#danbury's excitement! she loves this pair so much

[polinsated]

+ bonus blurry cuteness

[imthebadguyyy]

the bridgerton blues

pairing : anthony bridgerton x reader

fandom : bridgerton

synopsis : it's the first time after your wedding that anthony sees you sporting the signature bridgerton colour : blue, and it does things to him that he can only express in a much more....physical manner.

warnings : smut, heavy smut and excessive amount of fluff

a/n : i miss my grumpy viscount!!! happy reading :)

anthony huffed impatiently, foot tapping against the marble floor at bridgerton manor.

the season had begun again, and much to his relief, he would only be a spectator this year, having married the love of his life, lady, well, current viscountess y/n, which meant he didn't have to deal with the frills and fancies of the hawk like mama's in the ton, awaiting the right moment to swoop upon him with their daughters.

but by God, you were taking forever to get dressed and come down to leave for lady danbury's ball. beside him, benedict and colin sat, engrossed in a game of chess, while francesca and eloise lounged on the couch in the drawing room, catching up about life.

his mother was with his darling wife, much to his surprise, helping her get ready for a ball. he had been caught off guard when his mother had bustled in, dressed in a powdery blue gown, and had proceeded to shoo him out of the room.

"what exactly is keeping mama and y/n?" colin asked, brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on the chess board.

"if I knew I would tell you brother" anthony mumbled, checking the watch that hung on the golden chain from his waistcoat, smiling as he traced the cover, suddenly hit by a burst of nostalgia, and a surge of fondness for his late father.

he brushed it off when a giggling hyacinth came running down the staircase, leaping into his arms, forcing him to rush to catch her, eyes widening in surprise.

"hyacinth! you must always give me a prior warning or I may not be able to catch you" he chided, tucking a stray curl behind her ear and setting her gently on the ground.

"brother!! wait till you see y/n/n!! she looks like a princess!" his youngest sister exclaimed, almost vibrating with excitement. a shy gregory emerged, blushing a little as he nodded, making the three older bridgerton boys smirk, well aware of his little crush on anthony's wife.

when anthony had first befriended his wife, they had been at a mere age of ten, and anthony had rescued y/n when she had fallen off her horse at a picnic with his family and the cowper's.

ever since then, they had been inseparable, joint at the hip and at the heart.

it was of no surprise to anyone in the ton when finally, ages later, he had announced he was marrying the lady montgomery, or as everyone fondly knew her, "y/n/n"

"why so bashful greg?" benedict jested, watching his youngest brother turn a dark crimson.

"n-nothing" he stuttered out, darting in to see his sisters.

"it's because of y/n! I'm telling you brother, she looks like an absolute angel!" hyacinth chirped in, now bouncing about from step to step, just as the door of Anthony's room creaked open, and the dowager viscountess stepped out.

"she's ready" she smiled warmly at her son's, hurrying in to get her daughters to mark the momentous occasion.

brows furrowed, the eyes of the bridgertons rested upon the long winding staircase, awaiting to see what exactly was this magical outfit that had their mother and sister gushing like birds.

and what anthony saw, made his jaw drop to the very ground.

at the very top, his darling wife came into view, hair in sleek, meticulous curls, perfectly cast up in an intricate updo, adorned with pearls, framing her face with the delicate curls. her makeup was subtle, emphasizing her flowing complexion with a touch of rosy blush and wine coloured lips.

she adorned a pearl necklace and matching earrings, gifted to her by anthony himself, adding a timeless elegance to her stature.

but what really caught everyones attention was the dress that she wore, more specifically, the colour of the dress she wore.

a rich dark blue silk gown, carefully tailored, hugged her frame, showcasing the intricate details that add to its allure. the bodice, adorned with delicate embroidery, depicting subtle butterfly motifs that caught the light as the she moved down the stairs. the neckline gracefully framed her collarbone, delicate lace butterflies attached to the neckline,while the sleeves tapered down to her wrists, showcasing more of the exquisite lacework that adorned her body.

the skirt of the gown was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, flowing generously in layers of silk that rustled with each step. the deep, rich hue of the fabric evoked a sense of opulence, reminiscent of midnight skies. as she walked down, the silk caught the light, casting a mesmerizing play of shadows and highlights.

the dress matched anthony's waistcoat perfectly, and the sight was enough to make the viscount choke over nothing.

as he saw his wife adorned in the resplendent dress for the first time, his eyes widened with genuine admiration.

a hushed gasp escaped his parted lips as he took in the sight before him.

his wife, cloaked in the elegance of the dark blue gown, the bridgerton blues appeared to be like a living portrait of timeless beauty.

a warm smile formed on his lips, expressing both surprise and deep appreciation for the grace and sophistication she was emanating.

"my darling" he murmured as he swept forward, extending his arm to welcome you into them.

smiling sweetly at the bridgerton clan, you floated down, linking your arm with anthony's.

"sister, you look utterly perfect in blue!" benedict exclaimed, pressing a delicate kiss to your hand, as violet fondly caressed your cheek.

"doesn't she look like a princess brother?!" hyacinth squealed, looking excitedly at anthony. "just like one out of the fairytales" he said, looking at you with nothing but admiration and love and fondness.

"you really do look utterly regal" colin said, flashing a warm smile at you. eloise and francesca came upto you, with even eloise admitting that the dress you were wearing was nothing short of a work of art, while francesca gushed over how the silhouette was so perfect for you.

"alright, we must leave if we want to reach lady danbury's ball on time!" violet said, clapping her hands, leading her children out to where the carriages awaited.

"wait behind for just a second my love" anthony whispered into your ear, as he walked up to his valet to whisper something into his ear.

slowly, the other bridgertons departed, after you promised them to join them very soon, ignoring the smirks and nudges colin and benedict sent your way.

anthony pulled you into his study, hand gently caressing your waist, feeling the rich silk in his hands, the other hand gently reaching for your chin, lifting it to look into your eyes.

"you look utterly divine my beloved" he whispered fingers gently fondling your face, eyes absorbing every detail of your face, not that he hadn't already memorised it.

"thank you my dear" you whispered back, hands settling on his broad shoulders, taking in his waistcoat as well, the dark blue velvet clinging to every rippling muscle in his body, brass buttons complementing the coat.

"i always knew you'd look stunning in bridgerton blue but....it seems as though the bridgerton blue was crafted for you" he murmured, tightening his grip on your waist, "so stunning that infact, i do not feel the need to leave for lady danbury's ball, for I'd much rather stay here with my breathtakingly beautiful wife" he murmured again, lips ghosting over your own as his hands squeezed your waist, drawing you flush against his body.

"my lord, we cannot... we must be present at the first ball of the season" you lamely protested, heart hammering against your chest as the intoxicating scent of his musky, woodsy cologne filled your nostrils.

anthony dropped his lips to your neck, lips brushing a feather soft kiss to the sensitive skin, drawing a gasp from you.

"what if we do not go? what if we just stay here and...i worship my wife in the way she deserves? like the goddess she is?" he asked, like gently pressing kisses down to your collarbone, still as light as a feather, just enough to ignite something feral in you, but also enough to keep you wanting more.

"my lord it's the first ball of the season, and we have to-"

you were cut off by anthony's lips pressing against yours.

they were soft and plush against yours, pressing perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle, initiating a warm glow in the pit of your tummy.

as your lips met, the sensation was like a feather's gentle caress — soft, fleeting, and subtly warm. it feels like a delicate dance, a tender exploration that sparked a gentle flutter within you. the touch was akin to the brush of downy feathers, teasing and inviting, as if he was testing the waters of intimacy.

yet, as the moment unfolded, a magnetic pull takes hold, drawing you deeper into the realm of passion. the softness transforms, gradually intensifying into a fiery connection. the initial delicacy gave way to a fervent exchange, each kiss building upon the other with a growing hunger.

your lips, once feather-light, were now engaged in a rhythmic and passionate dance. the subtle warmth amplified into a blazing fire, and what began as a gentle exploration evolved into a fervent expression of desire.

the world around you faded and in that heightened connection, every kiss becomes an electric charge, a testament to the undeniable chemistry between your two souls entwined in the artistry of passion.

anthony's hands ran rampant on your body, clutching every part of your body through the silk dress, yet taking care to not scrunch the silk in anyway.

"you have no idea what you do me darling" he growled against your lips, drawing back for just a moment to watch your chest heave and eyes glaze over, hands clutching his coat and cravat so tight he feared you would rip it off.

"every breath you take, every word you speak, the very sound of your melodious voice and the very beat of your heart, all allure me to you, draw me to you like a moth to a flame" he continued, his own heart hammering against his chest.

his chest rose and fell with every word, eyes ablaze with burning passion. "every second of every day, i crave you, i long for you, i need you, and it drives me feral. but the sight of you in my colour makes me want to rip off that very dress off your body, claiming you as mine in more ways than one" he growled, hands scrunching the material on your behind.

"anthony..i crave you every second of the day as well. i need you" you whispered, a soft whimper slipping past your lips.

"hush my sweet darling" he said, sending you a saccharine sweet smile.

then, much to your chagrin, he took his hands off your waist, fixing the material and fixing his own coat.

"now, we must hasten to lady danbury's" he smirked" and you groaned, a painful throbbing between your legs becoming more prominent.

"but my lord-" you protested, only to be cut off by another searing kiss. he kissed you deep and long, and then drew back, pushing a stray curl on your forehead back behind your ear.

"our family awaits dearest" he smiled, and gently led you out to the hall.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the grand ballroom at lady danbury's unfolded into a dazzling spectacle as it embraced the opulence of a gold and maroon theme. golden hues enveloped the space, casting a warm, regal glow. glittering chandeliers, adorned with intricate gold details, hung from the ceiling, their crystals refracting light in a dance of elegance.

luxurious maroon fabrics draped the walls, creating a sumptuous backdrop that added depth to the golden ambiance. tables adorned with golden tablecloths and maroon accents contributed to the harmonious blend of colors. golden candle holders flickered with the soft glow of candles, casting a gentle radiance on the rich maroon floral centerpieces.

the women's dresses shimmered with embellishments, and the men's attire featured accents, creating a visual symphony of sophistication, into which you walked with anthony, arms interlaced, as you bowed before queen charlotte, who had taken quite a liking to you.

"it's lovely to see the bridgertons led by a couple as magnanimous as you" she bestowed a rare compliment, bringing a hot flush to your cheeks and even to anthony's pale visage. "but now we anxiously await the news of a young bridgerton" she said pointedly, and you kept your eyes low, trying to ignore the heat blooming in your cheek.

around you, guests were engaged in a dance, the dance floor became a stage for a waltz of colors, with the many colours and tones reflecting in the mirrored walls. the orchestra, bathed in the warm ambiance, played melodies that echoed the richness of the color palette.

you noticed simon and daphne dancing, looking fondly at each other, and saw colin sharing a dance with young penelope featherington, which made you smile, always having harbored a soft spot for the girl.

you spotted eloise by the food table, with francesca, both enjoying the strawberries that were being served. benedict seemed engrossed in exploring the rich collection of paintings in the hall, and was surrounded by a group of friends.

anthony led you over to his sisters, a soft kiss to your wrist a promise to be back in a moment lingering on his lips, as he was dragged off by countless lords for a drink and a conversation about the next round of a hunt they were engaging in.

as eloise began to speak about the many cruelties of lady featherington, you spotted cressida cowper scowling over at the two of you, dressed in a pink so bright you felt momentarily blinded. she shot a contemptuous look at you, scoffing at your gown and sharing a laugh with lady cowper, that had your eyebrow creasing with insecurity.

much to your horror, she began to march over to you, along with her mother and lady featherington, much to your dismay. you searched desperately for your mother-in-law, but found her engrossed in conversation with the queen.

"my my, if it isn't the happy bridgertons" cressida sniped, flashing you a tight lipped smile. "hello miss cowper" you smiled, ignoring the anxiety bubbling in your tummy.

"cressida" eloise said coldly, linking her arm with yours. she was well aware of the contemptuous rumours she had spread about you when you had begun courting anthony and had made it her mission to protect you from her.

"what a rather unusual colour for you dear" lady cowper commented, eyes trailing down your body in disdain.

"it gives you the impression of being a little washed out" she stated, opening her fan to hide her smirk.

you ignored the tear that sprang to your eyes as she continued to comment, on the fall of the dress, the shape of the silhouette and the way your jewellery was far too showy.

you could feel eloise glowering beside you but silently begged her to keep calm, not wanting to lose her calm in front of everyone.

to your surprise, a familiar baritone cut in, a nd a strong arm wrapped around your midriff and waist.

your husband appeared beside you, a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"i see why you might think that, lady cowper, for all you can pull off is that rather obnoxious shade of viscous pink, and while i understand your envy at my wife's ability to outshine everyone else here in any colour she chooses, i must remind you are speaking to the viscountess bridgerton, and hence must adhere to the degree respect she commands" he stated coolly, hand gripping your waist so tight you were sure it would leave marks.

stunned speechless, the cowper's backed away, egos more than bruised and enraged , subject to sniggers and chuckles from the other lords and ladies in the room. your brother walked to anthony from across the hall, patting him on the back and whispering a "good man" to him as he hugged you, and eloise drew anthony into a hug as well.

anthony led the two of you over to his mama, who couldn't hide a smile herself at the love her son had for his wife, so reminiscent of the way their father had loved her.

"I am sorry if I caused humiliation to your name mama, but I cannot and will not let anyone talk to my wife that way" he said firmly, only to be cut off by his mother.

"I believe everyone here has been waiting to say that to miss cowper since the beginning of time, my darling, so take your wife and go home. you have done your job and proved your love and passion and told everyone that your relationship rhymes true" she said, drawing you into a warm hug and bidding you goodbye.

the carriage ride home was silent as your held anthony's hand tight, his thumb tracing patterns over the gloves you were donning, a pearly white to match your jewels.

"thank you my love" you whispered to him, eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

"my darling, i love you, all of you. please do not ever belittle yourself, because your beauty is awe worthy" he said, eyes contorted as if he was in pain at the thought of you being in pain.

"I'll try my best not to" you whispered against, leaning forward to press your foreheads together. and you stayed like that till bridgerton manor came into view.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

frenzied kisses were pressed against your lips as anthony lifted you into his arms, earning a singular gasp from your lips. his hands, one wrapped tightly under your bottom and the other around your back was strong, as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he led you upstairs, ignoring the scurrying valet and maids and your ladies in waiting as he made it to your shared bedroom.

he dropped you gently on the bed, towering above you, hands shoving the material of your dress up. his hands crept along your thighs stealthily, finding the hooks of your stockings to your thigh garter, slowly dragging it down, exposing your bare skin to him, suppressing a groan at the soft skin.

to his surprise you reached up and grabbed him by the cravat, untying it and pulling him down to meet your lips. you kissed him roughly, a frenzied battle, with teeth and tongue clashing as he shrugged off his waist coat and began to unbutton his shirt, watching as you removed your jewellery and kept in on the table beside his bed.

his hands reached for your dress, carefully untying the many laces and unbuttoning the many buttons on your dress, watching as your bosom heaved in the corset wore.

deft fingers unhooked the corset without a struggle, and you moaned when the cold air hit your nipples, making them harden, as you pushed your chest out towards him.

anthony growled, the sound reverberating in his throat as he reached down to unbutton his tan pants, leaving him in just his underwear. his lips attacked your neck, biting into the delicate flesh and pressing kiss after kiss, sucking deep marks and hickies that were sure to stay for days after.

you raked your nails up and down his neck, stroking the skin there and raking your hands upto his hair, gently scratching his scalp as he trailed kisses down to your breasts.

his mouth enveloped your nipple in his mouth, tongue flicking and swirling around the sensitive nub.

he continued his ministrations, taking only a moment to move his mouth to your other breast and leaving lovebites on the skin.

he settled in between your thoughts, hips gently grinding into yours, as he licked and sucked to his heart’s desire, attempting to alleviate the growing tent in his pants.

you were beginning to pant, and he continued to pinch and stroke your nipple. his tongue wreaked havoc on one while his fingers gently tugged on the other. anthony could not wait any longer, the pain of the straining in his pants making him more loopy than he would admit, and he pulled away from your breast, a string of saliva from his lips to your breast.

he came back up to your mouth, kissing you with desperation. "i adore you" he painted above you, before kissing down your tummy to your thighs.

he stopped at the junction between your thighs, inhaling the musk of your scent.  

he reached for the cotton underwear you had on, gently pulling it down, and pushing your thighs apart, and a wave of cold air floated across your inner thighs, so open and exposed now.

anthony began to press hot, open mouthed kisses to the bare expanse of your thighs, stopping just below your pussy lips each time.

mere moments later, you felt an entirely new sensation— anthony's wet, warm tongue sliding through your folds. a cry of pleasure ripped from your throat, as you looked down at anthony, who had crawled between your legs with his tongue buried at the apex of your thighs.

your slick dripped down your pussy lips, costing them in your honey, and anthony licked it all up as if it was nectar and ambrosia, lowering his face to lick a long strip through your entire slit, before tilting his face even deeper into your pussy, swirling around up to your engorged clit and licking all around it and on the top of it.

the action had your hips jolting as he sucked on the nub, causing flashes of white to flash before your eyes.

"you taste more delightful than i could ever have imagined" he breathed licking the sour-sweet liquid off his lips. "my own precious honey pot" he cooed, making you flush again and your body heated up.

he sucked harder on your clit, fingers slipping into your slit to slide up and down, each stroking made your hips flail wildly.

“you taste so sweet” he murmurs, and the brush of his breath sears against your skin. the low rumbling of his voice, so characteristic of him, are dripped in hunger and arousal, the heat spreading under your skin and threatening to explode like a supernova.

"i have longed to have you squirming on my tongue my love. i will have you screaming my name until your lips know no other" he promised.

with a ravenous look at your heaving form, anthony lowered his mouth to your throbbing center again and licked a bold stripe up your clit, the sensitive bud jolting in shock and you scream in pleasure,

the ever composed lord bridgerton moans against your cunt when you tug his hair, hands holding down your hips as he watches you squirm. then anthony rolls your clit with his teeth and you come apart with a scream, hands gripping onto his hair for dear life.

you come, cunt clenching down, spasming around his tongue where he has you stretched open. everything else disappears for a moment, your body weightless with pure unadulterated bliss.

anthony shifts so he is in between your legs again, watching the fluttering of your pussy as you clench around nothing. your eyes are trained on his hips and he feels a surge of pride.

his cock was one not only of great size but of greater girth and greater skill, and he adored nothing more than watching your eyes become as large as saucers as you looked at his poor cock straining again as it had been ever since he saw you in his signature colour.

trained hands guided his cock to your entrance, tapping against it for a few seconds before he dragged the tip through your slick, making your body shudder at the stimulation. and then, he pressed a kiss to your neck, hips slamming against yours.

the first thrust was deep and claiming,and you cried out at the perfect stretch of him in your pussy.

you could barely think straight, hands digging into his back and nails sinking into his skin.

"so fucking perfect,” he murmured into your ear, rasped and breathless as he nipped on your ear. "'feel so good wrapped around my cock. so wet and warm for me my sweet sweet beloved. fuck, you're so tight right now. squeezing me so well, you love my cock, do you not my angel?"

"yes yes i love you and your cock" you changed as a prayer, eyes bashful at the use of the dirty word. "look at how your cunt clenches around me" he groaned, head dipping into the crook of your neck as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly.

you could hear the headboard banging against the wall as the pace of anthony's thrusts had your body sliding against the silken sheets.

and then he stopped

he stayed there, buried inside you to the hilt, and his cock twitched excitedly inside you. you watched the way he gripped the bedsheets tightly with his fingers until they went hite. it sent heat and pleasure into the pit of your stomach and you were sure you are going to burn. it was far too good, far too much, brimming on the edge of being overwhelming. 

there’s no warning as he pulled out, leaving his pulsing tip in, and then he thrusted all the way back inside, in one long and slick stroke back inside you, deep and rough. his cock slammed into a spot in you that has you screaming, something absolutely fucking delicious and it steals away your breath and makes you cry out. 

and then he grabs your legs, pushing them up towards your legs as he almost folded you in half, pushing your legs so far apart they almost touched your head, as he moved to his knees for a better angle.

his hips thrusted wildly as he kept fucking you, hand rubbing furiously at your sensitive clit, as you whined and moaned and screamed. he watched as your cunt, pink and perfect fluttered and twitched, and his ears revelled at the sound of the filthy, wet squelching that echoed in the room from your dripping cunt.

he landed a harsh smack to the back of your thigh that had you screaming as he then pressed his tongue to it, sucking a hickey on the spot.

sweat dripped down his forehead and yours, as you began to thrust your hips up to meet his perfect strokes, while feeling like his cock was going to split you apart.

"i want nothing more than to fill you with my seed" he growled, over the sound of your skin slapping together over and over again.

"fill me with your seed my lord. let me have carry your kin" you murmured, and you watched as anthony groaned, hand wrapping around your throat.

"such a minx" he grinned, squeezing and watching your eyes roll back.

without a warning, he flipped you over so you were on top, and his deft hands steadied you at the waist.

then he began to slowly pick your hips up, working you up and down on his cock, slamming you up and down on his cock, until you got the hang of it.

anthony felt himself drooling as he took in the way your tits bounced and you bounced on his cock as you ride him, nails now scratching down his chest as he laid a harsh spank to your ass that had you clenching on his cock harder.

he watched your body desperately ride him for all he was worth, thighs jiggling as they clapped against his own, and he pinched the fat around your waist and belly, teeth nipping at your nipple to increase the stimulation.

"m-my lord! I am going to cum!" you moaned loudly, only to turn to a wail as anthony's fingers unleashed a furious assault on your clit, as he rubbed it up and down and side to side and everywhere, covering his fingers in your slick.

with a scream of his name, you came all over his dick and his tummy, your juices spilling out of you like a fountain, watching as he scooped it up with his fingers to lick it clean.

he slammed your hips down on his even harder as you whined, and you felt his stomach tense and breathing stutter as he came, shooting his load inside you, and finally sinking into the pillow, limp.

panting, you rolled off of him, mind cockdrunk and unable to move. anthony peppered kisses to your skin and kissed the spots where he'd been rough.

"you were phenomenal, my love" he whispered, and to your intrigue, his fingers trialed down to your cunt.

you watched as he gently slid a finger in to your hole, shushing and kissing you as he blocked it with his fingers.

"i cannot have a single drop of me spilling out of you" he murmured and you moaned.

"i adore you", he mumbled, "my dear wife" he concluded.

"and i adore you, my dear husband" you smiled, meeting his lips in a sugar sweet kiss.

who would've known that wearing the bridgerton blue was all it would take for you and anthony to announce to the ton in the next three months that you were expecting the first bridgerton heir?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : I've missed writing for bridgerton so much!! i really hope you enjoy this, and as always likes reblogs comments opinions etc are appreciated!! sending u all love and happiness and remember, my inbox is always open and i love making new friends!! happy reading ☺️♥️

TAGS

bridgerton : @freyathehuntress @urfavnoirette

general : @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM ❤️

[lydiimae]

Jealousy

A.N: OMG I am finally starting this blog. I am so so excited. This is a Benedict Bridgerton fic ofc. The true loml. I'm still debating if I will write only Bridgerton orrrrrr others? I dunno... but for now, here is a lovely, smutty, cutie, Ben fic hehe <3

Warnings: semi-public sex, fingering, vaginal sex, drinking, dirty talk, heavy praise, talk of public heavy petting ;)

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Minors DNI!! 18+

He sighs from beside Eloise, shifting on the picnic blanket for what has to be the millionth time. "Brother, you worry too much about that woman." She mutters with an amused glint in her eye, taking a bite of one of the strawberry tarts the family maids had made for the occasion.

A family picnic was not a rarity during the social season, especially for the Bridgerton's. What was a rarity is that Benedict had invited a woman along, an incredibly important woman at that. Y/N L/N, a daughter of an influential Viscount. The woman he found himself to be head over heels in love with.

"I am not worried. I am merely observing so our brother does not make a fool of himself in front of her." He replies with a huff, taking a sip from his flask before tucking it back into his pocket.

You were merely speaking with his brother. His happily married older brother. He has no reason to be jealous, really, but something in him still tugs painfully at the sight of you speaking to another man. It is only when Kate comes to steal her husband away that you scootch back over to him, a bright smile on your face.

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

You move back over to Benedict and look up at his cute pouty expression, smiling at the warmth that blooms in your chest as a result.

You wished to get to know his family before the inevitable happens. Marriage. You know, as well as he does, that you were both going to tie the knot as soon as it was acceptable to do so. You also know that he would scoop you up and marry you tomorrow if he had his way.

At the very first ball of the season, Lady Danbury insisted that she had someone for you to meet. Someone who enjoyed painting just as much as you did. So, she took your arm and led you away from your father to the Bridgerton family. You were confused, at first, when the already happily married Viscount, Anthony, turned to greet you. And then, as if the sea was parting, he appeared. A crooked grin on his face as he moved to see you. Benedict Bridgerton, although he is a second son, stole your heart as soon as you saw him.

From then on you waited with bated breath for every dance you would share, dreamt of him in your bedroom when you got home, and thought of nothing but him in between. You shared stolen glances at every event and even snuck off to any hidden corner or garden you could find for breathless kisses and entirely impolite words that sent your mind into a whirlwind you could not explain.

Soon enough, he started inviting you on promanades and even sooner he wished for you to dine with his family. Get to know his life outside of the stuffy ballroom, to which you found yourself falling even deeper in love than you could've ever imagined.

"You're pouting, Ben." You hum, taking a sip of your lemonade with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Indeed. Perhaps if you were not so caught up with my brother I would not have a reason to pout, hm?" He returns, moving to take another sip from his flask.

He was jealous? Of his married brother? You sigh and move your hand over his, shaking your head slightly. You hand him a glass of lemonade. If he truly is jealous, the last thing he needs is whiskey.

"If you truly wish to hear what we were talking about, I shall tell you." You return as he takes a sip of the lemonade you gave him. He moves his hand over yours, just out of sight of his family. A possessive gesture that makes your heart flutter.

"Yes, in fact, do enlighten me." He grumbles with a sigh. "His wife, Benedict. He was talking about his lovely wife, which if you have forgotten, happens to be my dear friend." You sigh, running your thumb over his knuckles.

He looks over at you, his green eyes sweeping down to your lips, then your chest, before finally looking back up. "I care not of what you were speaking about, I should like you to speak with me when it is I who invited you." He practically growls, the tone of his voice making the place between your legs heat up and dampen instantly. A feeling that only happened with him, something he had explained as both desire and arousal.

"You know that I-" You begin, but are cut off by him pulling you to your feet. The glasses of lemonade are now completely forgotten. "Mother, I should like to promenade with Lady Y/N." He fibs.

What he would really like to do is rip the skirt of your dress open, spread your legs wide, and plunge his cock so deep inside of your soaked cunt that you forget everything else. He wants to paint your insides with his seed right here, in front of the whole ton, so that every man can get a glimpse of who you truly belong to.

"Of course, dear. We shall not keep you." Violet replies with a smile before delving back into conversation with Eloise, who also looks up with a confused expression but quickly rolls her eyes and continues to speak to her mother.

You shoot him a questioning look to which he just raises an eyebrow and offers his arm. You take it and he begins to lead you away from the picnic canopies that many families have set up to dine under.

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

"Where are we going?" You question after a moment, realizing that you are not following the path around the lake but rather the path to the carriages.

He stops and tugs you behind a tree, pushing you up against the trunk. The bark bites into the little exposed skin the back of your dress grants you and your cunt flutters when you see his expression.

Desire is different for men, he taught you. You can see it in the way his trousers tighten at the front and in the way his eyes haze over. His hands move to your waist and he bends down, pressing kisses all the way up your neck until he reaches your ear.

"Agree to marry me and I shall show you." He whispers, biting the soft flesh beneath your ear causing you to shiver and whine. He grins and licks over the tender skin, soothing the sting.

"You already know very well that I would say yes to any proposal you give me." You breathe, leaning your head back as your eyes flutter shut. His hand skates over your stomach, running up the smooth fabric of your dress until he meets your breast. He cups one and swipes his thumb over your hardened nipple through the fabric.

He pulls away, swiping the saliva off his bottom lip with his thumb before picking you up. You squeal and he chuckles, paying the driver of his carriage off before tucking you inside. He closes the door and the curtains on the window, darkness enclosing the both of you.

"Benedict." You whisper as he lays you back on the velvety bench. "Hush, my love. I shall not do anything before asking I swear it." The title makes your heart almost burst out of your chest. He dips down once more, pressing his lips to yours briefly.

You pull him back down before he gets very far, chasing one of those open-mouthed kisses he gave you at the last ball. He groans, his tongue swiping over yours. He grins over your lips at the sound that escapes, moving his hands to yours where they rest on his chest before breaking the kiss.

"Ben please." You whine, wanting him to continue so desperately. He only smiles, taking off your gloves. "You must have patience, my sweet girl. I am going to ravish you in due time." He assures, pressing soft kisses from your palm all the way up to your shoulder as he takes off his gloves as well.

He reaches your neck, to which he takes a deep breath. Taking in your scent of lavender and citrus, making him groan as it always does. "Do you remember when I taught you to ride my thigh?" He whispers, running his tongue down to your collarbone, nipping the skin.

The memory makes you flood your underwear. You remember well, how could you not? He had lead you to the garden at one of Lady Danbury's balls and sat you down on his lap on the edge of the fountain. He hiked up your skirt and led your hips back and forth until something inside of you snapped so hard you saw stars and stained his trousers. That is where he taught you about his arousal, about yours.

"Yes." You breathe, your eyes fluttering shut as one of his hands moves under your skirt. His slender fingers skating teasingly up your thigh. "Good girl." He praises. He cups your cunt without warning and you cry out, your hips canting.

"Fuck. You are absolutely drenched." He whispers, relishing in the moans he draws from your body just from keeping a hand over your cunt. "And I told you about sex, do you remember that darling?" He murmurs, watching your eyes flutter.

He slowly pushes your skirt up so he can slide off your panties. He tucks them into his pocket, smiling to himself. "Yesss." You moan as the air hits your bare sex. "You told me it happens when we get married." You whisper between whines as his hand comes back, his fingers curling into your pubic hair.

"Such a good listener. So good for me." He praises, sliding two of his fingers along your drenched slit before finding your clit with expert touch. He rubs a slow circle on your button and you moan loudly, throwing your head back. "Now, when a man has honor he waits to take a woman's innocence. But my honor disappeared when I saw you with my brother," You try and protest but he pinches your clit and you cry out before you can get so much as a whisper out.

"So I will take you now. In this damn carriage." He growls, moving his free hand to your hips to hold you down. You whine when his fingers move down. "Fuck you are perfect," He breathes. "I'm going to slide one of my fingers inside now, darling, alright?" He murmurs, the switch from possessive to sweet sending your mind reeling. So overwhelmed, so mindless Just how he likes you.

You nod tentatively, your heart rate spiking which he picks up on. He shifts so he is over you, and kisses the crown of your head. "I'll go slow, hm? Nice and slow. All you need to do is pat my arm twice and I'll stop." He assures, calming your heart. You nod and nuzzle his neck.

He slowly plunges a long finger into your weeping cunt and you whine at the invasion. "Good girl, fuck you are so tight." You gasp and writhe as he curls his finger, the feeling sending a shock straight to your clit. He slowly adds another finger and you moan loudly, your eyes rolling back.

"Ben... so good. Feels...." You cry out when his fingers curl into a spot that sends waves of pleasure through you. He grins and begins to rock his fingers, drawing heavenly noises from your soaked cunt. The carriage filled with the sound of your moans and the squelching of your pussy.

He licks a stripe up your neck, beginning to suck as he rocks his fingers. You curl a hand in his thick curls and tug, your hips desperately trying to move against the palm of his hand.

He kisses your jaw, and then your chin, before finally capturing your lips. His tongue immediately sliding past your swollen lips and tangling with yours. You moan into his mouth as his thumb presses down on your swollen clit, moving clockwise as he rocks his fingers into your body.

He breaks the kiss and pulls out his fingers, much to your dismay, before unbuttoning his trousers. "Benedict... why did you stop? It felt so very nice..." You whine, grinding on nothing to try and gain some sort of feeling.

He groans at the sight, bending down and pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. "My harlot of a fiancee. So needy for something she does not even know the half of." He praises as he slowly frees his cock, the sight along with his filthy words making you gasp.

He pulls back and strokes himself with the help of your delicious wetness, before looking back at your sweet face. All flushed and wide-eyed. He moves his free hand to your chin, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

"It will not fit, Benny." You whisper, suddenly frightened. His eyes soften and he moves down pressing a swift kiss to your lips. "It will, my love. We will go slow, I promise. Remember what I told you, two pats on my arm and we will stop." He hums, peppering your face with kisses which causes you to giggle and calm a bit. "Perhaps one pat for apprehension, hm?" He murmurs with a smile, pulling back. You nod.

"Good girl." He hums. He leans in and runs his length through your soaked folds drawing moans from the both of you. "Fuck. God, I love you." He grunts and you smile, draping your arms over your eyes to cover your blush. "I love you too, Benedict." You whisper back.

He slowly pushes into your body, throwing his head back at how tight your pretty pussy is. You cry out at the invasion, your hands shooting down to grasp at the edges of the carriage bench. The feeling is a strange mix of pain and something different. A tart taste on your tongue paired with a tingly feeling in your already hot womb. "Fucking hell." He groans before tucking his face in the crook of your neck, stopping halfway so you can adjust.

You whine and wrap your arms around his neck after a moment. "P-Please..... more. I need more, Benedict." You gasp after the pain subsides. God, he almost comes right there. He wants you like this all the time, mindless for his cock. Begging him to fuck you.

"Good fucking girl, Y/N." He grunts before bottoming out inside of you. You moan and toss your head back into the seat cushion and he groans at the feeling. "You feel so good, my love. So ripe, so wet. God, so very tight just for me." He praises.

He begins to move slowly, the slap of thighs meeting thighs filling the carriage. The feeling is so foreign but fuck you never want it to stop. Moans and whines slip past your lips before you can even begin to try and stop them, and you cry out as he speeds up. The noises he is drawing from your body would embarrass you if you didn't adore the way he feels inside of you to the point that you can think of nothing else. You wish to be like this as much as you can, full to the brim with his cock.

"Benedict." You moan and he stalls, gritting his teeth. "Never ever stop moaning my name, you vixen. God, I am a lucky man. The luckiest man in the world." He praises you as he begins to slam into you.

You grip his coat so hard you are surprised the velvety fabric hasn't torn. You cry out when his thumb finds your clit, the feeling sending you up to the clouds. "Come for me, my love." He grunts from above you with a slight slap on your thigh. That sends you over, your vision going white as you scream his name.

He thrusts a few more times before pulling out and pumping himself. He releases with a groan onto your stocking-covered thigh before collapsing on top of you.

After a moment he lifts his head to look at you, brushing your fallen hair out of your face. You smile, almost drunkenly, as you look at him. "That was heavenly." You whisper and he smirks, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Just wait until we are married. I cannot wait to fill you with my seed and see you plump with my child." He murmurs. resting his head back on your shoulder. Your hand absentmindedly finds his hair, running through his messy curls.

"We have to go back." You whisper to which he shakes his head. "Not yet. I paid off the driver. We have as much time to rest as we wish, dearest." He hums, his eyes closed. You grin and close yours as well, slowly dozing off with him.

You are the luckiest woman in the world.

[michwritesstuff]

Enchanting to Meet You (Bridgerton: Benedict Bridgerton)

pairing: female reader (she/her) x Benedict Bridgerton

summary: In your debut social season in London, you can’t help but be absolutely enchanted by a certain gentleman. You wouldn’t be lucky enough to find a true love match after one ball…right?

notes/warnings: no warnings, just all fluff! does this song not scream dancing with benedict for the first time! stolen glances and witty remarks! like hello?

word count: 1.3k

The carriage was moving impossibly slow.

Trees passing by at a snail’s pace as you watched the light of your aunt’s estate grow closer in the distance.

The desire to run to your bedroom and bathe in the excitement of the night intensifying as each moment passed.

“A lovely opening ball, was it not y/n?”

You snapped your head from leaning on the window to where your mother and aunt sat across from you.

“Yes, quite lovely indeed,” you remarked.

You had grown up coming to your aunt’s estate in the summers.

As a child, you remembered begging your mother to take you to London for the social season as your older sisters were being presented to society.

You wondered if your sisters ever had a night as magical as you did tonight.

And it was all because of him.

Benedict Bridgerton.

You liked the name Benedict; you had never met another one before.

The blood rushed to your cheeks, so scarlet, at the memory of dancing the night away with him.

“Oh y/n, you are looking quite ill. You have had such a busy night; it would do you well to get a good night’s sleep and think on the many gentlemen who will call on you tomorrow.”

You could not help but lay awake that night, the moonlight shining through the curtains, as you thought about the entire night. Replaying it in its entirety, from start to finish.

The conversation was effortless, no lulls or awkward pauses you experienced with others.

What would you do if he had not called upon you the next day?

Would you be forced to entertain the other prospects in hope of waiting and biding time for his affection.

Was there someone else in the picture?

Why had you not thought to ask his intentions?

Was the chemistry enough to guide you through this season?

Your endless thoughts were torture.

Finally dozing off, the moonlight soon disappeared as the darkness of the night sky was replaced by the bright and glistening rays of the sun.

A subtle knock came from the other side of the door, your lady maid calling out.

“Miss Y/N, we must start getting you ready.”

With one final powdering of your nose, you made your way towards the parlor room.

As you walked in you spotted Benedict sitting on the settee near the large portrait of your family.

He stood up immediately once he noticed your presence.

As your eyes met the memories of the night before came flooding back.

******

You stood with your mother and aunt at the edge of the dance floor, running your hands down your dress, doing your best to smooth out the ruffles from where you sat.

“Miss y/l/n, what a pleasure to have you join us this season.”

“Thank you, Lady Danbury,” you smiled politely.

“Let us hope that she is as lucky as her sisters in finding a great companion,” your mother said.

You nodded your head as you took in the scene around you.

Girls and their mamas circling like vultures, while still maintaining the perfect amount of poise to be considered elegant and respectful.

It was much more overwhelming than you were anticipating.

 The magic of what you imagined as a little girl was slowly fading the more you felt the pressure of finding a husband by the end of the season.

If forcing laughter and faking smiles is what it took to get through the night, then so be it.

You had evaded a few gentlemen by writing down the name of poets on your dance card, smiling shyly as you quickly waved the ‘full’ dance card as a polite dismissal.

It was a pity really, you loved to dance.

The small talk and inquiring about your pianoforte on the other hand was quite detestable.

You had just gotten done pity laughing at Lord Hardy’s ‘humble’ comment about his many properties, when above his shoulder your eyes met a couple of cool blue ones across the room.

Your insincerity dropped, curiosity taking over as you excused yourself from Lord Hardy.

The man had done the same with whatever company had previously occupied him, gently patting the man in front of him as he maneuvered his way towards you.

As he approached you bowed your head slightly.

“Miss--?”

“Y/N”

“Miss Y/N, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“I suppose we have not. I have just come to London for the season.”

“Ah, the marriage mart? Believer of love, are we?”

“Are you not?” you challenged back.

“In an artists’ sense, yes. Not in the way that I must bow, and you curtsy while we skate around each for months to appease our families What is it truly to admire a woman? To look at her and feel inspiration? To delight in her beauty, so much so that all your defenses crumble, that you would willingly take on any pain, any burden for her.”

You were shocked by his seemingly earnest words. Perhaps the shallow nature of society was not present in everyone.

“Well, we seem to have that in common Mr.—”

“Bridgerton, but you may call me Benedict.”

“Mr. Benedict Bridgerton, the artist or a poet?” you teased.

“This doesn’t really seem like the company you would choose to surround yourself with,” you remarked.

“Quite true Miss Y/N. I fear I am rather trapped among the duties of my family to attend tonight’s ball. You see, my sister Eloise is in her debut season as well.”

You followed his gaze to where a young lady stood next to an older woman. From afar their relationship was quite clear, a mama instructing her daughter on all the dos and don’ts of the night.

“Might you join me in a dance Miss Y/N?”

You looked down to your dance card, the spots filled with fake names.

Benedict grabbed your wrist, bringing the cards towards him for a closer examination.

He laughed as he looked at the names written, scratching out the last two to write his own.

“I do hope Lord Keats and Lord Wordsworth don’t mind me taking their spots.”

“They’ll live, I hear they have greater things to attend to.”

“Greater than you miss? I have high doubts.”

You took Benedict’s hand as the music began to play.

Your hand felt so right in his, as natural as breathing.

You could not help the fluttering in your heart as he whisked you across the dance floor.

This moment, this is the moment you imagined as a young girl.

The playful conversation, perfectly countering his quick remarks. Is this what it was like to meet someone at your level?

Your insincerity and vacancy from earlier replaced by a fulfilling excitement.

“It seems highly improper to have danced continuously with you Benedict.”

“I suppose it is a bit suggestive, do you regret it?” he asked seriously.

You thought for a long second before you looked at him properly.

“No, I do not regret it. Your company is quite refreshing and enjoyable.”

“Coming from someone with your elegance, I take that as the highest compliment.”

You had spent the rest of the evening walking around with your mother and aunt, engaging in superficial conversations, your eyes constantly peeled for a certain Bridgerton.

Your stolen glances and playful smirks across the ballroom went seemingly unnoticed by most.

However, after a brief encounter with Benedict at the drinks table, you felt the wandering eyes of a young lady wearing a lovely yellow dress.

You smiled sweetly at her before returning to your mother’s side.

******

“Miss Y/N, I hope it is not a surprise for me to have called on you so early this morning?”

“On the contrary, I would have been quite disappointed if you had not.”

“Would you care to join me for a promenade?”

“I would be delighted Mr. Bridgerton.”

check out the rest of my work ⤑ here!

[targaryenluvs]

Infatuation

pairing: simon basset x fem!reader

warnings: darkish simon? a kiss, young reader (16ish!!) pushy and possessive simon, implied fem!reader and poc!reader, not proof read

notes: idk what to do so i just rambled 😭 this is just a two parter i think. and the storyline is a bit scrambled :) WHAT THE HELL IDK WHY I GOT SO MUCH ENERGY TO WRITE THIS BUT HERES ALL THE PARTS IN ONE DAY!!!! hope you enjoyed <3

PART I

Lady Whistledown: Dearest reader, the time has come to place our bets for the upcoming social season. Consider the household of the Baron Featherington. Three misses foisted upon the marriage market like sorrowful sows by their tasteless, tactless, mama.

Far better odds might exist in the household of the widowed Viscountess Bridgerton. A shockingly prolific family, noted for its bounty of perfectly handsome sons and perfectly beautiful daughters.

Or perhaps in the loving household of the Marquess of Anderton, Lord and Lady Y/L/N? With their two eldest sons, known not only for their intelligent selves and gorgeous faces, but for their stunningly bright younger sister, who is not just a pretty face.

Not only are the two families extremely close, but practically family, how very perfect, indeed!

It is only the queen's eye that matters today. A glimmer of displeasure, and a young lady's value plummets to unthinkable depths.

It has been said that, “Of all bitches dead or alive, a scribbling woman is the most canine." If that should be true, then this author would like to show you her teeth.

My name is Lady Whistledown.

You do not know me, and rest assured, you never shall. But be forewarned, dear reader, I certainly know you.

how on earth had you not yet read this?

one of the things you’d looked forward to besides meeting everyone had been the scandal sheets and you’d missed out on receiving one yesterday.

“this woman seems quite powerful. you know how easily words can ruin someone’s image. it’s interesting to see a lone woman hold so much sway in just her writing. i truly do wonder who she is. any guesses?” you asked pen, daphne and el as the three of you waited for your mothers and pens sisters to catch up as you made your way to the park.

eloise smiled, “it has to be a widow! no married woman would have time for this, she’d have an estate to care for and children pulling on her every day. a widow with her own home and responsibilities. perhaps lady danbury?”

you had to giggle at the guess, knowing whistledown herself was right with you. you’d managed to meet penelope at least, so that was one person of your list. lady danbury would be next with her ball tonight, and perhaps simon as well.

“what’s so funny? i haven’t heard a guess from you!” eloise groaned as you smiled, “i have no guesses besides, pen?” penelope’s head shot up straight away from the ground, “what?” “i was going to ask if you had any.” you could see her cheeks flushing, and her breathing quicken at the idea of being caught out.

and as you all walked together through the park, you’d mistakenly enthralled yourself in conversations, going so far as to walk with your back facing others. walking backwards as to face the girls.

“look out!”

before you’d fallen you were caught, by simon.

“i, i am so sorry. i was not looking-” simon smiled, “well that’s obvious no?” he joked as he lifted you up. you straightened your dress out and smiled, “of course. forgive me your grace.” you curtsied, in the presence of the person you’d been most excited to meet, you’d forgotten all about your friends behind.

as they all met him you couldn’t even take your eyes off of him, and neither could he for you. and once lady featherington came around she wasted no time to throw her eldest daughters upon him. the misery in his eyes hurt your soul so you took it upon yourself to rectify the situation.

“your grace!” simon turned towards you, as did everyone else. “yes, lady y/n?” you smiled, “would you like to accompany me, to promenade?” simon tilted his head, pondering your question.

he couldn’t help but be taken aback, usually many girls weren’t so forward. and god were you beautiful. rather than dealing with annoying girls who wanted a title the second they saw him, he could walk with someone he actually found interesting.

“i- would love to.” he smiled as he took a step back, allowing you to walk with him. you could hear the chatter from the girls behind you as well as your mother and violet.

you’d spent so long together, walked for so long your feet ached afterwards. and you didn’t miss the longing stares from other men around, and the women for him.

and even if it had taken so much energy of yours to keep walking, you wouldn’t have given up the chance. everything he said, you replied to. every joke sent laughter rippling through you and you could not help but feel content. he was, even better then the show. and as you got to know him you felt unbelievably happy.

and so did he.

he went home with all his thoughts containing you. he found himself smiling at every memory of his time with you that day. your smiles, your laughter, your beauty, you. and he had no clue why. he’d never been this taken with someone and he found himself struggling with why.

over the season you found yourself taken with him, your family allowed you to attend balls and do as you wish but you were under no obligation to dance or do anything you did not wish to.

yet you found yourself undeniably enthusiastic every time you realised you were going to a ball because you’d see simon. you’d dance, you’d laugh and everything else because he always gave you something to look forwards to, as did you for him, he was truly an amazing friend.

and he was completely besotted with you.

much to not only anthony’s surprise but danbury as well.

and simon was so intent upon being with you.

as much as you liked him you could not help but love how you were. your family was amazing and so happy. you had amazing friends within daphne, penelope and eloise. marriage seemed so far away in your mind and your life was sweet and favourable.

lady trowbridge’s ball was, scandalous, to say the least. you couldn’t believe your eyes when you walked in, half naked dancers spinning around, and quite uptempo music for a woman in mourning.

“lady y/n, may i-” lord wellington was promptly cut off in his endeavour to dance with you by the person you’d been looking for.

“y/n?” simon called out as he made his way to you. “simon! there you are, i was wondering where you’d gone off to.” you smiled at your bestfriend as he made his way to you, nodding in acknowledgement to his friend lord wellington. you thought they were friends at least.

and so did simon, until he saw him coming after you for a dance.

“come along now.” he smiled as you also nodded at the lord, “it was nice to see you my lord.” you curtsied as simon dragged you away.

“oh my god, i thought he would never leave! he tries to dance with me every single ball yet he doesn’t take notice of my indifference towards him!” you snorted as simon laughed louder, “i did not know such an unbecoming sound could originate from such a lovely women!” you scoffed, “that is no way to talk to your best friend!” you fake cried as you wiped literal tears from your eyes, the paintings in-front taking your eye.

simons breath hitched, best friend? best friend?

is that what you thought of him as? he thought the world of you, over the time he’s gotten to know you, he held you in the highest esteem. you were everything to him and he was a mere friend for you. no, he would not have it. who else loved you as he did? wanted you as he did?

“best friend?” simon questioned as your laughter died down at his seriousness, “what?” you giggled as you tried to compose yourself. “you named me your best friend. am i nothing more to you? just a friend? you see me as an acquaintance, as a brother?”

“no i do not see you as a brother, my dear simon.” you smiled, “you are amazing. every day i wake and think of seeing you, for the time i have known you, you have been nothing short of my favourite person. i look forward to seeing you, speaking with you and dancing. arguing over who’s literature is better, who’s right and who’s wrong. i have never known someone’s company besides daphnes to never annoy me. i love you, i do but-”

“but nothing. we love each other, that is all that matters. y/n not a day goes by where i do not wish to be in your presence, to see your gorgeous face. to hear you say my name, to feel you hit me when i say something utterly scandalous. i cannot and will not imagine myself spending my life with no other women but you. you are my other half, you are the air i breathe and the only person whom i’ve ever loved as much as i do. there are not enough words to describe my love for you y/n/n. it is you who i wish to wake up with everyday, it is you who i wish to be with, you who i would start a family with. your laughter that shall echo through my halls for as long as we live. i cannot and will not fathom the idea of you not being here for me, you are made for me.” simons grip encircled your wrists as he pulled you close, his face drawing near as he met your lips.

you never imagined yourself here with simon especially. he’d been nothing short of amazing in your time here, your best friend. but here you were, kissing him.

kissing him?!

you immediately detached from him as you retained your senses and drew your hands to cover your face in shock. “i’m so- so sorry. i do not know what that was your grace.” you rambled as your heart quickened, had someone seen? how could you be so stupid!?

his eyes furrowed at your words, your grace? what was with the formalities, you were to be wed, to be together. and here you were reverting to old habits. “my love there is no need to use such proper titles.”

your head whipped up the second he stopped speaking, “simon do not say such things! endearing terms as such are for, married couples. we are not.” you whispered as you made your way towards the party, but not before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him as you collided with his chest.

he couldn’t let you go, everything, his head and his heart were screeching at him to ‘hold on tight’, to not let you go. so he did what he thought best,

lie.

“someone saw us.”

your eyes widened to the heavens as your breathing quickened again, “no. no they didn’t- they didn’t.” you shook your head as he placed his hand on your cheek to have you look at him. your eyes began to water and he felt himself tense, he hated it. he hated the idea of you being upset, but he was so close to having what he wanted so he continued.

“my dear y/n, i will treat you better then anyone ever could, deep down you know you are better off with me then any other. i love you, we will be together.” simon explained as you buried your head in his chest, you were so young, you hadn’t even properly debuted and now you were to be wed. how did you let this happen?

but a little voice piped up in your head, ‘it’s simon, your simon. the one who is always there for you. marrying him will give you a life of happiness and peace. marrying your best friend is the best thing you could ask for. you loved him when you didn’t know him truly, and now you do. be happy.’

and you wanted to be, simon was so good to you.

but you knew you weren’t ready. with marriage people would expect a child, a family. and your real life, the one back home? what would happen? would you ever go back? or would marrying him cement you in this world, forever.

“shh, you’ll be okay. i’m here, right here my love. you are my love, my heart, my infatuation.”

and you didn’t know it but you were right, the second you allowed him into your life, you were never going to go back home.

[loversatthegreatdivide]

Heavy Lies the Heart - Chapter 5

Masterlist // Continue Reading

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 2k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: death Summary: When two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance, can they find purpose in each other? Or will circumstance keep them apart? A/N: I love writing completely genre romance because I get to be so DRAMATIC about everything. It is extremely entertaining.

Benedict stood frozen as he stared intently at Beatrice. She gazed back, her brows lifted in concern.

"Something wrong brother?" Colin asked. Benedict nearly jumped, having already forgotten he wasn't alone, "Ah, it's the princess that's caught your eye is it? She is quite lovely--but did you not see her at the Danbury ball?"

"N-no; I must have been elsewhere when she arrived," Benedict replied, watching as Beatrice finally turned away.

"It was certainly a surprise; she caused quite the stir you know. I've heard she's staying at Buckingham House, so perhaps we'll see more of her before the season's out?"

Benedict turned to his brother, "Ah--yes, perhaps."

Colin scowled, "Are you sure you're alright? You seem...out of sorts."

Before Benedict could respond, he caught sight of his mother and Francesca as they moved to present themselves to the queen. He watched Beatrice when they approached. She held a brief look of surprise, before relaxing into a warm smile. She exchanged words with them quickly, until another mother-daughter pair hurried along to take their place before the queen.

Benedict took a long sip of his lemonade as the two came to join the brothers, smiles spread across their faces.

"I think we've done well tonight," Violet said confidently, "The princess seemed quite taken with Francesca--we can only hope the queen felt the same."

"What did she say?" Benedict asked quickly. His family looked at him with confusion.

"How unlike you to take such an interest, dear," Violet observed.

"Well, that is" Benedict hesitated, "With Anthony absent this evening, it falls to me to oversee such matters, yes?"

His mother's eyes narrowed, but she didn't push, "Of course,"

"The princess asked me about music," Francesca replied, smiling shyly, "She had heard I played the piano forte and wanted to know my favorite piece. Did you know she plays piano forte and the harp?"

"I...no, I did not know that," Benedict lied. Of course Beatrice had told him as much; she loved music nearly as much as Francesca.

"It is unsurprising that a young woman of her status would be so accomplished," Violet remarked, "though I hadn't expected her to be so...friendly?"

"Friendly?" Colin repeated.

"Well, yes--she was quite kind, and appeared genuinely happy to being speaking with us: dare I say she seemed almost excited about it."

"It certainly makes a stark contrast when paired with her grandmother, does it not?" Eloise, having made her way silently into the group, commented with a smirk.

"Eloise! That is no way to speak about our queen!" Her mother quickly scolded.

"Yes, and you had better hope grandmama doesn't hear you say such things; she can be quite the terror when she feels insulted." Everyone turned in shock to stare as Beatrice smiled back at them, the Bridgertons having been too absorbed in their conversation to notice her approach, "You should see her after she reads Whistledown, she seethes quite fiercely--though I would appreciate you not telling her I said so."

Benedict felt his chest ache as he stared at her; the swirling emotions within him too numerous to count.

His heart was filled with love for her, but he felt confusion at exactly how he should respond to the situation. He was shocked of course, then worried about what it would mean for the two of them going forward. He was angry she had kept something this important from him, but sympathetic as to what she must have been going through, then guilty as he knew how much she must be worried about his reaction. He was reevaluating what it was he thought he wanted, but couldn't come to a satisfying conclusion.

Beatrice stood smiling before him, but she refused to look him in the eye.

Violet visibly paled as she stared at the princess, "Oh, your highness, Eloise didn't mean--"

"It is fine. She is not wrong, after all," Beatrice replied, waving her hand dismissively, "At any rate, I thought perhaps I might gauge you interest in joining me for tea in the near future? I believe Miss Francesca might enjoy seeing the music room at Buckingham House."

"Oh, that would be lovely!" Francesca answered quickly, beaming back at Beatrice.

"We would certainly be honored for the invitation, your highness," Violet added, clearly pleased.

Beatrice nodded "Wonderful! The you should expect an invitation from me soon," she turned to Eloise, "You are welcome as well Miss Eloise; I have heard it said you're fond of reading? The royal library has quite the collection--I believe we have just received a few novels from France that may interest you."

"She has certainly heard quite a bit about us," Colin whispered to his brother. Benedict stayed silent, knowing full well he was the source of all her information.

"That sounds delightful, thank you your highness," Eloise responded awkwardly.

Beatrice smiled, "Lovely, I will certainly be glad to have you." Her eyes moved towards the dance floor, the other guests all whispering as they stared openly at her. A group of young men had formed together as they waited for her to leave the conversation. She looked out as she sighed, "It seems I have been cornered--I did not dance at the last ball, and I believe the crowd has become rather ravenous for me to do something gossip worthy."

When she looked back, her eyes finally met his.

"Yes, the ton is quite fond of its gossip," Violet agreed. They two hardly heard her, their minds abound with thoughts of what would come next.

Benedict had already realized it: This was it.

Now was the time he had to choose: Were they to be relegated to the shadows, forever apart? Was the brief time shared below streetlamps the only time they would ever have? Or was he willing to step out with her where everyone could see? Would he willingly move into view, knowing what that would inevitably mean? It was the choice between a fleeting moment of happiness that would only ever survive in their memory, or the chance--however slim--to attempt making something of these feelings they shared. Was he willing to try to have a real relationship with her, even if it was against all odds? Even with all that would come with it?

As they stared, the others in their company exchanged quick glances. It was clear their was something they had missed, but they couldn't imagine what.

"Then perhaps," Benedict spoke at last, "Her highness would do me the honor of her first dance?" he asked, extending his hand.

The other Bridgertons looked at him in open shock, before all eyes quickly fell to the princess. Beatrice looked just as surprised, but her shoulders quickly relaxed as a relieved smile formed on her face.

"Of course, Mister Bridgerton," she answered, laying her hand gently on his.

---

Beatrice followed along with Benedict as they made their way to the dance floor. She could feel the weight as the eyes of the ton followed their every move, but she hardly cared. In that moment there was only herself and Benedict, her eyes locked with his.

They took their places, standing opposite one another. They took a breath, and the strings ushered in the start of the dance. Soon the floor was awash with the fluid motion of dancing couples.

Benedict and Beatrice were at the center of it all, the other pairs on the floor giving them a wide berth. They stepped lightly toward each other, then back; their gaze uninterrupted as they moved. They stepped once more, before their hands moved up to clasp as Beatrice spun elegantly, dancing a few beats before spinning back. They twisted together, Benedict's right arm placed at the small of her back as he held her hand against her side. The other arm lay against his chest as her opposing hand rested in his. He held her gently as they moved.

"Benedict," Beatrice said softly as her face hovered only inches from his, "I am so terribly sorry, I--"

They broke apart, turning in place before coming back together.

"It is alright Beatrice, I...I understand," he assured her.

They stepped back, their arms moving up as their palms pressed together. They turned together slowly, Beatrice smiled nervously as she glanced down.

"Thank you, truly," she looked back up at him, "And please know I don't expect anything--just because we've been seen together here, it does not mean there has to be anything more, if that is not what you want."

The each spun around, their opposite arms returning up as their hands met once again.

"Beatrice, if more were not my intention, I would not have asked you for a dance," he assured her. Her face flushed.

"I-I see," she replied, a smile forming on her lips.

"Now," he smirked, "Shall we give Whistledown something to write about?" He spun her around as she laughed. Her smile was wide now, a genuine look of happiness on her face as she stared back at him. He smiled too, and it would be clear to anyone watching they were truly enjoying themselves. They no longer cared for the consequences, choosing instead to enjoy the dance to its fullest.

All too soon, their dance was at an end. They came to a stop, and Benedict bowed low in a manner that could very easily have been accused of playfulness. Beatrice held her hand to her mouth as she hid a small laugh.

"Your highness," Benedict smiled as he spoke.

"Mister Bridgerton," she replied with a grin, her head dipping slightly in acknowledgement.

He straighten, the two sharing one more glance before he retreated back to his eagerly awaiting family. Beatrice smiled as she watched him go, before graciously greeting a group of equally eager young men.

---

"What in heavens name was that?" Violet asked as her son approached.

"I haven't the foggiest notion of what you mean mother--it was a dance," he replied innocently, though the smirk on his face suggested anything but.

Eloise scoffed, "That hardly looked like just a dance."

"Yes, and I believe the queen would agree," Colin added, inclining his head in the direction of the dais. Benedict took a quick glance at the queen, before quickly looking away. She was staring directly at him with a look of pure suspicion. That, he would have to worry about later.

"You are all looking far too much into this--anyone would be thrilled to dance with a beautiful princess, would they not?" He commented, grabbing a glass from the nearby drink table.

"Even for one who takes no thrill in dancing under normal circumstances?" Eloise asked knowingly.

"Yes," Benedict answered bluntly, taking a large drink of lemonade.

"It does not seem the princess shares her enthusiasm so equally between partners either" Colin noted with a smile. Benedict turned to look out across the dance floor. Beatrice was dancing with a tall, lanky fellow who spun her around like a rag doll. She kept up her smile, but it was clearly more forced than it had been with her previous partner, "Yet I would hardly describe you as a beautiful princess, so why did she seem so equally thrilled to have you as her partner as you were with her?"

"I am hardly one to know a a young lady's mind," Benedict answered with a calculated level of nonchalance, before gesturing to the dance floor, "And that is hardly proof of anything--would you enjoy being flung about like a dogs chew toy?" Benedict countered.

"You are hardly convincing dear," his mother sighed, "Whatever you're up to Benedict, I only hope you know what you're doing--she is royalty, after all."

Beatrice caught his eye across the ballroom, and for a brief moment the warmth of her smile could be no less real than his own as he stared back.

Frankly he had no idea what he was getting into, but whatever conflicting feelings may still linger in his thoughts, his heart had made its choice.

----------

Tags: @empressnatsume @sarahskywalker-amidala @may-and-lay @lovelyxjanett @asterizee @g4ns3y @bubblegumcat229

[sea-owl]

The Lily Ball

Inspired by @thekatebriderton post found here:

and my own post about the Bridgertons practicing arranged marriages found here:

For those following into the colinverse, this is baby Colin's universe!

-

Fifteen year old Simon watched as the countryside rolled by the window. Normally when Eton would give a break to their pupils he would stay in his dorm, much preferring that than going back to his father's properties. But when your aunt is Lady Agatha Danbury, and she tells you go somewhere because you were invited as her plus one to a country house party you go. So now Simon found himself sharing a carriage with a fifteen year old Anthony and a thirteen year old Benedict Bridgerton as they made their way to Aubrey Hall.

"Thank you for allowing me to join you," Simon said, slowing his words so his stutter doesn't take over.

"Don't thank us yet," Anthony warned. "Mother and Father are probably trying to see if they can match you to any of my sisters."

"Do you really think Father and Mother will try to find another match during this break?" Benedict asked.

Anthony snorted. "They will not rest until every single one of us is paired off."

Ah yes, the famous Bridgerton arranged love matches. The family practices arranged marriages but every single one ends up turning into a love match. Every matchmaking mama wants their child to be one of the lucky ones, but no one was quite sure what the Bridgertons were looking for when making those matches. They were not afraid to bypass heirs for second or third sons, they did not care if your family was old money or new money. Simon has heard stories of one cousin who was arranged with a privateer, and another a medical doctor.

Of the current Bridgertons though Simon believed he remembered Anthony saying that only two of the six were matched up. Anthony being one of those two, the other was a third daughter?

"Not our third sister," Anthony corrected. "Our brother Colin is matched to a third daughter."

Benedict let out a laugh. "That he matched himself to."

Before Simon could ask what the brothers meant the carriage stopped.

"Well here we are."

The boys were met with two couples and Simon's aunt. The boys greeted the hosts first, Viscount Edmund Bridgerton and Viscountess Violet Bridgerton first, before turning to the second couple. Simon would later learn this is Mr. Miles Sharma and his wife Lady Mary Sharma aka Anthony's future in-laws. Finally Lady Danbury demanded their attention before they were sent off to the playroom where the other children were.

In the playroom was one other boy around eight stuffing biscuits in his mouth and five girls ranging from ages ten to two.

Anthony walked over to the ten year old girl, giving her a mock polite bow, while she rolled her eyes. The little three year old girl next to them laughed.

Benedict leaned closer to Simon. "That's Kate Sharma."

"Anthony's fiancé?" Simon asked.

Benedict nodded. "The only girl I have ever seen out stubborn Anthony. Colin, the one who is currently stuffing his face with biscuits, and I are betting how long until they start arguing. The little girl by them is Edwina, Kate's sister."

"And the rest?" Simon asked. He could guess what their names start with, D, E and F, the Bridgertons famously named their children in alphabetical order, but that was about it.

Benedict pointed to the seven year old, the three year old, and the two year old. "Daphne, Eloise, and Francesca."

Daphne looked excited to see her brothers. "Yay! We were about to play house!"

Benedict and Colin let out a groan, but one look from Anthony had them quiet.

"I will be the Mama." Daphne pointed to Anthony and Kate. "You two will be the aunt and uncle. Edwina will be your child."

Daphne whipped back around to Simon. "You will be my husband, Eloise and Francesca will be our daughters."

Simon nodded, feeling like it was better and safer to play along rather than deny the eldest Bridgerton daughter.

"And Colin will be our son and Benedict will be the butler!"

"What!" Colin exclaimed. "We did not agree to play house!"

"Relax Colin," Benedict said. "We're older than Daphne, we don't have to listen to her."

Daphne huffed but then looked up at Simon. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen?" Simon said, though it sounded more like a question.

Daphne smiled a smug smile. "Ha! Simon is older than both of you! You have to listen to him!"

Benedict and Colin let out another groan.

"Just play for a little bit," Anthony ordered.

Daphne grabbed Simon's hand. "Come husband, we must get our children ready for the ball."

"O-okay," Simon stuttered. He winced. He'll have to be more careful the rest of this trip. Though to be fair he was not prepared for someone like Daphne Bridgerton.

The children spent a good hour "preparing for the ball." This included actually decorating the room to an agreed theme between Kate and Daphne. Simon could't tell you what the theme was but if he had to guess it was something to do with flowers. They kept Benedict busy by having him running around between the two pretend families.

This left Anthony and Simon in charge of their "children." Anthony easily took to it, fixing Edwina's little misplaced hairs. Simon had a little bit more trouble.

Simon awkwardly shuffled as Colin, Eloise, and Francesca all stared up at him. Finally Eloise broke the silence.

"Papa aren't you going to help us get ready?"

Simon had to stop himself from falling over. Papa!? Where-what?

Edwina's giggle broke Simon out of his thoughts. The little girl was hugging Anthony. "Thank you papa!"

Oh right, they are playing pretend house, and Simon is their pretend papa.

"O-of co-course," Simon said.

He started with Colin and fixing his cravat, wiping off the crumbs. Then Simon straightened out Francesca's leading strings so she would not trip over them. Eloise was the biggest challenge as she had somehow had half her hair out from the ribbon it was previously in two seconds ago.

"Let me help husband," Daphne said, coming back over to their pretend family.

Daphne had taken Eloise's hair completely out of the ribbon, redoing into a braid that is somehow both neat and messy in a way only a child's hands could produce, and then tie it off with Simon's help.

"Thank you Mama, thank you Papa," Eloise said.

The little family of five then began their walk to the ball across the room where Anthony and Kate stood waiting for them.

Anthony and Kate both bowed their heads. "Thank you for coming to the Lily/Tulip Ball."

Kate turned to glare at Anthony. "It is the Lily Ball Anthony!"

Oh so that's what they're supposed to be. Simon would have guessed daffodils.

Anthony looked around at the decorations around the room. "That is not a lily Kate, it's a tulip."

Kate glared, clearly offended. "Anthony Bridgerton! Do you not know your flowers? Do you need spectacles?"

Now Anthony was glaring down at Kate. Which was funny sight since Kate was at least a good foot shorter than him still. He was about to say something else when Daphne interrupted.

"Thank you for inviting us to the ball, Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton. It all looks lovely."

Colin shot Benedict a triumph look. Guess Simon knew who won the bet.

"Enjoy yourself . . . um" Kate paused. Anthony leaned down to whisper something in Kate's ear, who nodded in understanding. "Duke and Duchess Basset."

Well at least they didn't use Hastings.

During their pretend ball somehow more treats appeared for them to snack on, and the nanny that Simon had not noticed before started playing the pianoforte for them so they could dance. Benedict was promoted from butler to suitor so they would have more people to dance with.

At one point Colin looked over at the door and his face lit up. "Pen!"

This caused everyone else to look over. In the doorway was four more children ranging from ages eight, five, and three, and their nannies.

Colin rushed over to greet who Simon thought was his fiancé. Colin surprised him when he scooped up the three year old red head in his arms instead of the blonde five year old.

"She's Pen?" Simon whispered to Anthony.

Anthony nodded. "Penelope Featherington. Colin's been claiming she's his since the girl was practically born, practically matched himself to her."

"Does he know what that means?" Simon asked.

Anthony shrugged. "Not sure, but Mother and Father found it suitable enough to officially match them. They'll have the longest match out of any of us."

Kate and Daphne went to greet the other children in the doorway, and then proceeded to pull them into their game of pretend as other guests to the ball.

Kate announced them in age order. "Arriving is Lord Michael Stirling, Lord Phillip Crane, Lady Sophie Beckett, and Lady Penelope Featherington."

Colin immediately swept Penelope away over to the food. The little girl giggled the way young children do.

Eloise looked ready to follow them when her eyes narrowed in on the book in Phillip's hands. From what Simon could tell it was a children's book to help them start reading.

Eloise pointed at the book. "Can you read?" Eloise questioned.

Phillip nodded, hugging the book closer.

Eloise grabbed one of Phillip's arms, attempting to drag him over to one of the sofas pushed back to make the dance floor. "Read to me!"

Phillip obedintly followed. Opening the book his words were slow, but confident. Eloise followed along by pointing at the words, and sounding a few of the letters with Phillip.

Another song started up and Simon glanced back at the dance floor to see Benedict had offered to dance with Sophie. She looked so excited just by the simple dance, and the steps Benedict was teaching her.

"This is so much fun!" Sophie giggled. "Much more fun than at home!"

"I'm glad you're having fun Lady Beckett," Benedict said, setting Sophie off in another round of giggles.

"Oh my," Daphne gasped, now back at Simon's side.

Simon looked in the same direction as Daphne, and he also watched curious.

Francesca had toddled over to Michael, her eyes wide in wonder. She gripped onto his coat sleeve as Michael got down on his knees to be at eye level with her.

"Hello Princess," Michael said.

Francesca stared at Michael a bit longer before exclaiming, "Mine!"

Simon had to hide laugh at Anthony's jaw drop at his youngest sister's declaration. Daphne was laughing too before dragging Simon to the makeshift dance floor to avoid Anthony's outrage.

Edmund and Violet Bridgerton watched their children from the doorway. The Lily Ball as the children had decided to call it was coming to a close with one final dance.

"I believe we may have found matches for our other children," Violet whispered.

"I believe you are right my dear," Edmund whispered back. "I shall speak to their parents after dinner tonight."

[sukibenders]

Sharma Family prompt suggestion

A Sharma family holiday fic with husbands and children, the sisters doting on each other’s babies and Mary as the matriarch… just some family fuzzy feels

Thank you xoxo

Thank you so much for the prompt! Now since you mentioned babies, I was toying between having Edwina be with Friedrich in this (as I ship them together) or having Mary, while holding Edmund, imagining Edwina having kids of her own, and I think I can fit both storylines. I know that you said holiday, but I changed it to Mary's birthday so I hope that's all right. I'm super nervous, as this is my first time writing for an ask, but I hope you like it!

The Bridgerton family's ancestral home of Aubrey Hall held an atmosphere of joyous momentum, lightened spirits and warm hearts flooding the halls as the members of the household flocked every corner. It was the Viscountess Bridgerton's dear mother's, Mary Sharma, birthday and had been a long awaited event of celebration for the family. Though Mary had been very adamant on not wanting to trouble anyone even with the special day, her daughters had been most insistent and had dragged many of the other Bridgertons into it. Anthony had proclaimed very vocally that they were family following a few years after he and Kate were wed, and hoping to clear out any doubt of belonging with the Bridgerton family from Mary's and, when the awkwardness between them had settled, Edwina's minds.

They were family, and deserved to be celebrated on special days such as birthdays.

Violet was ever most excited for the celebration, having come to find herself considering Mary as one of her closest friends during their time together, spending hours upon hours talking away over tea from the lives of their children, their desire for more grandchildren to spoil, to the gossip of the Ton (though amongst anyone but themselves or Lady Danbury, they would pretend to hold little interest). Practically attached to Kate's hip, the pair were an unstoppable force as they had set plans for the event in motion long before they had even reached Aubrey Hall.

Mary could only laugh sweetly as she watched those she had come to view as family and taken into her heart hurried around to prepare final details, all for a celebration just for her. She could recall birthdays, her own, being one of little joyful experiences given the nature of her parents. Always so serious, hardly ever allowing for her to have a moment to feel any sort of excitement towards her special day. It wasn't until she met her love, the most wonderful man to ever grace the Earth, that she began to change her views toward her birthday. And that new view fell onto their daughters, who would only know happiness and love on their birthdays and never anything else. Mary nearly felt like bursting into tears then and there as she watched Kate, from her hidden spot as to avoid spoiling any surprises, discuss adamantly with the staff on the arrangement of flowers that she knew her mother would love most so.

While there would forever be moments of hurt and sadness that had left Mary clinging to her eldest daughter, to lift the great burden from her shoulders that she was never meant to carry, there would be moments of endless delight and amity as she and Kate were now closer than ever, and growing more and more as the years went by. When she had discovered that Kate was with a child, her first, Mary could not help but be elated. However, upon seeing the hesitant look in Kate's eyes, she swallowed her own feelings and sought to provide comfort that her daughter had so desperately needed. When Kate had asked for her to be by her side during the delivery, Mary simply smiled warmly as she held every intention of being there for her daughter.

A small whine drew Mary's attention to the toddler in her arms, the product of Kate's and Anthony's love and the newest piece within Mary's heart. Edmund was only three and yet had Mary wishing that she could slow time, and keep him small forever. He had once held a ball of energy earlier in the day, only growing more and more when Friedrich appeared and swept him under his arms. The boy had been most fond of his uncle, and the pair had nearly toured the whole gardens before returning inside with, surprisingly, little stains from their adventure (Kate had Friedrich to thank, as the idea of having to bathe her energetic son was the last thing on her list).

Though Edmund's childish glee quickly became bashful when he tucked himself into his aunt's arms, peering up at Edwina with such innocent eyes that it nearly had the latter swooning. Kate had commented that she had a hunch that, once Edmund had been born, he would be spoiled rotten by just Edwina alone to which the princess had smiled cheerily and blew a series of wet kisses onto her nephew's round cheeks. With Friedrich in the picture, Mary had mentioned, the level of presents that her grandson had regularly received would double.

Whispering softly into her grandson's ears, she rocked him gently and watched as his long lashes flutter before he fell into a slumber against her chest. Anthony had offered to take the young boy from her, worrying that his boundless energy may tire her, but Mary had shook her head. "I had to raise Kate and Edwina, trust me, Edmund is a piece of cake compared to the two of them, especially when they started scheming with one another."

Anthony shook his head fondly. "Believe me, I've come to find that out. Those two are bound to come up with something if you leave them alone long enough."

"Is that so?" Came a voice. Anthony blanched but Mary could merely chuckle as Kate moved over to the pair, placing a loving kiss of her son's hairline and smiling warmly at her mother before regarding her husband with a raised brow. "You were saying dear husband?"

As Mary stared down at the sleeping boy as his parents playfully jested with one another, but couldn't help but trail her eyes toward her youngest, Edwina. Her sweet girl, who overcame such a challenging period in her life during her first season and those following, a period in which Mary had feared her daughter would never escape. But Edwina was always strong, both her girls were. And when Edwina had caught the eyes of a prince who, at first had left Mary on the fence as, even with his charm and respectful demeanor, her protective instincts kicked in and left her seeking nothing more than to hide Edwina from the world. It wasn't until she had witnessed Friedrich so fiercely defend Edwina from cruelty that she had a change of heart. Mary told him this at the wedding, and Friedrich had simply kissed her cheek and promised to protect and defend Edwina with everything he had, as well as love her as she deserved. It was second nature, he had said, like breathing.

When she looked at Edwina, carrying a sense of peace within herself that she had nearly lost, sharing such loving graces and glances with Friedrich, Mary could only wish that her own love was there to see how happy their daughters were. Hugging Edmund closer to her chest, Mary sighed fondly as she imagined another little pair of feet following after him, whether a boy or girl she could care less, but Mary hoped that they would have Edwina's sweet smile and doe eyes, as well as their father's head of curls and freckled cheeks. Such a cute baby the pair would have, Mary was sure but held small uncertainty with bringing up the fact with her youngest, who had found herself struggling with conceiving. She could remember how a downcast expression had been a more common sight on a usually more cheerful Edwina and it left Mary wanting nothing more than to wash it away.

"If I had to wish for something most dear," Mary had thought, "then it would to be for Edwina and Friedrich to be blessed with a gift such as I have had, all those years ago."

She could wish.

Mary furrowed slightly as she watched her youngest and son-in-law in question as they moved to a secluded corner, attempting to move away from any curious eyes. She had noticed how Friedrich had, after greeting all in attendance and charmingly waving off her protest at all the gifts he had brought with a simple kiss to her cheek and boyish wink, remained ever close to Edwina's side for most of the day save when she was beside Kate, who studied her sister with a curious eye. It wasn't necessarily unlike the prince to be so close with his dear princess, but Mary held a suspicion when she noticed Edwina only nibbled on small foods and drank tea with a subtle hint of ginger.

A small flutter of hope birthed in Mary's chest, and as she watched Friedrich gently place his palm over Edwina's stomach, eyes alight with a similar look that Mary's love had held when he had found out she was carrying, tears of pride and happiness bore from Mary's eyes even as she tried to swiftly hide them, for even though this was the best present that she could ask for, she would wait until Edwina was ready to share.

Her parents made her despise her birthdays. Her husband made her find joy in them. And her daughters, her beautiful and precious daughters, made her feel intense love that she would cherish to the end of her days.

"Mama," a series of hands grabbed her shoulders and Mary snapped out her daze to see her two girls sitting on either side of her, worry painting their expressions as they brushed crestfallen tears from their mother's face. Anthony and Friedrich stood before her, boh wearing looks of worry as Kate asked. "Are you all right?"

"Are you feeling ill?" Edwina nurturingly placed her hand against her mother's forehead, only to frown. "You don't feel warm."

Friedrich stepped forward, ducking his head slightly. "Would you like for Anthony and I to bring you something, ma'am?" At that, Anthony looked nearly ready to bolt for the nearest horse and ride to find the closest doctor when Mary had quickly waved them off, trying to smother their worry.

"Please, please, don't fret," she sent Friedrich a stern but soft look. "I thought I told you to call me mama?"

Friedrich only smiled at her words, forgetting in his concern for her, bowing his head in apology. "Forgive me. But, are you well?"

Mary reached to grab both her daughters' hands, all while still holding a sleeping Edmund, leaning to rest her head on Edwina's shoulder. "I am the happiest that I could ever be, and then some."

Kate and Edwina shared a knowing look, quickly reassuring their husbands that there was nothing to be concerned about before leaning into their mother's side.

[charbear177]

5 Reasons You Need To Watch Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story

I read all of Julia Quinn’s Bridgerton books years ago and was so excited to hear Shonda Rhimes was turning these sexy love stories into an even sexier Netflix series. The first season premiered and it did not disappoint. While the first season evoked familiar emotions from the books, and maybe this is an unpopular opinion, the second season was good but left me feeling lukewarm about future seasons.

Fast forward to hearing about Queen Charlotte getting a six-episode, limited series, I was not sure what to expect. I knew about the Mad King George and that they had many children but not much else. The series premiered on May 4, 2023, and I was instantly sucked in and binged the series in a day. While I was sad when the series ended, I am hopeful for another season. If you liked Bridgerton, you do not want to miss Queen Charlotte.

5 Reasons To Watch Queen Charlotte

It’s Just So Good

In my opinion, it is the best of the Bridgerton series so far. I laughed and cried, and even yelled at the screen in frustration and concern for George. I love romance novels, heck I write them, but this series hits differently than your typical story because the characters were real people. The stakes were higher and a happy ending was not guaranteed for the couple.

In true Bridgerton style, there are a lot of steamy sex scenes, some not-so-steamy sex scenes, and some brief male nudity. The scenes do not feel gratuitous but add to the story. The term “even days” will have a whole new meaning and make you chuckle.

Makes You Hopeful For Love

The romance, the chemistry, and the sex in Queen Charlotte will make your heart yearn to be loved as deeply as King George loved his Queen. It’s young love and passion with some serious issues making a healthy marriage and relationship more challenging.

Points of view and past and present scenes make the love between Charlotte and George gut-wrenching. When George says, “I love you desperately. I cannot breathe when you are not near. I love you Charlotte. My heart calls your name,” even my heart felt that. Sorry, but it blew, “I burn for you” out of the water.

Makes Being Single Look Pretty Good

Romance, love, and passion are wonderful and can exist perfectly outside the confines of marriage. We know Lady Danbury from the Bridgerton series but in Queen Charlotte we get a chance to learn more about her relationship with Queen Charlotte, how her title came about, her marriage to Lord Danbury, and why she chose to never remarry.

Women were controlled by their husbands and if a woman had an abusive or terrible husband she was screwed. To become a wealthy widow, with complete autonomy for a woman in those days was a win. Days of leisure, a lover or two for fun, and money to keep you comfortable is all some woman need to be quite content in life.

The Beauty and Fashion

The costuming is stunning. We are treated to beautiful dress after beautiful dress, wonderfully paired with hair and wigs that are characters all on their own. All the glitz and glamour are set against the breathtaking backdrop of palaces and their perfectly manicured lawns and estates.

Looking at how exquisite the fashion is in Queen Charlotte almost makes me wish I could be transported back in time just to dress up and attend a ball. I said almost.

It’s Strangely Relatable

Whether you are young and passionately in love or older but still passionate and feeling your bloom you can relate. Or perhaps you fell for someone unavailable or that you cannot be with, or you’re in a loveless relationship or widowed. If you have loved, longed for, or lost a love you will feel a connection. Rich or poor, love and marriage issues transcends class but of course, I think many would prefer the latter.

Queen Charlotte will be emotionally difficult to watch at times but it’s a beautiful love story. Actually, there are several love stories to make your heart ache and break a little but it is so worth it. I hope you give it a watch and if you do let me know your thoughts.

[alewritesfics]

Revelations

Summary: Dinner with the Sheffield’s may bring secrets forth

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Sharma Sister!reader

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings:

Series Masterlist

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

“You seem distracted, deedee” Edwina tells Kate

“It’s, uh, just a headache” Kate says and walks over to Edwina after the maid was done dressing her.

I look at Kate worriedly, the ladies maid doing the finishing touched to my hair.

“From, uh, all the excitement these days”

“Is that all that ails you? I have seen how ill at ease you are with the Viscount” I see Kate’s eyes flick over to me “ I was hoping we had put all that behind us now that, Anthony is to be my husband” She smiled giddily

“He has asked you to call him by his given name?” Kate said shocked

“No, not yet” Edwina frowned “It is weird, he gave Y/n the privilege before me, and I, am the one who is going to be his wife” I ignore their talk

“But it sounds fine, does it not?”

“Do you think the Sheffield’s, will like us?” I ask them, changing the conversation “ My stomach is in a knot, wondering what they will think of me, considering I am one and twenty, not married yet, even if it is my first season, and that Edwina was chosen as the Incomparable being younger than me”

“Sisters, before you go, there is something I must tell you both” Kate started, we look at her expectantly

“Our guests have arrived” Lady Danbury interrupts her, Edwina and I looked at each other and smiled, we held hands and walked to the dining room together.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

“Ah, Lord and Lady Sheffield, it has been too long, may I present, Miss Sharma and Miss Y/n and Edwina Sharma” we bowed in greeting

“Oh my dears, look at you” Lady Sheffield smiled “Aren’t they as lovely as the reports say” She looked at me

“Although we were kind of shocked that your younger sister, got to be the incomparable, instead of you” She laughed “Imagine being overthrown by your younger sister, she is the Incomparable and marrying a Viscount ” my smile dimmed at her insult

I looked back at Mama and Kate, they smiled at me reassuringly, I turned back around and got a glimpse of Anthony’s expression from behind the Sheffield’s, his jaw tightened in annoyance.

“We are so happy to make your acquaintance” I said instead, Lady Sheffield gave me a tight smile

“Yes, I am sure” She turned back to Edwina, giving her all her attention “I wish to know everything about you, do enjoy dancing, music”

“You must accompany us to the opera” Lord Sheffield added

I looked between them three before turning and walking back next to Kate, my cheerful mood now gone.

“We have a box that is gathering dust”

“Indeed it has been too long since we’ve seen you both in town, Lord and Lady Sheffield” Lady Bridgerton said

“Yes, indeed it has” Lady Sheffield snarled, looking at mama

“Mother, father” mama greeted

“I do enjoy the opera, My sister, Kate, was the one who introduced Y/n and I, into it” The Sheffield’s said nothing

“Oh, shall we go through to dinner” Lady Danbury cuts through the silence

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪

We ate dinner, The Sheffield’s speaking only to Edwina, which was a disappointment seeing as I was excited to meet them. But what could I expect from the people that disowned my mother for finding true love.

“Of course, you shall be our guests at the Sheffield Manor, It is nothing compared to the estates of Aubrey Hall to be sure, but I think it a most pretty part of Hertfordshire”

“Do you shoot? We have a fine stock of birds and you are welcome”

“Thank you for the invitation, I do enjoy shooting”

“So does Kate and Y/n, Kate is the one who taught Y/n, and she does enjoy it much” Edwina gestures to us

“How unusual” Lady Sheffield looks at us “ Do they teach young ladies to shoot in India”

“Only the fortunate ones” Kate answers

“Lord and Lady Sheffield, how long do you plan to remain in town?” I ask them

“Well, we will stay for the wedding” Lady Sheffield answers “Imagine, the queen herself overseeing my granddaughter’s nuptials, we should spend more time together, and you tell us all about what you are planning for the wedding”

“May I be able to join you all?” I ask smiling, Lady Sheffield pursued her lips

“You are not the one marrying the Viscount, are you?” I stayed quiet “I thought so”

“Her majesty is so forgiving, after everything that happened”

“Now, now, we are all family” Lord Sheffield said to his wife, who laughed humorously

“Of course we are” she looked at mama “even after our daughter so callously rejected the match we had found for her”

“My dear, we agreed-“

“-Ah and no less, with twelve thousand acres, any other young lady would have fallen to her knees in gratitude that her parents were showing such care” I looked at her annoyed

“This was delicious Lady Danbury, you must have your cook give mine the recipe” Lady Bridgerton interjected

“it is the gooseberry, I believe” Lady Danbury laughs “Lady Sheffield, you’ve got quite the sweet tooth, I do recall?”

“And all for what? A mere clerk, was he? And with a child from a previous marriage to God knows who”

“She did it for love!” I exclaimed, everyone looked at me shocked

“Y/n-“ Mama started to say but I ignored her

“Something which I am sure you know nothing about since you disowned your only daughter because she fell in love? What kind of parents are you?” they gasped incredulously

“How dare-“

“And my sisters mother has a name”

“We could not show our faces in society for years, not that she should care” she ignored everything I just said

“She simply sailed away from all of us with that man, robbing us of our grandchild”

“Grandchildren” mama said “I have three daughters with whom you have had every opportunity to form a connection. But the choice to shun us was yours alone”

“I beg your pardon-“

“Do not think I took it lightly, being cast out by the only family I had ever known. I was heartbroken, indeed. But in time, I came to see, that in your cruelty, you did us all a great service”

“I hardly think this is a proper dinner conversation”

“I completely agree, please collect-“

“When you cast me out, what you did was set me free. Free to raise my daughters far from your constant judgment and craven demands that they should chase wealth and titles above all else!”

“I see where Y/n gets her character from, talking back to her seniors, where is her manners” Lady Sheffield chuckles “You are a fine one to talk. You speak of scoring riches, and yet you have come crawling back to snatch at our fortune”

“Lady Danbury is right-“Kate interrupts

“Believe me, I want nothing from you”

“Oh, you may not, but your daughters certainly does” She points at Edwina and i, we all look at her confused

“mama?” Edwina said confused

“The trust funds we have set up for her, the condition of which clearly states that she must marry a man of good English breeding to inherit. You did not think we would allow another generation to pollute the Sheffield name, did you?”

“What nonsense are you sayi-“ I say angrily

“Oh shut up child, you are the least person to talk seeing as it does not concern you, you are not marrying anyone of English nobility” I furrowed my eyebrows

“Deedee, what are they talking about?” Edwina asks Kate

“What have you done?” Mama snaps

“Anthony, did you know about this?” Lady Bridgerton questions

“I shall explain everything” Kate tells us

“I see this one has inherited your penchant for avoiding the truth, honestly dear, are you even raising your daughters right? Seems Edwina is the only pride of the family. The eldest one, I am not even going to bother saying anything. The second? Has the character of the first, a disappointment, does not even have one single proposal from a gentleman, and was not named the incomparable, which I can see why as Edwina is more prett-“

“That is enough!” Anthony exclaims furiously, Lady Sheffield quiets down “I can only think you’ve been exiled from good society because of your deficient manners rather than any other sin. Since the moment you arrived, you have failed to show the proper respect for the Sharma family, and I will not stand for it.”

“I declare-“

“I will not stand for it!” Anthony repeats “Lady Mary has done admirably in raising her daughters. They are intelligent, kind, loyal women and a credit to both their parents” He stares at me

“And since you clearly do not wish to jeopardize your social standing by associating with such company, I suggest you do not. You may leave at once!” he throws his napkin at the table and stands up

“You cannot be serious!”

“Please be kind to send for Lord and Lady Sheffield’s carriage, they can wait outside, and do not trouble yourselves for an invitation for the wedding, for you shall not receive one”

“This is beyond the pale, and if you think you shall inherit a single sovereign now, you are solely mistaken” Lord Sheffield says as he takes his leave

Leaving us all confused and betrayed by Kate’s actions at the table

“Lord and Lady Bridgerton, I must apologize-“

“We should take our leave” Anthony interrupts mama

“Thank you for the evening, Lady Danbury, it was quite enlightening ”

“My lord-“ Edwina stands up

“Good evening” he walks away

“Y/n, do something” Edwina begs me “Anything, he will listen to you” I look at her unsure before I go after the Viscount

“Lord Bridgerton!” I call out desperate “Lord Bridgerton, I beg a word!” he stops

“We must be going”

“please”

“Mother, I shall meet you at the house” Lady Bridgerton nodded and walked off

I looked around and walked into a room, Anthony following behind.

“You must know, neither Edwina or I knew about what Kate did, coming to England, finding ourselves a match, we had no idea, you cannot be angry at her” I plead

“I am not, I take it both of you were in the dark about your sisters schemes”

“I am sure Kate did not mean any harm, she is not like that, she only wishes the best for us” I cut in

“I take it there’ll be no dowry now that the Sheffield’s have withdrawn their support” I scoff

“You care about the dowry? I am quite certain it is because of what you just did, that the Sheffield’s withdrew it”

“It is regrettable, to be sure, but clearly Miss Edwina and I have both been misled, and it is best to call off this doomed engagement before it is the cause of any more strife”

“Of course, I would never besmirch, my mother and Lady Danbury will make a plan-“

“Anthony!” I looked at him as if he had gone crazy “What is wrong with you?”

“Why are you even suggesting this?” I ask “ Were you not the one who has been set on marrying Edwina, and now you intend to cast her?” He nodded his head angrily

“And do not say because of the dowry, you told me yourself that you had enough money of your own and did not care for something like a dowry” I scoff “So, tell me, what has she done?”

“She has done nothing, it is you. You have made this match impossible” he admits

“Me?! I have done nothing but he supportive of you both” I exclaim

“Supportive?” He huffs “Of course, you were being supportive when you put my hand on your bosoms, you were most definitely being supportive in that library when we almost-“

“I am leaving with Kate for India”

“And it is not far enough!” he stuns me into silence “Do you think that there is a corner of this earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment?”

“I am a gentleman, my father raised me to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment that I spend in your presence” my heart starts to race rapidly

“You are the bane of my existence, and the object of all my desires, night and day, I dream of you,” he walks closer to me “and what i- do you even know all the ways a lady can be seduced? The things I could teach you” his breath hits my face, his lips brushing mine

“Anthony” I whispered looking down at his lips “I did not ask for this, to have this feelings, for you. Hiding them from Edwina. Being driven to distraction every time you enter the room” he puts his hand on my cheek

“Then you agree, it is insupportable.”

“Impossible” his lips meet mine for a second before he pulls away, shaking his head. Tears start brimming in my eyes.

“If I wed your sister, it will bind me and you together for eternity and I will spend every day of my marriage wanting you, dreaming of you, dreading the day when my last thread of honor finally snaps.” He murmurs

“Is that the future that you want for us? For your sister? Because I do not,” he gets closer to me once again “So it is better that we call the engagement off, so as to not hurt her, and maybe, after some time, I can-“

“What is going on?!”

[milkbaer]

love to hate you | part 3

„Grateful about the invitation of the queen, they are however not so grateful about her plans.”

previous | masterlist | next

• Pairing: Prince Friedrich x Reader (Princess of Bavaria) • Word count: 4.6k • Warnings: nothing, just the usual

• A/N: Because I’m a total idiot & couldn’t resists … I decided to switch up the collage every 2 chapters or so. C: Hopefully you all enjoy reading part 3 as much I did writing it lol

 • Small dictionary: Bärli – a cute nickname, kinda a cute way to say bear Wundervoll – wonderful, lovely, delightful etc. Mein Prinz – my prince Einfach himmlisch – (prob not the best translation) simply heavenly, wonderful, divine … something is just so good that it’s like smth divine

  Dear Readers,

You might have heard so already, yet another prince has set foot on English shore. Traveling from the Alps, Karl of Bavaria attended Lady Danbury’s latest soirée. As This Author has heard, they both know each other from the prince’s time at Cambridge. But I fear that I must disappoint all ambitious mamas, having made plans to snatch the other prince. Your Highness has arrived with his wife and daughter, Marie and Y/N of Bavaria. And This Author must admit that amongst the ladies of the ton, the young princess felt like a fresh breath of air. With her gown she truly looked like an edelweiss in the alps. I might say she is able to compete with our Incomparable. But do not fret all my ambitious mamas, I can assure you that the reason for the travels is not the prospect of marriage. There is no intention in looking for a gentleman on the princess’ side. All debutantes must be delighted at that, but I am sure that some gentlemen might not. But who can tell the future? Certainly not This Author, I fear.

– Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers

“I see you’ve left quite the impression, my dear,” spoke the queen, addressing you, but not looking up from the paper she held. It wasn’t the first time that you dined with a queen, but breakfast felt a bit more private and intimate than a banquet. Honestly, Queen Charlotte made you a bit nervous; you didn’t know her, and her palace was enormous and made you feel like you were in a different time. And she intimidated you, a lot. You only knew her for some hours and yet you could tell that she was the queen of giving looks.  You were unable to read the queen, maybe she was judging you for something or maybe not. You couldn’t tell.

“Yes? Who did I impress?” you asked, clueless, having no idea who she was referring to. Who could you have impressed that the queen was so delighted?

“Lady Whistledown.” Friedrich’s voice caught you off guard, he hadn’t spoken to you all morning, except for a curt ‘Good Morning’. Even now he wasn’t looking up from his plate. Instead, he shoved some scrambled egg into his mouth. “The paper my aunt is reading.”

Your eyes wandered back to the queen. Indeed, she was still focused on the small, white rectangle in her hand. You wouldn’t be too sure, but she hadn’t looked up from it once. Which means, that this paper must be really good. “Pardon, Your Majesty, but when you’re done reading Lady Whistledown could you lend it to me? I would love to read it too.”

For the first time Queen Charlotte’s eyes detached from the paper and with a quirked brow she looked at you. Was she sizing you up? Was she judging you? Had it been wrong from you to ask for it? To your relief her face turned into a small, amusing smile. “Of course, my dear. You can have it when I’m done.”

The queen was right, this paper was good! You couldn’t connect any of the names to a human being and yet you couldn’t stop reading it. Once you’d knew who this Lady Whistledown was referring to, it would be even better. But you already felt bad for the poor Miss Featherington.

Queen Charlotte watched with pursed lips how you soaked up the gossip of the ton. Solely by your wide, excited but nosy eyes could she, and honestly everyone else, see how much you enjoyed the rag. But the queen wasn’t much interesting in your reading habits. Her royal majesty couldn’t get the words, the praise of the anonymous writer out of her head.

I might say she is able to compete with our Incomparable.

She watched you precisely, examining you from head to toe – or since you were all sitting, your bust. Engrossed by the gossip rag you didn’t notice her sharp, hawk like gaze on you, watching you closely. Nor did anyone else at the table. Friedrich was too occupied by his breakfast, mostly a way to ignore you, and your parents were too engrossed by everything else, the breakfast, the interior.

The queen squinted her eyes, as if that allowed her to see sharp and more of you. She deeply disliked being in the wrong and she counted, she bet on Daphne. But whoever Lady Whistledown was, she was right. You could compete with Daphne, easily. You were a princess after all, nurtured to be flawless. Her sharp eyes moved to her nephew.

She chose Daphne.

You were a princess; you weren’t participating in this game.

She wished, no wanted Friedrich to find his match in Daphne.

The Queen was never wrong.

But …

Everyone likes an interesting season, don’t they?

“Say, how do you know each other?” she asked, leaning back into her chair.

“Oh, they know each other since childhood,” Marie answered. Neither you nor Friedrich were listening. You were too focused on people you didn’t know, and your own appearance, and Friedrich was too focused on ignoring you, blending out as much as possible.

The queen pursed her lips, brooding something under that massive wig of hers. “I see.”

While reading a column about yet another unknown girl, your eyes landed on Friedrich’s name. Curious on what this lady had to say about him, and the girl, you read every line precisely. But it was hardly about him, more about a girl named Daphne and that she has caught his attention. Bridgerton … Daphne … the names sounded familiar, but you couldn’t associate a face to them.

“Who is Miss Daphne Bridgerton?” you asked all sudden. At the mention of Daphne’s name Friedrich looked up, even though he swore he’d never react in any way to your voice again.

Friedrich stared at you in annoyance and disbelief. “Are you joking? You met her at the soirée.”

“Well, I met quite a few people. I can’t remember everyone.” He didn’t know why but your ignorance about Daphne irritated, no, angered him. How could you not know her?

“Oh, Bärli,” your mother Marie stated, knowing of your difficulties. “Reddish hair, blue dress. I think she was with this one duke.”

At the mention of a certainduke the queen and Friedrich frowned.

“Oh! The one with the bangs?” you asked, mimicking Daphne’s look with your index fingers. Marie nodded, it was exactly the one with the devil, or bee antenna, like bangs. Friedrich groaned in annoyance, he couldn’t cut off the feeling that you were purposely mocking her, and he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t let you mock poor Daphne. “Why are you even asking?”

“Oh, well.” You held up Lady Whistledown. “The lady is writing about her, the duke and you. Something about marriage. – I was just curious, that’s why I’m asking.”

“Lucky Daphne, being courted by a duke and a prince.” You sighed, maybe a bit too melodramatic.

They both frowned even more. Being maybe enamoured or well, , interested in Miss Bridgerton Friedrich didn’t like listening to stories about her and the duke. As a prince he could easily marry her, but he wasn’t one who used his title for love. And the queen disliked being in the wrong, even though she liked her season interesting.

After a moment of silence and peace, the topic of Lady Whistledown and Daphne long died down, Queen Charlotte approached you again. “Say, my dear. How do you like London so far?”

“Sadly, I haven’t seen much of it yet, your Majesty. But it is a wonderful city.”

Marie giggled. “Oh, I assure you, that’s not even all. She was thrilled when we arrived in London. Oh, you must have seen her when we reached Dover!”

Your mama could chatter for hours, especially when the topic were her children. Like so often, when she got caught in her flood of words, you tuned her out and focused on something else. No one seemed to listen to Marie’s rant, expect for the queen maybe, who nodded along with pursed lips. But she looked deeply in thought, like she was scheming something.

“Friedrich,” Queen Charlotte said, eying her nephew sharply. “Why don’t you show our guest around Town? Y/N hasn’t seen it yet and it would be a shame, if she left without seeing its splendour.”

Hearing her words, you couldn’t help yourself but stare at Friedrich in shock. He should be your tour guide? Him? Your papa knew London too, he could do the exact same job.

Friedrich didn’t look as appalled, but he wasn’t so fond of the idea either. His day could be spent with better activities, and people.

“That would be splendid, your Majesty,” you uttered. “But I am sure, that Friedrich’s schedule is filled to the brim.”

“No. – Actually, he has nothing planned,” she stated. “Or am I mistaken, Friedrich? As far as I know, Miss Bridgerton is not in town today.”

He gritted his teeth, wishing it was different. “No, you’re right, she is out with her family. – But I thought about riding …”

She turned back to you, a satisfied, even victorious, smile adorning her face. “Well, my nephew has nothing planned. He will gladly show you around London.”

“B-but what about a chaperone? I mean, even if we have guards accompany us, it would be unproper for us to go alone!” you spluttered, feeling like eight again, when Franziska and you had accidentally knocked over an old Meissen vase and tried to blame Maxi for it.

Sadly, all sucked up in the moment, you had forgotten that you were visiting London with your parents. “Bärli, mein Dummerchen, I will be your chaperone,” Marie chirped. “I, too, would like to see London.”

“Wundervoll…” Friedrich groaned under his breath, resisting the urge to ran his hands over his face and through his hair. His day was ruined.

“Wonderful!” exclaimed the queen, sounding very delighted, too delighted even. “Then it’s all settled.”

Standing in the hall all dressed up in a walking dress and matching pelisse, waiting for Friedrich and your mama to arrive, you were fuming. You couldn’t believe that your planless day had been ruined like that. No activity was pleasant as long god damn Friedrich of Prussia attended to it. And when he finally arrived, dressed in his usual boring Prussian-blue uniform, you glared at him.

No.

You threw daggers at him.

Friedrich wasn’t excited either but never had he seen you in such a sour mood, not since your childhood. And when he saw you, all fuming and mad, glaring at him dangerously, he gulped. Never had he seen you look so threatening.

Stomping your way over to him, you jabbed your finger into his chest. “This is all your fault!”

Already fed up with your attitude Friedrich grabbed your finger, forcefully, and pulled you towards him, chests almost touching. He hadn’t been that close to you since your last dance. Under normal circumstances the small distance of our bodies would irritate you, but now, all filled with your anger and other unpleasant emotions you didn’t even noticed.

“It’s not and you know it,” he snarled angrily, tightening his grip on your wrist. He was so incredibly close that you could feel his breath faintly brushing the tip of your nose and cheeks..

Huffing in anger was all you did, not knowing what to retort to that. He was right and you knew it. But you never would admit it, you were far too mad at him and the whole situation. It was obvious that none of you liked the current situation and yet he did nothing to writhe you out of it.

In anger you managed to forcefully twist and pull your hand out of his grasp. Tumbling back, you gripped, and caressed your tormented wrist with a hiss. He was stronger than you remembered.

“You could have called it off,” you hissed, still rubbing your wrist. “You men always have something important to do, don’t you?”

“I can’t! I gave her my word!” He didn’t. But he was smart enough to not objecting a queen, especially if she was the sister of his mother. It was better to be done with it quickly. Who even said that he had to spend the whole day with you and your mother?

Again, you huffed, and he felt it was the only thing you did now, but it was amazingly annoying. “Of course, you did,” you scoffed, glaring at him.

Wanting to retort to that, saying anything to have the last word, Friedrich opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Yes, he always kept his words but now he was lost of them. He wanted to throw them against your head, coaxing out a reaction, another one of your vexed faces. But he couldn’t. And when his brain finally put some words together, he had to shut it because he could hear Princess Marie approaching. Friedrich had stood there like a fool, like a damn fool and giving by your haughty, mocking grin you knew. You enjoyed it, took pleasure in seeing him like that.

. . .

It was difficult to stroll around London, sharing a coach and sidewalk, pretending not to love the idea to throttle each other. Especially accompanied by a chaperone that was your mother, who not only smiled delightful at the sight of Mayfair, Belgravia and other districts but also at the enforced couple across her. Gladly you would have loved to kick his shins multiple times but not with your mama’s eyes on you.

Briefly Friedrich had shown you Hyde Park, well you drove past it and he told you it was, well, a large park, where people did different activities. He had told Marie, not you, that he sometimes rode through it. Then you stopped at a huge, impressive building called Somerset House. Having been told that inside was a huge art gallery, walls literally painted with art from the ceiling to the floor, Marie and you wanted to visit it immediately. But Friedrich had to disappoint you. It wasn’t like a public museum and only shared its extraordinary art collection with the ton on special dates. Of course he didn’t told you, that as members of royalty, and friends and guests of the queen, you didn’t have to wait for a special occasion to visit. Friedrich wasn’t stupid and certainly not keen to spending hours with you alone, ignoring chaperone and guards, between art hung walls. But he was nice enough to inform you, that Somerset House would open its doors soon enough to celebrate its new wing.

And now you were here, strolling through the streets of Mayfair, or another rich part of Town, accompanied by guards and your dear mama. If the members of the tons, and other pedestrians, haven’t noticed prince and princess by themselves, they sure would do now with their entourage.

Carefully your hand lingered on his arm, you weren’t keen on touching it. You had tried to make Friedrich stumble several times, without success, it was difficult to hit his heels when you had to walk beside him. “You can touch me, you know?” Friedrich grumbled, mentally groaning about his own words. But you looked absolutely ridiculous with your hand not touching him even the slightest.

“My uniform is freshly cleaned and you’re just making a fool out of yourself,” he whispered to you, clearly annoyed by your antics. Quickly he regretted his words, when your hand laid down on his arms, pressing your fingers in it with as much pressure as possible. His uniform sleeve was sturdy enough to caught much of your force and yet it felt uncomfortable enough.

“You’re ridiculous!” He gritted his teeth, cerulean eyes glaring at you.

You smiled innocently at him, fluttering your lashes, but he could see the scorn in your face. “Oh, why? I’m just holding onto you with my dear life, mein Prinz.”

Absolutely flabbergasted did he look at you. That was the most disgusting and confusing thing that has ever left your mouth. It had completely thrown him off the tracks. You were unable to call him your Highness but were now calling him your prince? Yours? He was shocked, to say at least, unable to form any words in response. His brain was wiped out. He felt like a fool and with his lips parted, but no words passing through, he also looked like one. And you were absolutely enjoying it. You were bathing in this moment, enjoying his response proudly.

“Oh, what’s this?” you pulled at his arm and nodded towards a whitewashed building. Gentlemen, young and old, were streaming in and out, but looking at the walls it told you nothing. Some young gentlemen, bachelors perhaps, looked rather dashing, you had to admit.

“Can we go in there?” You asked, your eyes following a charming young man with fluffy brunette curls. Having been annoyed by your constant pulling and asking Friedrich now stared at you like you had two heads. As if you were a maniac … but he wouldn’t be surprised if you truly were on.

“No.”

“And why is that?”

Scoffing at your objection he rolled his eyes in annoyance. You were really testing him today. “Because my dear Y/N,” he stated, sounding like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and it was. “This is a Gentlemen’s club, and you are a woman.”

With wide eyes you starred at the white house. Well, this explained all the gentlemen, and no gentlewoman, swarming in and out of the building. “Oh.”

After the failed attempt of storming a gentlemen’s club, chasing mindless after a curly dandy, the tour around Town was a bit … uneventful. Friedrich showed you around Mayfair, mostly, briefly hinting at shops, cafés and market stalls. It wasn’t like London was boring, but Friedrich made sure to keep everything brief and quick. Not that you were keen on spending your day with him. But his rushed manners annoyed you, a lot. Since the club he was prone to end this as fast as possible.

“Oh! Is that a modiste?” Marie asked joyfully, like the guards she was a good distance behind you. Following her pointed finger, you too saw the small looking shop, all adorned in soft colours. Friedrich sighed, quickly reading the words on the signs above the door. Modiste. It was really a dressmaker…

“Yes, I think so,” was all he said, praying that you two wouldn’t want to go in there.

“Excellent!” Marie exclaimed. “Is she good? Do you know that Friedrich?”

Mentally he groaned, physically he only sighed. “Uh, pardon me.”

“Oh right! I forgot, men don’t go to the modiste,” she giggled.

“Explains why you are always wearing the same blue uniform,” you muttered, unable to hide your grin. You knew that men went to a tailor instead, but you couldn’t waste this opportunity.

He really held the desire to accidentally push you into a muddy puddle, like he did when he was eight or nine years of age. Instead of following his desire he smiled sweetly at Marie.

“Oh, I bet she’s good, but a princess like you surely doesn’t need to visit a local modiste..”

Clearly Friedrich had enough of playing escort for you and if you two would ever decide to visit the modiste he just hoped that you wouldn’t take him with you. Strolling around Town with you, and your death-like grip on his arm, was barely enough for him to handle. You were really testing him and his patience. But as long as Princess Marie was in reach, he was willing to keep up the last crumbles of his peaceful façade.

Almost desperately the prince wished for the day to end.

You, however, thought differently. While you were as much thrilled as he was about spending the day together, you did not like the way he treated you, dragging you around London like a child. Maybe he deserved some more time with you, and sometimes you had to make sacrifices yourself.

Rushing, yet again, through the streets, not listening to Friedrich’s curt explanations, your eyes fell on another whitewashed house. Its windows were rimmed white, and the door was lined with little trees cut into a ball. Different to the gentlemen’s club it had a very telling sign above its entrance.

“Oh! Is that a tea shop?” you asked him, despite already knowing what it was.

Friedrich nodded to that. “I see you can read.”

Feeling quite satisfied with his answer, at least you had rolled your eyes, he tugged you arm to move on. But you kept your feet rooted on the ground. Annoyed he pulled some more until your steal-like fingers left him. “Stop it,” you said. “I would like to go in there.”

Friedrich groaned annoyed, having some tea with you was the least thing he wanted to do. “Come on, we’ve to go.”

“No!”

“We’re not drinking tea, stop making a fuss,” he hissed, not liking that more people stared at you when you rose your voice. As a prince he was used to the stares of civilians, people stopped and stared whenever a member of royalty walked among them. And they were hard not to see with guards following their every step. But being the centre of attention because of a dispute was different.

“I am not fussing!”

“Yes, you are.”

Huffing in anger, he had already surpassed your state of annoyance with his attitude, you were looking for you last straw. Friedrich might be a prince, but he wasn’t your papa, and you would certainly not let him patronise you. He couldn’t forbid you some cup of tea.

“Mama?” you turned to Marie, who’s interest was piqued immediately. “The whole Town tour is a bit long, isn’t it? Quite tiring I would say. A stop at the tea shop doesn’t sound so bad, don’t you think, Mama?”

Friedrich couldn’t believe his ears. You really had picked that card?

For mere seconds Marie seemed to consider your words if the points you made were valid enough for visiting a tea shop. However, you knew your mother the best. You knew when you’d point out the tea shop and refreshments your mama would agree. Marie never refused the chance of good pastries. “Yes, it is a bit tiring,” she nodded. “I have to admit, I do feel quite thirsty. And the shop looks quite lovely…”

“So do I, Mama.”

“Friedrich, don’t you wish for some tea? You must be exhausted too.” The way Marie smiled at him he would feel more than bad to decline her offer. Frustrated he bit his lips knowing his afternoon was sealed. Refusing you, and only you, wasn’t difficult. But refusing Princess Marie and you? He could hardly do it, especially since your mother hold a kind character. It wasn’t her fault that she gave birth to a malicious witch.

Having tea at a tea shop was different than he had expected, mostly because Friedrich and you weren’t sipping tea but eating ice and pastries instead. Well, scones and macarons surely weren’t surprising for having tea but flavoured ice? When he thought about it, he hadn’t had ice for ages. Maybe he should’ve gone to Gunter’s Tea Shop much, much earlier. He should take Daphne here, she’d love it.

“Mama, are you sure that you don’t want any? The ginger ice cream tastes amazing.”

Nipping at her cup of tea Marie smiled and shook slightly her head. “Thank you, Bärli. But I’m happy with tea and biscuits.”

To be fair, their pastries, especially the macarons were as good as the sorbet. Scooping up some more ginger sorbet you enjoyed its cool and sweet, and slight sour, taste with a delightful hum. It felt like eating angels’ dish. Adding a sweet raspberry macaron made it even better. Right now, you definitely were in heaven.

“Einfach himmlisch,” you sighed over a new scoop of ice cream. In Friedrich’s ears your overjoyed sounds were annoying but sadly also distracting. His plan was simply to ignore you until you three were done with your sweet break. But with every sound you made, and you made a lot, all gushing over Gunter’s sweets, his eyes shot to you. It was only brief, yet distracting and annoying.

Devouring delicious ice cream and pastries apparently made you so happy, you looked like a completely different person to him. More at ease, less pugnacious and … he hated to admit it, but you looked kind and lovely.

“Well, it’s good but not that good,” he grumbled, even though he thought of it as delicious as well, and immediately earned a light kick, with greetings from you. He hissed at the brief but sharp pain. Forget nice and lovely, your looks were some kind of ruse or trap to lure in the innocent to torture them with your wickedness.

But Friedrich made the mistake to look at you. It was meant as a glare, flashing you a grim look of anger, but when he saw you all innocent, and ravished by the simple taste of ice cream, he couldn’t stay mad with you. Usually, he’d love to kick you back or do anything else to repay you but now … all desire for revenge was gone.

Hm, that was really weird.

Must be the light and the whole café itself.

Foremost you sat at a very unfortunate spot, right at the window and near a shiny tray of petit fours, scones and macarons. The pastries didn’t do much to you, or him. But he had to admit that your pelisse worked perfectly well with the shop’s colours. You looked like you belonged here, which was only troubling him slightly. But the window … it must be the window. The noonday sun shone right at you, softened by the white curtains of Gunter’s. It made your hair shone bright and warm, as did your skin, especially your cheeks. You were glowing and blessed with the divine sweet taste of sherbet, looking scarily peaceful, content, and lovely, you looked like a painting that belonged to the national gallery. Daphne had been right you looked lovely.

Friedrich stopped. Had he just thought that you looked lovely? Did he just compare your looks to art? No, he couldn’t – he didn’t. You must have bewitched him with a wicked spell or something, or was this a ruse to confuse his poor mind and trick him? It must be. Knowing you the lady sitting in front of him wasn’t you, she was far too calm for that. You were two separate persons.

But your cheeks looked so warm and soft …

“Friedrich, is everything all right? Your ice is melting,” asked Marie, slightly worrying about the young prince. He hadn’t noticed that he was staring at you, very noticeable. For how long had he looked at you, admiring your changes in look?

Clearing his throat, he smiled at your mother, reassuring her that everything is alright, hoping that she didn’t noticed him starring at her daughter.

“Yes, I was just think– ,” Friedrich winced and whimpered faintly, but noticeable. With a pleased sly smile, you enjoyed another scoop. He needed some time to compose himself from your shoes, you had managed to hit the exact same spot as last time. “I was just thinking. Everything’s good.”

Except for the throbbing pain in his shin, everything was good. It was clearly that his eyes and mind had fooled him, because now he knew that you were not merely a wicked, malicious witch. Minutes ago, you had been a mermaid but you were a siren nonetheless, tricking him with your calmness into believed safety only to torment his leg yet again.

 taglist: @netflixton @onlymexsarah @awesomebooklover17 @verygardenerbanana @bxnnywatts  @freyagallileaevans​ @bicyhot1​

if you want to be tagged as well, let me know :)

[forzalando]

The Perfect Arrangement | George Weasley | Pt. 1

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader AU: Bridgerton!AU Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: Bridgerton spoilers, mentions of alcohol

Summary: As a woman in the early 19th century, you’ve been told all your life that marriage should be your ultimate goal, however, you do not share that sentiment. When the insufferable George Weasley devises a plan that may solve your problems, how can you say no?

A/N: hi friends! this will be a multipart (probably 3-4 parts) George fic inspired by Bridgerton. i’m so excited for it and i hope you all are too :) thank you for reading!

The start of the social season had been, as you had expected, the topic of conversation around the ton for the past few weeks. It was impossible to go anywhere without hearing whispers of who would snag an engagement in the next few months.

Particularly, people had been interested in who the Queen would declare the “diamond of the season”. Your mother was positively convinced it would be you, but you had other plans in mind for your life other than parties and dresses and loveless marriage. However, when the Queen took one look upon your face, she quickly declared you incomparable, as she had done the same for Daphne Bridgerton, now the Duchess, a few years prior, and your fate was sealed.

As a member of the distinguished and esteemed Y/L/N family, and as the eldest daughter, you had a trivial, yet necessary and important role to play, even if you longed to free yourself from it. Your mother and father, as wonderful as they might be, had high expectations for you, and you would not and could not let them down.

Your mother fluffed your hair and primped your dress in preparation of the Danbury Ball, admiring you fondly and gushing about how beautiful you looked.

“Maybe your luck will be as wonderful as the Duchess, her love match was indeed unprecedented but oh so joyous. Do you think your fortune might align with hers, dear?”

“Mama,” you sighed. “I have no interest in a life like the Duchess’s. All the parties, teas, and properness. Besides, there isn’t another Duke for me to marry.”

“I did not mean that you would have to marry a Duke to share her fate; only that you may marry for love.”

You huffed as you turned away from the mirror. In truth, you had no interest in marrying for love, or marrying at all for that matter, but the duty of an eldest daughter was set in stone.

All too soon, you arrived at the Lady Danbury’s spectacular first ball of the season; the sea of gowns and tailored coats causing a queasy feeling to settle in your stomach, and you wished with all your might that anything at all would ruin the festivities.

A glass of champagne was placed in your grasp and you let your eyes wander around the room; Lady Eloise Bridgerton, a close friend of yours, donned a similar look on her face though her mother enthusiastically tried to get her to waltz across the dance floor.

Glancing to your left, you noticed Lord Farley, a rather grotesque older man, eyeing you up and down; his beady eyes causing the queasy feeling to return and for your feet to take off in what could almost be considered a sprint.

When he was no longer in your line of sight, you began to slow down your gait, but a shoulder roughly bumped into yours and an unattractive yelp escaped your lips.

The unmistakable chuckle that followed your outburst made you groan due to your detestation of the man you knew you had bumped into.

Lord George Weasley; a man, nay, a boy, with hair of fire and a wit to match. You had known him for years as you were the same age and his sister Ginevra was the best of friends with your younger sister.

“I want to believe, Miss Y/L/N, that you would not take such drastic measures to capture my attention, but I must say I am flattered nonetheless,” George teased, his hand reaching out to steady you as you recovered from the collision.

“Mr. Weasley, I believe you to know me better than that,” you spoke with gritted teeth as you swatted his hand away. “Besides, there are plenty of young women here that would kiss the ground you walk on. Might you bother them instead?”

“Ah, but where is the fun in that? I’ve noticed that you still have room on your dance card?”

“I always have room left on my dance card.”

You tried to step around George and escape his company, but his impossible height made it so easy for him to evade your attempts.

“Is that by choice or because you’re just so pleasant to spend time with?” he inquired with a smirk.

“Suppose a bit of both. Now, if you would be so kind, I’m quite parched and would love another glass of champagne.”

“Perfect, I shall accompany you.”

George Weasley, you surmised very early on, was nothing but a flirt. You wouldn’t go so far as to call him a rake, because as far as you knew he was an honorable man, but he was also most intolerable with his boyish charm, sense of humor, beautiful eyes…

Yes, you were quite sure that he was entirely intolerable.

“Have you told your mother you have no interest in procuring a husband, yet?” he mused, breaking you out of your trance as he carefully handed you a glass of champagne.

“Don’t call it procuring as if it’s a transaction. And no, I haven’t. Do you think I’d be standing here alive if I had?”

“Good point,” George hummed as his eyes surveyed the room, no doubt searching for the next woman so unlucky enough to be graced with his presence.

“How is your family?” you asked as you sipped on your flute of bubbling liquid.

“They’re doing well, thank you for asking. Work has been a bit hard on Dad but – ”

Before George could finish, a man approached you and bowed; taking the hand not holding the champagne flute and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Miss Y/L/N, would you like to join me for a dance?”

You noticed George looking on angrily at the sight before him, probably because his ego couldn’t take the interruption.

“I’m flattered, Lord Rainier? I believe?” When you received no objections, you continued. “As I was saying, I’m flattered by your offer but I simply must decline. I am feeling a bit ill and all that spinning might make me sick.”

“Yes, yes, of course, Miss Y/L/N. Perhaps another time?”

You gave him a small, soft smile and let out a sigh of relief when he walked away. Turning back to George, you urged him to continue. While you held him in contempt, or so you told yourself, you did enjoy his family as they were all simply lovely.

“You were saying, George?”

“Right, work has been a bit hard on Dad, after his accident a few months ago. He’s been doing better but Charlie had to take a break from his travels to come home and help out since he’s the eldest. Fred and Angelina are expecting again, if you haven’t heard. They’re hoping for a girl this time.”

“Maybe if you were more like your brother you’d be married and having children by now,” you teased.

He gasped and clutched his hand over his heart, drawing the attention of anyone near.

“You wound me, Y/N.”

Much to your dismay, you laughed at his actions, devastated that you gave him the satisfaction of knowing he was entertaining you. However, the moment was short lived as another man interrupted your conversation.

“Miss Y/N, I must say you are looking exquisite this evening. It would be a shame for your dress not to take a twirl on the dance floor. Might I accompany you?”

You tried not to groan when you noticed a line forming behind the man currently asking for a dance.

“Actually, Lord Beverly, I’m feeling a bit warm. I was just about to go outside for some fresh air.”

“I shall accompany you, then.”

“Without a chaperone? Goodness, no, please find another young lady to dance with. There are certainly many that would be delighted at the chance.”

You looked around Lord Beverly to see at least four other men waiting for their chance to ask you for a dance, and the thought of making up more excuses made your head spin. You graciously bid Lord Beverly a good evening, and turned on your heel towards the nearest exit.

In your haste, you did not notice George following you into the gardens.

“Well, you sure like to let them down easy,” he joked.

“George!” you cried. “We can’t be seen alone, are you daft? Trying to ruin me and my family?”

“Calm yourself, my Mother is just right there.”

You looked a bit to George’s left and saw his wonderful mother keeping a careful eye on the two of you, graciously leaving the attention of her husband to ensure that none would suspect foolery between you and George.

“As I was saying, it’s awfully obvious that you do not want any man to court you. Your mother will realize well and soon enough of your…aversion to marriage.”

“The only reason you know that is because you eavesdropped on a conversation I had with Eloise. But yes, I have no desire to marry, and I’m quite certain I never will. I’ll have to fight off suitors and think of a million excuses until I’m considered a spinster and men no longer want me.”

Silence enveloped you both as a tear slid down your cheek. You hastily wiped it away, hoping that George hadn’t seen, but of course, you were not so lucky.

“Is the idea of marriage really that upsetting to you, Y/N?”

“All those men, all they want is a woman to wear on their arm and to give them children. That’s what a woman’s life is in marriage. A husband doesn’t care about his wife’s passions, desires, intellect, among other things, and I can’t bring myself to entertain the idea of a life that has no room for my happiness.”

George was quiet; pondering your response and your feelings, when he was suddenly struck with the most brilliant of ideas.

You see, Mr. George Weasley was in love with Miss Y/N Y/L/N, has been for several years in fact. He couldn’t tell you exactly when or why, but he knew that the fluttering in his chest and the way his whole world became brighter when she entered a room meant that Y/N was more than just someone to engage in friendly banter with.

“I’ve thought of an idea,” George muttered, piquing your interest.

“Whatever might it be, Mr. Weasley?”

“Your…situation, can only go away if men were to believe you were taken, correct?”

“Yes, I suppose, only I can’t fool them into thinking that. It would become quite suspicious when I’m seen alone everywhere. And, there’s no way I could ever fool my parents.”

“Except you wouldn’t be alone, you’d have me!”

“I don’t believe I’m following your idea, George.”

“Marry me.”

You choked and sputtered on your own spit, unable to take a breath through your coughs and gasps. George’s hands flew to your shoulders to steady you, helping you to breathe easier and calm yourself down.

“George, you must be joking,” you said quietly.

“I am as deadly serious as I could ever be. Not a real marriage, of course. Real in every sense of the word in terms of legality, but not real as in, well, us together. I’ll spend this social season courting you, and at the end of the season I’ll propose. We’ll get married in a few months’ time, and then we can travel the world, doing whatever our hearts desire.”

“Why on earth would you want to marry me?”

“It’s quite simple. You need to get the eligible bachelors of the ton to leave you alone and you never want to marry because your husband would restrict your freedoms. I, as your husband, wouldn’t dare. You’re not entirely awful, I suppose there are far worse people to spend my life with, even if you utterly despise me, and marriage, real marriage, isn’t something I want either.”

You looked at him quizzically, searching for signs that he’d had far too much champagne or had gone completely mad in the head, but he looked right as rain, and your mind was spinning.

“I find it hard to believe you do not want to marry, after all the times you’ve said you cannot wait to marry the woman you love.”

“Honestly, the woman I love is….unattainable, I’ll put it that way. I won’t ever love anyone but her. I’m also waiting for an answer, it’s not every day you have to have a discussion after a proposal.”

“You’re sure this will work, Mr. Weasley?”

“How hard can it be to pretend to be in love with a woman as beautiful as you?”

“I always knew you were a flirt, but God, do you lay it on thick.”

George looked at you expectantly, almost a glimmer of hope is his eye, but as quickly as you thought you’d noticed it, he looked away.

“My answer is yes, George. Let’s fool the ton, our families, court, get married, and then travel the world platonically.”

“That sounds like the perfect arrangement, darling.”

@theweasleyslut @vivacesole @weasleyclaw @nuttytani-reblogs @theweasleysredhair @hufflepuffbaby9 @theboywhocriedlupin @swellwriting @fortisfiliae @thoseofgreatambition @woakiees @wildfire-whizbangs @gcdric

please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist! 

[michwritesstuff]

She’s Gonna Save Me (Bridgerton: Benedict Bridgerton)

this is my first ever bridgerton fic! i’ve had such a writer’s block and post grad has been so difficult but listening to music and reading other writers’ works has me feeling inspired! so enjoy my first story in months and first of the new year :)

pairing: female reader (she/her) x Benedict Bridgerton reader x Colin Bridgerton (platonic!)

summary: Benedict contemplates a life pursuing art and living outside the expectations of his family and society. Does he find a wife and settle down or live freely? What happens when he meets someone who can offer him the best of both worlds?

notes/warnings: mention of nudity, alcohol consumption, activities that can be witnessed at Sir Granville’s scandalous studio saoirees…

word count: 2.4k

As the second eldest Bridgerton boy, Benedict never found himself extremely pressured by the standards and expectations of society. Those responsibilities were entrusted upon his brother, Anthony, the Viscount.

Benedict reserved himself to a more romantic life, preoccupied by his love and interest for art.

Attending every event of the season was merely a ploy to keep his mother happy and distracted from the fact that he had no true intention of courting any ladies.

He would drink, laugh, and dance the season away without ever calling on anyone.

Benedict believed that this season wouldn’t be any different.

******

When you first agreed to join your family friends across the Atlantic in London, you didn’t expect that you would be taking part in the ton’s social season.

As the youngest daughter, your brothers married with children and sisters off tending to their new husbands, your father didn’t feel the need to arrange a marriage for social or monetary gain.

Your family was well off in the states, your parents often described as ‘free spirits.’ They had always impressed upon you the importance of appreciating the beauty around you and romanticizing life.

With your mother’s passing, you decided to stay at home with your father, choosing to enjoy a quiet life in the country studying English literature.

Staying with Sir Henry Granville was beyond exciting and allowed you to interact and mingle with the more eclectic members of British society.

You had lasted all but a week before you were called upon by a Miss Lady Danbury.

She had stressed the importance of participating in the social season and the impending judgment of the ton and Queen if you did not participate.

While you never cared much for the opinion of others, you didn’t fancy the idea of being ogled every time you ventured into town.

******

“I heard she was rejected by every suitor.”

“She’s so ugly and unpleasant, a dowry wouldn’t even be worth it.”

“Apparently she’s slightly deformed.”

You couldn’t begin to believe the rumors circulating about you, the American.

You swore that the descriptions were ripped out of a storybook, describing some gremlin crawling from the depths of the earth.

Men and women alike had no problem spreading stories about the young lady joining them for the season.

Worst of all, none of them had even seen you yet. The modiste had made personal house calls, as requested by Lady Danbury.

Now you stood, in front of the carriage, at the first ball of the season, your debut.

You followed behind Sir Henry and Mary Granville, head held high and eyes straight forward as you waded through the ballroom towards Lady Danbury and the Queen.

You heard the whispers and felt the stares as you stood before the queen.

With one leg behind the other and your arms laid at your side, you gently bent your knee and curtsied before her.

She gave you a once over before bowing her head back, a silent approval.

Moving out of the way, you stood at the edge of the dance floor as Lady Danbury approached.

“Miss y/l/n, I do hope you don’t mind that I have taken the liberty of securing you a few gentlemen to fill out your dance card.”

“I expect nothing less from you, Lady Danbury” you smiled back, a teasing tone in your voice.

Your sarcasm and apprehension towards the season had not gone unnoticed by Lady Danbury.

She quite admired your wit and sharp mind, and more than anything, enjoyed the challenge.

******

You were now on your 4th dance of the night; your feet were hurting, and you wanted nothing more than to be curled up with a book.

Fortunately, your current dance partner was not completely awful and was actually quite charming.

Colin Bridgerton.

You had met him once before, in passing, when Lady Danbury had brought you to meet his mother, Violet, and sister, Daphne.

 Apparently, Daphne had been named the Diamond of the season in her first season out on society and married a Duke.

His younger sister, Eloise, was preparing for her first season as well.

However, through your brief encounter with Eloise she did not seem as happy with the matter as her sister and mother were.

You had a feeling she would be a good person to befriend.

“Tell me about yourself Miss y/l/n” Colin inquired.

“Y/N,” you quickly corrected.

“Just Y/N is fine,” you smiled slightly.

“Well Y/N, how are you finding London and the beginning of the season?”

“London, well its quite beautiful. There is so much art, and history, and the architecture is amazing. Truly, I wouldn’t mind getting lost here. And well…this—” you paused, glancing around the ball at all the young women around you.

“May I be frank?” you asked, Colin’s eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Of course, Miss Y/N”

“I slightly detest all of this, my feet hurt, and I’ve been dancing for quite too long. Why would I want to marry someone I’ve met one time?”

Colin was slightly taken aback before grinning wildly.

“You remind me of my sister Eloise,” he stated.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I quite liked her,” you grinned back.

As the dance ended you curtsied before Colin as he bowed before you.

“I hope you find the person you’re looking for Y/N, but I have a feeling you don’t need all of this to do so.”

You smiled widely and slightly nodded before following him off the dance floor.

“I’ll grab us a drink,” he said before walking away. Your eyes followed his back for a few seconds before scanning the room.

They quickly landed on two men whispering in the corner.

The slightly shorter one had massive sideburns and a quizzical look that seemed as if it must be permanently etched onto his face. The other man had a certain air about him.

Even from across the room his light-colored eyes had a shine in them.

Colin returned; you thanked him before looking to the corner again. This time the slightly taller one had caught your gaze and lifted his eyes to meet yours. You felt your face flush and quickly turned your head.

“Colin?”

“Yes?”

“Who are those two men in the corner?”

Colin looked up to see his brothers in the corner looking at him inquisitively.

“Oh, those two? You don’t want to be near the likes of them. Poorly mannered and when they were younger, they would wet the bed for years well beyond what was normal.”

You were following along for a while until that last part.

You gave Colin a quick look to see if he was being serious.

His mouth remained flat and tight-lipped for a few mere seconds before letting through a boisterous laugh.

“My apologies Y/N, those are my brothers.”

Your eyes widened at the confession.

“Your brothers?”

“Yes, lets introduce you,” he stated, beginning to pull you across the ballroom.

“Colin, No I—"

“Brothers, this is Miss y/l/n, Anthony, Benedict,” he pointed out.

You curtsied before both of them before speaking up.

“I told you, just Y/N is fine Colin.”

You weren’t sure what his brothers would say about your slight improperness. It was clear that the Bridgerton’s were a well-respected family in the ton.

You glanced at the eldest brother who you learned was named Anthony who gave you a curt nod before excusing himself to sneak off from an inquiring Lady Danbury.

You smiled at him before turning your gaze to the second eldest Bridgerton.

“Y/N here was telling me about her studies in the states. She is well-read and well-traveled.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing Colin slightly.

“You flatter me, Colin. Unfortunately, I am not perfect. For example, I am about done with all of this and was just about to call a carriage.”

“Oh, but you must stay for one more dance Y/N. Poor Benedict here has not waltzed once.”

Benedict tried to sneakily hit his brother for his clear meddling.

“While that may be true, I do not need my younger brother imposing on such a lovely lady.” Benedict states.

“Nonsense, everyone must waltz at least once,” you laughed, pulling Benedict towards the center of the room.

His eyes widened at your forwardness as he shot Colin a disapproving brotherly look, to which Colin gave him a grin and thumbs up.

As the music began you moved around the room with Benedict.

“So, Mr. Bridgerton, tell me what exactly it is you do.”

“Just Benedict is fine,” he stated, mirroring your words from earlier.

“Besides, aren’t I the one who should be questioning you about your skills?”

“That’s awfully backwards thinking, I hope you don’t get stuck that way” you replied sarcastically before being spun around.

When you returned facing Benedict, a knowing grin was stuck on his face. You were witty. He liked witty.

“I suppose that is fair. I’m an artist, well…I’m trying to be an artist. It’s a little complicated.”

You nodded understandingly, while the arts were enjoyed by many, it wasn’t exactly a noble pursuit, especially for you as a woman.

“You should come by Sir Granville’s studio, it’s quite…”

You couldn’t think of a proper word to describe the soirees Granville hosted. It was taboo and scandalous to most respectable members of society. However, if Benedict was an artist as he was claiming, he should fit right in.

“…inspiring,” you finished.

Benedict gave you an interesting look.

Little did you know, he had been to Granville’s studio, several times.

He hadn’t been in a while since his family had just returned from Aubrey Hall and the preparation for Eloise’s season had been quite hectic for his mother.

But you, picturing you at Granville’s studio was not something Benedict had imagined.

Women who were married or of low social standing was something else, but you, a young lady in her first official season stalking down the halls in such a disreputable manner. It didn’t fit the picture of the beautiful woman before him.

Benedict was quickly learning not to try and categorize you into one box.

“What do you know of Granville’s studio?” he asked seriously.

“Well, for one, I’m staying there. Two, I feel more comfortable among that community than here, if you understand what I mean…” you trail off.

Benedict gives you a small smile of understanding.

As the song ends Benedict lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently before sightly lowering it back down, fingers brushing softly as he pulls away.

“Until next time Y/N”

“I look forward to it Benedict.”

******

Two months had passed since Lady Danbury’s first ball of the season. In that time you had befriended Eloise and Colin Bridgerton, often sitting in the parlor room of their home during the daytime, chatting the day away.

As such, you had also grown closer to Penelope Featherington who also came over often. You always considered yourself to be quite perceptive, so it was evidently clear that Penelope was fond of Colin. You thought about mentioning something, but it didn’t seem like your place.

Throughout your time at the Bridgerton’s household you had seen Benedict a handful of times. Unfortunately, your encounters were reduced to small greetings, stolen glances and light brushes as you walked past each other.

Until today.

You were sitting in the empty parlor room as Eloise ran to her room to fetch some ‘evidence’ and ‘clues’ about Lady Whistledown.

“Good Afternoon Y/N” Benedict greeted as he walked in, taking a quick look around the room to find the two of you alone.

“Afternoon Mr. Bridgerton,” you greeted back, a slight teasing tone to contrast your seemingly formality.

He gave you a knowing look before continuing.

“I hope I’m not being too forward, but I plan on attending Sir Granville’s tonight, I was wondering if I would see you there?”

You gave him a teasing smile before your face fell into a serious and hurt look.

“Mr. Bridgerton, I’m appalled, would a respectable young woman such as myself be caught there? Imagine the horror if the rest of the ton were to find out.”

He let out a loud laugh at your remark, in the short time that he had known you, you never failed to make him laugh.

“Yes Benedict, I’ll see you there,” you smiled.

“Good,” he replied.

******

That night you had a few drinks to help you take the edge off before guests started coming over. There was something about interacting with Benedict that made you nervous.

 You were walking around the art studio observing the nude model and the artists renditions when you felt someone lay their hand on your shoulder.

“OH! Oh my, Benedict, you scared me.”

“Sorry, love, didn’t mean to startle you.”

You continued walking around the circle, admiring the art around you.

“She’s stunning, is she not?” you questioned.

“She is,” he answered quickly.

However, when you turned to look at him his eyes were already trained on yours.

You smiled widely, walking out of the studio as Benedict followed like a lost puppy.

“Will I ever get to see your art?” you asked him.

He smiled sheepishly as his arm reached back to scratch the back of his neck.

“I certainly would let you, if there was any.”

“Practicing here for a few months and you still have nothing to show?” you teased.

Benedict gave you a look.

“I may have asked around about you,” you confessed.

“And?” he asks.

From what you have heard, both from his siblings and other people around you. Benedict was a kind and creative soul, with a great appreciation for the beauty around him.

“Your family and friends speak highly of you, that’s important.”

“What about you? What do you speak of me?”

“Besides being a tortured artist? I think highly of you.”

He nodded his head again, before responding.

“I think highly of you as well,” he whispered quietly, leaning down slightly so he was more at eye level.

You blamed the alcohol in your system for what you did next.

Yanking him down by his collar, you pulled him close and reached up until your lips were flush against his, pushing with all your might as if you would never kiss him again.

“Y/N—” he pulled away, his senses flooding back.

“This is…no, I’ve dishonored you I—”

“Oh hush Benedict, I do not care about those rules. I want you.”

He looked down at you, holding your face in his hands as he searched your eyes for confirmation.

Biting your lip and grinning up at him, Benedict couldn’t help but pull you back in, one hand sinking to your waist to pull you closer, the other rested on your cheek.

“You know this means we have to get married now?” Benedict teases.

“That means you presume I would say yes,” you teased back.

His smile grew impossibly bigger as he pulled you back in for a tender kiss.

“Let’s just see how you perform tonight before we think about marriage” you joked.

Benedict pulled back with a smirk and look in his eye you haven’t seen yet as he looked you over.

“Art is all about practicing and perfecting, we might need to practice a few times before you make your final judgement” he teased back.

You threw your head back in surprise, a large laugh leaving your lips before you smiled sweetly at him.

This was not how you imagined the social season going.

check out the rest of my work ⤑ here!

[midnightmelancholy]

Ok so my theory about the scenes being filmed in the leaked set photos is that Kate is chaperoning Edwina to a day at the races with Anthony and as the day draws on its obvious to the rest of the Bridgertons that as sweet as Edwina is, there's no chemistry between her and Anthony. Kate on the other hand isn't afraid to challenge or talk back to him, much to his siblings amusement. The competitive spirit of Anthony and Kate flares up as they watch the races and perhaps they both get so invested they make a bet on the winning horse. The pair are so passionate they get to their feet to cheer their respective bets, neither remotely caring for their loud behaviour. On Anthony's other side Edwina is bored because spectator sports don't interest her at all (or sport in general for that matter), so much so she has snuck a philosophy book out with her and reads it all the while knowing her sister is keeping Anthony occupied. From a couple of rows back the mighty matchmakers of the Ton, Violet and Lady Danbury, watch the spark between Anthony and Kate grow as the latter pair grow more fervent in their cheering as the horses race closer to the finish line. Their energetic spirit is infectious as the rest of the present Bridgertons roar their support, as do the rest of the spectators around them, the crowd screaming the loudest they have been all day. Even Edwina looks up from her book and gets to her feet as the two horses Kate and Anthony have bet on draw neck and neck. Kate's horse pips Anthony's by a hoof and the former rubs it in the latter's face before asking him to cough up what she is owed. Anthony groans but even he can't keep down the utter joy he has for the excitement of the last few minutes. As Kate continues to tease him (with Colin and Benedict joining and siding with her), Edwina sits back down and returns to her book, a small smile on her face hearing her sister and Anthony's back and forth. Lady Danbury shares a knowing look with Violet before remarking "while I had my doubts over the Viscount Bridgerton finding a true love match for this season, I do believe there will be a Viscountess Bridgerton before the year is up."

[cummingforkylo]

The Prince Of Alderaan Chapter I

Summary: It’s the spring of 1813, you’re the daughter of Viscount Huntington and after your family went through a scandalous season last year your parents have decided it’s time for your debut in society as a marriageable young lady. You’ve had life long expectations about what this would mean, charming young men excited by the prospect of being your suitor, lavish dances, and falling in love. What your debut season turns out to be is far from your innocent imaginings, especially because the Prince of Alderaan is in London for the season and with him all kinds of dark intentions. 

Read it on AO3 | Send me a ko-fi

Rating: Explicit...eventually

Word Count: 6,117 

Warning: None as of now

Pairing: Kylo Ren x reader

Notes: This story is inspired by the netflix show/book series Bridgerton. It’s kind of a crossover because I do use some themes and characters from the show but it is mostly a Kylo x Reader fic. I am still in the process of writing it but it is all planned out. I’m hoping to post weekly but I don’t have any set schedule as of right now. I promise you this is not going to be super historically accurate so don’t expect that lol. I’m just here for a good time. I really hope you like it!!

Dearest Lords and Ladies of London,

As the social season of 1813 fully blooms in the spring air, I pose one question, what scandal awaits our starved apetites? Last year we enjoyed the delicacy of the great Huntington family being almost brought to their knees by the Viscount Huntington’s love of gambling. This year we can feast upon his youngest child and only daughter being presented to society for the first time, perhaps earlier than she should have been to in an attempt to make up for their problems last year. We also will get to try a taste of exotic flavor as the Prince of Alderaan has returned to London for business reasons unknown(but will surely be found out by this writer). As those of us who keep up with world politics know, the Prince is the current ruler of the Kingdom of Alderaan as he and his militaristic political faction ousted his mother, the Queen Regent, from power only a few years after his father abdicated responsibilities and is in places unknown.

Yesterday, the young ladies of high society who are debuting this season were presented to Queen Charlotte of England and of course, it was an event filled with who’s who, how did this girl prove herself silly or charming or cold and who managed to scrape by with Her Majesty’s much desired approval. Miss Daphne Bridgerton was chosen as the Queen’s diamond of the season, and was, to use the Queen’s word, “Flawless.” It will be interesting to see how many suitors Miss Daphne may be entertaining over the next few weeks. Miss Huntington,  who’s family had very nearly been shunned by all of society last season proved to be quiet but charming and earned herself almost no regard from the Queen but did fair better than the young Miss Philippa Featherington who swooned almost the moment she was presented to the Queen.

Yes, Lords and Ladies of London, we are in for quite the season, I am sure. I can assure you I will be with you every step of the way. None of you know me, nor will you ever(no matter how hard I am sure you will try) but I know you. I know your business and every dark little secret that you think is private and I will gladly be sharing it with the rest of the society. I’m sure we will all become very well acquainted over the next few weeks.

Yours most sincerely,

Lady Whistledown

***

Everything was silk and cotton, ruffles on skirts, rouge, curls and words of the latest scandal sheet that had been delivered to the door of 3201 Grosvenor Square earlier in the day. You were of course readying yourself for the Danbury Ball that evening, it would be your first ball after being presented to the Queen of England herself and to society as a whole so it must be perfect.

“What did it say of me again, Mama?” You asked as you stood facing the large mirror in your room while your maid, Ella, tied up your stays. She pulled them tight but not so tight you could not breathe, fainting at your first ball would hardly do, it would be unacceptable outcome to both you and your parents who hoped to find you an excellent match this season.

“Do not concern yourself with what some horrid writer thinks of you, dearest.” Mama said, looking up from the paper in question. You had read it through and found your name mentioned multiple times, none of which had been terribly favorable. Of course she referenced the scandal that had taken place in your family the year previously but that had been covered endlessly in older scandal sheets and no one found it of much interest anymore. Lady Whistledown was new she had more interest in reporting the new scandals….and yet, she had mentioned it. So it would be fresh in any suitors mind, a thought that caused you discomfort. You would hate to fall madly in love with some beautiful lord only to have him find you detestable due to something that happened in your family over a year before. You had been looking forward to your season since you were a child, you imagined it always bathed in beautiful spring sunlight, you imagined yourself surrounded by affectionate suitors, flowers, music, charming conversation and always…options.

Now that your season was here, you found it tainted by the mere memory of scandal but you were not going to let it stop you from finding love and enjoying the beauty of being out in the eyes of society. Marriage eligible. Despite what Lady Whistledown had written, you felt yourself ready for society, ready for all that it could bring you; and your Mama was right, you should not let the words of a gossip writer concern you. Ella had finished with your stays so now it was time for your petticoat and then your gown, fresh from the modiste. Once it was on, buttoned, straightened, and thoroughly fussed over Ella stepped back and you examined yourself in the mirror. The dress was fashionable in every aspect, powder blue, high waistline, short puffed sleeves, and square neckline that showed off more than you had ever been allowed to show before. You felt it swish around your slippered feet and you felt exactly how you had always dreamed of feeling just prior to your first ball.

“Mama?” You prompted, glancing over your shoulder to where your Mama was still poring over Lady Whistledown(even though she had told you not to concern yourself). Lady Huntington finally looked up and gasped. Standing up, she rushed to your side.

“You are a vision, dearest.” She said, smoothing a section of your hair. You smiled, allowing your eyes to linger on your own reflection again. Your heart sputtered with excitement, tonight could very well be the night that you would first lay your eyes upon the man you would wed.

“We truly do not need to worry about what the Horrible Whistledown woman writes, because you are such a gem that all the gentlemen at tonights ball shall be vying for your attention. “ Mama said. You looked to Ella,

“Do you agree, Ella?” You asked, reaching out for your maid’s hand, you had known her for years and she was your closest confidant, especially after all you had endured last season.

“Oh, My Lady, my opinion hardly-“

“I do very much value your opinion, Ella…and I’d believe you if you were to tell me I look like a fool. Please.” You said, squeezing her hand.

“You look lovely, my lady.” Ella said, you gave her a look that practically begged her to tell you the truth. “That is the truth, my lady. You’ll need your best gloves but you look just as your mother said, a vision.” She said. You smiled and looked back to the mirror, allowing yourself another moment to take yourself in. Perhaps it was a silly thing to do, perhaps you were being vain but you had to be flawless to be viewed as eligible and that was what you intended on doing.

***

Kylo Ren had changed his name years before and still sometimes invitations were addressed to his past name. Especially when he was here in London; he believed his mother had something to do with that and he despised it. Of course, no one would refer to him as that name to his face, no one had the courage to do that; but he still found it irksome to look at the letter sitting on his desk that invited him to the Danbury Ball tonight addressing him as Benjamin. Even worse was the gossip rag that had been delivered to his address that morning not only mentioned him but even the author of that drivel had managed not to refer to him as his detested past name. And yet, high society here in London could not be bothered to at least address him as his title. It had his mother’s doing written all over it and it put him in a truly foul mood. There was a knock on his door and he looked up from his desk,

“Yes?” he called and the door opened, revealing the butler.

“A General Hux here for you, Your Grace.” He said in the snooty high society accent of a well trained London butler.

“Yes, let him in.” He said dismissively. He went back to the work in front of him while he waited for the wretched man to enter. He was in no mood for Hux, his chiding or his warnings about tonight’s events. Yet, he had to humor the man even while they were here in London. General Hux commanded Alderaan’s army and even though Kylo commanded the General, he needed to keep the abhorrent man at least semi happy.

“Ren,” Hux was already speaking as he walked into the room. Kylo stood, deciding to ignore the fact that Hux had not bowed or showed any amount of respect for his position as he entered the room. Kylo held his hand out for the General to take, Hux clasped it, and Kylo maybe squeezed his fingers harder than he had intended to.

“Hux,” He said in greeting. “How are you?” he asked in a tone that implied he didn’t care at all about the answer.

“Well. Enjoying London so far. Ah,” Hux had spotted Lady Whistledown’s sheet on the desk and walked over, picking it up. “You received this as well?” He asked around a smile.

“Of course, I believe it was delivered to all the households in high society.” Kylo said, he picked his tailcoat up from over the back of his chair and pulled it on. The ball was in a few hours and he needed to begin to get ready, to make himself presentable for society so he hoped he could rush Hux out by appearing busy.

“It mentions you.” Hux said, looking at the paper in one hand while the other arm was tucked behind his back in a way that was clearly commonplace for him due to his military background. A refreshed wave of irritation washed over Kylo as Hux told him something he already knew,

“Yes. I have read it.” Kylo said through a clenched jaw.

“You know this means all the young ladies and their Mama’s will be out for your favor.” He said. Kylo didn’t want to hear it, he knew it to be true but listening to it from a man he could barely stand was not something he wanted to tolerate.

“I know. It does not matter.” He said.

“You would be wise to marry.” There was the chiding Kylo had expected. “People will only take you seriously when you have an heir…and an heir,” He looked at Kylo meaningfully, “A legitimate heir, requires a wife.” He finished in clipped tones. Kylo realized he had been clenching his fist, his brow furrowed, anger coursing through him. He slowly released the clenched hand.

“Do you forget who you are speaking to?” He asked, his voice going from the simple boredom of before to fury.

“No, Your Grace, I merely am trying to impress upon you the importance of something you seem to have entirely written off. Just because you want to behave like a petulant child and irritate your mother-“ Hux was cut of mid sentence due to Kylo crossing in front of his desk and grabbing the shorter man by the front of his tailcoat. Kylo dragged Hux towards him, their faces close, fury burnt through the Princes’s expression.

“You’ve forgotten your place, Hux.” He snarled and then because he did not wish to start a brawl with his army’s general in the study of his London home he shoved Hux away so hard the man stumbled. “I am aware of the situation and I do not need your counsel. Now, I will see you at the events tonight. Remember who you speak to next time.” He warned. Hux hastily fixed his collar, adjusting it as he caught his breath, still looking shaken. It was not the first time the Prince had brutalized him in such a fashion and neither of them thought it would be the last.

“I shall see you tonight.” Hux said before turning to leave. He paused at the door,

“You would do well to reign in that temper, Your Grace, if you do wish to secure an heir and your position.” Hux warned and then he was out the door. Kylo stood there, shaking with rage, it bubbled inside him and in an explosion of movement he lashed out and sent a stack of books flying from their position on the desk. They crashed across his desk as they went flying, upending a inkwell, throwing papers into the air and making a giant clatter as they hit the floor. Kylo stood back, seething as the Butler hurriedly entered to clear it up.

***

The Danbury Ball was just as Kylo had suspected, stuffy, hot, and dull. It was filled with the smell of ladies perfume and powder from the wigs worn by the musicians. It was also filled with young ladies and their Mama’s flocking around him begging for his attention either for themselves or for their daughters. “Lady This from That estate in the country, Your Grace, I can play any Mozart you’d like on piano.”  “Lady Whatever, Your Grace, please meet my daughter Miss Whatever. We have three homes in London alone thats not to mention our country estate. So you can assume her dowry is sizable.” “Your Grace, what an honor that you would attend-“ “Prince Ren, I’d like you to meet-“ It seemed to go on and on and there was no escape, unless he were to leave entirely and he knew that was unacceptable.

Kylo refused to be bested by the hordes of young women, all bright eyed, rose cheeked and dressed in the most fashionable of gowns. No, he would hold his ground, be polite but dismissive and leave it at that. How dull. Leaving it at that. Lots of the girls were attractive but most of them would prove to be proper young ladies who would never be caught dead alone with a man, let alone in any of the compromising situations he might find enjoyable. It was true that it would be easy enough to lure one of them out to the garden and from there some kind of seduction would be simple, a kiss on the neck, a hand on the waist and the girl would be so flustered and excited that she wouldn’t know how to say no. For a moment he found himself entertained at the idea but then he glanced around at the girls batting their eyelashes at him, smiling and trying to make themselves as demure and eligible as possible and he was bored once again. The idea of compromising one of their virtues had been exciting for a fleeting moment but the excitement had died the moment he truly considered acting on it.

Kylo excused himself in what was probably an extremely rude manner to the woman who had been trying to ask him if he hunted. He felt as if he was being hunted himself as he walked away from her and the other ladies who were waiting for their opportunity to talk to him. He finally found himself a tiny pocket of peace, just off of the dance floor by a window that looked out onto Lady Danbury’s gardens. He stood for a moment, finally getting to enjoy a second of peace and quiet when a voice next to him spoke,

“I’m shocked to see you here.” Kylo stiffened, because he recognized the voice. It belonged to his mother and he hadn’t heard it in years. It made his chest tighten, if his hands had not been clasped behind his back they would have trembled. Before he looked at her he set his jaw and his eyes hardened,

“Queen Regent,” he said in greeting, tilting his head down slightly but barely meeting her eyes.

“Ben,” Leia started but Kylo sucked in his breath through his teeth so she had to pause, but she continued without correcting herself, “I am so glad you’re in London for the season…there is so much you can accomplish. Starting with healing your relationship with Queen Charlotte.” Of course, the instant she spoke to him again it was about all his failings, all the things he needed to fix.

“No, Your Grace. It is not my plan to heal anything with her, she is not the leader of England just as you are not the leader of Alderaan.” His tone was cross but quiet, he didn’t need anyone hearing the way in which they spoke to one another. Leia glared up at him for a moment, Kylo could feel his mother’s eyes burning into him as if the glare could actually turn to fire and scorch his clothing and then his skin.  

“At least tell me you’re coming to these events looking for a wife.” She said after a moment of silence between them. Kylo looked down at her and watched her turn around to face the ballroom, placing both of her hands properly on top of her beautiful gilded cane. When he didn’t answer she took his arm, pulling him slightly to look at something. He tugged his arm out of her grip but looked where she was looking, “Daphne Bridgerton was named the diamond of the season. She was chosen by the Queen.” She said to him. Kylo’s eyes caught on Daphne, a pretty young debutant but thoroughly uninteresting to him. “She would make quite the wife, and being married to a Prince is a big step up for her. I’m quite sure she would be interested.” She was speaking hurriedly as if she knew he was about to walk away from her and to be fair, that was exactly what he wanted to do.

“I am not getting married, mother.” He growled, his voice still low. “Especially not to some girl who’s in the pocket of an English Queen.” He snarled before turning from his mother and stalking off.

*

Walking into the ballroom of your first ball was somehow better than all of your fantasies, all your dreams seemed to have lead to this moment and as you stepped in from the entry hall you lost your breath. It was a swirl of white gloves, beautiful light dresses, curls immaculately done up, men’s tailcoats jostling as they danced, and golden candlelight danced over the whole thing. You felt as though you had inhaled bubbles from the sips of champagne you had on holidays.

The ballroom at the Danbury’s estate was a large, high ceilinged room with many beautiful crystal chandeliers hanging down providing glowing golden candle light. On the mantles of the multiple fireplaces were spring green garlands, white roses tucked amongst the greenery. It had all the charms and refinement you expected from your first ball. The center of the room was the dance floor and just off to the side, below a grand staircase the musicians played beautiful, joyful music.  Many people danced and still more mingled around the edges of the dance, sipping drinks, talking  and trying to impress.

Your mama walked in behind you and it was her hand on your back that stopped you from staring all around with wide eyed wonder. You had been to balls before, but it had been as a child, not as a lady eligible for marriage and this was so vastly different.

“Close your mouth, dearest.” Mama said “Lest you catch a fly.” You snapped your mouth shut. Mama lead you to a table that had little cards connected to dainty pieces of ribbon on them. Dance cards. You found your name and Mama helped you tie it around your wrist and it finally felt real. You were here. You were finally going to be able to be a real lady, you could meet the love of your life this very night. Perhaps he would sweep you off of your feet and you would be wed by the end of the season. Did anyone get proposals after one night? You were sure that you had heard of a woman who had managed to get a proposal after only a few hours but you had to remind yourself of how rare that was. There were plenty of young ladies here tonight that had been searching for multiple seasons for a husband and had yet to find one. A lot of those girls didn’t even have a scandal in their family’s history and you did, you had to remind yourself of this so you remained beyond reproach. You had to be perfect. You straightened one of your gloves at your elbow and began to make the rounds.

It came naturally to you because it had come naturally to your mama and she had taught you very well. You greeted everyone by name and title, smiling but not too wide, never looking upset or dowdy. You spoke with Lord Humphies about hunting and Mr. Banbrook about music. You were even able to answer Monsieur De la Rue in acceptable French. Mr. Banbrook was the first to ask you to dance and so he took your hand and lead you out onto the dance floor. His arm wrapped around your back and he began to lead you through a fairly quick waltz. You began the dance dizzy with excitement, Mr. Banbrook was quite handsome, he didn’t have a title but he had money and he smiled while he talked and that charmed you. Something happened as you danced though, you realized your head wasn’t swimming with happiness, your heart wasn’t pounding hard and fast in your ears, there was no excited butterflies dancing in your stomach. You didn’t feel as if you had inhaled champagne bubbles. No. This was no different than dancing with one of your older brothers. Even the steps felt too familiar.

The conversation was lifeless as well, he talked endlessly about all the things he had,  and all the things he used to decorate his house with. You had long since left the topic of music behind and you found yourself staring off just over his shoulder, a pleasant smile plastered onto your face.

“I have quite a few stuffed deer heads on the walls of my study out in my country estate.” Mr. Banbrook said, you had to blink a few times to bring yourself back to reality. “They’re really quite beautiful.” He added when you didn’t answer right away.

“Oh, yes. I’m sure they’re lovely.” You said politely.

“Here in London I tend to fashion my home with art more than my hunting trophies-“ he continued and your mind wandered again, it was a thrilling moment when he spun you away from him for a moment and you joined with another gentleman before being spun back to your original partner. How could this be? Mr. Banbrook was perfectly suitable, maybe nothing special but, shouldn’t your first dance at your first ball bring some excitement?

After the disappointing dance with Mr. Banbrook he signed your dance card and promised to come back for another dance later in the evening and you were relieved when he left you. It’s just this first one that was bad, there are plenty of other gentlemen here. You told yourself this over and over again. The first man was not bound to be the man you married. There was a part of you that had hoped that the first dance with a man would be something magical, something that would have sent your heart into spasms of excitement, would have put stars in your eyes,  and butterflies in your stomach.

The next man to ask you to dance was Lord Kensington, he was handsome if a bit more bumbling than Mr. Banbrook. He stumbled over his words when asking you to dance but you reserved your judgment until you had danced. Lord Kensington had a title of his own and seemed completely taken with you. He kept his hand tight on your back as you danced. When the music picked up, you hoped and hoped. Please, let this give me every feeling I’ve ever wished for. But when he stepped on your toes and you had to tell him with a polite giggle that it was quite alright, you knew there was no chance. In what world would the man you were going to fall in love with step on your toes, smell of fish and stare at your chest while he tried to keep up with the steps to the dance. You hoped that the disappointment did not show on your face.

By the end of the dance it was hard to pretend you were enjoying yourself, but you attempted. He signed his name to your dance card and you thanked him. Soon. Soon. Someone will and it will be just as lovely as you’ve always imagine. Even if he isn’t the one you marry. It will feel like butterflies and champagne bubbles. You tried to tell yourself this after each man you had a dance with disappointed you. None of them were interesting, exciting, or like the spellbinding man you had always dreamt of.

No, you continued to have your feet trodden on, your back squeezed too tightly, be nearly put to sleep by the conversation and generally underwhelmed. Even the men who were perfectly lovely seeming sparked no interest in you. You tried very hard with them, listening to every word, dancing as prettily as you could, you tried to create the feeling you had dreamt of. The feeling you had when you first entered the ballroom, the rushing excitement, the pulsing happiness, the feeling of possibility. It never happened. The moment when you thought you might feel it, it just fizzled away.

You finished a dance with Lord Fernside and retreated to your Mama, she had been talking with Lady Featherington and the Viscountess Bridgerton when you came over. She detangled herself from the women and turned to you,

“None of those men were your fancy?” she asked, you wondered if she could so easily read it on your face.

“No, Mama…how did you-“ You asked.

“People have been talking,” Never a good thing. “It seems lots of people have been saying you seem…cold. Uninterested.” She said. You felt hot with anger suddenly. You had done nothing wrong, in fact you had played the part of interested and excited as well as you could under the circumstances.

“Uninterested?” You gasped.

“We will discuss it later, for now try and look happier, dearest.” She insisted. You took a deep breath and looked around the ballroom, hoping to calm yourself. You found your eyes drawn across the dance floor to the other side where a man stood almost a foot above the people around him. Besides being shockingly tall, he was broad with waves of dark hair, and a striking features. The oddest thing about him was that he was looking straight back  at you. It was as if your eyes had been drawn towards him because you could feel the intensity of his gaze. Your heartbeat quickened, you could feel it in your throat, your hands even seemed to tingle. You knew you shouldn’t stare at him and yet neither of you averted your gaze.

*

“Hux,” Kylo said in greeting as Hux appeared at his side. He did not take his eyes off of the girl across the dance floor from him. She was the first girl at this nightmare of a ball who he did not find completely banal. Maybe it had been the way she had looked around the ballroom with such misery that it nearly rivaled his own. Or maybe it was just because he found her attractive.

“Your Grace,” Hux said, looking up at him and then following his gaze across the ballroom. “Has someone actually caught your eye?” he wondered. Kylo quickly averted his eyes, not wanting to admit anything to Hux, his lip twitched towards a snarl but he reworked his face into disinterest once again.

“She’s attractive is all. Who is she?” He asked.

“Miss Huntington, daughter of Lord and Lady Huntington.” Hux said. “From what I’ve gathered this is her debut season but her prospects do not look good considering the scandal her family suffered last year.” Hux said.

“Scandal?” Kylo asked, the memory of a page in Lady Whistledown’s paper that morning floated back to him. Huntington. Gambling.

“Her father has a gambling problem and lost the family quite a lot of money, they were in some amount of debt. It seems they managed to dig their way out of debt and have returned to proper society.” Hux informed him, leaning in towards him to speak, Kylo wished it was proper to push him away. “I think it was mentioned in Whistledown this morning-“

“I do not care what is written in that fucking paper.” Kylo snapped. Hux was quiet for a moment and then,

“She is far below your station, Your Grace.” Hux said as he watched Kylo’s eyes drift back towards the girl across the ballroom. “And with that kind of scandal, who knows if she even has a dowry anymore.”

It was true. She was far below his station. Far from the Queen’s diamond of the season. Far from the choice his mother would have made for him. He could imagine the irritation he would cause his mother if he was seen with the girl. Choosing to dance with her out of all of the many, more appropriate ladies to choose from.

“Well, thank you for your input, General.” Kylo nodded to Hux and started to cross the ballroom towards the girl.

*

You had to hurriedly force yourself to look away as he looked back towards you, you had already been staring for too long. He was going to think you improper. Maybe you were improper, because you had never even spoken with the man and he was making your heart pound, making you lose your breath.

“Dearest,” Mama said, taking your arm. “The Prince is coming this direction.” She said. Prince?! He was a prince. You had locked eyes with a Prince and hadn’t even realized it.

“Prince?” You asked, shocked. Before your mama could answer you he was standing in front of you. All eyes were upon the two of you. Everyone who had been standing nearby couldn’t help but notice when a prince stepped directly in front of a young lady. You had to remind yourself that were, in fact, the lady he had stepped directly in front of. You looked up to him, struck again by how how tall he was. Your eyes met  and you were again struck by how handsome he was. Struck by how intense his gaze was. Struck by how hard your heart pounded. How it migrated up from your chest and into your throat. You remembered yourself in a hurried movement and curtsied, “Your Grace.” You said, trying to remember everything you knew about Princes. This must have been the Prince of Alderaan. You racked your brain for his name. Benjamin Solo.  No. Kylo Ren. He had changed it from his family name. Prince Kylo reached out for your hand, you held it out to him and he took it, gracefully bowing his head and kissed the back of it.

“Miss Huntington,” he said, he was unsmiling and yet you didn’t find yourself missing it. His face didn’t need a smile to be beautiful. “Would you care to dance with me?” he asked.

“Of course, Your Grace.” You said. Without another word he offered you his arm and you took it with a shaking hand. He lead you on to the dance floor and pulled you in towards him. The music was beautiful, another fun waltz but this already seemed entirely different from your first dance of the night. Your mind whirred, trying to come up with all that you knew of Prince Kylo. His reputation was not a good one, cruel, quick tempered, cold and unsettled were just a few of the things you knew of his reputation; but a reputation was not necessarily reality.

In the first moments of the dance, everything seemed to blur around you. It was like you could not focus on the outside world and the only focus was on him. Everything you wanted to happen in all your other dances with other men tonight was happening now. Your heart raced, your smile was genuine and butterflies danced in your stomach.

“Are you enjoying London, Your Grace?” You asked.

“Not at all.” He said, glancing away from you. Your brow furrowed, but you recovered quickly,

“I’m sure all of these balls and the season’s events must feel silly to you.” You offered with a smile. Prince Kylo’s eyes met yours and you felt your mouth go dry.

“Yes, they do. Especially silly when I have every stupid girl at this ball vying for my attention when I try to make it very clear I do not care to give any of them an ounce of my attention.” He said. At first you were shocked at the way he talked about other ladies, calling them stupid as if it wasn’t an insult. As if it was just a fact. Then, you realized he was giving you attention. He must have thought there was something special with you, something different, something worth giving attention to. Your heart leapt at this thought and you looked up at him, eyes meeting his.

“It must be exhausting being so desirable.” You teased lightly, you wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t made it seem obvious that he felt you were worth giving attention to. You smiled at him in a way you hoped was flirtatious. As you smiled you watched his expression change from interest to something that might have been akin to disgust.

“You’re not so different from any of these other girls, are you Miss Huntington?” he asked. It took a moment for your excitement and interest to turn to  confusion and embarrassment and then finally indignation. Had he just implied that you were stupid?

“Excuse me?” You asked, unable to restrain the anger you felt.

“You were staring at me from across the ballroom, were you not?” He asked, his voice wasn’t so much teasing as it was mocking. Heat flooded your cheeks, embarrassed, you hurriedly looked away from him. Your jaw set and your heart pounding but not from excitement anymore, but instead from anger.

“I only looked at you because I felt you staring at me.” You said, your voice dropping lower.

“You felt me staring at you?” He asked, now sounding amused. The hand he had on your back moved upwards, towards the exposed skin of your upper back. You felt one of his gloved fingers brush against your skin,  shivers seemed to erupt through your body even though you were flushed from anger and the exertion of dancing.

“Yes. You looked at me with such…such…intensity that I felt it.” You insisted. He scoffed, his lip twitching up towards something like a smile. It irritated you and to your even worse irritation it interested you.

“I believe you are mistaken. I caught you staring at me long after I looked away from you, Miss Huntington.” He said seriously, his dark eyes seemed to burn. His hand against your back squeezed, the finger that lay across the skin on your back dug in slightly. You felt dizzy, your breath left you in a sharp exhale. You wished that this waltz was one where you switched partners, even for a brief moment, so you wouldn’t have to look at his burning eyes and the way his lips seemed to twitch as he thought or listen to the way his voice was so deep it reverberated through his chest. You had finally gotten what you had wanted from the night, the excitement from a dance, the rushing happiness, the kind that bubbled through your veins like champagne, the excitement that made you tingle. You got all the feelings you wanted but they conjoined and mixed with fury and embarrassment. Kylo leaned in towards you, he was so close you could feel his breath,  he was too close, you could hear his smirk as he spoke,“You stared at me, my lady. How improper.”

[ilalos]

Lavender dreams (Anthony Bridgerton x OC)-Part 2/3

Word count: 1.8k

Dances came and went and Grace had saved a dance for Anthony in each and every one of them, but he had yet to ask her for an outing. Gigi supposed he was busy enough trying to get Eloise to go on at least one outing with one of the few men that passed his rigorous check but was it so hard to take her out for a walk in the park or perhaps to have some tea? It didn’t help that she had heard rumors of him meeting actresses every night with unholy purposes, but she held hope for the eldest Bridgerton because every time they danced she felt as if there was no one else on the dance floor with them, and every time they talked he pulled a smile from her even if seconds before she had been upset.

She had had some outings with a couple of gentlemen who were approved by Simon and Daphne, and even if they were fine, educated young men she felt nothing for them. She knew her time was cutting short as it was already the middle of the season and her father didn’t have much time left, but she hadn’t felt anything resembling love for any of her callers. She had, however, started a friendship with non-other than Colin Bridgerton, and this lead Lady Whistledown to speculate about a possible engagement between the pair. The truth was, Colin saw Gigi as a sister at most and she saw him as the brother she never had.

The possibility of Colin proposing was truly daunting to Lady Bridgerton as she knew this union would break Anthony’s heart and could potentially cause a rift between the brothers. She had taken notice of the way her eldest tensed whenever one of the girls read the latest Lady Whistledown and the young couple was mentioned, Colin would always scoff and remind everyone he had no intentions of getting engaged anytime soon but that did nothing to lessen the deep frown in Anthony’s face or his mother’s worry.

Anthony had been visiting the brothel more often in a poor attempt to forget about Gigi and also convincing himself that he would never be deserving of the girl’s love. He knew he needed a wife and he intended on marrying that very season, but the thought of Gigi suffering half as much with his death as his mother did when his father passed, refrained him from accepting his feelings and proposing. Despite his resolve to forget his feelings for her, he continued to dance with her at every ball and party. When they danced he felt as if he could stay there forever, twirling her in his arms and holding her as close as possible; they talked sometimes at these events and felt as if they had known each other their whole lives.

It was the day of the picnic and the Bridgerton family was excited after hearing from the eldest daughter that Lord Watts had informed her and her husband of his intentions to propose to Grace. He was an earl and he and Grace had had some successful outings.

Grace had no objections toward the young man apart from the fact that she bore no feelings for him whatsoever, but given her lack of time to worry on such silly matters, she chose to ignore that in favor of having the wedding her father wished for, and who knows? Maybe their love would sprout once they were married.

When Anthony heard the news he could almost hear his heartbreaking in half, a pain ten times bigger than the one he felt when Siena rejected him. He almost wanted to beg Colin to propose before Lord Watts had the chance, at least that way he would be able to still see her when the couple visited. He decided to skip the picnic and instead stayed at home reviewing the business to avoid having to watch the happy couple celebrating their future union.

The proposal didn’t occur at the event, Lord Watts was there and he did take Grace on a walk but he had made the decision to make a formal proposal at his family’s home the following day so he limited himself to invite Grace, the duke, the duchess, and Lady Bridgerton to his house for tea. The invitation was accepted and the picnic continued without much excitement. The Duke's family left first because baby A was behaving quite fussy and her mother suspected it was due to the unforgiving sun beaming down on them; soon after the Bridgertons left due to a menacing black cloud that darkened the festivities.

Night and storm had fallen upon Lady Danbury’s home when a nervous messenger knocked urgently on the state’s door. Mr. Lock, the butler, had opened the door.

“How can I help-”

“Lord Bridgerton’s carriage was robbed and he is terribly hurt!” The young man had yelled the message hoping the duchess would hear him “Lady Bridgerton urges the presence of her eldest daughter in this uncertain times”

Grace had been the one to hear the messenger’s words and she felt panic take hold of her body. She ran to the door and demanded a horse be readied for her, the butler refused to let her go alone into the rain and advised her to wait until the carriage was ready. At his refusal, she chose to forget decorum and took the messenger's horse and rode it into the storm. The duke and duchess had heard the commotion and ordered the footman to ready the carriage at once.

Grace rode to the Bridgerton household in record time and when she got there she rode straight into the nearby stables, dropped the horse, and ran to the home’s door. Lady Bridgerton opened with teary eyes expecting to see Daphne and let a gasp when instead of her eldest daughter she saw the soaked figure of Grace Gillingham standing at her doorstep.

“Where is he?” That was all the girl said.

“Upstairs, the doctor is seeing him in his bedroom”

The woman barely finished her sentence before the younger girl pushed past her and ran up the stairs, politeness be dammed. She found Benedict passing by Anthony’s door and before she could ask about the man’s condition a pained scream tore through the wood. She gasped as if she felt his pain and fresh tears ran down her cheeks.

“The doctor said his injuries are extensive but not life-threatening” Benedict said it trying to calm the poor girl down but her sobs remained the same, “he said it would take a while, maybe you should go get changed into some dry clothes, surely Eloise can lend you some”

“I’m not leaving this door until I see with my own eyes that he is well”

Benedict only nodded and watched her seat on the floor with her back against the wall, right across the door. Daphne arrived not long after and she too tried to convince Grace to change out of her soaked clothing or to at least drink some hot tea while they waited but the girl refused

“I will be fine” was all she had said through gritted teeth and blue lips.

Hours passed and every once in a while a pained clamor would leave the room, Benedict watched how each sound made a fresh wave of tears fall from Gigi’s eyes. The wait was long and soon Benedict found himself nodding off against the wall, only to be suddenly awakened by the door opening, Grace barely waited for the doctor to exit the room before running inside and kneeling at Anthony’s bedside, taking his hand between hers and looking at his face with relief when hearing taking notice of his breathing and the pulsing of his heart.

“He’ll need lots of rest to properly heal his wounds but he will make a full recovery” the doctor took one look at Grace and shook his head with a smile “Give this to her as soon as you can” he said as he handed Benedict a vial with a yellowish liquid.

“What is this concoction?”

“It will help her fever and lessen her cold symptoms” he explained “If she looks abnormally flushed or agitated, call me immediately”

Anthony thought he had never felt pain as bad as when the doctor had healed his wounds but seeing Grace’s feverish form sleeping uncomfortably in a chair at his bedside hurt more than whatever he felt the night prior. He saw her pale skin and red cheeks that hinted towards a fever, and her labored breathing pointed to a terrible cold, his hand was resting between hers and he marveled at how small they looked around his. He saw Benedict enter the room and questioned him about her presence.

“She rode on a stolen horse in the middle of a storm to be by your side, brother” Benedict chuckled at his brother’s astonished expression, knowing his surprise would only grow “She pushed past mother, entered the house uninvited, sat on the floor in the hallway and refused to move until she knew you were alright” he pointed to her reddened cheeks and continued “She didn’t even change out of her soaked dress until she saw you with her own eyes, the poor thing caught a terrible cold and only accepted to take the medicine and the change of clothes if we allowed her to stay here by your side”

Anthony felt his heart explode with love for the girl, the feelings so strong his eyes glossed with unshed tears. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have such an angel loving him so much, and he only hoped he could make her feel half as loved as he felt at that very moment. He had to admit he was angered by her reckless behavior but the love overshadowed his protective feelings...until he saw her being woken up by a sudden fit of horribly sounding cough. He watched as she fought to regain her breath and was ready to chastise her until he noticed the way she looked at him, with so much love and so much relief he forgot what he was going to say.

“You’re awake,” she said simply, processing “You are awake!” Once processed the information had caused her tremendous joy and she jumped to embrace him, only to jump back when she heard his quiet complaint from the pressure put on his recent wounds “I apologize Lord Bridgerton, in my excitement, I seem to have forgotten about your injuries”

“No need to apologize, love” the pet name just flew past his lips, catching them both by surprise “You must go to get some proper rest now, you are sick and tired, we’ll talk later about the poor decisions you took yesterday”

Grace only nodded and without thinking took his hand and kissed his palm before leaving to finally get some rest on an actual bed.

“Fetch the Duke of Hastings for me, Benedict, I have a proposal to make”

PART 3

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hi! If you’re still following along this story know that I appreciate it :))))) Thank you so so much for reading! I hope you enjoy it