#benedictbridgerton*

[silverhallow]

😍😍😍😍😍😍

[sapphirebluejewel]

Endless List of Platonic Relationships That I Love - Bridgerton Family

"I realize it may be unfashionable, but we like each other. Most of the time."

[colins-bridgerton]

bridgerton season 2 meme:

4/6 dynamics benedict & colin bridgerton

[maki-2206]

The Pearl

Book one of The Pearl Book Series.

queen charlotte book story, Lady Mariah Blackson navigates through the season and life starting as a closed off cold person to having these people slowly break down her walls to show that the little girls who was one there is still is just scared.

Not all rights go to me as im using the books to help with the storys.

[nicolettesdreamworld]

Fanfic - Masterlist

Guilty as sin - Klaus Mikaelson

(in progress)

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10 I Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15 I Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19 I Chapter 20 I Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23 I Chapter 24 I Chapter 25 I Chapter 26 I Chapter 27 I Chapter 28 I Chapter 29 I Chapter 30 I Chapter 31 I Chapter 32 I Chapter 33 I Chapter 34 I Chapter 35 I Chapter 36 I Chapter 37 I Chapter 38 I Chapter 39

Blue and Lilac - Benedict Bridgerton

(in progress)

SEASON 1

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10 I Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15 I Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I

SEASON 2

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Shorter stories

Bound by Moonlight (Klaus Mikaelson)

Bound by Moonlight - pt. 2

Bound by Moonlight - pt. 3

The Ghost (Spencer Reid) pt.1 |

[brknmnds]

@theonlytwoalive asked:

"You occupy my every thought." for Benedict !

Benedict had grown close to the young lord. They often snuck away and spent time alone together when the balls were happening and the artist had never found himself happier.

He had never found himself attracted to other males in the past. He really only found out it being a thing with Henry. He was confused in himself, was he attracted to Theo? Did he have feelings for him? he wasn't sure, he didn't know how to feel.

"You have been in mine as well and it confuses me." Benedict said looking over at him.

[thorins-queen-of-erebor]

Warnings talk of suicide!!!

After watching the second part of bridgerton season 3 I had a break down and nearly committed suicide. I was completely shattered when Benedict end up as bisexual as his romance in the book is considered one of the most romantic fairytale romances of the whole series.

I have nothing against the LGBTQIA 🏳️‍🌈 community and I am all for representation in shows but I felt it unnecessary to make a straight character bisexual who was happily married to a woman in the books as during that time period he could have been persecuted for his sexuality.

I was so I love with him but seeing that change ripped my heart apart.

Please don’t attack me if my feelings offend you I just felt like I needed to tell my story as it really destroyed me. I also have Asperger’s so it affected me maybe more than is normal.

[realmofthedragon]

@depictedblue continued from [x]

Cassie is still shaking when Benedict punches the male in the nose and goes down. It is so casual and yet humbling as well. She steps over her offender wanting to immediately kick him in the privates but she is trembling too much. The cold air is a shock to her system and she is glad to see her future husband but also confused because she was not expecting his presence. She forces the cool air into her lungs giving a nod when he looks her over but she feels like crying. She's so ashamed and embarrassed but Benedict does not seem to be blaming her.

“I am filled with sorrow… I did not want that to happen nor did I welcome such advances.” She murmurs looking down and wiping her tear stricken face. At his command, she nods squeezing his hand. She wants to ask if he has good news but she is too caught up in her sorrow and injustice. She finds her boss and takes the coins in her palm tucking them into the waistband of her frock

“You saved me, oh…” her voice is sincere and blue eyes focus on him lovingly. She swallows past that pesky lump in her throat it never truly went away

“And I was not expecting you… is everything okay?” She is still trembling but trying to remain calm not wanting to vex him with her emotions

"No other man will ever touch you like that again. They are filth on our shoes. You, my dear, are a goddess." Benedict would be the only person that would touch her in such a way and only then if she wanted it. He was brought up and will always be a gentleman.

"Of course I did. You are to be my wife. I will protect you from anything that could harm you." She would be safe now that she wouldn't be working in such an establishment anymore. His hands moved to run up and down her arms trying to calm her down.

"Everything is fine. My mother and brother want to meet you and your family. A dinner before they agree to anything, but it looks like you will be becoming my wife."

[bridgertontess]

Good Morning!

[feelgoodbridgerton]

Chapter 12: Mr. Collins' Visit

Sorry this Chapter is short.

Ingrid woke up from a nightmare, sweating and trembling. She had dreamed of the day she was kidnapped, the day she was trampled by horses, the day she lost her memory. She had remembered everything, in vivid and painful detail. She had remembered who she was, who Benedict was, and who they were to each other. She had remembered their love, their happiness, their plans. She had remembered it all, and she wished she hadn't.

Ingrid lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She had been back at Whittington House for a week. She had recovered from her amnesia, but not from her broken leg. She had to wear a cast and use crutches, and she hated it. She felt weak, helpless, and ugly.

She also felt guilty, ashamed, and unworthy. She had pushed Benedict away, after he had declared his love for her and asked her to marry him. She had told him that he didn't want a broken or injured wife, that he deserved someone better, someone whole and beautiful. She had told him to leave her alone, and never come back.

She knew she had hurt him deeply, but she also thought she had done him a favor. She loved him more than anything in the world, but she also wanted him to be happy. And she didn't think he could be happy with her.

But of Course Benedict didn't listen to her. He refused to leave her alone. He told her that she was the most beautiful, brave, and wonderful woman he had ever met. He told her that he wanted to marry her, and that he didn't care about her leg.

She heard a knock on the door, and turned her head. She saw her mother, Lady Whittington, standing there. She looked at her with a stern and serious expression.

"Hello, Mother. What do you want?" Ingrid asked ."I want to talk to you, Ingrid. May I come in?" Lady Whittington asked.

"Sure, Mother. Come in," Ingrid said.

Lady Whittington entered the room, and sat down on a chair next to Ingrid's bed. She looked at her daughter with concern and disappointment.

"Ingrid, I'm very worried about you. You've been acting very strangely since you came back. You hardly eat or sleep or smile. You don't talk to anyone or do anything. You just lie here all day, feeling sorry for yourself," Lady Whittington said.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I'm not feeling very well," Ingrid said.

"I know you're not feeling well, Ingrid. You've been through a lot. You've been kidnapped by a monster, injured by an accident, and lost your memory for a while. You've suffered more than anyone should ever have to suffer. And I'm very proud of you for surviving and recovering from it all," Lady Whittington said.

"Thank you, Mother. That's very kind of you," Ingrid said.

"You welcome dearest now it's time for you to get dressed and come downstairs." She says standing up then patting the bed.

Looking at her quizzically Ingrid asks, "But why mother?"

"Because you have a visitor waiting for you." She replies gliding to the door and ushering in the maids.

Groaning Ingrid says, "If it's Benedict," "It is not." you're mother cuts her off sternly and shuts the door behind her.

After quite some time Ingrid is dressed and down the staircase, she walks into the dining room and to her surprise sees Mr. Collins at the table wearing his half mask that covers his injury and his cane is gently leaned against his chair.

Ingrid felt a surge of emotion as she saw Mr. Collins sitting at the table. She had not seen him since St. Mary's Hospital. She walked slowly towards him, feeling nervous and curious. She noticed that he looked pale and thin, but also handsome and dignified. He wore a dark suit and a white cravat, and his half mask was made of black leather. His brown hair was neatly combed, and his remaining eye was a deep blue. He looked up as she approached, and smiled slightly.

"Miss Whittington, I'm very glad to see you again," he said, in a low and gentle voice.

"Mr. Collins, I'm very surprised to see you here," she said, in a polite tone. She sits down across from him. "What are you doing here?"

"I hope you don't mind my visit. I came to see how you were doing, and per your mother's request give you some  advice."

"Advice? Advice about what?" Ingrid quips.

"About Whom?" Her mother inquiries. 

"Mother, please don't," Ingrid said.

"Yes, Ingrid, I'm talking about Benedict Bridgerton. He's been here every day since you came back, trying to see you and talk to you and comfort you. But you won't let him in your room or in your heart. You won't even look at him or listen to him. You just tell him to go away and leave you alone," Lady Whittington said.

 "I'm very disappointed in you, Ingrid. You've been making some very foolish and hurtful decisions lately. You've been pushing away the one person who loves you more than anything in the world. The one person who risked his life to save you from that monster. The one person who wants to make you happy for the rest of your life," Mr. Collins says.

Ingrid looks at him astonished.

Leaning forward Mr. Collins looks her in the eyes "You told me you were going to love him, and to keep him because he's the best thing that ever happened to you."

"You don't understand Mr. Collins that's easier said than done!" Ingrid exclaims frustrated.

"Do not tell me I don't understand Miss Whittington!" He retorts back.

"I'm sorry Mr. Collins I forgot about your situation please forgive me." Ingrid says sheepishly shrinking back in her chair.

"No Miss Whittington I am sorry I shouldn't have raised my voice at you, but I can't stand to see you treat Mr. Bridgerton so badly. He doesn't deserve it, Ingrid. He deserves your love and your gratitude and your respect. He's a wonderful man, Ingrid. A handsome, charming, wealthy man who could have any woman he wants in the world. But he only wants you, Ingrid. He only loves you."

"Mother, Mr. Collins, please understand, I don't want him to feel burdened or ashamed if we marry I don't want him to have a broken, injured wife." Ingrid says.

"No, Ingrid, you need to understand.  how lucky you are to have him love you so much. You need to understand how foolish you are to push him away so hard. You need to understand how wrong you are to think that he won't want a broken or injured wife," Mr. Collins said.

"Ingrid, you listen to me. He doesn't care about your broken leg or your injured body or your scars or your bruises or anything else that might make you feel less than perfect in your eyes or anyone else's eyes. He cares about your heart and your soul and your mind and your spirit and everything else that makes you who you are in his eyes or anyone else's eyes. He loves you for you, Ingrid. He loves you for you," Lady Whittington said. She reached out her hand, and held Ingrid's hand tightly.

"Mother, please," Ingrid pleads. "No, Ingrid, no more please. No more excuses. No more lies. No more self-pity. No more rejection. No more pushing him away. It's time to face the truth, Ingrid. It's time to accept his love, Ingrid. It's time to be happy, Ingrid," Lady Whittington said.

 "Ingrid. Please, for your sake and his sake and everyone's sake. Please, don't let him go. Please, don't let him slip away. Please, don't let him break his heart or yours. Please, give him a chance. Please, give yourself a chance. Please, say yes to him," Mr. Collins said.

Ingrid looked at her mother and Mr. Collins with tears in her eyes. She felt a surge of emotion in her chest. She felt love and guilt and fear and hope and happiness.

She looked at her mother in the eyes with gratitude and admiration.

"Thank you, Mother. Thank you for being here for me. Thank you for being so kind and supportive. Thank you for being my mother," she said.

Lady Whittington smiled warmly, and hugged her daughter. "You're welcome, Ingrid. You're my daughter, and I love you more than anything in the world," she said.

Mr. Collins rises from his seat and reaches for his cane. "I'm afraid I have to take my leave now," he announces. He embraces Ingrid warmly and says, "It was a pleasure to help you see reason, my dear."

"Please, stay a little longer," Mrs. Whittington urges.

"No, no, I couldn't impose. Besides, Miss Ingrid has an important call to make to Mr. Bridgerton." He winks at her and she beams with excitement. She runs off to find a suitable place for her conversation.

Mr. Collins laughs softly and shakes his head. "Ah, to be young and in love again." He sighs wistfully. "You are not too old to find love again, Mr. Collins," Mrs. Whittington assures him. "Love is a rare commodity for a man of my station and age," he replies. "Well, I hope you will find it someday, Mr. Collins," she says with a smile as she walks him to the door. "Clara, bring Mr. Collins his hat and coat, please." "They are right here, mama," Clara says, appearing from the foyer. She hands them to Mr. Collins, her cheeks flushed. "Thank you, milady," he says, taking them from her. "You're welcome," Clara says timidly. Mr. Collins puts on his coat and turns to Mrs. Whittington. "You have very lovely daughters, madam," he compliments. "Thank you, Mr. Collins," she responds, and Clara blushes even more. As he steps out of the door, he hears Clara ask, "Will we see you again, Mr. Collins?" He looks back at her and says, "Only time will tell, my dear." He tips his hat to her and closes the door behind him.

[amberfreysworld]

check out torn by kennedibishopsworld on wattpad

[sapphirebluejewel]

Endless List of Platonic Relationships I Love - Eloise and Benedict Bridgerton

"Love is not finite, Eloise."

[colins-bridgerton]

bridgerton season 2 meme:

3/3 bridgertons benedict bridgerton

[maki-2206]

the pearl

book one

Act three- the strong desire

Essex, England

The park

16th September 1761

Mariah nods, her eyes still closed. She allows herself to lean into him, to let go of some of her fears and doubts. For the first time in a long time, she feels a glimmer of hope, a glimpse of something beautiful in the distance.

"I… I trust you," she whispers, her voice trembling with vulnerability. "I trust that you won't let me down. I trust that you will help me heal, to find myself again."Mattheo's heart swells with affection and admiration for her. He lowers his head and places a tender kiss on her temple, his lips lingering against her soft skin.

"I will do my utmost, my dearest Mariah," he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity. "I will be your rock, your support, and your safe haven. I will help you heal, and I will do everything I can to show you how deserving of love and happiness you are."Mariah's breath hitches as he kisses her forehead , and she gently look up into his eyes and this time, she keeps eye contact , light sepia clashing with dark bistre. our baby girl is slowly opening up.Mattheo's heart skips a beat as he looks into her eyes. He sees the raw vulnerability, the flicker of fire and defiance deep within. His gaze darkens, his own emotions swirling with desire and protectiveness.

"You're captivating, you know that?" he murmurs, his voice huskier than before. "The way you look at me, with a mix of defiance and vulnerability… it's intoxicating."Maria's light sepia eyes widen slightly as a small Hugh of blush scatters across her face.Mattheo notices the subtle blush that blossoms across her cheeks, and a satisfied smirk curves his lips.

"Look at that," he murmurs, his voice a velvety rumble. "You're not immune to compliments, it seems. You blush so prettily, my dearest Mariah."Mariah's blush deepens, her cheeks turning a vibrant shade of red. She quickly averts her gaze, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

"I… I don't usually respond like this," she mutters, her voice soft and bashful. "I don't know why… it's just… different with you."Mattheo's smirk widens into a genuine smile at her words. He gently guides her chin with a finger, tilting her face up so she's looking at him once again.

"It's different with me because there's something special between us," he murmurs, his voice tender yet possessive. "You feel it too, don't you? This connection that draws us together, this chemistry that sparks every time we're near each other."

" your making me wet." she says quietly as his arms are still wrapped around her waist.Mattheo's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at her blunt confession, and his eyes darken with a surge of desire.

"Is that so, my dearest Mariah?" he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "So responsive to my touch, my words, my presence. I do enjoy the effect I have on you."

His arms tighten around her waist, holding her flush against him, his body responding to her admission.In response she tilts her head confused with furrowed brows." I- what?"Mattheo chuckles at her innocent confusion, his arms still holding her tightly.

"Darling, I believe you said I was making you… wet," he whispers, his voice low and teasing. "As in, affecting you physically, stirring arousal within you."" what- I- h.uh" she tumbles her words shocked and flustered as her face goes darker red, " I- I- I meant that because, I- because you are wet from the the pond you are making me wet with -I the hug, my clothes are now damp" she rambles flustered. You dirty bitches I know u thought dirty.Mattheo's smirk widens as he watches her stumble over her words, clearly flustered and embarrassed by her earlier confession. He finds her flustered state endearing and endearing.

"I see," he replies, his voice still teasing but softer now. "So you meant I was making your clothes wet, not… something else."

He chuckles as he takes in her flustered expression, enjoying the effect he has on her." I-i what else would be wet?" she asks baffled.Mattheo's smirk grows even wider as he sees her innocent confusion. He steps closer, his body pressing against hers, his voice dropping to a deep, seductive whisper.

"My dearest, darling Mariah," he murmurs, his tone dripping with desire, "There are many things that could be wet, depending on the… situation."

" like what? my hair?"Mattheo can't help but laugh softly at her innocent response. He finds her naivety endearing and endearing.

"Yes, my darling, your hair could be wet," he replies, his voice still teasing. "But there are other things that could be wet as well."

He steps closer, his body pressing even more against hers, his breath warm against her ear. "Like your skin… your lips… certain places on your body that react to my touch."Mariah's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red at his words, her body reacting to the proximity of his, despite the layers of wet clothing between them.

"I- I don't know what you mean," she whispers, her voice shaky and unsure. "Places that react to your touch?"Mattheo's smirk turns into a wicked grin as he watches her squirm, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on her. He leans forward, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice a low, heated whisper.

"You know exactly what I mean, my darling," he whispers, his words sending a shiver down her spine. "Your body has a way of responding to my touch, to my presence. Can you feel it, dearest Mariah? The way your heart races, your breath quickens, your skin tingles at my touch?"

" the butterflies?" she whispers looking up at him with wide eyes.Mattheo's expression softens at her genuine curiosity, her wide-eyed innocence stirring something within him. He gently cups her face, his touch tender yet possessive.

"Yes, dearest Mariah," he whispers, his voice filled with affection. "Those flutterings in your stomach, the excitement, the anticipation, the desire… those are the butterflies. They appear when there's a connection, a chemistry, a spark between two people."He leans down, his gaze locked on hers, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "And you and I, my dearest, have an intense connection. One that generates a swarm of butterflies every time we're near each other. Can you feel them, darling?"she nods flustered. " what, do I do, with them?" she whispers.

Mattheo smiles at her innocent curiosity, his gaze filled with affection and desire. He gently brushes his thumb against her cheek, relishing the soft feel of her skin.

"You cherish them, my dearest. You embrace them, this beautiful feeling of anticipation and desire. You give in to the sensations they bring, to the way they make your heart race and your body yearn."she listens to every word he says with a flustered face but something in her eyes she doesn't know she's showing…desire..the strong desire she feels is knew, and unknown territory.

Mattheo studies her expression, noticing the slight shift in her eyes. He sees the desire there, hidden behind the flustered innocence. It stirs something within him, a deep need to awaken her to what she's been holding back.He leans in closer, his voice a soft, sensual whisper. "Dearest Mariah, can you feel the change within you, darling? The way your body reacts, the way your mind is consumed with thoughts and sensations that you never knew existed? It's intoxicating, isn't it?"His gaze remains fixed on her, his body pressing against hers, their chests barely touching. "You want to explore these feelings, don't you? To let go of your inhibitions and embrace the desire that's been awakened within you."

Mariah's breath hitches at his words, the intensity in his gaze and the proximity of his body stirring something deep inside her. She feels vulnerable, exposed, but also strangely alive. She's never felt like this before, consumed by this raw mix of desire and uncertainty.

"Y-yes," she whispers, her voice trembling. "I do want to explore these feelings. I… I just… don't know how."

[nicolettesdreamworld]

Me when I write Benedict Bridgerton slow-burn fanfic to relax from writing about psychotic vampires but nobody interacts with it.

[baranskini]

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