#anthony bridgerton & sister!reader

[artteristly]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊, 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐁.

SUMMARY, you’ve had made peace with yourself knowing that you’d be a spinster for the rest of your life, so that you could take care of your little sibling, such as because they see you as their mother. Who would have thought just because you tagged along with your twin brother to an invited vacation, you’d meet your future husband who suffered the same responsibility?

MASTERLIST , 𝓌ord count, 6.6K

𝒞andles were the main light source to guide you through the dark halls of your home when your younger brothers had nightmares. Your hand was rather larger than theirs, but you still let their tiny fingers lead you to their room. Speaking about how in their nightmare it was a night roaring with thunder and you and your twin brother were nowhere to be seen.  

You hush them to sleep, raking your fingers through their hair and letting their unconscious body cling to yours. While tucking them in again, you hear the door open slightly. “A nightmare?” Oliver spoke out, making you soften your gaze on him. “It is like they were there when Mother died.” You sigh as you ruffle one of the twin's hair. 

“They are haunted by the night they were born.” You frown, simply because this wasn’t the first they came crying into your room about the horrid dream they had. Oliver seemed to sense your stress and took you away from the twin's room. “We simply can’t do anything about it sister, but try to raise them differently.” He sighed. 

It had been years since your mother's death, and you took the responsibility to take care of your younger brothers. Her cause of death was because of them, having no choice but to be cut open and die bleeding while hugging her causes. Your mother huffed as she gave you her final orders as a mother before dying. 

Her death was heartbreaking and the one who took it to heart was your father. He died a week after from a broken heart, leaving your brother to be the new lord of the family, and you the lady of the house until your brother married. 

You were presented to society as requested by your aunt, but when no suitors understood your desire to raise your brothers, you simply didn’t marry. You were a spinster to society and a mother figure to your siblings. 

“I don’t know Oliver, I hate seeing them suffer.” You walk into his study and sit yourself down, him following your actions. “You seem to grow the senses of a mother, sister.” Oliver smiled and sighed until he remembered something from earlier today. “I’ve received an invitation from one of my old friends, they invited us to their countryside home, where they will host a ball soon.” He looked over, catching how this took all of your attention. 

“It would be nice, you and the boys would love some vacation, especially you since you're the one who needs it the most.” You stood up and smiled, taking your shawl and covering yourself once again walking straight to the door. “So it’s a yes?” Oliver asked making you laugh lightly and then nodding. “Of course Oliver, who am I to deny you of relaxation?” 

He laughed lightly before watching you walk away to finally sleep, and he returned to his desk to do his duties. 

You’ve noticed it had been quite some time since you were in the countryside, and seeing Aubrey Hall was quite astonishing when you first saw it. Thomas and Richard bounced excitedly when they saw the house, blabbering about how it was gorgeous and humongous. “You must act like gentlemen while you are here, well-mannered and respectful.” You told them watching as they nodded furiously and repeated ‘Yes big sister!’ over and over. 

When the carriage stopped you saw the Bridgerton family spill out of the front door, lining up to greet your family. Once you stepped out someone called your last name out, making you look up to see an older man smiling at your brother. “Clarke!” 

“Bridgerton!” Your brother smiled and shook the man's hand, then hugged for a second before he introduced his family. “Dear friend, I’m quite hurt you wouldn’t invite me to your wedding nor tell me you had a family..” Anthony spoke, making you laugh at the face Oliver made. “My Lord, you’re mistaken, I’m Oliver's sister, and these are our siblings Thomas and Richard.”  You smile at his bewildered face. 

“My Apologies.” Anthony ducked his head, making you chuckle and dismay the mistake. “Please do join us for tea!” Violet smiled at the four of you, gladly being invited in. 

You were astonished by their home, it seemed like a wonderful place to grow up in. The tea room was more beautiful as you sat with Oliver on one of the sofas. “Mother, can we go out and play in the garden with Thomas and Richard?” You learned that the youngest Bridgerton siblings were Hycinth and Gregory, somewhat the same age as Thomas and Richard. “Of course, if it all right with their older siblings.” Violet looked over for your permission. 

“Sister, can we? Please!” Richard came up to you, right behind him was Thomas talking to Hycinth. You look over to Oliver, and he nods and allows it. “You may, but don’t cause trouble!” You spoke, and automatically they thanked you and promised nothing but good deeds. 

Violet smiles at your motherly aura, making you smile back at her when you catch her staring. The moment was wonderful and not long after dinner was being served, that was when you separated yourself to find your little siblings. A servant leading you outside to them, you were about to call out to them until a voice behind you did it for you. “Everyone, time for dinner!”

You looked behind your shoulder to find Anthony behind you, he instantly looked at you. “Thank you, My Lord.” You bowed your head, you were about to leave until he spoke.  “I hope you do forgive me about earlier.” He said, you raised an eyebrow a bit confused. “About what My lord?” You asked before turning your head and looking for Richard and Thomas, they were running straight at you. “About me mistaking you for Oliver's wife,” Anthony confessed. 

You smiled softly before yelling at the boys not to run inside, again turning over towards him. “Don’t worry about it, My lord.” You laugh lightly before you watch him offer his arm, making you confused once again. “Allow me to show you where dinner is held..” He smiled, and you once again smiled out of kindness, before taking his hand. 

You flinch awake when you feel someone slip under your bedsheet, making you peek your eyes open. Only to find Thomas sniffling his tears, making you well aware of what was happening. Thomas was always the most sensitive one out of the twins, he was a soft boy who was very kind. “Thomas, what happened?” You whisper, caressing your hand on his cheek, wiping his tears away. 

“I had a nightmare again.” He sniffled, he was visibly shaken up. His night clothes were crinkled, his hair was ruffled and some parts were drenched in sweat. His blue eyes were puffed and his nose was snotty, making your heartache. 

You turn over in your bed and light up the side candle on your night table, the dim light making everything around it glow a soft light. You push the duvets and blankets away and put on your slippers, walking inside the bathroom to the side of it. Thomas sat up and grew shy, were you mad at him?

“C’mere Thomas, we don’t want you going to bed all sweaty.” You came back in the room with a damp towel, rubbing it along his hair, trying to clean up the sweat off his hair and neck. “Lay down.” You told him before going into the bathroom again. When you came back, the towel was damp again but this time you placed it around his face, hoping the cold towel would calm him down. 

You sit beside him on the bed, pulling your knees towards you. “What was your nightmare about?” You asked softly when you uttered those words, you could feel him tense around you. “You can talk to me when you’re ready if it’s too hard, for now, we can just be in each other presence.” You run your fingers in his hair, feeling him ease up. 

After a few minutes he talked, but his words trembled like he was about to say something wrong but spoke. “I saw Mother, in my dream.” He said, just now leaning a bit more into your side. “She was with Papa, and you. She was cradling you in her arms, saying how you were doing a good job.” He sniffled, closing his eyes trying to remember again. 

“Then everything sort of started to disappear, she kept saying how it was time for you to join them, and she disappeared again and left you crying.” Tears swelled in his eyes, trembling. “Do you miss Mother and Father, sister?” He looked up at you, making you bite your tongue, not wanting to cry in front of him. “Of course I do.” You swallow the sadness down. “Do you hate me for taking them away?”

“Thomas, never say such words.” You spoke calmly at him, making him look away. “You are my brother and I must take care of you–Mother told me it was my final order as a big sister.” You told him. “Everyone is destined to go somewhere they might return from, it was simply their time to go.” You stated. 

“You won’t leave us alone, right sister?” Thomas looked at you, his gaze holding hope and fear. “Never, I’ll be by your side until you are big enough not to need me all the time.” You smiled at his foolish question. “I think, I’ll always need you here with me sister.” He murmured, finally closing his eyes. 

As he falls asleep in your bed, you can’t help but sigh.  

Candles were the main light source to guide you through the dark halls of the Bridgerton house, taking a peek inside your brother's guest room. Only to find the bed still neatly made, so you wandered around until you heard soft laughter in the Billard room. You peek in, seeing your Brother playing pool with Anthony. Colin and Benedict drinking on the side, chatting between themselves, and drowning in smoke.

Your soft knock on the door startles them, making their eyes stare at the door. “Sister?” Oliver looked at you confused. You smiled nervously before talking “Sorry to interrupt but I need your help.” You say. “What with?” He asked, more confused than the first. “It is Thomas.” With that, your brother is hastily walking towards you. 

“He had another nightmare, he is drenched in sweat.” You whispered at him, eyeing him and the Bridgerton brothers who stood quite confused. “Did something happen, should I send for a doctor?” Anthony was the first to speak out. You and Oliver looked at each other and communicated with your eyes. 

“No, our brother is simply hogging my bed.” You smiled softly at him, before pulling your brother's sleeve. “Again, sorry to interrupt, have a good night gentleman.” You bow your head down, before walking out of the room. “I’ll be right back.” Oliver excused himself. 

After you left, the band of brothers looked at each other “What do you think that was about?” Benedict asked, making Colin think. “Perhaps the boy simply has an attachment issue?” The two brothers keep talking but the elder one is still glancing at the place where you stood. He knew the look you gave to your brother meant something, something he knew about. 

It was simply the same look his mother gave him when she needed to carry the young ones to bed because she alone couldn’t pick them up. As he stood there in thought, he started to think more. You were similar to his mother, giving the same comfort around other people. You gave those boys so much motherly love, just like his mother did with him and his brothers. 

“Perhaps she is just a mother figure to those boys.” Anthony simply said, taking a sip of his liquor. Benedict and Colin brushed him off and continued talking, they wouldn’t get it anyway. A figure will always recognize another. 

The sun playfully peaked through the blue curtains, making your eyes flutter open slowly. You hum as you let your body wake up, stretching to each corner of your guest bed. You felt amazing like you just gotten the best rest of your life, instantly placing you in a good mood. 

You have gotten yourself ready for today, wearing a light purple dress and placing your hair down, showing off its length. You smiled at the thought of having a peaceful morning in this gorgeous country home, simply sitting near the garden, enjoying the morning breeze and a book. 

You slip out of your room and walk downstairs. 

Anthony flinched, hearing floorboards creaking in his home. He could feel the house become alive but could hear someone speak to others. He wondered who it could be since he was usually the first one up. He sighed and shuffled out of his bedsheets, peaking out of his view of the backyard, only to see you sitting with a book in your hand. 

He wondered what you were doing, he could only slowly start waking up while looking at you. Should he join you for tea? He asked himself, before making his mind up and doing so. 

He slowly shuffled out of his trousers and slipped into his clothes of the day, then walked out of his room. The morning staff greeted him, and he then ordered him to bring tea outside where you were, they quickly did what they were ordered to do. 

You got startled when a soft ‘good morning.’ spoke out towards you, making you look behind and see who was responsible. “Ah, Good morning, My lord.” You smiled while standing up, and curtsying towards him. “Please, May I join you?” Anthony smiled, gesturing to the free seat, in which you nodded. 

“How was your night? Was everything to your liking?” He asked, making you place a bookmark on your book. “Everything was perfect, you shouldn’t worry.” You smiled, noticing a maid coming up and serving tea. “If you don’t mind me asking, was everything alright yesterday night?” Anthony questioned. 

You looked at him as you were going in to sip tea, and you placed it down softly. “Thomas is a compassionate boy, he gets scared easily, and he has recurring nightmares.” You tell him, catching how worried he looks. “He sneaks into my room, simply seeking comfort.” After that, you take a sip out of your tea. 

Anthony nodded, he could only think of how many times he had to help his Mother with Hycinth and Eloise, and sometimes Daphne. “Seems like our duty as older siblings.” He said with a soft smile, making you look at him. “How are your siblings? Are they well-behaved, or perhaps chaotic?” You smiled when he sat up in his chair. 

“They are way different from yours, they are bipolar, and they switch moods mostly all the time.” He smiles, bringing his teacup up to his lips. “Especially Hycinth and Gregory, those two are always at it.” He sighed into the cup before sipping his tea. “Richard and Thomas are sweet boys, they don’t like causing trouble.” You laughed at the thought. 

“Miss Clarke, I find it honorable what you are doing.” Anthony smiled softly at you, making you tilt your head. “Of what, My lord?” Your eyes glued right at his, trying to study his expression. When you get the idea of what he is saying, you place your teacup down. “My Lord, It is simply our duty as older siblings.” You smile softly. “We must provide our younger siblings with emotional and physical security.” 

His breath hitched as he looked at you. You had worded his thoughts perfectly like you knew what he was thinking. “Morning.” You both turn over to see Benedict stretching as Colin and Oliver come downstairs, and you simply smile at the three. “Morning gentlemen, I hope after all the fun you had yesterday night you rested well.” Benedict nodded happily, thanking you and sitting right next to you, popping a light biscuit in his mouth. 

“Do not worry Sister, after I won a game of pool against Colin, we simply went to sleep.” Oliver ruffled your hair, and in return, you smiled at him. “Yes, do not worry Miss Clarke, after your brother finally won a game against me, he quickly retreated to bed.” Colin corrected Oliver, making you giggle. Amid your conversation with the other three, Anthony kept looking at you quietly. 

How was it that you clicked so easily with his siblings? You were at most a natural when it came to socializing with others, easily joining the conversation you were immediately included in. You did your duty as the Lady of the house quite easily, while you helped your brother with paperwork and money problems. You were about everything he was trying to be or be with. 

“Breakfast is ready, My lord.” A maid called out, making him snap out of his thoughts. “Shall we?” He smiled and walked inside, making the rest walk inside. As he walked into the main area, he could see the boys running toward you and your brother. “Brother, Sister! Good morning.” Richard jumped into Oliver's hands, while the boy ruffled his hair. Thomas on the other hand grabbed your hand and smiled, making you caress his cheek. 

During breakfast, out of the corner of his eye. He could see you acting motherly towards them, making him intrigued, and have some questions. 

Then again during tea time, you were sowing back up one of Richard's handkerchiefs, touching the fabric up. Richard read out loud with you, while you corrected him on some words. 

His last thought was seeing you play with them, running in the green field in front of Aubrey Hall, right in front of his study, he stretched, needing a break, and as if Benedict heard his wishes, he came into his study. “Brother, do join us for pallmall.” His tilted smile was on full display. 

Anthony walked downstairs to find his whole family waiting, huddling around the rack filled with different colored mallets. He saw you crouched down, holding your finger out towards Thomas and Hycinth whose eyes widened as you told them that the insect on your finger was a butterfly. 

“Sister, will you be joining us?” Oliver asked you, letting the butterfly fly away and making the children run after it. “I’m playing with Thomas and Hycinth! Perhaps another day!” You smiled lightly seeing a pout on your brother's face. 

Anthony felt his hands sweat, just as you uttered those words, a gold ray of the sun landed on your skin. Making him utterly mesmerized by your image, then leaving him clenching his first tightly as you ran towards the children, making the wind an actor as it runs itself through your long hair. 

It shined rightly under the sun, he could’ve mistaken you for a fairy. Benedict pushed him out of his thoughts and ushered him to play the game.

That night Anthony felt strange as he laid in his bed, absolutely devoured by the thought of you. What was going on with him? He was high with the sound of your sweet voice, your smile, and your kindness. He wanted to entangle his finger in your hair, he wanted you to caress his face. 

He groaned, why was this happening to him? Just when he puts love off to the side, his heart starts to throb for someone. Was it wrong as well? You were his friend's younger sister. He huffs as he stands up once again, he shivers at the thought of you running your hands behind him, wrapping them around his waist. Was he mad? Was he insane? He shouldn’t be thinking about you. 

He walked towards his study until he saw a dim light in the library that was connected to his study. “Who is in here?” He spoke out and like his thoughts were heard about someone, you stood still there, like you were deer caught while hunting. “Sorry, am I not supposed to be in here?” You went still, watching as Anthony walked in laughing a bit. “No, Do not worry, you are allowed to be here.” He chuckled as he saw your grip loosed on your shawl. 

“You gave me quite the scare, My lord.” You laughed breathlessly before pushing the book back in its place. You looked at Anthony who kept looking at you, making you nervous. “You have a beautiful library, it puts mine to shame.” You grabbed a book that you recognized easily, sliding it off the shelf.

"It was my late fathers, he took pride in his collection, we say Eloise got that habit from him.” He walked towards you, a good arm's length away, looking down at the book you were holding. 

“Pride and Prejudice?” He smiled, making you nod scanning the book cover. “A lovely love story, both of the characters overcoming pride and prejudice and surrendering to love each other.” You hum out, handing the book to him. “I rather think it’s quite aggravating.” Antony hummed out, looking up to see your reaction. 

“Oh, why do you find it ‘aggravating’?” You asked directly giving him your attention. “It bothers me how much they deny each other, and how she can’t see he’s being a gentleman.” He mutters placing the book back, falling a bit weak in his knees when your eyes examine him. You find it amusing, and to show it you it, you giggle. “Well, it’s romantic when a man is desperate for a woman's love.” You walked away towards the window. 

Anthony watched as you walked away from him, he felt the cold brush his skin where your warmth was. “Ms. Clarke, do you have a husband?” Anthony said, making you look at him surprised. “Sorry, I overstep.” Anthony walked towards the door leading to his study, what was wrong with him? 

“I don’t have a husband.” You chuckled as you saw his shoulders ease, walking his way. “It is rather hard to find one who understands my circumstance.” You expressed your displeasure, making him look at you directly. “It feels like most men have one goal, and that is to expand their lineage. I, however, want to take of the family I already have.” You smiled softly as you stood there an arm's length away...

“After my parents passed, I felt a heavy burden to take care of my three brothers. Oliver might seem like the older one but I’m older by three minutes.” You giggled before sighing heavily. 

“I’ve helped manage our household, managing our finances with Oliver, taught them many activities, helped with their studies, having to be there for the three of them.” You tear up just a little, never being able to dump your feelings. “I’d gladly be their support pillar, and to take care of them.” You smiled. 

“I love my brothers dearly, such as you do for your siblings, but mine are still immature with no guide in their life–I’d rather raise them to be gentlemen and make other young girls happy than to find love, I’ve made peace with it and if someone understood that, I’d gladly treasure them back.” You expressed truthfully. 

Anthony felt like he had overstepped greatly but he couldn’t help but feel for you. Making him look at you with understanding eyes. “How did your parents die?” He asked, regretting how your expression turned into hurt from remembering unpleasant memories. 

“Um, my Mother died during childbirth, having to be cut open to get Thomas out after Richard, she died bleeding while holding him. A week later my Father died of a broken heart, he couldn’t live without my mother.” You blinked some tears away before wiping them away. You both stood there in silence until you spoke again. “How did your father die?” You asked him. 

You could see him close his eyes and exhale heavily “He was stung by a bee.” He looked at you somewhat humbled. “To see my Father who was a great man, be killed by a small creature is humbling.” He sarcastically said before feeling comfortable with you. 

The air took a shift as he saw you studying him more deeply, then looking at him with a gaze that allured him towards you. It seemed like the only thing you two could do was convey feeling through your eyes. He leaned in closer, making you lean in as well. 

“What if I understood you?” You turn over inhaling at how close he was. You looked up at his eyes they looked at you desperately, and you looked down nervously. You flush as you see his chest through his sheer nightshirt. “I fear that I understand you far too well.” You looked so small under him, so flushed, so captivating. 

“What are you saying?” You looked up at him and god did he want to kiss your lips. He cursed himself for looking at you with those thoughts, and it didn’t help when your collarbone was visible, nor the line where your breast started. Your doe eyes looking at him so confused, as your lips parted to speak again. 

This time your mouth was left open as nothing came out of it, making him turn his head over lining your lips with his but not placing them on you. You felt confused, you wanted to set your lips on his but didn’t and it was eating you up alive. Your breath hitched as you felt his hands pull yours forward, it felt like he was pulling your heart making it pound. 

You felt right as he showed you the most vulnerable side of his you've seen, you allowed yourself to brush your lips against his slightly. Allowing him to feel the slight texture of your plum lips, making his breath hitch. You pulled away after gaining a reaction from him. “This isn’t right, I–” You shook your head feeling a heavy feeling in your heart. “Please..” Anthony felt his cold heart begging to be warmed up. 

“I-I shall bid you good night.” You turned away, breath trembling as you pulled your shawl over you tightly. You were glancing at him one more time before leaving the room hastily, feeling the cool air on your flushed skin. 

On your third day in Aubrey Hall, Violet was going to a ball. It was an annual ball apparently, and you were their honorable guests.  You told your brothers that they were to stay put with Hycinth and Gregory since they were still too young to be out during balls. 

Your ladymaid helped you slip on a royal blue dress made of silk that complemented your figure. The dress has beautiful detailing, little flowers that trail to the back of the dress, and a beautiful bow on the back that turns into a nice small train. With a nice halfway-up hairstyle and large curls flowing down, your mother's jewelry was the final touch. 

You thank the ladymaid as she smiles and begins to clean up the space, you leave the room to walk towards your brothers. You knock on his assigned guest room, which was partly shared with your little brothers, just a wall separating them. Richard whipped the door open and smiled big “Sister!” He engulfed you in a tight hug. 

“Richie! What are you doing here?” You laugh as he drags you inside, making Thomas run towards you and hug you as well, “We are helping Oliver get ready!” Thomas butted in before analyzing your dress. “Sister you look beautiful!” Thomas and Richard spit out in unison, making Oliver glance over. 

“I must say, Sister, the color rather suits you better than me,” Oliver muttered as he walked towards you, giving you his carvat indicating he was having trouble putting it on. “Nonsense, it looks fine on you.” You easily put his cravat on, making him huff. “My future sister better knows how to put these on or you’re going to be in lots of trouble.” You giggled as he gave you a look. 

“Are we getting another sister soon?” Richard said excitedly, Thomas right behind him with joyful eyes. “I’ve told you I don’t want to get married this season.”Oliver shrugged on his waistcoat that was matching your dress, butting it up.

“Please I have a feeling you’ll meet your future bride at this ball brother!” You say excitedly, making him pout and look at you. “What about our new brother? Are you going to get married soon?” Oliver asked.

You freeze, and the thought of you and Anthony yesterday night pops up in your mind. Making you flush red and shy, and this didn’t go unnoticed by Oliver. “Sister, have you made a match?” Oliver buttoned up the last of his buttons and rushed to your side. You clear your throat, looking away from the boys who cornered you. “I have not.” You walked away, and suddenly Thomas hugged your legs and Richard your waist, making you stop in your tracks. 

Oliver picked you up making you squeal at the sudden movements, then plopped you down on a chair. “Sister, do you like someone?” Thoma questioned you, making Oliver and Richard eye you. “Why are you asking me that?!” You asked a bit flushed. “We just you to be happy sister.” Richard expressed, making the other two boys nod. You looked at them sincerely, making them continue.

“We want you to be with a husband that will take care of you, just like you took care of us.” Richard told you, “You deserve a happy ending sister, you’ve done so much.” Oliver held a hand towards you, making you stand up. 

“But if I do so, you’ll be alone, I don’t wish for that.” You start to tear up, making the three boys offer you their handkerchiefs, you laugh lightly, and they offer the handkerchiefs you made for them. “We are big boys sister, either way, you won’t leave us forever right? You’ll visit us!” Thomas exclaimed making you breathe out. 

“I don’t think I can leave you all alone.” You told them, making them huff. Oliver finished up getting ready, and you ushered the boys into the nursery where the younger Bridgerton siblings sat. You meet Oliver at the top of the stairs, grabbing his arm as he guides you both to the bottom, where the elder Bridgerton siblings chat amongst themselves. 

Anthony broke his chatter with Daphne who kept talking, looking at you with your astonishment as you walked down the stairs. You two were talking to Benedict and Eloise as they broke apart from their family to speak to you. “Sister! Let me introduce you to our guest.” Anthony smiled as Daphne nodded along. 

“May I introduce you to Lord Clarke and his sister, Ms. Clarke.” Daphne smiled as she saw you crusty and your brother bow. “This is our sister Daphne, Duchess of Hastings.” Making your eyes twinkle. “A pleasure to meet you two, my brother talked about you two, all nice things of course.” She smiled. 

“Your Grace, it is an honor to meet you.” You give her a delighted smile, making her giggle. “Please I have every intention of becoming friends with you, let us walk around?” Daphne offered her hand, making you smile at your brother, and walked away with her. 

“You talked about us?” Oliver looked at Anthony who kept his gaze on you, then broke away to look at him. “Of course, I’m trying to find you a wife.” He told him, making him scoff. “You and my sister are forcing me to find a wife–it is like you two are meant to be with all this pushing.” Oliver walked into the ballroom. 

As the ball began, you walked around talking to some ladies who gladly let you join them. You were quite the social butterfly, making you tired of talking sometimes. You excused yourself, wanting a beverage and looking for your brother. You watched as he flushed over the words of a young lady, making you smile. 

“Brother, enjoy your night?” You butt in, making him look at you. “Ah sister, yes! Let me introduce you two, Miss. Blackwood my sister.” Oliver smiled at the young brunette, not going unnoticed by you. “Hello, a pleasure to meet you.” You smile, making the young girl flush. “Likewise, If you don’t mind me asking, are you twins?” She hid her face behind her fan, making you giggle. “Yes, we are a set of twins,” Oliver confirms. 

“You are most fortunate to have a sibling.” She said, talking about how she had no siblings at the moment. “Are you very fond of children, Miss Blackwood?” You question her and she nods. “I love children! Whenever I’m in the country, I usually play with my cousin's kids.” She smiled.

“Then you might enjoy our other brother's presence!” You told her, making her confused. “Ah you see, just like me and my sister are twins, we also have little twin brothers, their names are Richard and Thoma.” Oliver’s smile grew fond of the thought of them. “Oh, I’d love to meet them.” She giggled. 

Anthony glanced at you every time he heard you laugh, wanting nothing but to walk over there and talk to you. Although this persistent mama denied him of doing so, his mother saw his inpatients. “Anthony! I need to talk to you!” She ushered him away, grabbing his arm in the process. “Dearest why are you making that face?” Violet spoke. 

“You must seem content in front of these guests, and talking about guests why haven’t you asked our guests to dance?” She scolded him before he could talk, making him frown. “Mother I was about to ask Ms. Clarke to dance but I simply got caught up with some people.” He reassured her, making her nod. 

“Where is she?” Violet looked around, making him do so as well. Anthony excused himself with his mother, making his way toward Oliver who was still chatting with Ms. Blackwood. “Oliver, have you seen your sister?”Anthony excused himself for interrupting their conversation. Oliver looked at him a bit confused but replied “She is checking up on Thomas and Richard, I think.” Oliver told him. 

Anthony nodded and walked away, leaving the ball unnoticed and quietly. He walked up the stairs making his way to the nursery. Just as he turned the hallway, you walked out. In your hands a tired Richard, who you struggling to carry, and a very sleepy Thomas.  “Thomas love, please stay awake so we can change you for bed.” You ruffle his hair and readjust Richard on your hip. 

You gasp as you feel someone grab Richard from your arms, and it shocked you when it was The Viscount. “My lord, you don’t have to!” You say as if his action were too much. “Don’t be silly, please let me help you.” Anthony smiled while crouching down to carry Thomas as well. You looked a bit worried, and he smiled reassuring you. 

You both walk to their assigned guest room, and after some pushing and pulling you are finally able to tuck them in with the help of Anthony. You huff, backing up a little right beside Anthony, you looked over towards him and smiled. “Thank you once again, My lord.” You smiled kindly. 

Anthony looked at your adoring lips, making him want nothing but to put his lips on them. “Anthony.” He whispered, making you look up at him once again. “Pardon?” You say, making him instantly repeat himself. “Please, call me Anthony.” He said now facing you directly. “Ms. Clarke, I’ll be honest with you–

I have nothing but respect for you.” He said looking at you sincerely, making you straighten up. “Yesterday night, I meant what I said–I understand you very well.” He expressed, resulting in your breath hitching. “I understand your so felt burden of taking care of your sibling and to be frank, I honestly relate my problems so much to yours,” Anthony whispered lightly, not wanting to wake up the children. 

You looked up at him in amazement, making him open his mouth but no words came out. Your heart was palpitating so hard, that you felt like a character who was about to be confessed to. Anthony straightened his posture, as he cleared his throat. “To be honest, I fell deeply in love with your motherly intuition, I don’t know how to explain it but my heart eases up when you take care of your sibling so easily,” Anthony confessed, making him flush red.

“I must say it made me love you differently now, and– god it’s so unlike me, but I fell in love in just three nights.” He became once again flush in color. 

You too were flushed with red, making you put a hand on your chest, feeling it–actually, it was beating so hard you swear you could hear it. “Anthony, I, well, I don’t know how to feel.” You look at him, then away.

“When my brother accepted the invitation, I thought of them having the necessary time off, I did not come here for my benefit.” You told him. “Though I am happy, I ended up getting something.” As you utter the last syllables of your sentence, Anthony looks at you. 

“W-What I meant, I feel the same way, Anthony, I do hope you can court me the right way, once I get back to Mayfair.” You smiled fondly as you grabbed his arm. Making him nod slowly “It would be an honor to.” Anthony smiled, feeling somewhat relieved that his feelings were reciprocated. 

As the two walk back down, arms linked, the whole Ton looks at the pair in bewilderment. However, Anthony didn’t care, offering his hand to you and a gentle smile. “May I have this dance, Ms. Clarke?” He smiled, making you giggled and accept his advance. “Of course, My lord.” Then the two of you dance the night away.

At the end of the night, you told your brother you retiring to bed, he nodded and you excused yourself. Your heels bore into your heel and you sighed at the sight of your guest room door. As you passed the library that held the memory of you and Anthony, you can’t help but smile. Entering the room with your heels in hand, you wander the bookshelf, ah there it was, Pride and Prejudice. 

You smile at the light conversation you made between Anthony about the book. You place the hardcover book back before walking out the door, only to find the man you had semi-confessed your love to at the end of the hall, this time he was retiring to bed. 

You two smile as you connect once again, this time he walks you to your guest room. That night you had kissed him goodnight on his cheek, making him still as a statue, but quickly snapping out of it as he heard your brother making him wau towards you two. 

The moment felt pure and delightful, you tucked yourself into bed and after tossing and turning, you’d admit, you were far too happy about what just had happened. Tonight felt like a fever dream, and it was something you nor Anthony never wanted to forget. 

Anthony laid in bed as an uttered mess, as his nightshirt was visibly discarded as he laid shirtless. Simply too hot, and was practically melting because of the action you made on him. He would lay there, dragging his fingertips on his cheek. He knew in the morning you would be gone, already on your way home, and he would be mourning, trying to hold on to the memories of your lips. 

God, he is so lovesick. 

So lovesick, he simply started courting you the week you had just come back from Aubrey Hall, with of course the blessing of your three younger brothers.

[frost-queen]

Tempting fate (Reader!Featherington x Colin Bridgerton)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

The night was out. Chilled but rather comforting on the skin. You were outside, waiting as your sister had already taken the carriage in a haste. Not a few moments ago she had a little encounter with Colin Bridgerton. One that you witnessed from afar. You could tell by your sister’s expression that she was displeased. Distressed to say the least. Once again had Colin Bridgerton said something to upset your sister. It was getting out of hand and you hated him for it. Hating how he toggled with your sister’s feelings.

They had been friends for a while now, but your sister desired more. He was the only good gentleman that gave her attention during the balls. Even if it was just a little. It wasn’t his first slip, but this time you clearly had enough of him. Now that your sister had run off with the carriage, you were left to return home on your own. Waiting for the carriage to return to the estate of this night’s ball would take awfully long.

Rubbing your arms gently, you hesitantly decided what to do. Go or stay? Slightly turning your head you noticed in the corner of your eye a figure approach. Once you fully got a glimpse of him, you rolled your eyes with annoyance. – “Y/n.” – Colin said approaching you. – “Good night Mr. Bridgerton.” – you answered coldly turning your posture away from him. – “Do you not need a chaperone?” – he asked making you stop in your way. With a deep sigh, trying to temper your annoyance down, you turned back to him.

“Certainly not from you.” – you answered with a forced smile. He stared confused at you. Trying to process the meaning of your words. He slightly came closer to you. – “Did…did I say something to offend you?” – he questioned. You scoffed making him furrow his brows dumbfound. Colin and you hadn’t been the closest, yet he considered himself acquainted with you through your sister. – “To my sister you did!” – you bit back finding his act of stupidity tiring.

“Pen?” – Colin. – “I…I don’t understand.” – he answered. – “Why do you minimize my sister?” – you asked him boldly. Colin was taken back by your reply, looking surprised at you. – “Minimize… no, Y/n… I…I wrote to your sister everyday this summer with little reply.” – he said with a charming smile. You smiled in return as Colin flourished from seeing you smile. Yet your smile had other intensions. – “Oh, yes I know all about the letters you wrote her. Letting her know about all your adventures. I am well aware of that Colin!” – you pressured on.

Colin chuckled nervously. – “Are… are you going to make me say it out loud?” – he responded feeling a bit foolish. You quirked your eyebrow up unintrigued.  – “I missed her.” – he told you. You busted out in a laugh. – “You miss her?” – you positioned yourself stronger, fiercer to go up against your sister’s good friend. – “You miss her, but you would never court her is that correct?”

“Y/n I…” – Colin started finally losing a bit of his  boyish foolishness towards you. – “I overheard you!” – you called out. – “At my mama’s ball last season… telling everyone you would never ever court Penelope Featherington.” – You felt yourself get a bit emotional, defending your sister against her best friend. Against the one she loved. Some voices approached as it drew Colin’s attention briefly away from you. – “Bridgerton.” – one of them greeted as they passed. Colin bowed his head to them before leaning a bit closer to you. Lowering his voice he spoke – “Perhaps we should go where there’s somewhere private?” – he suggested.

“Because I embarrass you?” – you said loud enough for anyone walking around to hear. – “My sister can change her entire wardrobe and gain confidence but that would never take away that she is the laughingstock of the ton.” – you outed in anger. – “My sister doesn’t deserve a cruel man like yourself in her life.” – you picked up the hem of your dress. – “Good night Sir!” -  you saluted coldly at him before taking off in the night. Colin watched you leave with a certain guilt eating at him.

Two days later you were with your sisters and mama at a garden event. Your sisters sitting down in a chair underneath a tent, waving themselves some cool. Your mother was chatting with some of the other mother’s. You had no idea where Penelope was. You on the other hand were playing battledores and shuttlecock’s with some of the other season’s participants.

You stood on one side with a girl you were quite familiar with. On the other side were two gentleman. The shuttlecock went high up in the air as the boys knocked it to each other. You were waiting for the shuttlecock to come your way to hit it to her and then back to the boys without it touching the ground.

Somehow your attention got drawn away from the heavens. Seeing Colin Bridgerton clearly look for someone not far from you. – “Miss Y/n!” – one of the men called out as the shuttlecock went your way. Your attention was back as you calculated the moment your battledore hit the shuttlecock. The shuttlecock went up in the air as you thought back of annoying Colin.

The shuttlecock came down once more as you needed to pass it to your companion. Yet you let the shuttlecock come lower, batting it away with your battledore towards Colin. You watched as it hit him in the head. The shuttlecock fell in his hand as he looked down at it confusingly. Rubbing his sore head with the other one. The girl at your side pointed firmly at Colin to go and fetch it. You sighed loud going over to him. The moment Colin noticed you approach, he dropped to a bow. – “My shuttlecock.” – you said offering your hand for him to lay it in.

 “You hit me.” – Colin responded. – “Must have slipped.” – you responded sarcastic. Colin was all but amused. – “Now my shuttlecock.” – you insisted upon. Colin was about to give it to you till he changed his mind last moment. He had taken a deep breath, moving the shuttlecock behind his back. – “I’ll give it back if you allow me to apologise first.” – he started throwing a charming smile at you. – “You should apologise to my sister.” – you made clear not wanting an apology from him.

Colin tensed his jaw, as he had hoped for another outcome. – “I…Y/n.” – he sighed out. – “I don’t require your useless apology. My sister needs to be apologized to.” – you told him clearly. Colin sighed loud getting worked up by your attitude towards him. – “Fine! If you don’t accept my apology, you might not even deserve it.” – he snapped back. – “I don’t even want it!” – you fired back. – “Fine!” – he finished. – “Fine!” – you repeated loud.

“Good luck getting this back than!” – he showed you the shuttlecock again. You slapped your hand at it as Colin had pulled it away in time. – “Give it back!” – you called out to him, getting some attention from bystanders. – “You don’t deserve this.” – he mocked, taunting you by showing you the shuttlecock just out of reach. You groaned annoyed as he moved it behind his back. You knocked into him full force to reach for it behind his back. A bit too forceful perhaps?

Colin stumbled backwards as you fell with him. With a loud oof fell you on him. Now having the full attention of those around you. You were very much aware of the staring eyes. You pushed yourself hard off him. He felt the air get sucked out of his lungs. – “Eat it!” – you cursed at him storming off. Colin sat up, swallowing nervously at the sudden attention. Getting up, he saw Penelope look his way. He shamefully turned his head away, getting up and taking his leave.

**

Lights were flickering in the warmth of the room. Music filled the room. Dancers were taking in the centre of the room. You stood by the side with your two other sisters and mama. Your gaze went across the room. When your eyes fell upon Colin, you glared at him. He glared back at you, turning his head proudly away. You stubbornly looked away as well. Looking down, you fidgeted on your dress. Somehow it pained you to see him act so coldly towards you.

You didn’t intend on doing so but the more time you spend with Colin, arguing and bickering, the more you felt drawn to him. You shouldn’t be falling for him, but yet you were. Some novels say that you grow more attracted to those things you hate the most with frequency. This might be the case for Mr. Bridgerton and you. Mama nudged you hard making you lift your chin back up. She gestured to you, to smile so you could attract more eligible men.

Not being in the mood for her interfering, you took off. Blending through the crowd to escape her. Pushing yourself through the crowd. Coming to a brief stop, you came face to face with your sister Penelope. Your eyes widened briefly before you rushed off to the hallway to avoid her. Penelope blended with the crowd, lowering her head when she saw Colin near. He was clearly in pursuit of someone.

Almost panting he disappeared through the same door you had left moments ago. It made Penelope think doubtfully. You exhaled loud setting your hands on the desk from the room you had run off to. Clutching your heart, you felt it beat faster. Faster then it normally did. Was this Colin’s doing? Shaking your head you didn’t want to think about him. It was wrong to think of his that way. Your sister was madly in love with him. You couldn’t… not for the sake of her. – “Y/n.” – you jumped back startled at the hearing of your voice.

Colin had entered the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. You rounded the desk, creating more distance between you and him. – “Shouldn’t you dance with my sister.” – you sarcastically suggested to him. He exhaled soft, practically done with your flight modus. Done with how you kept pushing yourself away and shoving your sister to the front. – “Y/n.” – Colin started as you didn’t want to hear it. – “You keep doing it Colin. You keep minimizing my sister.” – you told him.

“Ignoring every hint she throws at you, and you too blind to see it. I hate how you ridicule my sister’s feelings towards you. She is not some object.” – you ranted out as Colin came nearer, going round the desk to reach you. – “You tell her you miss her, but you won’t court her. Why?” – you asked desperate. – “I can’t court her.” – he answered standing face to face with you.

“Why?” – you repeated wanting to have a clear answer. Colin felt himself be swept up by the heated moment. – “I just can’t.” – he responded loudly feeling his hands tremble to get a hold on you. – “Answer me. Clearly!” – you called out getting up in his face. – “Because I want you!” – Colin shouted back, practically panting from the tension released inside of him. Your eyes widened.

Colin grabbed for your face. The hell with being a gentleman. The hell with your reputation and his. In this moment he just wanted you. He forced himself forwards, pressing his lips on yours. Your gaze widened more at his touch. His lips gently brushing against yours as you fell under his spell. Giving in to the sensation as it was beyond this world.

Butterflies flattering around inside till they suddenly dropped with realisation. Guilt. You pushed Colin off, breaking off the kiss. Colin blinked confused at you breaking it off. Stunned you held your hand before your mouth. As if something was stolen from your lips. A kiss perhaps? – “My sister…” – you whispered out knowing just how much she loved him. – “Y/n…” – Colin said wanting to approach you.

“No!” – you called out clear, taking a step back. – “I…I can’t do this…” – you told him running around the desk. Throwing the door open and taking your leave. Colin went around the desk as well, standing in the door opening. One last attempt to call out to you, but you were out of reach.

Exhaling deep, he lowered his head, heart broken at the loss of touch. He never courted Penelope but he found himself falling for you. Her sister. The sister that yelled at him. That wasn’t afraid to speak back even when some might find it out of turn. He liked how sincere you were, but also caring and free. A bright personality when one got to know you, truly know you.

Penelope bit the sour apple down. A single tear fell down her cheek, yet her face stood bitter. Bitter with hatred for what she had just seen. Her own sister fleeing a room with Colin Bridgerton showing himself in the door opening. It was clear to anyone that you had been in there privately with him.

Penelope made her way to the carriage. Rushing to get home. In the carriage she pulled out a piece of parchment from her reticule. The carriage hobbled yet she maintained balance. Taking out a pencil, she set it down on the parchment.

Dearest gentile reader…

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  [read part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9 & part 10]

[ladysharmaa]

Kate mini version

Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma x sis!reader

summary: Kate's sister is sent to live with Kate and Anthony by her mother who had to travel to India and couldn't take her. Feeling that she was unwanted and intruding on the Bridgerton couple's lives, Y/n starts acting distant. When Anthony and Kate realize this, they try to make Y/n see how much she is loved by everyone

requested: yes

part 1 part 2 part 3

Y/n was sitting in her carriage for 5 minutes, not having the courage to open the door. She was outside the Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton mansion, in other words her sister and her brother-in-law. Her hands trembled in her lap as she took a deep breath to try to calm her anxiety and her irregular heartbeat.

Her mother Mary had to travel to India and decided to not let her youngest go with her. As Y/n was still too young to consider it safe to keep her at home alone, even with maids, Mary asked Anthony and Kate to welcome her into their home.

Ever since Mary's older daughter found a husband and went to live a new life, Y/n felt that her relationship with her mother got worse.

The house was quieter, both of them no longer had the usual company of the other sisters. It made Y/n realize how she couldn’t hold a conversation with Mary, at least not like Kate and Edwina. It also didn't help that Y/n was extremely similar to their father, who had already died. It seemed like Mary was grieving again for her late lover, and Y/n was the cause of it.

So, like a snowball effect, Y/n couldn't help but think that Kate and Anthony were just taking her in out of obligation, since they were family, but that she was actually considered a burden for them.

"Would you like for me to open the door, Miss?" the maid who accompanied her asked with a gentle smile.

"There is no need for that, Anne. Thank you." she replied, snapping out of her thoughts.

With a last deep breath, Y/n opened the door just as Anthony and Kate were leaving the house. As soon as she saw them, Y/n bowed slightly. When she lifted her head again she found the two of them with a smile directed at her. But even so, she had doubts, after all, in this society, everyone had learned to master the fake polite smile. Kate hurried to her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Y/n! It's so nice to have you here. The house can get so quiet when the Viscount is working. It'll be great to have our conversations like we had before." Kate whispered in her ear, Y/n only responding with a small smile.

Anthony approached the younger Sharma to greet her, Y/n bowing again. "Lord Bridgerton, thank you for your hospitality. It was very kind of you."

"By all means, Miss Y/n, you are family. Now let's come inside, Phillip can bring your belongings to your room." Anthony said, linking his arm with his wife and starting to head towards the room where the maids were setting the table for the tea.

Y/n followed behind the couple, her steps cautious. She looked at the huge mansion and sighed, her fears continuously running through her mind. This was going to be a very long month.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was still quite early, the sun's rays barely illuminating the mansion. However, Y/n was already awake and ready for the day. She went down to the kitchen, wanting to help the cooks and maids. It was the least she could do, since now they were cooking for one more person and the day before they had brought her a rather late meal since she didn't eat all of dinner.

The maids were surprised to see the youngest Sharma in the kitchen, tying an apron around her waist. However, with a lot of resistance on Y/n's part, they let the girl help. Y/n had a lot of fun, the maids had a good relationship with each other, throwing in some jokes from time to time that made her laugh.

Y/n was placing the last dish on the table. She had to admit that everything looked great. The food varied from fruit to various cakes and breads. Just in time, Anthony entered the kitchen, stopping in surprise when he saw Y/n there.

"Miss Sharma, I wasn't expecting you to be awake already. It's quite early."

"I'm a morning person, Lord Bridgerton." Y/n chuckled, running her hands down her dress nervously. She then pointed to the table, desperate not to remain in an awkward silence. "Breakfast is ready."

"I see that, everything looks great." he sat at the end of the table. Y/n remained standing, looking around, causing Anthony to hesitate before asking, "Aren't you going to sit down to eat too?"

"Oh! I already ate with the maids, thank you. Hm, is my sister awake?"

Anthony clears his throat, looking down. A frown appeared on Y/n's face when she saw the man's cheeks start to turn pink. "Your sister is still sleeping. She was not feeling well last night so she couldn't sleep much."

"Very well..." The girl nodded slowly. "I shall bring her tea when she wakes up. Until then, I was hoping I could go on for a walk in the gardens? Please?"

"Of course, Y/n, you don't have to ask." Anthony nodded, wiping his mouth with a napkin after drinking some orange juice. "Do you want me to ask a maid to go with you and keep you company?"

"No, it's okay, I prefer to go alone."

"No problem. In the afternoon we should go to my mother's house to play pall-mall. It would be lovely if you decided to join us."

"Oh, I'm not sure yet. I wouldn't want to interrupt your family time." Y/n looked away so as not to show the sadness she felt.

She had never even met Anthony's family properly, only meeting them briefly at the couple's wedding. Either way, with all the stories she'd heard from Kate, she doubted she'd be able to fit into the family dynamic. She was afraid that Anthony was only extending the invitation to her out of obligation to now be living with them, after all, she had never been invited even when her two sisters were.

However, with all these thoughts, the girl did not see the frown that appeared on her sister's husband's face. What do you mean she didn't want to interrupt family time when it was part of it?

Although his family never spent much time with Y/n, it was just because since she was younger, they thought she would feel more comfortable with her mother instead of being dragged around with Edwina and Kate to every event. She had lost her father and moved countries, they didn't want to overwhelm her. However, Anthony's siblings really wanted to meet her, especially Francesca and Hyacinth, who wanted to have a new friend.

"Y/n, you are family. My siblings would love to spend more time with you, especially my sisters." Anthony finally said.

"I will think about it." Y/n offered him a small smile out of politeness. "I will be heading to the gardens. Let me know if you need me. Excuse me, Lord Bridgerton."

When Y/n finally left the dining room, Anthony rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. He really needed to talk to his wife about this.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Y/n was lying down on the grass, enjoying the sun's rays that warmed her skin, when Kate found her. After Anthony told her about what happened at breakfast, Kate knew there was something wrong with her younger sister.

Anthony's wife lay down beside Y/n, alerting her to her presence. Y/n lifted her head, offering her sister a small smile. "Are you feeling better?"

"Pardon?" Kate frowned, not understanding the question. Her mouth opened in realization as she remembered what Anthony had told her with a light blush. "Oh, yes, I'm fine. Nothing that a few more hours of sleep couldn't solve."

"I'm glad." Y/n closed her eyes again, enjoying the sunny day.

"Are you enjoying your time here? Lord Bridgerton told me that you cooked with the maids today." Kate said after a few moments of silence.

"Yes, they were lovely. I wanted to help."

"If you had a good time then there's no problem. But you know you don't need to get up early to cook for us. I want you to have fun and be comfortable while you're here."

Y/n remained silent. Her hand started messing with the grass, a way to distract herself. "I know." she replied with a small voice.

"Do you?" the elder Sharma raised her eyebrows teasingly.

But Y/n remained silent, a small frown forming on her face as she thought about what Kate said. In turn, Kate felt her heart tighten with guilt. As she looked at her little sister, she remembered when she was a baby and made exactly the same face when she thought. A sigh escaped her lips, missing having Y/n's company all day.

The three Sharma sisters used to spend every waking moment together, strolling around the garden or simply relaxing in silence. But now, with Kate married and Edwina being courted by the prince, they didn't think about how it would affect Y/n.

"Tell me what is really wrong." Kate asked with sad eyes. Y/n sat down, opening her mouth to start speaking, but nothing came out. "Y/n, I'm sorry I haven't spent much time with you. But I love you, and I want you to be comfortable being here with me and Anthony."

"You didn't just let me stay out of obligation?" the younger sister asked shyly, refusing to look into Kate's eyes, who had also sat up and was trying to lift Y/n's chin with her hand.

"No! In fact, I was the one who asked mother to let you stay with me instead of considering you going with her to India. We wanted you here. I miss seeing my little sister every day. It can get lonely when Anthony works, and I love having you here."

"Really? But when you're bored, don't you visit Lord Bridgerton's siblings?"

"Yes, but no one can replace you. And I'm always talking about you to them, from all the stories I've told, I think they like you more than me!" Kate laughed, her smile widening when Y/n also chuckled. "I'm sure they would be delighted for you to go with us to play pall-mall."

"Hmm, I'm not sure. What if they don't like me?"

"Oh!" Anthony's wife gasped as if it was the most ridiculous idea. "That's impossible! With your heart and your kindness, they would be fools to not like you!"

"I really missed you." Y/n admitted, resting her head on Kate's shoulder.

"Me too. And after mother comes back, our house is still open. You can come here whenever you wish."

"Thank you, Kate. I'm glad you found Anthony, you seem very happy."

"I am happy." Kate assured her. "And just because I am married now, nothing changes between us. You are still my priority."

"Thank you. And I believe a game of pall-mall is not the worst thing in the world. I will join you." the younger girl nodded with a smile, gaining confidence from her sister's words.

"Great! Then you'll also get to see Lord Bridgerton be a sore loser when I win."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

She was already starting to regret her decision when she saw Anthony's family in the garden, already bickering with each other. She and her sisters were competitive, but not at this level.

"Dear siblings, if you could please just listen to me first." Anthony caught their attention with a sarcastic smile. "This is Miss Y/n, Kate's younger sister. She will be joining us today."

"Another Sharma? We are going to lose!" the younger boy, who Y/n assumed was Gregory, said.

Two other girls came to her, introducing themselves as Francesca and Hyacinth, Anthony's younger sisters. As they excitedly talked, Y/n's nerves began to disappear. Kate watched them closely, relaxing when she noticed that her sister was smiling, looking happy to be making friends. Her husband joined her, letting her lean against him and kissing her cheek.

"I told you it was going to be okay."

"Yeah, I know. But I was so sad that she thought we didn't want her here with us. It's my fault." Kate whispered sadly, feeling Anthony put his arm around her waist in comfort.

"It's not your fault, my love. We have to make her feel welcome, but for now, I think she's having fun." Noticing that Kate still wasn't convinced, he added. "What if the three of us went for a horse ride tomorrow? You once told me that Y/n always wanted to ride a horse, but she never got to learn since your father died. What if I taught her?"

"You would do that?" his wife smiled in delight. "Oh, Anthony, thank you. I'm sure she would love that."

"Anything for my wife and her little sister." Anthony smiled, giving her a chaste kiss on the lips. "I love you."

"Are you being this lovely just so I won't be so competitive in the game?" she laughed teasingly. "Forget it! Prepare to lose, my dear husband."

Kate turned her back on him, going to the others so they could start the game. Anthony enjoyed the view of his wife, wondering how he got so lucky. "I love my life."

While they were playing, Eloise told Y/n how women deserved to go to college and not live just for their husbands. Benedict appeared later, declaring that he was going to save her from her sister's obsessions, making Y/n hide a giggle behind her hand. In turn, he and Collin were extremely funny, especially when Anthony made a bad move and Kate beat him.

Y/n also had time to meet Daphne's son, who seemed to like her and demanded with a cry that she pick him up. She didn't complain, the baby was too cute to refuse anything.

She and her two new friends got tired of playing, preferring to sit under the shade with the baby and play a little with him. Meanwhile, they talked about everything and got to know more about each other. They only realized how much time had passed when Lady Violet Bridgerton called them to drink and eat something.

By late afternoon, Y/n was exhausted but happy. Her family was more complete, and she loved being part of its dynamic.

[tulipatheticee]

Hi! I had an idea of Eloise x fem reader, reader being Queen Charlotte’s daughter. They get caught together, and readers mother suggests marriage. With that Eloise and reader start the acceptance of the same sex love/marriage.

love story e.b

eloise bridgerton x queen charlottes daughter! reader

synopsis; In the heart of Regency London, Princess Y/N, daughter of Queen Charlotte, and Eloise Bridgerton find themselves entangled in a clandestine romance amidst the glittering balls and gossip of high society. Their love defies conventions and faces scrutiny, ultimately prompting Queen Charlotte to propose a marriage that could change society's perception of same-sex love forever.

word count; 5.3k

master list

a/n; i went a little ham on this one, i was not joking when i said wlw unlocks something inside of me

as always, kinda proof read, kinda not :p

So I sneak out to the garden to see you

We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew

So close your eyes

Escape this town for a little while, oh oh

In the bustling midst of London’s social season, Queen Charlotte's daughter, Princess y/n, found herself at the centre of attention. Raised amidst the pomp and protocol of high society, she was no stranger to the expectations placed upon her. Attending debutante events was simply another facet of her role as the queen's daughter—a duty performed with grace and an impeccably polished facade.

It was at one such event, a gathering of debutantes adorned in their finest, where y/n first noticed her. Eloise Bridgerton, amidst the sea of hopefuls vying for attention, stood out not just for her striking beauty but for an air of defiance that seemed to hover around her like an invisible shield. Eloise, with her quick wit and sharp tongue, had garnered a reputation as the most outspoken and unconventional of the Bridgerton siblings—a title she wore proudly, much to her mother Violet's simultaneous exasperation and admiration.

From across the room, y/n observed as Eloise engaged in animated conversation with other debutantes. There was a sparkle in her eye and a hint of mischief in her smile that drew y/n's attention irresistibly. Eloise's laughter, free and unbridled, cut through the polite chatter of the event like a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room. For a moment, y/n found herself captivated, her gaze lingering longer than was strictly polite.

Meanwhile, Eloise, amidst the whirl of introductions and compliments, couldn't help but notice the queen's daughter. Elegant and composed, y/n exuded a quiet confidence that commanded attention without demanding it. Unlike the other debutantes who fluttered around Eloise, y/n stood apart, observing with an intensity that hinted at a keen intellect beneath her composed exterior.

Their eyes met briefly across the room—a fleeting moment charged with unspoken curiosity and intrigue. It was a simple exchange, unnoticed by the swirling crowd around them but leaving an indelible impression on both Eloise and y/n. In that brief encounter, something stirred, a silent recognition that hinted at possibilities yet unexplored.

The grand presentation at the Palace was a spectacle to behold. The ballroom was adorned with glittering chandeliers and opulent decorations, filled with the crème de la crème of London society. Eloise stood in line, fidgeting with her gloves as she prepared to be introduced. Her mother gave her a reassuring smile.

“Stand tall, Eloise,” Violet whispered. “This is your moment.”

As Eloise stepped forward, she caught a clearer sight of Princess Y/N, standing beside her mother. Their eyes met once again across the room, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Y/N’s gaze was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the intimidating grandeur of the palace. Eloise felt an inexplicable pull towards her, something she couldn’t quite understand.

Just as Eloise was about to be presented, the attention of the room shifted abruptly. The queens guards charging through the doors, whispers of “Lady Whistledown '' spread like wildfire, next thing you know, the queen is declaring she's seen enough and everyone is dismissed and Eloise found herself relieved of the spotlight as gossip overtook the ceremony. The mysterious writer had once again stolen the show, and Eloise couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the diversion.

'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter

And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet"

But you were everything to me

I was beggin' you, "Please don't go, " and I said

The opulent ballroom of Lady Danbury's estate shimmered with the flicker of candlelight and the murmur of polite conversation. Eloise Bridgerton, dressed in an exquisite gown of deep emerald silk that Lady Danbury had insisted upon, moved gracefully amidst the crowd, her gaze sweeping over the assembly of London's elite.

The event was a dazzling affair, attended by the highest echelons of society, each guest meticulously adorned in their finest attire. Yet amidst the glittering array of guests, Eloise's eyes sought out a familiar figure—Princess y/n, who stood with Queen Charlotte, radiating an air of quiet elegance that set her apart from the throng of debutantes.

Eloise couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation in her chest as she made her way towards y/n, navigating the maze of guests with practiced ease. Her heart raced with a mixture of nerves and excitement, unsure of how their conversation at Queen Charlotte's debutante event would influence their interaction tonight.

Meanwhile, y/n observed the revelry with a regal composure, her gaze occasionally drifting towards Eloise amidst the swirl of dancers and the lilting strains of the orchestra. The princess was acutely aware of the scrutiny she faced as Queen Charlotte’s daughter—the expectations of duty and decorum that shadowed her every move. Yet amidst the splendour of the ballroom, y/n found herself drawn to Eloise’s spirited presence and unguarded authenticity. 

Violet Bridgerton, determined to secure another diamond among her brood, guided Eloise through the throng of guests towards the queen and y/n. Eloise, begrudgingly adorned in an elegant gown befitting her station, maintained a facade of polite disinterest as Violet introduced her to the queen and her daughter.

"Your Majestys, may I present my daughter, Eloise Bridgerton," Violet announced with practised grace.

Y/n, acknowledging the introduction with a nod, offered a polite smile that barely concealed her curiosity. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Bridgerton," she greeted eloquently, her voice carrying a warmth that belied her royal stature.

Eloise, though outwardly composed, felt a rush of nerves mingled with an unexpected flutter of excitement. She had anticipated the formality of the introduction, yet y/n's presence seemed to alter the air around her, making her acutely aware of every gesture and fleeting expression.

"Likewise, Your Highness," Eloise replied with a hint of her trademark wit, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Though I must admit, I am more accustomed to lively debates than royal audiences."

Y/n's smile widened subtly, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "I look forward to those debates, Miss Bridgerton," she replied in kind, a gentle challenge underlying her words.

The exchange, though brief, left an impression on both women. For Eloise, accustomed to the constraints of societal expectations, y/n represented a refreshing departure—an enigma wrapped in regal poise and quiet strength. And for y/n, intrigued by Eloise's spirited demeanor and quick intellect, the encounter ignited a curiosity that lingered long after the ball had ended.

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

As the evening progressed, Eloise and y/n’s paths collided again near the elaborate dessert table adorned with crystal bowls of sugared fruits and delicate pastries. Eloise, emboldened by Lady Danbury’s encouraging nod from across the room, approached y/n with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, nerves tingling beneath her skin.

“Your Highness,” Eloise greeted warmly, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness despite her best efforts to appear composed.

y/n turned towards Eloise with a gracious smile, her eyes alight with genuine interest. “Miss Bridgerton,” y/n replied with a nod of acknowledgment, noting the subtle tension in Eloise’s stance.

Their conversation flowed with the ease of familiarity yet tinged with the underlying currents of unspoken desire and mutual intrigue. They exchanged pleasantries about the music, the decorations, and the latest society gossip, each word carrying a weight of unspoken meaning that hung between them like an invisible thread.

Eloise, ever the conversationalist, couldn’t resist steering the discussion towards a topic that had intrigued her since their first meeting. “Your Highness, I must admit, I found your observations on the latest literary sensation quite captivating,” she remarked, her tone light yet tinged with curiosity.

y/n chuckled softly, appreciating Eloise’s intellect and the genuine interest she showed in their previous conversation. “Ah, but Miss Bridgerton, I fear my views on literature may not always align with conventional wisdom,” y/n replied with a playful glint in her eyes.

Eloise leaned in slightly, her gaze locking with y/n’s in a moment of shared understanding. “Isn’t that the beauty of literature, Your Highness? It allows us to explore different perspectives and challenge our own beliefs,” she countered, her voice laced with a mixture of admiration and genuine curiosity.

Their banter continued late into the night, punctuated by shared laughter and stolen glances that hinted at a connection deeper than mere friendship. For Eloise, y/n represented a kindred spirit—a beacon of hope amidst the rigid expectations of London society. She found herself drawn to y/n’s quiet strength and unwavering authenticity, traits that resonated deeply with Eloise’s own aspirations and struggles.

In those stolen moments between dances, y/n found herself captivated by Eloise’s infectious enthusiasm and fierce determination. She admired Eloise’s courage to challenge societal norms and speak her mind, qualities that set her apart from the polished facades of London’s debutantes.

As the evening drew to a close, Eloise reluctantly bid y/n farewell with a promise to meet again soon. Their parting left y/n with a lingering warmth in her heart—a feeling that defied the constraints of duty and hinted at the possibility of something more.

Romeo, save me, they're tryna tell me how to feel

This love is difficult, but it's real

Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

Eloise and y/n found themselves entangled in a web of conflicting emotions and societal expectations. Despite the undeniable chemistry that sparked between them at Lady Danbury's grand ball, both struggled to come to terms with their growing attraction.

In the days that followed the ball, Eloise couldn't shake the memory of y/n's enchanting smile and the way her eyes lit up with intelligence and charm. She found herself stealing glances at y/n across crowded ballrooms, each stolen glance fueling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Meanwhile, y/n wrestled with her own tumultuous emotions. As Queen Charlotte's daughter, she was keenly aware of the scrutiny her actions faced. The prospect of scandal and disgrace haunted her thoughts, casting a shadow over her budding friendship with Eloise.

Their paths crossed again at another glittering social event, where Violet Bridgerton, ever the matchmaker, introduced Eloise to y/n in hopes of sparking a connection. Eloise's heart raced as she exchanged pleasantries with y/n, their conversation laced with a subtle undercurrent of tension and curiosity.

Later that evening, as they found themselves alone in a quiet corner of the ballroom, y/n couldn't help but voice her uncertainties. "Miss Bridgerton, do you ever feel... conflicted?" she asked tentatively, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Eloise hesitated, her mind racing with unspoken thoughts. "I... I suppose I do," she admitted softly, her gaze searching y/n's face for any sign of understanding. "This world we live in—it's so... unforgiving."

y/n nodded in silent agreement, her fingers nervously toying with the fabric of her gown. "Sometimes I wonder if... if we're meant to feel this way," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eloise reached out, her touch gentle yet reassuring. "I don't have all the answers, Princess," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I know that when I'm with you, everything feels... different."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Lady Danbury, who swept y/n away to greet other guests. Eloise watched as Lady Danbury whisked y/n away, her heart sinking with each step that carried them farther apart. Alone in the bustling ballroom, she found herself drawn to a quiet alcove, seeking refuge from the swirl of conversations and glittering chandeliers.

Leaning against a draped curtain, Eloise closed her eyes and let out a quiet sigh. Thoughts of y/n consumed her mind, their unfinished conversation lingering like an unspoken promise in the air.

She traced the intricate pattern of her gown absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting back to y/n's earnest question. Do you ever feel... conflicted? And back to her own comment before the conversation ended, when I'm with you, everything feels... different. How would y/n have responded to that? Did she feel the same way, or was Eloise's heart leading her down a path fraught with uncertainty?

The memory of y/n's smile flickered in her mind—the way it lit up the room, reaching out to Eloise like a beacon in the darkness of societal expectations. They had danced around the edges of something profound, something that could alter the course of their lives forever.

Lost in her reverie, Eloise was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned to find Benedict Bridgerton, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Sister, are you all right?" he asked gently, his voice breaking through her thoughts.

Eloise managed a faint smile, though her heart still raced with unanswered questions. "I'm fine, Benedict," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Just... lost in thought."

Benedict studied her for a moment, his gaze searching. "Is it about the Princess?" he ventured cautiously, knowing his sister well enough to sense when something weighed heavily on her mind.

Eloise nodded slowly, unable to suppress a sigh. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "We were... talking. About feelings, I suppose."

Benedict arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Feelings?" he echoed, prompting Eloise to elaborate.

"I told her... how I feel when I'm with her," Eloise confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "But then Lady Danbury interrupted us, and I never got to find out how she feels."

Understanding dawned in Benedict's eyes as he took in Eloise's words. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Eloise, you know what they say about the young Princess," he said gently. "She's smart, perceptive. She'll understand."

Eloise managed a weak smile, grateful for her brother's reassurance. "I hope so," she murmured, her thoughts still lingering on y/n's last words to her.

As the ballroom bustled around them, Benedict offered his arm to Eloise. "Shall we join the others?" he suggested, his tone lightening with an attempt to lift her spirits.

Eloise nodded, drawing a deep breath to steady herself. "Yes, let's," she agreed, linking her arm with Benedict's. Together, they returned to the lively gathering, though Eloise's thoughts remained with y/n—wondering, hoping, and silently yearning for their next conversation.

I got tired of waiting

Wondering' if you were ever comin' around

My faith in you was fading

When I met you on the outskirts of town, and I said

Days passed after the interrupted conversation at Lady Danbury's ball, each one stretching with anticipation and uncertainty for Eloise. She found herself eagerly attending every social event in hopes of catching another glimpse of y/n, her heart skipping a beat whenever their paths crossed across the crowded rooms.

It was at a smaller, more intimate gathering hosted by the Featheringtons that Eloise finally saw y/n again. The evening was alive with music and laughter, the air fragrant with the scent of gardenias and the promise of summer.

Eloise stood near the refreshment table, feigning interest in the punch bowl as she discreetly watched y/n across the room. y/n was engaged in conversation with Dowager Violet Bridgerton, their laughter mingling with the tinkling of crystal glasses.

Summoning her courage, Eloise took a deep breath and approached them. "Excuse me, Mama,  may I steal the Princess away for a moment?" she asked politely, her voice betraying none of the nervousness fluttering in her chest.

Violets eyes flickered mischievously as she glanced knowingly between Eloise and y/n. "Of course, Eloise," she replied with a knowing smile. "Take her—though I warn you, Her Royal Highness has been entertaining us all evening with her wit."

Eloise felt a rush of relief and gratitude towards her mother as y/n turned towards her, her expression lighting up with surprise and delight. "Miss Bridgerton," y/n greeted warmly, setting down her glass to face her fully. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

Eloise swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling the weight of her confession at Lady Danbury's ball. But still she continued to escort the Princess through the crowd until they were outside in the garden, under the nights sky, completely alone.

 "I wanted to apologise for our conversation being cut short," she began earnestly, meeting y/n's gaze with sincerity. "I... I meant what I said. About how I feel when I'm with you."

y/n's smile softened, her eyes holding a hint of something that made Eloise's heart skip a beat. "Miss Bridgerton,,," y/n replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper amidst the lively chatter around them. "I've been thinking about that conversation too."

Relief flooded through Eloise as she took a step closer to y/n, their proximity sparking a warmth that spread through her veins. "Really?" she asked, unable to contain the hope in her voice.

y/n nodded, her expression gentle yet filled with a quiet intensity that mirrored Eloise's own feelings. "Yes, really," she confirmed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Eloise's arm. "I didn't get to answer then, but... I feel something too."

Eloise's heart soared at y/n's words, her fears and uncertainties momentarily forgotten in the rush of emotions. "I'm glad," she murmured softly, her gaze locked with y/n's. "I wasn't sure how you'd feel, or... if we could even..."

Before she could finish, y/n leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Eloise's cheek in a tender gesture that sent a shiver down Eloise's spine. "I want to find out," y/n whispered, her breath warm against Eloise's ear. "If we could be something more."

Eloise's breath caught in her throat as she gazed into y/n's eyes, seeing her own hopes reflected back at her. Without hesitation, she reached up to cup y/n's cheek, her thumb caressing the soft skin beneath her touch. "I want that too, Your Highness" Eloise admitted softly, her voice filled with newfound courage and longing.

Y/N smilied, her eyes lighting up. “Please, call me Y/N. Titles are so tiresome, don’t you think?”

Eloise laughed softly. “Very much so. I find this entire season tiresome.”

In that stolen moment amidst the music and the soft glow of candlelight, Eloise and y/n leaned closer together, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken promises and the beginning of a love that dared to defy convention.

As they pulled away, breathless and smiling, Eloise felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Here, in the embrace of y/n's presence, she found not only acceptance but also the beginning of a journey she never dared to imagine—a journey of love, bravery, and the courage to be true to oneself.

They walked together in the garden, the conversation flowing easily. Eloise was captivated by Y/N’s intelligence and wit, and Y/N found Eloise’s rebellious spirit refreshing. As days turned into weeks, their friendship deepened, but so did the confusion. Can this go on forever?

Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone

I keep waiting for you, but you never come

Is this in my head? I don't know what to think

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the gardens of Bridgerton House. Eloise and y/n sat side by side on the swings, their feet lightly touching the ground, pushing back and forth in a gentle rhythm. The air was filled with the scent of blooming roses and the distant hum of London’s bustle, now just a distant murmur.

"I never imagined finding such peace in the heart of London," y/n remarked softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she swayed back and forth. Her eyes wandered over the garden, where vibrant blooms danced in the gentle breeze, their colours vivid against the backdrop of the setting sun.

Eloise, her legs stretched out in front of her, kicked lightly against the earth to keep the swing moving. "It's my favourite place to escape," she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she glanced at y/n. "Thank you for visiting me here."

Y/n turned to Eloise, her gaze filled with an unspoken tenderness. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity. She reached out, her hand finding Eloise’s, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. The simple touch sent a jolt of warmth through them, grounding them in their shared moment.

A comfortable silence settled over them, the only sounds the creak of the swings and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Eloise closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the serenity of the garden and the presence of y/n beside her.

"Do you ever wonder what the future holds for us?" y/n asked softly, her voice filled with curiosity as she turned to Eloise, who was still lost in the quiet of the moment.

Eloise opened her eyes, her gaze drifting towards the horizon where the sun was painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. "I used to worry about it," she admitted, her fingers absently tracing patterns on y/n’s palm. "But now... I like to think that as long as we're together, we can face anything."

Y/n's smile was gentle, her eyes reflecting the twilight’s colours as she leaned her head against Eloise’s shoulder. "I believe that too," she murmured, her voice steady with a quiet confidence. "We'll navigate this world together, Eloise."

In the tranquil embrace of Bridgerton House's garden, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the blossoming love between them, Eloise and y/n found solace in each other’s company. The swings moved back and forth, a gentle testament to their growing bond, anchoring them in a love that defied expectations and embraced the courage to live authentically.

He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring

And said, "Marry me, Juliet

You'll never have to be alone

One afternoon in the opulent drawing room of the palace, y/n sat with Eloise, their conversation light and filled with quiet laughter. The warmth of the fire crackled in the background, casting flickering shadows on the richly adorned walls. Y/n leaned close to Eloise, sharing a private moment, both girls peppering kisses over each other's faces, enjoying the feeling of being in each other's embraces. 

Unbeknownst to them, Queen Charlotte had returned earlier than expected, her steps muffled by the thick carpet. She paused in the doorway, her sharp eyes catching the intimate exchange between y/n and Eloise. For a moment, she simply observed, her mind racing with the implications.

"Miss Bridgerton!" Queen Charlotte's voice cut through the air, startling both young women. Eloise turned pale, her heart sinking as she realised they had been caught. Y/n sat frozen, her eyes wide with apprehension.

"Mother," y/n stammered, attempting to gather her thoughts. "I can explain—"

Queen Charlotte held up a hand, her expression unreadable. "There is no need for explanations, my dear. It seems the situation has clarified itself." She stepped further into the room, her gaze shifting between y/n and Eloise.

Eloise stood, her nerves taut with uncertainty. "Your Majesty, please understand—"

"I understand more than you might realise," Queen Charlotte interrupted gently, her tone softening slightly. She approached Eloise, studying her with a discerning eye. "Miss Bridgerton, do you care for my daughter?"

Eloise swallowed hard, meeting Queen Charlotte's gaze squarely. "Yes, Your Majesty," she admitted, her voice steady despite her nerves.

"And you, y/n?" Queen Charlotte turned to her daughter, her expression softening. "How do you feel about Miss Bridgerton?"

Eloise hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Mother, I... I care for Eloise deeply. More than I ever thought possible."

Queen Charlotte nodded, her features reflecting a mix of concern and contemplation. "Love comes in many forms," she said finally, her voice carrying wisdom earned through years of navigating societal expectations. "It is clear to me that your feelings are genuine."

Eloise blinked back tears, overwhelmed by her mother's unexpected understanding. Y/n reached out, gently squeezing Eloise's hand in silent support.

“But regardless, you both are participating in acts only those who are married should be. I will not accept a scandal.”

"Mama, what should we do? We can’t imagine life apart!" y/n asked, her voice tinged with hope and apprehension.

Queen Charlotte smiled softly, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Perhaps it is time we consider a different kind of arrangement," she mused, her mind already formulating a plan. "One that will allow you both to live authentically, without the confines of societal scandals, the only right choice in these conditions." She paused (dramatic effect no?)

“Marriage.”

And so, in that serene drawing room of the palace, a new chapter began for y/n and Eloise—a chapter marked by acceptance, love, and the courage to challenge tradition.

I love you and that's all I really know

I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

In the warm, inviting drawing room of Bridgerton House, Eloise nervously clasped y/n's hand. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, adding an air of solemnity to the moment. Around them, the Bridgertons—Anthony, Benedict, Colin, Daphne, and the younger siblings—gathered, curiosity etched on their faces.

Eloise took a deep breath, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "I... We have something to share," she began, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

Anthony, ever the observant eldest brother, arched an eyebrow. "Go on, Eloise. What is it?"

Eloise glanced at y/n, drawing strength from their presence. "y/n and I... We've decided to take a step forward together. We're engaged."

There was a collective gasp of surprise from her family. Daphne's eyes widened, her hand instinctively reaching for Benedict's. Benedict leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face. Colin adjusted himself, trying to process the unexpected news.

With the initial shock beginning to subside, the Bridgertons exchanged bewildered glances, each processing the news in their own way.

"Wait, you two are... engaged?" Colin asked, his voice filled with surprise.

Daphne, recovering from her initial shock, spoke gently. "But... how? I mean, are you even allowed to... marry?"

Eloise smiled, a touch of defiance in her eyes. "Yes, Daphne. Queen Charlotte herself has given us her blessing."

Colin, adjusting to the news, nodded thoughtfully. "I see. It's certainly unconventional, but if Her Majesty approves..."

Anthony, ever the pragmatist, chimed in. "Well, then. It seems we are in uncharted territory, but as long as you're both certain..."

Eloise and y/n exchanged a glance, their bond palpable. "We are," y/n affirmed softly.

"Eloise, are you certain about this?" Francesca asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Eloise nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, Francesca. I've never been more certain about anything in my life."

Benedict, always the voice of reason, spoke up next. "Well, this is quite unexpected, but if it's what makes you both happy..."

Hyacinth interjected, unable to contain her excitement. "Eloise, this is incredible news! I didn't think you'd ever settle down."

Anthony, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "Eloise, Princess Y/N, if this is your decision, then you have my support. Always."

Eloise squeezed y/n's hand tighter, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. "Thank you, Anthony."

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere shifted from confusion to acceptance. The Bridgertons, while initially taken aback, found themselves embracing Eloise and y/n's decision. It was a moment that marked not only a new chapter in Eloise's life but also a testament to the changing times—a time when love was beginning to transcend boundaries and expectations.

Outside, the bustling city of London continued its rhythmic pulse, unaware of the quiet revolution unfolding within the walls of Bridgerton House—a revolution led by two hearts brave enough to defy convention and choose love, in all its unexpected forms.

'Cause we were both young when I first saw you

Eloise stood by the window of their home, gazing out at the bustling streets of London. It had been nearly a year since their marriage, and the city seemed to hum with a different energy. Change was in the air, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in what she and y/n had accomplished together.

The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Beside her, y/n stirred in their sleep, their features softened in the gentle dawn. Eloise smiled fondly, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from y/n's face. They had been through so much together—the secret glances, the stolen kisses, the fear of discovery—and yet, here they were, stronger than ever.

Their marriage had sparked conversations across London society. Some viewed it with curiosity, others with disdain, but Eloise and y/n had found unexpected allies among their peers. Lady Danbury, always a force to be reckoned with, had become a staunch supporter, using her influence to deflect any lingering whispers of scandal.

As Eloise reflected on their journey, she couldn't help but marvel at how far they had come. They had faced challenges and uncertainties, but through it all, their love had remained steadfast. They had created a sanctuary within their home, where they could be themselves without fear of judgement or reprisal.

Outside, the city continued to wake up to a new day. Carriages rumbled past, merchants called out their wares, and London life carried on its bustling rhythm. Eloise turned back to y/n, watching as they stirred awake, their eyes fluttering open to meet hers.

"Good morning," y/n murmured, their voice still laced with sleep.

"Good morning," Eloise replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to y/n's lips. They shared a quiet moment together, the warmth of their embrace speaking volumes where words fell short.

"I never imagined we'd be here," y/n whispered, their fingers tracing patterns on Eloise's cheek.

"Neither did I," Eloise admitted, her heart swelling with emotion. "But I wouldn't change a thing."

They lay entwined in each other's arms, basking in the simple joy of being together. Outside, the city continued its daily hustle, but in their sanctuary, time seemed to stand still.

In the weeks and months that followed, Eloise and y/n continued to navigate their newfound roles as partners in life and advocates for change. They attended social events hand in hand, their presence a quiet yet powerful statement of love and acceptance. Through their actions, they hoped to pave the way for others who dared to love outside of society's conventions.

Occasionally, they would steal moments alone, away from the prying eyes of society, to remind themselves of the bond they shared. Whether it was a quiet evening at home or a stolen kiss in a secluded corner of a ballroom, every moment together reaffirmed their commitment to each other.

Their love story became a beacon of hope for those who yearned for acceptance and understanding. Slowly but surely, attitudes began to shift. Families whispered their support in drawing rooms, friends offered quiet encouragement over tea, and London society found itself grappling with the idea that love knew no boundaries.

As the years passed, Eloise and y/n's love story continued to unfold, weaving itself into the fabric of London's history. They faced challenges and triumphs together, building a life filled with laughter, companionship, and unwavering devotion.

Eloise often found herself marvelling at the resilience of y/n, their strength and determination a constant source of inspiration. Together, they navigated the complexities of societal expectations and personal desires, forging a path that defied tradition and embraced love in its purest form.

And so, in the quiet moments before dawn, as the city stirred awake outside their window, Eloise held y/n close, knowing that their love had not only changed their lives but had also left an indelible mark on the world around them.

I did not plan the lyrics around an epilogue and ran out HAHA oopsie

a/npt2; AHHH how did you guys feel about this, i tried to mot make it rushed i really wanted to start from the beginging and build their realtionship in a way a oneshot can, ive been considering writing a story once im done with these requests so we can get some better romance building then!!

[nikkisheep]

To Be Alone With You (Part Six)

Anthony Bridgerton x female!Sharma!sister reader

Benedict Bridgerton x female!Sharma!sister reader

Warnings: improper alone time (Ben & reader), sexual tension, me as a writer questioning if I want Ben or Anthony to be the end ship, kissing, male nudity, reader fences Benedict (I know nothing about fencing so I'm sorry if this is bad), semi-smut, handjob, hair pulling

*One of the longer chapters

Summary: You spend more time with a certain Bridgerton brother and start to question whether you could be happy with Benedict rather than Anthony.

Playlist:

Labyrinth by Taylor Swift

If Only by Dove Cameron

Back to the Start by Somo

Dark Paradise by Lana Del Rey (Maybe not a good choice, just depends)

Tag List: @shealuna , @m-rae23 , @littlepeanut03 , @aellabridgerton @sydney-m, @faatxma , @wildthoughtnananna @uraesthete, @themadhattersqueen, @theroyalmanatee, @urfavnoirette, @budugu, @helen06dreamer, @galactict3a, @imagineme2you. @sabii5, @anehkael, @aesthetic0cherryblossom, @lxovesgy, @lemonwithstupidity, @luvwithau, @stvrdustalexx, @jess4rush, @tallrock35, @msrawog

Not many nights had passed since the ball and you were being invited to the Bridgerton house by Daphne, or at least you thought. The days following the ball had been crazy as you were having numerous suitors calling on you because they thought the viscount had forgotten your sister and set his mind on you. Not that it was completely wrong, but you were not talking to Anthony and would not do so until the wedding which was to be in about a month. Not that you were keeping up for when you would have to walk down the aisle, not in a white dress.

Upon your arrival to the Bridgerton home, you were wandering around the house trying to find something interesting. You wandered to the garden and sat under a tree. The refreshing wind cooled you as the tree limbs were shading you away from the harsh sun. You close your eyes and listen to the sounds of nature. Soon, rushed footsteps and shouts had called your attention and you decided to follow it.

---

Benedict and Colin were fencing, and it looked like Colin was winning this match. Benedict was sweating in his fencing uniform and a bead of sweat slowly drips down the side of his face and disappears under his collar.

"Are you going to just stand there and stare or are you going to come over?" Benedict called out, snapping you out of the trance-like state you were in.

"How long have you boys been fencing?" You ask, shielding your eyes from the sun.

"About an hour," Colin smirked, watching you watch Benedict. "I actually have grown quiet tired."

"Would you like me to take over, Mr. Bridgerton?" You asked, hands folded together in front of your waist.

"Do they teach you girls how to fence during your lessons?"

"No, but I have seen my cousins do it."

"You are quiet aware that fencing is a man's sport, Miss Sharma," Benedict said, pushing you. He knew that you would see it as a challenge and it was, the results were exactly what he wanted.

"Rule number one, Mr. Bridgerton, do not underestimate a woman."

Colin mentions your clothing and you realized that it would be harder to move in your dress. You press your lips into a thin line before deciding to walk to the shed. Once inside, you look through the wardrobe inside, finding a pair of fencing clothes. You pull at the buttons of your dress, slipping out of the many layers, including your corset. Putting on the trousers felt odd but they were quite comfortable, more so than your corset.

Coming out of the shed, you walk to the boys again, pushing the leftover shirt into the trousers. You gave them a twirl and beamed brightly.

"Well, don't they fit lovely?" You smiled.

"Yes...yes they do," Benedict looked at the sky, not trying to hide that he couldn't look at you. Your shirt wasn't completely buttoned and Benedict was struggling not to look.

"Are you all right, brother?" Colin asked, a teasing grin creeping onto his face.

"I am quite well, you need not to worry about me brother."

You move closer to him and press you hand against his forehead and felt his temperature. Your breathes mixed in front of you, your chest was practically pressed against his. Benedict's first instinct was to lean in for a kiss, you were intoxicating to him, but as soon as he went to slightly move, he pulled away.

"Shall we return to fencing?" He spoke into the silent garden.

All while Colin was just sitting on the bench, watching the interaction between his brother and the love of his other brother's life.

---

Colin eventually leaves the garden because the heat nearly made him pass out. As you were fencing Benedict, he kept talking as a distraction, and it was working.

"Darling, are you prepared for the art lesson that I have planned for us?" He asked.

"Can't make it, Mr. Bridgerton," You said. "I have a tea party with Daphne. She sent me an invitation letter."

"That was me," He said, tapping you on your left side.

"Benedict, did you invite me here to teach me art or something else?"

The two of you stepped closer, leaving the fencing weapons on the ground. His hands came to rest on your hips, looking around the garden quickly before turning back to you.

"Did you or did you not come here for an art lesson and nothing more?" He asked, dipping his mouth to the underside of your jaw.

"I came here thinking that I would be having tea with your sister," You gasp when his teeth graze your skin. "Benedict, someone will see."

"Let them see," He said. "You should be mine."

Your head tips backwards as his mouth continues the assault on your neck. You let out a moan and he pulls away, placing his index finger over your mouth, making a shhh-ing sound.

"Quiet darling, do you want me to stop?"

You shook you head.

"Words or I will stop."

"I don't want you to stop, Mr. Bridgerton."

His mouth pressed against yours in a searing kiss, lips moving in sync and his hand moves down to your bottom. He walks you over to the bench that Colin had been sitting and he sat you down, bending down to kiss you, never wanting your lips to leave his. You pull back, pressing your hand against his chest and try to catch your breath.

"Stop...stop, we shouldn't do this," You whisper as his mouth chases yours. He is in a kneeling position and his hand is on your hips, covered by your trousers.

"We shouldn't, but we want to and who are we to deny our desires?" He pants.

"Benedict."

---

Making it to his art studio, you laugh at his rain soaked clothes. You were still in your fencing clothes and your dress was in Benedict's hands. You brace yourself against a table, smiling as your hair clung to your face and neck. You were breathtaking in Benedict's mind. How Anthony did not see how truly beautiful you were was beyond him.

"Shall we get to drawing?" He asked, breaking the silence in the cooler room.

"Yes," You said. "I was wondering if I could draw you?"

He nodded and moved to the couch. You shook your head, motioning him to come over to you.

"How do you want me?" He asked, smirking at the fact that you were watching him with such attentive eyes.

"I want you...right here," You moved him to the center of the room, right in front of the window that was lit up by the thunder and lightening from outside.

You moved to the couch to start sketching him, frowning because you could not get his figure right. You walked to him and looked up at him, your noses nearly touching.

"Does sketching me include you being so close to me?"

"I need your shirt off. I need you naked."

"Why?" He asked.

"So I can get a better view of how your body is shaped."

He slowly starts to unbutton his shirt and shrugged it off. Smirking when he noticed your hand instantly reached out to touch his toned chest. He grabbed your sketchbook out of your hands, placing it on the nearest table, and placed them on his warm body. Your mouth opened slightly at the feeling of him. He felt warm, sturdy, and perfect.

His hand was still on yours and he slowly moved it down his chest to his abs to his trousers. You gasped when he moved your hand lower.

"Do you feel what you have done to me?" He asks. "How crazy you have me feeling?"

You nod. Too dumbfounded to say anything.

He moves your hand back up and then completely off him. He takes the button of his trousers into his fingers and pops it out of the hole. He then slowly moves them down his strong, long legs. He then pulls down his underwear. His cock springs up and hits his stomach. He was big. You could tell that the genes in this family were extremely strong. You shook your head and grabbed your sketchbook, instantly drawing what you saw.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, his wet hair sticking to his skin. Water droplets were still falling from his head and dripping down his body. The lightening from outside lit up his entire body, making him look like a literal angel.

"This is exactly what I needed." You walked over to him once again, pressing your lips against his. His mouth opened to allow your tongue entrance, swallowing his moans of pleasure. You were doing that to him. You were making him needy for you. You were making him want you, he needed you.

You grip his leaking cock, slowly moving up and down, feeling the silky skin. He threw his head back in pleasure as your hand stroked him.

"Oh my..." He gasped.

"Is this what you need, Mr. Bridgerton?" You look up at him before grabbing his hair to pull him down to your level. "Is this what you need?"

"Y-Yes," He stutters as he tries to hold in his moans.

"Let me hear you, baby." Your hand starts to get more slick with his pre-cum as he gets closer and closer to his end. He starts to shake in your hands as you speed up your hand. He starts to curse and moans started to spill from his mouth.

"Oh fuck, darling," He moans out as he cums on your hand.

You kept pumping him as he shakes from his orgasm. You slowly come to a stop and look him straight in the eyes as you lick his cum off your hand and moan at the taste, eyes rolling back.

"Oh fuck..." He pants, hair sticking to his forehead.

"I love you," He whispers, you don't hear it and he quickly gathers himself up.

"How was your drawing?" He asked, once dressed. His hands were resting on your hips as he presses a quick kiss to your neck.

"I think I will need to finish it a different day."

[unknowntoyou2205]

Diamonds sister pt 1

Info: Like her mother, y/n craves to find a match out of love, but never did she expect that love to be found in royalty

Relationship: Y/n bridgerton x prince Fredrich

Set in season 1

Y/n lay on Daphne's bed as she watched her sister be swarmed by her sister and mother. The oldest Bridgerton girl had been chosen as the diamond of the season, and this meant that her family had become the main attention of the season. Being the diamonds twin sister, y/n was often used as a backway into getting her sisters attention. Many men had stepped forward to talk to her, only to have the young girls heart discouraged upon her sisters name slipping from their lips.

It wasn't unknown that y/n was the opposite of her sister, in fact she was more like her mother. While Daphne craved to have a good match to help their sisters tin society, y/n craved love. She wanted her husband to be someone she loved, and them vise versa. Yet the possibility of that match seemed to be far away from y/ns grip.

"Y/n, you must be excited for your dear sister." The mother of 9 stated to her second oldest daughter. "Of course I am mama, I just find it hard to believe that I am to find a match this season." Y/n replied in dismay, her shoulders slouching as she moved to a sitting position. "Come now sister, I'm sure you too will find someone." Daphne spoke, moving close to her sister to comfort her. "Me and you are two different people Daphne. While you are doing this to set up our dear sisters, I will not marry unless I find love." Y/n spoke out, tilting her head. "Well yes but.." Daphne started only for their mother to but in. "I'm sure you will find someone y/n, just give it time. You know your father and I started off as friends before marriage."  "I know mama." Y/n sighed, standing up. "Come now, let's get ready for tonight, I can sense that this will be an intriguing one." Daphne spoke, taking her sisters hand before pulling away towards the mirror where here lady in hand was waiting. "Yes, I'm sure it will." Y/n spoke disheartedly, moving out of the room towards her own.

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

y/n fidgeted with her glove as she sat beside Benedict as the carriage carried them to the ball of the night. Daphne and her mum sat opposite her and were chatting quietly amongst themselves. Anthoney was late as usual, so they had left without him, hoping that he would arrive on time. Seeing his sisters distress, Benedict placed his hand on y/n’s arm, causing her to look up at him. Seeing her brothers smile of assurance, y/n nodded and took a deep breathe before looking out the window as their carriage came to a stop.

Opting to wait until her mother and sister got out, y/n pushed back into her seat, trying to stay out of view as peoples attention turned to them. Daphne held her head up high as she accepted the doormans hand, and smiled slightly at the onlookers as she waited for her mother to step out. Violet looked back at y/n to see if she was following suit.

“You head on in, I will look after y/n.” Benedict assured their mum, seeing his sisters reluctance.

Glancing one more time at y/n, Violet nodded before linking hands with Daphne and walking in, smiling at those they passed. Benedict turned around to face his sister that still occupied their carriage, and held his hand out with a smile. Glancing out at the crowds of people who were walking into the ball, y/n bowed her head as she descended from the carriage, accepting her brothers hand. She thanked the doorman as he closed the door behind her before linking Benedict’s arm with hers. Benedict patted her hand in encouragement.

“If I didn’t know any better I would say that you are nervous.” Benedict whispered to his sister in a mocking way as they walked in the doors. “Does it appear that way, God I hope not. I don’t know how…” “Calm down dear sister, I am only trying to ease you up a bit. You are far too rigid for someone who should be enjoying herself.” Benedict quickly jumped in, cutting off y/n’s rant. “I struggle to see how one could have fun while being approached for all the wrong reasons.” Y/n muttered, nodding her head at two gentlemen as they smiled her way. “Don’t dread too much, I’m sure you will find your match soon enough.” Benedict reassured her, tapping her hand again as they reached their sister and mother.

Throughout the night y/n tried her best to uphold conversations with suitable suitors only for them to turn to Daphne when they had the chance. Benedict tried to keep y/n’s spirit up with the occasional remark about peoples choice of outfit, but all y/n wanted was to leave this season behind her. Even her mother was starting to notice her daughters mood, and decided to call it a night.

“Shall we retire for the night?” Violet asked Daphne as she returned from yet another dance, nodding her head discretely to the girls twin. “Yes I believe we shall, my feet are terribly achy.” Daphne announced, glancing at her sister.

Y/n stood with Daphne and Benedict as their mother left to round up the rest of her children. Anthony threw a look of concern at y/n before offering Daphne his arm. The young girl just shrugged, knowing her mum had probably told them she was getting anxious. Opting to avoid they’re glances, she decided to venture outside on her own, away from the prying eyes. Smiling at Benedict as she looked at her when she let go of him, she slowly headed out the door, into fresh air. At least she tried to, until she bumped into a tall figure.

“Oh my apologies miss.” The gentleman in front of her spoke. “No, no, my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Y/n started, only for her breath to catch in her throat when she realized who she had bumped into.

The blonde gentleman in front of her was no one but Queen Charlottes nephew, Prince Frendrich. The Bridgerton’s had become quite familiar with the Prince since the Queens continuous attempts of matching the young man with Daphne. Many days he had called upon the house, but y/n had only briefly met him, having spent majority of her time with Benedict as he painted, often modelling for him. Seeing him in front of her, y/n couldn’t help but admire his blonde curls and his blue eyes. He looked back at her, circling her face with his eyes.

“Prince Frendrich, how are you this fine evening?” Y/n’s mums voice disrupted their silent introduction. “I am quite lady Bridgerton, and you?” Prince Frendrich nodded at the older woman, taking her hand in greeting. “I am quite well, thank you. I see you have meet my other daughter y/n” The vicountess stated, glancing between y/n and the prince. “Pleasure to meet you Miss Bridgerton.” Frendrich nodded to the youngest twin as he took her hand, bringing it up to kiss it gently. “The pleasures all mine, your highness.” Y/n curtsied, ignoring the butterflies that she felt. “Forgive me for being so forward, and perhaps speaking in disrespect for your sister, but would you care to have the last dance with me?” “We are just retiring for the night.” Benedict stated, moving beside y/n, taking her hand from the Princess. “Nonsense Benedict, I believe we can wait for them. She would be delighted to your highness.” Violet shushed her son as she glanced between her daughter and the royal in front of them. “Miss Bridgerton?” The prince spoke again, offering his hand to her. “Yes, I would be honoured.” Y/n spoke with a sigh as she accepted his hand.

Violet watched on with a smile as y/n was escorted to the dance floor. She had seen the look in her daughters eyes when she seen the Prince, and the lightness in the Prince’s eyes as he looked at her daughter. The look was one she recognized, for she had once given them eyes to her beloved late husband. Glancing at Benedict, she pinched his arm as she seen the scowl on his face.

Y/n allowed he prince to guide her along the floor as the two prepared to dance the last dance. The young Bridgerton  placed her hand on his shoulder as he placed his on her hip, and she tried to avoid the sparks she felt, knowing the way this would go.

“Have you had a good night?” Prince Frendrich spoke, trying to make conversation. “As good as should be expected. Giving that I know how this dance ends.” Y/n spoke out, looking down with slight disappointment. “What do you mean?” “I  know that the Queen has invited you here to court my sister, the diamond of the season. And I know that part of that involves getting me to help you. You need not worry, I shall tell her that you are a good match for her, just as I do with every other suitor that has asked me before.” Y/n spoke harshly ,trying to withhold the disappointment in her tone. “You think that is why I asked you for this dance?” The Prince asked in confusion. “Isn’t it?” Y/n asked. “Not at all.” He shook his head, “ You attract me for some reason Miss Bridgerton. I’m not sure why but when I seen you when I first arrived I was appealed by you. You hide behind your sister just because she is the diamond of the season. However, I believe that you are equal to her beauty, if not more.” The prince stated. “You are attracted to me?” Y/n spoke in shock, not expecting that answer. “I am, there is something about you miss Bridgerton, I’m just not sure what.”  The prince spoke, and y/n stared over his shoulder, not knowing what to say to his response.

The song ended and couples started to dispatch from the dance floor, and y/n dropped her arms and stepped away from her partner.

“Would you allow me to visit you tomorrow Miss Bridgerton?” The prince  asked, and y/n only looked at him for a moment. “Yes, I think I would like that.” Y/n spoke, starting to walk back to her family as they watched. “Until tomorrow.” Prince Frendrich grabbed her partners hand and brought it up for a kiss.

Y/n couldn’t help the slight smile that appeared on her face as the Prince waked away from her and her family. Violet pulled her into a hug as Daphne grabbed her hand with excitement. As the Bridgerton family left for the night, they became unaware of the watchful eye of the Queen and Lady Danbury. 

"Perhaps the Bridgerton girls will give us great success this season." Lady Danbury spoke to the Queen, seeing her majesty's watchful eye. "Perhaps." Was all the Queen stated, not wanting to give too much away.

[alcqraz]

★ summary — after his fathers death, anthony finds solace within an unexpected someone ˖˙ ꔫ —★★★★ pairing: anthony bridgerton x sibling!reader ˖˙ ꔫ —★★★ content warnings. mention of death, description of grief & death, teenage anthony being in shambles after edmunds death (rest his poor soul) ˖˙ ꔫ —★★ word count. 3.9k ˖˙ ꔫ —★ genre. angst, so much angst. smidge of fluff, hurt/comfort? ★ authors note: anthony's story is actually so sad but i wanted to see more of how he dealt with everything and a deep dive onto what he felt of so... (also there are NOT enough anthony x sibling reader so here we are!!) ⠀⠀⠀❛⠀⠀ requests are open !!

Anthony had always believed that a profound sadness enveloped the body like a condecending fog, delving deep into the bones and clawing recklessly at the soul until it was a suffocating weight with no escape in sight. Yet now, as he stood amidst the bouts of chaos, he felt nothing. No sadness, no anger, no frustration. Just a vast, empty numbness that swallowed his entire being whole.

It were as if the world around him came to a grinding halt, and he had stopped with them—unable to escape the grasp of the coldness trickling up upon his spine. It felt as if his physical body had been frozen, but consciously, he had not—a distant observer in a weary state of forgery. The sheer oddity of it all left him out of it; an unsettling sense that he was lost in a dream too overwhelming to even comprehend was vastly disheartening. It felt like... a storm, a thunderstorm brewing inside of him, circling through and around his every vein and nerve until it ceased to exist.

He can briefly reminisce, pinching himself over and over until his skin turned blotchy red and had grown irritated in the area. The pain was a sharp reminder to him that it was a futile attempt at an escape, that it was not just some dream that he could simply wake up from. Yet, it could not be; Anthony wanted nothing better to do than just refuse. Laugh at the servants that crowded him with questions that he could not answer—the questions that he should not be worrying about at his age.

Their voices seemed to be distorted in a way that Anthony could not quite make out—a dissonant chorus, overlapping under the distinct rushing and ringing in his own ears. It was as if it went in through one ear and out the other, like water through a funnel. None of it made sense, despite it being more than natural common sense. He still isn’t sure how he managed to even utter a single coherent word; Anthony couldn’t even hear himself over the cacophony that tumbled through his mind. He couldn’t hear himself over the concious noise that screamed in his head and translated all the way to his entire body until it was the only thing radiating through his pumping blood.

In the mix of what seemed to sound like if someone had put all the most horrid sounds a man could hear and mixed them all together, jumbled and overwhelming, he could faintly hear his mother. His poor mother, screaming and crying, the sound so haunting and raw that Anthony wishes he could never hear again in his life, yet it lingered upon him like an uninvited shadow in the corner of his room. Even when it was not presently there, when he was stuck alone at night, his siblings sent off to bed by the maids, his mother nowhere in his line of sight, did he stare at the ceiling of nothing—hearing those cries replaying in his head again and again and again. It’s as if he wanted himself to go mad and Anthony must say, he was very close to so.

But the sounds were only a singular part of his torment. Lord, have mercy on his miserable soul; nothing could’ve prepared him for the sights that awaited him, that he was forced to face by nothing but himself.

His mother sprawled across the staircase, a flurry of maids assisting her but to no avail. There was no ending to her constant misery, and for a brief moment, a moment that Anthony must regret, he wished that his mother had an off-switch so he could just stop it. For her sake or his, he couldn’t quite say. 

His siblings, on the other hand, were a mix of emotions that Anthony was not qualified to handle nor care for. Was that not what maids were for? Daphne cried silently, dabbing at her tears cascading down her cheeks that failed to subside. He silently wonders to himself how many tears a woman could cry before her very essence would be evaported, while Colin and Benedict, although undeniably upset, managed to hide away their sentiments, at least towards Anthony. Well, he was sure he caught a glimpse of a tear roll down Benedict’s face, but there was nothing he could say nor do about that except pat him on the back a couple of times as a comfort of sorts before he’s again whisked away to care for something he knew little about. He wasn’t prepared for this; he wasn’t qualified for this. He was just a child. 

At least the younger ones were mostly oblivious to the situation that had wrapped around the mourning family. They all gazed up at Anthony, more confused than upset, and he must think that they would wonder why all their older siblings suddenly all looked so remorseful, cloaked with grief, and their mother a distant entity that was soon regarded as unapproachable. In the recesses of his grief-sorrowed mind, a feeble thought flickered for a moment's notice: how, he pondered, for any way to describe the gravity of their weighted reality. Could he even explain to them? Shield them from the truth, or perhaps let them burden down the knowledge that would take away their youthful innocence as it had done for Anthony as well? He felt like an abonomibal creature for even thinking about it twice.

One in particular, suggested to be more curious than the others. Y/N, her name was. Her curiosity stood out like a sore thumb, perhaps like a lightning rod in a thunderstorm. He couldn’t help but to wonder at how she seemed so upbeat despite the dark and grim reality that faced her angel of a soul. She didn’t ought to know the truth. Each time Anthony called for her, the name rolling off her tongue with gilded ease. These times, unlike others, a gentle plea was slowly woven upon his voice that could speak no more as he edged her away from the chaos with a simple “Get away from there.” or “Come over here, Y/N.” In these instances, he always sounded so diminished that Benedict would end up swooping in and picking her up for some other sort of entertainment that was not so utterly upsetting.

This night couldn't be any different.

The thunderclap erupted like a cannon shot in the wild—a deep, profound, and resonant roar that rattled the air around them, the windows shuddering with every harsh punch of wind. It was, perhaps, a night of sorrows. As the rain splattered upon the house as if it were a hose, the wind howling in the near distance. Anthony swears for a beat that he can faintly hear the rain-shooken birds finding solace in their chimney. He wishes that he were a bird; at least he would be able to have some place to find tranquility that was not just the dreadful drag of the house, each lamenting moment drowning all the cheeriness that once stood in this very place.

Anthony taps his quill absently upon the polished wood of his late father's table, the designs that were so intricate, swirling under his fingers like echoes of the past that he could no longer reach but yearned for. It must’ve taken months upon months to create it. He found enjoyment in running his sullen fingertips around the smoothness of the edges, a contrast to the jagged edges that traced along his heart. Anything that wasn’t entirely dejectful felt like a cruel mockery of how he felt.

It was late—far too late for anyone in the house to be up, him included. And yet, Anthony couldn’t find it in himself to indulge in the luxury of being able to forget it all, even for a few fleeting moments. He had tried, laying upon his father's old bed in his old room, which smelled all too much like him, enveloping his entire being. A bittersweet waiver of worn fabric and a mixture of odd colognes and papers that had been burnt from days ago. It was haunting in a way that Anthony couldn’t quite place, as if his father were still next to him—an unseen presence, watching his every move. Every time he squinted his eyes shut, the image of his father in the garden flooded his mind, lying so freakishly still. It coursed through his thoughts. He had been well surrounded by vibrant blooms of the spring-induced flowers, which seemed much too cheerful under the circumstances, and Anthony disantely thinks if those were the flowers to be used for the funeral.

Those were no means to sleep, slipping away like sand through his fingers.

He isn’t quite sure why he slips into his study rather than any other place for some sort of solitude. Anywhere would’ve been far better than his father's study; nonetheless, he finds himself sitting in the very same chair his father once sat in. Would he be proud? The words ring into his mind, digging as if it were like a tattoo within his brain. He had thought about it a select number of times over the course of a couple of days, yet the question remains unsolved. Anthony respected his father more than anyone else in his life, and putting words into his mouth that he could not say only made him feel bitter rather than better.

The silence is deafening—as if all of a sudden, the thoughts and ringing that took up his every moment had just chosen to dissapear. A harsh push back into reality is what Anthony would’ve guessed. 

Tap

Anthony furrows his eyebrows, knitting together to crease over his squinted eyes. The new, unfamiliar sound is something that he briefly wonders. He strains to listen for any hint of noise beyond the relentless screeching of the wind and the staccato rhythm of rain pellets up against the window, each drop intensifying as time dragged on. When there is nothing to hear to follow up with his thoughts, enveloping him in a wooful silence, Anthony, for a chilling interval, genuinely believes that he might be going insane. As far as-

Thump, thump.

He could no longer deny the truth that it was in fact, not his mere imagination. Anthony was more certain than the flourishing green of the grass outside the house that the sound echoing through the darkness was real and not just a byproduct of his sleepless night or the weight of horrors from the days that lay behind him pressing down upon his consciousness. He stands up willfully, feet hitting the floor with a soft thud that was met with a creak reverberating from the old wood panels. The candle that he had lit for comfort wavers precariously, the flame teetering on the edge of extinction from the sudden movement. It is no longer than a mere count of seconds before the light flickered back to light, casting an ominous glow throughout the room.

“Hello?” 

Anthony was a bit ashamed to admit it, but his words wobbeled as he spoke. A mirror reflection of how he truly felt. He drew in a deep, shuddering breath to steady and ground himself to the so little he had. The silence that he was met with was perhaps even more unnerving than before—not even a sinned whisper to break the heavy stillness.

“Who’s there?” He proclaims, this time louder, his voice firming itself as the time passed by cautiously slowly, like it was moving through sticky molasses. Anthony is a moment's reach away from venturing out of his study and investigating for himself, curiousity gnawing at him. It was soon deemed unnecessary when a familiar little head popped up from the right frame of the heavy wooden door, wild tufts of hair jutting out from all directions in a way that resembled . He can’t help but to let out a huff of relief when he notices that it is only Y/N and that he was, in fact, not crazy.

Relief then morphs into confusion within a snap of a finger. His eyebrows are met together again, except this time, not from any sort of paralyzing fear but in question. “Y/N, pray tell, what brings you out of bed at this unearthly hour?” Anthony is quick to step away from his desk, taking 3 large steps towards the younger sibling, looking down upon the half-shamed, half-curious look that had crossed her face.

He shook his head yet, bent down far enough to pick the little girl into her arms. She doesn’t protest, instead, nestling herself into his bigger body as if she were seeking some sort of comfort that Anthony could not find in himself to give. He had never been the best at offering solace to other people, nor himself, and especially not now, when his own heart felt too dim and restless to share.

“I couldn’t sleep.” She mumbles, the words lost into the warm crook of Anthony’s neck. He sets the little girl onto one of the chairs that had been meticulously placed in front of the tidied desk. As he stands, his gaze drifts upward to the Renaissance painting hanging on the wall, overlooking the study—an eye-striking masterpiece from an era long before either of them had taken their first breaths. In truth, Anthony wasn’t quite sure how they even managed to get their hands on such an exquisite masterpiece, but it had been his father's favorite painting, so he didn’t dare ask. Every time he turned to face it, the vibrant colors and intricate details felt like a worn ghost from the past, fluttering memories that stung with longing. The image reminded him far too vividly of his father, pulling him into a clouded reverie that soured his mood.

Anthony’s lips are pulled into a drifted frown, eyes gazing over to the uncurtained window where darkness stared back at him, reverberating how the moment felt of. He unknowingly presses his fingers up against his hair, as if he were to adjust how it looked, although he never quite cared for how his hair stood. Is it the storm that troubles you?” He questions meticulously, knowing how fidgety Y/N got during those periods of weather; she never seemed to be a big fan nor curious of it, rather burying herself into a bundle of blankets in pillows. “You have nothing to fear from it.” 

The girl tilts her head to one side, as if she were pondering her answer. There is a brief moment before she slowly shakes her head to the side. “A bit, I suppose.” She mumbles, her fingers playing with the hem of her nightgown, the silk fabric one that was cooling rather than heating her up. She always preferred the material. “But…” 

His eyebrow arches in surprise at the answer, a rumble of perplexity stirring inside of him as he pondered what could be bothering her at this time of night. “Then what might it be if it is not the storm?” his tone softening as he addressed his younger sister, the usual edge in his voice fading into something gentler than usual.

“I…” She lets out a soft exhale, as though she were afraid of saying it aloud to Anthony. It struck him as odd, as well; Y/N was always more open towards him than any of his siblings, although he never understood why. He never brought it up in conversation, simply accepting her willingness to share with him. “I was thinking of father.”

The words spill out hesitantly, and Y/N looks up at her brother in a way that he could only describe as ashamed, though it was nothing to be ashamed of. Anthony’s breath catches into his throat, a reflex that had become all too familiar in recent days. He runs a hand over his face, appearing more dismayed than ever. “Whatever for?” He asks cautiously, unable to help the bittersweet modulation that came along with the sentence.

Y/N looked down, legs swinging over the edge of the seat, the motion that was so kid-like, reminding Anthony of the innocence of his little sister, how he needed to protect her from the cruelty of the world. “I miss him.” She finally says, though not confidently as she usually had been, as though she had chosen her words carefully, placed diligently. “Where is he?”

Where is he?

The words chime in his head persistently, the sensation of a dagger being strung into his heart. Anthony swallows the hardening lump in his throat. He had been able to answer questions and answer to orders his entire life, and yet– this simple question, was enough for him to falter in his step. He could not just simply tell her, Oh yes, our father. He is dead. Because, well, she was a child, and at her young age, Anthony would not know of what death was. It was the furthest thing possible from what he would’ve thought of, and yet, this was Y/N’s truth. She had to face the ridicule of death, not even knowing what it was than a melancholic goodbye.

“He-” The word floundered in his mouth, unable to correlate the thoughts in his brain to the words coming out of his own mouth. “He’s…” 

“Is he dead?”

Anthony almost chokes out a laugh, because what the fuck? Where did she learn of such? She was still so young; he didn’t get it. He was sure neither Colin nor Benedict would directly say it towards her, and Daphne wouldn’t have the heart to do so. None of the other children had much of a clue of what was going on, so it could not have been them either. “Y/N, I-” And yet, he is still unable to speak. He doesn’t know if it is because of the absurdity of the conversation, or if it really is the sleep deprivation messing with him, and if he’s being honest, Anthony doesn’t have it in him to care for the reason. Not when he had... this to worry about now.

“He is dead, isn’t he?” He’s unable to refrain from noticing the quiver in her lip as she spoke, albeit the even cadence. 

Anthony dips his head down, eyes gluing to the floor because he’s unable to look his sister in the eyes. Unable to break the news and her heart at all the same time. She loved Edmund dearly; she loved everyone dearly, and that was her problem. Letting go was always the hard part, for even just a couple of moments—how could she let go for an eternity? Y/N is far from stupid though, and she’s quick to get the message. She too, looks away, this time to somewhere that Anthony can’t quite place. Her eyes are distant, as if she were not there presently, and it scared him a great deal.

“Are you sad?” Y/N inquired, the question so basic yet so meaningful for Anthony, and he can feel the strings tugging at his heart. It’s almost laughable to him; a young child who barely understood the severity of the situation, was the first one to ask him about how he felt. Not his siblings, not the maids, not the butlers, and certainly not his mother. No one doubted him, and while Anthony knew his family cared for him deeply, it underwent as if no one really did. 

“I suppose I am, yes.” He answers honestly, given that he was tired of lying to himself and others. And well, he was sure Y/N would figure it out eventually. 

“It’s okay to be sad.” She whispers gently, her head inclining to the left, and then up to meet Anthony’s gaze. For a brief period of a second, he wonders if she could read him that well. If she could see right through his facade, and knew what he needed to hear to the brink. He refused to acknowledge it, but he was aware that the words had some sort of effect on him. In a manner that had hardly ever moved him before. 

He can do nothing but nod slowly, hesitant to speak upon the matter at hand. "You truly ought to be sleeping, Y/N.” Anthony breathes out, pressing his hand against his subdued jawline, an uneven beard already beginning to form from the days he hadn’t shaved. It was the only response he could come up with, the only response he could say without directly speaking on the matter. 

Y/N bounces up, and off of the chair, landing on her two feet that were padded with socks that went up to her knees. Her favorite pair that she refused to let go of despite the many holes that had broken into the fabric. She stood much shorter than Anthony, still in the very early stages of growth. “Maybe you would be less sad if you talked.” She states woefully, her eyes holding only the sincerest of truths to the point where even Anthony knew that she did not lie. 

“I’ll be okay.” Is his respondance, his words cutting sharp into the heavy air that had filled the room. Because deep down, Anthony knows that his sister is partially right, that he truly needed to talk to someone. The only problem that he now faced was his honor and the fighting fact that he had no one to talk to. “It will all be okay.”

It’s hard for him to even believe his own words. He hadn’t had a clue how Y/N, in all her young wisdom and pureness, could believe him either. In spite of what he thinks, she only agrees with him, already beginning to walk towards the door again, this time with Anthony trailing a meter behind her. He knows well enough to at least tuck her into bed this time, to make sure that she gets some proper rest for the day ahead, although there is hardly anything to do other than funeral planning, which she had no part in.

Before she managed to walk out, Anthony ruffled his sister's hair in affection, something they now both lacked tremendously. He wished upon those days when he was Y/N’s age, able to curl up in his mother's lap, or next to his father in his study, where none of these adult problems affected him and it was just pure bliss. A perception which he could no longer relish in at this point in time. 

“Will we talk tomorrow?” Y/N promptly solicits, something that Anthony could finally answer that wouldn’t hurt him.

“I’m sure of it.” Perhaps for the first time in days, it’s a truthful answer in what he regarded. He says it, not as an entire answer, but as a promise for himself, because although he could be the mouthful of things that his brothers had constantly reminded him about, he never truly broke his promises for those he loved. And as Anthony slips his way out of Y/N’s, his sister falling into a light slumber that he’s sure will keep her down for a number of hours at least. Her eyes fluttered with the weight of sleep, her breathing steadying as the rainfall began to die down during the late night turning into early morning. 

God, maybe he could finally get some much needed sleep.

[rubysunnday]

Would I run off the world someday?

summary: the urge to run away sometimes becomes utterly unavoidable

It was a quiet, cloudy afternoon in the Kent countryside. The wisteria clinging to the outside walls of Aubrey Hall occasionally danced as the wind swept over it. After the chaotic first few weeks of the season, a sense of calm had finally arrived as the endless invites slowed down. There was always an inevitable lull a few weeks into the season - the ton tended to forget how exhausting attending ball after ball was. 

And, for the first time in a while, there was harmony in the drawing room of Aubrey Hall. Benedict and Colin sat on a sofa, both drawing into their sketchbooks. Colin was finishing up a sketch he’d started out in Greece, one that depicted the ruins of the former temples, whilst Benedict swept the page with his charcoal, trying to draw Y/N as she sat on the sofa opposite, embroidering a bunch of honeysuckle. Daphne sat next to her, quietly embroidering the Basset family crest.

Anthony was sitting at his table, completely engrossed in that morning’s newspaper. Gregory sat opposite him, concentrating on his latin, carefully writing down each word with his quill. Eloise and Hyacinth sat at the other table, both quietly munching on the tray of cakes the cook had sent up whilst reading the latest edition of Lady Whistledown. Francesca was sitting at the piano, scribbling away at her sheet music with a pencil.

A comfortable silence had settled over the siblings as they all went about their own business. 

“Now, Y/N, darling, I’ve invited the Earl of Shaftesbury to dine with us on Friday when we return to London,” Violet announced, walking into the drawing room. She was holding several letters, all with different crests stamped into their wax seals. 

Y/N looked up, holding her needle between two fingers. “Who?”

Violet paused and looked down at her. “The Earl of Shaftesbury,” she repeated, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “You danced with him just last week at the Cowper Ball.”

Y/N turned her head and looked at Daphne. “I did?” She whispered, leaning over to her sister.

Daphne leant in. “Third dance of the night. He was wearing a dark blue coat and introduced himself as Francis.”

“Oh, the earl,” Y/N said, sitting up right and nodding. “Did you invite anyone else? Perhaps Elisabeth Jordan might like to join us as well - she’s been to Greece too, Colin.”

“No, just the earl,” Violet replied, smiling. She was clearly up to something, Y/N knew that. “I thought it might be good for the two of you to get to know one another better.”

There it was.

Y/N said nothing, turning back to her embroidery with a sigh. It was her mother’s mission to see each one of her children happily married and expecting a child of their own within a year of that marriage. She struggled to accept the fact that some people just weren’t meant to be married. Or that some people may not want children. It was perfectly reasonable - there would be rumours swirling around about why but they would fade soon enough.

“Oh, Y/N, dear, don’t give me that look,” Violet said, turning to face her daughter. “I’m doing this for you!”

“I danced with him once, mama.”

“He’s an excellent match! He’s intelligent, kind and would be advantageous for you!” Violet folded the letters back up again. “I expect you to be there and I expect you to sit next to him and make polite conversation.”

“Mama -”

“No, Y/N. I’ve given you plenty of time to make the first move yourself. We’re four weeks into the season and you have had endless callers but you have not followed up with a single one.”

Y/N set aside her embroidery hoop and turned to face her mother. She wasn’t in the mood to be berated. “Has it ever occurred to you, mother, that perhaps I don’t want to get married yet? That, maybe, I don’t want to have children either?”

Everyone in the room froze. No one dared to raise their heads or even make eye contact with one another. Anthony risked a glance up and over at his sister, silently proud of her for making a stand, whilst also knowing the conversation was inevitably about to get nasty. 

Violet blinked. She blinked again. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean,” Y/N sat up, sitting on the edge of the sofa, “what if I am quite content to simply… entertain myself for the foreseeable future? I do not understand why my future has to depend on my making an advantageous match. I am perfectly happy as I am right now.”

“That may be so, dear, but you cannot expect to be that way forever!” Violet laughed but there was no humour in it.. “Eventually, like all of us, you will move out to live with your husband.”

“But what if I do not want to get married?”

“You do not have a choice, Y/N,” Violet grounded out. “It is what is expected of you.”

“Yet, it isn’t expected of the men,” Eloise chimed in, keeping her eyes focused on Whistledown.

“There are rules for men and rules for women and whilst I agree that it is unfair, that is the hand we have been dealt,” Violet continued, barely sparing Eloise a glance. 

Y/N looked at her mother. “I understand that. But why do I have to get married this season?” She sighed. “I just want a year to adjust to everything because, despite the preparation, there is a lot I was not prepared for.”

“The longer you wait, the harder it becomes,” Violet continued, refusing to back down. “Besides, if you get married this year, next year you can enjoy the season with your children.”

“And if I don’t want children?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N, of course you want children.”

“I don’t want children,” Eloise called.

“Eloise,” Violet warned, glaring at her. She looked back at Y/N. “Children are a part of life, dearest. The joy of building your own family is second to none.”

“But what if I don’t want to,” Y/N tried again. “I have no interest in having any of my own, mama. I have no need to!”

“Your husband would disagree,” Violet said firmly, clearly indicating that the conversation was over. “I will hear no more of this. The earl is coming next week and you will try your hardest to win him over.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows and huffed a sigh out. She stood up and brushed past her mother, pulling open the drawing room door and disappearing out of it without a word.

Anthony sighed, folding his newspaper shut. “I’ll go,” he grumbled, following after his sister.

Y/N almost ran down the stairs, as desperate to get away as she was. She took a corner sharply and bumped into a maid, nearly knocking her into a nearby table. 

As she stormed into the stables, the stable hand looked a little alarmed but said nothing, hurrying out of her way. Y/N’s horse was already saddled up. Before her mother had ruined her afternoon, she had been planning on going out for a ride with her brothers.

She was still going to do that - just a little faster and with less care about how she looked afterwards. 

Y/N swung up onto her horse and gathered the reins into her hands, squeezing with her knees to urge her horse onwards. She tightened the reins and as they emerged out of the stables and past the back door, they were almost at a canter.

Anthony stepped out the back door as Y/N rode past, her horse clearly responding to its riders' need to run away and fast. He swore softly and ran down to the stables, snatching his horse's reins from the stablehand and swinging his leg up and over.

He urged his horse on and soon he too was cantering out the stables and down the path that led into the woods. Y/N was just too far ahead of him which made it difficult to catch up, especially when she was clearly encouraging her horse to ride flat out.

Y/N was oblivious to her frantic older brother chasing after her. The adrenaline rushing through her veins drowned at any and all thoughts she had of her future - the uncertainty around her life and who she would end up with. It drowned out the all consuming feeling of knowing you had no control over anything and instead, all she could hear was the wind rushing through her ears and her horses grunts as he pulled at the reins, wanting to go even faster. 

She obliged, letting the reins go a little bit more. It was too fast, Y/N knew that. But her desperation to run and keep on running was overwhelming - it was blinding her, rendering her numb. 

Her horse gradually began to slow down as he ran out of energy. Y/N didn’t fight it. Anthony managed to catch up with them, reaching over and snatching the reins from Y/N’s hands and bringing them both to a controlled stop, just metres away from the edge of the lake. 

Y/N looked ahead, panting hard, sweat beading on her brow. The wind had torn her hair from its pins and tendrils stuck to her face, knotted together. Mud splattered up the hem of her pale blue dress and her arms were speckled with goosebumps. 

Anthony looked at her. He raised an eyebrow. “Feel better?”

Y/N swallowed, her mouth dry. “Do you ever feel like you're suffocating?”

Anthony turned his horse to face Y/N. He sat up, straightening his back and sighed. “Every day.”

“I never used to.” Y/N breathed heavily, brushing her hair back from her face with a shaking hand. “Not until this year. Now it’s all balls and suitors and marriage - and I have no control over any of it. It’s like my life is no longer my own.”

“That’s exactly how I felt after father died. I was suddenly thrust into a role I hadn’t been properly prepared for and no one asked me how I felt. I went from Anthony to Viscount in a matter of moments and I had no control over any of it.”

Anthony rarely opened up like this - was rarely vulnerable like this. He shielded himself from his family and never let them see more than he wanted them to. Whether it was out of fear of judgement of lack of understanding, Y/N didn’t know. Anthony was the one thing that held the Bridgerton’s together and perhaps he thought that if he broke, then so would everyone else. 

Y/N didn’t remember much of her father’s death and the days that followed. Benedict had told her how Anthony had shoved his own grief to the side and had taken control - had become the viscount. It helped her mind to know that Anthony too felt like he was suffocating. 

“I feel like I’m running down a hill and I can’t stop,” Y/N said, her words still a little spaced out as she caught her breath. “There’s a giant rock chasing me and if I stop, even for a second, I’ll be hit.” Anthony kept quiet, letting his sister run through her thoughts. “I have only been out in society for a month and yet, I am expected to have fallen in love already - to have decided on marriage and who the father of my children will be. I barely know what my favourite colour is, Anthony. How am I meant to make such a significant decision at barely eight and ten years of age?”

Anthony shrugged. His horse snorted, tossing his head back. “Society seems to think you are old enough.”

“Fuck society.”

Anthony snorted. He couldn’t help it. His sister rarely swore - it wasn’t proper - but when she did, it always made him laugh. His snort elicited a smile from Y/N and Anthony matched it. 

“I can talk to mother,” Anthony said, “and tell her to take a step back.”

Y/N closed her eyes, the wind blowing around them. “Do you think it would help?”

Anthony paused. “I don’t know. It would give you time to get your head straight.”

“But all the eligible men might be gone.”

Anthony nodded. “There is that element to it.”

“Then I appear to have no choice.” Y/N sighed, looking defeated. 

“Meet with the Earl of Shaftesbury next week,” Anthony said. “See how the dinner goes, how he is around you and take it from there. If he is not the right person then we will try again. You may not be able to avoid marriage and children for as long as you’d like, but we can take our time with finding the right husband for you.”

Y/N nodded, pressing her lips together. “That would help. But if I don’t find a match this season -”

“Then we try again next season,” Anthony replied simply. “Besides, do you honestly think Eloise will be getting married this season?”

“I don’t think Eloise will be getting married full stop, Anthony,” Y/N muttered, guiding her horse to turn around. She urged it forward and Anthony followed, the two siblings slowly walking back to the house. “It’s a miracle she’s agreed to attend any balls at all.”

“Bribery works miracles,” Anthony said, smiling to himself. “I just really hope Francesca is more compliant - I only have so much money spare each month.”

Y/N laughed. She looked over at her brother and smiled at him. “Thank you for listening. It helps to know I’m not alone.”

Anthony tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement. “I will always listen, Y/N and I will always have your back.”

[midnightstar-90]

Fanfic Idea #2

To all my Bridgerton writers,

I have another brilliant idea.

What if Simon had a sister.

Mhmm. Okay.

I need you to stay with me now.

He doesn't find out until after he marries Daphne when he goes through his father's finances. He sees a small yet significant amount of money going toward an unknown individual. Simon really wants to know who this person is so he investigates only to find out it's his sister.

His father, after the death of Simon's mother, grieved differently than most and accidentally knocks up a young maiden from the town. Come to find out that the OG Duke of Hastings did have a soft side and provided for the girl and his mother.

When Simon first learns about this, he is furious. But with the help of Daphne, Simon decides to bring the girl to his estate and allow her to stay there so that they can get to know each other. Reader or OC (whichever) doesn't care for money, and she intends to make sure everyone knows, no matter how many times they say otherwise.

Please, I would really like to see what you guys come up with. Do as you please. I would love to read.

[delusional-4-fake-people]

on today's talk show

And we are back to help this lost girl find another fic.

That's right i need help again to find a fic, yea this is like the 3rd? time needing help to find one BUT whenever i think about a fic i read a long time ago i need to find it soooo it's a Simon basset x reader and again i'm going off of memories

so reader is a Bridgerton and she in love with Simon (obviously) and she goes on a walk in the middle of the night or something and Berbrooke or a random guy corner her in a alley way and hurt her and tried to do stuff to touch her and she saw someone walking by so she screamed and the person happened to be Simon who beat up berbrooke and brought the reader back to her house.

That's all i remember

[inutheangel]

Growing my fav list of Bridgerton writers 💗

Bridgerton Masterlist

Bridgerton Sibling!Reader

She/her Reader

Headcanons

Being a Sick Bridgerton Sibling Would Include… (she/her)

Fluff

Lightning Bugs x sister reader (She/her)

Two is Better Than One x sibling reader (She/her)

Picnic Squabbles x Sibling Reader (she/her)

Little Matchmaker x sibling reader (she/her)

An Average Bridgerton Ball x Sibling Reader (she/her)

Angst

Tag You’re It x sister reader (she/her)

The Forgotten Twin x Bridgerton!Sister

Careful x sibling reader (she/her)

The Familiar Barmaid x Bridgerton Sister!Reader (she/her)

They/Them Reader

Headcanons

Being a Bridgerton Sibling Would Include… (they/them)

Hurt/Comfort

How Could They Resist (they/them)

He/Him Reader

Fluff

How Does A Lady Come To Be With A Child x brother reader (he/him)

A Nice Promenade x brother reader (he/him)

You Don’t Have To Hide From Us x brother reader (he/him)

Angst

We Are Stronger As A Family x brother reader (he/him)

I Am Not A Baby x brother reader (he/him)

My Brothers Are Idiots x brother reader (he/him)

Cheaters Don’t Prosper x brother reader (he/him)

All Grown Up x brother reader (he/him)

Bloody Gossip x brother reader (he/him)

Mourning The Girl I Used To Know brother!reader (he/him)

Doubt x brother!reader (he/him)

Hurt/comfort

Eventually It All Boils Over x brother!reader (he/him)

Accidents Happen x sibling reader (he/him)

Anthony Bridgerton

Fluff

Just Shut Up and Kiss Me (He/Him) FTM Reader

The Rainbow After The Rain (she/her) wife reader

Angst

This Could Work x daughter reader (she/her)

Honesty Is A Trait To Be Loved x wife!reader (she/her)

Life Preserver x wife!reader (she/her)

Benedict Bridgerton

Fluff

Reunions x reader (she/her)

Lady Whistledown Knows Best x reader (they/them)

Angst

You Two Are Truly Idiots x reader (she/her)

Love Stings x reader (she/her)

Colin Bridgerton

Simon Basset

Angst

Truth Comes Out x daughter reader (she/her)

Papa’s Girl x daughter reader (she/her)

Eloise Bridgerton

Headcanons

Being Eloise’s Younger Brother Would Include… (he/him)

Angst

Let’s Take A Breath First x reader (he/him) 

[frost-queen]

All about the heart (Reader & Bridgerton Siblings)

Requested by: @mariexoxosblog, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @cherrysxuya

Summary: Reader has a heart defect where you have a hard time breathing whilst running with your siblings.

Chatter filled the park as the Bridgerton’s arrived. Anthony in the front, looking over his shoulder to reply to Colin’s remark. Francesca running past him with Gregory. Eloise and Benedict walking side by side in silence. Francesca with mama as Daphne had her arm around you. Some gents and ladies turned their heads at the sudden disturbance of peace. – “Gregory! Hyacinth! Stay close!” – Violet called out seeing they were running off.

Hyacinth giggled loud, turning around to run up to Anthony. Anthony paused, blocked her way and picked her up to her dislike. She called it out when she got lifted up. Her complaints ending in laughter as Anthony set her back down. Gregory ran up to the tent, claiming the first chair as his by letting himself fall into it. Benedict jogged over to him.

Whistling loud with a nudge against his leg to get off. – “This is my seat.” – Gregory said stubborn. Benedict set his hands on the arms of the chair, leaning in. – “Go help mama.” – he replied with a cheeky smile. Gregory stared annoyed at him as Benedict kept nudging him to get up.

Gregory got up going over to Violet as Benedict sat himself down smiling. Francesca rounded him with crossed arms. – “You are the worst.” – she commented with half a smile. Benedict shrugged his shoulders, glad he had a good chair. Daphne saw another one of the folding chairs leading you to it. She sat you down happily.

She then went over to Colin to assist him into spreading out a blanket. Benedict grabbed the arms of his chair, hopping his chair closer to yours so that he could face you. – “Comfortable sister?” – he asked. You nodded. Benedict held his hand low with a luring smirk. You slapped your hand down on his with a laugh.

Benedict grabbed for you, tickling you. You squirmed against his grip, already feeling it come up. Feeling how hard your heart was pumping to get the blood flowing around your body. Your breathing becoming deeper, getting worn out. Anthony noticed it, running over. He slapped Benedict against his back to stop.

Benedict moved his hands up, looking questionable at Anthony’s glare. It gave you the time to seat yourself better and catch your breath. Immediately you were worn out. Anthony knelt before you, laying a hand on your knee.  – “Are you alright Y/n?” – he asked. You hummed loud, still trying to steady your breathing. It always took a while to do so. – “I’m not fragile.” – you said to your big brother with a smile.

Anthony took your hand, looking fondly up to you. – “No, but you mustn’t forget your limits.” – he reminded you. Benedict felt a bit guilty. He just wanted to have fun, like he did with Hyacinth or Gregory. You saw the sudden silence and guilt on his face. You moved Anthony aside to get to Benedict. Wrapping your arms around him. – “Thank you for not treating me any different.” – you whispered to him. Benedict hugged you back.

It wasn’t easy being different from your different. A heart defect they called it. A default in the heart that made it easier for you to get worn out. Your heart needing to put in that little extra effort to get the blood flow around your body. Gregory came over, tugging at Anthony. – “Come play!” – he said, pulling Anthony away. You waved him away, letting him know, you would be alright. – “I’ll just settle with my notebook.” – you told him.

Benedict re-arranged the chairs so that you were sitting beside each other. He took out his sketchbook and pencil. You opened your notebook scribbling down words. Poets. Little stories you loved to write out. Colin joined Anthony, Gregoy and Hyacinth by the tent for a game. Violet was sharing tea with Daphne and Francesca. Eloise laid down near them, trying to catch some more sleep.

Hyacinth and Anthony stood before each other. Gregory and Colin to the side. Hyacinth signalled to Anthony that she was ready to throw. She threw the hoop at him. Both Gregory and Colin trying to grab it. They missed as the hoop hooked around Anthony’s arm. He pulled his eyebrow cheeky up, making Hyacinth laugh. Anthony threw the hoop back as Colin shot his hand forwards, hitting the hoop with his fingers as it landed against Gregory’s head.

“Au, what was that for.” – Gregory called out, rubbing his head. – “Sorry.” – Colin apologized. Gregory picked the hoop up from the ground, giving it back to Anthony for another try. Benedict moved his head to the side, trying to peak at your notebook. – “Writing a poem about me?” – he asked teasingly.

You busted out in a laughter. – “You have to admit I am very interesting to write poems about.” – he brought his hands behind his back, stretching his legs out. His comment made you roll your eyes in a sarcastic way.

 “If Y/n wrote about you it would make people scream.” – Eloise commented with one eye half open. Benedict looked behind him to her on the blanket. – “Scream with terror.” – Eloise filled in with a loud laugh. Benedict moved his hand behind him to playfully slap at her but he couldn’t reach her. Gregory came running over to you. – “Y/n do you want to play with us?” – he asked.

“I would love to.” – you answered putting your notebook away. – “Be mindful Y/n.” – Violet called out as you went after Gregory. – “Yes mama.” – you responded getting pulled away by Gregory. You joined the others. – “Let’s play tag.” – Hyacinth suggested. Anthony looked over to you. – “Suggest something else Hyacinth.” – he spoke. 

You immediately knew he referred to you. – “I can handle it. Let’s play tag.” – you expressed not wanting to give your family limitations. – “Y/n are you sure?” – Colin spoke as you didn’t want to hear any more pity. – “Yes! Now let’s play.” – you said a bit annoyed. – “I’ll be it.” – Anthony moved his hand up, his other pressed to his chest.

Hyacinth and Gregory started to run away. Colin waited for you. You started easy, jogging off as you immediately felt it. Your breathing becoming shallow and loud. Anthony started to run as you staid still for a moment to catch your breath. You saw your brother run over to Gregory as he made his way over to you. With Gregory nearing, you had to run as well. You kept going feeling the pounding of your heart in your head.

Your legs feeling like it carried sandbags. The immediate feeling of tiredness in your legs as you knew you couldn’t hold it out any longer. You needed a moment to stop. Anthony noticed it slowing down. He looked around, going after Colin as he deliberately left you alone. – “Hey you could’ve tagged her!” – Colin called out taking a run for it.

“I choose whom I tag!” – Anthony breathed out. Anthony was able to tag Hyacinth as she was bummed out by it. You were near Colin, standing a bit still as Colin was shielding you a bit. Hyacinth came running over. Colin darted to the side as she focused her tag on you instead.

Squealing loud, you leapt aside, starting to run to avoid her. Hyacinth kept running after you. You weren’t a quitter so you kept running. Feeling your body tire out from the exercise. Breathing loud that it was more like panting. Your head turning a shade of red as you felt warm. Heart pounding in your head. – “Tag you’re it!” – Hyacinth called out touching your back.

The moment she tagged you, you stopped. Legs feeling sloppy as you let yourself fall to the ground. – “Y/n!” – your brothers called out. Benedict’s eyes widened, jumping out of his chair to run over. You laid yourself on your back, panting loud to catch your breath. Anthony and Colin rushing over to kneel at each side of you. – “Are you alright sister?” – Anthony asked worried. – “I’m fine.” – you answered out of breath.

“I just… need to catch… my breath…” – you replied, feeling your heart pound loudly in your chest. You noticed your siblings looked frightfully at you. – “I’m alright. I just need a moment to recover.” – you reminded them. Colin helped you sit up straight as you were still breathing loudly through your mouth. – “How about a game of cards?” – you suggested with a laugh. Benedict shook his head playfully. Anthony and Colin helped you up to your feet. Leading you back to the tent for some calmer games.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[fayes-fics]

Eden

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Seeing you with other Bridgerton offspring has an interesting effect on your new husband...

I couldn't resist using a Season 3 gif cos hello.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, breeding kink, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, vaginal sex, creampie, ie filthy babymaking. Also, the smut is bookended by fluff; yeah, that probably needs a warning, lol.

Word Count: 4.2k

Authors Note: This is a very belated request fill for @victoriaholland (HERE) and Anon (HERE) about Benedict with a touch of baby fever. I decided to combine the asks as I saw a way to weave them together. Sorry for the delay, but well at least babymaking seems appropriate for spring hehe. Thank you to @colettebronte for being an awesome beta, as always. Err, Enjoy! <3

Daphne’s latest child is beautiful; you delight in his joy as he bounces on your lap, learning the strength of his sweetly chubby legs, little fists wrapped tight around your fingers. 

Looking up, you catch your husband's eye from afar, his stare intense across the gardens of Bridgerton House as you sit under a tented shelter upon a picnic blanket. The rest of the family are scattered around, playing games or chatting, but you are quite content minding the little one while his nanny takes a few moments to eat lunch.

“Is everything alright, my love?” You inquire as Benedict draws closer. 

“Yes… I….” He seems a little flustered. 

“Are you sure?” 

You pull a funny face for the infant, who breaks out into the most adorable infectious giggles that has you grinning from ear to ear and hugging him into your body, swaying with him. 

“Are you alright? Minding the child?” He checks, his voice a touch odd.

“Oh yes. We are more than happy, are we not, my little prince?” You talk in a vaguely silly baby-talk voice, addressing the child in your arms as much as Benedict. 

Again, the child peals with delighted noises and spit bubbles enthusiastically, looking up at Benedict eagerly as much as you do.

“Well, that is wonderful news,” he blusters, and you could swear he is out of sorts, breathless almost. “I shall… leave you to it,” he adds, giving you a bow and then withdrawing as the little one wiggles out of your arms.

“Ignore your Uncle Benedict; he is being a silly billy,” you whisper conspiratorially once the man in question is out of earshot.

The response is babbled nonsense as the child bashes one wooden brick against another.

“I quite agree,” you state sagely before breaking into a goofy grin.

——

“Please?” Hyacinth wheedles.

“No, Hy,” you sigh without even looking up.

“Ugh, you are no fun!” she scowls, crossing her arms defiantly.

“What is all this?” Anthony clips as he strides into the drawing room, Benedict on his heels, as Hyacinth flounces dramatically across the room. 

“Your little sister is angry at me because I will not allow her to drink the punch; it has brandy in it,” you explain cooly.

“Quite right, too!” Anthony chimes as Hyacinth rolls her eyes.

“Listen to y/n, Hyacinth, and do as she says,” Anthony lectures, and you feel grateful for his support, effectively neutering her rebellion. “Despite a temporary lapse of judgment when choosing a spouse, she is otherwise one of the most sensible people in this family.”

“Hey…!” Benedict protests.

“Please…” Anthony withers, twisting towards him. “Brother, if there is one thing us Bridgerton men know how to do, ‘tis to marry a woman entirely too good for us. And well done on that, by the way.”

You smirk at Anthony’s hilarious way of putting his brother - your husband - in his place, catching Kate’s eye with a wink as she enters the room carrying her baby. 

“Y/n, come and meet the future Viscount; he’s awake at last,” she calls to you. 

You are immediately on your feet and grinning, taking the tiny bundle from her arms and cooing at the sweet little boy. The baby opens his enormous brown eyes and observes you for a second before breaking into a one-toothed grin and happily waving his fists at you.

“Oh, he really likes you!” Kate enthuses, delighted.

“As I do you, little one,” you smile, leaning over to kiss his forehead.

You look up to see Benedict with that same look on his face as earlier. A tempest, almost an energy over his being. It’s almost as if he is… aroused?! Which is most odd.

As you hand the baby back to Kate, giving him one final kiss, Benedict is suddenly by your side. Announcing to the family that there has been a change of plan and, regrettably, you will not be able to stay for dinner, his arm an insistent tug around your waist.

——

“Why did we not stay for family dinner as originally planned, my love?” 

Your question is soft, only just audible over the noise of the carriage as you trundle over the cobbled streets of Mayfair a few minutes later. 

“I decided that we should perhaps dine at ours this evening…” his voice adopting that deeper edge which always causes butterflies in your tummy. His hand lands on your knee, a heavy weight that feels portentous. He slides closer on the bench seat.

“Why might that be?” your ask turns breathy, entirely without you meaning it to.

“I want to be alone with you,” he murmurs, unmistakably pitched to arouse. 

The carriage seems to notch up a few degrees as the rocking motion presses your side rhythmically into his. The sound of the wheels and hooves is so loud. He twists to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pulls your back against his flank. 

“All day today, I have watched you,” he rumbles, hand warming the skin around your clavicle, fingertip brushing in circles. “You are so very good with children, darling. Seeing you so naturally with the babies and how you handled Hyacinth… you would be the perfect mother.”

You blush a little at his praise. “Thank you, my love. I would like children one day. Your children. Imagine a child with your eyes. They would be quite the most beautiful,” you sigh wistfully, leaning back into him, his hand feeling heavier on your skin.

Benedict chuckles modestly. “And what of your beauty? Would a child version of you not be the most fetching?”

You giggle and turn your head sideways to nuzzle against his jaw. “I think we would indeed make beautiful babies together, Benedict.”

“I agree,” his voice a tempting lilt, fingers skating downwards over the swell of your breast now, slipping inside the fabric and making you gasp as he tweaks your nipple. “And I think we should start as soon as we get home.”

“Did seeing me with babies suddenly make you want your own, Mr Bridgerton?” Your hand flexes on his knee as he toys with your breast.

“Oh yes darling, it made me want to take you right there…” he asserts, finally admitting those looks he gave you were indeed pure arousal.

You reach up and run your hand into his hair, fingers flexing on his warm scalp as you pull his face to yours.  “And suddenly, it appears I am no longer hungry for dinner…” you whisper flirtatiously, your cupid's bow brushing his stubbled upper lip.

He groans, and his passionate kiss is plundering, a tingle running over your limbs, just as your carriage comes to a shuddering stop outside your townhome. 

Uncaring of the neighbourhood or any prying eyes, Benedict sweeps you out of the carriage in his arms, carrying you bridal style over the pavement and through your front door.

“My wife and I are not to be disturbed,” he announces crisply and loudly to the staff as you enter the hallway.

Leaving no room for doubt about his plans by pulling you into a searing kiss for all to see before ascending the stairs rapidly. He practically growls as he kicks open the door to your master bedroom door and slams it shut again with his foot. 

“Benedict…” you stammer, heart pounding at how overwrought he is. 

You have never seen him like this. Commanding, crackling with an energy that has your body simmering. He is usually so sweet, affable, and kind. Every time you have been intimate since your wedding night a few weeks ago, he has been a complete gentleman: loving and so very tender. The grip he has had on you tonight feels different. This is something primal—like a switch has been flipped at a basal level in his being.

He places you down onto your feet before the roaring fire, his face intense.

“Wife…” The way he says it makes you feel a flush creep over your skin.

“Husband…” you respond in kind, belly fluttering with excitement.

“Take off your dress,” he orders, his dilated pupils shining in the firelight.

This is new. Usually, he is the one to remove it slowly and softly from your body. 

“I cannot, the buttons…” you confess, signalling behind you. You would need your ladies' maid to unhook them from between your shoulder blades.  

He moves closer, seeming so much taller; his ragged breaths dance in the tendrils of your hair as he reaches around behind your shoulders. With a rough tug that makes you startle, he tears the fabric asunder, the sound of tiny pearl buttons skittering across the polished wooden floor behind you as you gasp in surprise.

“There…” he smirks dangerously, “problem resolved.”

You are speechless as he withdraws a pace, looking at you expectantly. You follow his order, a slight quake in your hands as you push the frayed dress down your body, still a little shocked by his strength. Then you reach for the crisscross lacing of your stays, feeling the weight of his stare as each loop relents, his eyes hungry, his body heaving with deep breaths his fitted jacket taut with each inhale. You peel the item away, leaving just your thin white cotton chemise.

“Rip it too,” you plead before you realise it, enthralled by this assertive demeanour.

With a noise in the back of his throat, he takes a pace forward again, and you stare up at him, enchanted. He grasps the fabric above your breasts and then rips it loudly from your chest all the way to your ankles, the sound echoing up the walls. Again, his strength has your knees weak. As the torn pieces flutter from your body, you want to bathe in the hungry sound he makes as he realises you are clad only in white knee-high silk stockings, no underwear to be seen, the warmth from the fireplace swirling around your intimate area. 

As you stand almost naked before your imposing husband, him still fully dressed, there is a knot low in your gut. But it’s not fear; it’s something else entirely—desire. Trembling, breathless and wanting. An elemental wish to be thoroughly taken.

He steps forward, eyes glittering, and his fingers plough roughly between your legs, making you gasp.

“Eden,” he proclaims, his fingers snagging over your swollen pearl of a clit with almost rough strokes, the callous where he holds his paintbrush abrading your folds. “A wonderful, lush, wet garden. Just waiting to be planted.”  His words are hypnotic and low, questing fingers being coated with a dewiness that is entirely of his making.

“Please…” you whimper, squirming on his touch, captivated by this version of your husband, wanting to submit to him, a burning need low in your belly. His fingers slide faster, making a lewd, wet noise. 

“Are you going to let me?” Benedict croons. “Plant my seed inside you?”

Until now, he has always been careful to complete outside your body. A slightly bereft feeling every time - the wonderful moment cut short as he leaves you suddenly empty, a warm splash upon your thighs, tummy or spine. The idea he will stay inside you is alluring in a way you don’t fully comprehend.

“Yes, please, husband,” your nipples puckering almost painfully against the wool of his lapels as he crowds into you. 

“Good. Get on that bed right now,” Benedict orders roughly, pointing at your four-poster bed as he tugs off his jacket.

You scramble to obey. Feeling under a spell. Being naked save your stockings feels illicit as you lay back into the soft pillows and watch as he undresses, staring you down the whole time. 

You slide a hand between your legs instinctively as more of his toned body is revealed. He growls at the sight, you biting your lip and watching him, his torso bare, his trousers clinging to his shapely legs, to his swollen cock. He bends to remove his shoes, and the sight of his broad shoulders flexing is enough to make you moan. As he stands back up and hooks his elegant fingers around the trouser buttons, a smug look on his handsome face that he is doing this to you.

“Husband…” you call out to him, writhing on your fingers shamelessly now, one hand shooting up to brace your movements against the headboard, flushing warm down to your toes.

With a few dextrous flicks, the buttons relent, and his trousers drop to the floor. His naked body is always a delicious sight, but tonight feels more, every sense heightened, moaning again as he takes a step towards you, thigh muscles flexing, his cock standing proud to attention.

Again, a soft plea falls from your lips, your eyes raking every plain of his tempting form, feeling yourself swell under your fingertips.

“Not yet,” he clucks, the arrogance somehow more beguiling as you bite your lip. “I think I want to watch you come, my darling. All by yourself. I hear female pleasure can aid with conception after all.”

“Will you not touch me?” you petition, reaching your other hand imploringly towards him.

“No darling, I shall watch,” his lopsided grin deadly. 

He wraps a strong fist around his own cock, pumping slowly, a bead of moisture gathering at his tip, glistening in the candlelight as he does. 

“Now, use both hands, please. Place your fingers inside yourself,” Benedict instructs as you blindly follow, a languid buzz in your brain—you would do anything he told you to right now.

Planting your feet squarely on the bed, you drag your ankles up higher towards your bottom, letting your legs fall open wider to give him a better view as your other hand slides down. You plunge two fingers into yourself, your hips canting off the mattress with a staccato breath at the sensation of yourself, so hot and tight.

“That's right,” he endorses, a leisurely movement of his hand up and down his cock as he watches you from a few feet away. “‘Feel yourself, darling. Tis paradise, is it not?” that trademark rumbling voice skittering over your skin, goosebumps raising down your arms just at the tone. 

“Come closer,” you appeal breathily, wanting to smell him, feel his heat, his flesh—anything.

He shakes his head, smirking wider as his refusal spurs you on, desperate to come. Mewling as your fingers speed up, one circling your clit, the others buried as far as you can, wishing instead it were his long, graceful fingers reaching places you are unable. Watching him squeeze his own cock hurtles you fast, already aroused from the moment he slid a hand into your dress in the carriage. 

Unable to fight the tide in your body, you screw your eyes shut and call out his name as your pussy starts to convulse around your own fingers, toes curling into the sheet, your muscles all going stiff, your hips again raised as you feel the tide break. A gush of wetness runs down your palm and your bottom cheeks as your mind floats away. Distantly, you can hear him speaking, but it’s fuzzy as you flop back down, sated, your legs going flat, too shaky to balance.

You startle as a warm hand circles the wrist of your fingers still inside yourself, bringing you abruptly back into the room. Benedict looms over you, his chest heaving, that power still there.

“What was that?” your query drowsy, lips dry.

He chuckles richly. “I said that was spectacular,” he repeats, bemused. “But also that I want you to paint your nipples with your arousal, my love, for me,” he commands, tugging your hand so your fingers slide out of yourself.

You do as bidden, still floating down from the high, smearing your own warm juices onto your puffed areolas.

“Perfect..” he intones.

In one swift, athletic move, he mounts the bed. You cry out as his warm mouth encloses your left nipple, groaning lewdly as he licks you clean of your arousal, his tongue a heavy, warm, wet weight curling around your sensitive bud, his lips tugging gently, reawakening those synapses only just recovering from your orgasm. 

“Why do you always taste like heaven?” his dusky question is rhetorical, his breath gusting over your sternum as he swaps to your other breast to meter out the same treatment. He has you moving under him again as he settles his body over you more firmly, your hips tilting up to feel his hard cock graze your inner thigh. “I wonder if you will still taste like heaven when you are heavy with my child?” he hums thoughtfully as he teases your nipple with the tip of his nose, one hand cupping your empty belly. “I dare say even moreso, ripe like a vine, bearing fruit…” That sonorous voice teases over your skin as he moves slowly upwards to nuzzle your neck. “My fruit….” he adds, possessive as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, so loud now right by your ear.

His hands wind around your thighs as he shuffles position so he is kneeling between your legs, his ropey thighs spread wide under yours…

“Are you ready for that, my love?” he pauses until you nod almost imperceptibly; you squeak as he suddenly hauls you down the bed, hips onto his lap, your pelvis now higher than your head upon the sheets. Your stockings unfurling down your legs where he quickly plucks at the ribbons holding them aloft.

“Good, because I am more than ready for you,” it almost sounds like a warning.

Then, with a solid thrust, he spears into your body, the invasion toe-curling, your fingers grasping his muscular forearms that are clamped around your waist. It is a primal position, and he begins to thrust with no mercy, his cock feeling huge and heavy, a strong weight that drags heavily over your walls as your pussy clings to him. Your eyes flutter closed as you whimper his name, powerless to do anything but take his thrusts, draped across his lap as you are.

“Look at me,” he demands raggedly. And you do, his handsome face contorted with effort as he slams into you, a little bead of sweat forming on his brow. “Look at me while I fuck a baby into you, wife.”

He’s never spoken to you like this before, clipped, harsh. It seems appropriate that he would be almost desperate in an act so elemental, so of the earth—to create life. Stoking a fire deep in your core that is a clarion call for him, a frisson running over your skin at the idea you are being impregnated. Bred.

You know neither of you will last long with this almost frenzied coupling, the tendrils of your arousal already swirling so soon after your last, his near-brutish handling precisely what you need, your swollen pearl slammed into his flat abdomen with every stroke he takes. The sheets roll under your shoulder blades as he keeps the same position, your hips high, a mounting that you cannot and do not want to escape, knowing he is leaving fingertip bruises around the dip of your waist, marks you will carry secretly with pride just for him.

You moan his name, so close again to that ephemeral bliss, thrashing your head from side to side as if willing the pleasure to break and wash over you.

“Come on, come for me, milk me, darling. Take what you need, take my seed,” his voice a deep wrecked purr, the lines of his body tense, craving release as much as you.

That command is what breaks the dam for you, an almost violent ricochet fanning out from where you clench around him, his cries muffled behind the rushing noise in your ears, every part of you convulsing in a pleasurable wave. And then, in a floating haze, for the very first time, you feel your husband come inside you, a warm bloom that coats your walls. It's an intoxicating feeling; you never want him to come anywhere else ever again.

“That's it, well done, my love,” he croons, eyes still shut as he shudders with little aftershocks, not leaving your body—as if he wants to stay inside you always.

——

As the embers in the fireplace glow white, you lay in post-coital bliss, bodies dewy from exertion. Benedict rests his head upon your stomach as you card your fingers leisurely through his hair.

“Do you believe we may have made a baby, darling?” he hums, pressing his ear to your belly button as if listening for a heartbeat.

“I am certain of it, husband; you were so very thorough with your attentions,” you assure as he takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “I hope our baby has your face,” you opine.

“Even if it is a girl?!”

“Thou art as pretty as thou art handsome, Mr Bridgerton,” you quip.

He laughs, carefree, crawling behind you and pulling you into a spooned embrace. “Be careful with such provocation, wife; I may not be done with you after all,” he jests idly. “I, on the other hand, hope our child looks like you, even if it is a boy.” he posits, crowding into your back, his lips warm on the shell of your ear.

“Why?” you laugh, frowning, twisting to look back at him.

“So that I may love them as much as I do you,” he breezes nonchalantly as if what he says is not the sweetest thing you can imagine, causing a tart, sudden spike of want through your body, even as you lay sated.

“Be careful, husband,” you volley back, coquettish. “Or I may not yet be done with you.”

There is a sharp, approving intake of breath, and his hand slides low from your belly into the thatch of hair at the apex of your thighs.

“Is that a promise” he rumbles, your gasp loud as his fingers expertly drag against your clit.

“It is whatever you want. Just do not stop,” you rush out, your hand curling around his bicep, feeling a rigid mass slide hot against your bottom. “Again, husband,” you appeal breathily. “Impregnate me again.”

“With pleasure, wife,” he growls, surging into your body with a force that again steals the very breath from your lungs.

The pinkish light dawn is streaking over the ceiling above when you both finally succumb to sleep after many more vigorous attempts at babymaking. The last one, perhaps the most desperate, you pinned against the headboard, him fucking into you so hard from behind that a jagged crack appears, spidering up the wall from where the bedframe slammed into it. A flaw which he steadfastly refuses to get fixed, claiming it to be the most profound art—a souvenir and ode to a momentous night.

——

9 months later

Benedict’s lips mash against your sweaty brow as he keeps lauding you with praise, excitement and pride evident in his every word. You flop back onto the bed, exhaustion deep in your bones, your body turned inside out, hurting in a way you have never known.

But it was all worth it.

What feels like only moments later, in your shattered, addled state, the doctor and nurses depart. Your husband perches on the bed next to you, his face a picture of wonderment. Holding not just one but two bundles of joy in the crooks of his arms. One girl, one boy—fraternal twins.

“My love, we have created the most beautiful creatures on all of this earth,” he attests partisanly, his voice profound with emotion, his eyes pinging from one swaddled face to the other as they sleep soundly.

You shoot him a watery but ironic smile. “I suppose, dear husband, that is what happens when you spend a whole night impregnating me. You succeed twice over.”

His brow raises pointedly, his tongue shooting out to pass over his bottom lip. “Are you suggesting next time around, wife, we keep going for three days straight? So that I may have a brood of eight by the time we are done?” Deploying his bedroom voice that he knows full well makes your knees weak.

“Do not say such things in front of the children!” you chide, swatting his knee where it touches your thigh. “And no, I am not carrying six of your progeny at once; that is simply preposterous!”

“Four?” he petitions with a wink.

You roll your eyes affectionately, settling back into the mound of pillows. “A maximum of two at a time is my final offer, Benedict Bridgerton,” you respond drolly.

“Entirely reasonable,” he chuckles contentedly, dropping a kiss onto each of their foreheads before handing both to you so delicately, as if they are the most precious bundles in the world. 

Which to you both, they are.

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[tulipatheticee]

Could you do Benedict Bridgerton with wife reader? Benedict was stressing about something and playing with his hair to calm them down. Leaving kisses everywhere. You decide how it goes. Fluff and maybe a little suggestive. Thanks!! :))

superman b.b

benedict bridgerton x fem! reader

synopsis; benedict bridgerton, stressed by his artistic pursuits, finds comfort in his wife Y/N's loving support. through tender moments and playful interactions, they reaffirm their deep love, showing how they face life's challenges together.

word count; 2.1k

master list

a/n; this is the benedict fic i had originally planned for labyrinth HAHA i tried my best to fulfill annons request but im not too proud of this one APOLOGIES, it just seems a little black and white to me buttt its still cute icl

as always, kinda proof read, kinda not :p

Tall, dark and beautiful

He's complicated, he's irrational

But I hope someday you take me away and save the day, yeah

Benedict Bridgerton sat at his desk, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. Papers were scattered across the surface, a testament to the hours he had spent trying to make sense of his latest artistic endeavor. His studio, usually a place of inspiration and creativity, felt suffocating tonight. The weight of his expectations pressed heavily on his shoulders, and he couldn't shake the feeling of frustration that gnawed at him.

Y/N, his beloved wife, watched him from the doorway. She could see the tension in his posture, the way his fingers gripped the pen a little too tightly, and the sighs of exasperation that escaped his lips. It pained her to see him like this, so she decided to intervene.

Silently, she walked over to him, her soft footsteps barely making a sound on the wooden floor. She placed her hands gently on his shoulders, feeling the knots of tension beneath her fingers. Benedict started at the unexpected touch, but relaxed slightly when he realized it was Y/N.

"Hey," she whispered softly, her breath warm against his ear. "You've been at this for hours. Why don't you take a break?"

Benedict sighed, leaning back into her touch. "I can't seem to get it right, Y/N. Every stroke feels wrong, every idea seems flat. It's maddening."

Y/N pressed a tender kiss to his temple. "Sometimes, taking a step back can give you a new perspective. Let me help you unwind."

Without waiting for a response, she guided him away from the desk and over to the plush armchair by the window. Benedict sat down heavily, the tension still radiating from his body. Y/N knelt beside him, her fingers threading through his hair with a gentle, soothing motion.

"Close your eyes," she murmured, her voice a balm to his frazzled nerves. "Just focus on my touch."

Benedict obeyed, his eyes fluttering shut as he surrendered to the sensation of her fingers massaging his scalp. Y/N's touch was like magic, each stroke easing the tension from his mind and body. She leaned in, pressing soft kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, the corners of his mouth.

"You're so talented, Benedict," she whispered between kisses. "Don't be so hard on yourself."

Her words were a gentle reminder of her unwavering belief in him, and it brought a small smile to his lips. He reached up, capturing her hand in his, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles.

"You always know how to calm me," he said, his voice a mixture of gratitude and affection.

Y/N smiled, continuing her gentle ministrations. "It's because I love you, and I believe in you. You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone."

Benedict's heart swelled with emotion. He opened his eyes, gazing at her with a tenderness that spoke volumes. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Y/N."

"You'll never have to find out," she replied, her eyes sparkling with love.

She leaned in, capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. It was a kiss filled with reassurance and promise, a reminder that she was there for him, always. Benedict's hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his gratitude and love into the embrace.

When they finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, Y/N rested her forehead against his. "Feeling better?" she asked softly.

Benedict nodded, a genuine smile curving his lips. "Much better. Thank you, my love."

"Anytime," she replied, kissing the tip of his nose. "Now, how about we take a walk outside? A little fresh air might do you some good."

Something in his deep brown eyes has me singing

He's not all bad like his reputation

And I can't hear one single word they said

And you leave, got places to be and I'll be okay

He agreed, and together they stepped out into the cool night air. The stars above twinkled like a promise of better things to come. With Y/N by his side, Benedict felt a renewed sense of hope and inspiration. He knew that no matter the challenges he faced, he would always have her love and support to see him through.

They strolled through the gardens, the moon casting a silver glow on the path ahead. Benedict felt the tension continue to melt away with each step, Y/N's presence grounding him in a way nothing else could. They walked in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other's company.

"I can't imagine doing this without you," Benedict said after a while, his voice thoughtful. "You always know how to bring me back to myself."

Y/N smiled, squeezing his hand. "That's because I know you better than anyone. And I believe in you more than anyone else."

Benedict stopped walking and turned to face her, his eyes shining with emotion. "You mean everything to me, Y/N. I don't say it enough, but I love you more than words can express."

Y/N felt her heart swell with happiness. She reached up, cupping his face in her hands. "I love you too, Benedict. More than anything."

Their lips met in a tender kiss, the world around them fading away. In that moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped in the warmth of their love.

I always forget to tell you I love you

I loved you from the very first day

The next morning, Y/N woke up to find Benedict already out of bed. She stretched and yawned, a smile spreading across her face as she remembered the events of the previous night. She got up and went to find him, curious to see what he was up to.

She found him back in his studio, but this time the air was different. The frustration and tension were gone, replaced by a sense of calm determination. Benedict was working on a new piece, his strokes confident and sure.

Y/N watched him for a moment, admiring the way his focus had returned. She walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, making him look up with a smile.

"Good morning," she said, leaning down to kiss him. "You're up early."

"I couldn't sleep," Benedict admitted, his eyes bright with excitement. "I had this idea and I just had to get it down."

Y/N looked at the canvas, seeing the beginnings of a beautiful painting. "It's wonderful, Benedict. I'm so glad you found your inspiration again."

"Thanks to you," he said, pulling her into his lap. "You're my muse, Y/N. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Y/N laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'm just glad I could help. But remember, you have that talent and drive within you. You just need to believe in yourself."

"I do," Benedict said, his voice filled with conviction. "Because you believe in me."

They shared a kiss, the bond between them stronger than ever. Benedict knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, he would always have Y/N by his side, supporting and loving him. And that made all the difference.

I watch superman fly away

You've got a busy day today

Go save the world I'll be around

Later that day, Benedict and Y/N decided to take a break from their respective pursuits and spend some quality time together. They packed a picnic basket and headed to their favorite spot in the countryside, a secluded meadow surrounded by wildflowers.

As they spread out a blanket and settled down, Benedict couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment. The stresses of the world seemed so far away, and he cherished the simple pleasure of being with the woman he loved.

They ate, laughed, and talked about everything and nothing, enjoying the rare opportunity to relax and just be. Benedict loved the way Y/N's eyes sparkled when she laughed, the way her hair caught the sunlight, and the sound of her voice.

After they finished eating, Y/N lay back on the blanket, looking up at the sky. Benedict joined her, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at her.

"Do you ever think about the future?" he asked, his voice soft.

Y/N turned her head to look at him, her expression thoughtful. "I do. I think about our future a lot. I imagine us growing old together, still as in love as we are now. Maybe even more."

Benedict smiled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "I like that vision. It sounds perfect."

Y/N took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "Whatever the future holds, as long as we're together, I know it'll be wonderful."

Benedict leaned down to kiss her, a slow, sweet kiss that conveyed all the love he felt for her. "You make everything better, Y/N. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

They lay there for a while longer, basking in the warmth of the sun and the comfort of each other's presence. Benedict felt a sense of peace settle over him, a certainty that no matter what challenges came their way, they would face them together.

Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over their home, Benedict and Y/N prepared for bed. The evening had been perfect, filled with laughter and love, and Benedict couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. He watched Y/N as she brushed her hair, her movements graceful and serene. The sight of her brought a soft smile to his lips.

Benedict walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a tender kiss to her neck. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured against her skin.

And I watch superman fly away

Come back, I'll be with you someday

I'll be right here on the ground

When you come back down

Y/N chuckled softly, leaning back into his embrace. “Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear husband.”

He smiled, nuzzling her neck affectionately. “I’m just stating the truth. You make everything seem brighter.”

Y/N turned in his arms, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of love and amusement. “And you, Benedict Bridgerton, have a way of making me feel cherished.”

He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. “That’s because you are cherished, Y/N. More than you know.”

She reached up, cupping his face in her hands. “I know it because you show me every day. In the little things, the big things, and everything in between.”

Benedict leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, tender kiss. The world outside their embrace ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the love they shared. When they finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers.

“You make me a better man,” he said softly. “With you, I feel like I can conquer anything.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes shimmering with emotion. “And with you, I feel truly loved and supported. Together, we can face anything.”

And I watch you fly around the world

And I hope you don't save some other girl

Don't forget, don't forget about me

They climbed into bed, the weight of the day lifting as they held each other close. The room was filled with a peaceful silence, broken only by the sound of their breathing. Benedict’s hand found its way to Y/N’s hair, his fingers gently threading through the soft strands.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” he asked, his voice a whisper in the quiet room.

Y/N smiled, her eyes closing as she recalled the memory. “How could I forget? You were so serious, trying to hide your curiosity behind that stoic expression.”

Benedict laughed softly. “And you were the one who made me laugh, breaking through my defences with your wit and charm.”

“I knew then that you were someone special,” Y/N said, her voice filled with affection. “And look at us now, married and happier than I ever imagined.”

He kissed her forehead, his heart swelling with love. “I’m grateful for every moment with you, Y/N. You bring so much joy into my life.”

I'm far away but I'll never let you go

I'm lovestruck and looking out the window

They lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing quiet conversation and soft laughter. The connection between them was undeniable, a bond that grew stronger with each passing day. Benedict knew that no matter what challenges they faced, they would always have this—this love, this partnership, this unwavering support.

As they drifted off to sleep, Benedict felt a profound sense of peace. He knew that with Y/N by his side, he could face anything. And that made all the difference.

Don't forget, don't forget where I'll be

Right here

a/npt2; please let me know how you felt about this! im still getting the hang of writing the bridgerton boys but i do my best!

[nikkisheep]

Hi, is part4 the last part or will there be more?

If this is for the series "To Be Alone With You", then no part 4 is not the last part. There will be more. I haven't decided on how many because I am still deciding if the reader will end up with Anthony and if so, there is so much character development that the reader could have. I also kinda want to play around with how the part 4 ended into the next part and how it will affect Anthony when he sees the reader taking his advice.

[unknowntoyou2205]

Diamonds sister pt 2

Y/n groaned as she heard her bedroom door open. After last nights events y/n had spent half the night tossing and turning, unable to get a certain blonde gentleman out of her head. Her mum and sister had thrown questions at her on the ride home and the excitement between them hadn’t gone unnoticed. The excitement the young girl herself felt was also apparent, but y/n refused to show it in fear that it may be thrown back at her.

“Good morning Miss, are you ready to get ready for the day?” Her handmaid smiled.

“Yes I am. Is everyone ready for our visitors today?”

“Yes the chef has prepared sweet treats and tea for this afternoon. They shall not be disappointed.”

“Good.” Y/n smiled, optimistic about today’s agenda.

Y/n opted for y/f/c dress with detail on the shoulder before heading down the stairs to the drawing room where her mother and sister were already sitting, working on their embroidery. Y/n never cared for embroidery, so instead opted to take out her drawing pad, deciding to draw the garden view as she waited for todays visitors. It wasn’t long before the door opened, and Anthony and Benedict arrived in the room.

“Your up early.” Violet stated to her sons with slight dismay.

“Are we the first ones here, how lovely.” Anthony stated, grabbing a biscuit before sitting beside Daphne.

“Perhaps you should make use of your time elsewhere.” Their mother stated.

“I believe y/n would like me to stay, right y/n.” Benedict stated, thinking their usual antics would start.

Y/n went to reply when the door opened once again, and y/ns handmaid opened the door. Violet stood up in anticipation when a figure came close behind her.

Violet watched in awe as her daughter allowed the prince to guide her to a seat away from prying ears. Daphne couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face, despite wanting to advance on the prince herself. Y/n only turned back briefly to smile at them before turning her attention to the prince as he accepted the lemonade from the handmaid and offered one to her. She nodded her head in thanks before taking a delicate sip.

“A visitor for Miss Bridgerton.” The woman spoke out and the figure stepped into the room.

“Price Fredrich, good afternoon.” Violet nodded, indicating for her children to stand up to greet him.

“Your highness.” Daphne stated as she curtsied and bowed her head.

“Good afternoon Lady Bridgerton, I have come to call on one of your daughters.”

“And which one may that be.” Anthony called from his position.

“Miss y/n.” The royal stated, looking at the second oldest daughter of the family.

“I believe you should like to go Benedict.” Y/n muttered to her brother.

“I believe I should most certainly like to stay,” Benedict replied quickly, not taking his eyes off the prince in front of them.

“Now Benedict.” Y/n stated to him before stepping towards the prince with her mother.

“Can I offer you some light refreshment?” Violet asked their visitor as Benedict left the room.

“I would love some. Perhaps some lemonade, and for miss Bridgerton?” Fredrich looked at y/n, expecting an answer.

“The same please.” Y/n spoke with a smile, before accepting the princes outstretched hand.

The two sat in silence, enjoying each other’s company under the watchful gaze of her family. A smile remained on each of their faces before the door opened once again and miss came through.

“So, what do you like to do, tell me more about you?” Fredrich smiled, leaning closer to the girl in front of him to listen.

“Well, I like to draw, I find you can capture anything with a pencil and page. I suppose that’s not a typical hobby of a woman but I find it so refreshing that I could just draw for hours, often with my dear brother Benedict.” Y/n stated, smiling fondly.

“I admire that. Would you be close with your siblings?” Frendrich asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yes I like to think that we are. I enjoy being with my youngest two, Hyacinth and Gregory, there so sweet. Do you have any siblings yourself?” Y/n asked, intrigued to learn more about her suitor.

“Unfortunately I am an only child, but I hope to have my own family someday, possibly many. Do you want children some day?” The blonde man asked the woman in front of him, not missing how her smile disappeared to sadness.

“I would love to have my own but the thoughts of having them terrify me after what my dear Mama went through with Hyacinth.” Y/n spoke sadly, remembering the screams of her mother and how she family nearly became orphans.

“I am sorry I asked.” Prince Frendrich stated, placing a hand on y/n’s in comfort.

“It’s ok. Maybe with the right guy I will have my dream, and my fear may be placed at ease.” Y/n stated, her mouth twitching with a smile.

“Perhaps, I may be that guy.” The prince dared to say, moving a hand under y/n’s chin to move her head up.

“Perhaps.” Y/n spoke, smiling at the thought.

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

“Another visitor, for Miss Bridgerton.” This time she looked at Daphne and y/n sighed, knowing the time with the prince had come to an end.

“Perhaps we shall pomegrade tomorrow.” Prince Fredrich offered, wanting to spend more time with the Bridgerton in front of her.

“I would like that.” Y/n announced, nodding her head in agreement.

“Until tomorrow.” Prince Fredrich took y/n’s hand and brought it up, kissing it delicately.

“Until tomorrow.” y/n smiled shyly, watching as the prince moved to say his goodbyes to her mother and brother.

The following days followed with y/n and Fredrich spending many hours together. Benedict had taken it upon himself  to escort his sister to these meetings, despite his sisters disagreement, and the prince was starting to grow on him. Seeing how his sister smiled around thig guy made Benedict realize that maybe his sister meeting with this guy wasn’t a bad idea. The relationship between brother and sister were remarkable, but Benedict would be willing to leave the prince be if it made y/n happy. And it would appear that he made y/n very happy.

Y/n had found herself falling for the royal she had been spending so much time with these past few weeks. Each ball lead to a new dance, and each day lead to a new Pomerado around, getting to know each other more and more. The more time spent with the prince, the more y/n thought that maybe he could be the one. Maybe he was the one she would marry and make her feel safe and secure with herself, much like her father had been for her mother. And the prince, well, he was seeing the Bridgerton girl in a new light.

Today was no different. Y/n had arrived back from a boat ride with the prince ,and was now in a carriage towards the ball of the night, one that was being held by the her sister. Since Daphnes marriage things had been a spiral of emotions for the Bridgerton family, yet the giddiness that y/n felt for tonight was something that did not go unnoticed. Violet watched her daughter with happiness as she glowed. With Daphne now engaged to the duke, Violet hoped that maybe there would be another love story for the Bridgerton family.

The carriage came to a stop and y/n allowed her mother to get out before she herself stood up and exited the carriage. Looking at the entrance in awe, she couldn’t help but smile as she seen the familiar blonde hair standing with the Queen at the back of the hall. Smiles were exchanged as the prince caught sight of the Bridgerton clan walking into the ball, and took no time to start making her way down to them. Ignoring the mothers and daughters who swarmed him, he made his way over to y/n and nodded his head in greeting as the mother daughter duo turned to face him.

Y/n smiled at the Prince as they prepared to dance. Allowing the royal to lead her around the floor, y/n couldn’t help the slight giggle that came out of her mouth. Her giggle made the prince in turn smile as he twirled his dance partner around.

“Good evening ladies, I hope you are well.” He spoke to the two.

“Good evening your highness. We are very well.” Violet spoke for the two of them as they curtsied to him.

“Would it be too much to ask for a dance with your lovely daughter.” He asked, offering his hand out out to y/n.

“Please enjoy.” Violet confirmed, watching with pride as the prince kissed her daughters hand before leading her to the floor.

“Perhaps there may be another Bridgerton wedding in the horising.” Simon spoke beside his mother in law.

“One can only hope.” Violet stated, hoping the best would come for her daughter.

The prince stepped away from her and fiddled with his pocket before bringing out a small velvet box. Y/n watched in shock as the attention of others became apparent. Violet grabbed bEnedicts arm as she watched with hope.

“I hope you are enjoying your night.” Prince Fredrich stated as they danced around the room. Her back to his chest.

“Very much.” Y/n nodded.

“Y/n, I hope I am not overstepping when I say but, I enjoy our time together.”

“I enjoy our time together too.” Y/n smiled.

“And I hope you wouldn’t be opposed to spending more time together.” The prince asked, twirling her around once more.

“I was hoping we would.” Y/n smiled, glancing over her shoulder at him.

“Perhaps you would do me the honour of spending the rest of our time on this earth together.” The prince asked, causing y/n to look at him in shock.

“Your highness, what are you saying.” Y/n asked, turning to him as the music stopped.

Unable to hold her excitement, Violet rushed towards her daughter and pulled her into a hug.

“Y/n Bridgerton, would you do me the honour of becoming my princess, my wife.” Fredrich asked, opening the box to show a ring held delicately with a small coushin.

“I would love to.” Y/n spoke happily, allowing him to pull her in a hug.

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

“You are to be married dearest.” Violet stated, and y/n smiled excitedly.

“I got it mama, I got my dream.”

“We better watch out with royalty in our house.” Benedict teased causing y/n to chock in tears.

The wedding was everything y/n could of ever dreamed off. Prince Fredrich wanted the day to be everything his bride had ever imagined, and went above and beyond to make sure her dreams became a reality. It was fit for a princess, which was what Miss y/n Bridgerton would now be called. Violet was beaming for joy as she watched her second daughter walk down the aisle with her second oldest. Benedict couldn’t help the smile on his face as he walked his sister to her new family, having cried after y/n had asked him to step in what should have been their fathers job. Daphne held her husbands arm in delight watching her twin get married. The Queen herself couldn’t help but show a slight smile, even if only for a brief second.

The night itself was magical and fit for royalty. Y/n danced with her husband under the night stars, outside in the Queens garden. United as one, y/n couldn’t wait to live her newfound life. Princess y/n of Prussia, dawning a ring that belonged to her majesty the Queen on her finger, vowed to spend entirely with her new love, the prince of Prussia.