper."

"But look at their knees, Darling."

Kate tried her best to suppress a laugh, not wanting to add to the distraction her husband was already causing with his commentary, which she was sure Anthony thought was being communicated subtlety.

"Their knees? What of their knees?"

"This Lord Campbell must think himself quite sly, but it is clear to me that he has been inching his legs closer to Francesca this entire visit. This is deceitful behaviour, at best. I must do something."

Kate shot her hand out to place it firmly against Anthony's arm. "You must do nothing." She warned sternly. "There is no impropriety occurring, and your unnecessary interference will only serve to embarrass your sister. This is clearly causing you great distress. Perhaps you have business to attend to in your study?"

Anthony shook his head dismissively as he put his hand over where Kate’s rested on his arm. "You are here. I do not wish to leave." His eyes were still intent on Francesca and Lord Campbell across the room. His response was so immediate, so natural, he clearly hadn't given any thought.

Kate smiled, looking at the profile of her adorable husband, so invested in the wellbeing of his sister, to the point of abject absurdity.

Anthony managed an entire twenty seconds of silence before declaring coolly. "The relentlessness of his eye contact is unnerving."

Kate turned to him, blinking slowly. "Anthony."

"What?" Anthony asked.

"You are critiquing a gentleman's eye contact on the basis of its intensity? You?"

"Oh, come now, Kate. If you mean to call my propensity to let my gaze linger into question, you must know that it is obviously an exception."

"Is it?"

"Yes," Anthony answered simply. "For one, we are married."

"And before–?"

"And before, as still stands true today, you are exceptional."

Anthony's eyes twinkled at her. Before she could put together a response to his unexpectedly sweet appeal, Anthony turned his head sharply back to Lord Campbell. Standing, he looked at his father's pocket watch. "Surely this ‘gentleman’ has been given enough time. I can tell Franny is thoroughly unimpressed. I shall go rescue her."

Kate took the watch from him and checked the time. "Anthony, it has been seven min–"

"Lord Campbell, it was quite kind of you to call."

Alas, it was too late.

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thekatebridgerton · 1 year ago

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Ok funny idea, modern AU, the spouses are friends and are a little put off by the Bridgerton who are privileged and not understanding how privileged they.

So they pretend to date each other to fend of the Bridgerton but since they change often, people are so confused because are ALL EIGHT of them dating each other or is their cheating!?

Until one day,

Simon text the group chat to save him from Daphne…

Kate: WAIT YOU ARE CHEATING ON ME!? I LOVE YOU, HOW COULD YOU SIMON!?

Simon: Kate, no it’s not what it looks like!!

Daphne and Anthony are staring at each other in shock until Philip comes, trying to run away from Eloise.

Philip sees them and decides to make a scene and looks at Kate: Kate!? You are cheating on me with Simon!?

Kate: Uh, I can explain!

Simon: Wait what!?

Sophie then comes, trying to fend off Benedict and grabs Philip’s arm: Wait, you are cheating ON ME!? HOW!?

Benedict and Eloise look at Anthony and Daphne all confused and baffled.

Then Michael and Penelope come.

Michael looks at Sophie: YOU ARE CHEATING ON ME!?

Penelope smacking Michael’s arm: EXCUSE ME MICHAEL!? HOW COULD YOU!!

Francesca and Colin stare in bafflement.

Then Lucy and Garett come hand in hand and freeze at the other six and the six of them shouted:

Kate, Sophie, and Penelope: GARETH HOW COULD YOU!?

Simon, Philip, and Michael: LUCY WHY!?

Gregory and Hyacinth are staring at their siblings stunned.

Look at that two asks for the price of one.

Okay so clarification before I answer this ask, Yes to the first part, the second part….I'm feeling a bit awkward about this, to be honest. It's just coming across as kinda cringy, you know? Because I personally credit the Bridgerton spouses with a high degree level of intelligence, in every situation except when horniness is involved, this author has always HC that the spouses are smarter than the Bridgertons to a certain degree, and the only moments they’ve actually been more stupid than the Bridgertons has been when their horniness surpassed their common sense.

Which is why, while I do think that the Bridgerton significant others would be the type of idiots hatch a plan to pretend to date each other in order to get away from the Bridgertons, I don’t think they would get caught. What I do think is that someone in the group had too much horniness induced stupidity and actually came clean which sort of created a very funny chain reaction of miscomunication. So in this scenario here’s what I think happened.

Kate is sick of Anthony being garbage in human form with the push and pull between her and Sienna, Penelope low key thinks Colin is a jealous idiot who may result to stalking soon and destroy her secret Gossip Column when he finds out about it, Sophie is dowright ready to sue Benedict for workplace harassment because he won’t let her do her Live in nurse duties in peace, Simon is afraid to find Daphne somehow sneaking into his room one night to have babies which he’s not ready for, Michael is really trying to be a gentleman and not hook up with Francesca whenever she asks him to teach her how to be Wicked and Phillip is just a dude that can’t escape Eloise tendency to boss him around. Meanwhile Gareth and Lucy were just chillin with their respective guardians (Kate and Simon) but somehow got caught in a teenage love triangle with Hermione and Haselby. Because Gregory thinks he can steal Lucy from Haselby and Hyacinth thinks Gareth is looking too much at Hermione. Hence the plan.

So Kate and Simon of course pretend to date each other, because sure they are both athletic, hot people who like to drink posh tea, that gives Gareth and Lucy the excuse to spend time together fending off Greg and Hyacinth, because if Kate and Simon were dating then wouldn’t it be natural for their adopted siblings to also ‘fall inlove’, meanwhile Sophie and Phillip strike the most unconventional pairing ever, using the excuse that they’re both going to the same therapist and bonded over shared childhood trauma, mostly because if Penelope tried pretending to date Phillip they would be so awkwardly awful they’d get discovered in 5 seconds flat. Which leaves Penelope and Michael to ‘take their friendship’ to the next step and also pretend to date.

So Kate basically tells Anthony that oops she’s dating Simon now because, umm ahh, she’s so hot she actually extracted commitment from the Hastings manwhore extraordinaire, meanwhile Simon explains to Daphne that he’s super committed to Kate, who doesn’t…want children? Yup, that’s why he’s dating her, Kate is a modern lady who is cool with adopting teenage Lucy and Gareth and never having kids of their own. He’s a rake, who aint having kids, hence why Kate is perfect for him. Anthony of course gets very mad but can’t do anything about it, neither can Daphne who is absolutely heartbroken.

Lucy is the opposite of Simon, she then tells Gregory that she’s discovered that Gareth is the love of her life, because Gareth… is okay with her getting married to Haselby (who totally convinced his senator father that he’s going to marry Lucy once they graduate highschool because he’s very straight, so straight, really), Gareth is 100% into being Lucy’s lover when they go to college and giving her lots of babies she can pass off as Haselby’s kids, because you know he’s a stud. And her gay fiancée is totally on board, so please just go away and let Lucy have a torrid love affair with Gareth. Gareth too, tells Hyacinth that he’s having a torrid love affair with Lucy, not Hermione, because Lucy is 100% understanding of his need to marry an heiress after college and she’s not opposed to sharing him, in fact their love is so strong they’ve been together since Kate and Simon got involved and when they both get married to other people for convenience sake, they will continue their torrid love affair. See how super inlove with Lucy he is.

Phillip and Sophie meanwhile just tell Ben and Eloise that they are so inlove, nothing can break them apart, their shared trauma has created an unbreakable bond of love, but really they just use their dates to plan each other’s respective professional futures. Because Phillip is totally up for sending Sophie back to school to get her buisness degree, and Sophie is out here planning on how to grow Phillip’s alternative medicine business', encouraging him to get his masters in bothanical research, the kids too are super on board with the ‘Education is money’ plan, so these two are seriously on their path to become billionaires, and Simon is going to be their primary investor once they form an official pharmaceutical research company. Benedict who? Sophie is on her path to greatness, and Phillip and his kids are doing all they can to become the award winning academic family they know they can be.

Michael and Penelope obviously end up being the ones who have the most fun out of all the couples, going as far as getting engaged and inviting the other six to their fake engagement party. Penelope can freely claim they were friends that started seeing each other as something more and Michael is okay with hyping Penelope up as the most beautiful girl he’s ever met, so of course he proposed. She gets protection from gossip (and Protection from Colin) and Michael gets a shield against Francesca’s horny intentions with his virtue. If he gets socked in the jaw by Colin, well, that's his business' okay.

I think that they begin tripping up because the Bridgertons realize that their cover stories don’t match and begin poking holes at it. Because they’re just so jealous they can’t help it. And that’s when horniess starts overriding the spouses natural intelligence. I don’t know who trips up first, but I know that at one point, someone cornered their beloved in a library and said person threw a friend under the bus accidentally.

Maybe Kate was cornered by Anthony and lets it slip that Gareth doesn’t want to sleep with Lucy in the obsessive way Anthony wants to sleep with her (She probably saw his abs in their full glory, that poor woman, Kate.exe not found). Or Daphne catches Simon in one of his horny moments and he lets it slip that Michael has more fun taking Penelope to the theatre and the horse derby than he does when he’s doing romantic things with her, or maybe it’s Lucy, who casually mentions to the friendzoned Gregory that Kate has been her second mother since childhood and has always wanted a big family, which contradicts what Simon told Daphne, or maybe a horny unaware Michael would have told Francesca that Sophie is more interested in going back to school than in Phillip himself, so they’re unlikely to get engaged soon (This one was probably undone by a shot of Francesca’s bare ankle and I’m not even sorry for him). All I know is that it wasn’t Sophie, and it wasn’t Phillip, because those two do not confess things under pressure. But it could have been anyone that started the chain reaction of the Bridgertons thinking ‘hey maybe these people think were idiots’ and prompted them to work together and pool their one brain cell to catch their significant others in their own web of deception.

In my opinion, I don’t see the miscommunication happening in the way Anon suggested, but I do see the spouses accidentally pushing their friends under the bus when they get too horny and short circuit. And causing a very funny chain reaction of ‘I caught you in your own lie’ and ‘no, I wasn’t lying, I was just bending the truth a lot’ defensive arguments that would be extremely funny to read about.

And that’s the tea.

#fake dating au #polin #kanthony #benophie #so it's kind of a funny story #bridgertons being idiots #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #penelope featherington #kate sharma #honestly Sophie should have pressed charges #Kate being sick of being in a love triangle with Anthony and Sienna is my favorite HC #Phillip just wanted to study in peace #Colin was low key already stalking Penelope and we all know it

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sweetbuckybarnes · 1 year ago

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The Eras Tour: 07. Act V: Speak Now

Pairings: Colin Bridgerton + Penelope Featherington, Anthony + Kate Bridgerton

Polin Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Everyone watched as Taylor Swift disappeared into the stage in the diamond, in the middle of the stage. As the colours of the stage changed from black it transformed into a pink-purple colour.

Penelope lets out a gasp. "It's the Speak Now era!" She jumps around, looking up at Kate (only glancing at Colin for a split second). "It's the Speak Now era!" She said to Kate.

Penelope was the biggest Swiftie that Colin knew, she was closely followed by Kate and Hyacinth. When he looked down his row at his baby sister, it looked like there were tears in her eyes. He knew that the Speak Now era would forever be Hyacinth's favourite.

The gentle acoustic guitars meant it could only be one song she was going to be, Enchanted.

"There I was again tonight, forcing laughter, faking smiles. Same old tired, lonely place, walls of insincerity. Shifting eyes and vacancy, vanished when I saw your face. All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you."

Penelope and the two Swifties wrapped their arms around each other as Taylor Swift walked out in a long ballgown. Exactly how Penelope always imagined a ballgown.

"Your eyes whispered, 'Have we met?', across the room, your silhouette. Starts to make its way to me, the playful conversation starts, counter all your quick remarks, like passing notes in secrecy."

"And it was enchanting to meet you, all I can say is I was enchanted to meet you."

The song soon reached its bridge. "This is me praying that this was the very first page, not where the storyline ends. My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again. These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon, I was enchanted to meet you," which soon went into Taylor Swift's stream of consciousness at the time.

"Please, don't be in love with someone else. Please, don't have somebody waiting on you," Colin watched as Penelope nearly curled up in a ball, nearly screaming the next two lines out. "Please, don't be in love with someone else! Please, don't have somebody waiting on you!"

If Penelope wasn't in a relationship with someone, she was definitely in love with whoever it was - Colin wished it was on him. But, when he remembers the guy she took to her prom...

"This night is sparkling, don't you let it go, I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. I'll spend forever wondering if you knew. This night is flawless, don't you let it go, I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone. I'll spend forever wondering if you knew, I was enchanted to meet you."

The elevated platform she had been standing on lowered her in line with the stage, and she made her way back up the stage - the same way she came back down.

"Please, don't be in love with someone else. Please, don't have somebody waiting on you."

Looking over her shoulder into the crowd, Taylor Swift disappeared into the stage, and the Speak Now era was finished.

"Is she only doing one song?" Kate asked, looking down at Penelope.

Penelope looked over her shoulder at Kate. "Speak Now just got the evermore treatment!"

#polin #polin fic #colin x pen #pen x colin #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #penelope bridgerton #kate bridgerton #colin bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #Spotify

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cvldbones · 4 months ago

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one single thread of gold

chapter 1 (of 11): nineteen

Over the course of a decade, Kate and Anthony keep finding, and losing, and choosing each other.

They tell me, "grief is just love letting go" They say it like milk has been spilled on the floor They say they don't know who I am anymore Well, I just have never shown anger before

***

The department chair’s office is cold.

It is a silly thing to fixate on, but Anthony needs something to ground him. He welcomes the tension of his muscles, the frigidity of his limbs. He is surprised to find that he cannot see his own breath, with each violent exhale; even with the shades drawn, Anthony is aware of the frost that creeps along the windows, of the way the stone walls seem to be leeching every last bit of warmth from the fire roaring in the hearth. November is always bitter in the city, but it seems almost cruel in its tenor this year.

His eyes rove about the room carelessly. He has been here more times than he can count – as a child, towed by his father; as a prospective student, eagerly bouncing his leg as he listened to Professor Hewitt talk on and on and on about the opportunities he would have here; as this, a strange half-man, half-boy, funereal black sticking to his skin. When he was younger, the room retained an air of mystery, with walls adorned with the portraits of the department chairs of years past, the bookshelves nearly splintering beneath decades-old tomes. Everything is dark wood, jewel tones, leather and velvet; it reeks of royalty and antiquity and purpose.

His father used to say that he loved attending a university so old; it made him feel that he was part of history. That he was leaving a mark.

Anthony studies the blood crusting the backs of his knuckles and wishes he could summon a laugh.

He remembers sitting here, on his first day back, Professor Hewitt’s face both somber and pitying. If you are not ready, he had said, his tone earnest and gentle and so fucking grating to Anthony’s ears, then you just say the word. What word would that have been, Anthony had wondered? What word could he have uttered, so singular, so penetrating, to make everyone realize the breadth of the agony he was experiencing?

So, of course, he had said nothing. He had nodded. He had gone to classes. He had let the anger fester, a wound untended, and now – well, now he is right back where he began.

He imagines what his father would say, if he were the one to have received the call. There would be disappointment on his face, certainly. Perhaps even a touch of amusement. But there, underneath it all, would be worry. Concern. Care. And Anthony would be lying if he said he did not yearn for it, just a bit. He would be lying if he said it did not make him feel sick.

When the door to the office creaks open, he doesn’t flinch. He keeps his gaze steady on the mahogany of the desk, flexing his fist almost unconsciously. The stretch of skin causes a slight flash of pain, and he clings to it. Relishes it, even.

Professor Hewitt does not speak as he takes his seat in the large, leather chair across from him. He steeples his hands on the desk, resting his chin atop them, studying Anthony with a level look that is far too discerning for his liking. Anthony clenches his jaw, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood.

“Anthony,” the man finally sighs, and it is his father’s best friend, his godfather, sitting across from him then. Not the department chair. Not a person to dole out punishment.

And Anthony fucking hates it.

Read more on AO3!

#kanthony #kanthony fic #bridgerton #bridgerton fic #mine

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bridgertonbabe · 2 years ago

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Do each of the siblings know of each other's secret affairs in the meddling violet au? Do they help to cover for one another?

To an extent they're all sort of aware, knowing full well that it's highly unlikely that all eight of them are all simply abstaining from sexual activity.

Genuinely none of them would have thought that Francesca was carrying on with her late husband's cousin, and since she's the only one who's previously been married and isn't primarily hanging around Bridgerton House, she's been the most successful in managing to keep her affair behind closed doors.

Anthony twigged that Daphne was sleeping with the duke and stormed into Hastings House while she was there and demanded satisfaction from his old friend - only for Daphne to counteract that she would in turn demand satisfaction from Kate Sharma. The siblings glare at each other before Anthony backs down, saying there'll be no reason for a duel so long as Simon marries his sister. Daphne once again retaliates by saying she won't duel Kate as long as she marries Anthony. With eyes narrowed, neither one refusing to budge, Anthony turns on his heel and leaves. While not remotely happy that his sister is in a casual relationship with a nobleman, he knows he would be the biggest hypocrite if he didn't follow the same example he had tried to force Daphne to lead.

Meanwhile Eloise goes to Benedict to cover for her, asking him to make himself scarce one weekend a month from the family home and go along with the ploy that the pair of them have gone to My Cottage for a few days to escape the Ton. When Benedict enquires as to why he would need to provide her with an alibi, Eloise replies that she won't ask questions about him skulking around the servants quarters in the middle of the night if he doesn't ask questions about where she's disappearing to on a monthly basis. Never one to argue, Benedict simply shrugs, "touche" and the pair dutifully don't poke each other's noses in the other's business while also covering for one another.

Colin and Gregory actually bump into each other on the same landing one night just as they're both leaving the rooms of their lovers during a party being hosted at Aubrey Hall. They stare at one another, Colin shocked that his baby brother is leaving Lady Lucinda's bedroom, and Gregory incredulous that his brother is creeping out of Penelope Featherington's room. They simply exchange a silent nod of agreement to never speak on the matter and then they go their separate ways.

And as for Hyacinth, as the baby of the family truly none of them think she is capable of entering into a relationship of a sexual nature; but to Hyacinth she thinks it's perfectly acceptable, since all of her siblings have set the standard before her. Most nights she mounts pillows under her duvet to make it look as though she's in bed, climbs down the trellis, and while dressed in men's clothes dashes across Mayfair to Gareth's lodgings. Naturally Gareth voices his concerns for her safety and well-being but Hyacinth is an adrenaline junkie and gets a kick out of her risk-taking (also part of the reason why she isn't fussed about marrying Gareth). Funnily enough while none of her family are any of the wiser of her antics, the lovers of her siblings have all at some point spotted her hightailing it through the streets of London - and yet they all simply turn a blind eye to it, thinking to themselves that it's none of their business (plus they've each got enough of their own respective Bridgerton lover's shit to deal with to even venture any concern as to what Hyacinth's up to).

#asks #meddling violet au

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zalrb · 2 years ago

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more unpopular kate/kathony (kanthony?) opinions! - bridgerton 2.07 review

1. I’m watching this like, wow Edwina doesn’t get a happy ending. Hell, even in the Directors’ Cut of LOTR, Eowyn gets with Faramir!

2. Oh great, is Kate going to masturbate to the memory of her kissing Anthony the Mouse?

3. She looks so stiff in that kiss though.

4. Yes.

5. This entire situation reminds me of this part of Poor Unfortunate Souls

6. They’re so going to change the lyrics in the live action. Anyway, off-topic.

7. And Kate just looks annoyed that Edwina won’t talk to her rather than contrite.

8. I just find the Bridgerton family extremely annoying.

9. “Reputation! Reputation!” Oh my god, Anthony is a man, he’ll be FINE.

10. “I give credit to your imagination, Miss Danbury, a bigger story I cannot foresee.” Lmao, maybe don’t speak, Kate?

11. AND THEY GAZE AT EACH OTHER ACROSS THE PROMENADE BECAUSE THEY ARE IN LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE.

12. Even though Edwina is right there and all of the ton is watching because looooooooooooooooooooove.

13. I just don’t have time for Olitz-like ships.

14. This Eloise scene is long.

15. “A ball.” Ha, Edwina’s eye roll, she deserves her own show.

16. NOW THAT ANTHONY IS NO LONGER LIVING A LIE, THE DOG FINDS HIM SUITABLE AND DOGS ARE GREAT JUDGES OF CHARACTER. TRUE LOVE WILL ALWAYS SET YOU FREE.

17. Lmao, sorry, I find this love story insufferable.

18. omg guyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyys, he just can’t HELP but stare at her

19. I just feel like Edwina deserves to do the Regency version of this to Anthony

20. Their love and attraction is SO POWERFUL that they’ll have to stay on OTHER SIDES OF THE ROOM DURING THE BALL.

21. Ugh.

22. I don’t know if I can live through another Kathony dance.

23. Derry Girls Clare should just be Belle.

24. Mouse Man Mouse Man

25. HE GOT A WHIFF OF HER PERFUME AND NOW HE IS IN HEAVEN, RELISHING THE SCENT OF HER.

26. And this is the other thing too, Kate is extremely passive. Like, OK Edwina doesn’t want to talk to her but if she’s supposed to want her happiness more than anything, if this is supposed to be killing her inside, then at least try to make amends but she’s just standing around looking wooden and maybe sometimes catching Anthony’s eye.

27. Oh jesus christ are eloise and whatshisface going to kiss now that they’re arguing?

28. No. Good.

29.

I mean has it though?

30. “I am reaping the consequences of destroying it” girl, you’re masturbating in bed. Like just be HONEST.

31. “Happy endings do not exist, Kate” well, not for you, Edwina, but they will for her.

32. Anthony is so fucking shameless.

33. “We should be ashamed of what we did” and there’s going to be a speech about how he’s not ashamed or how she’s not ashamed, a Delena “I’m not sorry” speech. I don’t care.

34. WHY is Colin a character? WHAT DOES HE DO.

35. He gives sooooooooooo much more than she does. He carries them, honestly.

35. Oh yes, sniping and arguing, which is just their foreplay. I’m bored. We’ve done this already.

36. Yes, yes, consume

I feel like the only time I’ve ever been like I get it, they didn’t even use the world consume

37. Oh they do make him do the “Do you think I want to be in this position” McDreamy “DO YOU THINK I WANT TO LOOK AT YOU” the more they drag this out, the more impatient I become and not in the way they want. I feel like Garrett from Superstore but instead of affair it’s get together

38. Anthony: I’ve lived my life for my family. Kate: OMG SAME. Me

I had to see it. All I’ve seen is both of you complain.

39. I don’t think a stylized sex scene worked here but that’s just a personal preference, if they’re all like “YOU CONSUME ME” “I CAN’T ESCAPE YOU” “I LIVE FOR MY FAMILY LET’S LIVE FOR OURSELVES” and they kiss and he fingers her then he’s all i’ll stop and she’s like don’t, I want to see/hear the frenzy, the heavy breathing, I want it to seem as organic as possible, like I would want a Shameless sex scene at least at first and then they can do the stylistic one during round 2 or something

40. KATE. I’M SICK OF THIS.

You fucked him. OWN IT. Because I don’t find the “journey” to her just allowing herself to be happy well executed at all because they don’t delve into Kate (or any of the characters) enough for this to be anything other than by-the-numbers and superficial so this just comes across as disingenuous and that’s the other problem with stylized sex scenes, they’re deliberate and don’t give off the impression of impulsivity or the heat of the moment so I’m just like IT’S TOO LATE FOR THIS.

41. This is why I like Cersei-like characters they just fucking own it.

42. AND ANTHONY IS SUCH. A DICK.

43. OH NO, SHE’S GALLOPING IN THE RAIN.

44. Lmao, I am not watching anything Bridgerton EVER again.

45. It’s done.

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checkoutmybookshelf · 2 years ago

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Of Fire and Feathertingtons: Chapter 3

Well hello friends, and welcome to my second Polin fic! This one builds on The Polin Fic (I Could Have Told You 'Bout the Long Nights on Ao3) so be sure to read that before diving into this one!

Like the other one, this fic is safe for work, but a few warnings do apply! If house fires, house fire injuries, mild gore, and mild blood aren't your thing, then don't be afraid to give this fic a pass. I'll be updating it every week here and on Ao3, so check back for updates.

I hope you enjoy this Polin fic, I had a blast writing it!

Colin was typically most at ease at family dinners, but the omnipresent unease he had felt since Felix had come to stay with him and Penelope had significantly increased in the carriage, and he was finding it difficult to relax. He and Gregory had planned to finish an ongoing chess game before Gregory went away to school, but he was too tightly wound, and found himself pacing slowly across the room, untouched glass of scotch in hand. He would be glad when Pen had finished reading the children stories and rejoined them.

The entire family—with the exception of Francesca, who was in Scotland—had gathered, and since Colin had not been feeling up to playing, Gregory had attached himself to the knot comprised of Anthony, Benedict, Simon, and an extremely animated Eloise. Sophie, Kate, Hyacinth, and Violet were chatting and laughing around a small coffee table, embroidery hoops in hand. Felix was slouched in a chair approximately equidistant between the two groups, a book at the end of one outstretched arm, and his glass dangled loosely from his other hand. He was close enough to technically be part of the gathering but just beyond the comfortable radius of functional inclusion of either of the small groups. Colin was puttering past the window that looked out into Number 5’s back garden in daylight when the reflection of the small fire in the fireplace to ward off an unseasonal evening chill caught his eye. As he watched the flames dance in the glass, his mind drifted to Pen’s afternoon project.

Mapping out the location of the fires in Mayfair was an interesting proposition. There was no discernable pattern he could see to streets or house numbers, but if Pen was right about there being a single arsonist rather than a pair, then he would be limited in how far he would be able to travel to set fires. Particularly if he was preparing beforehand and was bringing his supplies with him to each house. Perhaps there would be a way to see if there was a particular distance between fires. That might give them some sense of how far the rogue could travel to set fires, and then they could begin to pinpoint where his home or workroom was.

The sooner they found the blackguard, the sooner his Pen could stop getting up at all hours of the night and putting herself in danger to ensure that no women or children were left out in the cold or trampled by the very people attempting to help. And the sooner she would stop displeasing the queen. Colin sighed quietly; only Penelope Bridgerton, née Featherington, could manage to infuriate a monarch a second time, particularly not after she had been brought into the royal fold because she was too dangerous to be left to her own devices. He did not think that Penelope knew that after the third fire, when she had been visiting her mother, a concerned Lady Danbury had invaded his study. Lady Danbury had informed him in no uncertain terms that the Queen preferred her ladies to listen and to pull their strings without making a scene, and in her estimation, appearing at fires violated that mandate.

He had attempted to talk her into staying home when he helped fight fires, but the flat look she had given him had told him in no uncertain terms that she would not stand by and let her peers and their children be risked if she could do anything about it. He had given up that line of argument because he knew as well as she did that she was safer if he knew what her plans were and did not accidentally work at cross-purposes. If there was one thing that not even the wrath of the Queen could do, it was force him to act in a way that would make Pen less safe.

They needed to find this cad quickly. He would offer to help Pen with her work the next afternoon; two heads would be better than one.

Colin’s thoughts were interrupted by a brief coughing fit from Violet. He turned to see Kate hand his mother a cup of tea. Anthony’s and Benedict’s heads had also craned about to check on their mother. A few sips later, the cough subsided, and Violet chuckled in that quiet way of hers.

“The rain shower we had yesterday evening must have gotten into the woodpile,” she said. “Colin, dearest, would you open the window for a moment or two? We can let the smoke clear out a little. How you men put up with this at your gentlemen’s clubs, I shall never understand.”

Colin opened the window and stepped away from the chill breeze as Anthony and Simon made polite comments about sending someone ‘round to ensure her wood pile was properly cured and not minding the smoke, respectively. Sophie pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders as Kate rose and moved closer to the warmth of the fire. Anthony looped an arm behind her back, pulling her close to help keep her warm.

The smoke cleared for a moment once the window opened, but then it grew thicker. Within minutes, everyone was coughing on and off from the smoke. Anthony and Simon were attempting to see whether there was a closed flue or blockage in the chimney. Benedict had wrapped Sophie in his jacket for warmth and walked her and Eloise to the window, where the air was fresher. Colin’s unease rose as he set his drink down to join them. Before he stepped toward the fireplace, however, the scent of the smoke changed: burning grease. Just then, Gregory’s voice piped up.

“This wood isn’t wet; it’s perfectly cured.” Colin’s heart turned to ice, and his stomach fell through the floor.

“Mother, we must get out now!” Colin’s voice was raised and terse. Anthony looked at him as though he was speaking gibberish.

“Colin, what on earth—” The housekeeper burst through the door, panting and coughing.

“Lady Bridgerton, we must go. There is a fire!” Colin had Hyacinth under one arm and his mother’s hand in his in less than a second, shepherding them toward the door as smoke billowed in through the open door. Benedict was close on his heels, with arms around Sophie and Eloise. Simon had Daphne’s hand in his, Anthony had Kate and Gregory’s hands in his, and Felix slouched behind. As they passed the hallway that led to the kitchen and nursery, Colin heard Sophie behind him ask Benedict, “What about Charles?” Colin’s head flicked back; the hallway was already in flames.

“The nanny and the maids surely got the children out. We will find them outside,” called Benedict over the crackle of the flame. And Pen was there, Colin thought. She’ll make sure they get out. She has to get out safely. He looked up briefly. The ceiling above him was largely obscured with smoke, but he could see bright glowing spots that he was sure meant the upper floors of the house were already on fire. The roar he associated with house fires was growing, and he began to hear wood creak and groan. He sped up, pulling his mother and youngest sister through the house and out the front door with him into the cold, blessedly smoke-free night air.

Colin did not stop until he had crossed the road to the small huddle of household servants. Violet and her housekeeper immediately began a head count to ensure that everyone in the household had made it out. Colin had turned to face the house. The roof was already in flames. There was no doubt in Colin’s mind that the same arsonist had struck his mother’s home. His fists clenched. When they found the man, Colin was no longer sure that he would live to face the crown’s justice. He might be beaten to death by at least five and possibly as many as eleven Bridgertons.

As he imagined pounding the arsonist to a paste, he scanned the small crowd. He wouldn’t be able to see the children in the press of people, but Pen’s hair, as she reunited the boys with their parents, would reflect the light of the flames; he’d be able to see her. He was on his second scan of the crowd, palms perspiring. Surely, surely, he would see—

A flash of red curls. He eeled through the crowd, headed for the flaming hair. But when his hand landed on the shoulder, he found suiting wool beneath his fingers, not the soft satin of Pen’s dress. Felix whirled to face the person who had grabbed his shoulder. Colin would have expected any number of expressions—fear, anger, and many flavors of disgust—but in the flash of expression beneath the startle on Felix’s face, Colin swore he saw euphoria. Then Felix’s face resolved into something reminiscent of bored distaste.

“Have you seen Penelope?” He would worry about that expression later; right now, Pen and the boys were the priority. Colin needed to know they were safe. He had to calm the pounding of his heart and swallow the bitter taste of fear in his mouth. He would not lose all of his nephews and his wife in one terrible night. He did not think his siblings would survive the loss of their children, or that he would survive losing Pen.

“What do you mean nobody has seen them?” Colin whipped around at the anguished tone in his mother’s voice.

“We can’t find the nanny, the children, or Mrs. Bridgerton, ma’am!” Violet Bridgerton’s normally stoic housekeeper was crying. “They must still be inside.”

Kate’s cry was wordless and immediately followed by a yell from Anthony. Colin watched, frozen in place, as Kate sprinted back toward the front door, Anthony on her heels, but somehow unable to catch her. Somewhere behind him, Colin heard Daphne screaming at Simon to let her go, and Simon telling her that she would do no good if she got herself killed. Sophie’s sobs were muffled in what Colin assumed was Benedict’s chest. From the house was a deep creaking groan that Colin knew all too well from watching too many houses burn to the ground this summer. A support beam was coming down, and Kate was nearly at the top of the steps.

“Stop, Kate!” bellowed Colin. Kate did not look back, but the miniscule hesitation in her step let Anthony catch up to her, lifting her off her feet and swinging her around to shield his wife with his body as a support beam fell diagonally across the doorway, thoroughly blocking it with debris and flame. The back of Anthony’s jacket was singed, but did not catch fire. Colin saw his brother’s face as Anthony realized that there was no way he could get to his sons. Anthony’s face on the day their father had died had lived in Colin’s nightmares for years. This was inexpressibly worse. Kate’s face was blank as she slithered bonelessly to the ground, legs simply refusing to support her.

Daphne and Sophie had gone silent behind Colin as he started toward the house. Kate and Anthony had to move; they would be burned. He himself was moving on instinct, his mind refusing to think, to process what had just happened. Wordlessly, he lifted Kate in one arm, holding her up by main force, and reached up to take Anthony by the shoulder, pulling him down the stairs away from the flames. At the bottom of the steps, Benedict scooped up Kate, and Simon took Anthony’s other side. Violent had Sophie and Daphne under her arms, with Hyacinth on Daphne’s other side. All four women had tears running down their faces. Gregory was standing between the crowd and his older brothers, looking small and lost.

If it had not been for the absence of the fire brigade—and where the bloody hell are they? Colin thought, furious—and the silence that had fallen over the stunned household and family, then the young, high voices yelling, “Mama! Papa!” would have gone completely unheard.

Colin wasn’t sure whether Benedict dropped Kate or if she launched herself to the ground, but she was the first of the three mothers to reach the children. She was talking a mile a minute in Hindustani as she quickly but carefully took baby Charles from the sling around Augie and handed him to a still-sobbing Sophie before propelling the older boy into Daphne’s arms and clutching her two to her. Within moments, all the men had shucked off their jackets, wrapping the children in them against the chill in the air.

Sophie had collapsed to the ground entirely, Gregory’s jacket and her shawl around Charles, and Benedict’s jacket over her shoulders as he held both his wife and son. Colin’s and Anthony’s jackets were wrapped around Edmund and Miles as Edmund chattered at his mother, rapid-fire, in the same language she was speaking. Despite Augie being arguably too big for Daphne to comfortably hold, he had been wrapped in Simon’s jacket, and Daphne had him in her arms, with Simon holding both of them. Violet was trying to keep a hand on each of her grandchildren at once while trying to comfort Daphne and Sophie.

Edmund was increasingly alarmed, wriggling in his parents’ grip and yelling at his mother. Anthony wasn’t even trying to ask for an explanation in English. Miles and Charles were simply crying, adding to the hubbub and confusion.

Between the fire, the voices, and the crying, Colin couldn’t make out any sensical phrases, and did not truly expect to. He was scanning the crowd again because if the boys made it out, then so had—

“—Penelope!” Augie was typically a serious, soft-spoken child, something that the Bridgertons collectively agreed he had gotten from Simon rather than Daphne. His soft-spoken voice was often overlooked when the Bridgertons got together, particularly since both Edmund and Miles had inherited the general Bridgerton boisterousness, in addition to Kate’s outspokenness. Colin should not have been able to hear him over or under the noise, but when his nephew said his wife’s name, all other sounds fell away, and Colin zeroed in on his sister’s child.

“Auntie Penelope got stuck taking us out the back and told me to tell you and Papa,” Augie finished telling Daphne. Daphne’s eyes met Colin’s for the split second it took him to process the implications of Augie’s words. Then, he bolted for the back door of Number 5.

The door was billowing smoke, and there was a threatening orange glow but no flames around the actual door itself, so Colin had no trouble getting in the building. He could see Pen when he entered. She was on the floor, unconscious, apparently pinned under a burning beam, barely twenty feet from the door itself. She had gotten so close to getting herself and the children out; she had gotten the boys out. The beam she was trapped beneath was burning, but her dress didn’t seem to be. Skidding to his knees beside her, he saw as quickly as she had that there was no way to free the dress, which had actually begun to burn, but not the parts next to her skin, just the train of her skirt. She had managed to get almost all her buttons undone, had gotten so close to freeing herself. He wasn’t too late.

“The deal was,” he growled, as he undid the two absurdly well-stitched buttons that had nearly cost Pen her life, “that you would never, ever go inside a burning building!” Sliding her shoulders and arms from her sleeves, he dragged her free of the overgown. “I’ll stay outside, Colin. I’ll just make sure that the women and children are safe,” he said, in a mockery of Pen’s earnest voice. “Hang the bloody Queen and Lady bloody Danbury for being right. I should never have let you risk your life attending fires.” He lifted Pen into his arms, feeling lightheaded. “You are going to breathe, Penelope. Do you hear me?” He ran for the door.

Had he been a hair slower, neither of them would have survived the fire. Colin could hear the death throes of the structural supports of the house, could hear pops and crashes as more and more pieces of the house fell. Another beam—smaller than the one that had trapped Penelope but burning merrily and falling from a much greater height—slid from its mooring and dropped on Colin’s shoulders, knocking him clean off his feet. Somehow, he managed to slide one hand beneath Penelope’s head and neck to protect them and caught himself on a straight arm. That he managed to hold himself on that arm and not collapse atop Penelope when he felt the bone snap and felt the burning across his shoulders as the beam pinned him was nothing short of a miracle. Colin bellowed as the pain swamped him; he would swear his skin was melting, but he couldn’t let go of Pen, and he couldn’t clear the beam from that position through brute strength.

His head swam. He had to move, had to find a way to get up, or they would both die. His vision was blurry, and he was having trouble thinking straight, so he didn’t dare curl his head down and let the beam roll forward off him; he couldn’t be sure it wouldn’t hit Pen. How it hadn’t already slid down his back and pinned his legs he didn’t know, but if it did that, he would be well and truly trapped. He couldn’t move, couldn’t get them out. His body trembled with exertion.

“I’m so sorry, Pen,” he whispered, letting his head drop.

The beam lifted away.

“Come on, Colin,” grunted Anthony, in his ear. Colin clutched Penelope to him, sure he was hallucinating Anthony and Simon. Instead of wasting time trying to take Penelope from Colin, the two men lifted the pair bodily and ran with them the final ten feet of the hallway, through the curtain of fire that had covered the door, and far enough into the lane to be safe from the building as it collapsed in on itself.

Colin clutched Pen to him with his good arm, watching her face, willing her to breathe. She had breathed in so much smoke; had it been too much? People were yelling at him, trying to take Pen from him, but he ignored all of it, watching as Pen sucked in a breath and began to cough. She’s breathing. She will be all right, he thought. That was when something heavy but soft landed on his back, followed by a flurry of blows. He yelled again at the pain in his back and his arm. As his vision swirled and the strength drained from his body, Benedict was in front of him, catching first Pen and then Colin, as his consciousness fled the pain and noise. Before he was completely gone, Colin caught a glimpse of Felix’s face as Benedict passed Penelope—her eyes were fluttering open!—to her cousin, and the violently reverent expression on his face disturbed Colin to his core and undoubtedly contributed to the horrific nightmares he slid into.

Once the nightmares subsided, Colin simply drifted, not awake by any means but also in too much pain to truly sleep. All he could do was float in the sea of his own pain, enduring as waves crested and broke. Sometimes he thought he heard voices: his mother’s, his siblings’, Pen’s. He could make sense of any of it, but they became his beacons, the lighthouses that promised him he was not lost, and that the tide would bear him back to consciousness and sensibility. He simply had to wait and keep his head above water.

Pain flares made that difficult; he imagined he heard Felix’s voice during one spike, and suddenly Penelope’s cousin’s face, as he had seen it at the fire, filled the sky. Colin nearly went under; only the thought that Pen had breathed, had opened her eyes, and was undoubtedly waiting for him to do the same made him hang on rather than sink into the comfortable oblivion he knew was below.

Slowly, so very slowly, the world solidified around him. The nebulous but overwhelming pain became sharper, located in particular places in his body, rather than being the end-all, be-all of existence. The universe shrunk from an endless sea to something that had definable, understandable edges and dimensions. His left arm throbbed dully, like when he had broken his leg as a child. His back and shoulders burned, but were simultaneously cooler than the lower half of his body. That was the worst pain, the burning sensation—he knew intellectually that he was not on fire, but his nerves and skin seemed not to have gotten that message. The arm and shoulders hurt more, but the irritation of the crick in his neck was what finally clicked reality fully back into place. He was lying on his stomach, so his head was turned, explaining the crick in his neck. He was fairly sure that he was only covered in a blanket to about the bottom of his ribcage, which would explain the odd sensation of being cool and burning simultaneously. His left arm felt compressed and oddly heavy—splinted? The desire to check led him quite naturally to open his eyes.

This was his room, his bed, but not the ones he shared with Pen. This was one of the two rooms he had grown up in, and a near-twin for the one at Aubrey Hall. He was at Bridgerton House. Were that the case, however, he should be faced with a wall, not the door. He couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. He was sure his head was faced away from the door; why could he see Penelope’s head bent over something in her lap, and his mother’s head bent over an embroidery hoop? The information from his eyes and the rest of his body were contradictory, and Colin was too thirsty, pained, and tired to reconcile the contradiction. Instead, he just looked at his wife.

A stray curl was tucked behind her ear, with the end bobbing around the level of her chin. She was sitting in a sunbeam, highlighting the softness of her skin and making it glow subtly. He knew her face so well; most people would think she was focused on whatever she held in her lap, but the focus crease between her eyebrows was missing. She was distracted. She was beautiful. And she was gloriously, wonderfully awake and all right. That eased a tension deep within Colin, and his shoulder muscles relaxed infinitesimally, setting off a fresh wave of burning across his back and shoulders.

As though she could feel his eyes on her, Pen’s chin lifted, and she met his eyes—through the mirror, Colin realized. She had put a mirror next to the bed, so he would be able to see her when he woke. His mind was still moving slowly; by the time he completed that thought and processed the swoosh-crackle sound of paper falling to the floor, Pen had bolted around the foot of the bed and was next to him, one gentle hand on his cheek, seemingly oblivious to the tears streaming down her own.

His mother was over Pen’s shoulder, her hand on his hair. “Welcome back, dearest,” she said. In the mirror over his mother’s shoulder, Colin saw Hyacinth’s head poke around the doorframe. His youngest sister’s bellow rivaled Anthony’s when she called out to the house that he was awake.

“Hyacinth,” Violet sighed, shaking her head. Penelope still hadn’t spoken or moved, just watched his face. As the thunder of feet bore down on the room, Colin attempted a grin.

“If you’re going to do anything scandalous, Pen, I’d do it now, before the entire household is here as an audience.” He was sure the grin was not up to his usual caliber, but it nonetheless broke the mask on Pen’s face, and she smiled that half lovestruck, half lovingly chiding smile that his best roguish grin never failed to elicit from her. She leaned down and kissed him gently. He lifted his good arm—admittedly somewhat awkwardly, from the angle, and painfully, as the burns on his shoulders pulled—and cradled the back of her head, reveling in the silky feel of her curls and the softness of her lips. They were both safe, both here, and Colin took a long moment to simply savor the fact.

They broke the kiss just as a chorus of “Uncle Colin, Uncle Colin!” filled the room, and Augie, Edmund, and Miles bounced in the door. Violet scooped up the enthusiastic Miles to prevent him from leaping onto Colin, and Penelope hugged Edmund around the shoulders to the same effect. Augie was practically bouncing, but not a danger of tackling his uncle. Kate and Daphne were hard on their children’s heels; Colin imagined that neither had allowed their children out of eyesight since the fire. All three boys spoke over each other, filling Colin in on what had been happening as Sophie—Charles in one arm, the other looped in Benedict’s arm—and the rest of the family squeezed into a room that was objectively too small to hold them all. Kate and Daphne had taken up positions on either side of Penelope, their arms around her shoulders.

The pain and pull in his neck and shoulders was more than worth it, as Colin ruffled his nephews’ hair and grinned as he listened to their stories about what they had been up to since the fire and declaring him and Auntie Pen heroes. For all he had just woken up, Colin found himself tiring fast. A rapid series of glances between Pen, his mother, Kate, and Daphne resulted in a veritable stampede of grandmother, mothers, and sons heading for the dining room with promises of treats. Penelope stayed at Colin’s side, and Anthony, Benedict, and Simon remained in the room. Benedict quietly brought Penelope’s chair around the bed so she could sit on it rather than the floor or the bed itself and avoid jostling Colin. Once she was settled, Colin took her hand in his good one, hiding a wince as he addressed Anthony.

“Everyone’s here. They couldn’t save Number 5?” Anthony hesitated, then muttered, “The hell with it,” and sat on the floor against the wall, putting himself on Colin’s eye level. He was quickly joined by Benedict and Simon.

“Number 5 burned to the ground, and so did one of the neighbor’s houses,” Anthony said. “There was another fire on the other side of Mayfair, and the fire brigade was called to the other one first. By the time they got to us, there was no saving either house.” Colin’s hand tightened around Penelope’s.

“Did everyone get out?” he asked.

“No. The children’s nanny was trapped trying to get to the nursery. A couple of maids in the neighbor’s attic didn’t make it out, either.”

“Damn,” said Colin, tiredly. “How are the boys? They seemed themselves.”

“Augie’s had nightmares,” Simon said, quietly. “But that’s no price at all for his life.”

“Edmund and Miles coughed a bit that night. They didn’t breathe enough smoke to really harm them, though. We owe Penelope an enormous debt,” added Anthony. “The house went up so quickly. By the time we knew the boys hadn’t been brought out, it would have been too late. The roof came down less than five minutes after we got you two out.”

“You gave us a hell of a scare,” said Benedict, quietly. “Your back was on fire when Anthony and Simon pulled you out of the house and holding yourself up on that broken arm nearly sent the bone through your skin.”

Penelope’s face was calm, but Colin could feel her hand tremble in his.

“And how long am I stuck in bed?” he asked. “How long have I been in bed?”

“Just a couple of days from the laudanum. Dr. Walker said you could get up when you felt strong enough, but wearing anything heavier than a shirt will be unpleasant for a few weeks,” said Anthony. “If you had had your jacket on, you might not have been so badly burned, but as it was, there wasn’t anything left of your waistcoat back, and your shirt wasn’t even fit for rags.”

“The doctor isn’t worried about infection,” Penelope chimed in. “He was fetched quickly enough. He was in this morning and says everything looks well.”

“So will you finally get some rest yourself?” Anthony asked her.

“Pen, you haven’t sat here for two days!” Colin exclaimed.

“We did feed her while she was here,” said Benedict, dryly. Simon snorted softly.

“Speaking of feeding people,” Penelope broke in. “I imagine if we sit here much longer, Colin’s stomach will make itself known.” Simon and Benedict hauled themselves up off the floor.

“I expect that means us, then,” Benedict said, cheerfully. “Come on, Viscount. Let’s give them a few minutes while we find some sandwiches.” Benedict hugged Penelope around the shoulders as Simon and Anthony each clasped Colin’s good hand in turn in that quiet way the Bridgertons had of acknowledging the emotions that had suddenly thickened in the room. Benedict finally released Penelope and clasped Colin’s hand before the three men left the room.

Penelope slid off the chair as soon as the door closed, nestling her head in next to Colin’s without jarring him. There were tears on her cheeks again, he noticed.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” she whispered.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “Have you really been sitting here for two days?”

“You cannot imagine for a moment that I’d leave you.”

“Pen, you breathed in so much smoke. You should have been resting.”

“The coughing stopped after the first day. I couldn’t leave you, and I couldn’t convince myself that it wasn’t my fault that you had to come back in for me. That if I had been just a little smarter, a little quicker, that you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” Penelope saw the change in Colin’s eyes and leaned in for another kiss, stopping his protests before they left his mouth. “I know, intellectually, I know, it’s not my fault. But Colin, I woke up, and you were on the ground in front of me, on fire. I couldn’t have left.” Her entire body trembled at that too-raw image.

“You got the boys out, Pen. Nothing is more important than that.” Colin’s shoulders were beginning to scream at all the movement, but he nonetheless reached out and curled his arm around her shoulders, pressing gentle kisses to her lips, her forehead. He could taste her tears.

“I sent Anna home in the wee hours of the morning to get my file on the arsonist. I couldn’t leave you and I couldn’t sleep, so I sat here, and I worked. I mapped out the locations of all the fires that followed the pattern.” She stopped suddenly. “Do you want to try sitting up? It will make eating easier.”

“That was quite the shift in conversation,” Colin said, pulling his head back a bit to try to see her whole face more clearly and wincing at the crick in his neck. “What don’t you want to tell me? My God, Pen, I’m not the arsonist, am I?” A genuine smile split Penelope’s face in spite of herself.

“If you are, you’ve done a terrible job,” she chided. “But Colin, the fires are…well, my map is not perfectly to scale, and there is no way to pinpoint a location exactly. There is room for human error and…” Her eyes went distant and worried. “You cannot tell anyone about this; it’s just a theory, and I have not yet shared it with Lady Danbury or the Queen.”

Colin frowned. He knew Penelope’s work was secret. He had been there when the Queen had surreptitiously named Penelope a dame and made her a clandestine member of the inner court. That Penelope felt the need to remind him of what had to remain secret spoke volumes about the stress she was under. She had found something significant.

“You know I will keep your secrets, Pen.”

“The fires form a circle, and at the center of that circle is our street. I think I was right, Colin. There is only one arsonist, and he isn’t some disgruntled tradesman or worker who resents the ton. I think he’s one of us.”

#polin #polin fic #polin fanfiction #polin bridgerton #colin x penelope #colin and penelope #colin bridgerton and penelope feathertington #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton books #regency fic #no beta we die like edmund #of fire and featheringtons

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alewritesfics · 2 years ago

Text

𝕾𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖎𝖕𝖎𝖙𝖞 3

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Summary: growing closer is easier than you thought

Word count: 2k

Warnings: talk of a shitty family, mentions of death, unedited, I think that's all

Serendipity masterlist masterlist

You hummed as you entered the library grabbing the first book you saw on the shelf and sitting down on an couch nearby. You flipped through the pages, finding it boring and discarding it away.

You stood up and walked to the shelves, ruffling through the books, a door opened and closed behind you but you ignored it and continued searching for a good book when you heard a throat being cleared behind you.

You turn around with a book on your hands, coming face to face with the viscount “Viscount Bridgerton” you muttered pushing past him to go sit down

You open the book, ignoring his eyes that were fixated upon you “If you have something to say, you should do it now, I do not like people staring at me like you do, and I do not like people who do not speak their minds”

“I heard what you said to Mrs. Wilson” He blurted out, you hummed in response

“If you are expecting an apology, you will not get one, I stand by what I said” You stated

“No, no, I am not asking for one” He shook his head

“Then?”

“I came to – wanted to apologize for how I… I treated you before” he muttered

You raised an eyebrow “Truly.” He said once he saw the disbelief on your face “You were right. We all lost Kate and everyone is hurting the same way that I am. You were also right saying that I shouldn’t act the way I am, Kate’s death is no excuse and you did not deserve to be on the receiving end of my ire”

You pursued your lips before sighing mulling over his words “I accept your apology, if only because you are Kate’s husband”

He smiled slightly “I propose we start over” he offered “put the bad first impression behind us and try to get along… for Kate”

You nodded “For Kate” he nodded and grabbed a book, sitting down on the couch beside you

And just like that, you both started over.

You both would not go entirely out of your way to seek the other but in the case that you did come across each other, you would greet the other politely, making small talk before you went your way.

That was only the first week. By the second, you would go to the library for your nightly reading fest, the viscount would join you half an hour after, where you both would speak about the books you previously read and he would recommend you books he had read and enjoyed.

And soon enough, you went from strangers, to acquaintances to, almost friends?, you were not quite friends but you were not acquaintances either.

“Mr. Bridgerton” you greeted once you entered the library once again one night, he tilted his head in greeting, very immersed in the pages of the book he was reading. You grabbed the book you were previously reading the night before and sat down next to Lord Bridgerton. Uncomfortable silence filling the room.

After a few minutes of you both reading, you felt Lord Bridgerton shift beside you, closed his book and turned to look at you “Can…” he hesitated “Can you tell me about Kate?”

You looked at him questioningly “How she was before coming to London” Lord Bridgerton clarified “She told me bits of her life but not everything as we spent our time doing…other things” you smother the chuckle you wanted to let out, and instead shook your head

“Well, I have no idea how her childhood was since my parents never did let me visit Kate’s family, because as you probably know, Kate’s father was not exactly rich, and my mother despite being born poor, after she married my father, she changed and prioritized money over everything” You replied “But after I went to live with her family, well, she spent all of her time taking care of Edwina, and me then, she used to spent all of her time teaching Edwina everything she would need to become a proper lady, never really spending any time doing anything other than that. It was very rare when she took some time for herself”

“But, she was always there for us, she listened to us whenever we had a problem and if we wanted to go somewhere but we couldn’t since it wasn’t proper for us to go out unchaperoned, she would take us” You smiled your mind taking you back to the time when everything was simple “There was this time when Edwina and I desperately wanted to go to a fair they were having on our native country, they had brought some new stuff, like opera concerts, or new jewelry, there was even this thing called fireworks, and since we never saw one, we wanted to see what it did”

“So, we had snuck out at night when everyone was abed, or so we thought, we had gotten to this tall wall and we were trying to climb over it – it had some partitions that were out so we were able to hold onto them – and Edwina was at the top, I was starting to climb the wall when Kate caught us. Instead of reprimanding us for sneaking out, she was mad that we did not bring her along” Lord Bridgerton and you chuckled “ Anyway, Edwina and I were on the other side and Kate had one foot on either side, she was bringing her other foot to the other side when she lost her footing and fell into a puddle of mud that was, coincidentally underneath her and that is not even the funny part–“ you started to laugh remembering her face “ because where we used to live was close to a farm, which had some pigs that got loose a lot. One was in the puddle and when she fell, she accidentally fell onto of the pig. You should have seen her. Her whole body was filled with mud, some even got in her mouth and when tried to get up, she lost her footing once again and fell right back down onto the pig” you shook your head once again, both of your laughter filled the room “That was the happiest day of my life”

When you finished talking, the room was filled with silence once again. But this time, it wasn’t that awkward.

”And how was your life before you lived with Kate’s family?” Anthony wondered

You looked up at the fireplace in front of you both, the flames shinning brightly on your eyes “It was normal, it was not amazing but it was not like I had a bad childhood either” you sighed “We were not exactly rich nor did we have a big mansion like you do, I was always expected to be a proper lady so I could marry someone rich and ‘pay back’ what they wasted on me, my mother and father were not really that loving and never really paid attention to anything I needed”

You turned your head to look at him only to find him already staring at you “Ever since I was young, I was all alone, my father spent all of his time working and working to earn money so when the time came, I could make my debut into society thus he was never around, and even if he was, he never spoke to me unless it was to reprimand me for something. My mother was the same, if not worse. Of course, she did not work, how could a lady work? All they are born for is to marry someone rich, give them their heirs and spend their life forming their daughters into proper ladies. Or so she used to say. At least that is what she molded me into.” You did not even know why you were telling him this, but your mouth didn’t seem to want to stop, wanting to let everything out.

“Point is – “ You said “They were never there for me when I needed, they were never loving towards me despite being their only daughter. But they did everything so I could have a better life than they did and I loved and respected them” Anthony stayed silent, letting me get everything off my chest

“I loved and respected them until they turned their backs on me, that is” You admitted “Ever since that awful night, they disowned me, blamed me for ruining their reputations, as if it was my fault, they were never caring but I would have thought that me being their daughter would have meant something, that they would support me through everything and, Surprise! Surprise! It was the exact opposite.” You scoffed incredulously, you sighed and grabbed the book you previously discarded, thinking the conversation was done when you finished talking.

”I had to grow quicker than all of my siblings” Anthony admitted smiling sadly “I was 18…. when my father… died…. We had gone that day to hunt just the two of us and as we were heading back here, we stopped to pick some of the flowers out front” he pointed out the window

“He was stung by a bee. He had turned out to be allergic and before we could call for the doctor, he was gone” he pursed his lips “Just like that, at 18 years old, I was made the viscount. I had to switch from being a brother to being a father figure to my siblings in a matter of moments. I was entering a new stage in my life as a teenager and I did not even get to fully experience it from having to grow up sooner than I thought” you sighed and hesitated before you put your hand on top of his as a comforting gesture, one he smiled gratefully at. “I spent all of my time in the next 10 years either working or, and I am ashamed to admit it, frolicking around with women.”

“My mother was destroyed when my father died, she was always in her room, never really ate anything, could not even check on little Hyacinth from how heartbroken she was. That was the moment when I decided that I could not, and would not marry for love and have someone suffer the same fate as my mother did, as I could not even bare the thought that I could ever surpass my father in anything, much less surpass him in age” He sighed before his eyes seemed to brighten up “Then I met Kate, and she changed my perception on love, Kate was my soul mate. As you probably know, I had initially proposed to Ms. Edwina, she was the diamond of the season and since I was not planning to marry for love, I thought she was the best option, that she was well suited to be my wife, she did fit all of my requirements. But little did I know that trying to pursue her would be hard as she had a sister who did not like me one bit. Kate and I fought all the time, we could not stand to be in the same place for even a minute. But everything changed when I invited them here, some things happened and everything between Kate and I changed, we fell in love. We went through some hardships but in the end, we overcame it all, we were happy, we were expecting a child, everything was fine until she died” he lowered his head, you looked at him sadly, tears started to sting on your eyes before you blinked them away, composing yourself

“Kate was the best of us” you murmured looking back at the fireplace “ I don’t know how we will live peacefully without her” Lord Bridgerton nodded agreeing with you before he stood up

“If you excuse me, I still have work to do” he left without another word, you looked at the door he just walked through, understanding filling you, the wound still wasn’t healed after all but you were comforted knowing that this was a step closer to getting along.

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