#ben bridgerton x reader

[cuddlemen0w]

the gentleman and the flower — prologue | benedict bridgerton x reader (oc)

Summary: She never thought she would have such an opportunity. Lady Jenkins, her aunt, wanted to give the girl a proper welcome to society, that is what she said. A month in London, a month away from her chores and her home. Although she loved it there, she did want to know how it’s like wearing a fancy dress, drinking expensive sweet tasting lemonade and dancing with a gentleman. That thought alone was all it took for her to decide. She will go to London with lady Jenkins and her husband.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: You know what I'M BACK! This came to me a few days ago and I’ve been daydreaming about it ever since. Now, I do study English as my major at uni but it’s still not my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes I might make. I hope you like this one, as it’s a little different from the actual Bridgerton plot. It is a little bit of a twist to the Cinderella trope that Benedict’s story has. I was inspired by the Sense and Sensibility limited series and other works by Jane Austen as I deeply love her writing. Also yes, the name Jenkins is from Howl’s Moving Castle! :)

masterlist

Prologue

Benedict Bridgerton is not looking for a wife. It was quite clearly established that his brother, the viscount Anthony Bridgerton, was looking for his viscountess. So why on earth are there at least five mamas and even more young debutantes looking at him with such hungry eyes? Benedict knew he was an eligible bachelor, but he had hoped that this season he could be spared from women, the ones he did not seek, waiting for the slightest of glances from him just to march up to him and bat their sickeningly sweet eyes at him. He would dread these balls just for this reason alone, had they not been so horribly boring.

He sighed into his drink as his brother approached him by the refreshments. “They keep looking at me like I’m meat at the butcher’s,” Anthony whispered as he took his brother’s glass and gulped it in one go. “Hey! I was drinking that,” Benedict protested, “But I think Eloise is having it worse. Mama won’t let go of her arm.” The brothers glanced at their mother and sister and chuckled when they saw how Eloise turned down yet another gentleman. “Mama is going to force her onto one of us soon if she keeps this up,” Benedict snickered.

“What a wonderful idea, I might just go and take Eloise right from mama’s hands,” Anthony’s eyes brightened as he thrust Benedict’s empty glass back to him and left him to do whatever he was doing before he came over to complain.

“As if that is going to help him,” Benedict mumbled to himself as he inspected the glass. Not a single last drop. He should have sneaked in a bigger flask. And so he sighed again and picked a lemonade.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖

Her family wasn’t poor by any means. She had her own room, they had a horse and two cows, a few sheep, chickens, ducks and most importantly they had each other. Y/N only ever saw it that way. As a small child, she often heard her parents talk about how much they loved their life this way, and she never questioned what they meant. But as she got older she understood.

Her father was the third son of lord Jenkins. The lord was a good standing gentleman, who prided himself in having the perfect family, with two of his eldest sons marrying ladies from two of the wealthiest families at the time. He was fortunate enough to attend the King’s hunt before the Palace’s doors shut and he hoped that one day one of his descendants would attend the next King’s hunt as well. But it had seemed that all his pride and all his dreams were thrown away by his third son, Robert Jenkins, when he fell in love.

Adelaine Brown was a maid at Berkeley street in Mayfair, at the house Robert’s eldest brother, James, resided with his wife.

Adelaine and Robert first met when she was nineteen and cleaning dust at the library. Robert was twenty six then and had enough of his brother pestering him about marriage and duty. So he took the opportunity when an important letter came in and fled to the other room. They became fast friends when Robert helped her with her dusting and soon they became lovers. And when Adelaine came to him that she was with child he secretly married her in her coastal hometown in Scotland when he was twenty seven and she was twenty.

Robert hoped his father and brothers would understand, but instead the lord cast him out and his eldest brother laughed while it was happening. “Horrible maid, never did her job right. You two suit well though,” James sneered and threw Robert’s last things out of the door.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖

Their little blessing came at night. She screamed and cried until the morning but as the sun grazed the horizon and licked the waves the baby fell asleep. It was then that they named her. Adie softly whispered her name over and over and Rob felt at peace.

Y/N loved the animals even as a little babe. She would giggle at them when her father held her as her mother milked the cow. Robert would look at his two flowers and smile with his eyes. “You will get wrinkles like that,” Adelaine chuckled as she came over to them.

“I want all of my wrinkles because of you,” Robert mused and brought her closer. “In fact, I hope you get wrinkles because of me too.”

Adelaine laughed loudly, her head thrown back and her nose scrunching. “There it is. You laugh the same.” Robert pointed to the baby in his arms, giggling as always.

And that was how it was for some time.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖

“Love, the porridge isn’t going to eat itself,” scolded Adelaine. She had a few, almost unnoticeable wrinkles around her nose. Robert only hummed in response.

“Pa,” Y/N tried as she passed her mother another dish to wipe clean, “your breakfast is getting cold.” That seemed to get him to listen. The crows feet next to his eyes looked deeper, bigger, when he was concerned. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Robbie,” Adelaine asked gently. She finished wiping the dish clean and put her hands to her hips. “Is it about that letter that came in? Is it bad?” A pause. “Rob.”

“The old man’s dead.” Silence.

“Who is, pa.”

“Old Jenkins, the son of a bi–” Adelaine cut him off, “Rob! Don’t talk like that in front of your breakfast.” She glanced at their daughter who had a sheepish smile on her face. “And your daughter, for that matter.” Y/N sent her mother a thankful look. She wanted to hide behind the lock of hair that fell out of her pea green scarf.

“He left us nothing. I mean, I knew he would,” Robert said. “And so what, he was a horrible man and even a worse father,” Adelaine cut him off again.

“Adie, let me finish.” The women shared a look, but listened. Robert reached his rough hand into his vest pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. “He also gave James, my eldest brother, nothing.” He unfolded the paper and let it lay on the wooden table. There it was, black on white, before them.

Fate is a funny thing. It finds its way into everyone’s life, whether they want it or not. It is nature's way of justice and it is a higher power that no one can alter. And fate had taken her justice on the late lord Jenkins when he found his eldest son fornicating with his maid in his own house. He saw his son for who he was two weeks before his passing, and in that time he managed to rewrite his last will. He took him off completely, as he had done to his youngest son, for the lord was a man of his word.

“Now, David is the new lord Jenkins and he wants us to go back.”

Adelaine raised her brow at her husband. “You are not considering this, are you?” He said nothing. “Robert, we are not going back.”

“We are not going back,” the man of the house agreed wholeheartedly. “But I believe he is genuine.”

Y/N mother’s nose flared, steam almost coming out. “Y/N, love, please go outside and feed the chicks.”

“But I’ve already–” “No but, go!” Y/N had never heard or seen her mother so angry, so to not be the target of her mother’s fury, she scurried away to the hallway and closed the door after herself. Her hand reached for the basked for the seeds, although it was empty, as she did feed the chickens earlier that morning. Her hand stilled. The raised voices of her parents echoed from the kitchen.

She was not used to this. Her parents, gentle and loving, only ever argued in hushed tones, never did they go to bed angry at each other, and never did they raise their voice, at anyone. She didn’t hear much, they were arguing over each other. It was pointless to listen, so she grabbed the basket and hurried outside. But, before the girl could step out she heard her mother, loud and clear. “They called my daughter a bastard.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. Her usually bright and cheerful eyes stung with ushered tears. Not for her, but for her mother. She knew who her parents were, before their life in the countryside, before they moved to the coast. She knew her mother thought she brought this upon Robert. But he always promised his heart was here, with them, and he would not want it any other way. They were happy. But she knew they were also sad. Sad that they could never show their face in London, where all their friends were, where her father’s family was. Sad that something was stolen from them. Maybe a better, more comfortable life, or opportunities for their daughter. But they hid it well, their sadness was only reserved for cold nights, when all three would have to huddle to stay warm, even though their modest fireplace was blazing its flames.

“James and my father did, never David,” Robert calmly replied, his tears unseen by his daughter.

“I want to believe you,” Adelaine cried. “But they all think that I am a wh–” the interruption was quick and gentle. Robert took her in his arms, his lips at the crown of her head, whispering, “Don’t say that. It’s not true.” Repeating it over and over again. It was then that Y/N burst through the door, the basket forgotten on the floor in the hallway. Her father took them both into his arms and whispered sweetly. “My flowers. My petals.”

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖

They didn’t talk about it. Not for a week. They went on with their lives as they were before that unfortunate morning. Y/N fed the animals, her mother milked the cow and her father tended to their garden and field.

They lived near a cliff, and they had the perfect view of the sea right from their windows. The waves looked like they were filling up the glass from certain angles and Y/N liked to watch it every morning, right after sunrise. She sat with her head resting on her forearms, her breakfast still hot next to her elbow.

She blinked from the sunlight and in that moment she saw a carriage, carried by two horses. As it neared, the realisation struck her, they were heading for their home. “Ma, there’s people outside.”

“Who would be here? At this time of day?” her mother replied nonchalantly, stirring the dough she was making.

Robert came running down the stairs, looking at his two girls, beaming. “I told you they were genuine!” he looked like a young child as he said it, almost too happy. “It’s David and his wife.”

[cryptfile]

⋆౨ৎ˚ ࣪ over the moon [ benedict bridgerton x wife!reader ]

summary — based on a request but went slightly off with it aka when your husband starts to stay up painting till late you start plotting a good plan to make him go to bed with you and actually rest instead.

warnings — pure fluff, since the rumors of sophie being latina sparked, personally went crazy with the information so it’s implied that reader is latina also, mentions of sex (nothing explicit,,, implied as part of a establish relationship).

side notes — English is not my first language, so if you find any mistakes i’m sorry in advance. this is for my latin girlies out here reading in tumblr, working extra hard to translate your works to bring new content to the page, tkm <3 reblogs, comments and likes are much appreciated,,,as brittany broski once said: i'm a benedict bridgerton believer, i'm a benedict bridgerton ally.

You really didn’t know what you were getting into when you accepted Benedict’s marriage proposal.

Nobody told you that loving an artist is a tricky thing, cause while you’re always giving Ben’s new ideas, you hate him at the same time when he’s at the art studio until late, painting as if the absence of light it’s not enough to separate him from the canvas.

God, it just drives you crazy. He lacks of a schedule so he’s able to keep on painting till the rays of light start to appear again in the window he leaves opened all night long, and you’re afraid he’s going to catch a cold if he continues with his bad habits.

It suddenly hits him, that inspiration he ends up being the victim of, kissing you quickly as he escapes so fast you aren’t able to say anything when he disappears leaving you alone, you tolerate it at first, but the second? The third? He's just testing your patience at this point.

Your marriage has never been a troubled one, your husband does not make you mad most of the time and you enjoy being in love, those little things that made your heart skip a beat. You enjoy talking to him at night, spend your day in his art room as he encourages you to keep on writing that mystery book you're so into lately, bickering about how unfair life is for women your age — Hell, woman of all ages.

You love the sound of his laugh when he's careless about everything else, when he admits he doesn't want to go that night's party cause he just wants to stay home and fuck you senseless, his way of seeing art and explain it to you as something totally opposite as what you really think it is.

Thing is, you choose to marry Benedict Bridgerton cause you're indeed, head over heels with him. You've fall for the charming smile and sassy attitude that made you finally settle after years of being called a spinster. He finds the way to intrude the walls of the maze that was your heart and managed to plant a flag in the middle of it when you're confident enough to talk to him, let alone be seen in public after all the rumors you've heard that he was looking for a wife that season.

Even when you try to avoid him, he makes you fall in no time, following you around like a lost puppy, going to your house to spend time with your family, convincing everyone he's desperate to try the food your nana makes, cause you've talked about how good it taste all the time.

It's almost like he tricked you into make you love him, to have you between the brushes dipped in a funny smell water. He has you hooked by the first months and soon after? God, he has no education when he makes you love him, how he obliges you to stain yourself with all the things he was his daily life mixed with yours functioning so well.

It's a thorn nailed in the palm of your hand, those moments of privacy when the moon evolves you and your lover completely that are now being taken away. It's selfish, surely it's something childish so you don't want to say anything to your friends, or even Daphne Basset when she visits you to have an afternoon of tea free from her kids, asking you about how everything's going days before you came up with this great idea.

You can take the matter by your hands, that's why the next time Benedict's painting at midnight your mind works like a machine.

After all the time together you happen to know him more than you know yourself, the things he enjoys what he dislikes the most — So it's not very hard to plot against your husband.

Benedict doesn't seem to hear you when you silently glide through the half-open door, unaware as the light of the candle lights is not enough to illuminate the whole room, the fire he kept close to the canvas he was currently working on. He looks handsome all concentrated. His brows furrowed as he takes the pigments with his bare hands and mix them in his wood palette to get that exact color he was looking for. A shade of pink for a piece he hasn't shown you officially yet.

"What are you doing up so late?" you ask coyly when you are close to him, hearing how his breath hitched for a second before noticing it's you, your hands coming from behind just to intrude in his space close to the easel. He's taller than you, but it doesn't stop you from standing in your tiptoes, pressing your cheek against the crook of his neck as you hugged him.

You cannot hide that you're tired. You lost the track of time when you got out of bed, so when you have your husband close and finally smell that nice and subtle aroma he carries with him, you relax in his back, the sound of his heartbeat loud against your ear.

"You scared me for a second," he says with a grin, muscles relaxing under your touch. "Didn't hear you coming in."

He has dry paint on his neck, so while you're cleaning his skin with one hand, he leans into you, back pressed against your chest seeking for your warmth, that contact he always seems to enjoy, your attention in all the ways he can get it.

“Bed’s cold without you” you say, fingers on his recently trimmed hair. "Done waiting for'you."

He has the nerve to laugh at your words, slowly at first, the sound of it making your skin shiver. He's going to defend his choices, you know it, and you hate how much you enjoy it, the way he always seems to find an excuse making you totally offended as you retort something equally ridiculous.

"Just thirty more minutes I promise," he says pressing a kiss in the palm of your hand he so gently grabs. "If you stay with me like this, can do the work in twenty."

"You can fool anyone else with that Ben, not buying it" to be honest, you're just trying to contradict everything he says, far from what you thought doing first when you plotted against him. "You said the same last week, amor. Not falling for any more lies."

"Not falling huh?" he asks, lowering the wood palette to look at you, his eyes meeting yours when you're so comfortable pressing your chin on his shoulder, looking at the painting he was doing — "You've learned the lesson then?"

"Twenty more minutes mean an hour in Benedict's language," he's the one that's now offended when his mouth opens in disbelief "Turns out I know my husband, and we both know that’s way more than twenty minutes.”

He loves it. It’s almost a secret, but he loves how you demand his company, the way you don’t fold against anything and you stand for what you believe. He loves how you claim to know him, your lavender smell filling every single space available in the room as he smiles happily in response. He was so unsure of marrying you at first, but now he doesn’t know what his life would look like without you in the picture.

“Ah, I’m guilty as charge” he says, his own hand going to his chest like it saddens him to hear you talk like that. “Thought you wanted me to paint more.”

You've been encouraging him to show his art to more people, a small gallery that displayed his talent, but that’s using your words for his advantage.

“You little bastard, that’s unfair coming from you.”

“Woah woah, you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Kiss you even” you stick your tongue out, and he’s suddenly turning you around to place a kiss in your forehead, making you move in front of him instead — “You wouldn’t even imagine.”

Benedict’s a romantic. A poet at heart, so he doesn’t let any opportunity slip to show his affection, his infinite devotion to you. His heart flutters in his chest and suddenly he’s kissing you, staining your white nightgown with the fresh paint of his hands and not caring about it at the slightest. Kisses you like he missed you, like he didn’t see you the whole day when in reality you’ve spent all day in the same house, baking cookies cause you’ve suffered from a burst of love to the kitchen.

“You’re not convincing me” you say between kisses, hands pressing you closer to him. “I’m not leaving this room without you.”

He chuckles at your words — “Not even ten minutes?”

He’s devastatingly handsome in a way that makes you stare at him, wonder what you did to make him so interested in you, so attracted to the point he has to marry you.

"No Bridgerton. Ni diez minutos." To be honest, the accent just makes him go weak at the spot. It's pathetic, but he cannot help it, his brain melts at the sound of your voice, even if he doesn't understand much of what you're saying. "Let's go to bed."

You know it's a weapon, your lips are on his face, and he forgets about everything else: How he's supposed to continue on working when your lips are kissing every inch of his face? Seems like an impossible task now that his hands are on your waist and all he can notice are your pink lips, how you're looking at him through half-lidded eyes cause you're sleepy, an smile that eclipses the rest.

Benedict's no longer worried of his painting. Hell, he cannot seem to remember what shade of pink he was so invested in finding before, but he don't care at all when he's the one now leaning in, kissing you with fervent love as he traces the outline of your lips, almost asking for permission to invade you before deepening the contact, tangling his fingers in the strands of your hair cause he simply cannot get enough from you.

"Take me to bed then, my beautiful wife."

He does not protest next. He loves every second of it, the slight force, your gentle touch when your guiding him through the cottage you two share in Wiltshire, the goosebumps in his own skin when you managed to get what you want.

You win. It's a war that Benedict never intended to win, a disaster he knew it would end up with the result of him leaving his work half done cause he cannot resist to the idea of being tangled with you in such an intimate way. He sleeps so well with you on his arms, burying his head on your hair as he relaxes beneath the sheets, the contact of your skin enough to make him have the best night sleep.

Can he resist it? He's neck deep. Talked about it with his brothers before, drinking too much as the words slurred together and he admits how you got him wrapped around your finger, so in love he would do anything to please you, let alone have your full attention — They surely made fun of him, but is it his fault? Being so in love with his wife?

"Can't say no to you," he says defeated "You know it."

In the privacy of the room you two share, you're washing his hands with a wet cloth, preventing him from getting the sheets dirty before pulling his linen shirt to the floor. It's so quickly, he don't seem to realize what you're doing until he's already in bed, covered with the thick duvet as he searches for you.

He realizes now he should have listened to you before, cause his back is surely happy now that he's able to rest, the weariness of being standing so many hours now falling over him as his eyes began to close by themselves.

"When are you going to stop working so late?" You ask, pressing your cheek against his chest as you hugged him, getting closer to him even when you stole more than half of the bed in the process. The second son of the Bridgerton family does not say anything about it, but instead, enjoys how needy you are of his touch, how you want him around.

"Inspiration always come late, angel" he tries to defend himself as you rolled your eyes. “Maybe it’s a curse.”

"Then i’m afraid i’ll have to drag you to bed every night," you protest. "Cause i'm not letting you stay all night in that studio, crazy man."

"Miss me too much in bed?"

"Hm, what if I do?"

"Cannot blame you," Benedict admits later, using the only traces of force he has left to caress your hair, fingertips against your scalp in a gentle massage. "I'm always missing you when you're not around."

Your heart skips a beat: How could you not be head over heels with this man? He always find the right words, what to say exactly.

Gently, your face come up to press a soft kiss against his lips, a quick one that’s not enough for Benedict when he makes you stay in the same position as he steals a much longer one.

Life is simple with him by your side, you know it cause you might as well be over the moon when you’re alone with Benedict Bridgerton.

Every. single. day.

my masterlist.

[fantasydreamland]

Benedict Bridgerton

[stargazineyes]

MASQUEARDE BALL MENTIONED

MY LOVE BENEDICT IS NEXT

[onlybeeewrites]

If you decide to write for Bridgerton, can you write something for Benedict? Maybe like friends to lovers or something x

The Muse

Requested: By anon

Warnings: nothing just pining

Painting: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!reader

Request: If you decide to write for Bridgerton, can you write something for Benedict? Maybe friends to lovers or something

Authors Note: I beg for forgiveness that it has taken me so long to get to this. I had insane writers block, then university hit like a truck and had to put writing on hold. But I have returned and I loved this request. I am currently rewatching Brigderton after watching Queen Charlotte so I hope this to your liking. So sorry again, love <3

—————————————————————————————

You had grow up beside the Bridgerton Household your entire life—to the estate beside theirs at least. Your father’s had been quite good friends, and as your parents began with their families the relationship between the two had grown. This has allowed you to have direct access to the household since you could even remember. Your were at the young age of four and twenty, just a few years older than the eldest Bridgerton daughter, but still a few years younger than the second eldest Bridgerton who also just so happened to be your closest companion.

You remembered the first time you had met the boy, or at least remembered meeting him. You were but about six years of age, and Benedict was ten. Your mother had dragged you over to the house as she more often did to have tea with the Viscountess Bridgerton as they did more often than not. It was in their tea room where you were interacting with Colin when Benedict had come in rather excitedly to show his mother a drawing he had made. You could remember her cooing her second eldest son, praising his rather interesting art piece. Curiously you had glanced over, interested with all the paint colors and such. Benedict had noticed your curiosity and offered for you to have a closer look. From then on whenever you had come over you had eagerly awaited to see what Benedict had created next.

This little routine continued as you all got older. Of course after the passing of their Father, there was more comfort and reassurance whenever you had visited. Though, even in a time of such great sorrow, Benedict had portrayed that emotion within his paintings and drawings. You had been the one to support him and aid him in any such way possible.

As time continued, the two of your had grown closer. Of course you had grown closer with all the Bridgerton siblings, Benedict was the one you were closest with. The one you could also scope out at balls if you needed to escape another dreadfully boring dance partner, or an attempted suitor that was twice your age. Of course your father was there to ensure nothing of the sort would occur, but there would be times where Benedict was simply closer and much better at conversation.

Often Lady Whistledown commented on the you both, sometimes a bit too often. There would be whispers about you both, how often you dance with each other at balls or are seen giggling a bit tipsy with each other in the corners. Most of the time it had not bother you—when you were younger at least. Though as you blossomed and grew into yourself, you also were able to recognize your feelings. You believed it was around ten and six when you had realized you were doomed. That you had fallen completely in love with Benedict. It was not something you liked to think about nor dwell on for too long. Why would he, a Bridgerton, a most handsome, talented, funny, charming man like himself even think about courting you?

It was not that you felt like you were unattractive in some sort of way, you were rather pretty. But it was the fact that you were best friends with Benedict that caused you to think this way. There was a chance of him not returning those feelings. There was a chance that he would laugh in your face assuming it was a joke. There was a chance of him scoffing in your face and cutting you and your friendship off completely.

There was no chance that you would even consider taking that risk—no matter how often Daphne or hell, even Elouise would reassure you that he had returned those feelings to you.

Though one afternoon, you sat with him in the Bridgerton’s drawing room. You had been having some tea that Rose had gotten for you while Benedict drew. He drew with his charcoaled that made his long fingers turning an odd shade of black within his drawing pad. You had always admired the way he looked to serious when he drew. His eyebrows furrowed, causing wrinkles to cover his forehead. He also had this habit of tilting his head; you assumed it was to get a different angle on whatever his latest creations was. But your most favorite thing was when he would be stuck on something. Maybe it was because he could not draw it correctly, or the art was not coming out the way he wanted it to. But once he figures it out, or it comes out the way that he had wanted and the ways his eyes lit up with pride and eureka was your absolute favorite.

“what is it you are drawing today?” You asked, lifting the fragile porcelain to your lips as you take a small sip of the warm tea. Your eyes flicker from your cup to the Bridgerton across from you. And just in time too because was already looking at you. His body tensed slightly before he attempted to play it off.

“Nothing you must worry your head about,” he said in a teasing tone, as he most often did. But he was just trying to play it off when in reality it was you. He was drawing you, in your beautiful soft green dress, your hair done up into a neat braid to keep from your beautiful face. You looked stunning and he wanted to capture it like he had done many time before.

It was always you that he drew, especially when you plagued his thoughts in the late. Hours. Oh if you only knew that you were his muse. The very figure and image of you filled pages and pages of his work. Two of the things he loves most wrapped into one. But what if you were to find out? You would never return and that would break his heart. He was so in love with you it ached to not be able to hold you, kiss you when he wanted. He felt this especially at balls and suitors would come up to your constantly, it made his blood boil. But he had hoped he kept it well hidden. Well, enough to keep it from you. His family on the other hand seemed to know or notice it for quite sometime. According to his mother, both of your mother’s knew of it. Everyone seem to know. Everyone but you.

Too busy in his thoughts, he did not feel the dip in the sofa until it was too late. You had seated yourself right next to him with a small huff as you tried to peak at this new creation before he was able to hide it. But he managed, which caused you to pout slightly. Of those lips…he wanted nothing more to cup your face and kiss you right then and there.

“Benedict. You always show me your drawings,” you had insisted, which just caused the other to shake his head.

“Nonsense. There are plenty of work that you have not seen. Besides it is no good anyways, there is no point in showing it off if it is no good.” He said, giving his best friend a look. This only made you want to see more. “you always saw your work is no good and it is always beautiful. Let me see, please?” You pleaded as you took hold of a part of his drawing pad. There was some back and forth, some ‘no’s’ and ‘oh please’ as you both struggled to take proper hold of the pad.

Eventually his hands slipped and lost its grip on the pad, landing it right into your smaller grasp. “ha! I have got it now. Now, let us see what you have been working so hard on,” you tease before looking at the drawing Benedict had been working so hard on. It was a lady, a rather beautiful one. But the longer you looked, the more you realized that this lady in the charcoal had the same features as you. the same face shape, body type, hair—even the little scar that was right on the bridge of your nose that you had gotten as a child. And you face began to redden as you slowly looked towards Benedict. “Are…is this of me?” You ask in wonder, amazement and without a single sound of disgust or hated—this reassures Benedict a bit more at least.

He nods and before he could utter another word, you flip through pages; more drawings of you. “You make me look beautiful..” you say in wonder and this causes Benedict to furrow his eyebrows once more but not in concentration but confusion.

“Because you are beautiful. I draw what I see and what I see from you is…” he stopped himself from speaking another word, too afraid to come across as too forward. He took a breath, figuring now is a better time than ever. The Bridgerton boy took the drawing pad from your hands and placed it next to him before giving you his full attention. Your face is covered with blush, flustered from this whole thing.

“I suppose now I must explain myself before it comes across strangely. But I do draw you. More times than not because you plague my every waking moment, you have since we were children. You have captured my heart from years and you have refused to return it to me. My dearest friend…..my feelings for you grow into one where I want you by my side forever, not just in my drawings. You are my muse for everything I do and I cannot bear it being another nor you being with anyone else..” he said, “So I suppose-“

You cut him off by leaning forward and giving him a kiss. Your soft ones pressed against his own. It was bold and improper. But his words were moving and your heart would not stop its fluttering. So you had kissed him, hoping no one would see. The kiss was everything you both had imagined it would be like and more.

So once you had pulled away to his surprised but smug reaction, you simply nodded, “Of course, it would be delighted to court you, my dearest. I have been waiting so long for this moment.” You say, still almost not believing that your love was also your best friend.

“I suppose we both were a bit too blind and afraid to admit it, hm?” He chuckled, taking your hands in his, getting a bit of the charcoal onto your hands. You giggle and nod,

“Yes I suppose so. But I also would love to see these other drawings of me that you have mentioned,” you teased him, now making it his turn to blush as he realized what he had admitted.

“Perhaps another time…?” He asked hopefully and you grin mischievously, almost impishly.

“Or perhaps we can give you something else to draw,” you said suggestively continuing to tease him about such thing.

“Oh I quite like the sound of that,” Benedict grinned as he pulled you in for another quick kiss. Perhaps it was a good thing you had seen the drawings after all.

[agent-tempest]

My favorite fanfics!

Loki Friggason [Marvel]

Dancing in the dark (with you between my arms) by @holymultiplefandomsbatman [Fluff]

Paper rings by @cherryrogers [Pure fluff]

Back in your arms by @sarahscribbles [starts angsty but happiest fluffiest ending]

Remus Lupin [Marauders Era]

I don't want them. I want you by @theemporium [Fluff, Marriage, Drunk!Remus]

You are in love by @starstruckmoony [fluff]

Red by @jamespottersdaisy [Banter, fluff]

Gold Rush by @jamespottersdaisy [pure fluff]

Hiccups and hijinks by @dreaminginpastels [Plus-size!Reader, fluff, mutual pining, mentions of insecurity and self-doubt]

Jealous Prof!Reader by @turvi [Fluff, wife!Reader]

Let me help by @jamespottersdaisy [bad mental health, eating disorder?, angst]

Remus saying "I love you" to the for the first time by @theemporium [xReader, pure fluff]

Remus taking care of Drunk!Reader by @theemporium [Potter!Reader, Drunk!Reader, Soft Remus]

Remus being soft only with reader near fullmoons by @lizard-onawindowpane [Pure fluff]

Calm after the storm by @earthgirl616 [enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds]

Pinky Promise by @jamespottersdaisy [Pre and Post Moon!Remus, Remus and reader have a fight]

Our Band Part 1 Part 2 by @wzrd-wheezes [Marauders Band AU, Barista!Reader]

Kaz Brekker [Grishaverse]

Deadly fever by @webslinger-holland [mentions of severe illness, mentions of traumatic childhood, mentions of needles and bloodletting]

Book Club by @rainydaymiscellaneous [fluff, Kaz is in love]

There was this boy... by @mcntsee [Fluff]

Schon by @mcntsee [Kinda ooc Kaz, kaz is ok with y/n’s touch. Stabbing, blood, killing]

Peter Parker [TASM]

Worth Saving by @fettuccin-e [Hurt/Comfort]

Sirius Black [Marauders Era]

I think he knows by @theemporium [potter!reader, fluff, James being a Mood]

Words that slip through by @padfootagain [Fluff, tiny bit of Angst(?)]

For your family by @padfootagain [Fluff, Arrange marriage trope, Soulmate au]

Forced by @sirisuorionblack [Fluff, Arrange Marriage trope, toxic household]

Sirius wants a hug, but doesn't know how to ask by @gtgbabie0 [Fluff, touchstarved Sirius]

Everything has changed by @once-upon-an-imagine [Fluff, Lupin!Reader, Jilly Wedding]

Sirius being jealous of a cat by @theemporium [fluff, jealous!Sirius and *in steve's voice* Language]

A cozy rainy night with Sirius by @theemporium [pure fluff]

James Potter [Marauders era]

Stop flirting with the nurse, it's embarrassing by @perpetuallydaydreaming [Fluff, Siri & Pete being melodramatic]

First Impressions by @jackie5656 [Fluff, Descriptions of assault and attempted assault]

Just to Kiss by @chrryhrt [Frat!James x Reader, Idiots to lovers, friends to lovers, small mention of alcohol]

Regulus Black [Marauders era]

Coward by @sirisuorionblack [Hurt/comfort, Arrange marriage trope, acedemic rivals]

Moon Boys [Moon Knight, Marvel]

Jake Lockley- Cucumber face mask and fist of vengeance by @wysteria-clad [Fluff]

Jack Lockley- dlz by @ichorai [Angst, mild fluff, marriage au]

Marc, Steven and Jake- Clumsy by @marvelsswansong [fluff]

Marc, Steven and Jake- Secret Identities Part 1 Part 2 by @bensolosbluesaber [Fluff, reader is an Avenger]

Benedict Bridgerton [Bridgerton]

Matchmakers by @siempre-bucky [fluff]

Not for him by @iwritefandomimagines [Platonic!Anthony playing matchmaker, Fluff, slight angst]

Second son by @fayes-fics

Druig [Eternals, Marvel]

Druig x Reader by @siempre-bucky [fluff]

Stephen Strange [Marvel]

July 19th by @frostandflamesfanfic [Fluff, Strange being a dad to America]

[tremendouscreationperson]

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x Reader Queen Charlotte Au

You are Charlotte, he is George

There are elements of "magic"/the force, hope it's not awful. I don't usually write for Kylo

It had been months. Almost seven months since you had the pleasure of seeing your husband. You two were an arranged marriage and by all accounts the separation should've been blissful, except it wasn't. You missed him. He was dark and broody but he was kind to you. He treated you with such devotion that you couldn't have stopped the growing feelings.  

Your mind often wandered, imagining what he could possibly be doing. What that slimy advisor Snoke would be forcing him to do. Snoke was ancient and you suspected that had something to do with the dark magic he practised. The man was powerful but nothing compared to Kylo’s potential.

You supported the pursuit of knowledge and would never deprive your husband of his calling however you had told him to steer clear of the dark side. It was basic knowledge, blood magics and dark spells took a toll and you just so happened to enjoy Kylo's company. You would be distraught if anything was to happen to him. 

You'd find out what was going on soon enough. Having ordered Hux to take you to him after you both rolled your eyes at another excuse, both suspicious and annoyed at the blatant lies they were feeding their Queen. Hux, bless him, had tried to get any information he could for you and he had actually become something of a companion in your lonesome months. 

The estate came into view and you had to force your body still. Eager enough to see your King that you could tear the carriage door open and sprint to him. It was a testament to your upbringing that you didn't, instead just bouncing one leg as the horses leisurely trotted up to the entrance. 

Staff had seen you arrive and were waiting to greet their Queen with apprehensive, almost frightened expressions.

Your door was opened and you stepped out of the cart with ease being led a few paces to a man who you vaguely recognised as the King's Secretary. 

“Your Majesty, what a pleasant surprise.” He bowed. “Do forgive us, we weren't expecting company.” 

You were never a fan of this man, he was cold to you (as most were) in the beginning and you couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't looking out for the King's best interest. He cared for the monarchy, yes, but not for Kylo. Perhaps that was why you responded sarcastically, “I didn't realise I needed an invitation to my own estate.

The man’s smile tightened and you could see his jaw flex. “Of course not, shall we prepare some tea to relax you from your long journey?” He gestured to the entrance stairs. 

You shook your head. “I am here for my husband.” 

That visibly changed all of the staff's posture. Everyone stiffened; everyone's eyes widened displaying pity. The man in front of you was no different but he had the unfortunate task of addressing the Queen. “H-he is training at this present moment. I don't think it is wise to-”

“Hux?” You interrupted. “Did we come all this way for tea?” 

“No, your Majesty.” Hux responded. He was just as tired as you. Why were they stalling your meeting? What had become of Kylo during these months? Was he harmed? Was he distant? 

“Then I suggest we find my husband.” You hiked up your skirts and strode, past everyone, up the stairs. 

This house was one of the largest and you had only been here twice so suffice to say you were lost without guidance but you kept your head held high and made it your mission to find a study. Where else would the training be? Perhaps outside but you would search the gardens after you'd finished inside. 

You entered and exited countless empty rooms, they were decorated but void of life. As though they hadn't been touched in years, of course they were dusted and kept fresh but you knew your husband hadn't been in them. You could tell.

“Hux, am I going mad?” You sighed. “Have we been going in circles?” 

“No, we haven't.” Your shadow replied. “Pryde. Are you intentionally vexing your Queen?” 

The other man was clearly uncomfortable. “I am trying to spare her.” 

“What does that mean?” You frowned. What was he sparing you from? Why would he feel the need? “Elaborate!”

Pryde’s mouth opened and closed before he relented. “I will take you to the King, but do remember Snoke has deemed this necessary and sworn us to secrecy.” 

You were frantically nodding and motioned for him to lead the way. Pryde led you to a set of stairs and descended down to what you assumed was the servants quarters. It was refreshing to see a space that was lived in but worrisome that the King was not present upstairs. Pryde walked even further down and brought you and Hux into a cavaness pathway. It was dark and dank and smelt awful but you pushed on. 

Hux was quick to steady you as you walked on uneven rocks, one arm under yours and the other on top. Your anxiety was through the roof and in the moment you didn't care, your fingers weaved through his and you squeezed his hand for support. 

You were holding hands before you heard the scream. 

“Is that-?” Your words were cut off by another louder howl. You noticed Pryde had paled when he gave you a nod. 

The nod was all you needed to sprint. You'd dropped Hux’s hand in order to hold your skirts and you bolted (as fast as one could in a corseted gown) towards the noise. 

The screaming hadn't ceased but it was less frequent as you stumbled towards a now visible door. 

“Open it!” You demanded and Pryde's shaky hands found the key chain but could not stay still enough to pick the correct one. You snatched the metal from his hand and tried two before the third unlocked the bulky door.

Two guards were quick to step back as you forced your way into the room. 

“I am not to be interrupted!” Snoke yelled at the door. He was facing away from you, staring at the pathetic body strapped to a chair. Your heart lurched when you saw the body for who it was. Your husband was chained to the chair, his body convulsing and muttering.

“UNCHAIN HIM!” Your voice demanded.  

Snoke jumped at your voice and quickly gave you a bow. “My Qu-” 

“What are you waiting for? Unchain the King!” You didn't know your voice could get that loud, that angry, but it had the desired effect. Two servants undid his shackles and stared at you awaiting their next order. “Get. Out.”

The words juxtaposed the previous shout. They were quiet, still full of venom but barely a whisper. Despite this the five men in the room heard them and they were quick to make their exits. 

Now you and Hux stood in the dark room, both scanning your husband trying to keep your eyes on him and not the room. There were candles lighting shelves of books, there were doctors tools on an unsanitary side table, large weapons attached to the wall, dark stains on the floors and walls and an obscene amount of shackles.

“Kylo.” You whispered, taking slow steps towards him. 

Your husband didn't respond. He didn't even look at you. He was physically in the room but you could tell mentally he was elsewhere. 

You steeled yourself and forced the tremors in your hands to cease before delicately reaching out to his left cheek - a scar that looked painful adorned his right. The pads of your fingers barely made contact when Kylo jerked away. His eyes landed on you but there was no recognition. 

“K-Kylo?” You tried again and this time he let you touch him. “Ben?” There was a spark behind his dark eyes but as soon as it appeared it vanished. 

What had gone on in this room? What happened to your love? 

Putting on the calmest, soothing voice you asked, “Ben, can you sit up?” 

The man didn't respond - could he? - but he did as you asked. There were a few winces as he sat upright but otherwise he made no complaint. 

“I'm going to put a hand on your back.” You let him know your actions beforehand and he didn't jolt at the touch. “And I'm going to bring you forward.” Kylo allowed you to guide him towards you. Letting you rest his head on your chest. 

You remember when you'd first realised he was just slightly shorter than you when sitting. It was a fond memory, one that ended in shared laughter and passionate kissing. But now the memory would be tainted. Now you could only see how small he was. He wasn't an imposing figure, merely a hurt man. 

With the hand that rested on his back you traced nonsensical shapes and patterns. The other hand found itself untangling his hair. It had gotten longer, left unbrushed and uncut.

“It's okay Ben.” You repeated the words to him, laying your cheek on top of his head. It didn't matter that he didn't recognise you, nor that he wasn't hugging you back, the only thing that did matter was that he was okay. That he was calm enough to leave this place. 

You had no idea how long you stood there kissing his crown and promising things were okay. No idea how long Hux, forever your shadow, watched you both. 

You'd taken to humming and tracing ‘I love you's on his spine when the King pulled away from your embrace. He was present in the room, you could tell immediately from his eyes. 

The implications being that he had seen a false vision of you stung your heart. “Of course I'm real, love.” 

The same eyes that were staring into your soul. Eyebrows pinches and mouth agape. He muttered your name before croaking, “are you real?”

Kylo's hands left his side and found themselves on your hips. You could see his wrists were cut and bruised from being chained but forced your gaze elsewhere. He took a deep breath before nodding to himself. “Yes, you are.” 

“I missed you.” You caressed his cheek. “And I love you.” 

The words had hardly left your lips when he was responding. “I love you.” It was desperate. He needed you to know. 

You both embraced each other fully. His face in the crook of your neck as you hunched to hug him. His trembling fingers clutched the fabric of your dress on your spine, barely grazing your nape. There were a few sniffles but no tears fell, you made sure to check; being as careful as you could to swipe under each eye.

“How are you here?” Kylo's voice was less hoarse now, clearer as you imagine was his mind. 

“I missed you and I forced Hux to bring me.” Your fingers carded through his locks. “I wish I came sooner.” 

“No, this- this is necessary.” He looked ashamed. “Snoke said this was needed to be a great ruler.” 

“I think it is time we stopped listening to that dinosaur.” The first syllable of your name formed on his lips but you shook your head. “Shh, we can discuss that later.” You glanced over your shoulder at Hux in the doorway. “How long was the walk here?”

“Fifteen or twenty minutes?” Hux shrugged one shoulder. “It felt longer.”

“Right, love.” You held Kylo's chin. “Are you able to stand?” 

Kylo considered your question, doubt splattered across his whole being. His eyes scanned your face before they met Hux over your shoulder. He nodded. “Of course. I may need help.” 

Hux was immediately at his side. You scooted your skirts out of Kylo's way and propped an arm under his. You and Hux, together, hoisted Kylo upright. His legs were wobbly from disuse but he forced himself to be strong. He didn't want you to see him in this pathetic state, the least he could do was walk in a semi-straight line. 

The height difference did interfere with you helping but Kylo placed a sturdy hand on your shoulder and allowed you to take what weight Hux wasn't holding up. 

If walking to the torture room was hard walking from it was impossible. Your heels caught and ankles twisted, Kylo's winces echoed through the cavern and Hux slipped on what you sincerely hoped was water. The three of you eventually emerged from the hallway after several breaks and you'd never been happier to see servants quarters. 

A pink Hux puffed out a breath, leaning his palm on his thigh. “Sorry, your Majesty.” 

“It's completely fine.” You dismissed the apology, out of breath yourself. “My husband is pure muscle.” A hand met his peck and you smiled up to him. 

Kylo smirked down at you and fixed your hair. He must have knocked your headpiece askew when in the dark. “You're beautiful.” 

The conviction in which he spoke always had you bashful. “Stop.” 

“It's true.” 

“Kylo, come on.” 

“I love you.” 

“And I you.” 

His smile widened, pulling at the edge of his scar. He didn't let that dampen the mood but you could see the pain behind his eyes. 

“Hux?” You tore your gaze away from the King. “Can you draw a bath for the King? And have a room prepared, I will need my things brought as we will be moving here until the King is better.” 

Hux nodded once and left to fulfil the tasks. 

Kylo spoke once Hux’s footsteps had stopped, “you don't have to move here.” 

“Of course, I do.” You spoke, leaving no room for arguments. “Once you're better we can decide where to live but before I will stay by your side.” 

“I can only get better by doing what we were in that room.” His eyes flickered back at the door you'd just closed. 

“No. No more of that.” 

“It’s-” 

“No Kylo. I refuse that.” Your head shook. “I will not allow that.” 

“But Sno-” 

“Snoke doesn't matter.” 

“He helps-” 

But you refused to have that creature defended. Snoke was a disease that should be eradicated. “If you do one thing for me in this marriage. Just one. It is to leave that behind. You don't need magic to be a good ruler, you are one.” You plead. “I will do anything you ask if you leave those - that torture - behind.” 

“He-” Kylo bit his cheek, the words leaving him in stuttered half sentences. “He said you'd- said you'd get hurt. You'd-” 

“Kylo, please. You can't believe that.” 

“I don't know.” His eyes found the floor. "I've seen- I don't know."

You captured his hands in yours and plastered a bright smile on your face. “Look, we will talk more about this after your bath, after arrangements are made and when we are settled in bed.” 

The two of you steadily made your way to your allocated bedroom. There was a tub that had been filled and luckily was devoid of any oils or soaps. You were loath to find out if the scarring ran underneath his sweat stained clothes, you couldn't handle causing him any more pain. 

“Right, love, are you ready for a bath?"

Kylo gave you a nonverbal nod. 

You grinned at him and helped him out of the tunic. He had no cuts or scars but there were bruises along his ribs and, once the trousers were off, his hip. 

“Are you able to get into the tub?” 

He merely nodded again and eased himself in the water. 

You helped him by washing his back and shoulders. Scrubbing his nails and cleaning his chest. It didn't matter that the front of your dress was damp and your corset wasn't made for you to bend in this fashion. Kylo leaned his head back and let his hair fan out in the water.

He looked so peaceful. 

Like he had when you first met him. 

His eyes were shut and the shadow his lashes created hid the dark spots under each eye. You had carefully cleaned his scar and it looked a lot better now there was no dried blood. 

He looked at ease. 

“My love.” You hummed, tracing his facial features. 

“Yes?” He cracked open a tired eye. 

“I'm so happy to be with you again.” You bent to kiss the tip of his nose. 

He angled his face and captured your lips instead. A gasp left you and you allowed him to lead the kiss until a yawn erupted from him. 

“Come on, let's get you to bed.” You rose from the side of the tub and helped him out of the dirty water. You wrapped a towel around his midsection and pointed him towards your shared bed. 

He noted your pause as he sat on the mattress. “Are you not joining me?” 

“I am, although, I do just want to make sure Hux has everything in order before I settle.” 

Kylo looked visibly distressed at the mere idea you were leaving. 

“I promise I will be back.” He didn't look relieved. “Here-” you took your ring off and handed it to him. “-I will be back for that.”

“Your mother's ring.” Kylo held the metal as though it was a baby bird, it was so very precious he was afraid of breaking it.

“You know I'd do anything for that ring.” You kissed his crown. “I will be back for it.” 

Leaving Kylo was very hard. You didn't want to and you knew he was anxious for your return but you had to see Hux. You needed to know everything would be okay before you relaxed. 

Your secretary was having a hushed discussion with Pryde. Each party looked unamused. 

“Hux.” You announced your entrance. “My things?” 

“On route, your Majesty.” 

“And Snoke?” 

“He is still on the premises. He's in the study.”

“Pryde.” The other man straightened. “I will let you stay for now but the second my husband is uncomfortable with you, you are gone.” 

He nodded and you turned on your heel to deal with the creature. 

“Your Majesty.” Snoke addressed you. “Allow me to explain my methods.” 

“No.” 

He raised his non-eyebrow. “But if you would just listen.”

“I have allowed you to corrupt and harm my husband for too long. You are to leave and never return. If I could order you to be destroyed without corrupting my soul I would, but I can't. I wish you the life you deserve.” You glanced at Hux. “Make sure he leaves.” 

With that you returned to Kylo. On route you caught a maid and asked her to loosen your dress. Blessedly, she did it with ease and the bodice was off with no problem. Once that was off you undid your top skirt and stepped out of it. You untied the hoop skirt and left that on the floor too with your undershirt and stockings. You placed the crown on a side table and unpinned your locks. Arriving at the door naked you slipped into the room and smiled at his dozing body. 

He had fallen asleep sitting up awaiting your arrival. Your ring was still clutched in his hand and you just took him in. He was so handsome. You'd never tire of his appearance. 

You sat yourself on the side of the bed and plucked your ring from him, sliding it back onto your right hand. 

“Kylo, darling, let's lay down.” You shuffled him down into a more comfortable position. One eye cracked open and he pulled you in close. 

“Love you.” He muttered into your ear. 

“I love you, more."

[lqveharrington]

Big, Small

[astxroiid]

benedict bridgerton as written by astro

"What is it truly, to admire a woman? To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty. So much so that all your defenses crumble, that you would willingly take on any pain, any burden for her."

series:

shades of blue // enemies to lovers // arranged marriage // slow burn --- coming soon (hopefully)

✷ arranged marriage! Studying any art form possible is a passion few possess. Very few it would seem. Especially since the only person to share your class is a fiend from your childhood. The one who stole your best friend away from you and isolated you from the whole of London society. At least, that's how you remember it.

one shots:

n/a

blurbs:

n/a

Requests for Benedict Bridgerton are currently closed, please check other characters before requesting them.

Reminder: likes are appreciated but comments and reblogs are the desire. Remember they do more for authors and tumblrs than a like ever could.

[ast3ryne]

guys. i know i died for well over a year i don’t care, i need to write give me request, any request, im gonna start tweaking out i need to be stimulated creatively or i will explode

[koitaxa]

"eric is so benedict coded omgg, they are literally the same person!!!!" ok then make a little mermaid au fanfic 🤨🤨 whats stopping u? what is stopping this fandom from writing a scruptilisious piece where benedict just pines endlessly, this man was BUILT for it

don't care if its x reader or if its with Sophie just GIVE IT TO ME. please <3

[sparklewrites1]

I only wanna write an arranged marriage enemies to lovers caspian fic because I keep seeing 'queen charolotte' and 'the great' edits and I really don't know a lot about these shows but the edits are giving me too many ideas.

[fantasydreamland]

Apparently season 4 is going to be focused on Benedict’s love story and I’m so ready

I’m also so curious who our bi icon is going to end up with

[hayleesoph]

im gonna start writing fanfiction for my own personal enjoyment and no one is gonna stop me!! eddie munson, colin bridgerton, and jason voorhees better watch out because here i come!!

[starrynightsindreamland]

‎‧₊˚✩♡ 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 ♡✩˚₊‧

this blog is just where i reblog fics i like, mainly so i can more easily find the one i'm looking for, but you're welcome to use it for your own reading pleasure!

⋆˙⟡��� fandoms ♡⟡˙⋆

gilmore girls

➳ jess mariano

➳ dean forester

criminal minds

➳ spencer reid

harry potter

➳ fred weasley

➳ remus lupin

supernatural

➳ sam winchester

the amazing spider man

➳ peter parker

bridgerton

➳ anthony bridgerton

➳ benedict bridgerton

star wars

➳ luke skywalker

➳ ben solo

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───