#benedict bridgerton x plus size reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alloftheimaginesblog · 6 months ago

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intoxicating {benedict bridgerton}

plot: you're an old family friend of the bridgertons', benedict hasn't seen you in years and when he does, boy does he fall fast.

character: benedict bridgerton x plus size female reader

note: i'm back bitchessss :)

You wrung your hands nervously in your lap as you waited for the carriage to stop. A gloved hand took yours, "Do not fret, my darling," your mama said, voice as sweet as honey, "they are old friends, you need not worry."

"I know, mama," you said forcing a quick smile, "I wonder if they will recognise me, it has been quite an age since we last met."

She rolled her eyes with a teasing smile, "Of course they will. You and Colin still keep in regular contact, hm?" You nodded. You and Colin had been the best of friends growing up, Violet Bridgerton had always teased maybe the two of you would grow up to fall in love but you were just friends, that is all. You and Daphne had been close too, with her just two years behind you, she was like the sister you never had. "And Daphne, of course... Perhaps Benedict will be there." She hadn't forgotten your crush on the elder Bridgerton brother.

Despite yourself, your cheeks felt hot and you quickly ducked your head trying to not show your mama your embarrassment, "Mama, hush." She laughed knowingly.

It had been years since you had last set eyes on any of the Bridgerton family and yet, Benedict still had a hold on you. You were a few years younger than him but growing up beside the Bridgertons', you couldn't help the crush that formed. And now, almost a decade since you had last seen any of them, he still had some sort of control over you.

"That was all but a childhood crush," you frowned, "I do not still like Benedict Bridgerton."

Oh but how wrong you were.

The carriage stilled and a moment later, the door swung open and you were looking out towards the Bridgerton house, the home you used to run around the halls of.

Oh dear lord.

Music and chatter filled the hall as people flocked inside. Tonight, the Bridgertons' were throwing a ball in honour of the late Lord Bridgerton as this is what would be his anniversary. You and your Mama had been invited and after just moving back to London, you jumped at the chance to reconnect with old friends.

Almost immediately, your mama was whisked away by Lady Danbury, "Go," your mama encouraged, "find your old friends. Have fun." You did not want her to go. If anything, you wanted to latch onto her the whole time. Being here, in uncertainty, filled you with dread and anxiety. You watched her go before you tentatively stepped further into the hall, looking around trying to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. Then, you saw him.

Benedict Bridgerton.

He was older, of course he was, he would be eight and twenty now with you four years behind. His dark hair was tousled to absolute perfection, his eyes glinting in the light as he laughed with some men you looked very similar - Colin and it must've been Anthony. They were all so extraordinarily handsome; same dark hair and same sharp jawline. Seeing Benedict sent a flurry of butterflies into your stomach. He was so handsome, so effortlessly charming; one smile and you were gone. All at once, you felt like you were thirteen again giggling and blushing at the mere sight of him.

It was then a squeal sounded from beside you, "(y/n)!" And you were enveloped in a warm hug. It was Daphne, you realised and eased into the hug, "Oh, (y/n), it is simply delightful to see you again!" When she pulled away, you could appreciate how she had grown up into a beautiful young woman.

"Daphne," you beamed, "you are... Look at you!" You hugged her tightly again, "It is so wonderful to be back."

After your hellos, Daphne linked arms with you and began to walk with you, "I heard from my Mama that you met your match with a certain Duke of Hastings." At the mention of her new husband, Daphne's face split into a wide grin.

"Oh, we have so much to catch up on, (y/n)!"

It had been an hour or so since you had arrived at the Bridgerton Ball and you and Daphne had stood in the corner of the room catching up on any and all life events over the course of the last decade. You may have still written to each other every month but it was different getting to explore such events in person. She was wed to the Duke of Hastings which meant she was a Duchess, "Oh, you shall have to come and visit us. It is just so grand!" She clutched your hand and smiled so wide and you could feel her happiness radiating from her being.

"How rare it is," you mused, "a love match." You had always hoped it would happen to you but it just did not. A marriage was not your first priority at the minute but you did always hope for a love match as rare as they were.

"It was not always going to be one. At first we drove each other mad but soon, it developed and now..." She looked down at her lemonade with a wide smile, "and..." Her eyes shifted ensuring no one else was watching and when she finally landed back on you, her eyes were aglow with excitement, "we have a secret." Her left hand fell to her stomach and it took everything in you to not scream with excitement for her.

"Oh, Daphne!" You beamed, hugging her tightly, "What wonderful news!"

"You must not tell anyone, it is only my mother and Simon that know. I have not yet told my siblings."

"I swear, your secret is safe with me."

It was then you felt a tap on the shoulder, "Mi'lady, I do believe that after this many years of not seeing each other, you do owe me a dance." His voice was deeper now but still familiar, still warm like honey.

"Colin!" You turned and found him opening his arms to you which you moved into happily. A little much for being in public but neither of you cared. The Bridgertons' didn't exactly like following rules anyway. He was taller with that same dark hair as his brothers and that chiselled jawline. When he pulled back it was then you could appreciate the beauty of time. He, too, was handsome and his eyes were still so kind, something that was rare these days. When he extended his hand, you gladly accepted his invitation to dance.

Daphne moved to find her elder brothers as Colin whisked you onto the dance floor. Benedict welcomed Daphne over with a wide smile and went to take a drink from his champagne when he suddenly stilled, eyes focused on something - or rather someone. "Something troubling you?" Daphne nudged him though she already had a feeling she knew what he was about to ask.

He lowered his drink, "Who is that delectable thing that Colin is dancing with and how in the world did he ever manage to get her to agree to dance with him?"

Daphne laughed slightly, "Why, brother, do you not recognise her? Perhaps you should take a closer look." Benedict squinted. You and Colin were laughing, your smile wide and happy as you threw your head back. You were exquisite and then it clicked.

"(y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Oh," Anthony nodded, "so it is. My, how she has really grown up, mm brother?" He nudged Benedict's side with a knowing smirk. Anthony knew fine well what his brother would be thinking and feeling at the mere sight of you. You were gorgeous and you were exactly Benedict's type.

Benedict swallowed. When you were growing up, with him being four years older, he just thought you were some annoying kid who would blush every time he spoke to you. He remembered that you and Colin were best friends, always together causing chaos and Benedict had participated sometimes but other than that, he kept his distance. He was four years older and when you were children, that seemed like two different worlds. However now was different. You were an adult, four and twenty to his eight and twenty, that was barely anything.

Anthony was right. You had filled out and grown into yourself. Before when you were timid and shy, you now were confident and proud. You did not care that you and Colin kept forgetting steps and kept trodding on the other's toes because you were so caught up in the moment of being reunited. Your cheeks rosy and warm, lips plump and red, eyes glittering in the candlelight... You had filled out perfectly with curves in exactly the right places, full and soft. Benedict swallowed and briefly closed his eyes before he made his decision.

"Excuse me," he said as he drained the remnants of his glass and thrust the champagne flute hastily in Anthony's direction. Anthony smirked, taking it and placing it onto a nearby waiter's tray. He and Daphne watched him weave his way through the crowd to stop beside you and Colin.

"May I cut in?" He asked.

Startled, you looked at him, face immediately heating up as you realised who was asking to dance with you. Benedict's eyes bore into your own, he never once looked to his younger brother and instead focused all of his attention on you. It made you nervous. You looked to Colin who rolled his eyes, "You know it is rather rude to interrupt a dance, brother. The dance is just about to end-"

"I did not ask you, Colin." Your eyes moved from Colin to Benedict who repeated his question though his tone was softer when he spoke to you, "May I cut in?"

The confidence he had seen in you moments previous seemed to vanish. He smirked knowing that he made you nervous. Words were lost and all you could do was nod. Colin rolled his eyes again, "She is all yours, Ben." He dropped your hands and Benedict picked them back up again, never breaking eye contact with you.

Your heart hammered hard in your chest as you and Benedict began to dance. The music ended and yet, here the two of you were still dancing on a dancefloor that was beginning to clear. Yes, the next song would start in a few minutes but this... this was improper. This was considered impolite to a lot of people; scandalous. From your left, you could see your mama standing with Lady Bridgerton, Violet, and they were... smiling? They did not seem to be angered by yours and Benedict's continuing dance, instead they looked happy? Around you, you could feel the eyes on you and you could practically hear the gossip being shared around the room. Daphne had filled you in about Lady Whistledown and you knew that you would definitely be featured in tomorrow's issue. You were certainly making a lasting impression. Benedict could see that confidence falter and his words broke you out of your thoughts, "Ignore it, ignore them all... Look at me, focus on me." You took a breath and met his eyes again and oddly enough, instead of feeling nervous or embarrassed, a calmness washed over you when you looked at him, "There," he smiled, "Better?"

You nodded, "Better."

"When did you return to London? Was it France you were?"

"Day before yesterday," you said, "Yes, we moved to France. My father had business but my family could move back since my father's work brought him back here. We were able to move back into our old home."

Benedict smiled, "The one with the cherry trees outside and apple trees in the back, yes?" You nodded, "How long has it been since you left?"

"A long time," you laughed slightly, "Around ten years."

"Are you glad to be back?" He asked. He seemed to move with such skill and ease, dancing came naturally to him whereas it took you years of practice to be able to do a good waltz.

"You know, you ask a lot of questions," you teased making Benedict smile, "Yes, I am. It is nice to be back home and lovely to be back with old friends."

Benedict nodded, "So you are not missing anyone from back in France then?"

Smirking, you asked, "Is this your way of asking if I am wed or to be wed or even as much as being courted, Benedict?"

The older Bridgerton boy laughed, "Clearly I was not as discreet as I wanted to be." The violinists began to pick up signalling the second dance was starting and the dancefloor began to fill with people again. Benedict switched dancing styles with ease and a smile.

"To answer your question, no. Friends, yes, but nothing more than mere friends."

"Really?" The corners of his mouth turned upwards, "I must say, that surprises me greatly."

Your eyebrow quirked, "And why is that, Lord Bridgerton?"

"Look at you," he lowered his head so that he was now only mere inches from you, "absolutely divine." Once again, your heart began to thud as your whole body grew heated, "Forgive me for overstepping but you are the most beautiful woman in this place, in the whole Ton. You are simply intoxicating."

You couldn't look at him, too flustered to do anything except let out a giggle which only furthered your embarrassment. It was like you were a girl again, giggling and blushing. Benedict's hand let go of yours as he placed his thumb and index finger on your chin, tilting your head upwards to look at him in the eyes, "Do not hide," he whispered. The two of you slowed and then stilled in the middle of the dance floor, "You need not hide from me."

You couldn't help it but your eyes fleeted to his lips. You had grown up wanting nothing more than to be noticed by him and now, here you were. He had finally noticed you.

Then all at once, all of a sudden it dawned on you where you were and what was happening. You cleared your throat, taking a step away from Benedict and dropping away from his touch, "Lord Bridgerton," you said, curtseying and once again hiding your face from him, "I think we have perhaps overstayed our welcome on the dance floor."

With haste, you turned and left the dance floor. Benedict didn't follow, not yet. He had moved too fast, went too far. Clearing his throat, he forced a smile to some gossiping onlookers before he went to find his brothers.

You had not stayed long at the Bridgerton Ball after that, finding your heart wouldn't stop racing and your mind wouldn't stop replaying what had happened. You hadn't wanted to leave so soon but after hearing an unpleasant comment from a rather unpleasant girl, you found your mama, made your excuses and the two of you made your way home.

"Poor girl does not even realise that Lord Bridgerton was only dancing with her out of sheer pity. How on Earth could he ever truly be with someone that looks like that? He was merely pitying her, clearly."

The comment had not stopped repeating in your mind extinguishing the burning hope that Benedict's eyes set alight the moment he looked into yours. How stupid of you to think even for a moment that he had finally noticed you after all this time? How stupid of you to hope that he could feel for you the way that you felt for him? How stupid.

And then Lady Whistledown had something to say about it as well. Daphne and Colin had told you about Lady Whistledown in their letters but you never actually expected to feature in one of the issues!

It seems as though, dear reader, a certain Bridgerton man may be off the market soon enough. An old friend returned to the Ton, (y/n) (y/l/n), and it seems that she made quite the impression on the eligible bachelor. They seemed rather taken with each other that they continued to dance despite the song ending... rather impolite and improper if you ask me, dear reader. However, the dance ended rather abruptly with (y/n) leaving Lord Bridgerton on the dance floor in the middle of a dance. All we know about (y/n) (y/l/n) so far is that she likes to break rules and cause scenes and is this the impression she wants to make? If so, then perhaps she is a good fit for Lord Bridgerton after all. Only time will tell.

You had spent the last few days hiding in the safety of your bedroom. Your mama had tried to coax you out for an early morning promenade but you had declined. Although Lady Whistledown's writing was not at all bad - for she had certainly said worse of others before - you had not wanted to create a scene or cause such a stir. You were horrified at your actions; being improper and impolite on your first night back into society and then with Benedict. You had let him fool you and the reality of that crushed you so heavily. For one small moment, you had let yourself be fooled.

Your mama burst into your room with your handmaidens rushing to keep up with her, "Get dressed, (y/n), we are going out."

"Mama, I do not feel well, I cannot-"

"I know what happened with Benedict has left you embarrassed but I assure you, my darling, Violet was not mad at all. She and I laughed about it, reminiscing about ourselves breaking the rules with our significant others. The ball was for her late husband and you and Benedict reminded her of him... I would say that means you left a good impression."

You rolled your eyes, falling back onto your pillows, "I simply cannot show my face ever again, mama. We have to go back to France."

She laughed loudly, "All because of this? Do not be so silly, child," she perched on the edge of your bed, "My darling, it will pass. Lady Whistledown is already onto new topics, the rest of the Ton will be too. You cannot hide away forever besides... we have been invited for dinner."

"Where?"

She faltered, "It is with the Bridgertons'." Before you could refuse, your mama cut over you, "Violet wanted to extend an invite to welcome us back home, that is all. It would be rude to not attend."

"But he will be there, mama!"

"Why are you so against seeing him again?" She asked curiously, "From where I stood it looked like the two of you were getting along perhaps a bit too well." You bit your lip and looked at your hands. Your mama frowned, "(y/n)?"

"I got caught up in the moment and I let myself hope that it could turn into something but then..." Your mama gestured for you to continue, "A girl made a comment and it made me realise that Lord Bridgerton would never go for a woman like me. I am simply not enough." Tears burned in your eyes and that dark feeling of shame burned strong in your stomach.

"My darling girl," your mama crooned, scooting closer to hold your hands, "I saw the way that man looked at you and that was not a man with bad intentions. After you left, he looked crestfallen and sulked all night. A man who would be wanting to make a fool of you would have gone to his friends and laughed and drank but no... Violet told me that he in fact left shortly after we did, returned to his chambers for the night. That is a man with the intentions of fooling you."

"But I am not enough for him, mama."

She held your hands so tight, eyes boring into your own, "Yes, you are. You are everything and more and if not for him then you will be for someone else. You are worthy and deserving of love and respect, my darling, so do not dare settle for less."

The two of you spent another few minutes with your mama praising you and helping you to realise that what the girl had said was pure jealousy and not true. You felt better, not fixed but better. You felt well enough to accept Lady Bridgerton's invitation of dinner despite the nerves that bubbled in your stomach.

Once again, you found yourself nervously waiting in the carriage to go to the Bridgerton home though this time was entirely different. You were not nervous to see your friends, no, you were terrified of seeing Benedict. You took a breath, stilling your hands and trying your best to calm your heartrate.

"We have arrived," your mama said as the carriage slowed then stopped. The door swung open a moment later, "Relax," she whispered into your ear as you walked to the door, "you look gorgeous." You did, in all fairness. You were wearing one of the dresses your father had made for you from France, the fabrics were rich and soft and the colour made your eyes shine. You looked divine.

Here we go.

Lady Bridgerton greeted you at the door with a wide smile and a warm hug, "Welcome," she greeted kindly, "come, let us go to the dining room."

You followed closely behind and let Lady Bridgerton lead you to the dining room, "It is just as I remember," you smiled fondly, admiring the paintings that adorned the wall, "how lovely."

Lady Bridgerton led you into the one of the living areas, "I must apologise, dinner is running a little behind schedule but it should not take too much longer. (y/n), Daphne is in the library if you would like to be with her until dinner is ready?"

Thankful that you hadn't laid eyes on Benedict yet, you nodded and wandered the halls. It was like muscle memory, you remembered exactly where you had to go and which way to turn and it wasn't long before you were shutting the door behind you seeing Daphne smile up at you.

"I am so glad to see you!" She said with a welcoming hug, "I was worried that you would not attend after..."

"After me running from your ball and disappearing from society for a few days?"

Daphne smiled sympathetically, "What happened?"

"I danced with him - Benedict - and I... God, Daphne, I felt like a child again. I was giggling and blushing and he seemed genuinely interested."

"So what on Earth happened for you to run out?"

You groaned, "He was saying all of the right things and I thought for a moment he might feel the same and I panicked... Your mama must hate me, I have been so improper. I got caught up in-"

Daphne placed a reassuring hand on your arm, "(y/n), calm down. My mama actually was rather happy to see you and Benedict dancing and breaking the rules. As was your mama. I overheard them talking and laughing saying how it reminded them of themselves when they were younger. You need not fret."

"That is what my mama said but I-"

"I said, calm," Daphne said with a laugh, "It will be fine, I assure you. Though I do have a question... why did you flee from Benedict? From what you are telling me, it seems like you still have feelings so why run if he is seemingly showing similar signs of want? Why have you been absent from society for a few days?"

You shook your head, "It is stupid but... Daphne, look at me." Daphne frowned, "I am not small nor am I petite like you and the other girls. I am larger, there is more to me than normal."

"I am not understanding."

"Benedict has always been so desirable, so handsome and charming whilst I... I have never been noticed. I have always been in the shadows. It cannot be true that Benedict would even for one second would notice me, it simply cannot be true." You looked to Daphne who was looking past you, looking at the doorframe and when you followed her gaze, your heart sank. Benedict.

"Sister, do you think you could give us the room?" Benedict asked softly.

"I shall leave you two for a few minutes but I will stand outside the door and will alert if there happens to be anyone coming." She squeezed your hand on the way past and gave a nod to her brother. Benedict only stepped forwards when the door was shut behind her.

He approached carefully and slowly as though you were a skittish kitten and he was trying to not scare you, "How could you say those things about yourself?" He sounded genuinely wounded by your words as though he actually cared.

"Why are you here, Lord Bridgerton?" Your voice was colder than you intended but he knew that it was you putting your guard up. You were afraid of being hurt so he did not mind if it meant you were colder to him. He would get you to trust him.

Benedict scoffed slightly, "This is my house too, you know, Lady (y/l/n)." Had you not been so terrified you would've laughed at his pettiness to give you your title, "I was also searching for you. I wanted to see you before dinner."

"You found me. I am well. You may go."

"You cannot dismiss me from my own home, (y/n)."

"I can try."

Benedict sucked a deep breath in through his nose, "Why are you fighting against me? Why are you so angry?" He swallowed, "Did I... Did I overstep or offend you the other night at the ball? If I did, I must extend my sincerest apologies-"

You looked at him and you wanted to cry. He meant it so sincerely. You could see in his eyes how deeply sorry he was if he had offended you and it broke your walls. You shook your head, "It was not you, Benedict." Your voice quivered pitifully, "I... I let myself get wrapped up in a fantasy and I panicked."

"What fantasy?"

It was now or never, "The fantasy where you finally saw me, finally noticed me; finally felt for me. I am sure you must have known I had the biggest crush on you when I was a child and it seems that it is still here. While we danced, I let myself belief you would maybe perhaps feel the same. I was stupid and childish and other people noticed too."

"Whatever do you mean?" His expression was unreadable but his voice was soft, "What people?"

"As I was leaving... Some girl made a comment about you dancing with me out of pity; that you would not be genuinely interested in me, you were just pitying me. Look at me, Benedict, and then look at you..."

Benedict frowned, "Do you believe that?"

"I..." Your mouth opened and then snapped shut when you saw his gaze, "I had hoped it not be true."

He took a step towards you and you found yourself rather hot and breathless like all of the air was being sucked out of the air, "(y/n), I never saw you when you were younger, I was older and thought nothing more of you than my sister's friend, I admit that to be true... But now... You are divine, you are intoxicating, (y/n). You are driving me insane! You are beautiful - your body, your face, your smile; but you are far more than that." He laughed loudly before rubbing a hand over his face, "You have consumed me. I have spent the last three days in society waiting for you, searching for you; needing to see you again. I have no been able to stop thinking about you; your laugh, your lips, the way we danced... I have pestered Colin trying to make him give me some of your letters so that I may hear your voice in my head, smell the faint smell of your perfume..." He breathed deeply and you hadn't realised but now, your chests were pressed together and you were staring up at him completely helpless. You felt like this was all a dream, surely you would wake up in few moments and this would all be a figment of your imagination... But no, here you were with Benedict Bridgerton professing his love to you.

"I..." He swallowed hard, "I do not wish to take something of yours that does not belong to me but if you want it, if you want me then I will be yours so completely and wholly." His blue eyes bore into yours, "I will be yours if you want me."

His admission had your heart racing and your cheeks were on fire, "I-I have been yours for a decade, Benedict. Always just yours."

Benedict's face split into a wide grin and then your eyes were fluttering shut as he leaned down and kissed you. Your first ever kiss shared with the boy you had loved from being a child. It was then Daphne wrapped her knuckles on the door and you and Benedict were snapped apart both slightly flushed and breathless. Daphne opened the door and let herself in, "Mama's coming, Ben."

Benedict pressed a kiss to your hand, "There is no point in waiting, I suppose," he shrugged, "What say you to marrying me? I apolgise it is not romantic in the slightest or planned out but why wait? You waited a long enough time." Daphne squealed and your jaw dropped, "You have a few seconds before my mother bursts through that door, (y/n)... What is your answer?" He teased with a grin, "Take a leap of faith with me or run away again? What is your choice?"

All you could do was nod and at that moment, the door swung open to reveal Violet Bridgerton, "Dinner is- what is wrong?"

"Mother, get the champagne!" Benedict grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders and twisting you to face his mother, "We are to be wed!"

You winced in anticipation, expecting Violet's reaction to be angry but instead, she gasped and grinned before rushing to you both to hug you tightly. When she pulled away, her eyes were filling with tears, "Oh, my loves," she crooned as she caressed both of your cheeks, "Welcome to the family, (y/n)... Let us go celebrate, hm?"

#reader insert #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #plus size reader #imagine #one shot #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton #os

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rose-edith · 7 months ago

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Being a plus size Bridgerton sister would include:

•All your life you’d felt like an imposter, bigger than your sisters- sturdier- curvier. You felt less than, despite being physically more than. And you felt that no one ever really understood that.

•Your mother and Lady Danbury saw no flaws in you, thought you were absolutely beautiful, and kind and clever- but they believed you were simply crippling shy. So naturally, they went out of their way to help ‘bring you out of your shell’. Which yes, was as utterly hellish as it sounds! It meant rounds of introductions to eligible men, being pushed to the centre stage at all family functions, dressed in more jewels than anyone else. They really wanted to make you sparkle, because to them, you were already a diamond. You had been the apple of your Father’s eye before his death, and everytime Violet looked at you, it was Edmund she could see.

•as for the Queen? You may well not exist. She wasn’t even the slightest bit perplexed or excited by you. Which suited you fine!

•Anthony is SO protective of you, and following his marriage to Kate, she becomes protective of you too. Kate and Anthony stare at any members of the ton who even dream of thinking anything unkind.

•On his travels, Colin makes sure to collect for you the most beautiful jewellery or paintings or fabrics. Colin is tender with all his siblings, but he’s the one who listens to you most when you’re upset- he’s the one who sees it, and does his best to support you and build your confidence. Whether it’s fashionable or not to dance with your own sister, Colin will always take you for at least one turn about the floor; he can’t bare for you to be overlooked or be left ‘on the shelf’.

•Benedict is also your number one fan, at balls and social events he’ll often help you to escape- whether he takes you for a turn about the room, to get a drink, or to help you leave early if you’re just not feeling it.

•Growing up, you couldn’t help but be envious of Daphne, of her looks, her success on the marriage mart, her beautiful life with Simon. But as you grew, she showed you that real beauty comes from within anyway. Simon loves you too, finding you to be amusing, clever and witty. As for their children- well, you’re their favourite Aunt!

•Eloise was aloof as ever, she understood rationally and practically why you were somewhat on the outskirts of society. But she enjoyed not being the only one on the outside looking in; and sometimes when she needed an out you would cause a diversion, and vice versa; Eloise was an ally!

•and hand in hand with Eloise came a friendship with Penelope. You realised almost immediately that Pen was Lady Whistledown, but you never told a soul. Not Pen, not Eloise, not anyone. You were proud of Pen for using the harsh reality of a lonely life to create something meaningful; to carve her own career. Penelope was your friend, though she was Eloise’s best friend. She was at your side when Cressida cut across your heart with her barbs and remarks, and when Cressida “accidentally” cut Penelope up, spilt her drink or split her dress, you would retaliate in kind- most notably resulting in her perfectly smoothed down hair getting dislodged when she “tripped” over your out-stretched foot at the drinks table. ‘Poor Cressida!’ You had cried with devilish delight. ‘What an awful spectacle to befall you!’ The music stopped and everyone turned to look as the mighty Cressida crumbled. What an elated victory indeed.

•Francesca was in and out of your lives, going to Bath and escaping the misery of a lonely life in London. But she would send you music; and suddenly the world wasn’t so blue.

•Your favourite people of all to be around though? Hyacinth and Gregory. They were young, brains like sponges ready to learn and laugh and they love you without reservation. You spend afternoons drilling them with dances, playing archery, games, stealing cakes from the kitchens.

•but like all your family, there’s only one thing you ever wanted really: to find love. You just weren’t foolish enough to believe you’d find it yet, but maybe, just maybe, you’d be surprised when love fell directly into your lap.

#Bridgerton #Bridgerton x reader #Bridgerton reader #Bridgerton fanfic #Bridgerton imagine #Bridgerton headcanons #plus size reader #Anthony Bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #kate x anthony #eloise bridgerton

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cerisereids · 9 months ago

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𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

characters i write for

(i no longer take requests, sorry!)

criminal minds: aaron hotchner, spencer reid, derek morgan, emily prentiss, luke alvez

stranger things: eddie munson, steve harrington, robin buckley, nancy wheeler

tasm: peter parker (andrew garfield’s peter only)

bridgerton: benedict, anthony, colin, kate

𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗱

some bunny special- dad!spencer x fem!reader

please don’t have somebody waiting on you- s1!spencer x bau!reader

lovely to sit between comfort and chaos, part 1- spencer reid x fem!reader

part 2

in the mirror of your eyes, my love, my life- young dad!spencer reid x bau!mom!reader

is it that sweet? i guess so!- later seasons!spencer reid x plus size!liason!reader

time makes you bolder, children get older- young dad!spencer reid x bau!mom!reader

blurbs found under the tag- belle’s blurbs s.r.

𝗮𝗮𝗿𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗻𝗲𝗿

we can’t be friends (wait for your love)- complete

part 2

part 3

part 4

blurbs found under the tag- belle’s blurbs a.h.

𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝘁 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻

good old fashioned lover boy- benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

𝘀𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻

blurbs found under the tag- belle’s blurbs s.h.

𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶�� 𝗺𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗼𝗻

the boy is mine- eddie munson x fem!reader

460 notes · View notes

crazyk-imagine · 11 months ago

Text

There’s a Heat Between Us, You Must Admit

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Plus size!rader

Characters: Plus size!reader, Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Violet Bridgerton, Mildred “Millie” Nightington (reader’s cousin), Bernard (the servant), Eloise Bridgerton, Francesca Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton, Hyacinth Bridgerton, Simon Bassett, Augie Bassett

Warnings: Anthony is an idiot, the bee scene (mainly from the book scene), drama, Daphne doesn’t want to see her friend end up alone, reader gives Anthony the biggest side eye ever, reader and Anthony are idiots, Millie is a sweetheart, reader and Anthony are competitive, the sideburns line was something I learned about, reader is stubborn, Anthony is oddly very emotional in this, reader knows a lot of things, reader doesn’t know how to deal with her emotions, pregnancy scare, the pregnancy scare reminds me of a sitcom

Word Count: 13,647

A/N: Reader’s last name is Starlington and also, super excited to have finally finished this one.

*1,700 follower celebration post*

Also, Happy Valentine’s day!!

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Sometimes you loved your dear friend Daphne and other times you didn't, right now for example, you don't.

Honestly you don’t know how this got brought up (again) but you’d wish she would stop; it’s not going to happen even if she wants you to officially join her family.

You knew her being the first to marry out of the two of you was going to lead to more of her shenanigans, but this was too much for you.

You sigh, setting your cup down to look her in the eyes, “I have no plans on being in this season.”

Her shoulder sagged, “I understand that but-”

“But, nothing. Daphne, I am more than content with my being staying very much untied to a man. If I happen to meet someone worth it, you’ll know.”

Anthony glances over in your direction and his mind goes elsewhere.

You’re his sister’s best friend who also became Benedict’s best friend soon after you met the rest of his family.

He isn’t particularly upset at the fact that you’ve managed to befriend his siblings (slightly better than he could) but, there’s something that keeps bringing a certain idea to the front of his mind.

“Are you going to take your turn or continue staring?” Benedict asks.

The eldest shrugs off his brother’s comment.

Anthony uses the dreaded “death mallet” and once again, manages to pass the others.

Daphne heads towards her siblings before they can scream and shout at her for sitting down instead of taking her turn.

You sigh, shoulders sagging because you know she means no harm; you know that but, you can’t force yourself to love and care for someone you don’t have feelings for.

You’d never admit it (out loud or to her) but there are nights where you do wonder how it would be if you did get married to someone you loved.

The concerning part is how her brother sneaks into your mind; not your closest friend, Benedict, or the third oldest, Colin, and of course not, Gregory.

No, Anthony is the one to invade your mind and corrupt your dreams with his charming smile and smooth movements.

And you would never dare tell Daphne or your cousin of your thoughts; no matter how hard she tries to convince you he feels something for you.

You take a deep breath, returning your focus onto the game only to meet a pair of oak brown eyes gazing upon you.

You tear your gaze away at the sounds of Violet walking down the stairs, carrying a smiling Augie in her arms earning a smile from you as you observe the happy baby.

You glance towards her and offer a polite smile, giving her a moment to settle down in the free chair before turning to focus on the young babe. “Hello, Augie,” you greet him with a baby tone and shake his chubby fingers.

“He’s always taken with you,” Violet comments.

“I am the one who always manages to search for his mother when he cries for her. Sometimes I believe myself to be a dog.”

She chuckles, “that’s not it.”

“Why else would he like me?”

“You have a natural instinct that he senses. Children know these things.”

“If that’s what you say.”

Daphne steps away from the others, wanting to see her child. “She is right, you know.”

“Not you too,” you groan.

“You will make a fantastic mother.”

“Someday.”

“It could happen sooner than one would think.”

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing.”

Anthony stares back at you once more, observing the way you interact with his dear nephew. As he searches for someone to call wife, his most secretive thoughts keep coming to mind. The more he searches and the longer you stay, the more he finds himself wondering.

His mother continues to help him in his search for a wife albeit reluctantly since she finds herself so fond of you. She’d never explicitly tell him to pursue you but, she could always kindly ease him into the right direction, which is when his disbelief comes to the surface, truly believing you to feel nothing for him.

He knows if he tried to pursue you and it fell through, he will have ruined a lifelong friendship for his family- as he watches Daphne hold her purple mallet for you to take- he realizes he can’t pursue you.

Not that he’d ever given it any real thought, but he’d never be able to forgive himself if he was the reason, you stopped coming by.

You shake your head.

She puts it in your hand, persuading you into taking her place so she can attend to Augie.

You step down from the seating area with little energy.

His sister offers encouraging nods.

“I see you finally came to join us,” comments Anthony.

You avoid his gaze- you can barely stand beside him. “Not like I wanted to,” you reply.

“You’re scared to lose?”

You scoff, turning to look up at him, “that is not what I said.”

He smirks, leaning closer to you, “you didn’t have to.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “we’ll see who’s laughing when I win.” You walk away, taking your turn. You’re satisfied until you sense him behind you.

He follows you, “for someone who didn’t want to play earlier, you’ve certainly found your spirit.”

“Or was it a trick?” You smirk, glancing at him when the ball rolls through the metal hoop with ease. “You look nice,” you comment, turning around to walk away.

Anthony’s brows furrow together, his body takes over as he steps closer to you, standing beside you. “What do you mean?”

You turn, struggling to find the right words without sending the wrong message. “I only meant you look nice. You know, people- people can actually see your face now.”

He continues to stare at you.

“Your sideburns were nice but it- they- people may have assumed you grew them to hide what lies in your heart.”

“And what do you think lies there?” The words escape him before he could process his thoughts.

“I believe the love for your family and future wife is there, along with the care and compassion you hold for them. I do have to admit, I am a bit glad you shaved.”

He tilts his head, “and why is that?”

“I was afraid you would have continued growing them and at some point, they would connect,” you use both hands the gesture from your sideburns to your upper lip, “and you would look as though you were wearing a mask of sorts,” you say with one hundred percent seriousness until you think about it and snicker, covering your face with your hand.

Anthony is also unable to keep himself collected and joins in. He straightens his posture, “what of you?”

You take a deep breath, fanning yourself. "What of me, for what?”

“What do you think lies in your heart?”

“The same as you, I suppose. Love and compassion for my family and the few friends I have.”

“What about me?” He asks before he can stop himself.

“What?” You don’t know what to think.

“I-” He walks past you, placing his mallet back into place before exiting, wandering to the garden. He needs to get as far away from you as he can in order to clear his mind.

You don’t understand what’s happened and place your mallet beside his before chasing after him.

He stares at you, half listening to you and his attention moves elsewhere.

“Are you even listening to me?” You stare at him, wanting to understand him. You’re too into your thoughts to hear the faint buzz.

The noise sends a shiver down his spine, he knows the noise too well; his nightmares (if he can remember any) always start with the faint buzz.

He doesn’t move as he searches for it. Sadly, for the eldest child, he doesn’t have to search for long as the small, striped animal floats around you. He prays to whoever is listening to hear his silent prayers for it doesn’t sting you; he can’t lose someone else to the blasted creature.

“Anthony?” You ask, glancing down when you feel something land on you. You realize why he can’t look away. “Hey, it’s alright.”

He can’t focus on your words, his mind rattled with the memory of his late father. “Don’t move,” his voice is low and shaky.

“I know, it’s a bee but, it won’t hurt me as long as I-” you close your eyes due to the discomfort you get from the sting, and it sends him into a whirlwind. “I’ll be alright,” you say, still trying to reassure him. You open your eyes to see how pale he’s gotten.

He invades your personal space, grasping onto your arms. “Are- are you-” He glances back and forth between your face and your wound. His voice is low, far too low for you to understand what it is he is trying to say but you swear you hear him mutter something along the lines of, “don’t move'' repeatedly.

You know you must calm him down before he can do anything. You reach for him, placing a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you. “Breathe, Anthony. I need you to breathe.”

He can’t say anything, almost as if he’s choking on air. Images of his father invade his mind, filling him with worry and dread.

You can see he is close to tears. Your voice draws him out of his thoughts. “I promise you. I hope you know I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m fine but I will still have a doctor come and look at it so that it may heal properly. I’m right here. I’m here with you.”

Anthony’s hands grip your biceps, he notices how swollen the sting site has become.

“It stung me, but I am not hurting. This has happened before. I will be fine.”

None of your reassurances are having any effect on him.

The image of his father taking his last breath in his mother’s arm is enough to make lean in to suck the venom out.

“Anthony?! What are you-” You cut yourself off at the feeling of his shaky hands trying to remove the stinger. “Anthony, you must stop.”

“Shut up,” he hisses, trying to stay focused on keeping you healthy (and alive) while fighting to keep his father’s death out of his mind.

You take deep breaths, you try to push him away, but he is insistent and stronger than you. “I am fine, I just need to see a doctor and I-”

“Would you be quiet,” he finally lifts his head to look up at you.

You gulp, “I know- I know what tragedy has happened in your family but, today will not be the same for me.”

He doesn’t listen and continues to squeeze the area.

You gasp, eyes widening at the feeling of his hands being so close to your breast. This has gone too far; you must stop this before someone sees. “Anthony,” you place your hands on his chest to push him away once more.

“Stop it,” he shoves your arms off him. “Let me get rid of the venom.”

“There is a doctor who can do this and-”

“The doctor is not here. I am.” He stops squeezing when some liquid begins to spill out of the wound.

You look down, finding the trail of liquid, “see, you did it. Now, I am going inside to-”

Anthony pulls out a handkerchief, wiping away the trail. “It’s not all of it.”

You wrap your hand around his wrist, stopping him from patting you dry. “You must stop this, Anthony. If anything were to have happened, it would have happened already.”

“There is still more,” he mutters, staring at the irritated area.

“You need to stop.”

“I haven’t gotten all of it,” he turns, staring at you.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing. Don’t.”

“I have to get the venom out before it kills you.”

“It won’t kill me-” you gasp, seeing the determination in him as he leans forward. You place your hand on his shoulder, keeping his head away but fail to remove his hand.

The click clack of women’s shoes against the rock pathway alerts you, but you feel as though you can’t move.

A gasp makes you turn to find his mother alongside your cousin, Mildred (Millie for short), staring at the two of you with shocked expressions.

Your heart rate increases and gain enough strength to fully shove him away from you, knowing how this looks.

He glances up at you with a confused expression.

“Anthony?” Violet calls out.

His brows furrow further, he looks over your shoulder, “mother?”

“What is going here?”

“She was stung by a- a bee.”

“A bee?”

“Yes, a bee. I’d told him repeatedly I was fine. I’ve dealt with being stung before,” you say, struggling to keep yourself together.

“You were stung by a bee and the boy found himself attached to you?” Mildred raises a brow.

“Don’t look at me like that, Millie.”

“I’m not, I’m wondering how you think this can be kept quiet.”

“Kept quiet?” You repeat quietly to yourself.

“Neither of us would repeat a word of what occurred today,” he argues.

“That doesn’t mean anything for a woman’s reputation,” Mildred says with an attitude.

“You do realize anyone could walk out here and spot the two of you, don’t you?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Don’t you?”

He grits his teeth, “I do.”

“You should consider yourself lucky that it was us who found you and no one else, rake.”

“That’s enough now, Mildred,” Violet intervenes. “Let’s,” she takes a deep breath, “let’s go inside and talk about this further. Lady Starlington needs to be seen by a doctor.”

You can’t stand to be there any longer and turn away from him, walking past the two ladies and Anthony; your pace speeds up before you know it, you’re sprinting back to Audrey Hall.

Mildred sighs, “now what are we to do?”

“We will all walk back and discuss this,” Violet says.

“Of course, we are but, what am I to tell my parents? They’ll be curious to know why their niece’s name is in a Lady Whistledown column.”

Anthony grunts, taking a step towards the two. He passes by them and quickly announces, “we will marry before the end of the season.”

“Did he say what I think he did?” asks Mildred, watching his figure walk away with wide eyes.

Violet sighs, shaking her head, “I believe he did.”

“Did I do the right thing?”

The mother of the family stops, turning to face your cousin, “what do you mean?”

“I- I basically pushed themselves together into this potentially unhappy marriage. I know I sometimes I can’t keep my comments to myself but, I swear I had good intentions. It's just- when we came around the corner to see that I- I worry about her. I fear I may have ruined my relationship with the two.”

“I can’t give you an exact answer but, I can say that as long as you have your cousin’s interest and happiness in mind, the most you can do is hope for the best. They are both emotionally driven people, even if neither wishes to admit it. This will be hard for them, and it may be a test.”

“A test?”

“To see if they will make good of their marriage. You and I, as well as my other children, have come to realize how they connect with one another. They can’t see it for themselves but there is something there and now is the time for them to see it.”

“I suppose so. What if they can’t make it work?”

“Then I fear they will be in a miserable marriage.”

No one else disturbed you after the doctor left.

You sit at the edge of the bed, your vision blurs; you cover your mouth with shaky hands. You don’t want others to hear if they happen to be walking by. You cry, struggling to catch your breath.

Everything you’ve been feeling with the last few days is slowly escaping you. Your mother is requesting to visit and marriage situation with Anthony; it’s too much.

You take deep breaths, aiming to calm yourself down.

Maybe it would be better if you left and went home or maybe somewhere far from here.

A knock disturbs you from your thoughts.

You wipe your cheeks, hoping whoever it is will go away but fail as another knock comes through. You take a deep breath and open the door, “Viscount Bridgerton?”

He lifts his gaze off the floor, “what happened to Anthony?”

Any curiosity falls from your expression, “your making light of the situation?”

He shakes his head, “I would never.”

“I think you’ve done enough today. It’s almost time for bed.”

He takes a step closer to the door, his hand inches away from being crushed, “I,” he sighs, taking a step back, removing his hand from the door. “I have come to ask if you would have dinner with me.”

“With you?”

“I think it would be wise if we talked before anything becomes… official.”

“Now?”

“Are you going to use full sentences any time soon?”

“Why should I? Is it bothering you?”

“Nevermind that. Are you going to join me or not?”

“Will there be someone else there?”

He gives you a reluctant nod, “yes, your dearest cousin, Mildred.”

“I’ll be down in a moment. I will meet you there.”

“I’ll wait here.”

“Do you have to?”

“No but, I think it might be good practice for us.”

“Practice,” you mumble and shut the door. You walk over to the vanity, staring at yourself, wondering how you got into this situation. You snatch the extra handkerchief and pat your face, removing any evidence of your despair.

You take careful steps toward the door and exit, Anthony leaning against the wall across from your room. He holds his arm out for you to hold.

You shake your head.

“Don’t you think you’ve touched her enough today?”

He sighs, “Mildred.”

“Who else would it be?” She interlocks your arms together, pulling you ahead of the eldest Bridgerton. “Come on.”

“Do either of you know how to use it?” Anthony asks, staring at the stove.

Mildred shakes her head, “the maids are always around to do it.”

“Both of you sit down,” you say.

“Do you know how to work this?” he asks, sounding surprised.

“I do. It’s too late for us to have a full meal, instead we can have a glass of warm milk.”

They sit at the table in the corner of the room.

Anthony watches as you move gracefully around the kitchen.

“If you keep staring, she’ll catch you.”

He turns to her, “what?”

“You’re staring.”

“No, I wasn’t,” he denies.

“You can lie all you want but I know you care for her. Perhaps, you always have and never wanted to admit it before and the whole bee situation was a ruse so that you could stop being a ninny and marry her instead.”

His jaw drops, he doesn’t know how to respond. “I did not-”

She waves him off, “do not lie Anthony, I know you love her and have for some time now, only you must realize it now than later in your marriage. I do not want her… or you to be unhappy. Oddly enough, I seem to care for you but, obviously not the same way she does you.”

He scoffs through his nose, muttering to himself, “obviously.”

You place the glass of milk in front of the two, interrupting their conversation. “Don’t tell me you’ve decided to marry my cousin instead.”

Anthony nearly chokes on the liquid, setting the glass down and snatches the handkerchief you hold out for him.

He wipes his chin, “what makes you think I would want to marry, Mildred.”

She scoffs, “you’d be lucky to have me, Bridgerton.”

He narrows his eyes to her.

“I’ll be just outside this door, leaving the two of you talk and nothing else.”

You furrow your brows, “wait. Mil-”

She waves to you.

You take a deep breath, not wanting to face him.

It was different when he wasn't paying attention to you and rather his own life, but now... you hope he doesn't want to talk.

"We should- we should talk."

Everything in your screams to not run away and hide, even though it sounds like it would be the better option right now.

"How are you?"

"I would be happier if I was marrying for love and not because of your concern over my virtue," you mumble.

He overhears and sighs. “Don’t-”

“No, I understand. Truly I do, just- I need- it’s late. Apologies for keeping you up.” You grab the skirts of your dress and walk out.

Mildred watches as you run away. She spins around and stands in the doorway. “What did you do?”

“Me- I-”

She sighs. “Just shut up.”

He sighs and slumps in the chair. Mildred storms into the room after you.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” You take a deep breath, hunched over your vanity.

“You know, you two act as a married couple who have known each other for too long and no longer know how to act lovingly around one another.”

“You are wrong, cousin. He is- he is the scum- the scum that rests at the bottom of my shoe. Why would I ever marry someone like that? Much less that Bridgerton, I mean, Colin would be a better option and I don’t like him as much as I do Benedict.” You keep your head down, “people marry for less.”

“I wish to marry for love, if it ever decides to come my way but until then I will deal with him marrying the only person, I care about that is close to my age.”

“So, you care enough about me to marry me off?”

“Don’t phrase it in such a way that makes me the bad guy,” she throws herself onto your bed.

“Go to bed. I will be fine, Millie.”

She props herself up on her elbows. “Are you sure?”

“I am. Please,” you look up and turn around, putting on a brave face. “I promise you. I will be fine.”

“If you’re sure-”

“Which I am. Goodnight, Millie.”

She sighs and steps outside of the room, “night.”

“Good morning.”

You don’t respond to Mildred.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“I am simply showing you the way my soon-to-be husband will treat me.”

“What do you mean?”

“It has already begun. I awoke early and decided I wanted to speak to him after thinking about it all. I say hi but he does not.” You shrug, "it doesn't matter now."

"It does though. Let me," she sighs. "Let me speak with him. I can- I can fix this."

"No," you say. “I don’t want you to be in the middle any more than you have.”

“Alright... now onto more pressing matters.”

“Such as?”

“Your plans for the wedding?”

“Oh, right.” You continue to stare out the window.

“Are you sure you're alright?”

“I just-”

Anthony stops himself from knocking on the door and decides to listen.

“I thought when I was to marry, I would marry for love not because I need my virtue protected or saved."

"If he didn't agree to this-"

"I would be a spinster."

"That is how I will live my life," Mildred grabs your hand and gains your attention.

Anthony takes his leave, unable to stay there any longer.

“That is not how I want you to live your life. I want you to be the one to have another you can call upon if there is something the matter because I won’t always be there and I need to know that you are protected before I leave.”

“You’re leaving?”

She sighs. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out but yes. A week after you’ve been married, I plan on traveling the world.”

“Your childhood dream.”

“Precisely.”

"I- what if I'm not good enough to," you wave your hand around. "This."

"This what? I'm not sure I understand."

"What if- what if I am not fit to be a wife. I mean," you push yourself out of the chair and pace around the room. "I don't want him to be disappointed in the person he is to call wife. I don't want to be in a marriage of..."

"Regret?"

"Precisely."

She stops you by placing a hand on your wrists, “now is the time for us to plan your wedding. Violet and Anthony have been sitting in the tearoom since I came in here.”

“She’s- they’re- why didn’t you tell me?” You rush out the door.

You clean yourself up outside the door and nod to your servant, Bernard, to open the doors. You nervously smile at both.

Violet pops up from the chair closest to the window. “How are you?”

“Oh- uh- I’m,” you glance to the side and stare at her eldest, who locks eyes with you.

“I mean from the- well, you know,” she struggles to say.

You let out a breath of relief, “ah, yes. I do. I am- I am fine. I’m just happy that everyone else is fine.”

She smiles, “that is kind of you to say, but unnecessary.”

“I hear you came to talk about our upcoming… event.”

“Is that what Mildred told you?”

You furrow your brows, “is that not what you’re here to discuss?”

Anthony pushes himself off the couch. “Not yet. Mother, if you’d excuse us.”

“Anthony, I don’t-”

He gives her a look.

"We will be right outside this door."

"What did you want to discuss?"

"If we are to marry, we should have stipulations."

"You think I'll be so horrible that we need rules?"

"Not you. I believe if we have these, we'll have a better understanding of what should come from this marriage."

"Why don't I just stay by your side and show my face when you need me to so you can look like the perfect husband? Would that make things easier?"

He sighs. "That is one of the things we need to discuss, which events you'd prefer to come to."

"Oh, I get to choose those?"

"Please stop. I am trying to make this as easy as I can."

You clench your fists. "How am I supposed to be okay with this?"

“It’s my fault and I am trying to make up for that.”

You pause, “your fault?”

He nods, “yes, it was- it was me who... couldn’t.”

You step forward and place your hand on his, drawing his attention onto you. “It is not your fault when something so devastating comes to mind and you do all you can to prevent another. I do not blame you, but you must understand that I do not want to be one of those ladies.”

“Who?” The only word he can get out as he studies you.

Your compassion shifts into something of annoyance, one he knows too well. “You know who, someone who wants to be like Penelope’s mother or maybe even... all of the other ladies,” you chuckle, proud of the joke you made.

"I'm glad you can make jokes at a time like this."

You roll your eyes, "oh hush, I am still upset about pretending to be a perfect housewife for the one man every woman dreams of being with."

"Are you included?"

Your mouth agape as you stare at him.

"You two haven't maimed each other, perfect."

"Millie," you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"Oh, don't act so coy now."

You roll your eyes and sit down, waiting to hear what Anthony and his mother have to say. You pace along the floor, finding it to be quieter here than in the tearoom with the others, even if they weren’t talking it was still too loud. You know there’s no alternative for what’s transpired between you and your soon to be husband, but it still hurts knowing he will never love you the way-

“Are you alright?” Daphne’s voice draws you out of your thoughts.

You give her a small smile and hope she doesn’t poke further.

“I know this isn’t how it was supposed to happen but there is one good thing about your marriage.”

You scoff, “and what, pray tell, is that?”

“I finally can call you sister.”

You try not to show how happy that makes you, not wanting her to know she was right. “Thank you.”

She drags you over to the piano.

“I still don’t understand why you have many so pianos.”

She shrugs, “for moments like this, maybe?”

“Are you waiting for me to play?”

She nods, “of course, I am. You were always much better than I was.”

“I was not.”

“Show me then. Show me how awful you play, and I will not ask you again.”

You don’t know how long you had been playing for, but it was something you missed- not having a piano in your own home, you didn’t realize how long it had been.

You usually prefer to play when no one is watching but having Daphne by your side was nice, she always knew how to help calm you before things could get worse; everyone knew of your father’s temper, and no one wants to face that through his only daughter.

Anthony raises his hand to knock on the door but pauses as he listens, he doesn’t realize Daphne had learned a new piece. He slowly opens the door and finds you playing instead.

‘When did you learn how to play?’ He wonders.

Or maybe it was, you had always known, and he was too into his fantasies that he forgot to pay attention to the true version of you.

Just when he was hoping to learn something horrible about you; you’re becoming more and more like his...

“I didn’t know you played.”

You open your eyes and glance up at him, standing up as quickly as you can. “I don’t.”

He furrows his brows, “that’s not what I heard.”

“That- that was nothing.”

“Why are you lying?”

“I prefer to keep this information to myself so if you could kindly pretend you didn’t hear anything, that’d be best.” You exit the room, knowing you’ve left

Anthony in a wave of confusion. “What was that about?”

“She doesn’t like others to know of her talents because she knows they’ll ask her to perform one of them.”

“Her mother.” He finally understands.

“And her aunt.”

Now he truly gets it. "Is this what you two would do while I was out with mother?"

She shrugs and pushes the seat back. "Perhaps, or maybe you were never around long enough to learn about her even though you're entranced by her."

He stutters, unsure of where she could have gotten that idea. "What?"

She quickly hides her amusement before he can see. "Nothing. Goodnight Anthony."

He tries to stop her, but she ignores him, offering an excuse for needing to put Augie to bed. He wonders what else he doesn’t know.

You pace back and forth in front of his office door; this isn’t something you can do in person, is it? You sigh and wonder if it’s a wise choice to be doing this at all.

You slip the letter under his door and take a step back. “That wasn’t so hard.” You turn around and briskly walk down the hallway, hoping he doesn’t see that it was you who was there.

Something moving in the corner of his eye piqued his interest and moved closer to figure out what it was. He picks up the letter and opens the door, seeing someone’s figure turning the corner before losing sight of them.

He closes the door and opens the letter, wondering what you could have said when you’ve already said plenty.

Dear Bridgerton,

I I want to start off by apologizing for my outbursts, you don’t deserve them, and they are not aimed at you, but you happen to be the person I am talking to and... This is not how I expected the season to begin or end and I’m sure you didn’t either but if there is someone I were to marry, I’m happy it’d be you... because I trust you. I will do all that I can to be the perfect wife for you and if not, I apologize in advance.

Sincerely, Your annoying soon to be wife

The next day came, and you didn't know how to act.

You sit between Daphne and Mildred when he enters.

He sits in front of you and nods, acknowledging you, which you return.

The girls beside you don't know how to react, each staring at the other with a raised brow.

You two talked with his mother about the decisions for your wedding.

"Have you two discussed what you want?"

Anthony opens his mouth to answer but finds himself without an answer.

"Everyone will talk, and it will no doubt be in Lady Whistledown's column, but it would be preferred if we had a small ceremony, family only."

You don’t look up from your plate. Violet nods, listening intently. "I will use the dress my mother made when I was born, it'll save us time on getting a dress. The flowers can be your choice."

"And after?"

You turn to her, "it'd be smart to hold a small reception after all though it will increase because everyone will want to see who married the handsome and fortunate viscount."

You push yourself out of the chair. "I apologize but I realized I promised to spend time with the girls before we go out for our shopping trip."

"What just happened?"

"Have you two talked about anything regarding your wedding?" Violet asks her son.

"Every time we discuss something-"

"No, have you sat down and discussed what you two are to do? Who will be there? Anything that a soon to be husband and wife should discuss?"

His shoulders sag. "No."

"I want you to go in my place."

"What? Why?"

"It will give you two a moment to talk and prepare for the future hardships you two will face as a couple. Raise her spirits. She got a letter from her mother, saying she will not be able to attend. Perhaps that is why she is so uninterested today."

"She- how do you know?"

"I'm your mother, I know more than you would think."

Anthony waiting by the door frightened you. “Are you joining us?”

“I’m here in place of my mother.”

It takes you a few seconds to process what he said. “You are?”

He nods. “Shall we?”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

The failed whispering voices of the women around you, annoys you to the point where Anthony feels that he needs to do something. “Is there anything that has caught your interest?”

You shake your head.

“Let’s go. I know somewhere we can have a better time, away from the whispers of these women.” He leans in, whispering into your ear, “they’re jealous of you.”

You cover your mouth to hide your amusement, not wanting him to know he’s helping lift your spirits. You two exit the shop and return to the Bridgerton home. “Why are we back here?”

“We are going to have a drink.”

“With your family? Couldn’t we do that any day we wanted to?”

He holds his hand out for you to take, which you do. “Although that may be true, that’s not what I had in mind.” He places his arms behind his back, clenching his fist not wanting you to see the control you have over him. “We’re going to spend time in my office.”

“Oh? I’m invited in, I feel so special.”

“You should, very few are allowed in here, especially when I’m working.”

“Of course. The head of the house needs quiet or else.”

“I see going out has helped you.”

You watch as he fills the glass for you before grabbing it and swallowing it in one gulp. “You could say that.” You scrunch your nose at the sensation, maybe doing that was a bad idea.

He takes a seat in his chair.

“Could I ask you something?”

He nods, staring at you over the glass as he takes a sip.

“Did your mother inform of the one guest we won’t be seeing at our wedding?”

He slowly sets the glass down before returning his gaze to you. “She may have mentioned it.”

“Is that why you came with me today because she told you to and not because you wanted to?”

“She may have said she thought it was best if I take her place, but it was initially my choice to go.”

“You’re not lying?”

“What would I gain from lying to you?”

You sit up and reach for the bottle, filling your glass. “A relationship built on a lie.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are you trying to make this harder than it needs to be?”

“I can’t just- you can’t honestly expect me to ignore that we are marrying one another when you never wanted to marry and I hoped that when it happened, it’d be with someone who loved me.”

He’s out of his chair before you realize he’s now sitting in the chair beside you. “What will it take for you to stop saying that?”

“What?”

He leans in closer. “Why do you think I could never love you?”

“I-” You gulp. “You have spoken before that you never want to marry, what else am I to think?”

“How do you know I couldn’t change? What if something comes of this relationship?”

Your breath hitches and you continue staring him in his eyes. “I suppose we’ll have to cross that bridge if we get to it.” You set the glass down and rush for the door, “I’ll take my leave now. I’m feeling quite tired after our outing.”

He grabs your wrist, pulling you back in before you could open the door. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you into answering my questions.”

“What if I enjoyed them?”

You turn to face him with a small smile. “Then I am concerned for your being.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Be honest, did you mother tell you about my mother is not coming?”

“No,” he shakes his head, but you know the truth.

“You don’t need to lie on order to preserve myself, it’s okay.” You sigh, “is it sad that a small part of me wishes for her to be there?”

“Not in the least. It’s natural for you to want your mother there-”

“It’s not because she’s my family, I just- I need her to stop pushing marriage onto me.” You pace back and forth, “this is my way to prove her wrong but that makes me feel worse because it makes me seem as though I’m being a bad daughter.”

“You’re not,” he disagrees with you. “That is anything but you being a bad daughter. If anything, she’s- she’s scared to lose her daughter to a new family because they know you will be starting a new life, away from her and that’s why she doesn’t want you to help.”

“But what if-”

His hand slides down your arm as if his hand lingering wasn’t enough to drive you mad, he tightens his grip on your hand.

You force yourself to focus on his words and not the warmth emanating from him.

“Stop. All the negative thoughts you have are not going to help you. But listen to this, you are a good daughter, and she should be happy to know her daughter will be taken care of. As long as you are a part of this family you will be taken care of and not have to worry about expectations.”

“I won’t,” you whisper, not meaning to. He shakes his head and gives a small smile. “I promise.”

He realizes he’s been holding onto you this whole time and his arm falls. “Can I walk you back to your room?”

You nod, ignoring the warmth flooding your cheeks. “I would like that.”

“Will I see you at breakfast tomorrow?”

“You will, and if I ask you the same question?”

He smiles, “I will be there.”

“Good, I think this is a good start to our future marriage.” You step inside the room.

“I am sorry.”

“What?”

“The marriage… and the reason we are to wed.”

“What do you mean?”

“I lost myself and-”

You shake your head, placing a hand on his chest over his heart. “I do not blame you for something as traumatizing as your father’s death. Please know that.”

“But-”

“Anthony Bridgerton,” you tell him using a stern tone. “Stop it. It may not have happened under the best of circumstances, but I am happy that I will be wed to you than some other man. I can at least trust you.” You step back into the doorway, slowly closing the door as you bid him goodnight.

He stands there, touching the spot where your hand was until he drops it, straining his hand as he fights to clench it.

Benedict and Colin happen to be there when he turns the corner.

“Quite a show you put on there,” the second eldest says.

“Yes, you’re whole “I’ll be the perfect husband” speech was wonderful,” the third eldest chimes in.

Anthony scoffs, “would you two quiet down?” He grabs them by their collars, dragging them into one of their miscellaneous rooms. “Why aren’t you two out?”

“How could we be out when you’re here?” Colin asks.

“Trying to woo the love of your life,” Benedict adds on.

“I’m not- you two are acting like children.”

“Us? Acting like children?” Colin starts, glancing at his brother.

“No,” the artist shakes his head, “I don’t think so.”

The soon to be married man glares at his brothers, unsure if he wants to listen further or not but if he doesn’t let them continue it’ll be worse in the morning. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “If I let you two continue, will you keep quiet in the morning?”

“Morning?” Colin turns to partner in crime. “What’s happening in the morning?”

The artist glances over his older brother and grins, “is the soon to be wed joining his family and future wife for breakfast?”

“With him being silent, I’m going to say yes.”

“Finally, you agree with me.”

“I agree with you,” the third eldest argues.

“I don’t recall.”

“Okay, now that you two are done, I’m going to bed.”

“To dream of your wife.”

“She looked quite nice today, wouldn’t you say brother?” Benedict asks.

“I dare say, she looks even more radiant since her recent engagement.”

“You two are done,” Anthony shoves them out of the room. “You two will not speak of her like that again. She is your friend,” he jabs Benedict’s chest. “And your future sister-in-law,” and does the same to Colin. “You will respect her and not talk like this again, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

The next morning as soon as you step out of the door, your future husband paces. “You’re awake.”

“I am, it’s time for breakfast.” You close the door behind you. “Shall we go downstairs and join the others?”

“We’ll be the first ones down there.”

“Either way, I’m going down.”

He holds his arm out for you to take. “Shall we?”

You give him a small smile and nod. “After breakfast, what are your plans?”

“I have a few things I need to look over but after that I’m free. What did you have in mind?”

“I planned on going for a walk along the back of your family’s estate and perhaps we could talk about things.”

“Just the two of us.”

“Mildred could join us?”

“I’d rather she not.”

“I don’t blame you; she’s been on a rampage since earlier this week.”

The doors open and his brothers, Daphne and Mildred, are already sitting at the table.

“Of course,” he mumbles.

“Did you say something?” You ask him.

He turns his head towards you, offering a small smile. “No, it’s nothing.”

The glances between him and his brothers were interesting, intriguing to you and the girls, who also had no clue what was going on.

He stands behind your chair, hand resting on your shoulder. “I shall find you after I am done.”

You nod and watch him go.

“Well, that was interesting.”

Daphne shushes your cousin.

You lay across the couch, reading another book and were so into it, not even realizing that he had entered the room.

He smiles as he steps closer, wondering what’s going on inside your head, finding you to be more interesting as he observes you reading, compared to his sister. He leans against the back of the couch, bending down to catch your attention.

A shadow moving catches your eye and you turn, screaming soon after.

You place your hand over your heart, taking deep breaths. “For heaven’s sake! What was that for?”

“What do you mean?” He smirks, arms on around the sides of your body as he stays behind the couch. “What are you reading?”

You turn around and cross your arms, “why does that concern you?”

“Can’t a future husband be curious as to what his future wife is into?”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye. “Is that all?”

“It is. But that’s not why I’m here.” He doesn’t say anything else.

You get impatient and wave your arms around. “Spit it out. Come on.”

“We are to marry by the end of the week.”

Your brows raise is surprise, “oh.”

“Is that alright?”

You take a deep breath, “I just- I wasn’t expecting it to be so soon but that’s- okay.” You place the book beside you and stand up, brushing the wrinkles out of the skirts of your dress. “I need to go over some things with your mother.”

The humor falls from his face. “Wait- where are you going?”

"I just told you."

He follows after you, "I heard you but-" He reaches for you, pulling you back. "Can we talk?"

You take a deep breath to calm your beating heart. Why is this happening now? You thought you were over this. Your lips part as you stare at his hand. You shake your head, staring up at him. "I- what do we need to talk about?"

"Lady... things." He’s quiet for a moment. "I won't push you but know I'm here to talk if you need someone."

"Thank you." You take off, not noticing the way his hand slowly falls or the way he clenches his hand.

It's been a long time since he's felt the skin of a woman he was enchanted by, especially one he's to call wife.

"Did we catch a moment between you and your beloved?"

Anthony sighs, "don't you have charcoal to break for your fruit drawings?"

His younger brother puts a hand to his chest, offended by his brother's comment. "I'm hurt, Anthony. Truly, I am but it's not why I'm here."

He turns to face the artistic Bridgerton, taking notice of the serious look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Sister."

"Which one?"

"Not one of ours."

He furrows his brows, mouth agape to ask why but realizes who his brother is referring to. "I thought we had taken care of this situation?"

"We did but then she decided to cut their trip short and has been calling on you since she arrived today."

"I need you to take care of her. I cannot allow her to ruin my marriage."

Benedict nods, "you finally figured out you truly care for her, didn't you?"

Anthony chuckles, "I'm not discussing this with you. Call Colin if you need help."

"We got it. Go take care of my future sister."

He nods for the doors to be opened. "Good morning, ladies."

Your cousin shakes her head, your mother fawns over him while Violet takes a sip of her tea.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him.

He places a hand on the back of your chair. "I expect you all enjoyed your breakfast before discussing more of the wedding."

"Oh, certainly. Your family has been nothing but kind to us, Viscount."

You adjust the napkin on your lap to keep you from rolling your eyes at your mother's fake enthusiast tone.

Mildred pats your arm, knowing the strained relationship between you and your mother.

He notices the tension in your shoulders and wishes he could pull you away from all this madness. "Anything I can help with?"

"Oh, heavens no. You have other more important things to take care of. Leave this to us ladies, isn't that, right?"

You purse your lips and let out a quiet, "mmhmm."

Maybe it was better when she said she couldn’t come to the wedding. Yes, you were sad, but it was better than the real thing.

Violet glances between you and your mother. "Why don't we let the girls go on a walk with Anthony watching over them?"

"But-"

"I think this will be good for them. It will give them more time to talk."

The woman hesitates to say yes, debating if this is truly a wise decision before making a decision.

You didn't realize how tight you were squeezing Mildred's arm until she let out a whine.

Your eyes widen, "oh, Millie. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. I should have known better. I know how crazy she makes you." "This always happens?" You don't look in his direction. Your cousin nods her head, "unfortunately."

"Why has she made this unexpected visit?"

"She," Mildred pauses, giving herself time to think of a better answer than truth.

"She wants to know if I am with child and if the reason, you're marrying me is to save my family's name."

Anthony nods, he understands why you preferred planning this with his mother and your cousin. "Should we?"

You two glance over in his direction. "What are you implying?"

He shrugs, "I merely suggest we pretend as if there is something going on, give your mother something to worry about."

"You want her to pretend as if she is with child?"

He nods, confirming Mildred's nightmare.

"Please tell me you're not thinking of going through with this. It’s absurd and- oh, no. Now I like it."

You glance between the two. "Is this something you two finally agree on?"

They stumble for a minute, waiting for the other to argue and tell you no but come to realize you are, in fact, correct.

Daphne stumbles upon the three of you and smiles, neither Mildred nor her brother are arguing, and you don't look uncomfortable.

"Daphne!" Your cousin waves. "Come, come. We need your knowledge on a subject."

She nods, smiling. "May I ask what you need my help with exactly?"

"How does one pretend to be with child?"

She owlishly blinks, tilting her head staring at the woman as if she's lost her mind. "I'm sorry?"

"We are feeding into my aunt's absurd idea of her precious daughter being with child."

Anthony purses his lips, finding himself to be offended more than he had been by Mildred's comments. "I'm not the worst option for a father."

"Moving on," she waves him off before returning her attention to his sister. "We need information."

"And you want to do this?" She turns to face you.

Your eyes widen slightly, not realizing she was going to ask. "I think it would be... nice to show mother how well her child is without her watchful eye."

"And you're sure this is the way to do it?"

You shrug, "it's not so much if I think this is okay, it's more like she needs to realize I am my own person and can live a life without her dictating everything for me."

Daphen nods, "okay. I will help."

Mildred smiles and interlocks her arm with the Bridgerton girl's. "Come, we have much to discuss."

You turn to your future husband and raise a brow.

He stares at the two, wondering what advice his sister could have to offer before holding his arm out for you to hold onto as you all return to the hall for dinner.

"Are you sure about this?"

You hum, not having listened to a word he said.

"I asked if you're sure about this. Mildred and I were joking, we don't expect you to play along with this idea."

"Your kind, but this is something I need to do. She won't listen to reason if I tell her I don't need her help, she'll involve herself, no matter what."

"And this is how you'll get her to stop?"

You sigh, "we'll see."

The dinner was entertaining for most, you felt bad for embarrassing Violet and the Bridgerton name all to get your mother off your back, but you felt there was no other way to stop her from inserting her wants and needs before yours.

That was the first night you had a stern talking to from your future mother-in-law and- even though you could have thought of a better way to handle the situation, it felt nice to be taken care of the way a child should, compared to the way your mother raised you.

You didn’t talk to your cousin or future husband after and went to bed with too much on your mind.

Then came the wedding, it was as lovely as could be even if it was short notice and only family was invited.

It came as a surprise to everyone, mainly yourself, when your mother decided it was time to stop and act like a caring parent.

She smiled and fixed a piece of hair that was out of place. “I know this isn’t the wedding you dreamed about-”

“I didn’t dream of a wedding often.”

She sighs, realizing she’s been putting words in your mouth rather than stopping to listen to you. “I never dreamed of marrying someone I didn’t love. If I were to ever get married, I’d rather it be with someone I could have a future with than someone who would rather be with another.”

"I know."

"And you know what else- you know?"

She nods, "I've been trying to relive my life through you, and it isn't fair. I'm here to watch you marry the man who will provide, take care of you," she cups your cheeks. "And love you the way you deserve."

You shake your head, fighting to keep your composure, not wanting anyone to know of your breakdown. "He doesn't love me."

She nods, "he does, you just can't see it."

"How-"

Your mother shushes you, "it's time."

The reality of the situation didn't hit you until it was time to walk down the aisle but with the help of Mildred and Daphne, you were able to overcome it.

That was also the only time you've felt the lips of your husband.

Since the wedding it feels as though all the progress you two made was wasted, even Mildred was tired of your constant complaints before and after she left.

You sit in the library, biting your nail until it hurts and turn the page; a new habit of yours, one Eloise would be proud of.

You started hiding away to read when everyone went off to live their lives now that the beginning of yours has ended started. You’ve been reading more since your cousins’ departure; it was a tearful morning but you're happy to know she’s out living her life the way she wants.

Then Daphne and Simon left the hall so they could return to their lives in their own home with little Augie.

You've tried to go out with Violet and Lady Danbury, but they preferred to ask when you two would expand your family; safe to say you also hide in here for another reason.

The youngest Bridgerton’s are swept away for their studies as they continue to grow. Francesca and Eloise are nowhere to be found half the time (hence where you got the idea).

You don't know if you'd be able to handle talking to the other two brothers since marrying the eldest. The comments they make at breakfast are enough, going on a walk with them would be too much.

Not that you mind the quiet even if it does get lonely at times.

You push yourself off the ground, placing the book back in its place only now realizing how dark it had gotten and your candle has died, providing little light to guide you; its barely the size of your thumb and the wick is dying the longer you stay here.

You open the door, carefully closing it and wince as the hinges creaking echoes down the hallway. You pause at the sound of footsteps only to hear a familiar girls whisper. "Hyacinth?"

She smiles, "what are you doing here?"

"I was reading."

"In the dark?"

You two glance down at your source of light that died as soon as she mentioned it. "The candles died."

“Can you take me back to my room?”

You smile and nod, “of course I can.” You grab her hand and try to find your way back to the hallway where her room is.

“Finally, we found it.” You glance down at her, “I told you, we would.”

She smiles up at you with a sleepy expression. “I knew you would.”

You open the door and get her settled into bed before exiting.

You wonder what it would be like to have your own child and stop. Are you really thinking about what it would be like to have a child when you haven’t seen your husband since your wedding day?

You shake your head and continue down the hallway before turning around, realizing you made a wrong turn; you sigh, leaning against the railing, staring at the ballroom floor.

You remember the first time you arrived at the hall and saw him. You didn’t know why your heartbeat was so fast until your cousin explained it to you.

You wonder if he knows how you feel and if that’s the reason, he’s been avoiding you.

“What are you doing awake at this hour?”

You spin around and find- “Ben!” You cross your arms to cover you.

He smiles, “what are you doing out of bed and away from your husband?”

You take the jacket he offers you, “I’d rather be reading but my candle died- oh no.”

“What?”

“I left it in your sister’s room.”

“Ah, so you’ve seen the whole family other than the one man you should be seeing.”

“Quiet now, Benedict. Unless you want others to know you’ve seen your brother’s wife in her night dress.”

“It wouldn’t be the biggest scandal our family has dealt with.”

You lower your head, rubbing your forehead at his words. “You’re an idiot. I’m going to bed.”

Anthony had a rough night and going to bed was something he desperately needed, maybe seeing your figure laying in our shared bed would make him feel better; he always seems to calm down when his eyes land on you.

That was something he always enjoyed about you whenever you were around.

He stops removing his coat when the door opens, and his brother is behind you while you stay in the doorway with his coat around your shoulders.

His brother takes the item from you and takes his leave before Anthony starts asking questions (not before Benedict gives him a suggestive look).

He doesn’t want to ask- he shouldn’t ask, it’s not his place. “Something I should know about?” He hopes this doesn’t lead to a fight.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re going to pretend as if my brother walking you, my wife, wouldn’t be a scandal if we were elsewhere.”

“Why? Don’t you trust me?” You ask, tired of all the games; him avoiding you and now having an interest in you.

“Do you know how much it affects me?”

An annoyed sigh escapes him, revealing to you how he feels (about the situation and not yourself). “What affects you, sweetheart?”

You ball your fists, “stop calling me that.”

He can’t call you such an endearing name when he hasn’t been acting like your husband. “That is what a husband is supposed to call his wife, is it not? A charming word of endearment for a handsome lady, such as yourself.”

“Stop talking…”

“What else am I to call you? I cannot call you by your name, it would prove-”

“How little we care for each other.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You. I’m talking about you.”

“Me?”

“You are a pest.”

“A pest,” he whispers, finding himself offended.

“You have never once thought of myself in the manner of being one’s wife but yet you act like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re my husband.”

“Am I not?”

You study him. “You want to make a big deal out of this when you’ve been avoiding me since the wedding? Therefore, you are a pest.”

“I- I haven’t- when was I avoiding you?”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

He struggles to remove his coat and you make your way towards him, helping him.

“Your brother found after I helped Hyacinth get back to bed after she found me exiting the library. He didn’t want anyone else to see me in such a… intimidate manner.”

You stare at him through your lashes. “Anything else you want to add? Maybe,” you place his jacket on the back of the chair before taking a seat at the vanity. You start removing the pins and ribbons keeping your hair up, your tiredness hitting you as you prepare for bed.

He sighs, untying his collar. “I wasn’t avoiding, I’ve been… busy.”

“Busy? You’ve been busy?” You undo the sheets, settling onto your side. “I’m going to sleep until you can come up with another excuse on why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I- believe me when I say I wasn’t avoiding you because I- this isn’t easy.”

You spring up, glaring at him. “And you think this is easy for me?”

“I’m not saying anything about our marriage. I have been,” he pauses, thinking of the right word. “Dealing with personal matters, things you shouldn’t have to worry about because of a mistake I made in the past. I am trying to protect this because I care about you.”

You gulp, “I’m sorry.”

“What was that?”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you stare at the ceiling. “I’m sorry for thinking you were avoiding me but to be fair,” you spring forward, pointing to him. “I- I-“ You struggle to speak as you catch the sight of his bare chest.

He knows what he’s doing to you and his chest warms at the thought of only you being the one to see him in such an intimate way.

You turn away, fiddling with the sheets. “Like I said, I’m sorry for assuming the worst but considering-“ You close your eyes, following the way his lips moved against yours. You push him away, the warmth of his chest lighting a fire within you. “Just because we are married, does not mean you can use your body to change the subject or get me to stop talking about something you don’t want to.”

The corner of his smile twitches before he allows himself to smirk.

You’ve only ever seen him use this expression with his family, never once was it directed at you.

You’re happy tonight ended the way it has, you’re feeling closer to him, learning more of what makes Anthony Bridgerton tick.

He closes his eyes, chest heaving with every breath he takes. “I’m here.” He pulls away from you.

Your hand falls at your side.

His figure fades away, leaving you confused.

You burst up, confused as to what your dream means and glance beside you, finding him still asleep. You push yourself out of bed, needing the get away for a moment, sitting in the bench underneath the window.

You stare at the stars, wondering if there was some way, they’d be able to respond to your questions. It’s only been several days since your marriage became official; you still feel as though you’re not and none of is real.

You think back to your first kiss you two shared at the altar and the one you shared before going to bed. Your fingertips brush against your lips, relishing the sensation you felt then as it fills you with something you never thought you’d be able to enjoy.

‘Is this what love is?’ You think, staring at the bright moon, knowing it won’t answer you.

You glance back at him and wonder if he’ll ever love you the way-. You wipe away the stray tear, knowing how much it’d break you if he decided to cheat or leave you entirely.

Your greatest fear was thinking you’d end up alone.

Now you fear he’d be the one to leave you without looking back.

He squints, the moonlight disturbing his slumber. “What are you doing up?”

Your head snaps in his direction. “Hmm?”

He repeats his question, sitting up in bed, his night shirt wrinkled and slipping off his chest.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you tell him, not believing your own words. You crawl back into bed when you notice he won’t fully fall asleep until you’re near.

As soon as you settle onto your side, his breathing evens out.

You lay your head on the pillow, fighting the thoughts you know will keep you awake, feeling you’ll need more sleep than anything.

"We need to try for a child."

He glances up from his work. "I didn't realize your mother was in town."

You narrow your eyes to him, something he is truly fond of even if you are upset with him. "I'm going to pretend as if you didn't say that."

You close the door and pace around the floor in front of his desk.

“If you find yourself calm enough to talk, could you repeat what you said when you busted into my office.”

He knows what you said, there's no denying what he's heard but what's got you riled up to bring up such a topic.

The wedding was only three weeks prior, he knows of the idle gossip some of the other women enjoy talking amongst each and he's curious as to who said something.

He's also been trying to keep himself busier than usual to keep him from staying up too late and thinking of performing such acts upon you. He sets his pen down, giving you his full attention. “Why are you asking now?”

“I’m not asking,” you argue.

Is it such a wise idea to try and push for this? Most likely not but you're too upset over the gossip to think logically.

He studies you for a moment, wanting to understand what happened to make you think such a thing.

“What happened? I mean, you and Daphne went out for a walk, right?”

You pause, trying to understand where he’s getting at before nodding.

“Who said something to you?” He raises his brow.

“No one… exactly,” you huff, crossing your arms.

“I know they’re expecting me to be with child by now or at least, in the works of trying for a baby and I don’t want there to be another Whistledown column with either of our names in it. It’s not just my reputation that could be ruined, it could be yours or your family’s this time.”

He can’t help but smile at your kind thoughts. “I appreciate the concern and I’m sure my family would as well, but everything is going to be fine. We don’t need to worry about this.”

You continue having your pity party. “I’m glad you seem to think so.” You furrow your brows, thinking about how he’s avoiding the topic. “Why are you putting this off?”

“Putting what off?”

“You know what I’m talking about, don’t act as coy as your brothers do when asked about their courtships.”

He doesn’t have a way out, does he? A knock on the door alerts him. “I have other business to attend to, I’ll see you at dinner?”

You scoff, “you pretend as if you want me and need me when we are in our shared room but now that we are out in the open you want nothing to do with me? Tell me, are you just using me for your own gain?”

He sighs, “please, can we,” he glances at the door to find his brother. “Talk about this another time?”

You nod, offering a fake smile, “of course, husband.”

His attention turns to you once more, “I thought we weren’t going to have the normal marriage?”

“It seems we were both wrong.” You shrug. “Goodnight, husband.” You yank the door open, rushing past Benedict and the guest without looking back.

Kate smiles watching as you put yourself further away from the one person she wants. “It seems you and your bride are having minor troubles, may I?”

Anthony grits his teeth. “What’s brought you here, to my family’s hall, today?”

Her mischievous smile turns into an evil smirk, “I’ve come to visit an old friend, after all, didn’t you say I was always welcome?”

“That was before you tried to take my family’s fortune and run off.”

She plays with the cuff of his coat sleeve. “If it makes you feel better, I have a husband.”

“Then you should be with him.” He removes her hand from him.

If this had happened a year ago, he would be crawling back into her embrace but now that he has you, the only person that can keep him sane; he’s not going to make that mistake.

He sits down at his desk, rereading the page he was working on when you came in. He knows he’d be stupid if he fell for her tricks once more and ruined your marriage (and family name).

She pouts, not liking the fact that he doesn’t want her anymore.

“Perhaps you should go back to your home. We must clean up for dinner,” Benedict chimes in.

She spins to face the second eldest, “dinner? I’d love to.”

Anthony pushes himself out of the chair. “That’s not an invitation.”

“Why? Are you scared I’m going to ruin your precious marriage? You truly think I’d be harsh to do such a thing?”

“We don’t need to think it if we know.”

She smirks in trump, feeling as though she’s won.

You glance at the two with a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Is this the way your marriage is going to end? It took a while before you could remember where you knew her from and as soon as it clicked, you were fidgeting in your seat. Why did he allow her to sit so close to him?

She knows he's a married man and doesn't care. Maybe she thinks the marriage is fake and- you aren't worthy enough to be his wife.

You push the food around on your plate, your appetite forgotten. You remember the rumors about their relationship but could never be proven since she went back to India with her mother but now that she's back, you don't know what to think.

He notices and wishes that she didn't invite herself to join his family tonight.

You ask him about expanding the family line and him avoiding the topic entirely because he doesn't want you to feel as though this is a duty the two of you have to do.

He remembers when you two were first engaged and how you wanted to marry someone who truly loved you rather than someone marrying you out of a convenience.

His heartbeat when you told you should try for a child, he nearly passed out on the spot at the thought of you baring one of his children.

He knows you'd make fantastic mother; he doesn't doubt that in the least but since the wedding day he's realized something he should have a long time ago- something Kate is seeing for herself; he truly loves you.

Nowhere is it near what she thought they had but she's happy that he has someone who cares for him in more ways than she could.

She bids her farewells before pulling you to the side. "I apologize for intruding on your family dinner, but I think you should know you have nothing to worry about."

You furrow your brows. "I'm sorry, what-"

She shakes her head. "He loves you in more ways than he ever could care about me. I saw it tonight." She smiles, "all I ask is that you take care of him better than I could. I know you're good for him."

You stare at the door as it closes, unsure if anything that’s just happened is real or if this is a fever dream.

“Are you alright?”

You turn to face your husband and gulp. “Perfectly fine, why do you ask?”

“Did- She didn’t say anything, did she?”

The blank expression from your face falls and is replaced by one of annoyance. “What if she told me something she shouldn’t have? Is there something you wanted her to hide from me?”

He shakes his head, “is it too late to say no?”

You scoff, “you’re an idiot.” You close the door, not caring if it slams shut or not.

He stops it before it closes in his face, “I’m sorry I- it’s not true.”

“Then what is? Why do you care whether she’s told me about yours and her relationship or not? I know about you two. I’ve read the columns and-”

“That’s what I was worried about. I don’t want you to think something that isn’t true happened.” He stands behind the chair in front of your vanity. “I don’t want you think I’m a rake when I’m not, us marrying has changed things-”

“Us getting married is the only reason you’ve changed?”

“No,” he stumbles over his words, something he does more when he’s around you than anyone else he’s ever spoken to. “I-”

You push yourself out of the chair and walk towards the bed. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I keep pushing and I’m sorry but right now, I just want to go to sleep.”

“After you listen to what I have to say.”

“I have not felt the way I do for anyone else. I- no words can come close to what I feel for you.”

His grip tightens on the back of the chair. “I cannot- cannot breathe when you are near.” He catches your gaze, “you drive me insane when you try and argue with me. I don’t understand how you have vexed me and stolen my every thought. When you are here all I can think of is you, when you go out with my sister, you are the one thing on my mind. I- you, you are the bane of my existence, but I can’t seem to keep myself from you.”

You turn around, catching his gaze in the mirror. “Why are you telling me this?”

He spins around, “so you understand why I have changed. It’s not because I don’t care for you. I care too much about you. I have for a long time which is why I was scared when that bee was near you.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I was terrified I was going to lose you and I didn’t understand why until our marriage.”

“But- that was days ago.”

“Exactly,” he takes a step closer. “I’ve been losing my mind trying not to push you into something you’re not ready for. And then, earlier when you came to me, telling me we should try for a child. I didn’t know what to think.”

“What about Kate?”

He owlishly blinks, trying to understand where you’re coming from. “What about her?”

“You’ve been with women before me and I’ve accepted that, but Kate was here, having dinner with your family. She’s- she’s been around town from what I’ve heard being whispered behind my back. She was here and you didn’t tell me. You- you say that you love me, but I don’t know what to believe when the woman you were in love with, who later broke your heart, returned into your life and you didn’t so much as think to tell me. Benedict was more involved than I was!”

You don’t know why you’re getting so upset over this, it shouldn’t bother you this much since you don’t-

“I didn’t want her to spout lies about me to you and make you think I am not going to be a good husband.” He grabs your hands, “believe me when I say she is not relevant. You are my future.”

Your chest heaves with every breath you take. “How-” Your nose twitches as you purse your lips, collecting your thoughts before you completely explode.

“How what?” He switches between looking into one eye and then the other.

“How could I be blind?”

“To what?”

“I have loved you since I could understand what the word meant and now you- you-” You gesture to your back, “help me with my corset. I cannot breathe.”

He nearly rips your dress off you as he pulls the strings keeping the oxygen from getting into your lungs.

You hang your head, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

“Sweetheart…”

You turn around, pointing at him with wet cheeks. “You have ruined me. You have ruined me for any other man since before my first debutant and have had my heart for just as long and I didn’t know it yet.”

He holds his hand out for you, allowing you to take a step closer to him.

You accept and stand with a few inches between you two. “You have bewitched me from the beginning, if you can accept my foolishness and accept me now, I would happily give myself to you only if you can return the feelings.”

“I wouldn’t be able to survive if I declined your love.”

For the first time since the wedding, the two of you share a genuine kiss and not one where he tries to use his body to distract you. It’s one that makes it feel like the world’s stopped spinning and you two are the only ones in the world.

A knock on the door alerts the two of you.

You wince, covering your eyes with your hand before reaching over for him. “Anthony, wake up.”

“I’m coming in and I hope you two are decent.” She groans, “God, you two are naked. Gross.” Mildred complains loudly to whoever stands outside the door with her. “I thought they’d at least have the decency to be awake by now.”

You can hear Benedict’s voice, but it comes out all muffled because you’re not fully awake.

He opens his eyes and turns his head to find your beautiful face lying beside him, hair in disarray on the pillow. His thumb brushes across your cheekbone. “Good morning, Viscountess Bridgerton.”

You find it hard to resist the urge to smile and open your eyes, staring at him with nothing but love and happiness. You hum, brushing back his hair so it doesn’t look as messy, wanting to see more of his handsome face.

“Good morning, Viscount Bridgerton.” You remove your hand from his hair, pulling his hand away from your cheek to peck his palm. “What do you have planned for today?”

“Spending time with my wife, although I do have to say, I don’t think she’d appreciate me lying in bed with someone as breathtaking as yourself.”

You can’t help but smile. “I think if you paid her the same comments you do to me, she’d understand.”

He sucks in air through his teeth, “I don’t know. I think you’d have to meet her to find out the kind of woman she is.”

“I think I know.” You lean against your elbow, meeting him halfway for a morning kiss.

“Would you two hurry up? We have plans. I did not come here on a boat to see you two to stay in bed when I have plans with my cousin. Do you hear me, Bridgerton?”

He sighs, flopping back onto his back. “How could I not?”

You smack his chest before pushing yourself out of bed. “I’ll be ready soon. Go downstairs and wait for me, Millie.”

“If you’re not down here before sunset. I’m leaving.”

You chuckle to yourself. “Okay.”

He pulls you closer to him, hands resting against your waist, slowly wrapping around you. He kisses the exposed parts of your back before pulling you down, kissing along your shoulders.

“This cannot be safe.”

“Just because it’s a new corset, doesn’t mean it’s not safe.”

“For the baby.” He ties the strings through the loops. “When can we tell them?”

“When they won’t freak out.”

“Never, okay.”

You chuckle and spin around, placing your hands on his shoulders. “They will know soon. It’ll be fine.”

He stares into your eyes. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I think that’s my line.”

“Not today.”

You peck his lips before ordering him to tie the corset. “I’ll see you after our walk.”

“Don’t overexert yourself.”

“I won’t. Goodbye, ‘Thony.”

His eyes never left yours as you’re dragged away by your cousin.

Benedict steps inside. “Someone’s happy.”

He shakes his head, ignoring his brother; so happy go feed into the comments.

492 notes · View notes

vanishedinvain · 8 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐄

—𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader (but she doesn't show up yet, sorry lol)

summary: benedict's last moment of contentment before the storm that marooned his dreams.

warnings: very very brief mention of a gun, baby's first fic (it's me, i'm baby)

wc: 1.6k

next chapter // series masterlist

The Wiminet Art House sits just outside the limits of Mayfair, owned by the Dowager Baroness Lyra Wiminet. It is only half the size of a wing at Somerset House, and most of the artists are either anonymous or so unknown, they are as good as anonymous. It crams in an overwhelming number of pieces, barely a centimeter between each frame. It features a myriad of styles: soft landscapes, portraits, absurd finger-paintings, violent war scenes.

When it first opened, every London newspaper dismissed it as the eccentricity of a widow, mad without a man to guide her. There was no cohesion, they said. Downright tasteless. Where was the class? The refinement? It was a laughingstock for all of two days before the ton moved on as they always did.

It was also Benedict Bridgerton’s most frequented gallery. And Eloise had no idea why.

“You have been here at least twenty times in the past year, and they have only changed a single painting,” Eloise pointed out on one of these trips. Though she did not prefer to visit the same blasted gallery with the same blasted paintings, it was more merciful than watching Daphne and their mother flit about the house searching for the perfect dress to secure a proposal from the Prussian prince.

Plus her brother promised to buy her an apricot ice afterwards.

“What could possibly be left to see?” she asked.

They were standing in front of a rather large seascape, one that spanned a quarter of the wall. Benedict turned away to look at Eloise, a grimace upon her face as she tried to see what her brother saw. It was a quality Benedict most appreciated in her; she was stubborn and quick to snark, but she never wrote off his interests as frivolous. She was attempting to understand, even if she was staring at the painting like it personally offended her.

“Do you remember when you were eleven and Colin brought home that mystery novel for all of us? The one where an opera singer was killed in the middle of a show.”

“An Aria Most Deadly,” she recalled, smiling, “I couldn’t put it down. Col was scolded for bringing home such a—how did Mama word it?—terribly gruesome and improper book.”

He chuckled, remembering their mother’s scandalized face. As Colin was being scolded, she had set the book down on the settee. Eloise, ever nimble, snatched it and ran up to her room with nary a scuff across the floor.

“You re-read it over and over, looking for the clues, even after you’d finished it days prior. A snide comment from the stagehand that was once humorous turned dark. The author’s insistence on describing the location of the candelabra suddenly became obvious.”

“The details were so much clearer in hindsight,” she remarked.

“That is usually the privilege of hindsight.” He gestured back to the painting in front of them. “What do you see?”

She stared for a moment, tilting her head to one side to see if a change in angle would help. It was a turbulent scene, violent even, with outbursts of red and orange screaming amongst the cerulean and imposing slate clouds as the ship went down.

“A shipwreck?” Eloise answered with a shrug. “An unfortunately timed storm?”

Benedict stepped back, and grabbed Eloise by the shoulders, shifting her to the right so that she could stand in his place. “Do you see that spot of red on the ship?”

She squinted slightly. “Clearly, a fire broke out on the ship. Likely from the gunpowder catching on the wood. I mean, it says it in the title, Ship on Fire in Water,” she said, reading off the plaque underneath.

“But look closer at this spot of red at the front of the ship. Or that one by the captain’s quarters. Compare it to how the artist paints the flames,” Benedict insisted, gesturing to each area of interest. “He or she blends out the flames with orange and a bit of yellow usually. But these particular spots aren’t. They’re blended with brown. Maybe even a bit of black. That’s not fire, is it?”

Her eyebrows raised as the realization dawned on her. “It’s blood! Someone was killed. The captain, maybe?” She turned back to look at him in unbridled excitement at the newly-uncovered narrative.

Benedict smiled widely, crinkles forming around his eyes, watching his little sister finally get it, get him. “Possibly.”

“What do you think was the motive? Was it a mutiny?”

He shrugged. “That I am unsure of, dear sister. Every time I come back, I see something new. So, perhaps we need to look at it longer. Or make our rounds and come back with fresh eyes.”

Eloise had bounded off before he even finished.

They spent another two hours in the gallery, making little comments on each one, attempting to decipher a story from it. They even requested a step-ladder for the ones that had been skied because Benedict, having met Lady Wiminet, knew that there was no rhyme or reason as to the placement of each painting.

There was a most brilliant park scene about half a meter down from the ceiling. The artist did not draw a realistic, soft sunset, but a heightened one with punchy plums and a bright tangerine shade to blend. It was a bold choice that Benedict would’ve never thought of. The scene itself was of a promenade, much to Eloise’s displeasure, but she found amusement in mapping out the interpersonal relationships of the swans in the lake.

They made their way back to the bloodied, fiery ship shipwreck, standing in amicable silence before Eloise spoke.

“I understand it now. Why you've been here twenty times. Why you sketch until your fingers shake at dinner, but then use your drawings as fire kindle at night. You’re chasing greatness.”

“I want to get one of mine on these walls one day, El,” he said quietly, as if they weren’t the only people in the room. It was the first time he had admitted that ambition out loud.

“You will,” she replied, equally quiet back.

He sighed in relief. He wasn’t worried about Eloise’s reaction, though her vote of confidence was cherished. He was worried about being so unworthy that the words would refuse to roll off his tongue, lodging in his throat as a croak. But the idea was out there now, and a mirthful giddiness sprouted forth in the soil where his insecurities were rooted.

“I’d be anonymous, though,” he added after a pause.

She frowned, but neither of them made further comments on the subject. He already understood what she didn't verbalize. She dreaded living and dying in anonymity without a university degree or prolific novel attached to her name, something to outlast her that wasn’t a dullard husband or terrifying child. She could not stand the thought that the world might feel zero impact from her existence.

Benedict, however, was far less eager to sign his name on a canvas. He could be displayed in any gallery in England if he simply asked, regardless of whether he was even good enough. Who would dare criticize a Bridgerton painting, with nine generations of viscounts breathing down their necks? If he were to ever put his name on any of his work, he wanted—needed—to be so good that everyone would be too awestruck by what was in front of them to check whose name was etched onto the little copper plaque beneath the frame.

This was one of the only points of incongruence between the second eldest Bridgerton brother and sister that couldn’t be remedied by a simple anecdote or shift to the right. Though, perhaps there was no need for one; a painter would never ask a writer to adjust her palette and a writer would never tell a painter his meter was off-tempo.

It was an afternoon well spent away from the ornery obligations of the social season, coming home with their appetites spoiled from the promised apricot ices. Benedict grabbed An Aria Most Deadly from the library, and read the first few chapters before retiring for the night. He’d finished the novel after he pried it away from Eloise years ago, so he knew it was the conductor who had killed the opera singer. This knowledge only pulled the deftly placed clues into crisp focus upon this second reading; even the first chapter was littered with hints.

Perhaps that is why when he sits in the viscount’s study, the one that was never supposed to go to him, he often thinks about the night of Granville’s party. That night began with him feeling so alive, more alive than he could ever fathom. Yet, it ended with a sinking stone of dread taking up a months-long residence in the pit of his stomach.

Were there clues he should’ve seen?

If he’d been less drunk off the wine or the women or both, he’d have noticed Daphne wasn’t wearing the necklace gifted to her by the prince, even though he clocked the ostentatious clunk of jewelry when she left for the Trowbridge Ball. Or that the hem of her dress was muddy and her face was pinched, on the verge of tears.

If he wasn’t so preoccupied with how to take advantage of his freedoms as the spare of the family, he’d have noticed the blooming violet bruises on Anthony’s knuckles as he yanked Benedict into the study with considerable force.

It wasn’t until he was rolling his shoulder, about to complain that his arm could've been popped out of its socket, when the gun box was placed on the desk with a resounding thud.

Things only clicked into place as Anthony began frantically talking about estates and dowries and an appointment with the duke at dawn, but there were signs from the moment he walked in the door.

The details were always so much clearer in hindsight.

next chapter // series masterlist

a/n: they dropped new abc pictures last month, and i decided to make it everyone else's problem by starting this fic. now it’s bridgerton eve!!! rejoice!!!

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fic #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton netflix

207 notes · View notes

shelbgrey · 4 months ago

Text

Smut Alphabet(Colin Bridgerton)

Paring: Colin Bridgerton x Plus Sized!Reader

Summary: smut headcanons about everyone's favorite world traveler who likes to get it on in a carriage, ✨Colin!✨

MasterList ML2

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He's very attentive when it comes to aftercare, all he cares about is your comfort. He'll hold you and kiss every mark while you catch your breath. After you have mentally and physically calmed down, he'll run you a hot bath and clean you up.

You guys aren't very wild in the bedroom, but the sex is still good. No matter how soft and attentive he is, he'll always make sure you're okay after words.

B = Body part (your favorite body part of his and his favorite of yours)

This man is very body positive when it comes to you. So he'd love your thick thighs or curves. He loves just to be able to hold on to you rather your a moaning mess under him or taking charge and riding him.

So his favorite thing is your thighs, he's just in love with the fact you have extra meat on them. He's in heaven at the feeling of them around his waist while he's pounding into you. Even better if your thighs are locked around his head as he's eating you out.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically…I’m a disgusting person)

He loves making you cum on his fingers. Watching you come undone on just his fingers drives him wild.

Cum eating, so he has no problem licking his fingers clean while you watch.

D = Dominant? (Pretty self-explanatory, how dominant is he)

He's not very dominant, if it's your first time he'll control things and teach you what to do. But you both have equal control in the bedroom.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's very expernced and knows how to pleasure a woman, but with the more wilder ones. He loves the fact he gets to explore your body and the things you like. Learn how to pleasure you and only you.

He won't care if you're not experienced, he'll guide you through the whole damn process and still make you see stars by the end of it.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

He loves missionary, keeping eye contact while he fucks you. He loves how you dig your nails into his back and wrap your legs around his waist to bring him impossibly closer.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

He's more sweet than goofy. He doesn't want to take it too seriously, because it's you guys being comfortable with each other and making each other feel good.

He's more likely to say something really sweet than somthing goofy

H = Hair(Hair pulling?)

Fuck, he's all about hair pulling and just having your fingers in his hair in general. It doesn't matter if you're just running your fingers through his locks while your kissing or tugging for dear life while yes fucking you.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He always tries to make it romantic even if it's a heat of the moment thing. He believes you deserve nothing but the best. You're a beautiful woman to him and he knows you should be treated that way.

J = Jealous? (Is he the jealous type? Are you? )

He gets jealous easily, especially if he sees you with someone else. He trusts you, but he doesn't trust other men. He hates seeing you dance with anyone eles.

He's probably only comfortable seeing you with Anthony or Benedict.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Location kink?: what I mean by this is that he'll have a thing about taking you with him on his travels and fuck you in whatever city or town your in. Most of the time it's a romantic place.

Hair pulling: specifically when you do it to him. he loves feeling your fingers in his hair just Playing with or tugging on while he's eating you out or pounding into you. If you need to ground yourself he won't mind one bit if you use his hair.

He also loves to tangle his fingers in yours and tug on it when he's getting head or about ready to cum.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom, this is a given. He can guarantee your comfort and it's just convenient for both parties. Most importantly he can tie your wrists to the bed post.

And of course he doesn't have a problem with making you cum in a carriage on the way home or on your way to a ball.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, what turns you on)

Eye contact really turns him on, the way your pupils dilate when you look up at him or when your body brushes up against his when your dancing together really has him aroused. Sometimes when you're dancing he has to press himself against you so no one sees the bulge in his pants

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He won't do anything that could possibly hurt you, that's his worst fear. It took him a while to tie you up or something like that because he didn't want to hurt you.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He always puts your pleasure above his, so he always makes sure you come first. When you're on the brink of cumming, he'll increase the pressure and speed of his tongue, alternating between gentle laps and firmer strokes.

But I think he preferres making you cum in his fingers. He loves it when your hips buck against his hand in a desperate bid for release “That's it, Darling, let go”

He is so vocal when he's getting head, he'll let out deep groans and moans when you deep throat him.

P = Pace(Are they fast and rough or they slow and sensual?)

Most of the time he just wants to be gentle and take it slow, hold you and kiss you. Make you feel loved in a softer way. “just let me take care of you”

Q = Quickie (Their opinion on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

It's not his favorite thing at all, but if you need a release he's right behind you as you take him somewhere private.

He'll always take you home and finish what you started.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He'll never risk harming your body, he's very rational and even though both love to explore new things, he genuinely thinks things through before doing it. If he feels you'll get hurt he won't do it.

S = Sex position (Pretty self explanatory)

Missionary

Ridding

T = Top or bottom ( do they prefer top or bottom)

Both

U = Ummm

Use your imagination

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He wants to see if he can he make you scream louder than he did the last time. He loves the noises you make.

He is so vocal, he'll let out deep groans and moans as he feels your tight pussy wrap around his cock when you ride him. “Oh fuck yeah, that's it darling. Your doing so fucking good”

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

The day you bought your first how together, you guys fucking in every room to 'break the house in' and you even broke a brand new desk.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

It Doesn't matter what his size is, he knows house to please you and he can definitely fuck your brains out.

Z = ZZZ (How fast do you fall asleep)

He can either sleep like a rock or not sleep at all, there's no in between. He definitely sleeps better after sex.

#Colin Bridgerton #Colin Bridgerton smut #Colin Bridgerton x Reader #Colin Bridgerton headcanons #Colin Bridgerton imagines #Bridgerton x Reader #Bridgerton imagines #Luke newton

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munsonsmixtapes · 4 months ago

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hi there, so this is my first time requesting anything from you but i just wanted to say i loved the paint me series, it was fantastic and i cried a lot but my idea was for benedict about how him and a plus sized reader are engaged and she goes to the seamtress to be fitted for her wedding dress and some of the seasons other debutante are there and whisper like why would anyone marry her and things... benedict hears about it from eloise who tagged along cause her and reader just get along fantastically and on their wedding night.. he worships reader, like this boy would be so loving, if you could, i would love it

Oh my gosh, thank you so much, lovely! And yes, of course! I love anything having to do with a plus sized reader!

Benedict Bridgerton x plus size!fem!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) fatphobia, reader receives a hickey, oral (f receiving) nipple play (f receiving)

"How about this?" Madame Delacroix asked as she stood behind you, pinning it at the sides with intention of taking it in. You loved the way it looked.

You were getting fitted for your wedding dress, knowing that it would have been best to have something made for your instead of purchasing one that was already done since it was difficult to find anything that fit right.

Your engagement to Benedict wasn't surprising to anyone considering the fact that it had been a long time coming. You and Benedict had been friends for a long time, slowly becoming lovers as you got older. The transition was so seamless, the two of you seeming like an old married couple.

If he was being honest, Benedict had been in love with you since the moment he laid eyes on you. It was as if he was a sailor and you were a siren, drawn to your beauty as he stared at you from across the room. He asked you to dance and that was it. You were inseparable from that moment and now he was going to marry you.

"You look amazing," Eloise told you, a smile on her face. The two of you had been attached at the hip since you and Benedict had begun courting and she could not have been more excited to have you as a sister.

"Promise?" You asked, still unsure. You had started to feel more confident in your body as you got older, but standing there where anyone could see you if they passed by the store suddenly made you feel self conscious.

"I promise," she nodded.

"Benedict is going to love it too," Madame Delacroix spoke up as she stepped back to admire her work. You knew he would, but you suddenly had a sinking feeling when you saw some other debutants giggling as you looked at yourself in the mirror, admiring what you saw.

You knew that deep down, they were only laughing at you because they were jealous of your relationship with Benedict. He had been a hot commodity for years and you had scooped him up. You remembered how rude different women had been to you when your engagement had been announced by Lady Whistledown, the amount of rude comments that had been thrown your way. And they were always when Benedict wasn't around because they didn't want him to see them behaving so nastily towards his bride, knowing that he would have shut it down immediately.

You turned your head and saw Eloise out of the corner of your eye. She made her way over to the women and whispered something to them in a hushed tone before they all scattered, exiting the shop and hurrying down the street, leaving the three of you alone again.

"Don't listen to them," Madame Delacroix told you as she rested a hand on your shoulder, smiling at you through the mirror.

"I second that," Eloise nodded, taking your hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. "They're just jealous that you have Benedict and they don't." You knew that they were telling the truth and not just trying to make you feel better, but now you were suddenly feeling ill, bile climbing up your throat as you thought about how Benedict would have reacted to the whole situation.

You knew that he would have taken you into his arms and reassured you that he loved you, telling you that he had proposed to you for a reason, but you couldn't help but imagine him laughing at you. That he didn't love you at all and that he was just giving you pity.

"I think I need to leave," you said under your breath but the two women had heard you perfectly, both trying their best to help you out of the dress as quickly as possible. You were feeling claustrophobic, like the walls were caving in and like the corset you were wearing was becoming tighter by the second.

You were also starting to become dizzy as you got back into your other dress, the women's laughs echoing in your head, taunting you. Your breathing became labored as you collapsed to the floor, trying to catch it. But all that came out were sobs. Eloise and Madame Delacroix were quick to comfort you, Madame Delacroix holding out handkerchief and Eloise rubbing your back sympathetically.

"Thank you," you sniffed as you took the handkerchief and dabbed at your eyes.

"Of course, my lady."

"Let's get to the carriage," Eloise suggested as she helped you to your feet. You held onto her as she led you out of the shop and Madame Delacroix followed, seeing you both off before heading back into the shop to tend to some customers who had just walked in.

As soon as you both were enclosed in the carriage, Eloise moved to sit across from you, taking your hand once she was settled. She didn't think she was very good at comforting, but seeing you so upset broke her heart, so she was going to do whatever she could to make you feel better.

"Please don't tell Benedict," you pleaded and Eloise nodded. Even though she was very close to her second eldest brother, she felt like she owed it to you to keep your breakdown a secret. If you didn't want Benedict to know, then she wouldn't tell him.

"I won't," she replied. "It will be our secret."

The carriage pulled up to the Bridgerton home and Eloise ushered you inside, trying to hide you from your fiancé so he wouldn't see the tears streaming down your face. But the man had met you at the door, a wide smile on his face as he took in his bride, looking froward to knowing how the fitting went.

You quickly pushed past him and his sister followed, wanting to make sure that you were all settled and also needing time to come up with a lie to tell her brother. He just watched, furrowing his eyebrows as he followed the two of you up the stairs, but Eloise stopped him, wanting to keep him away from you just like she had promised.

"Y/n isn't feeling well," she told him, but immediately regretted it as she realized that would have only made him more concerned.

"Then I must go to her."

"No," she grabbed hold of his shoulders to prevent him from going any further.

"Why-"

"Let's talk in the study, hm?" She asked as she grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him in that direction. Benedict just followed, his heart racing as he looked back at you disappearing into his room and slamming the door. His heart ached as he realized how upset you must have been.

Once in the study, Eloise closed the door and forced him to sit next to her on the couch. She knew she was supposed to keep it a secret, but she just couldn't. She felt like he deserved to know the truth as it was much easier to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission.

She took a deep breath and looked into her brother's eyes, seeing how worried he was for his future wife. And it broke her heart that she was going to break his even more. Benedict loved you more than he could comprehend and Eloise saw that. That was why she had become so protective of you despite you being older than her.

"There were some women making fun of y/n-"

As soon as the words left her mouth, he was out the door, making a beeline for his room. He didn't need to hear the rest, he just needed to be there to comfort you. To hold you and tell you that everything was going to be alright.

You were his number one priority always and he wanted to do whatever he could to make you feel better. He didn't care what it was. He just wanted to put the tears to rest. He hated seeing you so upset and just wanted to shrink you down and put you in his pocket so he could protect you from being hurt ever again.

Benedict hesitantly knocked on the door, wanting you to give him permission to enter even though it was his room. When he didn't hear anything after a few knocks, he took a deep breath, assuming that it was bad since you weren't responding.

"Darling, it's me. Can I come in?" When there was still no response, he slowly opened the door only to see that you were under the covers with them pulled all the way over your head. His heart broke even more as he took the whole scene in and he hesitant entered the room before closing the door gently behind him.

He then made his way across the room and placed himself next to you, not wanting to touch you to give your space, but moving just close enough to when you'd be able to hear him with the blanket over your head.

"Eloise told me what happened," he said. "And I'm here to listen if you want to talk."

You slowly lowered the blanket, looking him in the eyes and his stomach lurched as he took in the tears that stained your cheeks. He reached up and wiped the new ones that fell, holding your face gently in his hands as he did so.

"I don't want to talk about it," you told him and he nodded in understanding.

"And you don't have to. We can just sit here if you'd like. Or I can go if you want me to."

"You can stay," you said, reaching up to grab hold of his wrists. "I want you to hold me."

He wordlessly pulled you to his chest, seeing that you were already in your nightgown despite it still being the afternoon. He then pulled you to his chest, knowing that this was your favorite place to be: wrapped up in his arms. He wrapped them tightly around you before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I love you," he said, the words falling from his lips so effortlessly, his heart filling up with the feeling that he didn't even know what to do with it. He loved you more than you'd ever know and wanted to remind you every chance he got.

"I love you too," you responded, looking up at him and he pressed his lips to yours in a brief, closed-mouthed kiss before pulling away. You just looked at him with an unamused face and he chuckled, going in for another one, giving you exactly what you wanted this time.

His lips slotted between yours, and your eyes fluttered closed as he took the lead as always, wanting to show you just how much he loved you just with his lips. He rolled onto his back and you knew exactly what he was doing as this exact thing had happened before.

He loved how you felt underneath his hands, your weight never even on his mind. He knew that was exactly why you were upset even though you hadn't said the words. That was always a problem and he knew exactly what people had said about you, even supposed "friends" and he was quick to cut ties with anyone who had a bad word to say about you and your weight or the way you looked. He didn't care how long he had known them or how good of a friend they were to him; he was going to no longer speak to anyone who dared to speak to or about his wife in that way.

"How about I show you how much I love you, hm?" He asked, his hands moving up your back. That intrigued you. The words always made your heart flutter, but seeing it physically made you see just how much love he had for you.

"Please," you begged and he was quick to press his lips to yours once again, this time letting his tongue swipe along the seam of your lips. You opened up and he slid it inside, lazily swirling it around yours, taking his time. He wanted to make you feel good and this time, you had nowhere to be so he was going to take however long he wanted to make his wife feel like the queen he knew she was.

You and Benedict had slept together more times than you could count, but this time was different, you knew it. He usually didn't have time to go slowly, pulling you aside when he had a free chance, pushing himself inside of you, and covering your mouth so no one could hear you moan. And as much as you liked the thrill of having to rush to avoid getting caught, there was something about this that was so sweet and special.

He pushed one of your sleeves off of your shoulder and pulled you closer to him, leaning down as he did so. He peppered your skin with kisses, featherlight, but still filled with as much passion as the ones he pressed to your lips.

Benedict then nightly nibbled at the spot, causing a gasp to leave your mouth and he just chuckled in response before diving back in. He then began to suck on the skin, wanting it to be in a spot that you could easily cover up, a secret just between the two of you.

You grabbed onto his arms as a moan escaped your mouth, feeling your legs turning into jelly. His sucking was becoming even more harsh, wanting the bruise to be prominent, a physical reminder or how much Benedict loved you.

"Oh," was all you were able to say and this time, Benedict didn't care how loud you were, not embarrassed now that he family knew that he was sleeping with you. With the way he had been behaving, they had to know that he was having sex with his fiancée, right?

His teeth grazed the skin and that seemed to completely undo you as you fully pressed yourself against him. Your next moan was even louder and he took that as an invitation to continue, grazing with his teeth one more time before diffusing the sting with his tongue.

Benedict then pulled away to admire his work, seeing the bruise already forming, shining with his spit. He then turned his gaze to you, seeing lust forming in your eyes already. He pressed another kiss to your lips as his skated down your sides, bunching up your gown in his hands as he slid them up your legs, grabbing onto your bare hip as he pulled you closer once more.

He backed you up until the backs of your legs hit the bed and continued the kiss, only breaking away to discard your nightgown. Now you were naked below him and he would never get over just how beautiful you were.

He reached out and let his fingers glide across your stretch marks on your arm, hating that such a small mark made you feel bad about yourself. You had told him as much multiple times and he intended on making you love them just as much as he did. If he was being honest, he loved seeing them on people. He thought it gave them character.

He pressed a kiss to the spot then moved to your other one before moving down to your collar bone, pressing a few kisses to the spot before looking up at you with his pretty green eyes.

“I’m going to fucking worship you,” he said, his eyes softening. This was going to be all about you and he was more than looking forward to loving on every single inch of your body.

“I think that’s a big task.” Benedict had a big ego so he was very confident in his ability to please a woman. He always knew what he was doing every time, knowing the right move to make. It was as if he was solving a puzzle, knowing exactly what pieces fit where.

“I don’t,” he shook his head, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. “You’re going to know just how fucking beautiful I think you are when I’m done.”

He then moved back down to your collarbone, peppering it with kisses before moving down to your tit, pressing a kiss to each side before slowly licking across your nipple. You let out a loud gasp as your hands went to the back of his head, burying your fingers into his hair.

He gave the spot another lick before taking the whole thing into his mouth, flicking his tongue back and forth across it before giving it a suck. Your fingers pressed into his scalp even further, wondering why he had never done this to you before.

“Oh-oh my god,” you whined, feeling your back arching already and Benedict took the opportunity to slide his arms around you, pulling you even closer to him than before to have more access to you. He continued to lick and suck on your nipple, his movements very similar to what he had done to your shoulder, but this he had never done before.

And you couldn't get enough. You were fully content with him doing that exact thing for hours, but you just knew that this was only the beginning. He had to have a lot more in store with the way he had spoken to you. He said he was going to worship you and you were sure that a lot came with that.

Your back arched even more as another moan fell from your lips and moved onto the other nipple, wanting to give it the same attention, but this time, he decided to test the waters, bringing your nipple between his teeth, biting down gently on it. That had done exactly what he had wanted as a scream came out of your mouth, his name on your tongue.

He gave it one more bite then pulled away, just to see your fucked out face. You were already tired, but you weren't going to give up just yet. You were looking forward to seeing just what he had in store as far as loving on you was concerned.

"You're perfect," Benedict said, pressing a soft kiss to the spot between your tits. "So fucking perfect." He whispered the last part then pulled away again to give you some time to breathe before he moved on to the next part of his worshipping.

Your cheeks burned from his compliment, still not completely used to the sweet words that would always fall from his lips. He said them all the time, but that didn't take away from how special they made you feel.

Once you had come down from your orgasm, Benedict moved lower your bottom half already exposed to him. He spread your legs wide and could see that you were already so wet, and he normally would have commented on it, but he didn't feel like it was appropriate to tease you.

"Gonna make you feel so good," he said. "Do you mind if I get a taste?"

"Not at all," you replied. Benedict knew that you loved to be eaten out so he fully intending to make this the main event, wanting to give you the best head of your life.

He took one of your legs and kissed all the way up then moved onto the other before throwing your legs over his shoulders. He then looked up at you for permission and when you nodded, he dove in, going straight for your clit. He took his time, flicking back and forth before he went in with his mouth, sucking lightly at it to warm you up and then when he could hear you whining, he sucked harder. Your hands went to his hair again, giving it tugs to tell him to continue and that mixed with your many sounds of pleasure were enough to encourage him to continue.

He licked and sucked, deciding that he could do it forever, loving the way you responded to him and also loving the way you tasted, never getting over it. He was pretty sure he loved eating you out more than you loved being on the receiving end of it.

Once he thought your clit had received enough attention, he moved to your slit, grabbing hold of your hips and pulling you to him to have more access to him. He flattened his tongue against the spot and licked slowly and clearly you enjoyed it considering the fact that your thighs tightened against his head.

“Benny, oh my god,” you whined, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and giving it another tug. His tongue moved back and forth, back and forth until he introduced his mouth, sucking every last bit of your slick that he could.

For the finale, he stuck his tongue inside of you, causing you to moan even louder, your hands moving to bed now, fisting the sheets. He swirled his tongue around, his finger digging into your hips and your ankles locked at the back of his neck as his tongue hit just the right spot, causing you to see stars, your vision going hazy. Your back arched for the final time as you reached yet another orgasm and Benedict swirled his tongue around once more before pulling away from you to let you come down.

He wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt then cleaned you up before cleaning house up. He then helped you put your nightgown back on before collapsing next to you on the bed.

“Believe me now?” He asked.

“I never doubted your love for me, Benny,” you chuckled. “But now it’s even more clear.”

“Good,” he replied, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to it before letting your intertwined hands lay in between the two of you. “Because I do love you with everything that I am. See?” He raised your hand and brought yours to lay flat on his chest. “It only beats for you.”

You smiled at him then pulled him in for a kiss before snuggling into his chest, feeling nothing but comfort as you heard his heartbeat, the thump, thump, thumping lulling you to sleep.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

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