#Kate and Anthony would look at each other from across the room and they would leave me breathless

[romanticatheartt]

You are telling me... that Nicola and Luke didn't have chemistry test????? Everything makes so much sense now...

[plussizefantasia]

Could you do Benedict Bridgerton with wife reader? With fluff promt “I just really want to kiss you right now” Thanks!! :))

Benedict Bridgerton x wife!reader

Summary: Benedict gets inspired by his muse at any time of day.

Word Count : 0.9k

A/N: Thank you for the request, I've never written for Ben before. I hope I did your idea justice <3

It was not the first time you had woken up to your bed being empty and your husband’s side having long gone cold. You realized mere weeks into your marriage that the artist’s spirit was one that never truly rested. Benedict could be inspired at any moment and he was not one to wait until morning to work.

The light that streamed in from the window grazed your face and started to pull you gently from sleep’s embrace. You did not open your eyes yet, dearly wishing to have one more moment to cherish the night before having to greet the day. Your arms stretch above your head and you pull them out to your side, reaching for your love. You chuckle when you feel nothing and open your eyes to search for him.

Your eyes scan over the empty spot that used to hold your husband, at least you knew he had slept a little last night. The two of you had fallen asleep in each other’s arms and you had waited until his breathing had evened out to succumb to sleep.

Your husband was sweet, but you knew that he had no regard for himself. You wonder if this is a trait all artists share or if it is Bridgerton trait. You’d have to ask Kate the next time you saw her if Anthony also had a tendency to burn the midnight oil or if you were just lucky enough to get the restless brother.

You pull the sheets down to your waist and begin to sit up when a cough from the corner of the room catches your attention.

There, in your favorite reading chair sits your husband. Benedict is still in his night clothes, and the ties on his shirt have fallen open exposing more of his chest to your greedy eyes than was available before you went to bed. Clutched in his hand is a sketch pad and some charcoal. His hands are stained and the closer you look you also notice streaks of black across his forehead. He is staring deeply at you.

“Do not move my love, I am inspired.”

You laugh lightly, “When are you not inspired, dear husband?”

“How can I not be always inspired when my muse walks the same halls as I? When I wake up to beautiful sights like this I cannot help but feel the need to catch them on the page.” He nods towards you, still lounging in bed.

“You’re a flatterer and a flirt.”

“Ony for you my love.”

“How long am I to be trapped here?” You ask him.

“You vowed until death do us part.”

“I did,  and I fully intend to honor that vow, but do you truly wish for me to waste away in bed?” 

“You look far too beautiful to be wasting.”

You raised an eyebrow at the love of your life. 

“Just stay there for a few more moments my love, I’m almost finished.” He told you.

You tried to stay still for him, assuming the same position you woke up in, or as close to it as you could get. The room filled with the sounds of scratching on paper and the breaths that came from either of you. You jest with him, but you would gladly waste away in bed if it meant being able to watch Benedict for the rest of your time. The sight of your husband creating masterpieces was one that you loved dearly. Unfortunately Ben didn’t really like people watching him work, this was a rare treat indeed.

“Ben?” You called from your spot on the bed.

“Yes Love?” He did not look up from his paper.

“I do not think I can wait much longer.”

“And whyever not?” His lips spread into a grin and he looked up into your eyes.

“I just really want to kiss you right now.” You bit your bottom lip lightly and smiled at him.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” He stood and placed the paper and coal on the seat. He slowly made his way closer to where you lie in wait. “My lovely wife needs to be kissed does she?” He asked you, climbing onto the bed and hovering over you.

“She does.” You nodded. “I fear she might not survive much longer without one.”

“We cannot have that, who shall inspire me if she is not with me?” He drew his face closer to yours, rubbing his nose along yours.

“Ben please,” you whispered.

“How I love to hear you beg.” He smiled into your neck, where he began to pepper small kisses. 

‘I do not think that I was beg-” he silenced you with a kiss. It was slow and filled with love, your lips dancing with each other perfectly. 

You sat up without breaking the kiss, twisting yourself so that the two of you were intertwined. 

Mornings like these were a rare treat indeed.

[infiniteimaginings]

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.

[lookingfts]

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.”

[fitrahgolden]

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.

[thekatebridgerton]

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.

[sweetbuckybarnes]

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!"

[cvldbones]

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!

[alewritesfics]

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.

[bridgertonbabe]

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).

[zalrb]

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.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

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.” 

[stars-of-kyber]

@mrs-fairchild as a joke once asked for "I Won't say I'm in love" for my Bridgerton Music Prompts as a joke and I might have taken it seriously so, Bru, that's for you.

__________________________________________________

Kathani Sharma was not in love with Anthony Bridgerton, no matter what her stupid little sister seemed to think. Honestly, she barely liked the man on her best days. 

Sure, he was pretty nice to look at, with his carefully styled chestnut hair, and his warm brown eyes that seemed to stare right into her soul. Sometimes he’d be wearing a nice button-up that fit quite snuggly around his broad chest, the first couple of buttons opened, and he’d roll his sleeves up his elbows and it stirred something funny on Kate’s insides. And maybe she’d imagine those arms wrapped around her or pressing her against a wall once or twice or every other day. Never mind the fact that sometimes he’d look at her across the room, his eyes burning and she’d forget how to breathe for a moment. Or the way his voice sounded gruff right next to her ear when he’d make a silly quip, standing way too close, like they both always seemed to be around each other, sending shivers from the top of her head to the tip of her toe.  

And, of course, she couldn’t deny he wasn’t the jerk she imagined him to be when they first met. He was pretentious and stubborn, and so hot-headed, but he was also kind and generous, stopping whatever he was doing if someone he cared about needed him. He was ridiculously protective of his siblings, a bit overbearingly so sometimes, even if they annoyed him to no end. And he could be absolutely intimidating to protect the people close to him.

Once when they were out with their siblings, Kate watched as that cow Cressida Cowper was being a bitch to Penelope and before she could jump in the defence of the sweet redhead Anthony had been there. Anthony Bridgerton, who was very well aware of his sister’s best friend’s crush on his younger brother. Anthony Bridgerton, who referred to Pen as the honorary Bridgerton. Anthony Bridgerton, who right now looked intimidating and commanding, so different from what he usually did around Kate. 

“Pen! So glad you could make it today.” Cressida’s eyes turned predatory, watching as he gave Penelope a one-armed hug. Kate pretended not to notice how the way that woman was watching Anthony, her eyes roaming a bit appreciatively on the first few open buttons of his dress shirt, made her teeth clench and her hands ball into fists. She was obviously angry at how that tart was talking to Penelope and that was it. She didn’t care that the hag had been ogling Anthony at all. Obviously not. 

“Hello, Anthony.” Cressida bet her eyelashes, her voice shifting from the snide snare she was aiming at Pen just a moment before to a soft, melodic, velvety murmur, the sweetest smile adorning her painted lips. 

“Miss Cowper.” Anthony’s tone could cut glass, as cold as the winter in the Highlands, before he turned completely from the woman, shifting his body entirely towards Pen. “You don’t have a drink?” 

“I’ve been waiting for El.” Penelope was staring down at her shoes, the sudden attention on her making her cheeks slowly turn to the same colour as her hair. 

“They texted a few minutes ago, they’re on the tube.” His smile was soft, his hand carding through his hair, making it deliciously messy, not that Kate ever imagined what running her fingers through Anthony’s hair would feel like. “I’ll buy you something while we wait. What do you think? And you can tell me about that new internship you got. El hasn't stopped talking about it.” 

“I…” Penelope watched Anthony for a moment before her lips slowly started tugging upwards in a coy smile. “I’d like that.” 

Cressida’s face was so priceless as Anthony offered his arm to Pen, walking her to the bar, that Kate was tempted to pull out her phone and snap a photo. As they passed, Pen’s hand resting on Anthony’s arm as she mumbled about her new position in a newspaper, he caught her watching them, her mouth slightly agape. He always seemed to catch her watching him, always seemed to know exactly where she was in any room they both found themselves in. His lips curled into a smirk as their eyes met, and her heart absolutely did not stutter on her chest as he winked while he passed her. Not at all. It continued beating exactly the same rhythm as always, thank you very much.  

And now, they were friends… sort of. Not exactly, but quite. They would never outwardly call themselves that. But didn’t hate each other, not anymore, and they hung out, but never alone, always with one or more of their siblings around. And they’d talk and tease and bicker, always too close to be proper, always ending up in a ridiculous argument that left her hot and fuming into her drink. And that evening hadn’t been any different.

“That turned out well,” Edwina said, eyeing her sister amusedly, watching Kate fix herself another drink in Colin Bridgerton’s kitchen. 

“What?” Kate snapped irritably, turning around to stare at Edwina’s smug smile. 

“You know I can see right through you, don’t you?” She hummed, snatching a bottle of white wine to refill her empty red cup. 

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Eddie.” Kate lifted her nose up in the most dignified manner she was able to, turning back to her gin and tonic. 

“So you and Anthony were not breathing into each other's space, as usual?” 

“He vexes me.” Kate’s answer was prim, making Ewdina burst with laughter. 

“Vex? God Kate from what regency novel did you get that one from?” Edwina was dabbing her eyes, which were turning wet with how hard she was cackling. 

“Well, it’s true.” Kate just shrugs. “He’s so annoying, it’s like he’s trying his damn hardest to irritate me!”  

“You were playing beer pong. Together, as in a pair.” Edwina pointed out. It had been quite a scene, the stupid beer-pong competition Colin had cooked up. He had declared they should play in pairs, linking his arms with Daphne the moment the idea was out. Benedict had bolted to Eloise’s side, and Simon had sighed dejectedly, moving next to Edwina, muttering ‘I’m not pairing up with any of those maniacs. I’d rather play with a sensible person, thank you very much’ as his fiancée blew him a kiss. That had left Anthony and Kate, because Penelope announced she’d be acting as a referee, though Edwina was not exactly sure what kind of referring would she be attempting to do, since apparently, cheating was a normal fixture on game nights for the Bridgertons. After exchanging a tense look, they shrugged, their competitive sides speaking louder than their petty fighting. And Simon had been right, it was brutal. There was an insane energy that seemed to surround the Bridgertons as the game progressed and Kate’s wild competitiveness fit right in. Daphne had lost her temper on Benedict, throwing the entire filled cup across the table at her brother instead of the ping-pong ball. Eloise had kicked Colin in the shin with considerable force as he tried to cheat his way into pushing three cups closer together. And then there were Anthony and Kate, arguing between themselves although they were playing together.  “You two won the game, Kate!”

“And yet he managed to be his usual annoying self.” Kate huffed, puffing air out of her lips to try to blow her falling locks out of her hair a little unsuccessfully and distract herself from the image of Anthony standing next to her on their side of the table, his sleeves rolled up, their arms touching or him whispering instructions to her ear, his voice low and gruff. “Did you see that ridiculous move when he…?”

“Oh yes, it was so ridiculous that you ended up nose to nose, breathing the same air.” Edwina rolled her eyes a little exasperated at her older sister. By the final round, a game between Daph and Colin versus Kate and Anthony, both teams already at least a little inebriated, her sister and the eldest Bridgerton were already coming to blows over dangerous throws, failed attempts and even successful ones. When one of Anthony’s balls spun three times around the rim of the plastic cup before plopping into the liquid with a splash, Kate had turned to Anthony with fire in her eyes mumbling ‘this could have cost us the game!’ which quickly turned into an argument, that escalated to raised voices and before they even realised, they were standing chest to chest, just a hair of touching, their mouths mere centimetres from one another’s. “You could cut the sexual tension with a knife in that room.” 

“God, you can be so exaggerated sometimes, did you know that?” Kate was trying to deflect the subject.

“If Benedict hadn’t cleared his throat I’d give another three seconds until he kissed you. Or you kissed him, really.” Kate rolled her eyes, clearly in disagreement with her sister’s statement, busying herself with taking a sip of her drink to hide her blush behind her cup. “Why are you so dead set on denying your feelings for him, Katie?” 

“Because there are no feelings, Edwina.” Kate snapped, turning around so fast the drink sloshed in her cup, some of it drenching the front of her mint-green top. “The only feelings I have towards Anthony Bridgerton are exasperation and aggravation.” 

“So you’re telling me that every time you sigh when Anthony rolls up his sleeves, you’re sighing in exasperation?” Siblings did bring out the worst in people, she mused because the knowing smirk on her sister’s lips made Kate want to punch it away. “That those shivers you get when he’s whispering something to you are aggravation? It’s not like you blush every time he looks at you, is it?”

“You should really stop watching these romantic cliches, Eddie, they’re getting into your head.” Kate tutted

“Do you really think I’m that blind?” Edwina assessed her sister with a side look. “I’ve seen the way you look at him, you know.”

“So, I have eyes, he’s handsome. Big deal.” Kate rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t mean I have any feelings. I’ve met handsome men before and you remember how well it turned out.”

“Oh well, you’ve had some questionable taste in men before.” Edwina waved her hand as if it was inconsequential. “Anthony’s not like that, though. There’s obviously something between you.” 

Alright, so maybe Kate might have a tiny bitsy crush on Anthony and maybe, if he’d kissed her, she wouldn’t be upset about it, she might even kiss him back a little. Perhaps she’d slip her fingers through his ludicrously soft hair. Maybe she’d run her hand under his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his abdomen twitch under her nails and he’d run his hands up her leg… 

Good God, Kathani, get a grip! 

“You’re blushing!” Her sister’s gasp of exclamation startled her, almost making her drop her plastic cup in surprise. 

“Bloody hell, Edwina!”

“You were thinking of him!” She accused gleefully. “Look, your face’s all red!” 

“I absolutely wasn’t.” A shameful lie, but Edwina did not need to know. 

“Didi. Katie. Kate. Kathani. You’ve got it bad. Why can’t you just admit it?” 

“Honestly, Edwina, I sometimes wonder if I even like you.” She commented dryly. From the other, they could hear Anthony cry ‘For fuck’s sake, Benedict!’ followed by a loud groan that had Kate blushing to the root of her hair, her eyes focused on where the voice was coming from. Next to her, Edwina was cackling again. 

“Oh God, Didi, just shag the man and put us all out of our misery!” Edwina’s voice was spaced in between giggles. “Just go outside, kiss him and drag him into Colin’s spare room.” 

“Why don’t you kiss him, since you’re so intent on pointing out to me how handsome he is?” Kate asked bitterly, the most unbecoming pout on her lips in what she knew was the most ridiculous childish manner. 

“Maybe I will.”  Edwina’s eyes gleamed with misfit and her lips curled in a smirk. “He really does look very nice and gossip says he’s an incredible sh–”

“He’s too old for you.” Kate bit back, her tone snippy, Edwina’s face alight with delight in bothering Kate.

“Maybe I like them a little older.” Kate knew Edwina was just taking a mickey on her expenses, but some ugly possessive feeling settled in her chest at the idea of another woman’s hand curled around his arm, of him whispering dry, silly quips into someone’s ear, of some faceless chick making him smile the way he smiled at her. “Oh god, Didi! Your face–!” Edwina’s words were coming out between bouts of uncontrolled laughter. “You looked… ready to hit me…” 

“You are ridiculous, Bon.” Kate shook her head before turning and leaving her cackling sister in the kitchen and making her way out the door. 

And the moment she stepped out back into the living room, when Anthony's gaze automatically fell to her, as It always did, his eyes darkening a bit as he noticed the wet patch on her top, she felt a smug, burning desire coiling in the pit of her stomach wash away the dark jealous feeling with the fixated, entranced way he watched her. Alright, maybe Kate did have feelings for Anthony Bridgerton. If not love, something that might turn into that. She could admit that much. To herself, obviously. Not aloud. 

No, those words would still be kept safe inside her, at least for now. At that moment, as she smiled at him across the room, she had a feeling that it would be enough.

[redheadspark]

Hey HIl!

Can you do "complimenting the features you love most about you lover" and "getting lost in their eyes" with Benedict Bridgerton please?

Cant wait to see what you come up with!😘💕

A/N: AWW BABE! I love me some Benedict Bridgerton! Thanks for the request my dear!

Do Tell

Summary: Benedict could go on hours and hours about you if you let him.

Warnings: Just some lovely fluffiness :)

"Come now, Benedict! Let us hear all about your wonderful honeymoon!" "Colin, behave!"

"What? He's bene raving about it since the pair of them arrived back!" The other men were chuckling as Benedict just grinned as he read the newspaper. He was with his brothers, apart from his brother-in-law Simon who was on an errand with Daphne and their child for the day. Whereas his fiancé was with Kate and Eloise, along with his mother, for an afternoon tea session on the otherwise of the house. He's only been home for two days, being with his new wife on their honeymoon for two weeks out in the countryside after a small yet intimate wedding. It was hard to come back to reality when all he merely wanted to do was be with his wife, trapped under the bedsheets and bare with no ambition to dress until the afternoon, breathing in the deep trees the were touched with rain or the brightness of the sun.

Seeing her bare back illuminated with the sunlight and sweat.

"It was a lovely honeymoon, and since our younger brother is in the room" Benedict paused, gesturing to Gregory that was perched over the chess table, "And for the well being of my wife, I won't go into the details,"

"Not that we wish to hear such manners of our sister-in-law," Anthony reasoned as he moved to sit across from Gregory, moving a piece before the younger brother could rebuke him. Anthony, chuckled and then sat next to Benedict on the love seat, a smile on his face, "Did you at least enjoy yourself?"

"How could I not?" Benedict replied in a hum, "We both enjoyed the countryside far more than we wish to admit. She got lots of her reading done, as I did with my paintings,"

"But what about-" Colin was about to say.

"Hey! I'm right here!" Gregory scolded him mildly, huffing as he worked on his own solo game of chess. Colin grumbled as he looked back at you.

"As long as you are happy and you two enjoyed your time together, that's all that matters, brother," Anthony explained calmly to Benedict, whom was smiling softly, "Kate and I love being together, it helped and made our relationship more fulfilling,"

"And it did for us too," Benedict agreed, "I know we've known each other for years before I courted her, but it felt...new, after we were wed,"

Anthony was listening, purely interested while Colin seemed somewhat interest. Gregory had no care, which made sense since he was so young and never had to think of such things just yet. Benedict never minded telling his brothers what was on his heart, always surprising them with his softer romantic sides beyond his boyish nature.

"Her laugh reminds me of mothers laugh," Benedict explained, "Full of happiness and joy, like whatever I would tell her would be the best thing she's heard all day. Her smile alone makes me think of the early morning sun: bright and colorful with a hint of innocence. And her humor! I thought I was quite clever, she's far cleverer than I'll ever be. She'll keep me on my toes and never let a moment be dull between the pair of us,"

Benedict never thought he would be the kind of husband that would gush over his wife, yet he never thought he wouldn't be! He knew his wife long before they were engaged, let alone courting. She was mutual friend from similar social circles, Benedict seeing her eye some of the art pieces in a gallery at ball. He saw her tilt her head, a judgmental look on her brows as she then notice Benedict watching her. She pointing to the painting in front of her, a smile on her face.

"This one seems rather dull, don't you think?" She asked.

He was smitten with her ever since.

Her comments on art astounded Benedict, whenever they were on an outing together or Benedict painting one of his own pieces, she would always be honest with him in how she felt about art. He loved hearing it all, even the good and the bad, seeing the quirkiness in her when it came to the art of painting music.

"She challenges me to be better, Anthony," Benedict confessed to his older brother, whom was smiling at how Benedict was lighting up with the conversation, "I've never had that with someone else in my life. I love being with her, lifting her up, all of it,"

"Sounds like you found the perfect woman, Benedict," Anthony replied in a light hum, Benedict about to say something else when a chorus of giggles was heard right outside the parlor. All of the men perked up, seeing the Bridgerton ladies coming into their parlor with bright grins and laughter. Benedict's eyes, went to his wife, whom was on Kate's arm and her head thrown back with something Kate said to her. She looked radiant, the honeymoon glow on her face and in her hair as the sun was pouring into the room. Benedict felt lost in a trance for a moment, wishing for a solid second they were alone and he would paint her.

She would be a masterpiece on the canvas, yet she already was.

"Oh, did we interrupt?" Kate asked coyly as she moved away Benedict's wife to Anthony, whom greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, "Sounds like you boys were in a rousing conversation,"

"No, just Benedict wooing over his wife," Colin said sarcastically, but a grin was still evident. Benedict's ear reddened a bit, yet his spouse was grinning with pride as she cocked her head at him.

"Oh really?" She asked coyly, though the others were giggling. Benedict was paying attention to them, only to his wife. He would watch her for the rest of his life and let everything else melt away like the watercolors in his studio, she would remain.

"Do tell, dear husband,"

The End.

[desperate-daydream]

💍 Bridgerton

❀ Gregory Bridgerton x male reader ⚣︎

A/N: I watched Bridgerton season 2 again and Gregory became my new victim

tags/warnings: aged up characters, crossdressing (practicly to survive) (reader), probably OOC Gregory, happy end, they don't give a shit anymore & I love it

you've actually known each other long before you've "dated"

your parents had been close friends

but then your father suddenly dissapeared and your mother was the only person you had left

a while later she found out your secret: you like men

she assured you she still loved you but she had to make a decision with the society you were living in and she did

she and you retreated more and more from the rest of world

so nobody really remembered your family when you went back years later after your mother had died

you knew you had to marry to survive

but you also knew you had to marry a man to live

you found support in Madamme Delacroix, she helped disguising you as a woman and also came up with a plan containing "a busy male relative looking after you"

you eventually got closer to the Bridgerton family again - Gregory Bridgerton to be specific

he was funny, energetic and a little prankster - but you shouldn't underestimate his intelligence

after your fourth meeting he found out your secret - he payed a lot of attention to you

he went over to your residence to talk about it

you had a panik attack while he just smiled, reassuring you he wouldn't tell anyone

you spend more and more time together

what you didn't know: Gregory had a full on gay crisis

he had always tried to push it down but now he couldn't deny it anymore - he had feelings for you, a man but you also felt your feelings growing to more than just platonic

you always danced together at the balls and people started betting on when he would propose to you

and he did just that - he went over to your home and coffessed his feelings where his face turned a deeper shade of red than the cake you had eaten at the last gathering

after a long talk about your identity, sexuality and future you said yes

you went with him to tell his family - of course in costume

everyone was so happy for you

the time after that was content - you had wonderful moments together, stole little kisses that made your stomach flutter, jokes that made you laugh out loud

your wedding was beautiful - but the fact you had to disguise yourself made you sad

for your honemoon you went to a remote little residence from the Bridgertons

let me just say you didn't sleep much ;) - but also because you started a prank fight

his wholeharted laugh and the way he just grabbed you to dance around the room made you undescribingly happy

but that Gregory couldn't show his family what an amazing husband he had - he and his family went through thick and thin together so it was hard for him keeping such a secret from them

after another one of your deep talks you decided on telling them

when you came back you both were so nervous that it didn't take long and you gathered all your courage

Gregory did most of the talking while you more and more hid behind him

after he was finished there were a lot of diferent looks and complete silence

Lady Bridgerton was the first one to move - she stood up, quickly made her way across the room and hugged both of you

"oh, my boys. I'm so grateful that you told us and so proud of your courage."

you cried at that and felt a lot of pressure falling of you

Anthony finally said something after a long while: "well.. I will have to think about it. You know what you just told us."

you tensed up at that but Gregory just squeezed your hand and spoke

"I know that it would possibly dishonor us when it comes out. But you will not be able to get me away from my husband. You either accept it or I will have to disinherit myself as much as it would hurt me."

he retreated from the room Kate shortly behind him after she showed you a warm smile

the next day he went to you and tightly hugged Gregory

"You're my little brother. I swore to protect this family including you. So you have my support. Even if.. you want to be open about it."

then he turned to you: "If this family taught me one thing then that no percent of honor in this society is worth surpressing and hiding true love or who you really are."

the time went by and when the new season started you also started preparations - you all would go to a ball without hiding anything

the day came and you grew extremely nervous

but when your husband held out his arm to you - both of you dressed in fancy "gentleman" clothes - excietment was the only thing left

and as you walked around the hall telling the truth you just didn't give a shit anymore about this society

the people that were important to you accepted it and that was all that mattered

[fitrahgolden]

The Light of the Love That I Found: A Weary Memory Story

Kate was listening to music as she smudged charcoal across paper with her fingers in one of the studio spaces on campus. She paused to examine her progress when there was a knock on the door. Before she could answer, Anthony was already peeking into the room.

“Tell me, what's even the point of knocking if you're just going to open the door anyway?” Kate infused as much annoyance as she could into her tone, hoping to mask how ridiculously happy she was to see him.

It'd been six weeks. Since that party, it'd been six weeks of dates, meeting up around campus, sleepovers, and tests of willpower when they didn't spend the night together. Was Anthony her boyfriend? She wasn’t sure. After a handful of those aforementioned sleepovers, Kate had asked him if he was sleeping with anyone else. He wasn’t. Neither was she. A couple of weeks ago, Anthony’s brother Benedict came over from London for a visit. Kate stayed at her own place that weekend, but Anthony had invited her to hang out with him and Ben one of the nights he was there. Anthony had simply said, “This is Kate,” when he introduced her. There was no indication of what they were to each other, though his brother gave him a teasing look as he shook Kate’s hand, and it had made Kate wonder what, if anything, Anthony had told him about her.

“Formalities are very important to me, Kit.” Anthony said with mock sternness as he pulled a chair over so he could sit next to her. He kissed her temple. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Kate looked back at her drawing, adding superfluous little strokes and blending them out to nothing with the pad of her thumb.

“I like it.” Anthony said plainly as he draped an arm across the back of her chair.

Kate sighed pensively. “Thanks.”

“It’s a self-portrait, right?”

“No.” Kate twisted her mouth. “It’s my mother.”

Anthony’s “ah” was barely audible as he nodded.

Kate wiped her hands as thoroughly as she could before pulling out her phone. She navigated to a picture of Kaveri Sharma, and turned the screen towards Anthony.

“Holy shit. You look exactly like her,” he said with awe as he took the phone from her to get a closer look.

“Yeah. Everyone always said that. I wanted to believe them, but I couldn’t see it. I can now, though. It’s more obvious now that I’ve grown up, I guess.”

“Absolutely, you two would have been twins.” Anthony immediately grimaced. “Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry, Kit. I–”

Kate shook her head and patted his knee. “It’s fine, Anthony. You’re right.” She turned back towards the drawing. “We would have been.”

The following moments were silent save for Kate’s deep sigh. Then she felt Anthony take her hand in both of his and kiss it.

“Hey,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Are you studying tonight?”

“Always.”

“I have some writing I need to do. Can I come over?”

Kate gave him an incredulous sideways glance. Their private “study sessions” always devolved into something else entirely far too quickly.

“Really.” Anthony nudged her with his shoulder. “It’s due tomorrow. I don’t have time to submit to your feminine wiles.”

“Right,” she scoffed. “You’ll also need to keep your own wiles to yourself, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Well then,” Kate raised her chin haughtily, “Yes, you can come over.”

Anthony grinned as he leaned over and kissed her. Before she knew it, his hand was sliding up her back under her shirt, and she was being pulled into his lap.

“I’d consider these wiles, Anthony,” she murmured against his lips.

“We aren’t studying, yet.”

—

>>Hey, I don't think tonight is gonna work anymore.

Anthony with a “ta”: Why not? What happened?

>>Nothing. I just don’t feel well. I’m sorry.

Anthony with a “ta”: Don’t be sorry, Kit. What do you need? I’ll bring you something.

>>I don’t need anything, really.

Anthony with a “ta”: Well, what are your symptoms?

Anthony with a “ta”: Kit?

—

It had also been six weeks of this issue not coming up. But on her walk home that evening, Kate could feel it on her skin. She could see it in the clouds. She could even smell it in the air. She checked the radar and, sure enough, a storm was headed their way. Had Kate manifested it by drawing her mother that day? Of course she hadn’t. Intellectually, Kate knew she hadn’t. That didn’t stop her from wondering. That didn’t stop her from being annoyed with herself.

After she and Anthony parted ways, Kate had spent the rest of the afternoon looking forward to him coming over. But cancelling had almost been a reflex. It'd almost been against her will. But she didn't talk to anyone about this, and she certainly didn't know how to discuss it with her maybe/maybe not boyfriend of a mere month and a half.

She missed the big tub back home. It was the perfect place to hide. Edwina had found her there the last time, but the six year old thought nothing of it, just climbed in with Kate and they made a game out of it.

Not only was the bathroom in the shared house she rented tiny, it also had a window. There was no window in her bathroom at her father's house. So, she opted for wrapping herself up in a blanket and hunkering down in a foetal position in her tiny closet. Which is where she was when she heard a knock on her bedroom door.

At first, she said nothing. Maybe whichever one of her housemates it was would think she went to sleep early. Then the second knock was accompanied by a voice.

“Kit?”

Shit!

“You alright? Alice let me in.”

For a split second, Kate considered sticking to her “pretend to be asleep” plan, but she immediately abandoned the idea. She wanted to see him. So, still wrapped in her blanket, Kate padded to her door and unlocked it. Anthony’s hair and shoulders were damp and concern was etched all over his face.

“Hey.” One of his hands went to her cheek while the other was holding a tote bag. “How are you feeling?”

He kissed her forehead. Kate closed her eyes and let the warm feeling wash over her. Just then, the wind picked up and raindrops started hitting her window hard. The sound brought a memory to the front of her mind. Sheets of water rolling down the windshield. Her mother cursing about not being able to see anything.

“...Hey.”

Anthony was tugging on Kate's hand. Her eyes snapped to his.

“Sorry.” Kate shook her head as she closed and locked her door.

“Don't be sorry. I was just saying I wasn't sure what you needed, so I kind of bought out the entire chemist,” he said, sifting through the contents of the bag.

“Oh, you really shouldn't have…”

“And there's soup in your fridge if you want that.”

Kate shook her head. “Anthony.”

“I looked up a chai recipe, if you trust me to–”

“Anthony, stop.”

Kate wrapped the blanket tighter around herself as Anthony blinked at her, dropping the bag on her bed.

“I'm… Fuck, I'm sorry.” He ran his hand over his face. “You want to be alone, don't you?”

She took a step towards him. “No, actually–” A flash of lightning startled her, and Anthony pulled her the rest of the way to him.

“No?” he asked into her hair.

“No, it's just that…none of those things are going to help.”

Thunder rumbled through the house, and Kate felt herself vibrating in Anthony's arms along with it.

“Kit, please tell me what's wrong.” His voice was a whisper against her ear.

Kate took several deep breaths.

“Can we sit on the floor? I… It helps when I'm low to the ground.”

Without hesitation, Anthony sat on the floor, leaning against the side of her bed. He pulled her down to straddle his lap and wrapped his arms around her, blanket and all.

“Thank you,” she sighed.

“Of course, baby.”

Baby. He'd never called her that outside the context of sex before.

Another lightning flash had her flinching against him.

Is that lightning or headlights? “Amma!”

“Kit, is it the storm?”

Kate nodded into his neck.

“Your heart is beating so fast. Are you afraid of them?” There was no judgement in his tone. Just curiosity and worry.

“Yeah, but…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “It's more than that.”

“What do you mean?”

He stroked her hair. This was as strange as it was welcomed. No one had ever been with her for this, taking care of her. How could they? She’d never let anyone know when it was happening. She didn't want to upset her father by talking about that day. 

“It was a car accident,” was all she could get herself to say at first. After several seconds, she heard a small gasp come from Anthony.

“Your mother.”

Kate cleared her throat, which did nothing for the lump that was forming. “We… The rain got so heavy so fast. We couldn't see anything. We were swerving. Amma couldn't…”

“‘We?’ You were there?”

Kate nodded.

“Fuck.”

 “We both needed surgery. My knees were fucked up, and she…”

Anthony's had been absentmindedly tracing over one of Kate's knees, something he'd done a few times before falling asleep over the past several weeks. He stilled his hand.

“Is… That's how…?”

“That's where the scars are from, yeah. Please don't stop.”

“OK.” He resumed his tender ministrations.

“I was under when it happened. She…” Another useless cough. “She was already gone when I woke up.”

They didn't speak for a while. Anthony rocked her through every lightning flash and roll of thunder. It didn't seem like the weather was going to let up any time soon.

“Are you able to sleep when this happens?”

Kate shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Do you want to try?”

“Yeah.”

She slid off Anthony’s lap. He stood and took off most of his clothes. Once he was down to his underwear, he held out his hand to her, as she was still sitting on the floor.

“Shall we?”

Kate took his hand, but didn't pull herself up.

“Can we stay down here?” Her eyes flitted to the window. “It's better down here.”

Anthony rubbed Kate's knuckles with his thumb as he nodded. “OK.”

She watched as he grabbed a pillow and duvet from her bed and laid them out beside her. She wasn't expecting him to acquiesce so easily.

“You'll be alright lying on the floor?”

“I'll be fine. Come here.”

She settled under the duvet with him, her head on his chest. 

“What about the writing you had to do?” she whispered.

“I did some of it before I came over. I’ll do the rest in the morning.”

“Anthony…”

“It’s fine, Kit. This is where I need to be right now. My girlfriend is sleeping on the floor, so we're sleeping on the floor.”

Oh.

“I'm your girlfriend?��

Anthony raised his head slightly. “Aren't you?”

“I wasn't sure,” Kate laughed.

“Well, you absolutely are. I mean, only if you want to be, of course.”

She looked up at him then, caressing his cheek as the uncertainty evaporated from his eyes. “I want to be.”

19 YEARS LATER

The howling winds and harsh sounds of rain pelting the house made it seem as if they were getting it from all sides. Kate took a couple of deep breaths, settled lower into the tub, and focused on her three month old.

Mary Violet Sharma-Bridgerton didn't seem bothered by the weather at all. In fact, she seemed quite content, noisily feeding from her mother, sighing in between the grunts and gulps. The infant had a tendency to fall asleep before she got her fill, so Kate had a night light next to them and was playing with Mary's bare feet to keep her awake.

“I can’t believe I didn’t wake up.”

Kate looked up towards the direction of the hoarse whisper. Anthony stood in the bathroom doorway, rubbing his eyes.

“I can,” Kate countered. “Getting enough sleep is basically impossible right now.”

Anthony mumbled something unintelligible as he made his way over to the tub and kneeled beside it. “Are you OK?”

“Mostly.”

“Did you dream?” Kate shook her head. Anthony kissed her cheek. “Good.”

“This one’s helping,” she decided, looking down at Mary.

Anthony petted their daughter's dark hair. “May I join you two?”

“Please.”

Kate leaned forward a bit, allowing Anthony to fit in behind her. He rearranged the pillows and blanket before reclining.He started to massage Kate's neck, making her shiver and moan. She couldn't find it in her to care how she sounded.

“Fuck, Kit. Don't make noises like that.”

“I’ll make whichever noises I want. Your self control isn't my problem.”

“I think I’ve been doing a rather stellar job of controlling myself, thank you very much.”

Kate softened, stroking Anthony’s arm with her free hand. “I know. You’ve been very patient.”

She'd been medically cleared for sex weeks ago, but Kate still wasn't ready, in part because she and her therapist both believed forcing intimacy too soon was one of the contributing factors to the PPD that occurred after Kaveri's birth.

She craned her head around and nuzzled his jaw. “Thank you.”

Anthony shrugged as he kissed her hair. “Whatever you need, Kit.”

Once Mary was sufficiently milk drunk, Kate lifted her upright against her shoulder so she could attempt to coax a burp out of their baby by rubbing her back. Kate smiled when she felt Anthony lean forward and start peppering Mary's face with kisses. It didn't take long for a robust belch to bellow from her tiny body.

“Well done, you little star,” Anthony cooed.

“Anthony?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't you actually have to make an appearance at the office in the morning?”

“It's fine,” he said dismissively.

“We're really alright if you want to–”

“I don't want to. This is where I need to be right now. My wife and child are lying in the tub, so we're lying in the tub.”