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training4theapocalypse · 7 months ago

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A Royal Misunderstanding (Prince Friedrich x f!Reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 7k

Warnings / Tags: SMUT, virgin Prince Friedrich and experienced(ish) reader, kinda switchy Prince F, unprotected sex (for the plot).

Summary: He's looking for the future Princess Consort. You're looking for a life out of the spotlight. It'd never work.

A/N: K and an E and a T and a T, E and an R and an ING. T and an O and a W, N. Kettering Town. F.C. Also thank you to my regency queens @stealsteels and @shinytalent for reading this 👑

Masterlist

There’s an unnecessary knock on the open stable door as you move to untack your mare. She needs a thorough brush after the ride you had today.

“You are the stable hand?” inquires a young man’s voice.

You whirl around, ready to deliver a sharp retort, but hesitate when you see his earnest, slightly incredulous expression. You’ve never encountered him before, you’re sure of it. His handsome face, tuft of blonde hair and wide-eyed demeanour would certainly have been memorable.

“I was told I would be meeting the stable hand here,” he continues, still uncertain. “To collect a horse.”

An accent. Foreign. He must be part of Prince Friedrich’s contingent, newly arrived from the Kingdom of Prussia this morning. And he must be exceedingly green to mistake you for a stable hand. Despite your riding breeches being muddied from your ride, any discerning footman would recognise that the fine tailoring is not typical of a servant's attire. Even one in the employ of the Crown. His own attire, however, is old-fashioned and ill-fitting - it bears all the marks of a hand-me-down from another household servant or perhaps an older family member.

You purse your lips to stifle a smile. The opportunity to toy with one of the charmingly naive lackeys from the Prussian delegation sparks your mischievous side. Besides, he’ll need to toughen up if he’s to survive in London. “Don’t they permit women to become stable hands in Prussia?”

He blinks. “No.”

“And this horse is for Prince Friedrich?”

“Yes.” He raises his eyebrows, as though it should be self-evident why he’s here. As if everyone should recognise Prince Friedrich’s footman. The man pulls his shoulder back and there’s a subtle hint of authority in his stance. You’re unsure if it’s the language barrier or his presumption, but his curt answers irk you.

“Very well, then,” you say, gently guiding your horse towards him. “This is Artemis. She’s the finest in the stable.”

“This is your finest horse?” He chuckles heartily and your mouth becomes a thin line and your nostrils flare.

“Perhaps His Royal Highness would prefer a pony?”

He straightens, a haughty glint in his eye. “It’s covered in filth.”

“My lady is a keen rider and has already been out this morning. But if Prince Freidrich can’t handle a little dirt -”

“Of course, I can manage.”

You arch an eyebrow, his tone further irritating you. “If you say so,” you reply, handing him the reins.

As he mounts Artemis, you can’t help but decide to give him a parting gift. You give her a firm slap on her hindquarters. Artemis bolts forward, sending the young man bouncing precariously in the saddle. You watch with satisfaction as he disappears down the path, his shouts of alarm fading into the distance.

Perhaps now he’ll think twice before assuming someone is a servant.

With a contented smile, you leave the stables, already brimming with excitement at the thought of telling your ladies-in-waiting about your encounter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As far as you’re concerned, there isn’t enough wide open space in London. Far too many locked doors and whispered secrets. Or worse. Written down secrets. Specifically, the sort published by Lady Whistledown. You’d much rather be at home than endure another visit to the capital but when Queen Charlotte invited you to stay at her residence for the duration of the social season, you could hardly refuse. Not when Her Majesty and your late father, the Duke of Kettering, were such dear friends.

You suspect this invitation to spend the season at the palace might be the Queen’s ultimate attempt to honour your father’s memory. It was expected that you’d be desperate to find a husband after he passed. On paper, it should have been simple enough - your inheritance is decent enough to tempt a husband.

But finding a suitor hasn’t been easy. You’re not asking for much. You don’t want titles or wealth. Just a husband who’d be content to let you spend the day out riding rather than attending social engagements. Events like this one are your idea of hell on earth. Although it wasn’t as bad as yesterday when you had to present yourself to the Queen as one of the eligible misses of the season.

As you stepped into the centre of the room, your palms turned cold and you could feel your stomach turning inside out as you waited for the Queen to give her verdict. There’s an old saying: the brighter a lady shines, the faster she may burn. And you’d rather not find yourself turned to ash at the hands of the ton.

You exhaled an audible sigh of relief when Her Majesty remained seated and deigned to give you a small nod of approval. Neither the diamond nor the disgrace of the season and you’re glad of it - it means fewer eyes on you. But even that short burst in the relatively dim limelight made you want to flee from the room and vomit. You put yourself through your paces in the saddle this morning just to shake off the lingering feeling of dread.

You should be grateful that the Queen did not wave you away dismissively. This is your second social season after all and your value is quickly plummeting. You just need a husband who is content to stay out of the spotlight. And is resigned to the fact that you’ll probably prefer your horse’s company to theirs.

If only you really were a stable hand instead of the late Duke of Kettering’s daughter.

As you mingle in Queen Charlotte’s banquet hall amongst other guests, waiting upon the arrival of Prince Freidrich, you feel a twinge of guilt about your encounter with his footman this morning. Perhaps after this welcome dinner, you’ll discreetly invite him to meet you in the stables as a gesture of apology.

The footman was handsome, after all, despite the blonde whiskers he must have grown in an attempt to appear more mature. You wouldn’t mind ruffling his perfectly coiffed hair before letting him bend you over the stable door.

Your companion jolts you from your daydream by squeezing your arm with her silk glove excitedly. You turn and smooth the front of your gown as Queen Charlotte and her nephew Prince Friedrich’s arrival is announced.

The doors open and it takes every ounce of your self-control to maintain a dignified composure as Queen Charlotte walks in, arm-in-arm with Prince Friedrich’s footman.

Or the man who you thought was Prince Friedrich’s footman.

Damn.

Of course, you sent Prince Friedrich himself chasing across the palace grounds on the back of your startled mare.

While your face retains a dignified composure, you can’t do anything about the prickle of embarrassment flushing your chest. It’s only a matter of time before the Queen introduces Prince Freidrich to you and you will need to eat copious amounts of humble pie, slathered with grovelling apologies and dusted off with begging for forgiveness.

There’s no avoiding it. Even though tonight’s dinner isn’t an official event of the season - just a small dinner for the fifty or so palace guests and members of the Royal Family, Prince Friedrich is still introduced to every eligible woman in the room. Including you.

Queen Charlotte, eventually steers him towards you. “Allow me to present my nephew, Prince Friedrich of Prussia.”

You curtsy and allow him to greet your gloved hand with a kiss but your stomach twists in anticipation, waiting for him to admonish you in front of the Queen.

“Lady Kettering, your gown - it is exquisite,” he says, in the usual formality. “And I hope your ride this morning was more pleasant than mine.”

You take a breath to compose your apology but you’re saved from the necessity.

“Yes, the Prince had a simply awful time this morning. First, his footman forgets to pack his riding wear so he has to borrow some from the Viscount of Paisley. And then a common girl posing as a stable hand gave Prince Friedrich your horse and sent him galloping across the plain.”

“I see,” you say cautiously but the corners of Prince Freidrich’s mouth twitch like he’s trying not to laugh. You ask, “And is my horse alright?”

Queen Charlotte laughs at this. “I should have known that you would be more concerned about your mount than the Prince of Prussia.”

You smile. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. It’s only that I’m confident a duplicitous stable girl was no match for His Royal Highness.”

“Your mare was returned safely,” smiles Prince Friedrich, a roguish glint in his eye.

Prince Friedrich bows and Queen Charlotte bustles him away onto the next group of eager girls.

As you watch him greet the next group you wonder: why is the Prince of Prussia making excuses for you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the grand dining room, you search for your place setting at the far end of the table beside the other noble families from minor houses to no avail. They’ve missed me, you think in horror as you look around at the filled seats but one of your friends nudges you and nods at the empty seat next to Prince Friedrich.

There must be some mistake.

But when you glance at the Prince, still standing behind his chair expectantly at the middle of the table, he catches your eye and places a hand on the empty seat.

Barely daring to breathe, you wonder if this is his way of getting back at you for the events of this morning. Perhaps he arranged for your table setting to go missing and you’ll be publicly humiliated when you dare to assume the seat next to him would be for you.

You walk for what feels like a very long time to the other side of the table, feeling eyes on you as every step is like your shoes are made of lead. You do your best not to clench your fists as your face grows hot in anticipation of being embarrassed in front of everyone.

Dipping your head, you refuse to look at Prince Friedrich and instead discreetly look at the place cards as you pass. The titles become increasingly grand as you approach the centre of the table until you reach the grandest of them all.

Her Majesty, Queen Charlotte.

His Royal Highness, Prince Friedrich.

Then you see your name. Etched in gold on eggshell paper. At the place setting beside Prince Friedrich’s.

You blink, feeling relief course through you. You’ve never sat this close to the Queen before. The centre of the table was reserved for distinguished guests like, well, Prince Friedrich.

“Lady Kettering, I hope you don’t mind me stealing you away from your usual dinner companions,” says Prince Friedrich, looking at your friends staring wide-eyed at you from the other end of the table.

“It’s my pleasure, Your Highness,” you say, giving them a sharp look. As the servers remove the cloches from the banquet before you, conversation erupts around the table, giving you the chance to swallow your pride. “And I do apologise for this morning,” you add quietly. “I had mistakenly assumed you were Prince Friedrich’s footman.”

“A footman?” He grins, and tilts his head, picturing himself as a footman before adding. “I too would like to apologise. I should never have assumed a beautiful woman such as yourself was a stable hand,” he says.

“When did you come to the realisation that I wasn’t?”

“I knew your horse’s name. When I asked who owned her, I was told it was a lady who was as wild as the horses she keeps.” Your mouth twists into a reluctant smile. “Is that true?” he asks, his green eyes twinkling with interest.

“Oh no,” you smile, sipping your freshly poured wine, aware of his eyes following your every movement. “My horses are very well-behaved.”

He laughs. It’s a pretty laugh. “Can I assume that means you are looking forward to the season beginning?” He gives you a wry smile. His eyes are alight with enthusiasm as he waits for you to share in his excitement for the beginning of the social season. But there’s something else in his gaze, something more intimate.

You must put an end to this before he gets the wrong idea and you’re made a spectacle of. Prince Friedrich will be the most sought-after man of the season and you don’t want the attention that accompanies competing for his affections - to be thrust into the spotlight and have Lady Whistledown write about you would be more attention than you could bear.

You glance around to see if anyone is listening before lowering your voice. “Your Highness - may I speak candidly?”

“Nothing would please me more,” he says sincerely, his tone softening.

“Why did you arrange for me to sit here?”

Prince Friedrich looks taken aback. “Well… after this morning, I knew I had to find out more about you.”

You nod sadly. This is what you were afraid of but you had expected it nonetheless.

“This is my second - and hopefully last - season. You see, I’m not used to being in the public eye and I find the social season to be entirely mortifying.”

“I see…” says Prince Friedrich slowly.

“You Highness, please don’t mistake me. I’m honoured to be in your presence but -”

“Lady Kettering -” Prince Friedrich lowers his voice. “You told me you would speak candidly. Please disperse with the airs and graces.”

You push your food around on your plate. It’s risky to speak so plainly to aristocracy. Their fragile egos normally demand a guarded formality. “I am sorry but the idea of competing with other women to become the Princess Consort of Prussia is more publicity than I can handle. I need to find a husband quickly. A marriage of convenience.”

“Convenience…” He nods thoughtfully. “I understand. A marriage to me would certainly draw attention.”

He’s not offended. Thank god. “Exactly, Your Highness. Being in the public eye. The scrutiny. It would be unbearable.”

“It is a pity,” he says quietly. “Because I’m sure a mutually convenient marriage would have its benefits.”

Mutually convenient? Your own inheritance pales in comparison to the riches that Prince Friedrich is heir to. What would he gain from marrying you?

You look up from your plate to see that he’s brazenly smirking at you.

Oh.

It’s undeniable this time. He’s flirting with you. You feel heat creeping up your neck and you know you must look feverish when his eyes roam across your corseted chest.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Your Highness,” you say, your whisper barely audible.

“I mean that sharing a marital bed would have its… advantages.” Prince Friedrich takes a sip of his wine, seemingly pleased that he’s made you flustered. Now, you can’t have that.

You glance over his shoulder to make sure Queen Charlotte is occupied. “I don’t need a husband to reap those sorts of advantages.”

When you say that, he slops half of his wine down his front in surprise. “You - you don’t?”

You arch an eyebrow. “You don’t have other companions for that sort of thing?” You pass him your napkin so he can clean himself up, your fingers grazing his knee under the table, making him inhale a sharp intake of breath. “You’re not worried about being unable to please your new wife?”

He stares straight ahead, momentarily stunned. Like he never realised sex was something you could be bad at. After a beat, he shakes his head. “It would not be prudent if people knew I was having - ”

“You mistake me. It is not my intention to get caught.”

Prince Friedrich sighs, a sad smile playing on his lips. “If only it were that simple. I’m surrounded by people. Always.”

The two of you sit quietly, allowing the servants to replace your empty plates with dessert. You can practically hear the cogs in the Prince’s head as his brain works overtime, trying to decide how to respond to this new information. Prince Friedrich takes a polite bite of chocolate cake and sits back.

“Once again, being the Queen’s nephew complicates things,” you say, sitting forward and sliding your fork through a sizable portion. “Don’t you have an appetite after your ride this morning, Your Highness?”

“I think the news that you do not wish me to court you has disappointed me so much that I never want to eat again,” he jokes half-heartedly before returning his focus entirely to you.

“If only we really were a stable hand and a footman - waiting until all the palace guests had gone to bed to meet in the stables after dark,” you say after eating the last bite of cake on your plate.

Prince Friedrich swallows thickly and your eyes move from his Adam's apple to the almost untouched piece of cake on his plate.

“Are you - are you still hungry, my lady?” he asks.

You lean forward and steal a scoop of whipped cream from his plate with your fork. You eat the whipped cream and he watches with bated breath as you take several seconds longer than necessary to drag the polished silver fork from between your lips.

"I'm insatiable, Your Highness."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You scratch Artemis’s head in the dark stables, wondering if you’ve made a mistake in being here. Mostly you were interested to see if the sweet, naive Prince Friedrich would turn up. But you know how noblemen are. Their egos are so easy to bruise that an adverturess could scare them off simply by existing.

Which is why you can scarcely believe it when there’s a knock at the closed stable door. You don’t breathe for a second before remembering that only Prince Freidrich would knock before entering a stable of all places.

He opens the door and for a moment is visibly relieved to see you. You stare at each other. The only sound is the soft rustling of the horses, that is until he closes the door behind him and moves to you with an agility that surprises you, considering how unstable he was on your horse earlier.

If he had no appetite earlier, it has certainly returned now. Prince Friedrich has a hungry look in his eyes as he pulls you close by the waist and kisses you. You squeeze your eyes shut, expecting a clash of teeth but his kiss is passionate, even skilled. Your shoulders untense as you relax into it and slide your arms around his neck, allowing him to pull your body against his. Even through the many skirts under your evening gown, you can feel that he’s hard.

His tongue enters your mouth, licking and swirling it against yours - it’s surprisingly good. And he smells good. A beautiful sandalwood cologne that can only be from the finest perfumery.

You pull back breathlessly before you can allow the inebriating scent and feel of him to rid you of your senses. “Prince Friedrich, I -”

“Please, just Freidrich.”

“Friedrich.” Even with his permission the name feels strange in your mouth. “How much romantic experience do you have?”

“I’ve read books,” he says quickly and you press your lips together to stop laughing.

“You mean romance books? Like Miss Butterworth and the Mad Baron?”

“No, I mean… instructional.”

“Instructions on how to fuck?” He nods and flushes a deep shade of pink at the question and this time you can’t help but laugh. “Remind me to spend time in the palace library in Prussia if I ever visit.” You study him. “I meant more… practical experience. It’s not the type of thing you can learn from a book.”

“I have a little experience.”

“Like what? Just kissing?” He hesitates and you move your hand down between your bodies and brush his hard cock through his trousers. “Or has anyone ever touched you like this before?”

Friedrich swallows. “Before now, you mean?” You nod and he hesitates again, guessing that it’s not the answer you want to hear. “No,” he says, truthfully.

You withdraw your hand. “Maybe this is something you should save for your future wife.”

“Marry me, then,” he blurts out, his voice trembling slightly with urgency.

You groan inwardly, shaking your head. “Friedrich, I wasn’t being coy when I told you I don’t want to be wed to a Prince. Besides, the season is starting tomorrow and you’ll be introduced to a hundred wealthy, beautiful women. Each one of them would be a better match than I.”

“Impossible.”

“You don’t know that -”

“I know that nobody has ever spoken to me the way that you did tonight. Or this morning for that matter.”

You smile despite yourself. You can believe it. If you were trying to secure the Prince’s hand in marriage, you would have carried yourself with much more grace and dignity than you have thus far.

“That’s because I have the manners of a common mule and the propriety of a common whore,” your grin falters and you look at him seriously. “And both of those qualities make me thoroughly incompatible with the Prince of Prussia. Marrying you is out of the question.”

“I understand,” he says, clearly worried that you’re reconsidering lying with him. “Let me be one of your companions. Show me how to do it.”

“Will you promise not to ask for my hand in marriage when this is done?”

Your hands undo the lacing on his trousers as he hitches his breath. “Anything. Sh-show me. Please.”

You remove your gloves and toss them on the stable floor. You slide your bare hand into his underwear and feel him shudder when you grip his cock. Christ almighty. It’s bigger than what you had expected from the innocent Prince.

“Since we’re practising so that you can please your future wife,” you tell him as you jerk your hand along his length. “I’ll tell you what feels good and what doesn’t. And you must do the same.”

He exhales shakily. “This - this feels good.”

“That’s a good start,” you smirk. “And you have a nice cock, Your Highness. The Princess Consort of Prussia will be a very lucky woman indeed once I’ve shown you how to use it.”

“Oha,” he breathes.

“So eager,” you tut playfully, your face inches from his.

You pull him close and he moans into your mouth as you kiss him. The sound of his evident pleasure sends heat tearing through you. You make a mental note to tell your future lovers to share their vocal appreciation because the sounds Prince Friedrich is making are driving you wild.

As you kiss him, you lead him over to the loose pile of straw and get to the floor. The straw is scratchy on your bare arms but your legs are thankfully spared by the protection of your skirts.

“When the time comes to do this with your lady wife, you should both undress. But our clothes will remain on - mostly. This is more convenient if there’s an unexpected intruder. Plus, this hay is itchy.”

“Allow me,” says Prince Freidrich, sitting back on his knees and pulling off his jacket. For a second you wonder if he’s misunderstood what you said about undressing but then he flattens his jacket on the straw behind you for you to lie on.

If you were the swooning type, you might just have fainted then and there.

“May I?” he asks, touching the hem of your skirt at your ankle. You nod and he pushes up your skirts. You lift your hips, allowing him to remove your satin underwear. “Verdammt,” he breathes. He moves his head between your legs and you almost sit up in surprise. You don’t mind him having a better look at you if it’s his first time but this feels extremely personal.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

He looks up at you and you pull your skirts close to your stomach. “My book - it said to kiss you here to make sure you are ready.” His face is so close to you that you can feel his hot breath against your pussy.

“Your book said to kiss me… there?” Your eyebrows knit together but you think about how his tongue felt swirling inside your mouth and a stab of ache pierces through your ribs.

“It is not customary?” You shake your head and he frowns in confusion but doesn’t move.

And you realise that you don’t want him to go anywhere. That the idea of him kissing you there in the skilled way he was kissing your mouth inflames you. Out of amused interest, you lift yourself up onto one elbow only to find him looking at you intently, hanging on your every word, waiting to find out what he should do. You realise that you rather like the look of him here, between your legs.

“You -” You swallow. “- You may try. If it pleases you. But I warn you, I - oh -”

Your warning dissipates into the air as Prince Friedrich leans down and glides his hot tongue deep into the seam of your pussy with absolutely no hesitation. You feel yourself relax as you let him get on with this custom he’s learned from his book. You admit, it’s not unpleasant. But you’re not sure what he’s trying to achieve.

It sort of feels like when you touch yourself. Maybe less dextrous but it’s hotter and wetter and - and -

Good lord.

Much to your surprise - and your delight - you feel a soft, delicious warmth spreading from your core as he kisses you where you’ve never been kissed before. You splay your fingers through his blonde hair - your other hand still clutching your dress as his velvet mouth envelops your clutch of nerves and a wave of pleasure cascades through your body.

“Oh - oh fuck,” you curse, not caring that you’re swearing in front of the Prince. He pulls back abruptly and you pant.

“My lady?” he asks. “Are you okay?”

“Yes - god, yes,” you whine, impatient for his mouth to return to you.

He looks at you with that same subtle glint of authority he gave you this morning and says, “In that case, you are not keeping up with your side of the bargain. You promised you’d tell me what feels good.”

Prince Friedrich dips his head and resumes, going from sucking on your clit to lapping up your juices and back again as you squirm and rock against him. This time you remember to hold up your side of the bargain. You pant and tell him how good his mouth feels - how good he feels. Everything is soaked, from your skirts to his chin and nose as he lets you grind yourself against his face.

The flat of his tongue slides across your heat and it’s heavenly. Usually, when you’re with a partner, you’re used to working hard for your release - at the exact right position and tempo to pry yourself apart. But right now you’re just lying back and taking what Prince Friedrich’s tongue offers to you. And it’s offering exactly what you need.

“Don’t stop,” you mewl. “So good. S’good. So good -”

You feel yourself unravelling, your praise and words of affirmation turning into an incoherent babble as your orgasm breaches the surface. You must be making some semblance of sense because he listens - he keeps going and it’s all too much and not enough at once as your walls squeeze around nothing while Prince Friedrich continues his delicious assault on your bundle of nerves.

Damn. You do your very best not to cry out and draw attention to the stables as Prince Friedrich gets closer and closer to making you cum on his tongue. But it’s nigh impossible as you feel the heat rise from your stomach and pull back like the tide.

And then there’s the drop you’d been waiting for.

“Oh - god,” you moan, drawing out the last syllable so that it drips as slowly as treacle. Ecstasy courses through your body as your release washes over you, making your thighs tremble on either side of the Prince’s head. Your chest heaves and you gently tug on his hair, away from your oversensitive cunt. “That’s - that’s good. It’s good. It’s enough,” you gasp before collapsing your head back onto his jacket.

Prince Friedrich gives you a few more slow, gentle licks and murmurs, “So feucht.” before drawing a finger over your twitching, soaking wet entrance, admiring his own handiwork. You don’t know what his words mean and you don’t have the cognizance to ask as you stare up at the wooden beams and try to regain your senses.

After what feels like a lifetime of bliss, you’re happy for your view of the stable roof to be interrupted when Prince Friedrich moves up your body to kiss you and you taste the unfamiliar taste of your arousal on his lips. You kiss him back, slipping your tongue into his mouth and nipping at his bottom lip. God, this was supposed to be you teaching him a few things - not the other way around. When you anonymise this encounter and retell it to your friends later they will certainly be hearing about this.

“Good?” he asks when he pulls back and you nod, before swallowing air.

“I have half a mind to sell my estate and move to Prussia after the social season is over if that is what they do there,” you say breathlessly.

He smirks. “I have told you that it could be arranged. Come home with me and we won’t have to be discreet. We could do this every day.”

You pout playfully and push a loose curl from his forehead. “But I like the stables,” you joke even though your back is aching and a palace bed sounds much more appealing.

“Well, we have stables in Prussia. You could bring Artemis.”

Artemis.

He remembered her name.

Your face softens as you picture her as a royal steed, wearing a white feathered plume like she’s the diamond of the season.

But then the fleeting daydream disappears when you tell yourself that it’s a fantasy you can’t allow either of you to indulge in. As much as Queen Charlotte favours you, you know it would be seen as unacceptable for the Prince to marry someone from such a minor house.

And besides, you remind yourself that you don’t need a royal husband. You have your own home. You have your own horses. You have your own friends. You have everything you’ve ever wanted. But then, why does the thought of him making his social season debut at the ball tomorrow make your heart ache?

“There’s something else I’d like to ride, presently,” you say, in an attempt to rid the thought from your mind as you gently push on his shoulders until he lies on his back.

You straddle the Prince and unfasten his trousers so you can pull his cock out. The sight of him, hard and ready for you and the way he twitches involuntarily in your palm makes your heart pound as hard and steady as horses hooves galloping.

You wriggle forward until you feel the smooth underside of his cock sliding under your messily slick folds, still wet from the orgasm the Prince had bestowed upon you with his mouth. A flicker of dark enjoyment ignites in you when you see a line between his brows as he knits them together and watches as you lift your skirts so he can watch you sliding back and forward along the length of his cock.

“Do you enjoy watching me do this, Your Highness?” you ask as you grind against him.

“I would enjoy watching you do anything,” he says, pushing your gown out of the way to take hold of your hips. “Du bist schön.”

You pause. “Do what?”

“Nothing. Please. Don’t stop.” He presses his thumbs into your hipbones, urging you to create friction against him again.

“You don’t want to fuck me?”

“Isn’t - isn’t that what we’re doing?” stutters Prince Friedrich.

“Oh, my sweet Prince.” You bring your hand to his jaw as you lift yourself so you can position the head of his cock between your soaking folds with your other hand. “We’re only just getting started.”

You lock eyes with him and watch his face contort in pleasure as you slowly sink down, inch by glorious fucking inch. “Oh gott,” he whines. Your German is poor but you’re pretty confident you know what that means.

“Let me know when you’re going to spill - I don’t want to carry your bastard,” you murmur, still cupping his face. “Do you understand?”

“Ja,” he says through gritted teeth. “I understand.”

You’re not sure he really does but that primal part of your brain that wants to fuck him now and worry about the consequences later tells you to shove your hips down against the resistance. You force the rest of his thick cock into you and inhale through your teeth, feeling the delicious way he stretches and fills you. His hands clamp down hard on your hips, his thumbs pressing fresh bruises into your hipbones.

They don’t make them like this in Kettering. Or London for that matter. Equal parts sweet and naive yet firm and decisive. He doesn’t know what he wants yet but he still wants it. Desperately.

As if proving your point, you lean forward to feel the beautiful way he drags out of you and he seizes the opportunity to bury his face into your cleavage, your corseted dress making it exceptionally easy for him.

He moans open-mouthed against your chest, his tongue sloppily trying to find your nipple. You move your hips back and down and wildfire bursts in your lower belly when his cock nudges against that sweet spot you’ve been longing for.

It’s not enough for him - he wants more. He lifts his hips and the tip of his cock drives against your G-spot.

“Oh - fuck. Freidrich. That feels good.”

“So it is okay for me to move too?” he asks.

“Please,” you murmur, closing your eyes and feeling him slide back into you at that perfect angle.

You don’t need to tell him twice.

He rolls his hips upwards to meet yours as you ride him. You can hear how fucking wet you are. Everything is slick and hot and drenched as you roll your hips up and down on top of him and he fucks himself into you.

“So schön,” he grunts and the foreign words sound guttural to your ears.

“I hope that means ‘good’,” you tease, leaning forward to breathe hot air onto his neck.

“Pretty,” he murmurs in your ear. “So pretty.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage as his hips pick up pace. Fuck - you like him being under you like this. Even here, in the stables where someone might come looking if they notice that Prince Friedrich is missing from his chambers.

The sound of your stretched, wet cunt fills the stables so obscenely that it peppers shame into your consciousness. But he hears it too. He jerks up so fiercely that his balls slap against you. You suck air in through your teeth at the sharp sting and he looks concerned but you reassure him. “It’s - oh fuck - keep going. Right there.”

You go from slamming yourself down on him to your whole body stiffening, letting him drive up into you as your hot orgasm approaches, creeping over you in pulsing waves. Your walls grip him, tightening and convulsing as -

“I should - tja - remove myself from inside you -” he stops thrusting up into you and you almost wail with disappointment.

“No - fuck - keep going.” What are you saying? You rock your hips and bounce on him, every nerve inside you applauding your decision to ignore your conscience as you manage to hang onto the precipice. “Don’t stop.”

“I’m going to -”

“Fuck it,” you heave, your walls squeezing impossibly tighter as you fuck yourself on him. “Cum in me. I don’t care.” What the fuck are you saying?!

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you breathe.

It’ll be fine.

You’ve had an accident or two and have been lucky so far.

You may as well have told the Prince that Christmas had come early. The sight of your flushed face, dishevelled hair and the way your tits are threatening to spill out of your dress with every bounce of your hips drives him wild.

Frankly, you’re the most deliciously intoxicating thing he’s ever experienced. He just doesn’t have the necessary vocabulary to tell you this in English.

By this point, “Oh gott,” is the only thing he says that you can understand. You hardly hear the rest as he babbles away in German - you can barely hear anything over the pulse of blood pounding in your ears as Friedrich picks up his pace again. Your body locks down around him so tightly you wonder if you might break him.

“Just like that - fuck, there,” you whimper. He takes the instruction well, driving his cock deep into you - exactly where you need it. The coil of heat in your core tightens impossibly tighter as he chokes words you don’t understand into your ear as he pulls you close to his chest

Maybe one day he’ll teach you what those words mean and you’ll find out that he was telling you what a good girl you are for taking his cock like this.

“Fuck - I’m - that’s it,” you sob, your chest heaving against his fine silk shirt and your fingers entwined in his soft blonde hair. You squeeze around him like a vice. “Friedrich, I -”

“Do it,” he groans. You hadn’t expected him to say that. And certainly not with the commanding tone he chooses. “Let me feel it.”

The coil inside you snaps. A blaze of white-hot fire bursts through you like stitches being ripped. You seize and cry out as your release whips through you with such force that you think you might go cross-eyed. You bury your face into his neck, smelling the rich sandalwood scent splashed on his skin, mixed with his sweat.

Freidrich keeps his tight hold of your hips, fucking into you even as you shake and tremble.

“Ich komme,” breathes the Prince. “Ich komme, ich komme.” It only takes a few more rough, slapping thrusts until you don’t have to guess what that means. You feel him finishing inside you, thick ropes of his spend painting your insides.

You lie here like this for a few moments, collapsed onto his chest and feeling his seed leaking out of you. You feel dizzy as his chest rises and falls underneath you and his fingers tenderly trace lines up and down your back. He closes his eyes, feeling the satin of your gown as his fingertips dance across it.

You could easily fall asleep like this.

Instead, you hoist yourself off him and lie flat on your back as if unattaching yourself from him will place a barrier between you. Put a halt to the immense surge of affection you feel for him in this moment. But he doesn’t let you get far. Prince Friedrich rolls onto his side and cups your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone and skirting across your lips before he leans down to kiss you. You close your eyes, letting the kiss dissolve into a wet, lazy haze.

He pulls back and looks down into your eyes. “I promised I would not ask for your hand when this was over. So I have nothing else to say.”

“At least now you are prepared for the social season beginning tomorrow.”

“I don’t care about the season. I want to leave. Tonight. To take you with me.”

“I don’t have the wealth or the beauty for that to be allowed to happen,” you say. “The Queen would never find us to be a suitable match. Never mind Lady Whistledown having a field day.”

“You have more than enough of both for me.”

“For you, Friedrich. But not enough for Prince Friedrich. Not enough for The Crown,” you say, your heart breaking as you do. This was a bad idea, after all. You adjust your gown and get to your feet, pretending to ignore Prince Friedrich’s attempts to help you up.

“And what about my - my seed? What if you’re with child?”

You laugh mirthlessly. “We’d have to be exceptionally unlucky for that to happen on our first try. Put it far from your mind. Go and meet with the diamond of the season tomorrow and all of the ladies queuing up to become the Princess Consort of Prussia. They will make you much happier than I ever could.”

You walk towards the stable door but he takes your hand and gives you your discarded gloves. “Please don’t go.”

“I’m sorry, Friedrich.” You can’t. You can hear the gossip already. A thousand people whispering behind your back about how you’re not good enough for the Prince. It would be like that every day for the rest of your life in the spotlight if you did marry him. You tear your eyes away from him and open the stable door.

“Will I ever see you again?” he asks after you.

You pause and turn around. “Perhaps.” You smile at him sadly. “Who knows? If I am with child, maybe you’ll have no choice but to whisk me away back to Prussia and marry me, never to be seen in London ever again. And everyone will wonder why.”

You turn back before he can see your face crumble, leaving the stable door open behind you as Prince Friedrich watches you leave into the night. Your mare whinnies, nudging him gently over her stable door.

Prince Friedrich gives in to her pestering and scratches her neck, much to her enjoyment. Before dawn, he will write a letter. To make sure a stall is prepared for Artemis in the palace stables in Prussia.

Just in case.

#bridgerton #prince friedrich #prince friedrich x reader #bridgerton smut #smut #fanfic

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iwritefandomimagines · 2 years ago

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FIRST AND LAST — PRINCE FRIEDRICH

masterlist

pairing: prince friedrich x reader

description: it has been tradition all season long that prince friedrich occupies your first and last dance of every evening. it is well known that his engagement is looming, so no man dares ask to take these dances from him. that is, until one clueless lord makes that awkward mistake.

warnings: pure fluff, tiny bit of jealousy from my sweet prince, but predominantly pure, tooth-rotting fluff !

“The season is almost over,” Daphne Bridgerton hummed, flitting her fan across her chest as you stood at the edge of the ballroom, “Do you think the prince might propose this evening?”

You laughed, watching as the prince eyed you from across the floor despite dancing with another young lady.

“I hope so,” you replied, pure happiness in your tone as you thought of the future you had discussed so extensively with the man who had won your heart with such ease, “Though he himself requested a long courtship. Oh, Daph, you should’ve heard him. He told me he was certain he was falling in love with me and wished to wed, but that he wanted to prolong our courtship to ensure I too was certain.”

“Gosh, Y/N, how romantic,” Daphne grinned.

“He is absolutely a dream,” you fanned yourself now too, growing flushed at the thought of just how deeply your feelings for the Prussian prince ran, “I of course told him I feel the same regardless, but he said that though he’d wed me in a heartbeat, it was fun to pretend we were still in the early stages of courting. And of course, I save every first and last dance for him and only him.”

Daphne was swooning at the prospect, and given her confusing situation regarding her ruse with the Duke, their sudden marriage, and how in love they quite clearly were, you were unsurprised that she was so excited to hear that your blossoming relationship was thriving so.

“Speaking of which, my dear friend,” she lifted your dance card from your wrist to see that as ever Prince Friedrich’s name graced the bottom of your card, “It appears you have danced with all others.”

As you looked away from her, you saw the prince smile in your direction, sending your heart into an absolute frenzy, “He appears to be on his way over!”

Before he could cross the floor, however, a gentleman you barely recognised obscured your view of the man you loved, stepping directly in front of you with a smile on his face.

“Lady Y/N,” the man bowed, “I am Lord Francis. I apologise for never making your acquaintance sooner, for my work and travels delayed my arrival in the Ton,” he took your hand to kiss its back, and as he leaned to do so you saw the prince behind him with a frown on his face, now mere meters away, “You are truly a diamond, and I should most certainly wish to know you more. You cannot imagine my relief upon seeing that you were yet unbetrothed. Might I have your next dance, my lady?”

You swallowed thickly, looking to Daphne for help but finding that she had slipped away amidst his little speech.

You were tempted to scoff at the man’s audacity to so abruptly ask of a dance at the end of the evening when he had chosen so late in the hall to introduce himself. And, of course, you were entirely uninterested.

Before you had the opportunity to respond, however, Prince Friedrich was at the man’s side.

“Ah, Lady Y/N,” he bowed, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it that lingered as he looked up at you and made you swoon, “Each time I see you in that necklace I am reminded why I selected it for you. It was made for you, to be sure.”

You giggled shyly, both feeling giddy around the man you loved and at the clear reason for his choice of words. He was here to assert his place, jealousy coursing through his royal blood.

“Oh your highness,” you curtsied, “Thank you again for the beautiful gift. I was wondering when you might return to share my last dance, as always. I do so look forward to it,” you flashed your dance card to the rather impertinent Lord Francis with a falsified frown, “I do apologise, my lord, but I have not yet shared my final dance with anyone but the Prince. And I do not wish to change that tradition.”

The gentleman scampered away without another word, leaving the prince to capture you in his arms and lead you to the dance floor.

“I am certainly glad to be rid of that fool,” he grumbled, and you reached up to run your thumb along his cheekbone soothingly, internally frustrated that the action would end up in Lady Whistledown’s writings the next day.

Your voice was barely above a whisper, “Oh my love, you needn’t worry. You know that if I could I would dance only with you the entire night.”

The prince was more than satisfied with this, a broad smile gracing his strong features as you continued the rhythm of the waltz you found yourself in.

“I am pleased to hear that, to be sure,” he beamed, “And once this dance is through, I hoped we might have a moment to talk. Perhaps on the balcony?”

You nodded softly, “Any moment with you, I could never deny myself.”

He smiled, and as the dance drew to a close you found yourself growing nervous.

Had this small moment of jealousy spurred on a proposal? Or perhaps he had always intended to propose tonight?

Perhaps it was not a proposal at all, and he just wished for some fresh air and a chance to chatter away from the eyes and ears of the ballroom?

You caught Daphne’s eye as you followed the prince outside, noticing her eyes widen in excitement as she too expected you to return to the ballroom engaged.

You bit your lip, allowing yourself to share her excitement for just a moment before nerves slipped into your mind again.

You reached the balcony after what felt like hours, with time seeming to progress in slow motion as you waited to hear what it was the prince wished to discuss.

“My dearest Lady Y/N,” he began, capturing both of your hands in his as his eyes twinkled down at you in the moonlight, “You must know that since we met, you have been the sun around which I revolve. You captured my heart the very moment I first saw you, and with every discussion of a future I have grown more certain that it is with you I wish to build a life, a home, a family,”

“Oh my dear prince,” you were certain you could taste blood, your heart pounding with anticipation as it truly sunk in just what was going on, “You must know that the feeling has always been entirely reciprocated. Every moment I have spent with you has been blissful, and I rather selfishly wish for an eternity of such moments.”

He shook his head, “It is not at all selfish, my dove. For it is what I wish for too. An eternity with the love of my life at my side, wherever we might find ourselves.”

You shared a brief moment of comfortable silence, staring into each other’s eyes as you could think about nothing but his gentle touch and romantic words.

He was everything you could’ve dreamed of in a man, and now here he was professing that he too was enamoured by you.

Even though he had made it quite clear how he felt before, in this very second everything felt as though it fell perfectly into place.

The true love you always dreamed of finding but never expected to… He was right here, about to ask for your hand and sweep you off of your feet.

“It is for this very reason, my love,” he began again, keeping his hold of your left hand but dropping to his knee in a split second, “That I find myself desperate to ask — will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

“My gosh!” you exclaimed, nodding excitedly as he slipped the most beautiful ring onto your finger and rose to his feet again, “I would love to. I can think of no future more exciting than one as your wife.”

He kissed your hand again, now peppering kisses around the ring he had just given you, sending sparks throughout your body at his delicate touch.

“I cannot wait to begin our life together properly, as man and wife,” he grinned, reaching to push a stray hair from your face as he spoke, “Free of meddlesome gentlemen who have no regard for one’s prior commitment.”

“My darling, you truly had no need to worry,” you giggled, lifting your free hand to your mouth to stifle it a little, “He could not hold a candle to you, and I would never have given up my dance with you for him. I wish always for my first and last dance to be with you… And every dance in between.”

He pulled you flush to his chest now, spinning you softly to the faint sound of the orchestral tune still playing in the ballroom.

“Then my every dance is yours, my love,” he hummed, discreetly pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he spun you around, “Always and forever.”

“I love you,” you were truly in a state of pure bliss as you danced, choosing to ignore that you were most certainly being watched, “More than I can ever express.”

“I love you as such also, my future princess,” he replied, pausing your dance just to look at you intently again for just a second before he spoke, “And I shall spend our whole life showing you.”

“I am so incredibly lucky to have fallen in love with you,” you shook your head in disbelief, still smiling up at him.

“It is I who is lucky,” he disagreed, looking up into the night sky littered with stars, “And the stars in the sky are lucky to every day be graced with your existence too.”

��You flatter me, my love.”

“And I intend to continue to remind you how wonderful you are, my dove,” he practically whispered, dipping his head lower so that you could feel his breath fanning over your face, though not close enough to induce any more scandal than your balcony dance might already have done.

“It’s a pleasure to be forever your first and last dance… And I can only hope to be your first and last love, if you would let me. For you most certainly shall be mine.”

“You shall be mine too, my love. I am certain of it.”

———

ok fluffy af because i am currently in looove with the prince and idk where it came from but i had to write this once i had the idea!!!

if you have any requests (right now preferably bridgerton, djats or criminal minds) then please feel free to send them in and i’ll make a start this week!

also pleaaase let me know in comments/reblogs what you think!

in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

#bridgerton #bridgerton imagines #bridgerton imagine #prince friedrich #prince friedrich x reader #prince friedrich x y/n #prince friedrich x you #prince friedrich imagine #prince friedrich imagines

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butterflybuckethat · 4 months ago

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Crybaby

Hello! Found this sitting in my drafts so I thought I’d post it. I’m trying to return so please be patient with me and I appreciate all of your kind words 💕 My plan is to start fresh and expand from Bridgerton (currently in a bit of a Carmen Berzatto shaped hole — stay tuned!)

Notes: Prince Friedrich x Bridgerton!Reader

Request: I would like to request prince friederich x Bridgerton reader, cause I love him so much. Preferably something really cute and fluffy or he finds reader crying and comforts her either way I’ll be happy thank you

🦋 Masterlist 🦋

You were being ridiculous, you knew you were and yet you couldn’t keep the tears from flowing. You cried often, over a wide range of somethings--anywhere from a spilt milk to death. Your siblings teased you often, mostly after you were finished weeping. Mostly.

It was Daphne’s birthday, and you being the sibling closest to her--in age and affection--decided that you would plan her an extravagant birthday party; a surprise extravagant birthday party.

It had taken you an entire month to bring it all together and, as far as you could tell, Daphne suspected nothing. You had it all set up with crystal butterflies and floral accents and lemonade infused with exotic fruits. It was shaping up to be an absolute crush with the entirety of ton buzzing in anticipation of the birthday girl’s arrival. You even managed the attendance of Prince Friedrich of Prussia.

“Where is Daph?” Colin sidled up to you, an eclair already stuffed in his mouth.

“You mean she’s not in the carriage?”

“How am I do know if she’s in the carriage or not?”

“Colin,” you huffed, “you were to ensure that she got into the carriage we scheduled for her.”

“Oh.”

Your vision went blurry as tears began to well, “Colin, how could you?” Despite the frequency, you were still embarrassed by the rasp of your voice. Colin apologized profusely, doing everything but getting on his knees. He could never handle your tears, none of your brothers could; only Benedict, whose response was a roll of his eyes and a half-hearted hug.

“I will find her, Y/N. I’m sure she is on her way.” People were staring now and you were praying no one could see your tears. You brought your hands to your cheeks, feigning checking your rouge but really soaking the tears in your gloves. “I will fix this,” Colin said, placing his hands on your shoulders.

You felt the tears welling up again as you watched Colin make a beeline to the butler and could feel Cressida Cowper’s judgmental eyes narrowing on you. You swiped a glass of lemonade off the table and moved into the smaller of the two drawing rooms. It was closed off to the public allowing you to plop down on the divan, take some deep breaths, and press the cool glass to your swollen eyes.

“Lady Bridgerton?” The room was dark but you couldn’t mistake the accent, it was Prince Friedrich.

“Your highness!” you stood so fast some lemonade spilled onto the carpet.

“Please,” he gestured for you to sit but remained mostly in the doorway with the door wide open, for propriety’s sake. “I only wanted to check if you were alright.”

“I did not mean to take you from the party,” you demurred. He dismissed that thought with nothing more than a gesture. “I’m certain Daphne will arrive shortly.”

“I’m more concerned about you.” He stepped into the room, close to the arm of the sofa. You breath caught in your throat. This...was strange.

You had spoken to the Prince before, of course. Nothing serious but he had his sights on Daphne and, subsequently, you were frequently in close proximity. “I did not mean to cause a scene,” you were a little flustered at this point and were just searching for words to fill the space.

“I don’t think any of the guests noticed...”

“My tears?”

“Your tears,” he nodded. Prince Friedrich had not moved but you could have sworn he got closer. “I believe this is the third time I have seen them.”

You started to groan before you forced it to die on your tongue--it was terribly unladylike, especially in front of a prince. “I’m embarrassed.”

“Please, don’t be.” His hand ghosted over your wrist and your blood rushed.

“I can’t help it. I cry so often my mother used to call me Blue.” You pressed the glass back against your face in an attempt to quell your blush, but Friedrich laughed. It was kind of a deep chuckle; not much but it made you smile.

“I rather like that, Blue,” he mused.

“Daphne is here!” someone cried from the ballroom and you rushed over, helping people hide behind tables and walls before hiding yourself. Most of the candles were blown out, dimming the room completely. You, yourself, hid behind a large centerpiece with Friedrich beside you. You were much too enthralled with all your planning coming to fruition to appropriately react to the Prince of Prussia being mere inches from you.

“We aren’t supposed to enter the ballroom, Colin!” Daphne chastised, “it’s being painted!” You smiled a little at her belief in your ruse. You could feel Friedrich’s eyes on you, just a glance, but all your hair stood on end.

“You’re scared of paint, Daphne?” Colin teased. She would be mortified when she found out he said this in front of so many people.

“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous-”

“Surprise!” you jumped out, along with the rest of the guests, as the servants lit the rest of the candles.

“Well done,” the prince whispered, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Now go accept your praise. No more tears tonight.”

#prince friedrich fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #prince friedrich imagine #prince friedrich #prince friedrich x reader #prince friedrich x you #requested #crybaby

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undiscoverable-words · 7 months ago

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Late Night Talking

I. The Debut

Phoebe was not sure what she was going to tell Penelope. She sat in the carriage across from her mama and rubbed her sweating palms across her knees. It didn’t help. Her mind flooded with her father’s threats after she returned to London, disgraced. There was no accounting for what could have happened to her, and for his slack she was grateful, but it all still made her stomach turn.

“You will do great, dear.” Her mother promised, giving an unconvincing smile.

A young woman’s debut was one of the most important moments of her life, as it helped shape and determine the debutante’s future. But after everything that occurred during her year away, Phoebe felt lucky to get a debut at all. She was sure her father would disgrace her and forfeit his title and estates to a distant nephew or cousin, and yet he allowed her debut. Calling Cecil generous was rare among their circle, everyone knew the way he truly behaved, but in this moment Phoebe would describe her father as generous.

Phoebe mirrored her mother’s weak smile and clenched her fists in her lap as she gazed outside at the trees going past on their way to the palace. There was plenty to dread about the afternoon, and her buzzing brain could not decide what to worry about the most: perfecting her debut, re-entering London society, or seeing Queen Charlotte again for the first time in a month. The viscous scowl that etched the Queen’s face the last time she laid eyes on Phoebe made the debutante shudder, even now. And at the memory, her heart began to ache.

During her year abroad, Phoebe had been fortunate enough to become acquainted with Prince Friedrich of Prussia. It had taken a handful of encounters for him to admit why he was in France, but once he admitted he was recessing from the London season after a failed attempt at finding a wife, Phoebe had to ask him all about it, and what she had missed.

She had felt guilty for missing the chance to debut with one of her closest friends, Daphne Bridgerton, but was intrigued by the Prince’s tale that happened to involve her a great deal. As he went on, Phoebe felt disappointed at his interest in her friend, and then elated to find out that Daphne had found herself a love match with the Duke. And the joy was wholly selfless, as she felt more excited for Daphne to be in love than she did for the Prince’s availability, though she had to admit it was nice to know he was not spoken for.

Phoebe would be lying if she had said Prince Friedrich was not attractive. She loved to see him smile, his whole face lighting up with joy, and his eyes bright. His blond hair shined in the sunlight, and his accent was more charming than she had expected, although maybe it was his personality and temperament that charmed her.

“It’s too bad,” She said, feeling bold, and warm from the flutters in her stomach. “I was meant to debut this season, if I were there perhaps it would not have gone so poorly for you.”

The Prince flushed, but reassured her that he was charmed by her words and not at all offended by her courage.

“The season is not over, Miss Pembroke, perhaps it is lucky that I met you now.” He said, returning her sentiment.

He called on her often after their revelation. Phoebe felt like the luckiest girl in the world to enjoy her time abroad with such perfect company. When they were together time warped as if they had known each other for years and as if time went at lightspeed in each other’s presence. After weeks of courting, the prince wanted to propose to Phoebe. He invited her to meet his aunt, Queen Charlotte, and assured Phoebe that the Queen only wanted him to be happy, and to find a suitable Princess.

“Do not worry, my love, once she meets you she will be just as charmed as I, and agree to have us married post-haste.” Friedrich reassured, with a loving, doting smile as he enveloped her hand in his.

He moved to caress her face, and nearly kissed her in that moment. His breath fanned her cheek as she stared up into his bright blue eyes and already felt as if she could not breathe.

“Marry you?” The Queen scoffed, eying Phoebe.

Friedrich reached for Phoebe’s gloved hand and gave it a squeeze as he pleaded with his aunt.

“She was meant to debut this season, Tante, it is fated that we met and formed a love connection, don’t you think?” He tried.

The Queen looked on at Phoebe, wholly unimpressed.

“No matter the consequences, you shall have a wonderful season, darling, I can feel it.” Amelia said, pulling her daughter away from the ghostly memory of her freedom and happiness.

Phoebe nodded, offering a hum, but not moving her gaze from the window. She was not as sure as her mother that things would go well.

Friedrich followed Phoebe through the gardens, trying to reach her. Once he finally grabbed hold of her hand, he spun her to face him. She did not want him to see her so ashamed, so she cast her eyes to her shoes in the dirt.

“Darling, it is no matter. We can marry whether Tante blesses it or not. I know of a place that will marry us expeditiously, and then we can be happy together and build a life, and one day look back on today and laugh.”

Phoebe’s heart lurched, aching, both sad and hopeful.

There was no doubt that upon reflection the plan to run away was entirely flawed and shortsighted on both sides, though Phoebe still felt every last reverberation of heartache once it all fell apart.

The carriage halted, arriving at the palace. If the scorching sun, tight corset, and high stakes were not enough to make Phoebe feel faint, the utter number of debutantes made her feel suffocated and insignificant. Her breathing felt sharp as she stepped down from the carriage and waited for her mother to join her.

The pair had agreed to meet in the early morning hours, prepared for a long journey on the way to their nuptials. When Phoebe reached the main foyer, there were royal guards standing in her path. She was informed that Prince Friedrich was shipped off to Austria alone, and that Phoebe was never allowed to see him again.

Phoebe spent the rest of her year abroad focussing on writing, and practicing her musical talents, as well as her French. She returned home to an angry father and a smudged reputation. This was also when Phoebe learned that Queen Charlotte was an incurable gossip, and was not afraid to disgrace the young Miss Pembroke for daring to fall in love with her nephew the prince.

And now she stood in front of the Royal Palace, waiting to present herself to the Queen alone this time, hoping to not be disgraced further. All the while her father’s words rang through her mind as she made her way up the front steps, arm in arm with her mother.

“You stupid, foolish girl! Now no one will have you when you make your debut. That is not what we had planned for you. You have ruined yourself!” He yelled, causing Phoebe to flinch, and hide the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Now, Cecil, surely we can find someone willing to marry her and still love her.” Her mother tried, earning a nasty scowl from her father.

“By God, Amelia, does she get her stupidity from you? Is that where it was inherited?”

Amelia gasped, and Phoebe stared as her parents argued.

“What about the Bridgerton boy? He, too, just came home from traveling, and he also had a disgraceful engagement blunder last season. Surely he would be happy to court our Phoebe.”

The debutante in question watched as her parents schemed a sure-fire match for her without considering consulting her.

“That’s it! You must marry Colin Bridgerton. Do not disgrace yourself or our legacy further, but do what you must to enamor him with you. I will not let you become a spinster.”

“Oh, yes! I shall set up another appointment with the modiste to be sure to get the most lavish, breathtaking, eye-catching dresses for our little girl!” Amelia beamed, leaving the room to make the arrangements.

Cecil turned to his daughter, a look of disappointment, pity, and disgust piled into his wrinkles.

“There, girl. We’ve found a solution for you. Do not ruin this more than you already have.”

Phoebe hoped she would not run into Penelope until later in the week, perhaps at tea, or during a promenade, though none of those seemed like the right time to tell one of her best friends that she must marry the man who holds that friend’s heart.

#fanfic #ao3 #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #late night talking #colin bridgerton #colin x reader #colin x penelope #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #colin bridgerton fanfic #prince friedrich #prince friedrich x reader

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laurenluvss · 7 months ago

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please hear me out on prince friedrich 🤭💕

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angels17324 · 2 years ago

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Chance Masterlist

Prince Friedrich x Fem! Reader

Summary: (Y/n) ((L/n) was just your average debutante. At least that’s what she liked to think, she wasn’t the diamond of the season. No, that honor was given to one of her closest friends Daphne Bridgerton. She also wasn’t one to create or spread a scandal, though that doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy reading about them from time to time in Whistledown.

Currently, the latest rumor in the gossip sheet was now about a Prince joining them for the season all the way from Prussia! All the ladies of London were buzzing about him though not a single one of them had met him… yet.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, and anything else I’ll potentially think of

Status: On Going

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 (Coming soon)

Chapter 10 (Coming soon)

Epilogue

Feel free to ask me any questions if you have any for this series

#bridgerton #prince friedrich #prince friedrich x fem reader #prince friedrich x reader #masterlist #chance masterlist

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cinnamonspicewritingroom · 1 year ago

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More Than Diamonds

Pairing: Prince Friedrich x Princess! Reader Description: Britain has gained themselves a new royalty nearing the debutante ball of 1813. Princess Amelia of Siam was sent as the new Ambassador of Siam. In Britain Princess Amelia was able to find her family, but will that be all? Tags: Tags: Slow burn, Coming of age, Time-Travel, Back to the past, Friends to Lovers, Royalties, Oblivious!FLxObvious!ML, Jealous! Friedrich, Slightly Possessive! Friedrich, Black cat gf, Golden retriever bf Timeline: S1&S2

Princess Amelia of Siam

"What romance? I have no time for such nonsense. I was merely attempting to forge a diplomatic relation between Siam and Prussia." - Amelia Chaiya Kanika, Princess of Siam

Prince Friedrich of Prussia

"Truthfully I am afraid. It felt like I'm the only one falling, while she stayed rooted... Unmoved. I want her, yet I do not want to lose what we have... To sacrifice what we have built." - Prince Friedrich of Prussia

Daphne Basset (nee. Bridgerton)

"Amelia is different... She is uptight and serious, but at the same time extremely intelligent. Unfortunately, romance is a foreign subject for her and I think... There is nobody more fitting to teach her than you." - Daphne Basset (nee. Bridgerton)

Anthony Bridgerton

"I would say out of all Bridgerton, we are the most similar... Which is why I hope for you to learn from my mistakes. Life is short Mel, you need to enjoy it while it lasts. Doing something you want is not selfish... Loving someone is not selfish." - Anthony Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

"Say, Mel... What is your idea of fun? One which excludes activities that require you to think? Frankly I think you need it. Go outside, make friends, go to parties and promenades. Have fun. For sometime, forget your responsibilities and live a little." - Benedict Bridgerton

Colin Bridgerton

"I understand what you meant. How looking at this brought you peace, but Mel... Don't you think you too need to start listening to that advice?" - Colin Bridgerton

Charlotte of Mcklenburg-Strelitz

"I suppose for him a mere diamond won't do. She must be the epitome of perfection. An intelligent, beautiful and elegant woman. Who fits better for a prince than an actual princess?" - Queen Charlotte

Meet The Cast of 'More Than Diamonds' | More Than Diamonds Master List

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mxrcjqckspnchqsc · 2 years ago

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Hiii! If you're accepting requests for prince Friedrich (bridgerton), could I get a Friedrich and reader fic where theyre royalty too and frenemies? And they end up at the same ball and have to dance tgt (obv)? The next day lady whistledown and the ton out there shipping the two so they have to keep up appearances and promenade together all the time? Eventually fall in love!! (+ points if they childishly argue through the whole dance) thanksss💕

Is It Love Or Hate?

Summary: Read request above!

Prince Friederich x gn!reader

Genre: Fluffiest of fluff, (It's also the only thing I can write about but moving on)

Warnings: Romantic themes, strong language(not really just good old british slang that I love very much), and It is a gender neutral reader, y/n(aka you or just plain old y/n) is a princess and wears a dress in this one-shot!!

A/N: Omg omg omg this is my first request, this is so exciting! This request is so cute, I hope you like it! Also I'm sorry for some of the writing is in third person, I just don't really like first person. And I'm sorry this took too long, I'm quite busy with stuff(school) atm. And now because of this request, I wanna make a prince Friederich fanfic lol but I hope you guys enjoy this one-shot!!(Also this isn't proofread so if there are any errors do tell me!)

Y/n groaned at the thought, they were going to yet again another ball, y/n loved being a royal and all but that meant they had the possibility of seeing him, Prince Friederich, Y/n had mixed feelings about him, they would love him and then the next minute, they hate him. As I finally laid down on the couch, my mother busted in, causing them to jump up.

"Mother, what is it? Why must you rush in here as if I did something wrong?!?" I asked.

"Oh no dear, it's just your dress is finally done! You just have to wear it for tonight's ball." Y/m/n explained as she gave you the dress. "Doesn't the color look nice?"

I had to agreed, the colors on the dress were absolutely stunning, y/f/c always looked good on them, always.

"Well I must agree, the dress does look nice." I agreed.

"Perhaps you might even find the one," Y/m/n teased.

"You said that as the last fifty balls," I exaggerated. "It seems people only see me for my looks Mother, nothing more, I told you many times that I wanted to marry for love."

"Then find someone you love, my dear. You know I will always support you." Y/m/n smiled at you and left moments after.

Y/n changed into the dress and was suprised on how the dress complimented her very well.

"Are you ready to go-?" Y/m/n asked as she busted in the room but stopped once she saw y/n. "My dear, you look beautiful."

"Yes mother I am ready to go," I placed the tiara on her head. "Thank you but we must not make haste," I reminded.

"Oh yes yes!" Y/m/n exclaimed. "We shall go to the carriage at once." Y/m/n announced.

Y/m/n linked her arm with Y/n and they left and headed to the ball, moments later, they had arrived.

"I'll be on the lookout for potential suitors, and you Y/n shall be the princess you are and dance with two men tonight." Y/m/n said.

"One," I corrected.

Y/m/n sighed knowing that Y/n wouldn't listen to her. "Fine, you must dance with one man tonight."

"Good, Ah I think I see the Duchess of Hastings right there. I'll leave you be mother!" I called out.

Before Y/n could make her way to Daphne, she was stopped by the one of the many men she didn't want to see tonight.

"You highness, Princess Y/n," Lord Gray bowed down infront of her. "May I have your first dance?" He asked, holding out his hand.

Y/n was about to tell him off when someone did it for her and she didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"Actually, the Princess had already offered her first dance on her dance card with me." Prince Friederich explained.

"Oh, I see," Lord Gray seemed to buy the lie and walked away.

"Shall we?" Friederich held his hand out.

Y/n only glared at him before taking his hand, the two royals made their way to the dance floor.

"Now look at what you did," I whispered. "I only wanted to dance with one man tonight and now you're fulfilling my mother's wishes and I'm going to dance with two."

Prince Friederich only snickered in response.

"Well I apologize for doing that but it seemed like you didn't want to dance with him." Friederich stated the obvious.

"Yeah well I didn't want to dance with you either and here we are." I smiled sarcastically.

"You can blame my aunt on that, she actually insisted I'd dance with you first tonight." He replied.

Prince Friederich dipped you and pulled you close, making you gasp, he noticed this and backed away. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked confused.

"For making you uncomfortable," He answered rather quickly.

"If anything, you actually made me feel more safe from the viscount, I can see him glaring at us" I laughed and smiled at him, causing him to smiled back as he pulled you in close again.

...

"Y/n, Oh Miss Y/n! Wake up! Your highness, it is urgent!" Evelyn, one of the lovely servants shook you awake.

"I'm up," I mumbled, not fully awake.

"Lady Whistledown wrote about you and the Prince from the dance, you must read!" Evelyn exclaimed.

"Can I atleast get out of my bed first?" I asked, Evelyn nodded excitingly before leaving.

Y/n got up and ready and finally headed down the stairs where they was greeted by not only Evelyn but their mother as well.

"So Lady Whistledown wrote about me in her paper?" I asked.

Y/m/n nodded happily and gave you the paper. When you were shocked, Lady Whistledown wrote about the two of you dancing and how you two would make quite a lovely couple but before you could read anymore, you got called upon by Prince Friederich, he seemed to have read the latest issue quickly this morning.

"Your highness," Evelyn bowed down at him before he stopped her.

"Oh please, just call me Friederich, is Y/n awake yet? I hope I didn't wake her, I just wanted to have a little chat." Friederich smiled.

"And does your little chat include those lovely y/f/fs?" I asked.

I made my way to him and Evelyn, who now exited the room once she took notice of my appearance.

"Oh these," Friederich looked at them as well. "I didn't send them, maybe Lord Gray no Gary sent them." He teased.

Due to his teasing, I snorted and I quickly covered my mouth in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I normally never do that."

"It's fine, it was quite adorable if I were to be honest." Friederich smiled.

I blushed at his words and smiled softly but quickly changed my expression as I still had no idea what he was doing here so I asked. "Well if you will allow me to Prince-"

"Friederich," He cut you off.

"...Friederich, what are you doing here?" I asked.

"I was just going to ask if well considering what Whistledown wrote about us, maybe she should write about us even more if you give me the opportunity to court you and take to on a promenade?" He asked.

My eyes widened at his words, he wanted to court me out of all people but I realized that maybe this was just his aunt's doing.

"Are you sure that you want to court me and this isn't your aunt's doing because if it is then I'm gonna have to-" I was cut off again.

"No!" He exclaimed before clearing his throat. "My apologies, I did this on my own. My aunt has no idea I am even here." He chuckled.

"Oh, then yes, I would be delighted to be courted by the only prince I seem to know." I laughed.

...

Y/n and Friederich have been courting for quite awhile now, making this their fifth time going on a promenade, Y/n had developed feelings for him and was wondering just as everyone else was thinking once they saw the latest issue "When will he propose?"

"This is the fifth time we're out to promenade, can we please go somewhere else Friederich?" I asked in a hushed whisper. "The sun is practically setting!"

"Please Y/n, just called me Freddie and to answer your question, we can't go somewhere alone, you know that but perhaps a boat ride would be nice."

"Or hunting or we can pretend to get lost in a flower field?" I suggested.

"A flower field would be nice, hm there is one there," He held up his arm. "Shall we go?"

"We shall," I smiled. "Mother, we'll be right back. We're going to pick some flowers from the field!"

"Okay, stay safe!" Y/m/n exclaimed.

But Y/m/n was distracted with Lady Danbury that she didn't even notice that the two royals weren't going to the flower field but instead the woods.

"Ah the woods, why did you take us here Freddie," I asked.

Friederich blushed at the nickname even though he suggested it but brushed it off.

"I wanted to look at the nature, nature is quite interesting. I mean just look at that bird!" He exclaimed in a hushed whisper.

"That bird does look quite fascinating." I comments, making him smile wide.

"I never saw those in Prussia so they are new to me," Friederich revealed.

"Well maybe if you stay here a little longer then maybe you'll see more," I smiled at him.

"Yeah maybe," Friederich smiled.

I took my eyes off him and laid down to look at the sunset, He laid down beside me.

"It's quite beautiful isn't it?" I asked, referring to the setting sun.

"Yeah, it's breathtaking." He whispered, still staring at me.

I looked back at him when he was indeed already staring, he didn't take one look at the sunset and kept his eyes on me. I blushed and tried to look away when his hand caressed my face and leaned in, he kissed me and I kissed back. When we broke apart, he sat up, I repeated the action and we kissed again, he mumbled something in the kiss that I couldn't decipher..

"Freddie, what did you say?" I asked, my hand resting softly on his cheek.

"I wish to marry you Y/n, I'm in love with you." He confessed.

"The night of the ball when we danced, I lied to you, my aunt didn't say anything about you at all, I chose to dance with you that night because not only are you breath taking, you are the only person that I love competing with and poking fun at with, you're the only person who knows the real me and I love for that, I love that you let me in and that you trust me and you share all your conspiracies about who Whistledown is, you're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, kids or no kids, in London or in Prussia. I want you just the way you are because I'm smitten and I love you oh so much. And I completely understand if you don't desire me the same but I couldn't keep it in any longer and I-" Friederich was cut off by you kissing him again, more passionate this time.

When you pulled away, you spoke. "I love you too, I would say that I want you but that's a lie, I need you and I just can't possibly see my life without you in it. Without you, I could probably be married to Lord Gray and I know we are both happy that isn't the reality," We both chuckled before I continued. "Freddie, just know this. No matter where we are or who we're with, I will always be looking at him and with you because you are now my husband to be, and I wish to be your wife forever." I confessed.

I rested my head on his chest and I heard his heartbeat making me calm, I closed my eyes and hugged him, he hugged me back.

"Your wish has been granted, my love." Prince Friederich kissed the top of my head.

#bridgerton imagine #prince friedrich x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #x gn reader

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infiniteimaginings · 10 months ago

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〔𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘩〕

Started: February 18th, 2024 Updated: February 18th, 2024

All my writings for Prince Friedrich - Bridgerton

None yet

#prince friedrich #bridgerton prince friedrich #prince friedrich x reader #bridgerton prince friedrich x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader

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gavvaiins · 2 years ago

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Hello did you finish Love to hate you or is it on hiatus 🤔

Funny that you ask anon, funny that you ask. Just today I thought about it, got some ideas and did some research. And well, it is neither…kinda? 🫠 the newest part is collecting dust in my Google drive, it got rewritten multiple times bc I wasn’t satisfied with the end and perspectives but honestly, I’m thinking of uploading it anyway, next week or rather I will try to.

Why it’s neither finished, nor really on hiatus but it’s not discontinued either? One day I got „a new idea“ for love to hate you and got motivated to give it a fixer upper, a reboot. Mainly I want to give it a plot the story can follow and plan it a bit through before I start writing it. Of course s1 and chapter 1 „aired“ years ago and I’m aware that I’ve likely lost many readers, but even if just a handful of you (or even none) will enjoy reading the next/last chapter and the reboot, it’s more than I could ever ask for. Honestly, all of you had been so nice and I enjoy the story and the characters so much, that I just want to write them. 😌

Sadly, I currently don’t always have that much time to write 🥲 but time will come … and honestly I’ll probably procrastinate smth with writing or planning (like today). But anyway :)

The answer isn’t really what you asked for anon, but I guess your message is a ✨ sign ✨

Anyway, what’s planned so far:

Match-making mess, more Lady Danbury bc it makes a little bit more sense for her trying to couple the Germans, so that she can her simon x Daphne endgame ship

Insights in Friedrich and her past/childhood, why they loath each other

Lady Bavaria being her little gremlin self, maybe even a little more

Her being a menace to society Friedrich‘s life and sanity

Following less the episodes of s1

some new characters (which I hope you’ll love 👀👌)

chaos and drama

Hopefully coming soon, but sadly I can’t promise much 😔

#nonnie #what in the planet constellations?#Schicksal einfach lol :))))#lthy #love to hate you #prince friedrich x reader

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spencersfish · 2 years ago

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Prince Friedrick Fic Recs

Series by @sumsebien

By Design Series by @sumsebien

#Prince Friedrich #Prince Friedrich x reader #prince friedrich fanfic #Bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic

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inutheangel · 8 months ago

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My favs list of Bridgerton Writers is ever growing

series masterlist (complete)

This series follows Y/N Bridgerton, a Bridgerton sister who falls in love with Prince Friedrich against all odds.

It will be divided into two main stories:

Your Highness which will be courting cuteness

I’ll be in ruins for you which will contain more angst in their fight for true love.

Your Highness

1// in which Y/N Bridgerton makes quite the first impression on Prince Friedrich

2// in which Y/N Bridgerton finally hears what Prince Friedrich had been meaning to say in the gallery

3// in which Y/N Bridgerton faces a difficult choice between the expected and the unexpected

4// in which Y/N Bridgerton makes the decision

5// in which the Queen gives her verdict on Y/N Bridgerton and Prince Friedrich’s match

I’ll be in ruins for you

1// in which Prince Friedrich does not care that the Queen rejected his and Y/N’s match

2// in which Y/N cares that the Queen rejected hers and Friedrich’s match

3// in which Friedrich’s mother takes matters into her own hands

4// in which Frederica talks to the Queen about Friedrich and Y/N

5// in which Y/N and Friedrich reunite under an umbrella

6// in which Y/N and Friedrich get the ending they deserve

REQUESTS

headcanons:

pregnancy and post-pregnancy

their life in london (ft. dad club)

how i met your father

one shots

wedding night : in which we get the actual ending we want (18+ yall)

#prince friedrich #prince friedrich x reader #prince friedrich imagines #prince friedrich fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #simon basset #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton

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iwritefandomimagines · 2 years ago

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i have a wholesome, romantic, fluffy prince friedrich imagine scheduled to post at 3pm gmt today !!! i hope you all love it, because i loved writing it!

#prince friedrich #prince friedrich x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine

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undiscoverable-words · 7 months ago

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Late Night Talking

II. Diamond

The Diamond of The Season.

Phoebe was sure there was a mistake. She cautiously made her way towards Her Majesty, breath shaking and palms still clammy. She was so worried she might trip that she only watched the floor as she walked. Her mother held onto her arm, looking straight ahead, smiling graciously at the Queen. Once she reached the end, Phoebe allowed herself to look up at the Queen, letting out a low breath, her throat feeling tight.

The Queen looked on, observing Phoebe in all that she had to offer. There was immediate recognition on Her Majesty’s face as she stared down at the young girl who had requested to marry her nephew the Prince not four months prior. The Queen arched her brow as she watched Miss Pembroke shake like a leaf.

“My Diamond,” Queen Charlotte announced, smirking as the entire room filled with hushed gasps and Phoebe jolted, staring up at the Queen in a panic.

Her Majesty was always one for a bit of drama.

“I told you you would do well, my dear.” Amelia complimented her daughter as they retreated to a recess of the room.

“I don’t understand,” Phoebe admitted, breathing heavily, wishing she was not currently squeezed by her corset. “I thought– She…” Phoebe swallowed the marble that sat in her throat.

How could Her Majesty sneer at Phoebe one moment and then grant her the highest honor of the season the next moment. If Phoebe truly was the Diamond, surely she was good enough for Prince Friedrich. Phoebe’s heart lurched and ached at the thought of the prince. She missed him and his sweet smile dearly.

Once back at their Mayfair house, Amelia was quick to announce to Cecil that their daughter was, in fact, not ruined after all. He showed minimal reaction, other than the surprise Phoebe found in his eyes.

“Perhaps Her Majesty realized that anyone who caught her nephew’s eye was not to be hastily disregarded.” He offered, clearing his throat. He then looked directly at his daughter, and said with the most stern of tones and expressions, “I still have final say of the man you are to marry, do not forget.”

Dearest Readers,

This author would be the first to admit that Miss Pembroke was not a suspected first choice for the title of Diamond for the season, though is Her Majesty the Queen anything if not surprising? Perhaps the new birth signified in Spring applies to Miss Pembroke, where she was previously left for dead in the cold of winter, she now blossoms anew to shine as bright as a Diamond for her debut.

However, gentle readers, do not take this as a declaration of agreement with Her Majesty. I suspect some deeper reasoning behind the choice to name Miss Pembroke, the sole daughter of Lord Cecil Pembroke, as the season’s Diamond. As I stated in previous seasons, the declaration of a Diamond does not exempt said Debutante from any fall from grace. Perhaps Her Majesty simply wished to hoist Miss Pembroke higher just to watch her fall farther, and more consequently, shatter. While coal under pressure may turn into a diamond, said diamond under pressure may crack.

Whether or not this Diamond should fracture, you know this author waits with bated breath. What an exquisitely invigorating start to the season. Are you on the edges of your seats, Ton? I know I am.

Lady Whistledown

Phoebe read the newest pamphlet the following morning with her breakfast tea, and felt her eyes well with tears. It all made perfect sense. The Queen was only setting Phoebe up for failure, sure to flounder under the pressure of being a Diamond. The shame and anger Phoebe felt bubble up inside her made her long for the distant memories of France. She pushed them away quickly, as any thought of France only reminded her of Prince Friedrich.

“Dear, we must be ready for visiting hours! I have no doubt you’ll have a queue of suitors this morning.” Her mother said, startling Phoebe from her macabre thoughts.

Feeling defeated, Phoebe nodded in agreement, resigned to whatever might come her way this season. Her mother beamed, leading her upstairs to her lady’s maid to help her change into her day dress. While not having much of an opinion on how the day should go, Phoebe was in charge of choosing her attire, and opted for one of her less exciting dresses, pale sage with sheer tulip sleeves and light beading. She decided she would save her new favorites from France for when she found a suitor she specifically wanted to impress.

Cecil called his daughter into his office, intercepting her on her way to the drawing room. The low lighting within the office made Phoebe uneasy as she was used to a room with more windows allowing for more natural light. Her father sat at his desk, slightly hunched over an array of papers when she came to the door and knocked gently.

“Daughter.” He greeted, gesturing for her to enter.

She obliged, walking carefully as if the floor would shatter at her weight. Cecil cleared his throat and looked up from his papers to examine his daughter.

“You wanted to see me?” She prompted, feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“Your mother tells me you are to receive visitors this morning, and I urge you to be the absolute closest you can to perfection. The early stages of your debut are crucial, and if you wish to avoid our agreed upon arrangement for you to seek out a courtship with Colin Bridgerton, I suggest you try your hardest to impress the callers you may have. I will be in after visiting hours are over and I have received a list of your callers to discuss your next move at tomorrow’s ball. Do not promise any dances unless the caller in question ranks higher than a Baron, though I doubt it.”

Phoebe stood, shrinking at his implications that she was still a lousy prospect for suitors.

“Why did you want me to pursue Colin– Mr Bridgerton, if you want me to accept nothing less than a Baron? He is a third son, and has no title.”

“That was before you were named a Diamond.” Cecil explained through gritted teeth, practically spitting at the term Diamond. “Go. We can discuss further after you meet with your prospects, as I said.” He adds, promptly dismissing her from his office.

Phoebe felt nothing but shame on her way down the stairs to the drawing room. Her father had revoked her of any confidence she might have had, and that was very little already. She arrived at the drawing room just before the clock signaled the top of the hour. Tea and biscuits were set up, readily available. The seating was made ample for the possibility of a hoard of suitors, though Phoebe thought that rather ambitious. Her mother sat by the window, smiling as bright as the morning sun, eager to watch her daughter begin the courting process.

All but a quarter of an hour passed before the first visitor was announced to Phoebe and her mother.

“Mr. Bridgerton for Miss Pembroke.”

Amelia seemed unphased by the coincidental arrival of the man her and her husband had previously selected for Phoebe to encourage. Phoebe, however, was extremely surprised and slightly suspicious of his presence, wondering if her mother and Dowager Bridgerton had corresponded and set up the meeting.

Colin entered the drawing room with a rather immodest bouquet of chrysanthemums wrapped in a thick ribbon of the signature Bridgerton blue. Phoebe’s demeanor changed to one of warmth at the gesture and she smiled broadly at him as he came farther into the room to present the flowers.

“For you, Miss Pembroke.” He stated, offering Phoebe the bouquet.

“Thank you, Co– Mr. Bridgerton.” Phoebe smiled, admiring the flowers.

She gestured for Colin to sit and he obliged, cautiously glancing at her mama to be sure he wasn’t being untoward. With no objections, Colin adjusted his posture to remain comfortable, and cleared his throat.

“If I may, Miss Pembroke, you looked rather lovely at your debut. All of us Bridgertons are happy that you’ve returned from your travels and seem to be faring well. And to be named the Diamond, that must be an honor, despite what Whistledown may have said–” Colin went on, causing Phoebe to stifle a giggle.

“It is good to see you again, as well, Mr. Bridgerton. How was your tour of Europe if I may ask?”

Colin smiled brightly and began to regale her of his time abroad, getting lost in the descriptions of the many places he explored. Phoebe admired how he looked so enchanted at even the memory of his travels, and she was happy that his trip was more fortunate than her own.

Having grown up next door to the Bridgertons, Phoebe was well acquainted with the bunch, specifically attached to Colin, Daphne, and Eloise. She felt at ease amongst a familiar face, and enjoyed his conversation for the better part of the hour, completely unaware of her lack of other suitors.

She felt guilty after the next thought passed through her mind. Colin Bridgerton was far more handsome than she could recall from two seasons before. It made her heart drop at the realization that she had thought something about the man one of her best friends was completely enamored with, but she could not help the way her mind drifted as she watched him speak so spiritedly. She admired the sparkle in his eyes as he told her tales of Greece, and she took note of the dimples near his mouth when he smiled. Phoebe lost herself in admiring the details of her dear friend’s face.

“Pardon me, I seem to have prattled on far too long.” Colin interjects his own line of thought. He clears his throat. “Mother sent me to extend an invitation for tea tomorrow afternoon before the first ball of the season.” He said, meeting her eyes.

She noticed his were a mixture of brown, green, and grey depending on the light, and had to avert her gaze before she stared.

“Daph– excuse me, the Duchess of Hastings will be there. She is most excited to see you again.”

Phoebe smiled as he corrected himself in favor of formality during proper morning calling hours, rather than allow their acquaintance with one another afford them familiarity.

“I would love to come to tea, please send your mother my thanks, and let her know I will absolutely be there tomorrow. It was great seeing you again after all this time, Colin– I mean, Mr. Bridgerton.” Phoebe corrected, trying to maintain the creeping blush up her neck.

The pair was not yet ready to forego their previous friendliness as children for the more proper encounters they would now be a part of as young adults of the Ton.

Colin thanked Lady Pembroke for her hospitality and took his leave. Phoebe and her mother were now alone in the drawing room. Amelia looked at her daughter and smirked.

“Was that planned, Mama?” Phoebe asked, turning to face her mother by the window. The Chrysanthemums sat, soaking in the sun, and complemented the design of the room.

“Not one bit, my dear. But you two seemed to get along better than I remember. Perhaps there is something to be said–”

“He is just an old friend, Mama. Colin Bridgerton is not a serious suitor, he called as a favor to his mother and sisters.” Phoebe interrupted.

She did not want her mother to imply that there was or ever would be anything between her and Colin Bridgerton. She could not bear the thought of how that would hurt Penelope, whether Colin returned her affections for him or not.

At dinner, her father made it a point to voice more snide remarks towards his daughter.

“It was rather quiet this morning, was it not?” He raised an eyebrow and stared her down, silently asking her to challenge him, or to admit defeat. Phoebe could not be sure which.

“Mr. Bridgerton called on her, darling, isn’t that something?” Amelia said, still convinced this was a sign of fate for the two within the marriage mart.

“I am to visit with the Bridgertons tomorrow for tea.” Phoebe elaborated, hoping to halt any schemes her parents may try thinking they have secured her a match.

Cecil grumbled as he cut the slice of roast on his plate.

“Having only Mr. Bridgerton call does make things uncomplicated.” He said, before the dinner returned to silence.

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #fanfic #ao3 #polin #late night talking #bridgerton fanfiction #colin bridgerton fanfic #colin bridgerton #colin x reader #colin x penelope #benedict x reader #prince friedrich #queen charlotte #bridgerton x reader

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