#Sir Henry Granville
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My mum fully thought Benedict had a gay storyline in season 1 and honestly I agree even if he didn’t technically kiss the dude
#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#sir Henry granville#he did sleep with the man’s wife but is that comp het?
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Introducing my Bridgerton OC I suppose (ngl name may change - esp last name still figuring it out) @loveeari
Name: Aethelred/Aether (Ethel) Beckworth
[read more below the cut]
Age: somewhere between 18-21 (around the same age as Eloise Bridgerton - however depending on what point in the story that they enter will change things)
Gender: Nonbinary (doesn't technically label themselves within the story)
Pronouns: He/She (by those within story - conversations outside of story are often used with they/them pronouns)
Description: Aether has short-ish hair that curls, often considered a touch too 'loose' for the style of the age, making very little effort to change it throughout their stay in the ton. They are of mixed heritage and have a skin tone similar to that of the Duke of Hastings and are constantly dressed impeccably. Whilst outside amoungst society they often times prefer to wear the masculine clothing of the era, however when in private feel more free to experiment with both masculine and feminine looks (growing their hair but wearing men's clothes, keeping their hair short and wearing dresses,, binding whilst in a dress, etc etc)
Backstory:
Ethel was the only child of wealthy Viscount who wished for heirs - however after learning that she was a 'girl' and that Ethel's mother could not produce anymore children the Viscount decided he wanted very little to do with his wife nor child and sent them both to live on a small(er) property by themselves.
Thanks to the home and property being quite small there was not a lot of staff and the ones that were there became rather fond of Ethel's mother rather quickly and in turn the child as well and didn't really comment too much on how they were raised.
Due to this Ethel's mother raised them with a lot of freedom - she of course taught them about all the 'ladylike' things they'd later need to know but also allowed Ethel to occasionally dress in boy/masculine clothing, help out with work if they wanted to and occasionally cut off their hair. Additionally Ethel was taught a lot of things - along with the more stereotypical 'feminine things' that the women of high society would need to know (sewing, mending, caring for children, behaving around other women and men, etc etc) Ethel's mother also wanted to give them the best chance at life and was alright with teaching them other things that were more 'taboo' that men might know (such as how children are created for one) and was fond of feminist literature and constantly was happy to teach Ethel these sorts of things.
Ethel's father died quite a bit before their mother did - however even then the child and mother didn't really live in the main estate for most of the time.
However as Ethel was entering adulthood their mother became gravely ill - soon they would have to call a doctor. Before this however Ethel's mother warned them that there was very little chance they'd be able to continue living as themselves if society found out how they lived here and so before the doctor arrived Ethel made a choice and decided to abandon a lot of their more 'effeminate' items and instead embraced the more androgynous or masculine items that they owned, styling their hair shorter and by the time the doctor arrived they were calling themselves 'Aethelred' and were considered the son of Viscount and Viscountess Beckworth. Thanks to their father's shame around the child not many knew of his child other then their father's sister - their aunt who was never told of the gender of the child and was able to believe that this was a boy too.
Upon their aunt coming to get them she decided that they still needed to attempt to find a wife during the next season - Aethelred eventually decided, however planned to simply not become betrothed to anyone throughout the season and simply live the rest of their life as a bachelor and travel.
However after getting to Mayfair they eventually caught the attention of one Eloise Bridgerton and after a while of back and forth the two of them decided to format a plan that would aide both of their interests through a 'marriage' (more like lavender marriage lmao)
#disaster's posts#Bridgerton#bridgerton oc#original character#oc x canon#aethelred doesn't actually date anyone within the universe I feel the need to say this#Eloise and Aethelred are in a marriagee of convinience#they don't fall in love btw#despite being around Eloise more the first Bridgerton they ever encounter is Benedict#most certainly at one of Sir Henry Granville's parties#making the later appearance as the person courting Eloise one hell of a meeting#dont care if it's cringe i only indulge in oc x canon every once in a while I should be allowed to enjoy it
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Bridgerton shade of blue
Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Nine - Late night scandals
♡♡♡
"What do you think Bridgerton?"
Benedict turns around to find the artist he had accidentally offended at the gallery the other night.
"This one more to your liking?"
"Mr. Granville--" Benedict raises from his chair to approach the man.
"Perhaps they should take it over to Somerset House so it can be skyed right next to mine."
"I believe I owe you an apology, sir." Benedict says, feeling rather embarrassed.
"Unnecessary. I actually quite enjoy the eloquent stings of your critique. So?" He gestures back to the painting on the wall.
"A touch morose for my tastes," Benedict says.
Henry points to the next one.
"A tragedy. The hound deserved better," Benedict comments.
Granville laughs. "Where is yours?"
"My..."
"Your work," Granville clarifies. "Are you tell me you're not an artist yourself?"
"Well, I-- I suppose sometimes I like to... Well, I mean, I almost--"
"I believe 'yes' and 'thank you' are the words you seek. But either way, you should come by my studio." Mr Granville holds out a small card to Benedict, who accepts it. "The pieces I do for myself are there, and I think you will find my real work far less, um... Oh, how did you put it? 'Cold and lacking inner life?'"
Benedict scrunched up his face as he nodded, still burning with embarrassment. "I shall never live that down, shall I?"
Mr Granville leaves.
Benedict returns to his table where he had been absentmindedly doodling. Eyes. He was sketching out a pair of eyes. Pretty ones. From memory.
He sighs and closes the sketchbook.
♡♡♡
As you sit in the drawing room of the Bridgerton house, as invited by Violet, you discover that she had no idea about the boxing match, or that Daphne had been there.
You keep your eyes focused on the latest Whistledown paper, though you had stopped reading it.
Daphne was playing the piano while her mother interrogated her.
"A boxing match is no place for any young lady." Violet sighs.
"Is it a place for a prince? Was he at today's match, sister?" Hyacinth asks.
"He certainly was."
"It is a loathsome and barbarous form of entertainment," Violet was very displeased.
That was when Daphne took the opportunity to mention you had gone as well, which had Violet looking at you.
"You too?"
You glare softly at Daphne, who gives you a smug little look. Crafty one, she is.
"Anthony invited me," you admit.
Violet looked terribly ill all of a sudden. You were sure she would being this up with her eldest son at some point.
"What about the duke?" Hyacinth asks.
"What about the duke?" Both Violet and Daphne ask at the same time. You eye Daphne curiously from your seat.
"Was he also present?" Hyacinth asked, less enthusiastic now.
"I do not know," Daphne says. "If the duke was there, I did not see him."
Hyacinth leaves the piano to go see what Eloise is up to. She had been scribbling away in her book since you arrived.
You put the Whistledown column down and rose from your seat to seek entertainment near the window. Watching the street was surely more entertainment than listening in on that conversation.
Anthony enters the room and greets both his mother and his sister. You turn and he greets you too.
"Did you truly take your sister to a boxing match?" Violet hounds him.
"Your admonishment will have to wait. I have news," he cuts her lecture short. "Prince Friedrich has asked for my permission to propose." He looks at Daphne.
She stops playing. "So soon?"
"Well, what did you tell him?" Violet asks.
"That I know better than to answer for my sister. I have no objections to the man. People speak well of him. Whatever you decide, Daph, you shall have my support."
You look at Daphne quietly.
"I... uh... I..." She doesn't know what to say.
"You need not decide now," Violet tells her. "You certainly have no known him long."
"Let me know when you have an answer, and I shall convey it." Anthony says to his sister.
"Indeed." Daphne looks at him.
Anthony leaves as quickly as he came in. It was clear Daphne needed time to think.
♡♡♡
When Daphne had pleaded with you to attend the next ball with her, you couldn't say no. There was a sadness to her gaze, and you wondered from where it had risen.
Something had happened between her and the duke, and she had been off kilter ever since.
The ball, like all had been so far, was wonderful. The theme was a little more out there this time, but everyone was behaving quite perfectly.
You were standing with Daphne as she scanned the crowd. Exactly who she was looking for, you weren't quite certain. You would suggest the prince on the account that the duke was apparently leaving London tonight.
The prince could be seen across the room. He was in conversation with someone. You glance toward Daphne, but your gaze shifts as Cressida Cowper comes over. You give Daphne a gentle nudge.
"Daphne." Cressida chuckles. "You look beautiful, as always."
"Thank you, Cressida," Daphne says politely.
"You could have chosen anyone," Cressida says. "You have gentlemen lined up to pay you tribute. Yet you did not hesitate to steal my chance for happiness away, did you? I knew the marriage market would make rivals of us, but I never thought youcapable of being my enemy."
"The man made his choice, Cressida. What did you expect me to do?" Daphne asks.
Daphne walks off in the direction of the prince. You look at Cressida and then walk off in the other direction.
There is nothing you could ever say to her.
You begin to walk alongside the dance floor, watching the couples dance. A hand comes into view, and you turn to see a friendly looking young man smiling at you.
"May I have this dance?"
You take a moment to gather yourself. You had hoped one of the Bridgerton boys would be here to dance with you, but you supposed you couldn't rely on them every time.
"You may."
You go with him to dance.
It seemed Benedict wasn't here.
♡♡♡
Benedict was, in fact, making his way to the studio of Mr. Granville. He was intrigued by the artist.
He finds the address and knocks on the door. Henry Granville answers.
"Mr. Bridgerton."
Benedict stands there a little awkwardly.
"Come in, come in."
Granville lets him in. Benedict enters and follows him. He is led further inside and finds himself in a large room. A circle of easels presented around two nude models.
"I do not know what I was expecting, but it surely was not this." Benedict says.
"Oh, simply a gathering of like-minded souls." Henry tells him. "Here, let me show you what I've been working on."
Benedict is led further inside the studio. He passes a couple of painters discussing war so causally.
"What do you think?" Henry asks.
Benedict walks over and takes a look at the canvas.
"Hmm. It's a far cry from Somerset House, I must say."
"I shall take that a compliment."
They both chuckle.
"And I must say, I'm truly jealous. Is this your life?" Benedict asks.
"There are advantages to being the second-born." Henry tells him. "Heirs have the responsibility. Second sons have the fun."
They both chuckle again.
"So... why not go have some fun?" Henry gestures to the models. He's giving Benedict the chance to epress himself through art.
Benedict picks an easel and sits down.
♡♡♡
As you dance once again tonight, you spot Anthony standing off to the side. He's staring at the opera singer.
You hard heard whispers about him being infatuated with an opera singer, but had no idea if there lay any truth to them.
You continue dancing with your partner.
Benedict was still a no-show tonight, which you found to be rather disappointing. You had been looking forward to another evening of his little quips and teasing.
When the dance ends, you curtsy to your partner and head in the direction of Anthony and Violet. Lady Bridgerton had tries to introduce her son to a rather pretty young lady, but he showed no interest.
"Shall we dance, Lord Bridgerton?" You ask, looking at Anthony.
He turns and looks at you, for half a second, thinking you were another lady his mother was intent on pushing on him.
"Yes, let's." He offers his arm, and you take it. Violet watches you both go. Even if he chose you, she would be pleased, but she knows her son will not take you as his wife. You're his friend who has come to rescue him from her for a while.
Violet downs a third glass of champagne.
"She is persistent," you say.
"Hm?"
"Your mother."
Anthony chuckles softly. "Yes. Quite."
"The opera singer..."
He looks at you.
"Nevermind. Its not my business."
Anthony's expression softens. "I was - am - found of her."
"Yes. I assumed as much."
Anthony sighs. "It's complicated.
You nod and say no more on the matter. Anthony spins you around elegantly.
"Is Benedict not here tonight?" You ask, twirling with him.
"Benedict? No." He gazes at you. "Why do you ask?"
"I just noticed his absence."
"Missing your dance partner?" He teases.
You chuckle. "Am I that obvious?"
He winks at you, and you shake your head with a smile. "I'm fond of you boys. I can't help it when I notice one of you is missing."
Anthony grins. "How lucky we are to have gained such a special friend such as you."
As Anthony gives you another turn around the floor, you spot Colin speaking with Penelope. You smile softly at the sight and then turn your attention back to the eldest brother.
At least you'll have one Bridgerton on your dance card tonight.
As the next dance begins, Anthony keeps your company longer. You're aware this may catch attention from others, especially Lady Whistledown should she be here, but none the less, you dance with him twice.
You soon see that Colin has left Penelope on the sidelines to dance with Miss Thompson, and you also find the prince talking to Daphne amidst their dance.
The dance ends, and you manage to catch sight of Daphne fleeing the ballroom.
Anthony bows, and you curtsy.
"Until next time." He nods his head at you. You smile and nod, taking your leave. You worry about Daphne and intend to go check on her, but you're stopped by another gentleman.
You sigh and realise you'll have to dance with him before you can flee again.
The dance feels like it drags on, and on, and on. You smile, you listen to your partner talk, but your mind is focused on Daphne. She did not look well when she fled.
When the dance ends, you spot Anthony leaving the ballroom. You waste no more time and follow him.
He heads outside. You follow.
"Anthony?"
He turns and looks at you. "Go back inside."
"What's the matter? What's happening?"
"Did you see him?" Anthony asks urgently.
"Who?"
"The duke."
"He is here?"
"He was, and now I can't find Daphne." You realise he's concerned about his sister.
You hear something further in the garden, and Anthony hurries off. You follow him, close on his heels.
What you find is not what you ever expected to see.
Simon and Daphne were not just kissing. His hands were all over her. Her dress had been pulled down. You cover your mouth, though you can not hide the gasp that escapes you.
Anthony runs at Simon.
"Bastard!"
Simon receives a strong punch to the face. He falls to the ground, and Anthony takes another swing. He punches him a third time and then stands beside his sister. You hurry to her other side and checks her over.
"Daphne..."
She is speechless. She has no words for you. They have been caught in a compromising position.
"You will marry her," Anthony declares.
"What?" Daphne looks at her brother.
"Immediately. We can only hope no one saw you take such liberties, and my sister is saved further mortification. You will marry her!"
Anthony is angry.
"Brother!"
"I cannot marry her," Simon says.
"You have defiled her innocence, and now you refuse her hand? I knew you were a rake, Hastings, I never thought you a villain."
"I cannot marry her," Simon states more firmly.
Daphne looks hurt.
"Then you leave me no choice. I must demand satisfaction."
"A duel? Anthony, you cannot--" Daphne begins.
"He dishonours you, sister." Anthony looks at her. "He dishonours you and me and the very Bridgerton name. I have misjudged you, indeed. You have duped us both, but I shall not see my sister pay for my own misdeeds. We will settle this as gentlemen."
"I understand," Simon agrees. "I shall see you at dawn."
"I do not understand," Daphne says softly. "You would rather die than marry me?"
You look at Simon quietly.
"I am truly sorry."
"We need to go, Daph. Before anyone should see us." Anthony says softly.
You reach out for her arm gently and pull her away, Anthony follows you both.
Daphne takes her brother's arm after he begs of you not to say a word about anything. You swear by it, looking him in the eye. Anthony thanks you.
You drift off from them as you enter the ballroom once again.
Anthony approaches Colin and tells him he is taking her home. He asks Colin to take care of their mother. You decide to step in and help. Anthony looks grateful.
Anthony and Daphne leave.
Colin looks at you, but you just smile softly at him and ask him to help you with Violet. He doesn't say anything about Daphne or Anthony.
Neither do you.
♡♡♡
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She’s Gonna Save Me (Bridgerton: Benedict Bridgerton)

this is my first ever bridgerton fic! i’ve had such a writer’s block and post grad has been so difficult but listening to music and reading other writers’ works has me feeling inspired! so enjoy my first story in months and first of the new year :)
pairing: female reader (she/her) x Benedict Bridgerton reader x Colin Bridgerton (platonic!)
summary: Benedict contemplates a life pursuing art and living outside the expectations of his family and society. Does he find a wife and settle down or live freely? What happens when he meets someone who can offer him the best of both worlds?
notes/warnings: mention of nudity, alcohol consumption, activities that can be witnessed at Sir Granville’s scandalous studio saoirees…
word count: 2.4k
As the second eldest Bridgerton boy, Benedict never found himself extremely pressured by the standards and expectations of society. Those responsibilities were entrusted upon his brother, Anthony, the Viscount.
Benedict reserved himself to a more romantic life, preoccupied by his love and interest for art.
Attending every event of the season was merely a ploy to keep his mother happy and distracted from the fact that he had no true intention of courting any ladies.
He would drink, laugh, and dance the season away without ever calling on anyone.
Benedict believed that this season wouldn’t be any different.
******
When you first agreed to join your family friends across the Atlantic in London, you didn’t expect that you would be taking part in the ton’s social season.
As the youngest daughter, your brothers married with children and sisters off tending to their new husbands, your father didn’t feel the need to arrange a marriage for social or monetary gain.
Your family was well off in the states, your parents often described as ‘free spirits.’ They had always impressed upon you the importance of appreciating the beauty around you and romanticizing life.
With your mother’s passing, you decided to stay at home with your father, choosing to enjoy a quiet life in the country studying English literature.
Staying with Sir Henry Granville was beyond exciting and allowed you to interact and mingle with the more eclectic members of British society.
You had lasted all but a week before you were called upon by a Miss Lady Danbury.
She had stressed the importance of participating in the social season and the impending judgment of the ton and Queen if you did not participate.
While you never cared much for the opinion of others, you didn’t fancy the idea of being ogled every time you ventured into town.
******
“I heard she was rejected by every suitor.”
“She’s so ugly and unpleasant, a dowry wouldn’t even be worth it.”
“Apparently she’s slightly deformed.”
You couldn’t begin to believe the rumors circulating about you, the American.
You swore that the descriptions were ripped out of a storybook, describing some gremlin crawling from the depths of the earth.
Men and women alike had no problem spreading stories about the young lady joining them for the season.
Worst of all, none of them had even seen you yet. The modiste had made personal house calls, as requested by Lady Danbury.
Now you stood, in front of the carriage, at the first ball of the season, your debut.
You followed behind Sir Henry and Mary Granville, head held high and eyes straight forward as you waded through the ballroom towards Lady Danbury and the Queen.
You heard the whispers and felt the stares as you stood before the queen.
With one leg behind the other and your arms laid at your side, you gently bent your knee and curtsied before her.
She gave you a once over before bowing her head back, a silent approval.
Moving out of the way, you stood at the edge of the dance floor as Lady Danbury approached.
“Miss y/l/n, I do hope you don’t mind that I have taken the liberty of securing you a few gentlemen to fill out your dance card.”
“I expect nothing less from you, Lady Danbury” you smiled back, a teasing tone in your voice.
Your sarcasm and apprehension towards the season had not gone unnoticed by Lady Danbury.
She quite admired your wit and sharp mind, and more than anything, enjoyed the challenge.
******
You were now on your 4th dance of the night; your feet were hurting, and you wanted nothing more than to be curled up with a book.
Fortunately, your current dance partner was not completely awful and was actually quite charming.
Colin Bridgerton.
You had met him once before, in passing, when Lady Danbury had brought you to meet his mother, Violet, and sister, Daphne.
Apparently, Daphne had been named the Diamond of the season in her first season out on society and married a Duke.
His younger sister, Eloise, was preparing for her first season as well.
However, through your brief encounter with Eloise she did not seem as happy with the matter as her sister and mother were.
You had a feeling she would be a good person to befriend.
“Tell me about yourself Miss y/l/n” Colin inquired.
“Y/N,” you quickly corrected.
“Just Y/N is fine,” you smiled slightly.
“Well Y/N, how are you finding London and the beginning of the season?”
“London, well its quite beautiful. There is so much art, and history, and the architecture is amazing. Truly, I wouldn’t mind getting lost here. And well…this—” you paused, glancing around the ball at all the young women around you.
“May I be frank?” you asked, Colin’s eyebrows raising in surprise.
“Of course, Miss Y/N”
“I slightly detest all of this, my feet hurt, and I’ve been dancing for quite too long. Why would I want to marry someone I’ve met one time?”
Colin was slightly taken aback before grinning wildly.
“You remind me of my sister Eloise,” he stated.
“I’ll take that as a compliment, I quite liked her,” you grinned back.
As the dance ended you curtsied before Colin as he bowed before you.
“I hope you find the person you’re looking for Y/N, but I have a feeling you don’t need all of this to do so.”
You smiled widely and slightly nodded before following him off the dance floor.
“I’ll grab us a drink,” he said before walking away. Your eyes followed his back for a few seconds before scanning the room.
They quickly landed on two men whispering in the corner.
The slightly shorter one had massive sideburns and a quizzical look that seemed as if it must be permanently etched onto his face. The other man had a certain air about him.
Even from across the room his light-colored eyes had a shine in them.
Colin returned; you thanked him before looking to the corner again. This time the slightly taller one had caught your gaze and lifted his eyes to meet yours. You felt your face flush and quickly turned your head.
“Colin?”
“Yes?”
“Who are those two men in the corner?”
Colin looked up to see his brothers in the corner looking at him inquisitively.
“Oh, those two? You don’t want to be near the likes of them. Poorly mannered and when they were younger, they would wet the bed for years well beyond what was normal.”
You were following along for a while until that last part.
You gave Colin a quick look to see if he was being serious.
His mouth remained flat and tight-lipped for a few mere seconds before letting through a boisterous laugh.
“My apologies Y/N, those are my brothers.”
Your eyes widened at the confession.
“Your brothers?”
“Yes, lets introduce you,” he stated, beginning to pull you across the ballroom.
“Colin, No I—"
“Brothers, this is Miss y/l/n, Anthony, Benedict,” he pointed out.
You curtsied before both of them before speaking up.
“I told you, just Y/N is fine Colin.”
You weren’t sure what his brothers would say about your slight improperness. It was clear that the Bridgerton’s were a well-respected family in the ton.
You glanced at the eldest brother who you learned was named Anthony who gave you a curt nod before excusing himself to sneak off from an inquiring Lady Danbury.
You smiled at him before turning your gaze to the second eldest Bridgerton.
“Y/N here was telling me about her studies in the states. She is well-read and well-traveled.”
You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing Colin slightly.
“You flatter me, Colin. Unfortunately, I am not perfect. For example, I am about done with all of this and was just about to call a carriage.”
“Oh, but you must stay for one more dance Y/N. Poor Benedict here has not waltzed once.”
Benedict tried to sneakily hit his brother for his clear meddling.
“While that may be true, I do not need my younger brother imposing on such a lovely lady.” Benedict states.
“Nonsense, everyone must waltz at least once,” you laughed, pulling Benedict towards the center of the room.
His eyes widened at your forwardness as he shot Colin a disapproving brotherly look, to which Colin gave him a grin and thumbs up.
As the music began you moved around the room with Benedict.
“So, Mr. Bridgerton, tell me what exactly it is you do.”
“Just Benedict is fine,” he stated, mirroring your words from earlier.
“Besides, aren’t I the one who should be questioning you about your skills?”
“That’s awfully backwards thinking, I hope you don’t get stuck that way” you replied sarcastically before being spun around.
When you returned facing Benedict, a knowing grin was stuck on his face. You were witty. He liked witty.
“I suppose that is fair. I’m an artist, well…I’m trying to be an artist. It’s a little complicated.”
You nodded understandingly, while the arts were enjoyed by many, it wasn’t exactly a noble pursuit, especially for you as a woman.
“You should come by Sir Granville’s studio, it’s quite…”
You couldn’t think of a proper word to describe the soirees Granville hosted. It was taboo and scandalous to most respectable members of society. However, if Benedict was an artist as he was claiming, he should fit right in.
“…inspiring,” you finished.
Benedict gave you an interesting look.
Little did you know, he had been to Granville’s studio, several times.
He hadn’t been in a while since his family had just returned from Aubrey Hall and the preparation for Eloise’s season had been quite hectic for his mother.
But you, picturing you at Granville’s studio was not something Benedict had imagined.
Women who were married or of low social standing was something else, but you, a young lady in her first official season stalking down the halls in such a disreputable manner. It didn’t fit the picture of the beautiful woman before him.
Benedict was quickly learning not to try and categorize you into one box.
“What do you know of Granville’s studio?” he asked seriously.
“Well, for one, I’m staying there. Two, I feel more comfortable among that community than here, if you understand what I mean…” you trail off.
Benedict gives you a small smile of understanding.
As the song ends Benedict lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently before sightly lowering it back down, fingers brushing softly as he pulls away.
“Until next time Y/N”
“I look forward to it Benedict.”
******
Two months had passed since Lady Danbury’s first ball of the season. In that time you had befriended Eloise and Colin Bridgerton, often sitting in the parlor room of their home during the daytime, chatting the day away.
As such, you had also grown closer to Penelope Featherington who also came over often. You always considered yourself to be quite perceptive, so it was evidently clear that Penelope was fond of Colin. You thought about mentioning something, but it didn’t seem like your place.
Throughout your time at the Bridgerton’s household you had seen Benedict a handful of times. Unfortunately, your encounters were reduced to small greetings, stolen glances and light brushes as you walked past each other.
Until today.
You were sitting in the empty parlor room as Eloise ran to her room to fetch some ‘evidence’ and ‘clues’ about Lady Whistledown.
“Good Afternoon Y/N” Benedict greeted as he walked in, taking a quick look around the room to find the two of you alone.
“Afternoon Mr. Bridgerton,” you greeted back, a slight teasing tone to contrast your seemingly formality.
He gave you a knowing look before continuing.
“I hope I’m not being too forward, but I plan on attending Sir Granville’s tonight, I was wondering if I would see you there?”
You gave him a teasing smile before your face fell into a serious and hurt look.
“Mr. Bridgerton, I’m appalled, would a respectable young woman such as myself be caught there? Imagine the horror if the rest of the ton were to find out.”
He let out a loud laugh at your remark, in the short time that he had known you, you never failed to make him laugh.
“Yes Benedict, I’ll see you there,” you smiled.
“Good,” he replied.
******
That night you had a few drinks to help you take the edge off before guests started coming over. There was something about interacting with Benedict that made you nervous.
You were walking around the art studio observing the nude model and the artists renditions when you felt someone lay their hand on your shoulder.
“OH! Oh my, Benedict, you scared me.”
“Sorry, love, didn’t mean to startle you.”
You continued walking around the circle, admiring the art around you.
“She’s stunning, is she not?” you questioned.
“She is,” he answered quickly.
However, when you turned to look at him his eyes were already trained on yours.
You smiled widely, walking out of the studio as Benedict followed like a lost puppy.
“Will I ever get to see your art?” you asked him.
He smiled sheepishly as his arm reached back to scratch the back of his neck.
“I certainly would let you, if there was any.”
“Practicing here for a few months and you still have nothing to show?” you teased.
Benedict gave you a look.
“I may have asked around about you,” you confessed.
“And?” he asks.
From what you have heard, both from his siblings and other people around you. Benedict was a kind and creative soul, with a great appreciation for the beauty around him.
“Your family and friends speak highly of you, that’s important.”
“What about you? What do you speak of me?”
“Besides being a tortured artist? I think highly of you.”
He nodded his head again, before responding.
“I think highly of you as well,” he whispered quietly, leaning down slightly so he was more at eye level.
You blamed the alcohol in your system for what you did next.
Yanking him down by his collar, you pulled him close and reached up until your lips were flush against his, pushing with all your might as if you would never kiss him again.
“Y/N—” he pulled away, his senses flooding back.
“This is…no, I’ve dishonored you I—”
“Oh hush Benedict, I do not care about those rules. I want you.”
He looked down at you, holding your face in his hands as he searched your eyes for confirmation.
Biting your lip and grinning up at him, Benedict couldn’t help but pull you back in, one hand sinking to your waist to pull you closer, the other rested on your cheek.
“You know this means we have to get married now?” Benedict teases.
“That means you presume I would say yes,” you teased back.
His smile grew impossibly bigger as he pulled you back in for a tender kiss.
“Let’s just see how you perform tonight before we think about marriage” you joked.
Benedict pulled back with a smirk and look in his eye you haven’t seen yet as he looked you over.
“Art is all about practicing and perfecting, we might need to practice a few times before you make your final judgement” he teased back.
You threw your head back in surprise, a large laugh leaving your lips before you smiled sweetly at him.
This was not how you imagined the social season going.
check out the rest of my work ⤑ here!
#teentvimagines#bridgerton#bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton x y/n#benedict#benedict bridgerton x female reader#benedict bridgerton imagine#bridgerton masterlist#bridgerton imagines#anthony bridgerton#colin bridgerton#eloise bridgerton#daphne bridgerton#Spotify
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Portrait of a Woman Masterlist
Benedict paints the woman in his dream as per one Sir Henry Granville because, according to his mentor, when you paint the woman in your dream she will come to life. Only she does come to life, in the middle of the night, scaring the hell out of Benedict but not only that, she claims to be from the year 2025.
Preface: The dream
Chapter 1: Portrait of a Strange Woman
#insert the gayest gif of benedict possible#soulmate au if you squint#strangers to friends to lovers#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton fanfic#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton x you
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Chapter II ― champagne problems
Dom Pérignon, you brought it No crowd of friends applauded Your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems
Benedict Bridgerton was the perfect cliché of the second son. Free-spirited and carefree, he lived according to his own desires, relishing an independence that was precious to him. His character, both tender and slightly self-assured, was nurtured by the ease of a destiny that seemed already mapped out. Freed from the obligations that weighed on his elder brother, Anthony, Benedict was able to focus on pleasure and the pursuit of his own identity, far from the constraints imposed by the society.
His life was divided between his family and his seven siblings, soirées with the intellectual and artistic elite of the country, and his art: painting. Benedict had recently been accepted into the Royal Academy of Arts in London, where he was determined to spend most of his time. He was gifted with a certain talent and a keen and accurate vision of the world around him. He enjoyed spending hours sketching his clan in the family drawing room. Among the commotion and animated discussions, he drew in silence all the simple moments of his daily life: his sister Eloise diving into yet another book written by a woman, frowning as she read engaging lines. His sister Francesca's slender fingers on the piano, her discreet smile showing satisfaction with the melody she had just composed. Hyacinth and Gregory were the hardest to capture; the two youngest were constantly in motion, even while engaged in a game of chess. When at Aubrey Hall, their family estate in the countryside, which belonged to his brother and his wife, Benedict would take the time to immortalize the delicate features of his nephew, Edmund. And finally, he loved drawing his mother, Violet, who was rarely still but whom he always took pride in portraying.
His life, then, was as ordinary as could be for a gentleman of his rank. He could have chosen music, travel like his brother Colin, or literature, but it was painting that occupied all his thoughts.
When Benedict wasn't painting, he was talking about painting. He spent many of his evenings at some parties, all equally bohemian, accompanied by the entire intellectual elite of London. There, he met artists, musicians, philosophers, poets, and sometimes politicians whose worldviews fascinated him.
Finally, when these nights weren’t devoted to art, Benedict spent them in the company of women. He would not, for anything, trade his life with his elder brother’s, with whom he got along and who never commented on his actions. But the responsibility that occupied Anthony was far removed from his own pleasures. Not having ties, remaining free in both body and spirit, gave him great satisfaction.
It was a completely ordinary Thursday evening in his life. He was absorbed in a discussion with a certain Keats, a young poet who had only just published his writings, and Lady Hunt, whose husband, also a writer, had vanished from the party. With his shirt collar half-open and a glass of brandy in hand, Benedict was interrupted by his friend and mentor Sir Granville:
"You know Oliver Toms, don’t you? He’s a professor at the Academy!"
Benedict, while swallowing the last drop of the brown liquid, shook hands with this man, who was 20 cm shorter than him.
"Indeed, delighted to meet you, sir."
"Ah, Mr Bridgerton! I’ve heard of you in the human figure class !"
"I fear that’s not the area in which I excel…"
The man, a bit stocky with yellowed teeth from cigars, gave a slight smile.
"Nonsense! Henry told me you have a particular interest in landscapes? Is that so?"
Henry Granville, who had been observing the exchange until now, interrupted the conversation and didn’t give Benedict time to respond.
"He is one of the best, I’m sure of it!"
"Again, my friend is not a keen observer and far too generous in his praise of me," Benedict replied, moving to retrieve the brandy bottle from one of the shelves. While serving another round of drinks to his companions, Oliver Toms said:
"Come now, my friend, I’m sure you do very well. Modesty serves no purpose in art; it leads to oblivion, and an artist doesn’t want to be forgotten, does he? That’s the complete opposite of his work."
Benedict didn’t respond but gave an approving smile, not having the energy to engage in such a complex debate at a time when his blood was already thick with alcohol. The three men continued their discussion, debating the latest writings of Lord Byron, which Benedict didn’t hide his deep aversion to. After more than an hour of heated debate, Benedict, who was standing right next to the professor, wanted to start a lighter conversation and asked:
"May I know what class you teach, sir?"
"Call me Oliver, we are among artists here, and I am not your master…I mainly teach still life and an evening class for women."
Benedict seemed far more intrigued by this last information than by the subject of still life, a domain in which he had little interest. He knew that women were not officially accepted as students, and while this decision seemed harsh, he had never seen many paintings exhibited by women. Still, he suspected that despite everything, they were painting somewhere, far away from the institution’s gaze.
"Ladies? I didn’t know they were accepted?"
"No, of course not, they’re not, but two of them have very generous donors, and the third... well, she’s a model here and practically harassed all the professors for lessons."
Benedict smiled while placing his lips on the rim of his glass. It was, he thought, the last brandy of the evening.
"And what do you think of their work? Is it up to your expectations?"
"I’m rather surprised to tell you that yes, though it leads to nothing, and all of this seems rather ridiculous to me. None of them will ever reach the level of the masters."
If his sister Eloise had been there, he would have bet Oliver’s chances of leaving this debate unscathed would be scant. Benedict would have paid to see that.
"You have harsh words for the female sex. What do you think of Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun or Marie-Victoire Lemoine? Both are recognized…"
Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun was undoubtedly the most famous painter of the moment, at least among women. Before the Revolution, which had caused havoc across the Channel, she had been the official portraitist of Queen Marie-Antoinette, and her talent was recognized beyond borders. Benedict had admired some of her portraits that had travelled to London and had been deeply impressed by her style and her joyful colour palette (considering how the queen ended up…).
"You take French examples, and may God protect us from being as debauched as them... If she is recognized, it’s because she enjoyed the protection of the Queen. Few women can benefit from such status."
"So it doesn’t challenge their talent, but their opportunity, does it, Professor? I would be quite intrigued to see the work of your students."
Benedict had drunk too much. Not enough to be completely drunk and lie down in the middle of the room, but enough to feel he wouldn’t last in this conversation without getting angry. He was naturally calm, perhaps too calm, but above all, very playful, and loved pushing people to their limits. However, he felt it wasn’t worth it with the professor; he was far too tired for that.
"Well, come one evening, Mr Bridgerton, and you’ll judge for yourself."
"I shall not miss it," Benedict replied, as he put on his waistcoat and looked around for his coat, which he had left there hours ago.
"I didn’t know you were a defender of the female cause, my dear? Is that how you seduce all the women?"
This last comment, while he was already no longer listening to the professor, made him smile. Benedict was aware of his certain charm, and he knew how to use it with women, but he had never really thought about the intellectual aspect it could take. If women found him charming, it was mostly because of his name and his physique rather than his intellectual musings on current society.
"No, I’m afraid I don’t really know how to seduce them, but having grown up with four sisters, I had to learn, to my detriment, not to be too harsh on the female sex."
He didn’t let Oliver Toms respond and shook his hand, adding: "Thank you for your company, sir. I hope to cross paths with you in the Academy corridors, and I’ll make sure to meet your female students at some point."
But the opportunity didn’t arise. Benedict was far too occupied with perfecting his craft to admire the work of his peers.
In June, the air was warm, though it was the middle of the night. Benedict felt as though he were reliving a familiar scene: chatting with strangers, engaging in animated discussions and debates, stealing a few kisses from women, and consuming litres of alcohol. For the first time in his life, Benedict wondered if this was truly the life he wanted. The answer was no.
#benedict bridgerton x fem!reader#benedict bridgerton fanfic#benedict bridgerton x oc#benedict bridgerton smut#benedict bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton x y/n#benedict bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton fanfiction
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I’ve heard whispers that they might genderswap one of the love interests to make it lqbtiq+
If they did, it would make the most sense to do it to Benedict and Sophie.
To be clear, I like Sophie. I just think it could work. But, Benedict is so easily bi.
I mean, in my opinion, Lady Tilley is going to be his catalyst to be the main character next season.
So, if he is looking to try something out and meets some handsome gentleman at a masquerade ball. Or at one of his artist parties it could make sense for him to give into his bisexual soul.
Then, Benedict meets him again but keeps thinking it’s just a bit on the side and he’s going to meet some woman and marry her just like Sir Henry Granville. But, ‘Sophie’ is not having it even as they keep falling into bed. They still do all the stuff with the evil stepmother. Mama Bridgerton tells him about her great aunt and her companion. Benedict comes to his senses and declares himself, saves ‘Sophie’ from the docks, in Anthony’s last appearance. They move to the country and paint and are there for Eloise’s story.
I know they could easily go down a lesbian storyline for Eloise too.
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So imagine DEFGH with Edmund and Violet KNOWING and 100% sure that ABC have fallen inlove with KSP but are refusing to admit it because they are dumb so the time came where its getting closer to choose the Elites and DEF decided to up the tension by bringing in men to make ABC jealous. Like Dorset who is the familu's doctor, Henry Granville who is Ben's artist friend (and maybe ex-lover) and Odysseus who is Colin's travel buddy from time to time. Basically I just want a scene where ABC are FUMING mad because these 3 outsiders are suddenly taking an interest with their ladies???? Lmao
Oh this would be interesting, but Kate, Sophie, and Penelope would probably weary as hell. One thing I forgot to mention is that the Selection has a strict no dating others rule for the girls while they are in the competition. Which makes sense, can’t have the potential future queen falling in love with someone else and potentially creating a security risk when she is literally in the competition for the prince. Not to mention not many would be the same caste number as the girls. Why would they give up the nice life they will create as 3s for some man? No sir, I will become a spinster after this if you do not match.
But that would be funny if the three men come to the castle for one reason or another, either to visit their friends or for work. Hyacinth and Gregory take advantage of the visit and lead the three around where they bump into the girls. They gain an interest in the three girls which ranges from completely platonic, (Henry) to maybe there is some attraction (Dorset and Odysseus) but the girls don’t even notice. They’re too busy networking with their new besties.
The public does though, and they are running wild with new theories. Excitement of love triangles and forbidden attraction. What are these men going to do? What are the princes going to do? Who will these girls choose? At one point the PR team gotta step in because okay, the Selection is about the princes finding their wives not this!
The shippers who are shipping Kate, Sophie, and Penelope with Dorset, Henry, and Odysseus highly offends the princes and soon they’re being seen close to the girls. The girls throw something at them at one point for being grumpy asses while having a friendly meeting in the girls room.
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Henry swallowed- The room was becoming unbearably hot. He left his coat by the bedside table, unbuttoning his shirt- It seemed to be choking him somehow. He took a seat next to the bed, watching, his body quite tense.
“I rather don’t mind how you treat me.. As long as I’m being treated at all. It is rather torturous to be neglected.” She purred under her breath. Of course- It was neither of the Granville’s faults that she had to find sustenance outside of her husband’s care. She didn’t blame Henry for not engaging with her sexually- She knew it made him uneasy, uncomfortable- It wasn’t in his nature to be able to be intimate with her. It never had been, and it never would be.
Underneath the sheet, Lucy was already bare. Her hair and soft makeup were still intact- Her hair done up in a little clasp on the top of her head, her slight curls bouncing over her shoulders. Her tan skin seemed to glow in the candlelight- She absolutely thrived here, her body on display.
She admired Benedict as he removed his clothing, her arm subconsciously moving up to stroke along his face. “You, my good sir, also know how to entice someone, it seems..” She said, her voice dripping with seduction- She’d already gotten a taste of Benedict in the past, and she was excited to know him infinitely better.
Henry climbed off the bed, still very naked as he bent over to dig through a drawer next to the bed. He rummaged through it for a bit before he pulled out a small vial, which seemed to be filled with oil. He stood up, facing Benedict with a cheeky smile before he walked over and planted his lips against Benedict’s, slipping the bottle into Benedict’s hand.
He slipped back underneath the other man, getting comfortable again. “You’ll need this. I trust you, Benedict- And I’ll walk you through it. Okay?” He purred, kissing at Benedict’s chin and neck as he ran his hands down his torso. His hands were gentle, but needy- As if urging Benedict to go further. He gripped at Benedict’s hips, pulling him closer, letting their hips collide with one another’s. The heat of their bodies pooling together.
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Rewatching Bridgerton and I just realized in Episode 5 that the reason Benedict reacts like that to being introduced to Granvilles wife was not because he'd seen Granville being Gay AF at the orgy, but rather because right after seeing that, he'd gone and shagged said wife at the orgy
#bridgerton netflix#1x05 the duke and I#benedict bridgerton#absolute bi-disaster#sir Henry Granville
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A Gentleman’s Eye
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Word Count : 1264
# = your first initial
You’d heard a Bridgerton had started coming to Lord Granville’s parties but you’d never seen them there before. You yourself had only been to one once before. Henry had insisted you came as soon as your obligatory year of mourning had finished. Your old and lecherous husband had kept you practically locked away at your estate since he married only a few years previous. His greasy, sweaty palms had only touched you once or twice – trying to produce an heir, before breathed his last in some East End brothel and left you with an estate and your title.
You wandered the halls of the party for a while, wearing a half mask that just about concealed your identity. Still thinking about the Bridgerton in attendance you occupied your mind trying to decipher which one of them it could be. A brother, obviously – no unmarried lady of standing would risk being seen here, lest she completely leave behind her reputation. So, a brother. The eldest was a known rake, but an artists den didn’t seem like the type of establishment he’d frequent judging by the last conversation you’d had with him. The younger, Colin? If you recalled, perhaps the poor boy had been led here unawares. No, you had your money on the second son, he’d always had a wandering eye when it came to society and you were fairly sure of your guess as you thought on it more.
Slipping through the gatherings of small groups with your wine in hand, you could have missed him – being obscured by an easel, where it not for Sir Granville calling out for you and guiding you into the artists den. Henry talked away, explaining the theme of the evening and introducing you to some of the artists as you payed no mind at all. Caught in the captivating image of Benedict Bridgerton, illuminated by the glow of the fireplace, concentration clear on his furrowed brow and curved lip.
‘My dear, I have lost you’ Sir Henry jested, seeing you otherwise occupied.
‘No n… not at all, I am sorry’
‘Don’t be. Had he not had that effect on me I doubt he would have found his way here at all’ he chuckled, sipping at his glass. You both looked on. The concentration he gave to his work was undeniably attractive, but the open waistcoat and rolled sleeves made your corset feel tighter that it had before entering the room.
Feeling warm all of a sudden and completely out of your depth you made your excuses and returned to the hallway, feeling cooler already as you went in search of another glass of wine, and more platonic company.
Your husband had never spent much time with you, thank the lord, only the occasional weekend where he would lock himself away in his study with his steward. It left you a lot of time to read, and drink, and wander the painted halls alone, and untouched.
The evening wandered on and the few glasses of wine you had indulged in had taken slight effect, leaving you rosy and less guarded than before.
Benedict leant against a wall as he watched the hoards around him, leaning back to take a drag of his cigarette. Deciding on another glass of wine to fill the void left by his art he turned for wherever the source of the wine had been previously and almost toppled over a figure in his path.
Falling off your heel you were saved from toppling completely by two large hands coming around your waist to save you. As you pulled the fallen mask from your face you saw you were mere inches away from the face of Benedict Bridgerton, the man who had taken over your thoughts for the entire evening.
‘Lady Y/N’ Benedict exclaimed ‘I do apologise, I didn’t see you’
‘The fault is all mine’ you interrupted as he pulled you to your feet
‘No, I insist. I payed no mind to where I was going’ he carried on, taking your hand in his. You noted his other hand was still holding the small of your waist. ‘t least let me get you another glass’ he noted, looking down at the crystal shards strewn on the floor. He looked up at you through his lashes and you locked eyes, his crooked smile making your chest flutter as he led you gently through the halls to another glass of wine.
His conversation enthralled you – for the brother of Anthony Bridgerton you half expected him to know nothing of art and culture, however his knowledge and charm exceeded all expectations and you practically hung on his every word as you discussed the great renaissance painters. Your quiet corner of the house remained so as you talked between yourselves, only candlelight to accompany you as talked about your passions and wants in life.
The closer you became the more you enjoyed the warmth Benedict’s body emitted, his scent surrounded you and you wanted nothing more than to curl into it. Benedict was leaning in to you as well. Although he usually attended these parties in the hopes of forming more intimate relations with a woman for the evening, he found you utterly captivating. Your mask long gone he took the opportunity to drink in your features, mulling them over as only an artist could.
As you continued talking about an exhibition you had seen at Somerset House the year previous Benedict took it upon himself to brush a stray curl away from your eyes. The action took you both off guard and your closeness became apparent to both of you when his soft fingers trailed slowly down the side of your face.
‘You are unutterably beautiful; do you know that?’ Benedict whispered lowly.
‘Do you say that to everyone you bump into?’ you quipped back, wine slowing your speech
‘Never in my life’ he growled, towering over you as you pressed a palm to his chest.
‘I am a Lady’ you sighed – his closeness enough to set every hair on your body on edge. His breath bringing goose bumps out on your skin.
‘And I a Gentleman… My Lady’ Benedict whispered into your skin as he laid one solitary soft kiss to the bared skin of your shoulder. Your breath caught in your throat. Never in all your years had anyone treated you with such softness. As he pulled back, he brushed the tip of his nose gently across your jawline, separating you both mere inches as you had been before. ‘I have never met a woman like you before.’
‘You shouldn’t have met me tonight’ you smirked, knowing that this couldn’t go any further than you both wanted it too. It was already dangerous enough being here without your mask, but in a darkened corner with a gentleman, you could be ruined.
Benedict leaned back, wiping his hand over his face to sober himself up. Of course - he could ruin you like this, and however much he desired you he couldn’t be your downfall. You slipped out off of the bench and out of the soft grasp of his fingertips, fleeing through the open door; holding your mask to your face before your carriage swept you away into the night. Benedict watched through the frosted window as you were carried away into the night. Already missing your presence he turned to see you had left your handkerchief on the table – Initials decorating the corner read #P. Pocketing the item as he stood to retire for the evening he determined that he would find you again.
#my writing#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton imagine#bridgerton novels#bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton#elouise bridgerton#daphne bridgerton#Sir Henry Granville
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so, i just rewatched Bridgerton with my mama and as much as i love the show i do have a critique that i haven't seen brought up at all. first, i want to say that i absolutely love the idea of period pieces being made more inclusive and set in a forward thinking society. like give us this 100 more times. no more period pieces where the only poc are maids or slaves. fuck those.
but why then, if you are already changing the source material and the history to make it more inclusive, do lgbtq+ people still have to hide and be at risk? why has society only progressed so far if "Love conquers all." as the incredible Lady Danbury so wonderfully puts it? don't us queer folks deserve to see ourselves happy in period pieces too?
if you are already adding in storylines to open the door for diversity then how hard is it to add in one about the queen's lesbian daughter or her trans son? i mean as it is there are only two gay characters in the show (only one of whom who talks) and no trans characters. and if i remember right both of them are white. lgbtq+ poc deserve more then that.
the point is, why in a show about love conquering all does MY love have to hide in the shadows still? how is that right?
#bridgerton#lgbtq#shonda rhimes#shondaland#lgbt representation#lady danbury#sir henry granville#henry granville#lord whetherby#netflix#bridgerton netflix
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You're making me kinda wanna write it ngl... (tho I don't have enough of an idea of how they meet at first to actually do it yet)
like their sister/daughter whom they know absolutely detesting the thought of marriage all of a sudden being all gung-ho about it.
This is funnier cause originally i figured at some point Aethelred was probably gonna have met Benedict before thanks to one of Sir Henry Granville's parties so Benedict probably knows what going on with them and is just like sitting there unsure if he should actually say anything or if he should just watch this unfold and see what chaos reigns if the rest of his family eventually learns
(meanwhile the rest of the bridgertons are trying to figure out what's up with this new person who apparently was just able to convince Eloise to want to get married)
I wanna make a Bridgerton OC that's a bit of a gender fuck (maybe nb or genderqueer or smth idk) who technically feels disconnected from their birth sex and gender as a whole but rejoins high society parading themselves as a male (cause it makes life easier) and for them to end up in marriage of convenience with Eloise Bridgerton (probably use he and she instead of them - that was purely just for this post.)
#they're not sure whether to be happy or freaked the fuck out#meanwhile benedict's just sitting there like#okay i think ik what both of u are but like. guess i'll let yall be :)#bridgerton#she would be the most supportive wife in existance#and in her own way become protective#i would like to present to you Eloise “my fucking person” bridgerton#<- PLEASE#they'd be entertaining af#benedict if it was ever revealed “oh so u guys know now?” the rest if the bridgertons: YOU KNEW???#benedict: yeah. did i foget to say anything? mustve slipped my mind - whoopsie. cant do anything about it now 🤷♂️
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A Smile Across the Floor (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)
A/N: I have started, finally, reading the Bridgerton novels and omg! I love them so much, esepcially the brothers! Anyway have another imagine/oneshot :)
Masterlist
Part 2: The Card Part 3: Flowers
The ballroom at Lady Danbury’s was packed with debutantes and mothers, all waiting for the next match to be made. Mothers peraded their daughters around the floor like horses waiting to be sold to the highest bidder, each one groomed to perfection. (Y/N) Keats felt massively out of place at such an event, she did not have a mother to parade her around the room or even hold her hand. Her older brother Henry hadn’t even bothered to come, he’d found a wife the last season. She was insufferable woman who wanted (Y/N) out of their home as soon as possible. If she had not recieved an invitation to join Sir Henry Granville and his wife for the season she was certain she’d have been forced to marry the local vicar.
“Stop fretting my dear you look beautiful” Lucy Granville assured the nervous young woman who was almost shaking with fear. This wasn’t the world that she was use to. Her brother always hid her away from the world, mainly becuase he saw her as a burden and embaressment. She was far too smart, and artistic for his liking. She was too beautiful for the liking of his wife, and as such (Y/N) had been treated as a useless burden for most of her life. So being dressed up in a fine gown in a ballroom wasn’t in (Y/N)‘s comfort zone.
Benedict Bridgerton had been hiding in the corner of the ballroom with Eloise, both trying to avoid their mother and who they’d be forced into dancing with. Eloise was in the middle of a rant about how uncomfortable her dress was, when one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. She looked around the room as if she’d never been in a room like this or at least with this many people. He noted how she stayed close to the Granville’s who she’d arrived with, he carried on watching her for most of the evening.
“She’s not normally this nervous.” the voice of Henry Granville made Benedict jump out of his thoughts. He turned to his mentor with a raised eyebrow, as if to ask what he could mean.
“Benedict I may not be an expert in matches, but I know that look in your eyes. (Y/N) is a lovely young woman, she is staying with us. Maybe you should come over tomorrow, she likes Hyacinths.” with that Granville walked away from they young man.
Benedict watched as Henry made his way over to his wife and their ward, he whispered something in the young woman’s ear and she blushed. Looking across the room she made eye contact with Beneditct. The world stopped, everyone froze in place as they looked at each other and smiled.
#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton oneshot#benedict bridgerton fluff#bridgerton fluff#bridgerton oneshot
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Portrait of a Woman Teaser
Series summary: Benedict paints the woman in his dream as per one Sir Henry Granville because, according to his mentor, when you paint the woman in your dream she will come to life. Only she does come to life, in the middle of the night, scaring the hell out of Benedict but not only that, she claims to be from the year 2025.
Warnings: None for this part
🖼🎨♥️🎨🖼
A young woman danced around a field, a chestnut coloured horse pranced along with her. Together they moved in slow motion, her dress flowed around her like water and the wind whipped her hair around her face as she laughed.
“Benedict!” She called to him.
Benedict grinned at her from where he sat with his back against an oak tree. His sketchbook was open in front of him but was long forgotten as he watched the woman let go of all her worries. He had intended to draw when the two set out this morning but that thought was abandoned as easily as the book Eloise had lent her.
Her horse slowed to a stop a few feet away and Benedict let out a laugh as he saw the horse tilt his head as if to ask her why she had stopped playing with him. Benedict lowered his eyes to his sketchbook, hoping she wouldn’t notice that the tips of his ears were now bright pink.
“Benedict!” She called again.
When Benedict looked up, he was struck by how beautiful you were. He had know you were beautiful since the first time he saw you and he has been continuously reminded ever since but this is the first time your beauty caused a tight feeling in his chest.
Behind you was a small boy, he couldn’t have been more than 5, he looked similar to benedict when he was around the same age but there was something different about his smile.
“Father!” the little boy called out.
Now Benedict could see as you grabbed the little boy's hand, the two of you walking towards him, smiling.
“Benedict, my love, what on earth could you be so deep in thought about?”
The boy had your smile.
“I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have you both, how lucky I am to have found you and how in love with you I am.” Benedict heard his voice list. The words were so natural, rolling off his tongue as if he’s said them a thousand times, as if they were meant to be said a thousand more.
“Benedict,” You giggled as he pulled you into his lap. Little Charles fell onto the both of you, not knowing what it was he was giggling about but, giggling nonetheless.
“Benedict.” You said again, more serious this time. Benedict frowned at you, whatever it was that was making you unhappy would be dealt with immediately, he swore it.
“What is it, my love?” He asked, brushing his hand through your hair.
“You need to wake up.” You tell him, cupping his face in your hand.
“This is a dream?” He asked, his heart dropped to his stomach. You nodded at him and he ripped his eyes away from yours only to find that you were now alone in the field. The horses were gone and your son was nowhere to be found. Your book and his sketchbook were missing from where they lay beside him mere seconds ago. He had just noticed the blanket he was sat on had disappeared as well, along with the picnic basket you brought along, he could have sworn there was a basket, you’d broughten along a picnic, had you not?
“Benedict,” you tugged his face to look at you. “You have to wake up now my love.”
“No.” he choked, “No, I will not. I will not leave you.” He declared, shaking his head vigorously.
You brushed your thumb along his cheek and he stilled.
“I don’t want to leave you.” He whispered, a single tear flowing from his eye.
“I know,” you said, using your thumb to brush away his tear then leaning forward to kiss away the tear that fell from his other eye. “But you must. You must wake up and find me.”
With a scream, Benedict felt you being ripped away from each other.
#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton fanfic#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton#portrait of a woman
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Headcannons accepted.
And same on Charles Blake! 😂🤣
I’m headcanoning Benedict as bi and Eloise as an ace lesbian.
Also I was not expecting Charles Blake from Downton Abbey to show up and be Benedict’s bi awakening
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