#benedict bridgerton fan fic

[gimmiesophiebaek]

In honor of Benophie’s wedding anniversary…

Today is Benedict and Sophie’s wedding anniversary. In honor of that, here’s some fan fics to check out on AO3.

[walkingintheheartbreaksatellite]

OMG VISCOUNT HARRY???? UHM YES GIMMIE NOW

The Arrangement

(Harry Styles x Bridgerton)

(Viscount! Harry Styles x Noble! Fem! Reader)

As an only child, Y/N is arranged to marry the Viscount Harry Styles. She is displeased with her father, as her mother had told her she could wait one more season before looking for a husband. But a marriage into one of the richest families in England is not what it would seem…

"Papa, please! Mama promised! I'm just not ready! Please, I don't want this!"

I pace around the drawing room, biting my lips as tears threaten to spill. My father however, remains stern in his decision.

"The Viscount is a fine man, and will prove to be a wonderful husband to you. It is done, my darling. You will marry the Viscount Styles, and I shall not entertain any further debate on the matter."

With my papa's word as final say, I could do nothing more as I retired to my bedroom to prepare for Lady Danbury's ball in honor of the new season.

Night falls as we leave the estate, my papa's fowl mood only growing as we venture to Danbury House.

"Oh come now, Stephen. This will be a fine experience for her. She is to be a Viscountess and as such, she will be attending these events more often."

My papa folds his arms childishly as he gives her a stern look.

"She is to bed wed, Eleanor. And yet you require her attendance at this silly gathering?"

I gasp in utter shock at my papa's words. Mama only scoffs and swats at him with her fan.

"Stephen Walker, do you think me a fool? I am allowing our daughter attend the soirée in support of Miss. Bridgerton, with the knowledge that the Viscount Styles will be in attendance. I thought it best our daughter to promenade with her betrothed, don't you dearest?"

If there's one thing about my mama, she knows well how to silence my papa. My papa mumbles under his breath and sits up properly as we had stopped moving. The footman opens the door and my papa helps mama and I exit our carriage.

Mama and I each take one of papa's arms and he escorts us inside. We are greeted immediately by Lady Danbury.

"Why if it isn't the Duke Walker and his lovely family! And my heavens, Lady Y/N! You are an absolute vision!"

I feel a small blush appear on my cheeks as I bow politely to her. We converse with Lady Danbury for a moment before she dismisses herself to greet more guests. From across the ballroom, my eyes land on the the one person I had eager to see.

"Papa, might I accompany Miss. Bridgerton in her search of suitors?"

My papa begins to refuse when my mama lays a hand on his chest, and she gives me a smile.

"Yes dearest, of course you may. Stephen, please escort our daughter. Be sure she remains with one of the lords Bridgerton. I shall find myself a drink."

Before papa can offer any debate, mama is already leaving his side and making her way through the crowd. Papa lets out a sigh and grumbles once more before he begins to walk me over to the Bridgertons.

"Lord Bridgerton, a pleasure to see you as always."

Lord Bridget gives my father a small nod in exchange. Daphne lets her brother go and leaps to me, causing her mama to scold her.

"Daphne, please!"

Daphne does not mind her mama as she hugs me close and I giggle.

"Lord Bridgerton, might I ask-."

Before my papa can finish, a man approaches us. Him. The Viscount Harry Styles. My papa smiles at the sight of him and turns his attention to the Viscount.

"Ah! Lord Styles! I was not expecting to see you this evening."

The man nods with a curt smile.

"Lord Walker, I was wishing to speak with you. Might I escort Lady Y/N this evening? I would very much like to speak with her."

My papa only smiles and practically pushes me to the Viscount's side, much to Daphne's disappointment. I merely push away from the from him, instead grabbing the arm of Mr. Benedict Bridgerton.

"Humblest apologies, my lord. I have been promised to Mr. Bridgerton for the evening. Isn't that right, Mr. Bridgerton?"

I give Benedict a pleasing look and he sends me one of his cat-like smiles. He lets go of me and hands me to the Viscount.

"I shall of course comply to his Lord's wishes, Lady Walker. I bid you a goodnight, my lady."

He bows and scurries off, laughing as he fetches himself a drink. I hesitantly turn my attention to the Viscount, who gives me a small, soft smile.

"Shall we dance, Lady Walker."

I force a small smile as I nod, taking his hand he has offered to me. After a few dances, Lord Styles suggests promenading in the garden. We walk along the many rose bushes coating the courtyard, though I simply refuse to look in the Viscount's direction.

"My Lady... I do hope you will come to agree with me. If we are to spend the rest of our lives together, should it not be a happy life?"

I simply remain silent as if I did not hear him.

"My Lady, is something the matter? We are betrothed after all, you needn't act so formal."

As much as I try to remain a perfect lady, I simply cannot hold my composure. I turn to him, exposing my inner thoughts before I am able to stop myself.

"Is this but a game to you, my Lord? This arrangement? Let me assure you, my Lord, this is no game to me. Above everything, I am a woman. I have dignity, I have desires and I have intelligence. I refuse to be reduced to nothing more than another wife. That is all that is expected of ladies in society. But that is not what I want."

He is silent for a moment before he holds out his arm to me, though he refuses my gaze.

"I hope you will come to understand why I asked for your hand, my lady. Fore I am not just a Viscount, but a man. Now, allow me to escort you to your father. I wish to retire for the night, and it disgraceful to leave a Lady alone."

He does not look my way through the entire walk inside the ballroom before leaving me in the arms of my papa. He gives a small, simple bow before he excuses himself, leaving quietly. My papa insists we retire for the evening as well, as my mama has found herself rather lush.

Rather early the next morning, I lounge in the drawing room, reading leisurely, just as I do every morning. My papa storms in, a rather stern expression on has face as he paces to me rather quickly, a letter grasped tightly in his hand.

"Have I failed you as a father?"

"Papa?"

"Truly, have I failed you? The daughter I have raised would never speak such a way! I shall like to hear your explanation!"

Before I am able to respond, my mama waltzes in, a look of worry on her freckled face.

"Dearest! What ever could be the matter?"

My papa seethes as he turns to my mama, his look of anger evident.

"Your daughter provoked a tiff with the Viscount last night!"

"Oh Y/N..."

"Papa, I am sorry! I was merely being honest with the Viscount! Is that not what you have raised me to do, papa? I am a lady, just as you have raised me to be. I am quite capable of doing things for my self, and I am in no need of a man. I am not an object papa, and I will not allow myself to be seen as such."

My papa sighs and sits in the open seat of the Davenport I occupy.

"I know quite well how I raised you. I raised you to be strong and polite. I expect better from you. The Viscount and I would very much like this arrangement to work. Therefore: you will be staying at Styles Estate until your wedding, when you will take permanent residence with the Viscount."

🚾 1384

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Please like and reblog! Let me know what you think and if I should write more!

Tag List

@be-with-me-so-happily @swiftmendeshoran @freedomfireflies @fruitmans @fruitmansrecs @harrysmimi @kaminokatiee @babyiamperfectforyou @strwbrrydaydreams @violetsandfluff

[writers-hes]

a special invitation—

Hi, everyone!

I would like to invite you to my first ever Tumblr sleepover. To celebrate my 2000-follower milestone, I decided that I needed to do something special and something good. In all honesty, I only started writing fanfiction on Tumblr because I wanted to be a part of a writing community. I wanted to share my craft and at first, it was quite hard. I never expected to get past 500 followers, let alone reach 2,000! It wouldn’t have happened without you, so thank you.

I really want you guys to know me more in this event. I feel like you all think of my as a grey blob writing fics and complaining her life away. I also want to learn more about you guys, too—your interests and everything else. That’s why, for this event, you will have to bring something (or a few things) to really participate. Here’s what you can bring:

Author asks: ask me anything and everything about me; except personal identifiers. I will be answering them honestly.

FMK, never have I ever, would you rathers

Any request for a blurb or a headcanon. It doesn’t matter if it’s smut, angst, or fluff; I will be opening my request box for all my characters—yes, that includes Harry Styles. (Make sure to take note of my guidelines, though.)

Ask / give me recs! Fic recs, book recs, song recs—anything.

Rant, vent, share us something about you! Crushes, how your day was, how your week was. Tell us something you’d like to share.

Submit memes/videos and other forms of media you’d like to share. (I won’t be posting offensive ones.)

Keep your eyes peeled for announcements, drops, and releases! (Sneak peeks, discontinued work, and fun gifts.)

The event will be held from February 19th-25th. There will be no specific time frame to cater people living in different timezones. I really hope to see you guys flood my request box and for us to get to know each other more. Please, please, please come!

See you there! Love you.

[silverhallow]

I re found this article and I’m still shook that my work got mentioned in a international post 🤯🤯

[writtenfangirl]

Dancing

A short one this time! I just wanted to write a really fluffy piece without drama although, yes there is a very small conflict if you squint hard enough. I wanted to write another fic that made me feel good just cause life's been extra hard lately.

Although I have a ton of ideas for this one so a sequel if people really enjoy this. I briefly wondered making Y/N be Lady Whistledown and pairing her up with my favorite Bridgerton brother to see what would happen.

TW: People being mean. Gossiping mamas. Cressida Cowper mention.

The ball, as most balls tended to be as the night waned, had grown stale and boring. The dancing had ceased despite the wonderful string quartet that played their music and people had broken off to their own parties. As the guests become accustomed to the taste of alcohol, words began to flow with reckless abandon. 

“Did you hear? Viscount Dotsfield has a bastard with a scullery maid!”

“The Earl of Blackfield is said to engage in… relationships with Sir Lockling.”

“There are rumors going around that one of the Colton daughters has a French paramour whose name is Ravilli. An ambassador of sorts…”

Gossip is what fueled the ton, the very lifeblood that had men and women of varying ages coming to these balls in the first place. No one in the ton wanted to be caught unaware and one could never be too careful of the rumors that could be fabricated about you. According to Y/N’s mama, the only people who didn’t come to balls and to the gatherings hosted by members of the ton were those of them whose reputations were in ruins. You were either gossiping or you were the one being gossiped about. 

So she came and endured even if she was bored out of her mind. 

It wasn’t anything she wasn’t use to anyway. She was a woman and women were seen and not heard. Not only that, but she was a wallflower. Wallflowers were hardly seen at all.

“Lady Y/L/N.”

She knew that familiar voice, smooth and deep yet somehow still bright. If sunsets could speak, Y/N imagined they would have his voice.

“Mister Bridgerton,” Y/N said as she spun around, hiding her smile behind her bejeweled fan. “I half expected you to have taken your leave by now.”

“Under usual circumstances, I might have. But I have yet to dance with the most beautiful girl in the room.” Benedict said with a crooked smile. “And my mother has always told me that dancing is one of men’s greatest assets to encourage affection.”

“There’s hardly anyone dancing,” Y/N said bashfully.

“All the better reason to do so.”

Y/N wasn’t naive. She knew Benedict was only speaking to her because his mother asked him too. She’d always rather liked Lady Bridgerton and she had a penchant for forcing her sons to dance with the wallflowers. At every ball Y/N attends, her dance card, though usually empty, always had three names: Anthony Bridgerton. Benedict Bridgerton. Colin Bridgerton. 

And there was no man who made he heart beat faster than Benedict Bridgerton himself. Because it was Benedict who offered to fill up all of the other spaces in her dance cards even though he didn’t have to.

All the Bridgerton brothers were kind to her but Benedict was more than that. Anthony and Colin were polite but Benedict laughed with her and conversation flowed between them like water from a fountain. And though she knew Benedict was unlikely to return her feelings, she occasionally let her delusions run wild. She often spent her days imagining what their future would look like. Would their children have his eyes or hers? Their hair would probably be different too. And their noses—

“Y/N?”

Blast! What a bloody idiot! She shouldn’t have let her mind wander like that! And now Benedict was looking at her expectantly with those luminous blue eyes and she couldn’t focus her mind to remember what it is he’d asked of her.

“Yes?” She asked, fighting to stop herself from sounding so breathy.

“Excellent,” Benedict grinned with an outstretched hand. 

The dance. She’d forgotten about the dance!

She briefly wondered if she could find a way out of it. Getting on that dance floor would shift everyone’s focus on to them and she already knew what people would say. 

“The Bridgerton charity case.”

“Of all of the young ladies, he chose her?”

“He deserves better.”

She glanced around nervously. Everyone else was too engrossed in their own conversations to pay them any heed but those conversations would instantly stop the moment she and Benedict stepped on the dance floor alone. 

And she knew that if she were to reject Benedict’s advances, her mother would kill her. Though Anthony was but a Viscount, his fortune was considerable large. His father before him had managed their estate well and Anthony was known to make cunning investments that grew their already large fortune, a fortune that would also provide cushy lives for the rest of his brothers. Perhaps not the large estate of a Duke but certainly nothing to scoff at. And Y/N didn’t doubt for one second that the rest of the Bridgerton brothers weren’t as smart as Anthony was when it came to their finances. 

It’s why Y/N had constantly heard her mother’s say, “you will marry a Duke or a Bridgerton. Anything less is unacceptable.”

Luckily for Y/N, her mother wasn’t around to see her reject Benedict. 

Still, with the way Benedict looked at her, it was hard to say no. 

“Just one dance,” Y/N ceded with a sigh, slipping her gloved hand onto his. 

His smile widened considerably. “You mustn’t be nervous.”

“Easy for you to say,” Y/N huffed. “You look perfect everywhere you go.”

“Oh?”

Damn. Damn damn damn. Damn the world. Damn herself. And damn Benedict Bridgerton. 

“You think I look perfect?” He asked, cocking a brow in question. 

“U-uh, I m-mean, that is to say, I don’t—“

“You truly must calm your nerves, my lady,” Benedict said with a chuckle as he pulled her to her feet and led her to the dance floor. “I am only teasing.” 

Y/N could hear the stream of gossip stop as members of the ton watched them. There was a pregnant pause and then the chatter began once again. She couldn’t hear the full conversations but she heard enough. 

“…fat…”

“…ugly…undeserving…”

“…he is too kind…”

It made Y/N want to curl up into a ball so that the earth may open up and swallow her whole. 

“Pay them no heed,” Benedict muttered as he pulled her close, his hand resting on the small of her back as his other hand found hers. “Focus only on us. And tonight, you look beautiful.”

“Only tonight?” Y/N joked in a bid to ease the coil of tension tightening around her core. 

“Every night.” Benedict’s tone was too serious to be called teasing. 

Soon the new music started, washing away the ton’s horrible words. She could still feel their watchful eyes on her skin, felt the way they judged her. 

“Focus on me,” Benedict muttered before he began their dance by swaying them back and fort.

She let the music fill her, weaving through the muscles in her body. Their dance was a complicated one and though she wasn’t an accomplished dancer by any sense of the word, with Benedict leading it was hard to fail. 

In and out, push and pull, with complicated lifts and turns yet somehow always finding their way back to each other. It was as if their bodies were magnetized, attracted only to the other. As the music swelled, she forgot all about the gossiping ton and their prying eyes. Instead she only felt Benedict’s body heat, the hard chords of muscles hidden beneath his jacket, his hands steady around her waist. 

His gaze on her felt soft, like staring at the afterglow of of dusk. She was never much of a drinker but Benedict always had the ability to make her feel drunk, as though each of her inhibitions left her the moment his luminous blue eyes landed on her. 

When the last notes of the song echoed between them and Y/N and Benedict detached from each other to curtsy and bow at one another, the entire ballroom erupted into applause. 

A soft gasp left Y/N’s lips. She’d completely forgotten about the ton watching them with Benedict commanding all of her attention. 

She raised her head, meeting Benedict’s eyes once more. 

“You were marvelous,” Benedict muttered with a grin as he took her hand and placed a chaste kiss against it before leading her out of dance floor. The ton’s eyes had grown less hostile and more appreciative on and, for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt exhilarated. 

“I would like to call on you tomorrow, Ms. Y/L/N.” Benedict said, letting his voice be carried throughout the ballroom. His words brought on another wave of whispers. “If you would let me?”

Y/N was absolutely sure she would be the center of gossip tomorrow. Perhaps until the end of the season if Benedict’s intentions are what she thought them to be. 

To call on her would mean Benedict would like to get to know her better, to suss out if she would make a good wife or not. And with him a Bridgerton and her a lowly Y/L/N, they would make waves with the ton. She could practically feel Cressida Cowper glaring daggers at her back.

But she didn’t care about that right now. She was still riding the high of their beautiful dance. She was no great beauty, that much was true. But with Benedict, she felt beautiful. And his opinion mattered to her more than the Queen’s and the whole ton’s combined.

“Of course you may call on me, Mr. Bridgerton,” she said graciously, ignoring her fast beating heart. “I’ll have the cook prepare that raspberry marmalade you enjoy so much.”

Benedict grinned. “I am much obliged. I shall see you tomorrow. I hope you have a good evening.” He took her hand again, placing another gentle kiss on her knuckles before he straightened and walked away.

[startwelve]

Perfect wife… or mistress?

Pairing: Anthony Bridgertonxreader/Bedenict Bridgertonxreader Summary: You go to have tea at your friend Eloise's house, and her older brothers seem to have some interest in you. Warnings: None Note:It may be that I do two other parts, but they are two alternatives. I mean, one where you end up with Anthony and another with Benedict, if you liked how this fic turned out.

You swore you were going to pass out any minute.

An unbearable heat had settled over the City of London. And you, like all high society ladies, had splendid clothes to envy. These days you hated them.

You would quickly fan your fan of your family's distinctive color, trying not to let the sweat show on your face, as you looked out at the streets of Mayfair, sitting in your carriage. It seemed to take you forever to reach the residence of your friend Eloise Bridgerton.

You met when you were introduced into society at Queen Charlotte's ball. Your mother, as her only firstborn, was anxious to introduce you to every gentleman who came to speak to you. At first, you didn't mind, but there came a time when you felt suffocated, the corset was tighter than usual, and the sleeves of your dress itched. You needed air. When you finished dancing with a gentleman with an important title you did not know, you said goodbye and almost ran out, pretending not to.

Not far from you, a young woman was sitting on a bench, staring into the void. You recognized her, Eloise Bridgerton, sister of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and Benedict Bridgerton, you knew because you had heard your cousins talking about them, eager for one of them to be her husband.

You noticed that she looked lonely, maybe, like you, overwhelmed. Carefully, hoping not to disturb her, you approached her and greeted her with a small "hello," not knowing that it would turn into a long conversation about hating this dance and the society in which you lived, the beginning of a friendship.

And there you were, going to her residence for tea.

Inside Aubrey Hall, in the living room to be exact, they sat on the sofa, Benedict drawing on a sheet of paper and Anthony reading the newspaper. Eloise was sitting next to a table with desserts and a tea set, writing in her notebook, eagerly awaiting your arrival.

Benedict frowned at her and said with a smile, "Are you expecting a suitor, Sister?"

Eloise gave him her characteristic smile and closed her notebook.

"No, I am expecting Lady Hartford," she said.

"Who is Lady Hartford?"

"My new friend I met at Queen Charlotte's ball."

"Did she introduce herself at the ball?" asked Anthony suddenly.

Benedict laughed.

Eloise was about to answer him, but was interrupted when the servant announced your arrival. Those in the room rose, Anthony quicker. They entered and Eloise walked excitedly up to them.

Anthony and Benedict couldn't take their eyes off you. You were dazzling, exquisite, beautiful….

Anthony thought that with your beauty, you would make the perfect wife.

Benedict thought that with your beauty you would be the perfect muse.

You bowed slightly as Eloise introduced them, bringing them out of their trance. When you saw them, you agreed with your cousins. These men were attractive and a good choice for husbands. But you erased those thoughts when you remembered the reason you were invited, and that one of their sisters was your new friend.

"Eloise, your house is beautiful," you complimented.

"Thank you. Now come," Eloise said as she walked over to the table of desserts and tea.

"The heat is unbearable," you complained. You grabbed the cup, took a sip and asked, "Did any suitors visit you today?"

"Fortunately not you?"

"Yes, five," you replied, laughing as you remembered what one of them told you. "One told my mother that my hips were perfect for having heirs."

You and Eloise laughed out loud. Anthony looked up and looked at you slyly, wanting to check if the comment was true.

"Are you thinking of accepting any proposals?" asked Eloise.

"Yes. I am a woman and the only daughter of a widowed mother. It is my duty to accept any proposal." This statement did not please Eloise, "Of course, I have certain requirements for my future husband."

"Which ones?"

You began to list them… many, drawing the attention of two brothers.

Could it be that you would be the perfect wife… or mistress?

[gimmiesophiebaek]

Spirits

Six spirits, as close as brothers and sisters, were separated for a bigger goal: to become guardian angels.

After the death of an honorable man, it’s up to these spirits to help heal his family. If only these spirits are nearby…

The first two chapters are up on AO3!

[fayes-fics]

Bella Notte

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: A moonlight lake swim with Benedict

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, innocence/corruption kink, first-time kissing, breast fondling, fingering, penis touching (i.e. first second and third base activities lol), romantic I guess?

Word Count: 2.9k

Authors Note: this is a very overdue fic request for my dear Emmy @iboopedyournose that she sent over DM many months ago. (Request: romantic moonlight swim with Benedict that leads to something steamy 😉😋). I don't know if there's enough romance here. I hope so. Also I’m sorry, I just wrote this now; I'm a bad friend. I hope you enjoy <3 (PS I almost subtitled this Innocence: underwater edition)

It’s after midnight when you and Benedict secretly steal down to the water's edge at Aubrey Hall. This is your first time unchaperoned with your intended; even just meeting him in the dead of night in the hallway seemed thrilling. But when he suggests you go to the lake, your whole body shivers at the prospect—not only for the clandestine time alone but also for the chance to dip a toe into the cool water, such a tempting prospect after an unrelentingly stifling hot July day. 

The setting is stunning, the trees surrounding you a beautiful silhouette under a blanket of stars, the milky white waxing moon reflecting upon the mirror-smooth surface of the lake.

Benedict squeezes your hand and catches your eye.

“Shall we?” his buttery voice is such an alluring temptation you can’t resist.

“We shouldn’t…,” you demure.

“That, my dear fiancee, is not exactly a no,” he murmurs, releasing your hand to strip off his shirt, revealing a toned chest that makes you bite your cheek.

“You first,” you whisper, a light breeze ruffling the strands of hair around your face as you watch him raise an eyebrow and reach for the buttons on his britches.

“If you wish to remain innocent, avert your eyes,” he suggests playfully.

You inhale sharply and spin around to face the house, your cheeks aflame, but your eyes cut to the side, half hoping to catch a furtive glimpse of your husband-to-be’s naked body. You hear the rustle of clothing being shed and then the splash of water as he seems to throw himself in bodily. The moan he makes as he surfaces does things to your insides that you don't fully understand, steadfastly still facing away.

“You may turn around now,” he calls, bemused, “I am concealed by the water.”

You slowly spin around to see him standing upright and almost choke. The waterline hugs low on his hips. So dangerously low there is dark thatch of hair peaking above the surface. And above it, acres of toned, muscular, very male torso painted with water droplets. You know you are staring—you know you are probably slack-jawed. Your gaze eventually reaches his face, and it's sin personified. He knows exactly what he is doing to you, teasing you, his hair slicked back against his head, emphasising the handsome lines of his face.

“Are you coming in too, or is this merely a spectator’s sport for you?” he intones, that lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You are so troublesome, Mr Bridgerton,” you murmur, trying to school your expression, but you just end up biting your lip, very much wishing for a fan as you feel your face heating.

“I promise nothing untoward,” he offers chivalrously, holding out a hand to beckon you in, “unless you want it,” the dusky addition makes your stomach flip.

He turns around and shoots you a sultry look over his shoulder before jumping up and diving back down into the water in a perfect fluid motion…. Giving you an eyeful of a very pert, very shapely, naked bottom as he does so.

“Dear god…” you exhale, looking skyward, knowing this will test your willpower, but somehow still drawn inexorably towards the water. After all, it has been such a HOT day; this will cool your body like nothing else.

As he swims away, you strip off your light silk robe to your white cotton nightgown and place a foot into the water.

The rocks under your toes are cool, smooth and slightly mossy. It feels heavenly. And so you wade in, the ground falling away fast, and by the time you are four paces from the edge, the water tickles against the apex of your thighs, and you sigh. The cold tamping, the fiery heat you feel there, mainly due to the man making his way back to you in a leisurely breaststroke, a smile on his face.

“So glad you decided to join me,” he lilts. “It's so refreshing, is it not?”

“Yes,” you sigh, moving deeper so the water is up around your waist, your nightdress starting to float up and away from your body. “Such a balm,” you add.

He hums in agreement and tips his head back, looking up at the moon.

“The moon shines bright. In such a night as this. When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, and they did make no noise, in such a night.” his delivery wistful.

“Shakespeare,” you breathe, your heart speeding up at the lyrical words he speaks from memory.

“Indeed,” he looks over at you, his eyes soft. “I enjoy nothing more than the truths he reveals so poetically. How he talks of beauty, nature, all the range of human emotions, and love,” he expands, moving closer, little waves of water buffering against your breast as he wades shallower and you deeper, drawn inescapably to him. 

He takes your hand from the surface and bends down slightly to kiss the back of it, his warm lips grazing your knuckles a contrast to the cool water dripping from your fingertips. Your breath catches in your throat at this simple move. You want to say something in response, but somehow all of your vocabulary seems inadequate, and you feel quite tongue-tied. 

“Come, swim with me,” he prompts softly, pulling you into the deeper water, and you let your feet float up from the ground. 

Your nightgown pooling in diaphanous layers around you, the cool water seeping into every crevice of your body, making you feel calm and soothed for the first time since this insatiable heatwave began. You start to move in a leisurely stroke keeping up with Benedict as he glances over and smiles at you encouragingly.

The moon, the sound of water moving gently over your limbs, the rustle of the trees and the trace of scent wafting from the nearby rose garden all make for a wonderous moment, and you roll onto your back, staring at the stars.

“Thank you for this,” you say quietly as you both slow, nearing the middle of the lake. 

“It is my pleasure,” he assures.

“It is very romantic,” you murmur, knowing your cheeks blush at your words. “The setting, I mean,” you quickly amend for some reason, somehow reticent to express romantic feelings.

“Not just the setting has to be romantic,” he offers, his voice low as he moves closer again.

You have to put your feet back onto the stony bottom to not feel unmoored by the tone and the sultry look in his eyes. The water is up to your neck almost.

“Benedict,” his name a sigh from your lips, even though you are unsure why you say it. A reflex, a call to him, a warning, even you do not know. All you feel is the heart beating wildly against your ribcage as he crowds into you.

“Y/n,” he purrs, and even in the water, you feel suddenly flushed. “Im going to kiss you,” he whispers, almost a warning, giving you a chance to move away.

Instead, you hold his molten gaze, equally excited and nervous about the prospect. Apart from a few chaste hand kisses, you have done nothing more in all your years on this earth.

“Okay…” you exhale shakily.

And then there is a large hand cupping your whole face, tilting you up to look at him. This close, he is so handsome, all cheekbones and strong jaw. You just freeze like a rabbit in the crosshairs. There is a warm gust of air over your nose as he breathes out, and then soft lips damp land on yours. 

Something fires in your chest like a gun, and your eyelids flutter shut. Then he is pressing harder, more insistent, moving his lips against yours. Unsure of what else to do or how to catalogue what is happening, you try to mirror his movements, pushing back with your closed lips up onto your tiptoes—a noise from deep within his body thrills every inch of your being. Arms band tight around your body, you are pulled against a solid warm chest, and your whole world explodes into fireworks behind your closed eyes. You can't help the gasp over his mouth, and his responding deep chuckle vibrates your entire being.

“Darling, I haven't even kissed you properly yet,” his tone dripping with bemusement as he speaks against your lips.

“What do you mean?” you stutter, trying to adjust to being in his strong embrace.

“Do you know what a true kiss feels like?” his question is so dark and smooth it hypnotises you.

“No,” you answer, breathing a little heavy.

“You are about to.”

His lips are back, and this time he opens his mouth, the hot wave of moisture, heat and taste taking you by surprise. His tongue rolls against your lips. You squeak, and on instinct, your mouth opens under his. Now it is massaging against yours, and there is a molten hot tingle between your legs. What on earth is he doing to you? You feel drunk, overwhelmed, just so much taste, sight, smell and just him. It seems apt you are in a lake seeing as you feel like you are drowning in him.

He breaks away slowly, and as you reopen your eyes, he smiles at you.

“How was that?” even you can detect the pride in his tone, knowing exactly how affected you are.

“Wonderful,” you respond honestly, and he beams at you.

And then he is kissing you again. The same passionate way. And then again. Over and over, your lips meet; minutes blur into each other. Exploring each other's mouths, his hand tender on your jaw.

“Would you like to know more?” There is no way you can resist that dark honeyed tone.

“Yes,” you sigh, desperate to understand what awaits you once you are married.

The hand around your jaw slips lower, fingers trailing over your neck as he holds your gaze. You can't look away, but your breath speeds up as that hand feels so heavy travels lower, fingers trailing your collarbone and then sinking lower, mapping your sternum as your chest rises and falls quicker than before. That crooked grin unfurls as he moves his hand to the right and cups your breast over your now translucent nightgown. You inhale sharply as your body responds, blood running hot. And then his fingertips trace over your nipple, and you moan lightly in your throat.

“Yes, darling,” it's gravelly, and his face is one of understanding for your plight and sheer carnal delight that he is the cause.

His other hand moves from around your waist, mapping your side until it mirrors the actions of his other hand on your other breast, and you practically swoon against him.

“Benedict,” you utter his name shakily, his smile turning predatory. 

“My darling wife-to-be, your body was made for me,” he murmurs. “Look how well your breasts fit into my hands.”

You bite your lip as you look down at the beguiling site of his huge hands holding your body; something ablaze inside you, liquid and volcanic. It makes you want to pull up and wrap your legs around his body, press him into the middle of your thighs, into that tugging ache.

“Show me more,” you plead, looking into his eyes, watching his pupils rapidly dilate and his tongue dart out to lick his bottom lip.

Then one of his hands moves to the buttons in the middle of your nightgown and flicks open a button. And then another. And another. And another. All the while, his fingers trace the slit of skin revealed down to your navel. His hands land on your shoulders, pushing the two sides of your nightgown apart and sliding it down over your arms. 

Under the water, you are now topless. Your skin breaks into goosebumps that have nothing to do with the water temperature but everything to do with the man in front of you.

Then you are wrenched back into his strong embrace and stunned into silence at the feel of his naked chest crushing yours—so solid, so smooth, your nipples pebbling so hard under his contours.

His lips find your neck, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his shoulders, hands mapping the lithe tone, the play of muscle under your fingertips.

You can scarcely believe something this good is possible. You have heard married women talk of needing to submit to the will of their husband's desires. But if this is anything close to what they mean, you wholeheartedly disagree. You want to submit to him utterly. Completely. He can do this to you as much as he wants.

“I will,” he responds fiercely into your skin, and you realise you must have said your last thought aloud. “Darling, I will kiss and hold you and do so many wonderful things every day if you will allow me.” 

“You can do whatever you want to me, Benedict,” you vow.

His responding groan right into your ear makes every inch of your body tingle.

“Darling, my sweet, you have no idea what you are saying yet, but god, I hope that is true,” he sounds so fervent, so very overwrought.

“Are you distressed, Benedict?” you blurt out, pulling his face between your hands and looking into his eyes, worried about how agitated he seems.

“No, my love,” he reassures, “this is passion; this is need. I want to do so many many things with you. But we should not until we are married.”

“Are there not things we can do before we are married to help with your need?” so curious to know more.

He leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. “I can hold you, and we can touch in places, briefly….” It sounds so taboo your blood runs hot.

“Where?” you breathe onto his cheeks.

“Between our legs,” he mutters back.

“I ache there,” you confess, “when you kiss me.”

He groans again and licks his lips; eyes still screwed shut. “That is wonderful news, my love. That is how it should be; it means you desire me as much as I desire you.”

“How will I know that you desire me?”

He grabs your wrist from around his neck and guides your hand slowly underwater. Then he presses your hand against something large, hard, and entirely unlike what you have between your legs. Your eyes go wide; your mouth falls open. Your hand on hot, steely flesh.

“That,” he rumbles, his eyes flaring open, stare piercing yours, “that is how you know I desire you, my love.”

“Wh.. what is that?” you gasp.

“That is my cock, and when we are married, it goes inside you,” he explains breathily as he presses your palm more forcefully into it, rocking his hips slightly.

“What? Where?” you are completely non-plussed.

He pulls your hand away and slides it between your legs, the layers of your nightgown billowing in a ring around your waist.

“Right here,” he intones softly, and you gasp as he pushes your middle finger up and into your body, his grip on your hand so tight.

“It won't fit,” you fret.

“It will,” he soothes, releasing your wrist, “look, it can take my finger and yours.” 

That is all the warning he gives before his long elegant digit plunges into your channel, flanking yours. You inhale staccato in shock and awe at the feeling.

“You are so very tight,” his voice at once reedy, “but I assure you, my love, I will fit. That is the marital act,” he adds, slowly withdrawing his fingers and yours.

“THAT is the marital act?!?” your mind still reeling from what has just transpired. “I have heard rumours that I must allow you to do things to me for ‘the marital act’. But... but I had no idea; I had heard it is unpleasant but short.” you frown, confused.

He huffs a laugh and grabs your jaw, pulling you against him so close his cock brands hot against your belly.

“It shall be neither, I assure you of that. You will demand, and receive, from me pleasure. At length.” Something in the way he says it stokes a fire inside you that cannot wait until that day. “But until then…” he sighs, pulling away, “we must resist further temptation, my love. As much as I want nothing more than to wrap your hand around my cock and push my fingers into your body, it is not fair to defile you as such yet.”

You pout at him as he reluctantly hauls your nightgown onto your shoulders beneath the surface. He has teased you with what awaits, and you are now hungry for more. 

But he kisses your lips chastely and turns back to look at the house. “We should probably swim back to shore and depart for our beds. Now that we are cooled down,” he adds with a wink.

“Speak for yourself,” you grouse uncharacteristically, refastening your buttons. “I may well be feeling more flushed now than I was before I stepped into the lake. No thanks to you.”

You have never shown your sassy side to Benedict before, always trying to play the demure fiancee your family has lectured you to be. But with everything that has happened, you feel unable to school your real personality from flaring out of you.

And the look he gives you is everything. It is desire, fascination and surprise all wrapped into one handsome raised eyebrow. You want to bathe in it.

“Oh, Mrs Bridgerton,” your upcoming name dripping syllable by decadent syllable from his lips, “such a sharp tongue. We will have plenty of fun putting that to very good use, I assure you.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84

[dollypopup]

bridgerton season 3 part 2 spoilers

I want to preface this with saying that I have loved Polin for two years. Two years, hundreds of thousands of words, and almost 50 stories. I have loved this couple through fan edits, through fics, through rereads, through songs. I have loved this couple so deeply and earnestly and endlessly

And so my disappointment in Part 2 stems, predominately, from the fact that I just wish it had been better.

I wish it hadn't been as cut through with plotlines that went, ultimately, nowhere. Will and Alice with the tension of 'I don't want to give up the club' 'Well, you should to suit the status quo' 'Oh, okay'. Benedict with his 'I love being free. Let's shag freely!' 'I may have feelings for you' 'I still just want to shag freely, but now I'm opening up more options' (tho, congrats on the bisexuality!) Violet and Marcus who are just being set up for the final season. Cressida, who's story tugged my heartstrings so much, and ended up in the dirt.

But more than anything, I wish Colin had gotten more. There were so many moments where he could have been expanded upon, where his character could have shined, and I truly want to commend Luke Newton, he did a phenomenal job with the crumbs he was given, but was ultimately shoved to the wayside for the Lady Whistledown plot.

In truth, this is a writing problem. The actors are phenomenal. They have chemistry, they have passion, and they are all believable, but the writing fell flat. They gave too much time to side plots and, frankly, to Debling, who was such a nothingburger and didn't even return that it was evident he only existed because the series was afraid to lean fully into Colin's complexities. You know what is more compelling and more worthwhile to explore than 'Oh, I could lose her to someone else?'

Losing her to herself.

Colin spent part 2 ultimately SAD. And he had every right to be. But instead of fully exploring that, he was relegated to the sidelines to support Penelope's storyline. And I understand completely that this season was for the Pen stans, but damn, I wish he got SOMETHING. Kanthony's advice to him was useless, Colin started the series knowing he couldn't open up to his brothers and still not doing so by the end. Colin saying that his ultimate purpose was to support and love Pen was a horrific cop out and a disservice of his character. It's a bad plotline when a woman says so for a man, and it's a bad plotline when a man says so for a woman.

I love these two so much, and I feel like they could have had so much better. Penelope now writing the same gossip, tying herself to Mayfair, but under her name now, thus ensuring that people are aware and being different around her for the sake of her publication is bad. To imply that her dreams are Lady Whistledown is lazy- Lady Whistledown is a plot device the writers are unable to let go, not Penelope's ultimate dreams.

You want me to believe that this woman's biggest dreams are to continue writing gossip? Not novels? Not stories? Not an autobiography? Not to travel? Not to make more friends? But to have a baby and write about parties? They tried giving legitimacy to gossip as if Penelope ever had any peer review, as if she is the be all end all of what is and is not true- she cannot possibly know fully.

I wanted more for her than to be a teenage mum tied to a gossip blog. I wanted more for Colin than to publish a book offscreen and take over an estate until his son comes of age. I wanted more for POLIN. Their beautiful moments were truly BEAUTIFUL. That first time scene was lovely- but how much lovelier would it be after he knew who she was in full and accepted all of it? Their reconciliation felt hollow because he was not truly given the time to process it. The pain of separation, sleeping on the couch as she took the bed, was hardly explored outside of a few quick scenes.

No montage of their letters, no Colin standing beside her, and that Lady Whistledown reveal where everyone clapped? I don't understand it. I wish so much that this show took a good story and made it better, and that's where my bitterness lies. Not because I'm a hater, but because I'm a lover. I wanted to love it so, so much.

And I know it could have been better. My couple is better than this. My couple is better than Penelope's ultimate goal being independence and Colin's ultimate goal being an accessory. My couple is a pair of equals. My couple is a pairing of two people who love one another so damn much they can't even stand it. Where is my Penelope who fights for him? Where is my Colin who announces to the world he loves her?

I guess that Polin ended up on the cutting room floor in the edits, because what we got wasn't enough for me

[writers-hes]

a gift from me to you—

Happy Holidays!

How is everyone? I hope you’re doing great this holiday season. If not, well, I hope you’ll appreciate this gift that I’m about to give you.

In lieu of the Holiday season, I would like to present a gift; an event which I call “a gift from me to you.” It will comprise of author asks, open requests, stories, and an introduction of a new character whom I will start to write for. With this, I would like to formally announce that my requests are open.

Here are the following gifts for the event which will only be unlocked after a few conditions. Think of it as a game or a scratch card.

- Namor x Reader fic: Coming soon, 0 conditions

- 3 Anthony Bridgerton x Reader headcanon requests: 10 author asks

- 3 ABC Brothers x Reader headcanon requests: 100 notes per Anthony Bridgerton headcanon

- 3 Druig x Reader headcanon requests: +10 reblogs on all Druig stories on my master list

- Eddie Munson x Reader requests: 0 conditions for the first request, 100 notes per previous request

- Steve Harrington x Reader requests: 0 conditions for the first request, 100 notes per previous request

- Other character x Reader requests: 0 conditions for the first request, 100 notes per previous request

- SPECIAL GIFTS, 0 Conditions to write: 2 smut fic requests of ANY character, 2 angst requests of ANY character, 2 fluff requests of ANY character

Get to requesting! I will be posting author asks soon. I hope you guys enjoy the future fics. I’ll be waiting for your requests on my request box.

Also, I would like to explain myself on these conditions that I laid out. Although I have been gaining followers and have been gaining traction on my posts, I would like to come back and make my Tumblr more active. I firgured that more interaction on my page from me and from you will allow more activity. Anyways, that’s all. Don’t forget to be guided by my request rules and regulations!

see you!

xo, E

Photo collage: @writers-hes

Tag: #writers-hes a gift from me to you

[sunofpandora]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

  

  ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

  ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

  ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Angel

𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧 

𝙏𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 

𝙂𝙤𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 🏹🤍

About The Writer

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ✯ Solana/18/capricorn

┊ ┊ ┊ ✯ I surf 🏄‍♀️

┊ ┊ ✯ art and film student

┊ ✯ Zuni, Apache, Black, and Trinidadian/Caribbean

✯ Benedict Bridgerton is everything to me .

𝓕𝓤𝓝 𝓕𝓐𝓒𝓣𝓢

☆I’m currently living in the US but I’ve kinda lived all over.

☆The last place I lived was New Zealand, and I travel a lot with my partner who studies cultural architecture. 

☆ I use my real name lol. feel free to call me Sol, or Lana, or whatever!

☆ I have two cats, one named Dolores, and another named Trudy (after the avatar 2009 character), and one dog named Amori

☆ I speak French, Spanish, English, and Shiwi (Zuni Language.)

☆ I study art and film, specifically story structure and cinematography. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

✮I write for any gender x any gender reader inserts.

☽ y/n will most likely be poc coded (non-euro centric creatures described, etc.)

R U L E S     A N D    D E T A I  L S

Nsfw is aloud but nothing crazy. (By that I’m not calling any of anyone’s kinks “crazy” what I mean like super, super intense bdsm, knife play, gun play, blood kinks, incest, stepcest, (let’s just say anything ending in ‘cest’ is a no.) and everything MUST be consensual.)

I’m a bit hesitant about writing human x na’vi nsfw and I probably won’t write human reader x na’vi fluff. It’s just I have a hard time visually imagining a human and a na’vi having sex without an avatar body. I am not against the idea in any way, but the general concept does throw me off a bit (I always imagine some type of detrimental injury occurring bc we are so smol compared to na’vi)

In all, I’m not the biggest fan of writing for a human reader, and will probably turn down requests for a human x Na’vi fic.

I will however, absolutely write for avatar reader x na’vi character of any sort! Or even a half-human half na’vi reader or some kind of biracial na’vi? (I’ve seen that concept a few times in the fandom an it’s honestly so much fun)

I do allow things like comfort for self harm, abuse, traumatic experiences, racism, etc. but these things will never be romanticized.

Y/n won’t have a name. Sorry, I just don’t see the point in x reader if the reader has a name. I will always refer to them as Y/n.

I write for a female reader for the most part but please, if you want any other pronouns please let me know in your request.

Y/n will always be of any size! That includes plus size or on the skinnier size. If you would like me to specify that in your request let me know.

I do age up my characters. If you don’t like it you can head out.

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ⋆˖⁺‧

T H E      H  E A V E N S

Details: Each character has their own sky object or natural phenomenon. Works and fics are found underneath the collages.

(important! This masterlist is not yet finished! More characters will be added later!!)

 Ａｖ��ｔａｒ Ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒ Ｗｏｒｋｓ⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙⋆｡°✩ ⋆

"Everything is backwards now, like out there is the true world, and in here is the dream."

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ๋࣭݁ ⭑🪩๋࣭ ⭑. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ๋࣭݁ ⭑🪩๋࣭ ⭑. ݁₊ ⊹

Kiri Sully-

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼

Sky object: crepuscular rays, Neptune 🌀

Works:

None, currently.

Lo’ak Sully

“Lo’ak was an anarchist of his own recklessness. His gaze grazed with fire unapologetically unable to sit still. 

Sometimes the smoke and ash become a haze of intangible adrenaline. preservations for one’s safety wither away under the charred sky.”

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼

Sky object:

Mars

Rainstorms

Works:

None currently.

Neteyam sully

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼

Sky object:

Golden hour

Sun rays 

Works:

Diphanous part 1

Diphanous part 2

Virago Series 🏹:

Spotify playlist

Chapter 1. Day the sky turned red

Chapter 2. The son sun made out of stone.

Chapter 3 part 1: Cupid wears a blindfold

Chapter 3 part 2: Aim your arrow at his heart as he holds it out for you to ruin.

Chapter 3 part 3.: Surrender to his saubade, he has set his soul and sin ablaze (to be yours)

Chapter 4: Nice going, Romeo.

Chapter 5: Honey, you’re familiar

More characters coming soon!

This blog supports Palestine!

see here for some stylish pro-Palestine jewelry!

[lookingfts]

Friday Fic Rec 11/1

Thanks as always for your submissions! Titles are links to each fic. Just a heads up that I’m going to move this to every other week now that I’m also busy with the @kanthonyprompts account. (Check that out if you’re interested!)

if the shoe fits, walk in it (til your high heels break) by @newtonsheffield

“Molly is rightfully one of the most popular Kate and Anthony writers in the fandom, and I wholeheartedly believe this is her most underrated story. It was one of the first Kate and Anthony fanfictions I read, and the first one I reread. I literally finished it, scrolled back up to the top, and read it again. This is uni Kate and Anthony captured perfectly. Pure fluff, a sweet, funny, engaging love story. I adore this story so much and think that if you're a fan of Molly's writing in particular and haven't read this gem, do it, now! You must!”

Description: Anthony Bridgerton is everything Kate Sharma hates about being at Oxford. Rich and entitled and cocky, so why does she keep ending up with her skirt rucked up around her waist with her fingernails digging into his back.

Complete - M - 14k words

there be fury on the waves by @rosycheeked

Description: Kate means to sail and win the Fastnet Race with her sailing partner, Benedict. Or, if not win, do well. Unfortunately, he comes down with mono the week before, and Anthony volunteers to take his place.

Complete - T - 14k words

open up your heart (like the gates of hell) by penny_loaf

Description: Kate is just trying to get food after work when she runs into her sister on a first date. A first date with Anthony Bridgerton.

Complete - E - 4k words

Safe Houses by Amerna 

Description: When CIA agent Kate Sharma first meets Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, it doesn’t take her long to figure out that beneath the carefully constructed cover of a profligate wastrel playboy he is actually a British spy. What follows is a game of cat and mouse all over Europe as the two battle for the same intelligence, the same sources, and the same material to remain one step ahead of each other – all while they go from rivals to begrudging allies to friends.

Complete - M - 16k words

LFTS rec: Nautical Skills by @juniper5x5

Juniper is one of my favorite Kanthony authors - just so many unique and creative plots and such simple but visceral prose. But this is high on my list - pirate queen Kathani and simp Anthony on the high seas.

Description: She was the captain of the pirate crew. She had to be. He had no way of knowing this for certain, of course, but to him it was obvious, plain as day. The way the others acted in deference towards her, the way she carried herself, how she lifted her chin high into the air – well, it made her look like the bloody queen of England, is what it did.

Complete - E - 17k words

Thanks to those who submitted! If I don't include a submission, it's because that fic has been recommended in previous weeks. You can find them all under the "lfts fic recs" tag!

[lifesizehysteria]

A Mother's Blessings | A Bridgerton Fic

Part 2: Hyacinth

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Characters: Violet Bridgerton, Marcus Anderson, Hyacinth Bridgerton, Kate Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton Summary: A collection of moments through Violet and Marcus’ courtship in which Violet seeks the blessings of her children. AO3 Part 1

Violet fanned her face, still desperate to cool herself from the oppressive summer heat, despite having moved inside. It seemed they had chosen the worst day possible for a family game of pall-mall; the sun was relentless and there was not a breath of wind nor a single cloud in the sky. The shade provided by the covered seating by the lawn offered little relief from the stifling temperatures, so they had sought refuge inside, filling the hallway with their usual raucous joy as they did so, before settling into a quieter cacophony in the drawing room.

“It is a shame Lord Bridgerton was unable to join us,” Marcus said.

“Yes, well…” Violet began, but found herself unable to provide any further excuse as to why her son had, once again, found a reason to avoid Lord Anderson’s company.

“He is quite busy preparing for our departure to India, I am afraid,” Kate supplied without missing a beat, though Violet caught the quick glance her daughter-in-law sent her direction. She offered her own smile in gratitude, patting the perspiration from her brow with the back of her hand.

“It is probably for the best,” Benedict said. “Our brother has a competitive streak unlike any other. He would have died of heat stroke before ending the game early.”

Marcus laughed. “Is that so?”

“It is true. I do not know where he gets it.” Violet shook her head, secretly grateful Anthony had not been there to insist the game continue. While the weather had been the excuse, Violet was sure it was really mercy that ended the game early. When Hyacinth had suggested they play, Marcus had agreed to join on the condition that Violet play, too. Despite her efforts otherwise, she had not been able to resist him or the children’s insistence. With reluctance, she joined the game, only to thoroughly humiliate herself, despite Marcus’ attempt to throw the game in her favor. They were all laughing so hard by the time they called it off, no one could have continued playing anyway.

“Ah, yes,” Marcus said, the richness of his voice sending a shiver down Violet’s spine. “I believe it is a trait shared by all eldest children. You have met my sister.” He flashed her a dazzling grin, his eyebrows arched knowingly.

“Indeed, I have,” she conceded with a laugh, fanning a new wave of heat from her cheeks and averting her gaze from his shining black eyes.

“Well, I think you could beat Anthony, Lord Anderson,” Hyacinth declared.

“Thank you for your vote of confidence, Miss Hyacinth. Though, if he is anywhere near as formidable an opponent as the Viscountess, I would not stand a chance.”

“I assure you, he is not,” Kate said, making everyone laugh. 

“Anthony certainly did meet his match in you, Sister,” Benedict said. 

“As we should all hope to do,” Marcus said, his eyes finding their way to Violet, who bit back a smile while her stomach did a somersault. 

Conversation continued to flow, but Violet grew quiet, watching. Marcus looked completely at ease among her brood, the portion of it that was present, at least. There was a noticeable camaraderie between him, Benedict, and Kate, their playfulness rather enjoyable to witness. And with the younger two, he was attentive and kind, including them in conversation and listening to them with genuine interest. Hyacinth was clearly enamored, and although he was a bit subdued, Gregory was receptive to him as well. 

“Lord Anderson, are you staying for lunch?” Hyacinth asked, pulling Violet back into the moment. 

“Hyacinth!” she chastised, though her daughter did not show an ounce of embarrassment at being so forward. “Please forgive my daughter’s lack of manners.”

Marcus held up a staying hand. “It is quite alright,” he assured her, then turned towards Hyacinth. “Thank you for the invitation. Unfortunately, I have already committed to lunch with my sister, so I cannot join you today. It is my sincerest hope that the offer may be extended for another day.”

Beaming, Hyacinth opened her mouth, but Violet cut her off before she could speak. “I am sure we can arrange something soon.”

“A picnic, perhaps!” Hyacinth jumped in, ignoring the wide-eyed look of warning from her mother. 

“Oh, a picnic would be lovely,” Kate agreed, barely concealing a smirk as Violet’s mouth dropped open.  

Marcus leaned closer to Hyacinth, dropping the volume of his voice to a whisper that was more than audible throughout the room. “I do love a picnic.”

When he grinned at Violet over his shoulder, she was caught between wanting to throw her arms around him and wishing a hole would open up beneath her feet and swallow her alive. If he and her children were already conspiring against her, she was not sure she would stand a chance at winning anything ever again. She stubbornly pursed her lips against a persistent smile and cleared her throat. 

“Well then, I suppose we’ll see what can be arranged. As long as the weather cooperates,” she added, if for no other reason than to feel as though she had not lost complete control. 

“Oh, goodie!” Hyacinth cheered, clapping her hands together as her curls bounced around her shoulders. Behind her, Benedict silently clapped as well, a teasing smirk directed at his mother. She narrowed her eyes at him, which he returned with a wink. He was bordering on impertinence and if she didn’t love him so much, she thought she could have killed him. 

“Until then,” Marcus said, standing up and addressing the room, “I am afraid I must take my leave. Anyone who knows what’s good for them does not make Agatha Danbury wait for her food.”

After a chorus of goodbyes, Violet sat back down on the settee, nestling into the corner. Kate came over from her spot by the window, managing to look as graceful as ever lowering herself onto the settee across from Violet, despite her ever growing belly. At the same time, Benedict wandered off without a word to anyone, leaving Gregory alone at the table. Hyacinth appeared beside her mother, kneeling on the cushion, her large green eyes bright with enthusiasm.

“Mama?” she asked, taking hold of Violet’s forearm in both her hands.

“Yes, dearest?” Violet patted her daughter’s hand, the affection in her voice unwavering despite a hint of weariness sneaking in. 

“When are we going to have our picnic with Lord Anderson?”

Violet let out a little laugh of surprise. “I do not know. I will arrange it and send him an invitation soon.”

Hyacinth beamed at her, turning to sit properly and leaning into her mother’s side. Violet wrapped her arm around her, pulling her in against her. 

“I do hope it is very soon. It will be such fun!”

“You seem to hold a great affection for Lord Anderson,” Kate pointed out. 

“Why shouldn’t I? He is kind and funny. He does not treat Gregory and me like small children who should not be allowed to speak. And most importantly, he makes Mama smile in a way I have never seen before.”

Violet’s eyes grew wide, her face suddenly hot again. 

“Are you going to marry him, Mama?”

Her eyes, widening even further, flew to Hyacinth, finding herself at a loss for words. After sputtering for a moment, she finally managed to ask, “Why ever would you ask such a question?”

Hyacinth straightened and tilted her head to one side. “Is that not the purpose of courting?”

A flutter of panic began to rise up the back of Violet’s throat. “Who told you we are courting?”

“It is quite obvious, Mama.” She looked at her mother, then over at Kate, then back again, doubt causing her face to fall. “You are courting, are you not?”

“I don’t…” Violet huffed, waving one hand in the air as if it would conjure the words she could not find. “To be quite honest, I do not know,” she finally said, her face twisting with unease.

Hyacinth’s brows knitted together. “It seems like you are courting,” she said.

Violet blinked and tipped her head to one side, acquiescing. “Yes, I… I suppose it does.”

“Do you want to be courted?”

Diverting her eyes again, Violet fidgeted with her skirt and offered a tight-lipped smile, wishing for the second time that the Earth could somehow swallow her whole.

“I, uh… I am, not sure,” a strained laugh escaped her throat. Part of her felt that this was not an appropriate subject for her daughter of just twelve, but she also understood that her decisions would ultimately affect Hyacinth’s life as much as they did her own, so she felt obliged to answer. She just wished she had had a bit more time to sort it out privately first. She cleared her throat and blinked hard before making herself meet her daughter’s eyes.

“I enjoy Lord Anderson’s company very much. You are right; he is kind and humorous, and I greatly appreciate how well he seems to get along with all of you. And even more so, there is a… companionship I feel with him that I have not had since your father died. It has been an unexpected joy to feel that again.” A small, unconscious smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

“And yet you have reservations?” Kate inquired gently.

“Yes.”

“What sort of reservations?” Hyacinth asked. 

“Well, dearest,” Violet spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. There were so many layers to her feelings, and not only were they not all appropriate for her young daughter to hear, but she also wanted to avoid becoming too emotional. Hyacinth was rightfully curious, and while Violet wanted to answer her questions, she did not want to burden her with problems that were Violet’s alone to resolve. “The purpose of courting, as you are clearly aware, is to marry. And I had not ever imagined marrying anyone but your father. I am not sure that I want to marry again, even someone with whom I share… affection.” She looked down at her daughter, picking nervously at the lace on the cuff of Hyacinth’s sleeve and took in a deep, slightly shaky breath. “It feels a bit like a betrayal. To him, and to the love that we shared, that I still feel to this day.”

Hyacinth studied her mother’s face, noting the worry lines that appeared between her brows. She wrapped her arm around Violet’s waist and laid her head against her chest, hugging her tightly for a moment while Violet returned the gesture by pulling her in closer. “I do not believe Papa would think it a betrayal,” Hyacinth said, sounding confident. 

Curious and a bit surprised, Violet’s eyebrows lifted. “Why not?”

“Because to think so would be selfish. I may not have known Papa, but I know that everyone says the two of you shared a true love. And if you have taught me anything, it is that love is not selfish.”

Violet felt tears prickle behind her eyes and she blinked them back with great effort. How could a child who had never even met Edmund sound so very much like him? With a lump in her throat, she pressed a kiss into her daughter’s hair and whispered, as much to Edmund as to Hyacinth, “You are right about that, my love.”

[queenkenzo24]

I fear I am a bad Polin fan. My favorite fic in the whole Bridgerton fandom is Penelope x Benedict. Polin is great and all, but there’s something kind of satisfying about Colin figuring out his feelings for Penelope too late. And the fics where Benedict paints Penelope are *chefs kiss*

[ladywhistlewrites]

new Bridgerton Fan Fiction alert!!

🩷🩷🩷

Hello everyone, my name is Kiki (the author) just wanted to make this post to inform you of the upcoming BridgertonXreader fic I just started writing!!

title: The Rose of Mayfair

plot:

At the beginning of a new season, a charming young lady makes her come in the London society.

Will she be able to captive the eye of the queen and bewitch her with kindness, wit and grace?

And mostly, would she play the match making game and be a mere pawn of the season or will she be the protagonist and maker of her own story, taking the rains of her own destiny?

Or perhaps she will breathe the air of libertinism and embrace the change of times?

author’s note:

this is going to be a third person pov, since I’m simply incapable of writhing both in first and second person (SUE ME I FIND IT CRINGE)

It’s still gonna be an X reader obv BUT I have yet to find the love interest for our dearest reader (the options are Benedict or Anthony… yep sorry Simon simps but I simply cannot picture him without Daphne 😭)

(anyway regarding the love interest I’ll simply see how the story will unfold… but I am open to suggestions!!)

ah, another thing dear reader!

English is not my first language so you’ll have to excuse me for any error you may find, I’m deeply open to KIND criticism and suggestions tho

anyway let me know what you think, any feedback is mostly appreciated!! 🩷

[sotwk]

Helloo! What are your thoughts on the new season of Bridgerton so far? ❤️

GIRRRRRL. I binged those 4 episodes so shamefully fast! Some quick thoughts:

Bridgerton Season 3 (some spoilers ahead)

Penelope is a gorgeous flower in full bloom and I am more convinced than ever that she, along with Robert, are going to inspire me to finally push out a Celrond fic.

I'm not sure how I feel about Colin and his whoring ways. Yes it adds to the complexity of his character, but it just makes me feel Penelope deserves better than him, but oh well.

The two scenes I most squealed at were: (1) when Colin was staring at Penelope's lips while she licked her fingers, and (2) the balloon mishap where Colin and the boys showed off muscle AND Lord Debling sliding to wrap his arms protectively around Penelope.

And yes, I absolutely had a crush on Lord Debling and I think he should give Cressida Cowper a chance.

Speaking of Cressida, I very much enjoy the fact that she is making me like her this season. I'm a big fan of shows/storylines making me do a total 180 on my opinion of a character.

Portia Featherington is the Ultimate Regency Mama and honestly, I become more and more of a fan with each episode. She's so skilled at navigating the circumstances of her family's fortune and the limitations of her gender in that society. This lady WORKS with that she's got and I find that inspiring.

Benedict is still the most handsome and charming of the Bridgerton brothers, imho. But such a silly slutty boy.

I am so glad Eloise hasn't made me hate her so far. I actually like how she's handled the rift between her and Penelope; she's not vindictive and still wishes her friend well. Based on the trailer for the second half, she just wants to protect Colin.

Controversial, but... I don't even miss Anthony and Kate. I guess I'm not really a fan and their storyline in general bores me.

I don't know where they're going with Violet and Lady Danbury's rake brother, but I'm not sure I like it.

I fully support the fan theory that Francesca is autistic or on the spectrum, but so far I don't find her storyline too interesting.

I hope Queen Charlotte and Lady Whistledown can just become besties. Think of all the things they can do together.

Thank you for asking for my thoughts! <3

Oh yes, there was this scene too. This show is just so damn tropey and I love it.