#violet bridgerton x reader

[allthornsnopetals]

Being Jealous

:Includes:

E.Bridgerton

D.Bridgerton

V.Bridgerton

:E.Bridgerton:

She simply cannot help it, especially during the debutante season.

She understands that ladies of the Ton are expected to search for Suitors and marry, after all, it is the marriage mart. But it doesn't stop the gnawing at her gut or the heated glares, that she is rather terrible at hiding.

Eloise knows, that you love her, and would 100% dodge every man in and out of the Ton for her, simply because your heart has already devoted itself to her, but again it does not dampen the rage, and her mood.

She would let the feeling simmer, simply because in society she can't do anything.

She does not mean to let it grow, simply wanting to avoid confrontation, and trying to remind herself that what you are doing is simply a ruse, and to avoid suspicion of your relationship, but that all goes to hell at some point.

It builds up over time and eventually blows up, during a ball or gather of some sorts when she finds you dancing or chatting with another eligible Suitor, who is rather obvious with his intentions.

She storms out of the room, of course with you noticing and excusing yourself, searching for her in a hidden hallway, in order to make sure that she is okay.

"El, are you okay? Is something the matter?" Said Y/n, finding her love weeping angry tears.

"Yes, everything is just fine. It's just the dust, it's burning my eyes."

Y/n chuckles, finding her poor attempt to lie, rather amusing. She drew closer to her, wiping her tears away with the pads of her thumbs, and handed her a handkerchief, tucked away in her purse. "I love you Eloise Bridgerton, but you are a terrible liar." She held her close, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Eloise pulls away, cleaning herself up. "Well, tell that to Lord kiss-my-ass. Tell him that your heart is already full, occupied by another." Her tone was rather blunt, angry and even sad.

But Y/n simply grinned, cupping her cheek, and pecking her cheek. "If you are jealous, my love, we can leave. I can inform my mama that I am feeling unwell. And perhaps I could show you my love in a more private setting."

It takes a lot of kisses, yearning touches, and perhaps a week in the country together to reassure her.

Next time, do better at lowering your number of dances and Lords you interact with, just in case.

:D.Bridgerton:

It isn't jealous but doubt with her.

Daphne is a lot more challenging to convince, in my perspective. She begins to question your love, thinking that you would slip away from her, and marry a Lord, duke or even a prince.

Her desire for love is rather a large part of herself, so when she begins to think that you do not love her, it gets a bit sticky and even messy between you and her.

She isn't angry, like Eloise but sad, feeling as if her heart is shattering, thinking that you have changed your mind about devoting your heart to her.

She might withdraw herself, becoming distant and even avoiding you at times.

But her mama is always watching, and she notices that something is wrong.

Violet noticed her daughter longingly staring at Y/n, clearly missing her, and wanting to be near her dear friend. She does not know what is truly between them but she can tell when someone yearns to be in the presence of someone extremely dear to them.

"You have not spoken to Miss Y/n in sometime. Has something caused a breaking between you and her?" Said Violet, sitting beside her daughter, watching Y/n frolic and interact with a possible Suitor.

Daphne shook her head, but her pout made Violet think otherwise. "Sometimes friends fight, misunderstand, and even begin to feel unwanted by the person they cherish most." Violet held her hand, drawing her attention.

"Whatever it may be that caused such a drift, perhaps talking might just fix it. It might just fix the spoken feelings as well." She stood, withdrawing herself, and allowing Daphne to think.

But that is all it took. She did not want to feel this way anymore. She wanted to know if her love's heart still yearned for her, perhaps even shattered without her. She needed to speak to Y/n, and she was going to do that, now. Pulling her away without another word, Daphne guides Y/n and herself somewhere more private, away from nosy ears and eyes.

Once secure, she turns, going in for the kill. "Do you love me?" She said straight forwardly. "Do you even want me? Or even need me, like I need you?" Daphne stared right at Y/n, never tearing her gaze away from her or spilling for air.

"Am I your air as you are mine? Can you sleep without me polluting your dreams, because I cannot. You are my air, but am I yours?" Her chest batted, heaving to her uneven breaths.

"Well, tell me. Do you love me?"

The shit eating grin, curving Y/n's lips confused Daphne. "This is why you avoid me? You feel as if I do not love you? Does this have anything relating to the men of the Ton calling for me, dancing, and even socializing with me?" Y/n steps closer to her, her smile so teasing it made Daphne's heart clench so giddily, and stomach twist. She was beginning to feel, rather foolish.

"My darling, are you jealous of the men of the Ton?" Y/n caressed her cheek, causing her to draw closer.

"Perhaps a little." She confessed, making her love chuckle.

"Come here, you bimbo." Y/n drew her into her arms, swaying them both, soothing her back. "Let us stroll, I do wish for a break from the Lords and their blistering egos." Daphne chuckled, taking her darlings arm.

It took a lot of alone time together, kisses, and even gifts.

It also meant a visit to the country side for a long while, with her family of course, but mainly you and her, mending the misunderstanding.

In this she learns to trust her love, to build and understand the purpose of talking, instead of avoiding and withdrawing.

A lot of reassuring glances, touches that cannot be read more than something friendly, seeking each other at balls, and spending time together when you are both back in society.

She just wants to be 100% sure in her love, so it does take a lot of time, even after talking about it and mending a few things, to truly reassure her.

:V.Bridgerton:

You and Violet go way back, as in before the marriage mart, and the search for husbands.

Your heart will always be devoted to her, and her alone, but society is cruel, so when it is time for you to marry it makes things a lot more complicated for both you and Violet. Marrying into high dynasties, but yearning for the other.

Violet has buried her jealous glares, heated anger, and built up sadness for more than ten years.

You were both respected ladies of the Ton with children and many eyes on you. But that never stopped the hidden glances, calling hours, and nights spent with each other.

She just wished she could have you all the time and have you like your husband has you, which is why in my perspective she struggles with jealousy.

But she would never voice it of course, because this is how it is supposed to be: A lavender marriage, affairs behind their husbands backs, silent yearning, and performing their duties as ladies of their houses.

The only thing that reassures her of your love is the fact that you name one of your children after her, but this comes about when she is feeling the most insecure, and heartbroken.

"You are expecting!" Agatha squeals, pulling Y/n into a bone crushing embrace, rendering her breathless.

"This is exciting news, indeed. Isn't that right, Violet?" Said Agatha searching for the other woman. Violet blinks, her eyes becoming glassy with her throat running dry. She nods, breaking her trance. "Exciting, indeed." She chokes, sipping her tea, fighting back tears.

She was losing Y/n, sealing both their fates with her pregnancy, something she thought would be a lot easier to digest. She smiles weakly before excusing herself for the chamber pot.

Y/n knew better. She knew that the news would be hard for Violet to hear and even understand. So after the ladies visit, during the night Y/n waited for Violet at their usual spot in the gardens.

Violet was late of course, making Y/n think that she would not show up, but she did and the look on her face said it all. Pulling her into her arms, Y/n reassured her of their love, trying to convince her that it would not change how her heart beats for her.

"Why did you not tell me earlier? Why not inform me alone?" Violet questioned, sitting with her, staring out at the stars.

"I wanted to keep it a secret, until I was sure. And I also want you and Agatha to hear together, she is also my friend, Vi. It is news to be shared with my most favored girls." Y/n explained, holding her hand and resting her head on her love's shoulder.

"Lord Bridger, marries you, sleeps with you, and finally impregnates you. How do you think I am to feel about the news?" Her tone was torn, sounding like shattered glass.

Using her fingers to guide her attention back to herself, Y/n pecks a quick but loving kiss to her lips. "I did not expect you to be happy, but I do hope that you be with me during this journey. Because if there is anyone I want most by my side during my pregnancy, it's you, my love."

She still envied your husband, even after his death when it left you a shattered widow with four children.

You mourned him, as she did Edmund, making her think that you did not just care for him, but loved him.

You named your only daughter after her, as a declaration of your love, which served as a reassurance.

For Violet it is a long process of reassurance, healing her insecurities, and finally talking through it, after so long of harboring her feelings.

Violet is just very sensitive and perhaps insecure, after all, loving some of the fairer sex is challenging in your society.

[tulipatheticee]

i've been waiting for you

violet bridgerton x youngest! daughter

bridgerton siblings x younger! sibling

synopsis; From the moment Edmund Bridgerton passed, leaving his wife widowed with eight children and one on the way, Violet found herself adrift until the arrival of Isadora, her youngest daughter. Isadora, quiet and calm, becomes Violet's constant companion in bustling Mayfair, offering solace and steadfast support at her mother's side.

word count; 1.3k

master list

a/n; i have arisen yet again, this is my first bridgerton fic so hello to the brigderton tag! i have archived all my old stuff because they are old and tbh the fandoms have died SO LET ME INTRODUCE MYSELF

my name is tulippa and im from sicily, im pretty confident in my english now but let me know if you see any errors! i mainly write fluffy family stuff like this, i love it idk. if you like this and want to see more like it let me know and ill provide for you! but its not like i wont write x reader romance cmon of course i will, but im best at parentxchild and siblings (PLATONIC ALWAYS DONT BE WEIRD) anyways i could go on and on but i wont, enjoy!!!

kinda proof read, kinda not, you've been warned

I'll carry you all the way

Violet Bridgerton had weathered many storms in her life, but none so devastating as the loss of her beloved husband, Edmund. His passing left her shattered, a widow with eight children to care for and another on the way. The pregnancy was fraught with complications, exacerbated by Violet's grief and the toll it took on her health.

Days turned into months as Violet withdrew into herself, mourning Edmund's absence even as life continued around her. Her family rallied, but Violet's sorrow was a heavy veil that separated her from them. It was during those long, solitary hours that she felt the weight of loneliness and the fear of losing both husband and child.

And you'll choose the day

The labour came unexpectedly, fierce and unforgiving. Violet's strength waned, her heart weary from loss and longing. The doctors and midwives worked tirelessly, their faces etched with concern. Hours passed like eternity until finally, a cry pierced the air—a fragile, yet determined cry that signalled new life.

Isadora was born amidst tears and relief, a tiny bundle of hope wrapped in Violet's trembling arms. The room, once fraught with fear, now glowed with a soft, golden light as mother and daughter gazed at each other for the first time. In that moment, everything seemed to still, and Violet knew she had been granted a miracle.

When you're prepared to greet me

She named her daughter Isadora, after the delicate Dahlia flower that Edmund had loved tending in their garden—a reminder of the beauty that bloomed even in the darkest of times.

As Isadora grew, she became Violet's constant companion, a beacon of joy and innocence in the Bridgerton household. Her older siblings doted on her, especially Anthony, Benedict, and Colin, who saw in her a reflection of their lost father's spirit. Isadora's laughter filled the halls of Bridgerton House and her curious mind sought solace in the quiet moments spent with her mother.

One afternoon, in the hushed serenity of the drawing room, Isadora sat at the pianoforte while Violet embroidered nearby. The soft melodies Isadora coaxed from the keys wove through the air, a testament to her growing talent and Violet's nurturing guidance.

"Does this sound right, Mama?" Isadora asked, her voice a melody in itself.

Violet looked up from her embroidery, a fond smile gracing her lips. "It sounds perfect, darling. You have a gift."

Isadora beamed with pride, her small hands continuing their dance over the keys. Despite her tender age, she played with a grace that belied her years, a testament to the bond she shared with her mother and the legacy of love that surrounded her.

I'll be a good mum, I swear

Anthony, Benedict, and Colin entered the room together, their voices low with shared memories and unspoken affection for their youngest sister. Anthony, ever the protective eldest brother, approached Isadora and knelt beside her.

"How are you today, Isa?" he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

"I am well, Anthony," Isadora replied, her gaze never leaving the keys. "Mama teaches me a new piece every day."

"Is that so?" Benedict chimed in, leaning over to peer at the sheet music. "You are quite talented, little one."

"Indeed," Colin added with a smile. "Father would have been proud."

Violet's heart swelled with bittersweet emotion at the mention of Edmund. She had feared she might forget the sound of his voice or the warmth of his touch, but in Isadora, she found echoes of him that kept his memory alive.

You'll see how much I care

"Mama, are you well?" Isadora asked suddenly, sensing the shift in her mother's mood.

Violet blinked back tears, her hand reaching out to clasp Isadora's. "I am well, my love. I am with you, and that is enough."

Isadora nodded solemnly, her understanding far beyond her years. Together, they continued their afternoon ritual, finding solace in music and shared moments that bridged the gap between past sorrows and future joys.

When you meet me

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

In the sunlit gardens of Bridgerton House, where the scent of roses mingled with the laughter of children, Isadora found herself in the company of her older sister, Hyacinth, and brother, Gregory. Despite their lively spirits, they adapted to Isadora's quieter demeanour, creating a harmony that transcended their differences.

You thrill me, you delight me

"Isa, look what I found!" Hyacinth exclaimed, holding a caterpillar in her small hands with excitement.

Isadora approached cautiously, her eyes widening with curiosity. "Oh, wow! What is it?"

Gregory, always eager to share his knowledge, chimed in, "It's a caterpillar, Isa! Hyacinth and I were just talking about how it turns into a butterfly."

Hyacinth nodded eagerly. "Yes, Isa! It's like magic! One day, it will have beautiful wings and fly everywhere!"

Isadora's face lit up with wonder. "That's amazing! Can I hold it?"

Hyacinth carefully passed the caterpillar to Isadora, who watched it crawl across her palm with fascination. Gregory leaned in, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Let's play tag, Isa! You're it!"

You please me, you excite me

Isadora giggled as Gregory darted away, Hyacinth joining in the chase. "Catch us if you can, Isa!"

Isadora laughed, her heart light as she chased after her siblings through the garden paths, their laughter mingling with the rustle of leaves and the gentle hum of bees. Despite their differences in temperament, they found joy in each other's company, weaving memories that would last a lifetime.

You're all that

I've been yearning for

— —- —- —- —-

In the quiet of evening, as the Bridgerton family gathered for supper, Isadora remained close to Violet's side. Gregory and Hyacinth, full of youthful exuberance, regaled their siblings with tales of mischief and adventure, and how Isadora won tag earlier in the afternoon. The three eldest Brigderton men shared the lovely pianoforte they witnessed Isadora performing in the morning and spoke of how she is progressing very, while Eloise, Francesca, and Daphne shared knowing glances over the table.

I love you, I adore you

"Isa, do you have to be better than us at everything?" Eloise teased playfully, nudging Isadora with her elbow.

Isadora looked up, a hint of confusing in her eyes, she went to speak before Violet interjected “ "Eloise is just being foolish, darling, she means well”

Isadora quickly understood and replied "I only wish to be like everyone else Eloise, you are so clever, and Francesca is so graceful, and Daphne—"

"—is the epitome of charm," Francesca finished with a smile, her gaze softening as she looked at her youngest sister.

I lay my life before you

Daphne reached across the table to tousle Isadora's hair gently. "You are quite the storyteller yourself, Isa. Perhaps one day you'll write tales that surpass even Eloise's wild adventures."

Isadora's face lit up with delight at the praise from her sisters. "Do you really think so, Daphne?"

"Absolutely," Daphne assured her. "You have a way with words and a heart as big as all of Mayfair."

I only want you more and more

Violet watched the exchange with a tender smile, her heart swelling with pride at the bond between her daughters. Despite the challenges they had faced as a family, moments like these reminded her of the joy that filled their lives.

And finally it seems

My lonely days are through

Later that night, as Isadora drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the love of her siblings, Violet tucked her in with a sense of peace. The Bridgertons, each unique in their strengths and passions, formed a tapestry of love and support that would guide Isadora through the years ahead.

I've been waiting for you

"You are so loved, Isadora," Violet whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her daughter's forehead. "Never doubt that."

Isadora stirred, a contented smile playing on her lips. 

I've been waiting…

And as Violet watched over her sleeping daughter, she knew that the bonds of siblinghood, and the enduring love of family would carry Isadora through any storm that life might bring.

…For you

pt2

a/n pt2; thats it guys :( i actually had so much fun writing this and if you want anymore of violet and isa or any of the siblings with isa let me know because i'd love for this to become a little oneshot series typa thing! your feedback is greatly appreciated <3

all my love!

~tulippa

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐀𝐈𝐑, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 [𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS – Violet Bridgerton x fem!Gardener!Reader

SUMMARY — Violet gets her garden tended to, both literally and figuratively.

WORD COUNT — 7.1K

WARNINGS — 18+ NSFW MDNI, just lots of longing and touch straved themes

NOTE — This fic I think may be one of my favourite things I've ever written. I don't want to say too much about it, but I hope it makes all you feel the same things it made me feel as I was writing it. A special thank you to @mystic-writings for beta'ing and cheering me on and @loveindiravarma for providing the video for the middle GIF

Violet never liked when she had to let go of staff, but sometimes it just had to be done. Anthony was tremendously busy (with his impending wedding to the elder Miss Sharma) and so in the end, the responsibility fell on Violet.

She had to say although the whole ordeal was rather unpleasant, she somehow seemed to be graced with an easy decision when it came to filling the position of gardener. 

Violet would admit she was a little surprised by how it all played out. First, she wasn’t expecting a woman to come and speak with her about the job, but every single quality she was looking for in an applicant was met. She didn’t waste her time in making a decision and decided to hire on the spot.

She found herself more willing to go out into the garden, to explore while work was being done, unafraid to get in the way or be curious because she never felt like she was imposing. She did know it was technically her family’s home, but there was something about watching someone while they worked that just seemed rather intrusive and she usually avoided it. 

“Lady Bridgerton,” your voice pulled her out of her thoughts and she looked up at you with a smile. “I just started pruning and was going to come and ask you a question about how you wanted the bushes. You seem to have saved me some leg work.”

“I’m much obliged, miss. How can I be of assistance?” she asked, coming closer to you and the bush of flowers you were working on. 

“I was thinking perhaps to pick a few peonies to put inside the house in vases and then trim down the size a bit so it isn’t overtaking the garden quite so much, what are your thoughts?” 

Violet pressed her lips together and gazed at the bush for a moment. The peonies did seem to be in such a bloom, reaching out on every side almost running completely wild. She supposed that was part of the reason she got a new gardener in the first place. 

“Trim it,” she nodded. “They do seem like they need to be…controlled.” 

You chuckled a little and clipped one of the flowers, handing it to her. 

“If I may, my Lady, I don’t think controlled is quite the right word,” you said. “Moreso…guided, manicured, taken care of.” 

Violet smiled at what you said, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips, “Yes, quite right,” she nodded. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, my Lady. Your company is always welcome.” 

She pressed her lips together and wished you a good day before continuing to walk through the gardens. 

As the day passed, Violet found herself carrying the peony you had given her to everything she did around the house, playing with the stem, feeling the petals between her fingers until in the evening she sat in her chambers, alone and dressed for bed the flower sitting on her vanity staring back at her. 

After staring at it for what seemed like hours she finally picked it up and brought it to her nose, inhaling its scent and perfume, closing her eyes and just letting her mind wander along with the intoxicating scent, feeling a warmth grow in her core, causing her breath to hitch and for her to abruptly open her eyes. 

She took in a couple of shakier breaths, placing the flower back down on the vanity and standing up, turning away from it, unable to justify her own thoughts in her head. 

She moved to the pitcher of water that sat next to a bowl and poured some of it inside, gently splashing her face with the water, before resting her hands on the table and leaning over the bowl, letting small droplets drip from her nose and chin back into the bowl. 

A pressure began to build up in her chest and all of a sudden she was taking deeper, more laboured breaths until she grabbed the towel and wiped her face clean with a certain roughness and frustration before letting her arms drop to her side while her back leaned against the table. 

She looked over again at the peony and licked her lips, her hand moving to her chest, rubbing back and forth to try and rid herself of some of this ache, or rather distract from it. 

It wasn’t much use, so instead she closed her eyes and took in a deep, shaky breath, discarding the towel on the table and moving towards her bed, slipping underneath the covers and begging for sleep to wash over her. 

—

“Mama, when are we going to join Anthony and Kate at Aubrey Hall?” Hyacinth asked one morning over breakfast.

“Soon, dearest,” she assured her youngest daughter. “Lady Danbury will be joining us there, I just have a few more things I have to arrange for before we can leave.” 

“I do not want to go to the country,” Gregory pouted. “We’ve been there three times already this year.” 

“The country air will do us all some good,” Violet told her children. “We will go spend time with your brother and his wife as a family and we will all enjoy it. Understood?” she gave Gregory one of her looks that wasn’t so much threatening as it was lovingly stern. 

“Yes mama,” Gregory nodded and looked back at his food with a sigh making his other siblings chuckle. 

Violet finished up her breakfast and excused herself from the table, going to take care of things with the staff who would be left at the house in their absence and going out for an appointment with the modiste, unable to do her own alterations at the same time as her daughters. 

When she returned she had one thing on her list to complete before finalizing all of the packing to be ready to leave tomorrow. 

She made her way to the garden and saw you diligently working away at pulling some weeds from the soil around the rose bushes and while she was busy admiring your work, you caught her gaze and welcomed her with a smile on your face. 

“Lady Bridgerton,” you stood up and bowed your head, removing your working gloves and tossing them to the side. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes actually there is,” she nodded. “As you know the family and I are going to join Anthony at Aubrey Hall tomorrow and I was wondering if you might join us to help tend to the gardens there.” 

You looked a little surprised at her proposition, but nodded your head. 

“I would love to, my Lady, but may I ask a question?”

“Of course,” she pressed you to go on. 

“I thought there was a gardener who took care of Aubrey Hall, it was my understanding that my responsibilities would not extend past Bridgerton House.” 

“Under normal circumstances they wouldn’t,” Violet agreed with your sentiment. “It is just that our other gardener has, like my son, recently gotten married and Anthony was in a generous mood and gave him time to spend with his new wife so the gardens there have not been tended to in some time. I feel as though the plants here could surely survive a while longer in your absence, especially since you have done so much work with them already.” 

“I see,” you smiled. “In that case I would be more than happy to join you at Aubrey Hall, my Lady.” 

“Splendid,” she let out a small relieved breath. “I have arranged for you to come in a carriage with my maid Mrs.Wilson. There are quarters for a gardener on the far end of the property that you will be most welcome to stay in during your time in the country. It hasn’t been used for quite some time as Mr. Henry lives in the village and walks to Aubrey Hall every day.” 

“Wonderful, I shall finish with these weeds then begin packing,” you motioned to the soil below you and Violet nodded her head with a smile before wishing you a good rest of your day and heading back inside to arrange some packing of her own (and make sure Gregory and Hyacinth in particular were doing the same…and come to think of it Eloise, Benedict, and Colin as well). 

She was content that evening to be stressing over her impending travels instead of allowing herself to drift into madness like she felt she had been doing so often these past few days. As she lay in bed, the blanket pulled up to her chin as she curled underneath the covers, she really did hope that the country air might provide her even with a moment's respite. 

—

“I never knew you to be interested in gardening, mama.”

Violet turned her head upwards at Eloise’s voice as she had caught sight of her staring out of the window at you while you took out some potted plants and re-planted them into the soil. 

“Oh, yes,” Violet nodded her head. “Gardening, it’s very…” her voice trailed off and she didn’t even attempt to finish her sentence, her eyes still closely watching you. 

Eloise gave her mother a look of confusion, trying to gather what was going on, but clearly not understanding the situation at all. 

“It’s very what?” she asked, pulling her mother out of her thoughts once more. 

“It’s an art,” Violet ended up saying, turning her head to face Eloise, a polite, albeit slightly strained, smile on her face. “To tend to a garden takes knowledge, care, and an eye for a certain…” 

“Je ne sais quoi?” Eloise offered and Violet nodded her head. 

“Exactly.” 

Eloise watched you with her mother for a moment before leaving her to her own devices so she could go read for a bit before playing pall mall with her siblings and new sister-in-law. 

Violet thought a little more to herself about what it took to take care of a garden. It was true that it required knowledge and care, but gardens also flourished with love and tenderness, with touch and air and sunlight. 

Just as she thought of the sun, it peeked out from behind the clouds, just for a moment shining in through the window and Violet allowed herself to bask in its warmth. Shutting her eyes and letting each golden ray envelop her and touch her skin and set it aglow. She took in a deep breath and let out a soft sigh, relishing that feeling of something against her body, some warmth. 

“Lady Bridgerton?” 

“Hmm,” Violet bore a soft smile on her face, her eyes still closed for a moment before she turned her head and opened them, seeing her friend standing before her. “Oh, Lady Danbury. You must excuse me I was just-” 

“Basking?” she asked with a raised brow, leaning on her cane. 

Violet chuckled a little sheepishly. 

“Yes,” she nodded. “Would you care to join me?” 

“I think I would,” she said as Violet moved over slightly so that she could join her on the small couch that faced the window. “Miss Eloise has told me that you’ve been observing the gardening that is happening.” 

“Yes,” Violet nodded again, she didn’t have many words to say as her eyes fell on you again, watching your every movement. 

“Or perhaps there is a gardener that has caught your eye?” 

“Yes-Wait Agatha!” Violet turned her head as soon as she’d realized how she’d answered, shocked her friend could even suggest such a thing. 

Lady Danbury’s face was not one of shock or even intrigue, she just let her hands simply rest on the head of her cane and continued to look out of the window. 

Violet was so flustered she could feel her cheeks growing more red by the second as she figured out what she was going to try and say to cover up her answer. 

Before she could think of something, Lady Danbury spoke again. 

“I suppose a gardener has many admirable qualities,” she began. “They are very meticulous, they know how to…tend to things.” 

Violet pressed her lips together, she didn’t dare look over at her, instead just focusing on her hands in her lap.

“You wouldn't tell anyone, would you?” Violet asked quietly. 

“What is there to tell,” Lady Danbury shrugged. “You are simply a Lady who enjoys her garden.” 

Violet smiled a little to herself and looked out of the window ahead into the field, placing a hand on her friend’s which still rested on the head of her cane. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

Lady Danbury nodded her head. 

“There is no harm in looking, Violet.” 

She continued to press her lips together, there may not have been a harm in looking, but what about when that fuelled some sort of desire she did not know how to control. 

Violet removed her hand from Lady Danbury’s and smoothed out her dress, standing up. 

“I should go. I think I can hear Hyacinth and Gregory arguing. Probably about something pointless.” 

Lady Danbury gave Violet a compassionate smile which she returned, but it left her face as soon as she turned away and headed towards the voice of her children. If she couldn’t seem to control her staring when you were around then perhaps she’d just have to make sure she wasn’t around you. 

—

When Violet was in the country and she found herself needing to clear her head she often sat on the bench next to her husband’s grave. She was usually better prepared, bringing flowers and maybe something special to leave there, but she didn’t have the wherewithal today to do anything other than sit.

Her children would all make their rounds eventually, especially the older ones, but often they liked to do it alone, taking the quiet moment as one of reflection, or perhaps they took the silence as an opportunity to talk with their father. 

Violet preferred to reminisce. 

To close her eyes and play through scenes in her head, a memory, a feeling until often she stopped herself before tears could stream down her cheeks. 

Today she felt her eyes flutter shut as the wind blew against her face, her breath was caught in her throat as she swore she could feel her late husband’s arms wrap around her. Ten years and she could still remember how his hands would mould to her sides, how his chin would rest against her shoulder from behind, the feeling of his breath like a gentle warm breeze against her cheek. 

She heard the crunch of twigs off to the side and she opened her eyes to see what had made the sound.

She saw you with your back turned to her and she frowned out of confusion for a moment before calling your name, encouraging you to turn around and face her. 

“I apologize, my Lady. I didn’t realize you were here,” you said quietly. “I just noticed there weren’t any flowers so I thought I might bring some by. The staff has told me you normally bring hyacinths.” 

Violet felt her lips pull into a sad soft smile as she nodded her head. 

“Yes…I was just a little preoccupied today,” she admitted. 

You tested the waters and came a little closer, and then a little closer until you could rest the flowers down by the large headstone. 

Violet watched as your hands moved to adjust a few things, not moving from your position until the flowers were perfect. 

When you stood up, you didn’t take the time to admire your work like you normally did and moved away to give Violet her privacy, and despite all that she had told herself a few days ago, she found herself speaking before her mind could catch up. 

“You could stay for a moment, if you’d like.” 

You paused and looked over at the Viscountess, she didn’t necessarily meet your gaze, her eyes still on the flowers you had brought. 

“I could stay if you’d like me to,” you said softly, not wanting to overstep her politeness. 

She nodded her head, her eyes still on the flowers and placed a hand on the empty spot next to her on the bench. 

You pursed your lips and clasped your hands behind your back as you walked towards the bench, lowering yourself down next to her and moving your hands to your lap. 

You didn’t say anything, simply watching Violet and waiting for her to make the move, to start a conversation if that’s what she wished, but perhaps she just wanted someone to sit in silence with her to offer a hand of comfort and before you realized what you were doing your hand had inched over towards hers that was still resting on the bench next to you. 

When Violet felt the warm touch of your hand against hers she had to keep her head turned for a moment, not expecting you to do such a thing. 

Confused by her reaction, you quickly retracted your hand in case you had overstepped, but as soon as the contact was lost, Violet turned her head back to you. 

“Is everything alright, my Lady?” you asked. 

She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak and instead looking straight ahead out into the field. She closed her eyes only for a moment, simply feeling the warmth radiate off your skin only for it to be blown away by the cool breeze. 

When she opened her eyes she noticed your hand in front of her, holding a handkerchief. She moved her own hand to her cheeks feeling the wet streaks against her skin. 

She took the handkerchief from you, with one hand, but then reached out with the other before you could pull away. You carefully brought your other hand and clasped hers between them. She could feel every callous along your palm, a rough exterior for such a gentle and caring touch. 

She sniffled and moved her free hand over her mouth, her fingers curled as if in contemplation. 

You stayed like that until you could hear the thunder rumble in the distance. You removed your hands from around hers, noticing how she almost shivered at the loss of warmth. 

“We should go before we get caught in the rain,” you said quietly. 

Violet nodded her head and watched as you wished her a good rest of her day before leaving and she sat there a while longer, looking down at her hands in her lap, the handkerchief still wet with tears, and she imagined that this wasn’t the last time this cloth, this piece of fabric would be witness to her sorrows.

—

Violet was never one to sneak around, but when the house was filled with her family and their staff on occasion she would find herself waiting for a moment where she could be away and for no one to know where she was. 

It was practically impossible to slip out unnoticed during the day, so she went through her usual evening routine with her maids, but sat at her vanity, waiting until the sun had just set and everyone was fast asleep to open the door of her room and peek down the hallway, stepping into it and making her way to the doors that led outside. 

The air nipped at her skin, making the hair on her arm stand on its end, despite the cover from her robe which she now wrapped tighter around her as she walked down the stairs and through the garden. She didn’t really think about what she was doing or where she was going, perhaps it was just simply away. 

Darkness fell upon the country and she appreciated the privacy it gave, but clearly it could only give so much.

It seemed as though she had walked all the way to the edge of the property where the gardener’s quarters were and there was still a shadow of a figure outside bent over what looked like potted plants. 

She watched curiously as she got closer and possibly hearing the squish of her feet against the wet soil, you looked up and saw her. It was safe to say you were a little confused at the sight before you and quickly dusted your hands off on a towel. 

“Lady Bridgerton is that you?” you called, squinting into the darkness, trying to get a better look. 

“Yes,” she called back. “What on earth are you doing gardening at night?” 

“I suppose I might ask the same of you and your promenade, my Lady,” you said. “These flowers bloom at night, I was just coming to take a look at them.” 

You beckoned her to come closer and take a look at what you were observing. As she came towards you, you noticed similarly to yourself she was dressed in a nightgown, only she had a robe pulled over top of her as well. 

It was interesting to see her in this light, or perhaps this darkness, her hair falling into loose curls on either side of her shoulders. There was no rouge on her cheeks, but the cold air seemed to do the trick regardless, welcoming a rosy colour on her skin. 

She bent down to examine the flowers you spoke of, gently touching the petals and smiling seeing how they reached up towards the moonlight. 

Before either of you could speak you were interrupted by the rumble of thunder and a trickle of rain which quickly turned into a downpour. 

You opened the door to the small cabin and ushered Violet inside, slipping in after her, lucky you were close by and did not get caught in the worst of it.

“I’m not sure it will be a good idea for you to go back, my Lady,” you looked outside. “It’s pouring, you’d catch a cold.”

You looked back over at her and she was wiping a few drops of rain from her face, but after seeing how hard the downpour was she came to the same conclusion. 

“I know it’s hardly as glamorous as what you have in Aubrey Hall, but you can take my bed,” you said. “I have a mat I can use to sleep on the floor.” 

“Are you quite sure?” Violet asked. “I know you did not plan on having a guest tonight, I do not mean to intrude.” 

“It’s not an intrusion, my Lady. Simply unconventional company,” you shrugged, pulling the mat out from where it was kept and laying a sheet overtop of it along with a blanket and a pillow. “Your family won’t worry about you out here?” 

“They don’t know I’m here,” she said. “I’ll be fine for one evening.” 

You nodded your head and sat down on the mat, watching as she followed your lead with the bed. 

The fire flickered a soft warm light into the room and you sighed, wrapping your hands around your legs. 

“Goodnight, my Lady.” 

“Goodnight,” she whispered and turned to lay back down on the bed and you allowed yourself to do the same. 

You tried to close your eyes and fall asleep, after a hard day of working outside usually you didn’t have much trouble. You stayed still with your eyes closed for what felt like hours before you really began to give up and open your eyes. 

When you did, you looked over at the bed and saw Violet seemingly in a similar predicament, tossing until she landed on her back, staring up at the ceiling, not noticing your gaze on her. 

It felt wrong to watch her, especially when she must have assumed you were fast asleep, but there was something that forced you to stare, to not turn your eyes away. 

You saw her hand reach out to touch her neck, like she was trying to remember a feeling. One hand rested just below her breast while the other hovered for a moment, hesitating to come down, but when it did, both hands wrapped themselves around her midsection as she turned back onto her side, facing the wall. 

You bit your lip and wondered how many nights she’d spent like this since her husband had passed away.

Alone. 

Aching. 

Lady Violet Bridgerton was a woman who the ton saw as constantly surrounded by others, but in the times you had seen her, you’d seen past the crowds of family and friends that encompassed her. You saw a woman who longed for something she didn’t feel she had the right to ask for. 

You turned onto your back and closed your eyes again, the sound of the rain crashing down on the house drowning out any further thoughts you might have, and as the smell of fresh soil, grass, and newly potted plants filled your nostrils, you closed your eyes and hoped that Violet would find whatever it was she was looking for. 

—

Violet stared up at the intricate design of her four poster bed frame. A kaleidoscope of shapes, diamonds and triangles carved into wood, dizzying in their patterns. 

She felt her hands move from where they rested against her chest, tracing along her skin before moving overtop of fabric, down her chest, towards her stomach where the fabric of her nightgown was already bunched up, having fallen from her knees down to her hips. 

She let her eyes flutter closed as she began to put pressure at the base of her stomach, gathering the courage to let her hands go lower. 

Just as her hand was about to slip past the point of fabric, to touch skin again, she felt someone gently grasp her hand. 

She opened both her eyes and her mouth to let out a gasp of surprise, but a finger came to her lips, quieting her.

“Shh, shh,” it was a gentle hush, her mouth unable to shut as she saw you lean over top of her, the shapes and patterns surrounding you from above sending her into a spiral. “Let me take care of that for you.” 

Violet could feel her bottom lip begin to tremble against your finger as she felt your other hand start its path from her ankle, moving up her shin, past her knee, and onto her thigh. 

She let out a light gasp as your fingers reached closer to her core, her own hand pressing against her stomach in some attempt to steady herself. 

She knew she had to do something while she still had her wits about her, so she lifted her other hand to wrap around the back of your neck, holding the side of your face, bringing you down so your forehead was pressed against hers, your noses touching as your fingers slipped inside her. 

She gasped with each movement, pulling you closer, her eyes closed, her nose scrunched, her mouth unable to shut, her breathing and quiet moans the only sound that filled the room. 

Violet couldn’t gather her senses, teetering towards the edge of something a long groan caught in the back of her throat.

Violet opened her eyes, taking in a gulp of air and quickly pushing herself up in her bed. 

She looked around her room, it was dark and empty. She looked up to her bedframe, the shapes causing her mind to spin as your face flashed before her. 

Her skin was sticky with sweat, the fabric of her nightgown clinging onto her as she covered her face with her hands for a moment, steadying her breathing before running her hands through her hair and pulling her knees to her chest, trying to ignore that pit of need in her stomach. 

She rested one arm across her knees, the elbow of her other arm using it as a rest while she ran her fingers through her hair, tugging at it, hoping the pain might pull her away from her thoughts. 

Moving on to pinch the bridge of her nose, she fell back onto the mattress, staring at the wall, too afraid to look up and be reminded of her dream, too afraid to close her eyes and let her subconscious gain control once more.

So she stayed like that, in bed, staring at the wall until the sun leaked into the room telling her she was finally safe, or so at least she thought. 

—

A few days had passed and Violet had barely left her room. She told her family she was feeling unwell and needed to rest, but in reality, she spent most of her time still dressed in a nightgown, sitting on the chaise lounge, looking out at the clouds that loomed overhead. 

When she opened the window to allow for some fresh air to enter the room, she could smell the rain in the air, the clouds making their way towards Aubrey Hall seemed to match her suspicions and she knew that evening she wouldn’t confine herself to her room any longer. 

Across the property, you had the Sunday off and used the time to enjoy the clear skies while they lasted, finding company in yourself, bouncing between a book and cooking a few things for yourself to eat while you mentally planned how the rest of your week would look like, assigning areas of the property based on priority and need. 

Gardening was hard work, there was no question about it. But the results were always worth it, every single time without fail. Looking at the finished product and being able to see beauty and order in something so wild and free. 

As the evening rolled in, and the grey sky was replaced by the deep navy that visited every night, you made your way back inside, boiling the pot of water for a cup of tea while you heard the rain begin to patter outside, drop by drop until it was continuous and loud against the roof of your cabin. 

You didn’t expect to do much else aside from sit and enjoy your drink, perhaps read a few more chapters of your book when you heard a knock at your door. 

Not knowing who was on the other side, you grabbed your robe and wrapped it around yourself before going to the door and opening it.

Your hand immediately flew to your mouth, “Lady Bridgerton…” your voice trailed off as you took in her appearance, in nothing but a nightgown, completely soaked, mud lining the bottom of it, her hair stringy and stuck to the sides of her face. You quickly opened the door wider and pulled her inside and out of the cold, closing the door behind you. “What happened?”

“Mistimed my evening promenade,” she said quietly. “I-I was closer to here than the hall…” 

You nodded your head and moved her over towards the stool in front of the fire, sitting her down and moving away to rummage through your things to find a towel, bringing it to her and wrapping it around her shoulders. 

She looked up at you, her lashes still dripping with water and you bent down next to her, tucking her hair behind her ears so it didn’t stick to her face, lifting the towel slightly to help wipe away some of the water that was still dripping down her face. 

You didn’t even think twice about the familiarity, unable to bring yourself to just leave her alone like that. And perhaps you didn’t think twice because she didn’t so much as flinch with your touch, if anything she leaned into your hand. 

“My Lady, you risk catching a cold in such weather,” you said softly. 

“I know,” she whispered. “I should be more careful.” 

“Does your family not know you have come outside?” you asked and she nodded her head. 

“I just needed a moment alone.” 

“According to your daughter, moments alone are all you’ve had these past few days,” you said. “Miss Eloise said you were unwell.” 

“I-I was,” Violet nodded. “What I meant is that I needed some fresh air after being in my chambers for so long.” 

You nodded your head and respected her answer, standing up from beside her and bringing her the cup of tea you had made for yourself in hopes that it would speed up the process of warming her up as the towel and fire helped to dry her off. 

When you saw her finally begin to get back to her normal temperature you realized there was no way she could stay in her current clothes, the bottom of her dress now caked with dry mud. 

You stood up again and went to the dresser, looking through a few things before finding what it was you wanted and bringing it to her in exchange for the empty cup. It was a nightgown, left in the cabin perhaps by a previous gardener’s wife, but it looked like it would fit Violet and it could do the trick for the night. 

She took it from your hands and slowly stood up, removing the towel from her shoulders before going into the small washroom to get changed. 

You hung the towel to dry by the fire while you waited and just as she exited the washroom with her dirtied nightgown in hand she saw you reaching for the mat you had slept on last time. 

“Why don’t you stay with me on the bed,” Violet said. “I could not impose on your kindness more than once.” 

You pressed your lips together and looked down at the mat in your hands. 

“I insist. It is big enough for both of us.” 

“Just barely, my Lady,” you looked at her just to make sure that she was absolutely certain. 

“Either we both sleep on the bed or I shall take the mat this time,” she said. “You’ve already done a lot for me tonight, I cannot possibly take your place of rest as well.” 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and let go of the mat, sliding it back into its place between the bookcase and the wall. 

You motioned for her to take her spot on the bed, and she did so after folding her gown and placing it off to the side, sliding underneath the covers and moving to the side next to the wall. When she was settled you came in next to her, turning your back to hers, staring out the window at the rain pouring down on the property. 

The sound brought you back to that previous evening, under similar circumstances. 

You recalled the way she wrapped her arms around herself, how she tossed and turned and it made you think about tonight, how incredibly still she was lying, how she had melted into your touch. 

You felt your mouth begin to open and before you could stop yourself you asked, 

“My Lady, why were you outside tonight?” 

“I-I told you I wanted some fresh air,” she repeated her response from before. 

“What I mean to say…is why were you really outside?”

You could hear Violet swallow thickly. 

She fumbled over an excuse, her mind unable to give her a good enough lie to cover up. 

You turned so that you were on your back, now staring at the ceiling. 

“You must have known it was going to rain tonight,” you said quietly. “You saw the clouds and you still came out…” 

Your tone was not accusatory, but instead more of a query, like you were trying to figure out her logic, how this all worked out in her mind. 

Violet went silent at your comment, the only sound in the room was that of the rain coming down outside over the cabin. 

You are now turned fully, facing her back, the quiet intimacy of the moment giving you all the courage you needed to ask. 

“Why are you here? What is it you want, Lady Bridgerton?” 

When she did not respond to you, you whispered again, 

“Violet…What are you-” 

“Touch me…please.” 

Her voice was so quiet and strained, it was the most desperate plea you’d ever heard. 

Violet lay there, curled so tightly, the silence following her request so deafening, but anything was better than sitting like that for one more moment trying to figure out what to do with herself. She would rather sit in utter mortification than go another second with that fire burning in the pit of her stomach. 

And just as she thought nothing would come, she felt a brush against her neck, moving her hair back, over her shoulder, tracing a line that burned like hot metal on her skin. 

The hand moved back over her shoulder towards her chest, tracing a path that was so familiar, following every movement she had once done herself, from below her breast, across her ribcage until she felt a wall of warmth all across her back. 

Her breathing grew shakier with each prolonged touch, as an arm slipped under her waist, wrapping around her fully until she was held, until she could no longer feel that ache in her bones, that clenching in her heart. 

She focused on your hands, how they held her, how your body pressed against hers felt like sunlight. 

Your hand stayed where it was for a few moments, but before long, Violet felt it move from where it was draped over her waist and across her stomach, coming to her hip, your fingers gently grabbing the fabric and tugging upwards. 

One. 

Two.

Three. 

Four times. 

Four times was when the hem of the gown was finally between your fingers, when you could slide your hand between skin and fabric, making Violet shudder as you followed the curve of her body upwards, higher and higher until her breast was cupped in your hand and she turned her head towards you as much as she could, her breathing coming in heavier, needier. 

Your chin rested in the crook of her shoulder, your breath against her face felt like air. 

Your other hand, still wrapped around her, took advantage now that her nightgown was lifted so high, sliding lower, across the skin of her abdomen, under the fabric of her underwear, her breathing coming in anticipatory gasps until you finally reached where she was expecting, a moan escaping past her lips. 

Your touch felt like care, like water on the dry soil of a dying plant. 

You moved your hand in such a way that you could run your fingers along her before gently sliding them into her, you looked up at her, pushing yourself up, putting more pressure against her breast, her mouth open but nothing leaving but pants and sighs. 

You continued to move your fingers in and out, a slow rhythmic pace at first, watching with each movement how her chest heaved, how she moaned and whimpered when she wanted more. 

Your touch satisfied that hungry need in the pit of her stomach, but it also soothed the ache in her heart as you didn’t loom over her or sit next to her. 

You held her, her back pressed into your chest in a hold so familiar yet different it felt dizzying, especially when your thumb brushed against a sensitive spot as you moved your fingers prompting Violet to let out a loud gasp of surprise just as you moved your thumb back to continue its movement and pressure against her. 

Violet tried to find words, but none came out of her mouth, the only thing escaping was breathless want. 

Seeing her as she was, you could only think of the flowers you tended to, reared from mere bulbs into bright, colourful, plentiful bushes. How each year you would wait patiently until there was that one tipping point and the flower would open and from there it would bloom without bound.

Here Violet was, in that delicate stage, at that tipping point and you were ready to see the finished product. 

You pressed onwards, giving her more, listening as her moans and whimpers that she desperately tried to hold back came out needily, higher and higher until her eyes screwed shut, her nose scrunched, her mouth open as it let out one last sharp sigh before the waves of pleasure had finished washing over her and her face relaxed, her eyes still closed, lips still parted. 

You carefully removed your fingers, conscious of how sensitive she was, taking your hand out from underneath her, while the other gently let go of her breast, slipping out from underneath her nightgown to come and turn her face back upwards, towards you. 

Your hand was gentle in its caress, in its guidance, and Violet felt her eyes fluttering open as her head was turned. 

The fire crackled in the background, but its sound was drowned out by the rain, its light shining over Violet’s skin in a golden hue, every freckle illumined and sparking. The light that struck her eyes hit her irises in a certain way, giving warmth and life to their cool blue colour. 

You leaned down a little closer, admiring all these small things about the Lady that was lying in front of you. You leaned down until your forehead rested against hers and her eyes fluttered shut again, as did yours, her lips still parted, her breathing still heavy. 

You guided her chin up a little more, closing the gap with your own lips, pressing against hers so faintly. Everything about the kiss felt cautious whereas every other touch felt assured, that was until Violet lifted her head more, fully pressing her lips against yours, relying on your hand to hold her, to keep her steady until she could reach out with her own arms holding your neck, your waist, feeling the shape of you against her hand, her fingers. 

There may have been no harm in looking, but surely touching was much better. 

As your lips parted and you moved away only slightly to look at her once more, your hand brushing aside some hair that had come to cover her face. She moved her own hand to hold yours that was against her face, turning her head to kiss it. 

You moved to lower yourself next to her on the bed and she made the effort to turn and face you. From there it was easy for her to be wrapped up in your arms and to wrap her arms around someone other than herself. 

A few months ago Violet had hired a gardener, but little did she know that gardener would eventually tend to her.

[infiniteimaginings]

VIOLET BRIDGeTtON PLEASE PLEASE

A Courtship? (Violet Bridgerton x GN!Reader)

Summary: You court the dear Violet Bridgerton and she is surprised, but quite flushed at the idea. Pronouns: You/Yours, They/Them Warnings: Slight angst Word Count: 4.8k A/N: I've had this idea for months. Months. I love this woman with my whole heart. There will be a part two because this got too long. Tagging: @etherynn @theonefairygodmother @ignaciocv

The Bridgerton home was a home that everyone wished for. The structure itself was beautiful, multiple floors, dozens of rooms, chandeliers, paintings of the family. It wasn’t the structure itself that the people of society were necessarily jealous of, no, it was the family themselves.

The Bridgerton family were blessed with handsome sons, beautiful daughters, all from a gorgeous, loving pair of parents. They were blessed with talented children in the arts, in the mind, and even in the heart. 

When the new season arrives for daughters to find husbands, mothers are already preparing their own children for the Bridgerton daughters arrivals. Daphne was the diamond of the season, she was almost engaged to a prince, and she is now a duchess. Eloise consistently gained the attention of each suitor on the floor, and Francesca was named the ‘Sparkler’ of the season for her intelligently beautiful compositions on the piano, which everyone knew the meaning of. The Bridgertons were a family that could not be out-charmed.

That wasn’t the only reason that society was jealous of the Bridgertons, they were jealous because the family seemed to love each other so dearly. Whenever they were seen out in the gardens, at the lakes, at balls, they were all laughing with one another, dancing even. Not many families can reflect such a powerful bond, that is why everyone is jealous of the Bridgertons, because they have each other.

It was an early afternoon where the birds were chirping, the sun was shining warmly through the windows, and everyone was ready for the day. The family were all in their day clothes, already having eaten breakfast and practiced any compositions, writings, and or drawings they wanted to complete that day. Due to that, the Bridgerton home was lively and bustling with laughter as it typically was in the day. 

Gregory and Hyacinth were up to their usual troubles, swiping sweets from their siblings plates, discussing future plans that were way too far out for them to worry about, and playing games that they couldn’t understand how they were losing to each other.

Anthony was teasing Colin for his activities at the prior party quietly, away from their mothers sharp ears across the room. Though they hid their whispers and scolding, anyone could see how Anthony gently hit Colin in the back of the neck before shaking him by his shoulder with a gracious smile.

Francesca was practicing one of her pieces, creating a peaceful background to the activities at hand. This was also known as her not wanting to involve herself in the activities of her siblings, which everyone was quite fine with. Kate was enjoying the music as she sat on the bench with Francesca, enjoying her cup of tea as she listened to the melodies. 

Two others who weren’t invested in what was happening with the rest of the house were Eloise and Benedict, who constantly looked as if they were planning something. Eloise would point to something in her book and Benedict would chuckle, rolling his eyes as he looked away. The brown haired girl would close her book and smack her brother in the shoulder with her hand and he simply laughed harder. No one knew what they were talking about, but everyone knew that it was just how they were.

Watching all of the Bridgerton children happily tending to themselves within the same room, within the comfort of each other brought a smile to someone's face. That someone was Violet Bridgerton, the mother of each and every one of those beautiful children. She had her hands rested on her lap, her eyes shifted from the couch across her where Benedict and Eloise sat to the piano where Francesa and her daughter in law Kate didn’t speak, but enjoyed each other's company. She watched her youngest children run across the room, almost knocking into their older brothers who stopped their conversation to grab hold of them and join in on the excitement. 

Violet Bridgerton loved her family, and they all loved her dearly as well. That’s why they fit together, that’s why they always worked.

It wasn’t unusual for the Bridgerton home to receive visitors, so when the footman walked in no one paid him much mind. The only person who turned their head was Violet, as she had been the one to pay more mind ever since Daphne's first season.

The footman stood tall as he entered, hands at his sides, the door now open. “My lady,” He greeted, not looking anywhere in particular, “a noble has arrived to call upon you.”

The Bridgertons focus was now set to the footman before they all looked at one another, more specifically they all looked at Eloise, the girl who has yet to find a husband. 

The brown haired girl looked around for a moment before turning to look at the footman, “Me?” She asked hesitantly, grabbing hold of Benedict to hide herself from whoever may have walked through the door. The brother, in response, shoved her from him with a teasing smile, causing the girl to only pull him even more to shield herself.

The footman didn’t look at Eloise when she spoke, he looked at Violet for a moment before speaking. “For the Viscountess Violet Bridgerton.” He announced slowly, no clear expression on his face.

The Bridgerton children all went back to their typical tasks, a little quiet since they had a visitor, but they did not mind the visitor at all. It could’ve been anyone, Lady Danbury, any of the neighbors, or simply her friends. It didn’t necessarily concern the children, so they continued with their afternoon.

Violet clapped her hands and stood with a smile, “Please, send them in!” She spoke happily, walking from the couch to the center of the room to be able to greet the visitor.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t a known person on a personal level who had walked into the Bridgerton drawing room, it was someone Violet had only ever spoken to for a few moments at balls or other parties. 

You were a noble who was well known within society for your estates, businesses, your family lineage, and overall your general charm. There were no rumors about you, but there were also no praises within Lady Whistledown nor from the queen, you were simply a sharp noble who kept up with expectations.

Though it was a bit surprising, Violet still greeted you with a gentle smile and sparkle in her eyes. “How unexpected!” She announced, causing her children to turn their heads to the door where you stood with a soft expression. “It’s wonderful to see you, Noble.” She spoke as she curtseyed, greeting you.

Her children all followed suit with a collective, “Good day”, all bowing and/or curtseying to greet you.

You walked in a little further, facing Violet as you bowed, “Good day, Viscountess Bridgerton.” You spoke softly, soon turning to face the others before greeting them as well, “Good day, Lord and Lady Bridgertons.”

After greetings ceased, Violet tilted her head a bit, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” She asked, gently turning her body as she awaited your response. 

You finally remembered that you hadn’t expressed why you had found yourself at the Bridgerton home, you bowed once more as a sign of apology, “Dearest Viscountess-” You began to speak, but Violet soon filled the room with her laughter, waving your words off politely, “Oh, please, call me Violet.” 

You nodded, taking a bit of a deep breath. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as all of the Bridgerton eyes were on you, something you should have expected, but you did not account for. “Dearest Violet, I’ve come to inquire if…” You trailed off, seeing if you could find the right words to let this visit go smoothly.

“If?” She asked expectantly, shoulders raised high, polite smile still gracing her face.

She was met with no answer for a moment before you let out a shuddered breath and stood tall, your eyes only meeting hers. “If I might seek your favor in courting you.” You finally spat out, your voice stronger than you expected, but as long as you didn’t stutter, you didn’t mind.

The room filled with silence. Francesca abruptly stopped playing, the children all stopped their giggles to stare at the doorway, any conversation was paused at the sudden announcement.

Anthony walked to stand next to his mother, getting a good look at you, “Court?” He asked, brows furrowed in a bit of confusion. 

Kate quickly stood from the piano and walked to Anthony, grasping his arm gently, “Anthony, I implore you.” She mumbled into her husband's ear before turning to smile at you, “I apologize.” She spoke on his behalf, trying to stay as polite as possible.

You bowed gently to her, “There is no need for that Viscountess Bridgerton, I do understand why he would ask.” You assured her, standing straight as you made eye contact with the man of the house who you had yet to answer. “To answer your concerns, Viscount Bridgerton, indeed. I wish to court the Lady Violet.” You spoke, turning to the subject of the matter, the subject who held a shocked expression on her face.

Violet couldn’t even respond, she could feel her face warming but she was unsure if that was because she was flustered at the sudden position she was in, or if she was flattered. Before she could open her mouth to speak, someone else weaved their way into the conversation.

“You’re asking her?” Gregory asked from the side of the room, voice filled with confusion as he stood next to his sister. 

The room seemed to murmur with agreement, typically if you were courting a dowager, you would go through the eldest son to ask for permission. Anthony seemed just as confused as Violet, so it seemed you didn’t ask him.

You let out a nervous laugh as you finally noticed all the eyes boring into your figure, all you could do was stand awkwardly as you tried to think of an answer for your choices.

Violet noticed your sudden pulse of anxiety and clapped her hands, “Children, could give the noble and me a moment, please?”

Anthony began to shake his head, “Mother-” 

Kate gently tugged at Anthony, “Of course.” She spoke quietly with a nod, looking at Anthony sharply as she led him out the room.

Gregory and Hyacinch were ushered out by Colin who followed behind, Francesca stood from the piano quickly and quietly to walk out the door. Eloise stood with a slightly impressed expression and Benedict did the same, holding out his arm to her to which she took, the two walking out, turning their heads ever so slightly to observe you a bit more.

Soon enough, you and Violet Bridgerton were alone in the drawing room, sure that all of the children were listening at the door. You didn’t mind, you just couldn’t handle all of their eyes on you at once.

Violet laughed a bit, turning to sit on the couch, “I beg your pardon for my children’s behavior, we are all deeply involved in each other's lives.” She spoke softly, turning her head to see you standing in the same place stiffly. “Please, come sit.” 

You nodded with a tense smile, walking to the couch and sitting a respectable amount away from her, turning to face her. “They’re remarkably kind to be as protective as they are.” You responded to her, thinking about how even the youngest was concerned for the break in societal norms.

“I love them dearly.” Violet stated a bit awkwardly, placing her hands in her lap as she looked down at them. “Um, I do not wish to be impertinent, but why are you asking me, initially?” She asked you, looking over at you hesitantly, a bit scared to look at you fully.

You paused for a moment to gather your words before you adjusted your clothing, “I wanted to inquire directly, as I was unsure of your interest.” 

“In you?”

“In a caller who holds interest for you.” You specified, taking a deep breath. “I would never want to place you in a situation where I inquired of another if you were comfortable with someone courting you.” 

Violet hummed, her eyes crinkling as the corners of her lips gently upturned, “So, you sought to ensure that I was… ready?” She tried to confirm, licking her lips slightly.

“If you are not, I completely understand.” You responded, your body relaxing slightly now that you were comfortable in the conversations. 

The woman in front of you thought for a moment, “I shall be honest, this is all so-” Her words were interrupted when the doors broke open, shocking the both of you. Violet let out a small surprised gasp and you clutched the side of the couch in shock of the sudden interruption.

Hyacinth rushed in, looking around before locking onto her mother, “Mama! The noble brought gifts!” She announced, looking behind her and running when Benedict came to collect her. 

“Hyacinth!” Benedict spoke through gritted teeth before giving you both a sweet smile, turning to grab his little sister.

Due to the interruption, everyone filed back in, as did carts and carts of presents for the Bridgerton family.

Violet stared, wide eyed, at the collection of different items, some of which she had never seen sell in their town. “This is too much!” She spoke, standing, hand over her chest as she watched more gifts appear. 

You stood as well, dancing on your heels slightly, “Having developed an interest in you and your family over these past few years, it only felt appropriate to present gifts.” You expressed, looking to make sure everything was there.

“You neglected to mention that you brought gifts.” The woman told you, an unexplained feeling being expressed on her.

“I will be honest,” You began, chewing the inside of your cheek, “your family is beautiful as well as intimidating.” You breathed out a chuckle, looking to the floor before looking over at Violet, “I did slightly forget.”

The woman couldn’t hold back her laughter at your words as she placed a hand on your shoulder, “This is all so beautiful.” She told you, watching as the children all went to separate carts before she herself walked forward to one filled with flowers. “These are gorgeous.” She told you, hand gently running over the petals of them.

“I did not know which were your favorite.”

She turned to you, “Hyacinths are my favorite.” 

“I shall note that.” You told her gently, standing back as they all admired the presents.

Eloise stumbled upon a cart filled with books, strange material dawning the bindings, “I’ve never laid eyes on such books before.” She commented, mostly to herself. 

You overheard her musings to herself and spoke up, “They are from my expeditions. Journals penned by philosophers and doctors I have encountered.”

She spun to face you, “Oh, how delightful. More men regurgitating the same ideas they’ve echoed for ages.” She spoke sarcastically, sighing as she returned her attention back to the books.

You nodded a bit at her blunt response, “Most of the writings are by women from different cultures.” You responded, walking over to where Benedict was eyeing another set of gifts.

Eloise watched you walk off and tilted her head thoughtfully, “Oh.”

Benedict lifted a polished wooden box, opening it to reveal a spectrum of vibrant paints within it. “These paints…” He began, marveling at the richness, his gaze shifting to the other boxes, a few engraved with his name, “They’re extraordinary!” He complimented with a smile, examining all the different shades and colors. 

Hearing footsteps approaching him, he assumed it was a sibling and turned to tell them about the paint sets with enthusiasm, but it was you. You grinned at him and asked, “Do you enjoy them?”

Surprised, Benedict responded with, “How did you know I like to paint?”

“I’ve seen your pieces.” You responded simply, not elaborating further.

Benedict scoffed within his laughter, “Where on earth-”

“I cannot divulge that information, unfortunately, I do hope you like them.” You interrupted gently, walking over to the others, leaving the conversation to hang.

This is the way that most of the conversation went, from the sweet treats for the children, the jewelry for the women, the saddles for the men. When you reached Francesca, on the other hand, she wasn’t drawn to any of the items necessarily.

You stood next to her, “Do none of these catch your eye?” You asked, gaze fixed forward rather than towards her.

The girl looked over at you briefly before returning forward, “Everything is lovely,” she replied in a soft voice. 

“None of them catch your eye?” You repeated, your tone calm, almost peaceful.

Francesca shook her head, “They do not.”

Acknowledging her response, you nodded. Leaning forward to one of the carts, you picked up a rather thick box and handed it to Francesca. 

“I do not paint.” She informed you, anticipating what was inside of the wooden boxes due to Benedict's reaction.

Leaning closer to her you whispered, “They are not paints,” before walking back over to Violet who was still looking over everything, unsure of how you were able to get so many items into her home in a short period of time.

When you walked away, Francesca sighed and settled at the piano bench, opening the box you had given her. She was surprised at the sight, they were indeed not paints. A smile broke out onto the girl's face as she eagerly scrambled through the wooden box. It was paper, they weren’t blank sheets, but they were intricate piano compositions. They hailed for composes she had never heard before, but they seemed just her pace, she couldn’t wait to try it out.

Once you finally reached Violet again, the woman seemed calmer than her originally nervous stature. She met your eyes and thanked you over and over again for the gifts, she spoke about how happy her children looked, she spoke about all the beautiful things you brought.

You looked at her with a gentle light in your eyes, not speaking over her, simply listening. When she finished her thankful rambles she awaited you to speak but you gently took her hands and kissed them, almost feather-light. 

Your eyes flicked up to her and stayed in her gaze as your head lifted to its original position, “Please, do think about it.” 

That was the final thing you said to Violet Bridgerton before you took your leave, removing yourself from the Bridgerton home, your mark being made on the family.

The Bridgerton home was now filled with conversation about the almost mysterious noble who filled their drawing room with gifts, and basically asked for their mothers hand. The only topic of conversation at dinner was everyone expressing the presents they had been given, their reviews, how interesting they all were, and more. The only person eating in silence was Violet herself.

After dinner Violet found herself in front of her mirror, brushing her hair quietly as she prepared herself for bed.  A knock sounded at her bedroom door gently, almost too quietly. She rose from her seat in front of her mirror and opened the door, greeted by the face of her eldest son, Anthony, who appeared troubled..

“Anthony, darling, is something the matter?”

Anthony had a deep frown on his face when she asked such a question, “I should be asking you that.” He told her, silently seeking permission to enter the room. 

Violet opened the door wider and walked into her room, sitting on her bed as Anthony closed the room door quietly, opting to stand rather than sit. 

His mother hummed quietly, “Something seems to be wrong.”

The eldest son huffed as he looked at his mother intently, “How do you feel about this?”

She blinked, slightly taken aback, “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean,” Anthony began, sitting next to her, “the noble asked to court you.” He reminded her, looking at her a bit confused on how she would have forgotten. “It doesn’t matter how they’ve charmed the family, they’ve asked to court you, personally.” He told Violet, crossing his arms slightly, “How are you feeling about that?”

Violet turned her gaze to the wall in front of her, contemplating. She had thought the initial shock had settled when you had left, but it was evident that it was still there. She gently placed her hand over her heart as she took a deep breath, “I find it quite flattering, unexpected, but flattering.” She whispered, avoiding her son's gaze.

“But, are you going to accept their request to court you?”

There was a pause as Violet pondered deeply, “I do not know.” She admitted honestly, shaking her head as she imagined the possibility, “I do not know if I can.”

Anthony sighed, gathering his thoughts. “What do you mean, if you can?”

Violet shook her head again, her hand still pressed against her chest, it suddenly felt painful to breathe. “I do not believe I am allowed to.”

“Allowed?”

“Am I able to just…” She took a breath, tears welling up unexpectedly. “Am I able to just move on like that, so easily?” She asked, her vision fogging as a sob quietly choked out. “Would Edmund ever forgive me?” She covered her mouth with one of her hands to stifle any further cries but it proved ineffective.

Anthony had witnessed his mothers vulnerable moments and it had always been difficult. After his father's passing, he had assumed the role of head of the household, yet he had never seen his mother so distraught.  She was giving birth to his youngest sister, and she was devastated at the mere idea of his father not being there. Anthony froze in the moment, he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know how to be there for his mother…and he realized that now, he still didn’t.

Seeing her cry over the guilt of moving on from her first love, questioning if she deserved to be loved by someone new, shattered Anthony's heart into pieces. He slowly wrapped an arm around his mothers crying figure, letting her lean into him as she wept. He smoothed her hair with one of his hands, cheek to the crown of her head as he slowly rocked them both. 

She had every right to feel this way, he just never expected it to hit her all at once. It must’ve been overwhelming, so Anthony just held her quietly, smoothing her hair until her cries quieted down to small hiccups.

“Mama,” He whispered to the woman, waiting for her to respond.

She hummed to let him know she was listening, but she couldn’t find the strength to say anything more in that moment.

Anthony nodded, still holding her close, “I think father would just…” he tried to speak but the words caught in his throat as he thought about his father. 

He remembered how kind his father was, how he wanted nothing but the best for all of their family, how he was never a man to raise his voice. Anthony considered a world where he could speak to his father one more time, where he could ask one last question. He wouldn’t ask if he missed them, if he wanted to be with them, because Anthony knew he would want to. He would ask if his father would truly forgive his mother, and after a moment of contemplating the idea, Anthony believed he knew the answer.

“I think father wouldn’t forgive you.” He suddenly declared, feeling his mother shift her head to look up at him. He knew she would try to speak, but he stopped her with a gentle hand, “I think he wouldn’t forgive you, because there’s nothing to forgive.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, her voice trembling.

Anthony blinked back his own growing tears as he spoke about his father, it was always hard, it would never become easier. “Father always wished for us to be happy, to live, to love, to enjoy ourselves…” He trailed off, trying to find the courage to continue.

“He did always want us to enjoy ourselves, what does that have t-”

“I believe father would want you to remarry if you were ready to love again.” Anthony interrupted, his words were rushed and emotional. It almost seemed as if he struggled to get the sentence out, as if it were hard for the reality of the situation to be accepted.

Violet blinked at Anthony, taken aback “Pardon?”

“Father would want you to live happily; he always wished for it.” He spoke, looking at the floor as he cradled his mother, “I believe…no…” Anthony interrupted his own thoughts, “I know he would want us to remember him fondly, but he would never want to be the reason we hold ourselves off from moving on.”

“Anthony, I am happy with all of you…”

“If you truly had no intention of accepting, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Anthony stated firmly, pulling back from his mother to look her in her eyes. “If you really weren’t considering it, you would have declined the noble’s offer.” 

The words rang in the air for a moment and Violet found herself unable to respond. She couldn’t articulate her thoughts because Anthony was right, she wouldn’t be agonizing over Edmund if a part of her didn’t yearn to accept the courtship.

Seeing as his mother wasn’t ready to reply, Anthony gently withdrew himself from her embrace, “Think about it a bit more, Mother.” He urged gently, walking to the door, “Goodnight.” He bid her, closing the door behind him and leaving Violet Bridgerton alone in her bedroom.

The only thing the woman could think of as she laid her head on the pillow were her son's words, “I think he wouldn’t forgive you, because there’s nothing to forgive.”

A week later, and there had been no sign of you. Violet seemed quieter than usual, but the children didn’t necessarily comment on it, neither did Anthony as he had seen how conflicted his mother was.

In the drawing room, only Violet sat, she would sit alone for a few more moments, even after her family had left. No one questioned her sudden solitude or asked if she wished to join them, they knew she would in due time

Lost in thought, Violet was absently playing with her fingers. She gazed at the windows where she could see people walking the streets, the sun shining on them heavenly. After a while, she stood and brushed herself off with a soft smile, making her way to the door to rejoin her family.

She would’ve continued had the footman not arrived at the door, hands at his sides when he entered. “My lady, you have a caller.” He announced, awaiting her response.

Violet straightened, her eyes widening briefly before she composed herself, “Yes, of course.” She mumbled slightly. “Please, send them in.” She told him quietly, standing in front of the entrance. 

You entered with a warm smile on your face, holding a bouquet of the most exquisite flowers Violet had ever seen. 

Violet curtsied graciously, “Good day, Noble.” She greeted, looking up nervously, her demeanor resembling a debutante in her first season.

You bowed in return, “Good day, Viscountess Bridgerton.” You replied, standing tall as you approached her, gently presenting the bouquet. 

“My favorites…” Violet whispered, observing the Hyacinths with lightly sparkling eyes.

“I took note.” You responded quietly, admiring her reaction.

Violet lightly laughed in response, turning to arrange the flowers in a vase. “Um, do you have time for lunch?” She asked somewhat hastily, attempting to be welcoming, but she was overall fairly nervous.

You shook your head regretfully, “Unfortunately not, I’ve come to bring you a gift and thank you for accepting my invitation.”

“Oh, well, you’re welcome.” She spoke a bit solemnly.

You stepped closer, gently taking her hands in yours. “I have business this morning, but I would like to return tomorrow. Perhaps we could take a walk in the afternoon, if you would enjoy that?”

The woman gently nodded, a stray curl from her pinned up hair gently escaping, “I would enjoy that…” She responded, her voice falling off as you tucked the curl back into place.

“I shall look forward to it then.” You said, bowing gracefully before making your way out of the Bridgerton estate.

Once you were gone, Violet couldn’t help but gently smell the flowers you had gotten for her. You were quite thoughtful and she recognized that early on, but the flowers only reinforced the sentiment.

The brown haired woman smiled to herself, “Maybe this really will be good for me.” She whispered, walking out of the drawing room to join her family.

The beautiful hyacinths rested on the ledge amidst the family portraits, appearing as though the space there was meant for them all along. As though they belonged there.

[midnightscramble]

unsure if you’ve already been asked this or it’s planned but would love to see a part 3 for good luck, maid! if you’re open to it 😆 not picky about what’s in the plot but might be cool to get a situation that forces either one to confess their attractions to each other ☺️

Good Luck, Maid! Part 3 (Violet Bridgeton x fem!Reader)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

The Masterlist

Author’s Note: I only write based on requests left in my inbox, this is the first formal request, and thank goodness for it, I was itching to write more for Violet! Thanks for the detailed ask (if it's not to your liking feel free to request again, don't be shy!) Happy readings to you.

Summary: Violet implores a friend to find out the circumstances around Y/n's previous employment. Y/n and Violet have another accidental meeting late at night. Violet's feelings manifest.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut, touch starved Violet, fingering (Violet receiving), technically they do it in public, period typical homophobia, brief discussion of skewed power dynamics, no Beta read

Lady Danbury had been quick to agree to Violet's request for tea, and by midday they sat across from each other in the Danbury estate's drawing room.

After the exchange of usual pleasantries and talk of bubbling gossip around the Ton, Lady Danbury had surmised the true purpose of their meeting. "I take it you are ready to discuss the unspeakable?" Palming her cane in one hand and delicately bringing the teacup to her lips, Agatha raised her eyebrows in her usual prompting fashion.

Violet suddenly went to stand. Wringing her hands together she walked towards the piano, admiring the vase of flowers which sat upon it. She nervously rearranged them and cleared her throat, "Yes, it seems as though I have developed uh, how do I phrase this..." Violet turned to look at her. Patient as ever, Lady Danbury raised her chin and let a soft smile grace her lips.

"I have developed feelings for a member of my staff."

Lady Danbury threw her head back and cackled in response, "By the way you were behaving, I had thought you were going to say you had developed feelings for a criminal of some kind. To have feelings for a member of staff, while frowned upon publicly, is surprisingly common. Nothing to be embarrassed about, Dear." It never ceased to surprise her the shame that Violet Bridgerton would inflict upon herself for being like the rest of high society.

Inhaling through her nose and feeling her eyes start to sting, Violet lowered her gaze to the ground, "And if these feelings were criminal, then what, Agatha?"

Humming, Lady Danbury pondered the question. "You are no criminal, Violet..." She put her teacup on it's dish. Sitting forward with both hands on her cane, she motioned for Violet to sit on the couch across from her.

Violet sat and smoothed her dress as Lady Danbury openly stared at her. "Violet, do you mean to tell me that you are experiencing a liking of the fairer sex?"

By instinct, Violet opened her mouth to deny such a notion and then swallowed the words before they could escape, and instead answered with a simple "Yes." The woman across from her lent back in consideration. Briefly, they sat in silence.

"You are right. In this country, if you were to even speak of such things, it would be reprehensible by the law. However... in this house, such is not the case," she reached forward and grabbed Violet's hand, "You are no criminal to me, Violet, regardless of what society may say."

Choking on a sob, Violet covered her mouth with her free hand. "Thank you, Agatha. You have no idea how dear you are to me," she sniffled and tried to collect herself, "I was worried you would not find me suitable for your company once I told you."

Releasing her grip on Violet's, Lady Danbury spoke light heartedly "Nonsense. You may worry no more. Now, tell me, who has caught your eye?" Violet chuckled lightly, of course the woman would not be concerned with the controversy of the matter at hand, always more keen to hear the details of romance.

"Eloise's maid, we had to let go of mine, and Miss Y/n replaced her" Her cheeks tinted pink as she continued, "Just last night we had an encounter in the kitchen. I was restless and wandering and there she was. We spoke and it was as if we really saw each other. By the way she looked at me, it was almost as if she could see through me."

"And you are sure she was not looking through your night dress?" Lady Danbury laughed at Violet's Gasp.

"Oh Agatha, you are terrible," Violet swatted at Lady Danbury and they fell into a fit of laughter.

Once they regained composure Lady Danbury wondered out loud, "You seem quite taken with her, and with such haste, how is that possible?" Violet nodded in understanding, she had been wondering the same thing herself.

"I can't be sure, I find myself thinking of her frequently. It has become undeniable. In fact, I find myself concerned with her well being..." Violet looked imploringly at her friend, "Particularly her past."

Narrowing her eyes at Violet's words, Lady Danbury felt a smugness settle within her. She knew that Violet was tempting her with a challenge, and oh, how she loved to play games. But of course, this was mostly to help quell Violet's anxieties, not flex her own societal prowess.

"What do you know of her already"

...

The sun had set in the Ton by the time Violet returned home. The chilled night air prompted the fireplaces to be lit and extra blankets to be spread across beds. Although satisfied with her day and comforted by the support of her friend, Violet was still buzzing with anxious energy.

Knowing she would be tired the next day if she did not seek rest soon, she decided to brave the cold wood floors with bare feet in an effort to get to the study. She would read herself to exhaustion if she had to. Descending the grand stairs she squinted through the darkness, overhearing giggles coming from another corridor. Focusing, she made the voices out to be Hyacinth and Gregory, no doubt snooping through the letters that Colin had sent Anthony about his travels. She smiled softly, and listened to their childish joy, until the sound of the study door creaking open forced her to veer down the opposing hallway.

Colliding with something, she gasped. Strong hands gripped her waist, and they tumbled towards the wall as her own hands landed upon lean shoulders. Y/n pulled Violet flush against her, in an effort to keep them both from falling. With a shaky release of breath and heart beating out of her chest, Violet's eyes flickered across Y/n's face.

As Y/n went to move away, Violet's grip tightened, her fingers flexing into the material of Y/n's uniform as she steadied herself. Her heartbeat had slowed slightly, but not settled as the excitement of their position dawned upon her.

The woman's eyes took in the pink dusting of Violet's cheeks and quickly dilating pupils. Violet's hands shook as she slid them across Y/n's shoulders and toward her neck. With bated breath she waited for a response of any kind. Would Y/n push her off, tell her she was as bad as the Lord she worked for before, and leave the Ton in fear of Violet ruining her? Before her thoughts could spiral anymore, she felt Y/n's hold on her waist loosen and her hands migrated up towards the sides of her breast, stopping before making contact. With the slightest of pressure on her ribcage, she was guided backwards a few inches until she was pressed against the wall.

Shooting forward, she brought their mouths together. Every thing she had imagined in no way measured up to the soft caress of Y/n's lips against her own. With one hand she cradled the side of Y/n's face, smoothing the apple of her cheek with her thumb as she tried to commit the very feel of the woman to her memory. Her other hand grasped at her neck like an anchor.

With greater confidence, Y/n snaked her hand inward and cusped the woman's breast, causing Violet to release a gasp into the kiss. She slowly swiped her tongue across Violet's lower lip and gently prodded into her mouth. Y/n ran her thumb over Violet's raised nipple, feeling it tighten at her ministrations.

Despite the cold night air, Violet's skin was hot to the touch and the all too familiar warmth of arousal grew in her lower belly. Her legs clenched together in need as she tried to relieve the aching. Once Y/n noticed Violet's squirming she broke the kiss and lowered herself slightly to lick and suck at Violet's neck. Perfectly positioned as to not break contact, Y/n dropped her hands to Violet's legs. Through the soft fabric of her nighty, Y/n felt her way from the outside of Violet's leg to the inner crease of where they strongly pressed together. She swiftly parted them with force, filling the space with her own leg. Violet sighed heavily and let her head thud against the wall as she tried to catch her breath. Not allowing the woman a moment of reprieve, Y/n's hands wrapped around her waist and forced her upon her leg. Violet's hips involuntarily bucked at the first contact, and a hearty moan clawed its way out of her throat.

Overwhelmed by the sensation, she dropped her forehead to Y/n's shoulder and breathed heavily. She could feel the slick of her arousal cling to her night dress at the point where Y/n's leg pressed into her. She could hardly believe herself, rutting into the other woman like a wild animal, out in the open, with only the protection of darkness. She flushed at her own indecency. Y/n tugged on her nightgown, causing her breasts to become exposed. Her head shot up as she quickly searched the hall, it was useless, the pitch black of night was thicker than tar. Lips enclosed around her nipple, licking softly at the peak and then tugging it sharply with teeth. She yelped and immediately bit into Y/n's shoulder to quiet herself. Breathing through her nose, she felt Y/n's fingertips drag the bottom of her nightgown up towards her. With great anticipation, she felt Y/n gently remove her leg from between her thighs and continue the slow drag of fabric upwards.

She raised her head and met the other woman's eyes, "Please, touch me, I-" Y/n's hand cupped her radiating sex and she ground the heal of her palm into the Violet's clit and traced the opening of her lips. Not knowing what to do with herself, she laid soft kisses on the column of Y/n throat, mewling slightly as Y/n's fingers entered her wetness. Her eyes shut as Y/n rhythmically entered her, her own clenching creating a delectable drag when Y/n removed her fingers.

"Ohh, please, Y/n please," Violet begged in a whisper. She whimpered as Y/n's pace increased and her fingers started to curl into her as if she were searching for something. And indeed she was, Y/n felt for the spongy texture of her walls and ran her finger tips against it with pressure. Violet nearly choked at the sensation, even with all her experiences with Edmund, she had never felt such delight. Her legs closed, as if she were worried Y/n would suddenly remove herself. Violet's mind became hazy as she lost herself in their love making. She could feel Y/n everywhere, Y/n's mouth had consumed her entirely, her long fingers had graced her insides, and she was sure that the woman had somehow penetrated her mind.

Her hips began to stutter and Y/n could tell she was close. She watched Violet's face contort in pleasure as she played her like an instrument and listened for the beautiful music she emitted. Her gasps and whines were enough encouragement for Y/n to double her efforts and add another finger. Violet's back arched and Y/n could feel her walls quake with her release. Slowing her ministrations, she continued to guide her through the entirety of her completion.

Once she was sure Violet had finished, Y/n gently removed her fingers but kept one hand flush with her still pulsing sex and the other moved hair out of her face. Violet looked at her owlishly, face burning from the activity. She looked something out of the paintings that her and Lady Danbury had par-oozed the day she admitted her desperation for touch; breasts proudly displayed and nipples now raised by the cool air, skin reddened with arousal and hair tousled from the friction of the wall.

"We should go to my room, and talk," Violet offered breathlessly.

...

Back in the safety of her room, Violet offered Y/n a nightgown to change into. Sitting on the bed, she watched as Y/n undressed in front of her. All the bravado she had moments ago vanished, and she sat on her hands to keep herself from reaching out. When the other woman finished changing, Violet opened the bed invitingly, "Since I have no obligations tomorrow and you are the only one permitted to enter my room, you can stay the night and we will be unbothered." She smiled softly and Y/n smiled back.

Her heart fluttered with contentment as Y/n climbed into bed and opened her arms to the other woman. With her head laid on Y/n's chest, Violet released a deep breath as she settled. Her eyes began to close in relaxation until a thought crossed her mind, "was that your first time with a woman?"

"No," Violets chest tightened and her heart picked up as she listened intently, "The last house I worked for, the Lady and I became close..." Their earlier conversation came to the forefront of Violet's mind as this new information clicked into place. It was not a Lord per say who had misused Y/n, but a Lady. A Lady who Y/n undoubtedly got caught with and thus came the termination of her employment.

Her hand went to Y/n's, "It is quite a miracle you are here today," Violet thanked her guardian angels for bringing Y/n safely to her. Of all the things that could have happened to Y/n, for her to only lose a job rather than her head was an act of divine intervention.

"It is, it really is. I heard that the Lord of the house had actually passed recently, and now there are only three people who know this secret, including you and I." Violet hummed, her eyes slipped closed and right before sleep took her an offhanded thought drifted through her mind, she vindictively wished that number would be reduced to two.

...

Violet and Y/n awoke as a knock sounded on Violet's door. Startled, Y/n leapt out of bed, ducked towards the ground and shimmied underneath it. Violet's heart raced as she dawned a robe and opened it just a crack.

Before her stood Hyacinth with a letter in hand, "Mama, you have been asleep all day," she drawled, "I know you haven't been sleeping well, however I figured you should sleep no longer as we have received word," the young girl shoved the letter towards her mother, "that Colin and Penelope will be returning from their honeymoon this afternoon."

"Oh, thank you Hyacinth-"

"And I took it upon myself to invite the Featheringtons over to celebrate their arrival. It is rather perfect timing, Eloise and Francesca are yet to leave so we will have ample conversation. I have alerted the staff of all preparations needed, don't worry a thing Mama," She leaned forward and kissed her mom on the cheek before skipping off. Violet scoffed and closed her door.

"It turns out I do have obligations." The women laughed at Hyacinth's behavior. Y/n got out from under the bed, and immediately started to arrange Violet's outfit for the day.

...

Calling hour arrived and Lady Danbury swiftly made her way through the long halls of the Bridgerton estate. Her heels struck menacingly against the wood floors. The butler guiding her to the drawing room felt as though if he did not keep pace with her, she would strike him with her cane.

“Lady Bridgerton you have a caller, the fine Lady Danbury is here.”

“Let her right in, thank you.” Violet stood from the couch and clasped her hands in front of her. She was sure her friend would have quite the shock when she told her of last night’s tryst with Y/n. The moment Lady Danbury had crossed the threshold, Violet could tell the woman was eager to speak.

“Violet, thank goodness I have caught you alone. I found out about your...friend's previous employment.” Violet cocked her head to the side, she had such a blissful morning with Y/n that she had nearly forgotten about the wild goose chase she had sent Lady Danbury on.

"Oh, what did you discover."

"She was working for the-" a footman cleared his throat as he entered the drawing room.

"My Lady, the Featheringtons have arrived." He announced. Violet nodded and waited for him to exit before resuming the conversation.

"You were saying Agatha?"

"Well that’s just it. The Featheringtons."

[muxshwriting]

blessed to be

Violet Bridgerton x maid!reader

summary: as her maid, you can't help but grow close to the Bridgerton matriarch || word count: 1293 || masterlist

REQUESTED: can you please make a Violet Bridgerton x maid fanfic?? I'm literally so hungry for some Violet fanfics.

Violet Bridgerton needed a new lady’s maid. Her previous maid was getting married and would be released from the household to start her own with her new husband. Therefore, Violet was in need of a new lady’s maid to aid her, leaving the troublesome task to her loyal housekeeper.

A week later, Mrs Wilson approached the drawing room with a woman following behind her. "This is your new lady’s maid Ma’am." She announced.

The woman behind her lowered her head and offered a small smile. Violet returned her smile, introducing herself and learning your name. "I'm sure you'll do splendidly in this household. Mrs Wilson will tend to your needs and show you your duties."

"Yes Ma'am." You hesitated as you turned to leave. "Thank you."

As you settled into your duty, you couldn't help but be grateful for your fortunate position. Yes, you were a maid but you were a maid to one of the wealthiest families in the ton, a family that had (at least) a basic respect for their staff and took care of them. Most importantly, Violet cared. The matriarch would ask your opinion on fabrics and hairstyles and jewellery before deciding.

"What about the emeralds with this dress for Eloise?" Violet softly asked, holding a blush coloured dress.

You scrunched your eyebrows in concentration, weighing up the combination. "Perhaps something less colourful for Eloise? Something like crystal or quartz, perhaps white sapphires. She doesn't wish to stand out by wearing something like emeralds." You suggest, hurriedly adding the honorific at the end, "Ma'am."

Violet thinks for a second before nodding handing the dress back to you to hang up, reaching for a diamond necklace to compare. "I quite agree. Eloise will appreciate your concern." She paused for a moment, "I appreciate your concern."

"Just helping however I can Ma'am."

It was a quiet day where Violet was sitting in the drawing room with her embroidery, and had requested you to join her. You never had time to learn the special embroidery stitches, learning the basics to sew patches into clothing and fix tears. Instead, you carried a few napkins that had sprouted holes, working on them as Violet embroidered.

"Why did you never marry?" Violet began the conversation. The two of you had discussed the topic before, but not the why.

You stuttered out a response. "Having a husband never appealed to me Ma'am. I'm very fortunate that I don't have to marry. I got to focus on my studies, teaching all the local children how to read and write and calculate simple sums. It's not a brilliant education but it's something that quite a few children never get to learn."

Violet smiled. "Perhaps you could finally persuade Hyacinth that her education is important then."

"Nothing will change Miss Hyacinth's mind once she has set it. I'm sure the Governess you employ will do a brilliant job with her education." You laughed slightly. "Besides, I couldn't leave you to-" You cut yourself off, suddenly embarrassed at what you're saying.

Violet isn't bothered. Without looking up from her stitching, she silently reached over a hand to hold yours. Both of you ceased your work, enjoying the silence and comfort of each other's company.

"You're very dear to me Y/N." Violet said quietly, also seeming embarrassed at her own words. "You mean a great deal to the family as well." She was stumbling for the right words to say, dancing around the main subject.

"I feel very fondly of you to Violet." The woman lightly gasped as you said her name gently. You spoke her name, not her title, not ma'am, not mistress. You had called her Violet. Her reaction had you second guessing everything you had ever done as you bundled your napkins into your arms and stood, pulling your hand from hers. "My apologies Ma'am. I shall be in the servant quarters." Your eyes were trained to the ground, inspecting the dust on your shoes. "If you need me for anything, I am simply a call away."

You had just broken one of the biggest class rules of society. Never ever address a person of higher standing by their name. You show respect, you use their title or honorifics, never their name alone and certainly not their first name. By doing so, you were equivocating yourself with her family or her lover.

And you were not either of those things. You couldn't possibly be.

You kept your distance from Violet thereafter, performed your duties perfectly. You never spoke out of turn, offered your opinion only when it was asked for and didn't add any more detail than your mistress required. Violet had an tinge of pity in her eyes whenever she looked at you now and it made your blood boil. You did not need her pity, why was she offering you pity?

In her own mind, Violet was scheming. You thought you were in trouble, that you had overstepped. But Violet wished you would overstep more. She did not mind that you used her name, it stirred a feeling inside of her she had never experienced before, certainly not with another woman. She wanted that feeling to return.

The glowing, pulsing warmth that came when you used her name, when she held your hand. The shivers that tumbled down her spine and sizzled into darkness and dread when you had pulled away. She didn't know what was happening to her, she had never considered anything like this before.

Violet Bridgerton was a mother, she cared for her children above her own needs and desires, right? She had done so for over a decade. But what was stopping her from pursuing her own desires? Anthony was married, there was new Viscountess to herd the Bridgerton debutantes through the marriage mart. Violet could relax, she could breath.

Most importantly, she could chase that consuming feeling she felt when she was with you.

Violet had cornered you in her bedchambers after getting dressed, asking to speak with for a moment. You kept your head down, terrified that you would lose what you had started to cherish, this family and her.

"I don't know how to say what I want to say correctly." She began.

Your eyebrows furrowed as the conversation led down a vastly different path than what you had thought.

"But I cannot remain silent." She continued, taking a deep breath and wringing her hands together. "There is a feeling, deep in my chest, whenever I am with you. It is like a string pulling me towards you and filling my heart with warmth and love and-"

"The feeling like you cannot breath when they are not near. The world seems to slow and mysteries make sense..." You trail off with uncertainty after interrupting her, trying to help her find the words.

"Do you feel it?" Violet had taken a step toward you, her hands hovering by her side, begging to reach out and hold yours.

Silently, you indulge her, reaching forward and taking her hands in yours. Instantly, it's like there is a weight that had been lifted. "This feeling is why I could never marry." You whisper to her, sharing your secret. "There has never been a man to make me feel this way."

Violet sighed. "It was different with Edmund. He was my everything, possessing my every thought and corrupting my mind. He was the air that we breathed, when he- When he died, I locked that feeling away, never wanting to be hurt that way again. I continued to live for the sake of my children, teaching them that love is worth all the pain it might bring."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You don't hurt me my dear." She confessed. "You heal me."

the request is finally here!!! I've got a few others in my inbox rn and I promise I'm getting to them. I just got back from a stunning cruise around the mediterranean so am just settling back into my work routine for the summer x

[lifesizehysteria]

Counting Freckles | A Violet Bridgerton Fic

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: M Pairing: Violet Bridgerton x fem!Reader Summary: No plot, just freckles and sex. An ode to Violet Bridgerton's freckles. Notes: First attempt at this POV. We can all thank @cptn-nash and @sleepyfireball for convincing me to give it a try. Also another thank you to @shmaptainwrites for permission to steal her formatting style because I fell in love with her visuals. 💜 AO3

When Violet Bridgerton took up residence in the estate next to yours, her two youngest children in tow, you had no idea what to expect, but you had been hopeful, at least, for a friendly neighbor with whom you shared some commonalities. It wasn’t often one came across another young dowager widow, after all. She was reserved but friendly, waving whenever she passed by, and her children were well-mannered, if rather lively. You had no idea that a chance meeting out in the garden on a particularly sunny spring day, when you invited her in for some lemonade, would forever change the course of your life, and your heart. 

What began as an easy friendship quickly turned into a passionate affair that took you both by surprise, but your mutual attraction was undeniable and refused to be ignored. At first you were quite discreet. Careful to never be caught, always locking doors, never spending the night, stifling moans with hands and pillows and mouths so as not to be overheard. Eventually, though, once Violet’s youngest children flew the nest and you found yourselves alone aside from the servants, both of your patience for playing pretend wore thin. Your houses were modest, minimally staffed, and rarely frequented by any of your adult children. There was little risk by then, and what risk remained was worth the comfort of waking up every morning with the one you loved. Who was really paying attention to a couple of old widows, anyway?

You woke to the misty blue light of a cloudy early morning, and the sound of rain pattering against the window. Turning onto your side, you could see Violet asleep on her stomach, her long hair sprawled, wild across her pillow and over her neck. Its rich brown was streaked with silver like veins of sparkling moonlight. She would have hated you for thinking it, but you would swear there was more gray in it every day, which you did not mind because it just added to her beauty. Smiling, you brushed it away from her back, twisting a lock between your fingers as you did so, revealing the freckles smattering the skin across her shoulders. You had them memorized by now, the way they were sprinkled down her back, over her chest and arms and face, like stars scattered across the night sky. You would never understand how anyone thought them an imperfection.

Her breathing was still deep and steady, so you ran your finger featherlight along a trail of them next to her spine. When you reached the neckline of her nightdress, unable to follow them down below, you dragged your finger back up, connecting freckles like constellations. She began to stir, her shoulder twitching as your fingernail traced along its top. Sleep continued to hold her, so you began to follow your finger with your lips, placing slow, delicate kisses along as much bare skin as you could find.

The warmth of your breath washed over Violet until it made her shiver. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, but her body was rousing quickly, each kiss from your lips drawing more tension into her muscles. A sleepy moan rumbled in her throat while she aimlessly sought out something, any part of you to touch. After several unsuccessful pats that landed on the blanket bundled between you, she found your waist. Gripping it, she used your body to help roll onto her back so you hovered over her, taking away all of those delicious freckles as she did so.

Her face was relaxed, her blue eyes half closed as she gazed up at you through her lashes. The flush in her cheeks matched the pink of her pouting lips, the sight of her irresistible. You brought your hand to her face, sweeping hair away from her forehead to reveal more freckles there. You traced your fingertips down her temple toward her cheek, and she turned her face into your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. You bit your lower lip as you smiled down at her, marveling at how, after so many mornings together, she could still take your breath away. 

Violet inhaled deeply, arching her back to stretch the sleep from her spine, drawing your eye to the white cotton of her nightdress pulling tight across her chest. A current of arousal spread its way through your body and you had to swallow the pool that had formed in your mouth. 

“You are awake early, my love,” she said, her voice still thick with sleep. 

You nodded your head, unable to clear the fogginess that had begun to settle. “I think it was the rain that woke me.”

Her eyebrows lifted, her face perking up. “Is it raining?” she asked, tilting her head to listen. Once it registered, she closed her eyes for a moment to take in the sound. “Do you not just love the sound of rain?” The serene smile that pulled across her mouth was too much for you to resist any longer. 

“Among other things…” you muttered with a devilish smirk before dipping your head to kiss her.

She gasped against your mouth, her grip on your waist tightening. After her surprise waned, her lips fell into your rhythm—slow, almost leisurely. This was not a morning for frenzied passion, but for tender lovemaking. You had awoken beside an angel and you intended to take her to heaven. 

A hazy desire built around you, swirling in both your bellies, your hearts beating gently like the rain against glass. You traipsed your fingers down her neck and around to cradle her head. Burying them in her hair, you encouraged her head to tip back, exposing her neck so you could drag your lips down its length. You dipped your tongue into the hollow at the base, the wet heat making Violet’s breath hitch as she pulled you closer.

You nipped at her collarbone before devouring your way down her chest, delighted to have found more of your favorite freckles. Violet let out a lilting laugh when you grunted upon reaching the fabric of her nightdress, only to start tugging at it unsuccessfully with your free hand. 

“Let me,” she said, maneuvering herself so she could help. Mischief shone in her eyes as she locked your gaze in hers, enjoying the frustration on your face as she slipped the sleeves off of her shoulders, then slowly slid her arms out through the wide neckline. 

You did not realize your mouth hung open, staring while she pushed both the dress and blanket down below her breasts to her navel, until her warm fingers brushed along your jawline. “You stare as though you have not seen them hundreds of times before,” she laughed again. 

“I stare because they are perfect. The eighth wonder of the world.”

“You mock me,” she playfully accused, running her thumb along the edge of your lower lip. Of course, she knew better, but how she loved when you worshiped her. 

“I have never meant anything more,” you promised in a throaty whisper. You pulled the tip of her thumb into your mouth, sucking gently. At the same time, your free hand slid up and over her belly and ribs to cup one of her breasts. The weight of it was blissfully familiar, the freckle-dusted flesh spilling over your hand slightly while her nipple tightened against your palm. You took it between your fingers, rolling and pinching until her eyebrows drew together, her lip clenched between her teeth. The two sensations at the same time threatened to overcome her. Desire seared through her body, making her whimper when the muscles between her legs tightened against the ever persistent pulse beating there. 

With a kiss, you released her thumb, which left a cool wet trail along your chin and neck as she dragged her fingers down to the base of your throat, fingernails lightly scraping your skin. Kissing her lips once more, you then marked a path with kisses, growing more open-mouthed, down her neck, over the freckles on her chest, and down the pillowy, stretch-lined flesh of her other breast. You let your breath rush over her nipple before taking it into your mouth, sucking and nipping, rolling your tongue over it in unison with your fingers on the other. Her hand pushed around to the back of your neck, her fingers plunging into your loosely braided hair and urging you closer.

It wasn’t long before Violet began to squirm. She pressed one hand against the headboard, arching her back and driving her hips down into the mattress. You knew her and her body fluently, and while you could have stayed right there forever, you recognized the quiet desperation for more. With one more tender kiss, you sat up on your knees, slipping her nightdress down the rest of her body, slowly revealing her deliciously soft belly. Your hands skimmed down her sides and over the flare of her hips, the fabric bunching around them until she lifted them away from the mattress. You shimmied the garment further down, grazing the sensitive skin of her thighs as you tugged it off. For a moment, you sat admiring her. It didn’t matter how many times you saw her body in the flesh, nor the number of ways time had managed to carve itself into new details. Every time, you found yourself in awe. Your fingers brushed along her stomach. There were freckles here, too. Dark against the palest parts of her, they were larger and spread apart, but just as beautiful. You touched them as you went—beneath her breast, near her navel, atop her hip. You bit your lip as you admired them.  

“If you are going to continue to stare, you could at least afford me the same view.” She tugged at your nightdress. “Remove this. I want to see you.”

The command sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Yes, my love.” You did as you were told, gathering the skirt in your hands and pulling it off over your head, tossing it to the floor beside hers. “Better?” you asked, sitting back, allowing her the view she so desired. Her eyes swept over your body, the intensity of the lust in her eyes making your breath catch.

“Perfect.” Pushing herself up onto her elbow, she slid her hand up the length of your arm and to your neck. She urged you closer, kissing you deeply, pouring her love directly into you. 

Her hand wandered, finding all the most sensitive spots she knew would drive you mad. She ghosted a finger along the edge of your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Her fingernails grazed over your pulse point, then continued down over your chest. She brushed her thumb over your nipple, teasing it as it hardened until you moaned into her mouth. The sound made her laugh against your lips; how easily she could turn you into a whimpering puddle. Satisfied, her hand continued down and around to the small of your back, pressing your hips down as she laid back, pulling you along with her, your kiss unbroken. 

You drank in every taste of her, every breath, because there would never be enough to fill your desire for her. She delighted in the familiar weight of your body, and the warmth of your skin against hers as she got lost in your embrace. She was gasping between kisses, little whimpers catching in her throat at every touch. You reached down to the outside of her thigh, your fingers pressing firmly into her petal-soft skin as you bent her knee so it was up against your hip. When Violet felt you against the apex of her legs, a wave of pulsing heat burned through her body. She thrusted her hips forward, trying to make more contact, but it wasn’t enough.

“Touch me,” she panted, your lips just a breath apart. 

Desire pooled in the pit of your stomach. There was nothing else you wanted to do more. You shifted so that you were draped over only half of her, hooking your leg over hers and drawing it towards you so she was open for you. She watched, her eyes darkening as you slid two of your fingers into your mouth, thoroughly wetting them in order to assist with the inconsistency she had experienced in the year since her courses had stopped. When you pressed them down into her folds and found her already slicker than usual, a wicked grin curled your lips. 

“Oh my,” you muttered against her ear, making her skin tingle. “Someone is certainly ready this morning.”

Your name slipped from her lips, her voice shaking, “Please.”

“Is there enough?” you asked. 

“Yes.” She blinked quickly, then added, “I think so.” 

“Do you want it?”

“Yes.” She was breathless with want. 

You kissed her parted lips, then whispered against them, “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

She was nodding when you pulled back so you could see her face. You entered her gently, as you always did now, watching for any sign of discomfort. There was no resistance, and Violet let out a shuddering sigh, eyes closing as her head pushed back into the pillow. 

You worked her slowly, paying careful attention to everything—her face, the sounds she made, the ease with which your fingers moved inside her—diligent in ensuring every moment was one of pleasure. When you thought perhaps there was more friction than there should have been, you removed your fingers, causing Violet to whine in displeasure.

“It is only for a moment, sweetheart,” you assured her. She watched with bated breath as you took your fingers back into your mouth. The taste of her musky sweetness caused a tightening in your own core and your mouth to water, which aided in your effort. A quiet moan escaped as she watched you lick your lips. A louder moan followed when you pressed your fingers into her again. Her eyes rolled closed as you returned to your former pace, confident now that you would not hurt her. She clung to you, her fingers gripping your shoulders and your back, nails digging into your scalp, anywhere she could hold because you were the only thing anchoring her to Earth.

Sensing she was close but not quite able to make it over that edge, you pressed the heel of your hand against her most sensitive spot, eliciting a primal sound from deep in her chest while she rocked down to get more pressure. As her hips moved against your hand, you followed her pace, watching the tension build in her body until she could no longer hold on, finally crashing over the crest, straight into heaven.

You let her come down slowly, remaining inside her while her inner muscles grew still and her body relaxed into the mattress. The freckles on her chest and face now laid on a bed of pink and you couldn’t help but kiss a few of them. Violet’s eyes fluttered open and she placed her hand beneath your chin, drawing your face up to hers and kissing you with a satiated hum. 

“Come here,” she urged, touching your leg that was still wrapped around hers. You withdrew from inside her, taking her offered hand so you could reposition yourself over her, straddling her hips. You fingers laced with hers while you leaned on your other arm, hovering over her face. Violet captured your lips again, at the same time as her hand burned its way down the length of your body. She knew you well enough to know you would be so primed that delaying any longer would be torturous. But while you had taken her to heaven, she had decided to dance with the devil because instead of touching you where you so desperately needed, she grazed the backs of her fingernails from your navel to the edge of your curls. She continued, reaching between your bodies to take hold of the supple flesh of your inner thigh. It was one of her most favorite spots. She raked her fingers up, closer and closer while your muscles twitched beneath her fingers, and you sucked in a sharp breath between your teeth. 

“Violet,” you growled, dropping your head down to her shoulder when she cradled her hand against you, just close enough for you to sense it there, but not enough to feel it. 

“Oh, very well,” she chuckled, as if she were not holding your very sanity in her hand. She pressed her hand to your soaking curls, making you arch harder against her. Pulling three fingers through your dripping heat, she drew it up with her fingertips as they found the place that you ached for her to touch most. She moved her fingers in slow circles, each pass making your body jolt, forcing a shuddering sigh from your throat that spilled onto her shoulder over and over. 

She kissed the top of your shoulder, her lips and tongue mapping their way to your neck. Your body began to shake, your grip on her hand tightening. She quickened the pace of her circling, adding pressure until your body curled around her, caught in a vise of pleasure that radiated out to every nerve in your body. 

You collapsed down onto her, your breathing labored, your mind blank. She dislodged her arm from between you and wrapped it around your back, bringing your clasped hands to her lips to press kisses along the tops of your entwined fingers. 

Both of you were already spent and the sun had not even finished rising, so instead of facing the day and preparing yourselves for breakfast, you burrowed back underneath the blankets. Wrapped in each other's arms, you spent the morning counting freckles and tracing smile lines, laughing and dozing, surrounded by love and the gentle sound of rain. 

[lucid-heart]

Out of Sight

Violet Bridgerton X Fem!Reader 🔞

💜 As one of her handmaids, you've always had a soft spot for Lady Bridgerton. It isn't until one day that she calls for you to stay back to you realise that these feelings are requited. 💜

WC: 1.5k+ words

masterlist • read on ao3 • request

A/N: I feed myself 🫡 this is the first work on this blog so I hope y'all enjoy! Nothing particularly explicit yet but I'm sure we'll get there 😄

Violet Bridgerton is most beautiful woman you've ever lain eyes upon. The thought crosses your mind every morning as you wake and assist the lady of the house. You can't help but steal glances as you lace up her corset or do her hair.

Sometimes she will catch your eye in the mirror and her smile makes your heart skip a beat.

She's wonderful and gorgeous and ever so kind.

Today, however, feels a little different. The air is warm and Violet is agitated. She won't stay still. Your fingers brush the back of her neck and she flinches as if scorched by blazing coals. You try to apologise but she's already moving away, turning towards the open window, half dressed.

"Leave me," she says briskly.

And you, like the all the others, dip your head in respect and turn toward the door.

"Except (Y/N)." Her addition catches you by surprise. "You... stay."

You turn back around, quickly hiding your surprise at her singling you out. The other servants leave the room, a few with some odd side glances at you, and then the room is empty except the two of you. Silence echoes between you, broken only by the sound of her heavy breathing.

"Lady Bridgerton? Are you most alright?"

This isn't like her. Something is off, you can tell.

Violet doesn't say anything but continues to stare out the window. With the sunlight gracing her cheeks and a gentle breeze blowing her hair, she's a vision in the early morning. You swallow nervously.

"Come," Violet finally says, completely ignoring your concern. "Stand with me."

You obediently cross the room to stand beside your lady. You curiously peer out the window into the gardens of the Bridgerton household. It's a beautiful place, truly, positively glowing in the sun. But more specifically, your gaze falls upon an unsuspecting couple.

A maid and a footman, it looks like, walking through the foliage together. They're laughing, hand in hand. Stealing a moment alone.

"My lady...?" you glance towards her.

It isn't a question exactly but a prompt. She doesn't seem angery. And yet she burns next to you as if alight.

You can't quite read her expression but you can feel the tension starting to rise. You are several feet apart and yet it feels like you are inches apart. The air is warm and it isn't the morning sun.

When she finally turns to meet your gaze, your face is red hot.

"(Y/N)..." she says softly.

You love how she says your name with such a gentle, affectionate tone. She looks at you with burning eyes.

"Yes, my lady?" you breathe.

She looks back down at the couple and you watch as they steal a kiss under the shade of a tree. Quick, fleeting, and yet it feels like it lasts a lifetime. What is happening here? Why has she asked you stay and watch with her? You don't know but you don't want to break the moment.

"Come closer."

You can't deny her. You close the distance but yet it doesn't feel like enough. She says nothing until you stand side by side with her. A slight lean and your arms would brush. But that's a boundary you yourself cannot cross, no matter how much you want to. It wouldn't do to act so familiar with the lady of the house.

"Is it wrong?" Violet asks.

"Is what wrong, Lady Bridgerton?"

Violet gestures below to where the couple have disappeared together. You can only imagine what they're getting up to together, hidden in the garden, out of prying eyes. Stealing kisses where people cannot see, maybe more. You don't understand her question or what she wants you to say.

Or maybe you do, but you can't say it.

"It's been a while since Ed-Edmund..." Her eyes close when she says his name. "And at first, I... I never believed I would desire another as I did him."

Oh.

Anything you want or could say catches in your throat as you peek a look at her. To your utter surprise, she's staring right at you. You turn away from the window and in towards her, face burning.

"Never would I have thought myself familiar enough to find those feelings again. I thought it died with him," she continues. "What man would be close enough to the widow of a household to create such desire within me?"

She's standing unbearably close to you. And she shifts forward, this time intentionally entering your space. The windowsill presses against your back but you can only feel her. She isn't touching you yet but you can feel her presence as if she's right against you. Warmth bursts in your chest and spreads through your entire body. It would be so easy to extend a hand and close the gap.

But it isn't your move to make.

She looks at you with dark eyes and parted lips.

"A man... no, not quite." It isn't quite directed at you but more at herself as if she's trying to understand it. "But... someone who spends every waking moment with you, who takes care of you, who understands and looks when she thinks I do not see."

"My lady-" Your head is spinning. "I-I... I hope I did not offend. I swear, I... You are so beautiful. I only look... because I cannot look away."

And she smiles.

"Oh, (Y/N). Please..."

You watch as she raises her hand and as if in slow motion, she touches your cheek. She has the soft hands of a noble with gentle fingertips and a warm palm. She brushes your cheek.

"I see you looking," she murmurs. "because I am looking back."

When she leans in, you don't stop her because you don't want to stop her. She catches your mouth with her own in a heated kiss and everything shatters around you. She breathes you in like fresh air. And you cannot help yourself.

With the physical barrier broken between you, you take the front of her dress and pull her against you. You collide in a kiss of pure want, burning and hot, soft lips giving way to a slip of tongue, hands finding their way into your hair. She kisses you like a woman parched.

"The window," you gasp against her lips, and she understands what you mean.

You two cannot be seen like this together, regardless of the desires of the lady of the house. So she catches your wrist and tugs you back into the room, managing not to break the kiss. You stumble together back out of the sunlight and into the shelter of her room. Hands tug at your waist. Guide you back. Until her bed is beside you.

Do you understand what is happening? Not exactly but you can't stop.

You kiss and kiss her until the air has been stolen from your lungs. Kissing Violet Bridgerton is a dream come reality and it is dizzying.

You two fall onto the bed in each other's arms and the sheets are a soft cushion underneath. When you finally pull away for air, she lies underneath you, panting.

"My lady... I..."

"Violet. When we are alone," she breathes.

"Violet..." Such familiarity, it's scandalous. Saying her name makes your heart skip a beat because it tells you exactly what she wants.

You kiss her neck, the underside of her jaw, along her exposed collarbone. You breathe in her scent, taste her skin, and it only leaves you wanting more.

Your hands touch her lightly and you lean back. "La- Violet. May I?"

She nods breathlessly.

You have dressed her many mornings and undressed her those nights. It's only too easy for you to help her out of the fancy clothes of nobles. You have seen her in states of undress countless times but this time is vividly different. She lies sprawled between pillows for you and you alone. No one else but her late husband will have seen her like this but you. That idea is dizzying. But viciously hot.

She helps you out of your simpler clothes and then her hands are on you. Shy touches over your bare arms, up your back, as if she doesn't dare to touch you anywhere else. Or she doesn't know how.

Despite the desire painted all over her face, she hesitates still. And you know you'll have to be the one to move forward.

"Violet," you murmurs. "It's alright, you can touch me..."

You bring her hand to your chest and she gasps. The way she blushes is beautiful. But with your encouragement, she touches you with more confidence. Her eyes brighten when you moan. You dip down and kiss her again.

It's slow and exploratory, the two of you taking the time to become acquainted with each other's bodies. You find she's sensitive and shy with making noise. It just makes her moaning even better. She likes when you let your nails lightly scrape against her scalp, press into her back, the very feeling of being touched and desired.

She like when you say her name into her ear, be it a needy whisper or a seductive murmur. It would be rare for a lady for the ton to be called by her given name, after all. But you say it over and over in breathless want.

Surely the rest of the household must be wondering where Lady Bridgerton is; it isn't like her rise late. But the two of you could hardly care, not as you're lost in each other.

[anastasiareadsnwrites]

Navigation: Below are a sorted of names that you will be able to choose from and links ( Ex. Part 1 but underlined) beside them will take you to stories that are already written. IF you do not see someone that you want to request please still request it and I'll add the name to the Masterlist.

Authors Note: You request and I'll write it up for you. If you do NOT like how I written or there was details missing. Just DM and I'll solve it by either editing the current story or by writing a whole new one. My requests are OPEN♡ = NSFW content

The MAIN Masterlist

Violet Bridgerton

Good Old Fashioned Lover girl (Violet Bridgerton x Fem! Reader): Part I

Anthony Bridgerton

Baby Hotline (Anthony Bridgerton x Fem! Reader): Part I

No one does it like Ant (Anthony Bridgerton x Male! Reader): Part I

Be Wherever You Are (Anthony Bridgerton x Male! Reader)♡

Every Breath You Take (Anthony Bridgerton x Fem! Reader)♡

Benedict Bridgerton

Only way is up (Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader): Part 1

I Put A Spell On You (Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader)♡

Daphne Bridgerton/Basset

Colin Bridgerton

Eloise Bridgerton

Maneater (Eloise Bridgerton x Male! reader)♡

Portia Featherington

Fancy Cherries (Portia Featherington x Fem! Reader): Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV♡

Hey pretty, Mama (Portia Featherington x Fem! Reader): Part I, Part II

At Last♡ (Portia Featherington x Fem! Reader): Part I, Part II

Penelope Featherington/Bridgerton

Phillipa Featherington/Finch

Prudence Featherington/Dankworth

Agatha Danbury

Cressida Cowper

Mary Sharma

Kate Sharma/Bridgerton

Edwina Sharma

More to be added

[idontevenknowwhatt]

MAIN MASTERLIST

My masterlist for everyone I write for currently, there will be more added later on. Feel free to request anything, I hope you all enjoy :))

Law and Order: SVU

Olivia Benson

Amanda Rollins

Criminal Minds

Emily Prentiss

JJ

Penelope Garcia

Greys Anatomy

Addison Montgomery

Callie Torres

Arizona Robbins

Bridgerton

Anthony Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

Colin Bridgerton

Violet Bridgerton

Bridgerton Sister

Once Upon A Time

Regina Mills

Emma Swan

[weirdmorefics]

Hello! I would like to make a request, where the reader is a man and a brother of the Bridgertons, where he is the third brother.

Where reader looks a lot like his father, physically as in the way he acts, the reader likes to study and has left London to continue studying, then he returns to his family for a break for a while but he begins to live his own love story, and where Violet is identified with the reader and the girl, and the brothers get emotional, frustrated and sad because they feel that they will los.

Then the reader suffers from an allergy from the bee sting which causes despair of his family, and the reader's girlfriend or wife feels desperate and together with violet they have a moment to talk and realizes that it is the right one for his son, since he refused to have his son marry her, since he did not want to lose him.

I look forward to your reply :) and thank you for your time and beautiful writing.

All Grown Up

A/N- Thank you for the compliment it means a lot to me :) Also Violet totally sounds like Emily Gilmore from Gilmore Girls in this LOL

Warnings- Allergies, Hives, and Wheezing

Pronouns- He/Him

Word Count- 575

Summary- Your Mother disapproves of your fiancé and forbids you to marry. Until she understands how much your fiancé loves you due to your near-death experience.

I nervously knock at the door and assure my fiance that this visit will be fine. I think we both know I was lying though. We have been avoiding my family ever since I wrote to my Mother that I met someone in the states and was going to marry. She has never said such cruel words to me before her letter was ruthless. She was very disappointed that I would not be participating in the season. She always thought I would marry the diamond and live right in town near her. One of the maids opened the door and my Mother ran straight to me and squeezed me so hard I couldn’t breathe.

“My baby I’ve missed you so much!” She smiled until she turned and saw my fiance. “I thought you weren’t going to bring her,” she said disappointed.

I shrug her off “I never said that.”

“It’s fine. It’s fine. Let's just go meet up outside with your siblings they missed you a lot but not as much as me.” She smiles and leads me outside where there are refreshments.

Daphne runs up to me as soon as she sees me and gives me a giant hug. Eloise acts like she doesn’t miss me but I know she does. Anthony lectures me about not writing home more, Benedict shows me his recent artworks, and Colin wants to hear about my travels and what I am learning in my studies.

I catch up with my siblings and introduce them to my fiance. I avoid my Mother as much as I can but she makes it very difficult with how many death glares she is sending to my fiance. The socializing suddenly holts to an awkward silence and I am not sure why until I follow their gaze.

There is a huge bee on my arm and I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me due to the fear. 

“Don’t move,” Anthony says trying to be calm.

I end up shaking due to my nerves and the bee stings me. Hives immediately appear all around the sting and they feel like they are on fire. I suddenly feel tired and the world is spinning; before I know it I am on the ground. I faintly hear Mother yell for someone to call a doctor before I closed my eyes.

Violet’s POV-

“He will be fine he had a reaction to the bee sting but it was not as bad as it could have been.” The doctor said calmly.

Y/N’s fiance interrupts the doctor “HOW DARE YOU SAY IT WAS A MINOR REACTION HE PASSED OUT! WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE THIS WAS NOTHING”

They screamed with tears coming down their face. They were definitely panicking and I could see they loved Y/N just as much as I do. 

I hugged them and rubbed their back and repeated “Y/N is okay.”  

“I thought you hated me” they responded.

“I am so sorry about that I see now that you love Y/N just as much as I do. You better take care of him though.” I apologize.

“Of course, I will take care of him! I will take care of him as long as we are alive.” They smile with tears still pricking their eyes and I return their smile.

My baby is all grown up and I am so glad he found someone to love him just as much as I do.

Support Me Here

[allthornsnopetals]

Fire on Fire E.Bridgerton

With this much desire, together we're winners They say were out of control, and some say we're sinners But don't let them ruin our beautiful rhythms

A/n: This was requested from an anon, long ago. Sorry for the wait.

Warning: Lady Violet x OC mother of reader (their gay, for each other), not proof-read

This is wrong, all of this is wrong!

Y/n's thoughts roar, her eyes glued to the ceiling, bare in the sheets of the woman she loves most: Eloise Bridgerton. Another day, another night. Her heart ached for her, her air being her, whom she should not have.

This is wrong!

Eloise had her heart long before she even knew it, before her first kiss with a noblemen's son, out of curiosity. It were as if, it were made for her, made for a woman and not a man. Y/n stiffs a sob, clasping a hand over her lips, as to not wake Eloise. This was wrong and she knew it. If she were to live like this, she would bring great shame to her family. But if she did not, her heart would be in great pain.

But she had made up her mind. She would wed and bring great pride to her dynasty.

"I am so sorry, Ellie." Said Y/n, trailing from her sheets, dressing herself and departing without a final goodbye or kiss to her beloved's head.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"Mama, did Y/n decide to have breakfast with her own family, this morning?" Eloise asks, entering the drawing room.

Violet draws her attention to her daughter, thinking and forgetting her tea. "No, my dear. She had left during the night. She seemed rather upset... Eloise, did you do something to upset miss Y/n?" Her eyes hardens with her lips drawn into a thin line, interrogating her daughter.

Eloise huffs exasperatedly, slumping on the couch opposite her. "No, mama, I have done nothing to upset her." She says, opening her book and beginning the first page with her mind occupied with her love, hoping she had not done anything to upset her.

Her mother, cocks a brow, skeptical like always, but letting her curiosity lay to rest. "It is to be calling hour in just a few moments, eat and do try. I want you to try." Violet ignores Eloise's groan of annoyance, returning to her tea and breakfast.

"If Y/n can stand calling hour, than so can you."

I already have someone to call on to, and it is not a Lord or noble.

Eloise thinks, allowing herself to smile, missing the scent of her better half. Once calling hour is over, she is to pay her a visit and perhaps visit the library and enjoy a picnic in the park. Her love is never bored of food or books, she is rather the eater and could never stop herself from indulging in what she fancies. Eloise had learned the hard way, many times.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"Miss Eloise, what brings you here at such a time?" Said Maria, Y/n's mother: Lady Clearwater.

Usually a footman answers the door or even Y/n, but something important must be taking place for the lady of the house to be answering her own door. Eloise tilts her head, her brows drawn in confusion. "Lady Clearwater, I am here to spend my afternoon with Miss Y/n. Is she in?" She asks, trying to peek through the rather small opening.

Maria cages the door to her body, closing any opportunity for her to peek. "I am afraid to inform you that, Y/n cannot join you at the moment. She is sitting with a Suitor, something that you are unfamiliar with." Her tone was bitter and sour, like always. But it was always sweet for her daughter, and not for Elosie, someone she loathes.

Eloise knew it but she did not care much, after all her daughter loves her and she loves her daughter. "But calling hour is but over, Lady Clearwater." Said Eloise, sounding confused and lost.

Why, would Y/n be sitting with Suitors. She never sits with them, never.

"Well, she had many calls today. Y/n is simply unable to join you, perhaps your plump friend, Miss Penelope can accompany you today. And not my daughter, whom I have informed you to stay clear from, many times before. Now, never darken my door step with your stubborn presence again." She slams the door in her face, leaving Eloise stunned and confused. Had she done something to upset her beloved, Y/n?

No, matter. She will unmask the true intentions, regardless of the events in front and ahead. She will make things right.

Or, so she thought.

Eloise has sent letter, after letter. In each letter, she wrote of apologies, love and the longing her heart yearns for with the absence of her Y/n. At this point she is breaking, missing the girl who smelt of raspberries and limes. Who saturated her days and nights. Her dreams, stained with her face, with her love.

What did I do wrong? Did I finally say something, I should have kept to myself?

Does she not love me?

Eloise wept into her hands, hunched over her desk, staining her gloves with tears.

"Eloise are you read-." Violet pauses at the door, gasping and gliding to her daughter's side. "My darling, girl, what is the matter?" She embraces her, guiding her out of her chair and to her bed.

Eloise shook her head, seeking comfort in her mother's chest. "It seems I have upset Y/n. She hasn't spoken to me since late last week." She hiccups, rendering her voice weak and frail. "I went to visit her during and after calling hour, but her mama, a terrible woman, refuses to let me see her." Violet's nose screws up at the thought of Y/n's mother, who was in fact a nasty woman and close friends with Lady Cowper—both nasty and cruel.

She rubs comforting circles on her back, trying to sooth her. "I miss her, mama. I want her near, not far. I want her as one needs air... I want her back." Eloise sniffles, suffocating in her mother's bosom.

"She will come back to you and do not worry about her horrid mother, I will settle her dismay." Violet reassures her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n danced with yet another Suitor, feeling rather sick of this and the stench of his man stink. He smelt unpleasant and musky, something she was not used to. She was used to the scent of lavender and tulips, which reminded her of Eloise, who watched on the side lines, itching for an opportunity to speak with her. Y/n noticed, so she dragged out the dance, making a show of false intentions, waiting for someone to steal Eloise away or waddle off in search of Penelope.

She did not want to see or speak to her. She wanted her to be less stubborn, leave her be and see what she is clearly doing.

"Lady Clearwater." Said Violet, watching Y/n dance while her daughter stood watching, clearly yearning for a moment with her. "Oh, Lady Bridgertion, how are you on this fine evening?" She returns her greetings with a ruse of a smile, offering her a slight bow.

"Good, but it seems my Eloise is having a rather poor time at the moment." She watches Lady Clearwater and her smirk, clearly caring very little. "Well, that is to be expected without a Suitor or company. Is she to be called on soon or-."

"Don't disrespect my daughter. You and your nasty comments can be kept to yourself and your nasty crony friends. You have no right to speak about my daughter behind her back or make her feel less then. She has every right to see her friend, for they have been glued to the hip before Edmund's passing." Violet takes a breather, pointing her finger in her face, making sure her voice is low enough for only them to hear.

"Your daughter has saved my Eloise. Saved her from herself, from her anger, from her distaste for society and especially her bad luck with her debut. And as for your daughter, you do not deserve her. You don't deserve her kindness or her intellect. She is my girl's sun and she is her moon. They will not part, simply because you do not-."

Maria grabs Violet, dragging her to an empty room, making sure they were not spotted or followed. She pushes her in, shutting the door behind her. "How dare you, pull me along without my con-."

"Be quiet, Violet!" Said Maria, hushing the other woman.

Maria breathes through her nose, calming herself. "Your daughter and my daughter are... They are..." She stutters, finding it difficult to manage the right words.

"They are what?" Violet says, clearly impatient, growing tired of her used to be a friend's antics.

"They are going through what we went through." Violet's brows knit together, trying to understand what Maria is implying. Maria huffs in annoyance, irritated by her slow brain. "Our daughters are seeing each other behind our backs, as we did before our husbands." Maria finally explains, waiting for Violet to finally understand.

Violet's mouth falls open with her eyes blown in understanding and shock. "They are romantically involved with each other?" Said Violet, pacing the room, consumed in thought and worry.

Maria taps her foot, impatient and irradiated. "You did not see it?" Maria cocks a brow, still so arrogant and short-tempered as she was when she were but a young lady without title. Violet glares at her, stocking towards her with hell in her eyes. "You did not inform me!" She points her finger accusingly to her.

Maria scoffs. "You did not speak to me after my marriage to Lord Clearwater. Please enlighten me with an explanation of how I was to inform you."

Violet deflates, recalling her past and her decision to ignore and vow to never speak to Maria again. "Right." Said Violet, backing away and fiddling with her fingers, embarrassed and feeling rather foolish.

"They gaze, only at each other... As if it were only them. My Y/n, seeks your Eloise, as if she were the moon and the stars." Maria chuckles faintly, staring at her feet with a small smile. "I am beginning to think, that queer traits are genetics." The ladies make eye-contact, acknowledging the other for the first time in many years.

Silence fell, like sheets cascading over a mattress. They both wet their lips, a shared trait of awkwardness and loss of words. It was as it should be for the ladies of separate dynasties. One found a love match after the shatter of her lover's heart, while the other found a political match, that had its romance in its own way.

They were both aware of the cracks, scars and bruises their love had left. The rumors, the dent their families received and the long lasting yearning for the company- the love, that only they found with each other.

"It was, rather painful, Mia. Having you marry another, while I watched... It left a mark, that not even Edmund could wipe away." Violet muttered, her lip beginning to quiver. "I had wished it were a bad dream or a mistake when I heard you were with child. I wanted to believe that you'll come back. Come back to me and tell me it were all but a cruel joke, a prank, perhaps a misunderstanding." Violet croaked, straying her gaze to the floor.

Maria cups her cheeks, wiping away her tears with the pads of her thumbs, shushing her. "I am truly sorry for the hell I dragged you through, but Vi you knew the cost, th-"

Violet silenced her with a kiss, dragging her close by the waist, wanting her to shut up and fill the void Maria had left. Maria pulls back enough for air. "Vi, what on earth are-." Violet backs them both into the wall, finding her lips again, and only parting to speak.

"We can't do this to our girls. What we had, left a wound on my heart. I don't have the strength to put my daughter through the exact pain I went through, and I am sure you can't do such a thing to your darling daughter, can you Mia?" Violet pants, gazing at her lips, silently begging her to reconsider her thoughts.

At the sight of her old love, her heart wallowed. How could she have let her slip through her fingers? How could her heart move so quickly and swiftly? Has it always been for her? She shook her head, pecking Violet on the lips, testing the waters, and feeling the sparks she had assumed belonged to another, calling for a show of fireworks and dazzling colors.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Maria took her daughter's arm, dragging her to the nearest exit. "Rest, stroll, take this time to breathe and enjoy the cool of the evening." She lures, ushering her to walk the gardens. "But mama, I am to fill my dance card, sir phi-."

Maria raised her head, hushing Y/n as she spots Violet prompting her daughter to do the same. "Nonsense, this night has been quite filling. Now go, enjoy some peace alone." She grinned, swatting at her to leave.

Y/n allowed her shoulders to relax, weakening her posture with a thankful smile. "Thank you mama, I will return before the night is to end." She props a kiss to her cheek before waddling off.

She strolls mindlessly, before coming to a stop at the lake side, observing it and its endless solitude. Her mind has been in shambles and glass, since her departure from the Bridgerton house. She missed her lady of lavender and tulips. She misses the way her skin felt against her own, the sound of her laugh, and the intricate works of her mind. She wanted her girl back. She wanted to be near her, that is, if it so weren't wrong.

She needed to clear her mind. Needed her heart to stop pulling, stop squeezing the life from her being when Eloise polluted her mind. She wanted everything to stop, to pause and give her peace.

Y/n coughed, using the pebble path as a place of rest, sitting and cradling her legs to her chest. She released a tired sob with her head deep in her knees.

Go, away Eloise! Leave my mind and let me rest!

But Eloise did not want to. Her steps quicken at the sight of Y/n, running to her, wanting to be near her. "Y/n, what is the matter?" She slid beside her, and without thought, pulled her into her arms.

Once she realized who it was, Y/n was pulling away, shoving Eloise away. "You are what is the matter. You cannot leave me be!" Said Y/n scooting away, and finding her feet.

Hurt crossed Eloise's face, feeling as if she was stabbed or shot by the one she loves. "I do not know of what you speak? Am I the matter? I do not understand... Have I done something to offend you, or hurt you?" Her usual confidence and stature has gone, stripped from her within just a moment.

At the sight of light losing its life in her sapphire eyes, Y/n's heart winched, with her throat running dry. She wanted to avoid this. Avoid the pain of ripping off the band aid, the prick of thread and needle, stitching a wound or the pour of alcohol on an open gash. It felt like lava, washing over her, like rain, drenching her and even drowning her. It gave something in her, something rather sore, perhaps raw.

"Do not speak to me Eloise. You are the problem." Y/n swallows dryly, walking backwards. "If we are seen here alone, we are to be dragged through the mud, the dirt, the very gutters of lower London!" She inhaled harshly, glaring pained daggers at the woman she loves, and pausing in her steps.

"They speak and you ignore their whispers... Their nasty comments. Do you know of the tons thoughts. How they believe us as sinners. Women bedding the devil!" She exclaims, fiddling with her gloves.

Eloise rolls her eyes, amusing herself with an empty laugh. "I do not care for what the ton has to say. These men and women are just-."

"But I do! I care!" She drives forward, pointing her finger at Eloise. "But you do not! You skip around with your skirts above your ankles, living a life of sparkles and ponies." She spat, shoving her finger into Eloise's chest, accusingly. "You care very little about others, and that is what the problem is." She scoffed, backing away, shocked and irritated.

"I care very little? You left my letters unread and unanswered. You left me alone, hurt and you hurt me more, now! You stabbed me! Marked me!" Said Eloise, grabbing hold of Y/n's hand and holding it against her chest.

"You branded my heart. You, Y/n Clearwater strangle my heart and make it bleed. You feed it blood cells and provide it with chambers to feed the body. You have something, that I cannot afford to give away, simply because of silly gossip. And I will not let you walk away with it." She pleaded with her, begged her with nothing but desperation in her words and eyes.

"Do not let me bleed."

But Y/n was not her mother. She will not be so easily swayed, not like this. "Lord Philips has asked for my hand and I have accepted." Said Y/n, drawing back her hand, walking back to the ball.

"But do you love him!" Eloise yells, following Y/n and yanking her back. Y/n frees herself with Eloise quickly snatching her by her forearms, forcing her in place.

"Do you love him. Say it and I'll leave you alone."

"And what if I said, I did not? What would you do then? Cage me? Keep me hostage?"

Eloise, now grinned. "Perhaps I should cage you, like a song bird. Keeping you from society, forcing you to stay with me." She jokes, drawing her closer until her arms were encased around her shoulders, trapping her in, keeping her from running away, basically hugging her. Y/n laughs, finding her lips curling into a smile of her own.

Eloise always had a way to make her laugh or feel anything but anger or sadness in heated situations like this. They could argue for five to ten minutes until Eloise said something witty, clever or comical. Eloise would never end an argument with tears or brewing anger. She is too hopelessly in love for that to happen.

"I do not sing." She perched herself on Eloise's shoulder, gazing at her with an easier tone and lacy smile. She laughed, cupping Y/n's cheek, rolling her thumb over the smooth skin. "Perhaps not very well. But that can be fixed with the candles turned down and an empty house." Eloise winks suggestively, rewarding her with a pinch to the side. "Dirty Bridgerton." Y/n pokes, soothing the spot with the pad of thumb.

The pair relish in the solace of the arms of their lovers, relieved to have the other back in their respective positions. "My love, don't let the whispers of the ton ruin us. They know nothing, of our love. Nothing about what it means to yearn for someone, quite like we do." Eloise pressed her forehead against hers, content on keeping her near.

She drew her voice to a whisper. "Do you love me, miss Clearwater?" She finally asked, waiting with steeled breath.

"Yes, stubborn Bridgerton, I do love you. How can I not when you make me a fool for thinking to wed another."

[tulipatheticee]

never grow up

violet bridgerton x youngest! daughter

bridgerton siblings x younger! sibling

pt1 dont need to read pt1 to read this but it'll give you background understanding

synopsis; Through scenes of Isadora's first moments—her siblings meeting her for the first time, her first word, first steps, and precious family outings—their unbreakable bond deepens. In the bustling life of Mayfair, Isadora remains Violet’s constant companion, offering comfort and unwavering support at her mother's side, embodying the enduring love that holds their family together.

word count; 1k

master list

a/n; thank you so much @kitkat27 for this idea, i had a lot of fun writing this!

once again, kinda proof read, kinda not

Your little hand's wrapped around my finger

And it's so quiet in the world tonight

Your little eyelids flutter 'cause you're dreamin'

So I tuck you in, turn on your favorite night light

In the dimly lit room of Bridgerton House, Violet held her newborn daughter for the first time. Isadora's tiny fingers curled around her mother's, and Violet felt an overwhelming rush of love and relief. Her heart ached with the absence of Edmund, but in Isadora's delicate features, she saw hope and a future.

The Bridgerton children quietly entered the room, their eyes wide with wonder as they approached their mother and the new addition to the family.

"She's so tiny," whispered Daphne, leaning in to get a closer look.

"Can I hold her?" asked Anthony, his voice soft yet protective.

Violet smiled, tears in her eyes. "Of course, Anthony. Just be gentle."

As Anthony cradled Isadora in his arms, the rest of the siblings gathered around, each taking a turn to hold their baby sister, their faces filled with awe and love.

To you, everything's funny, You got nothing to regret

I'd give all I have honey, If you could stay like that

At the age of 10 months, Isadora's first word filled the Bridgerton household with joy. Violet was in the drawing room, playing with Isadora on a plush rug, surrounded by her older siblings.

"Mama," Isadora said, her voice a soft, sweet sound that made Violet's heart soar.

"Oh, Isa! You said 'Mama'! You are so clever!" Violet exclaimed, gathering her daughter into her arms and peppering her face with kisses.

Eloise clapped her hands in delight. "Clearly she’s taking after me"

Colin laughed, ruffling Isadora's hair. "You think quite highly of yourself"

Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up

Don't you ever grow up

Just stay this little

Isadora's first steps were a family affair. At one year old, she stood unsteadily in the middle of the nursery, her siblings forming a supportive circle around her. Violet knelt a few feet away, her arms open wide.

"Come to Mama, Isa," Violet encouraged, her voice filled with warmth.

With a determined look on her face, Isadora took a tentative step forward, then another, and another, until she tumbled into Violet's waiting arms.

"You did it, my darling!" Violet cheered, hugging Isadora tightly.

Hyacinth danced around them, her excitement palpable. "Isa walked! Isa walked!"

Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up

Don't you ever grow up

It could stay this simple

When Isadora was three, the Bridgerton family prepared for an outing to the park. Violet, with Isadora’s small hand firmly clasped in hers, led the way. Isadora, at three years old, was a petite figure with wide, curious eyes that took in the world with a gentle wonder.

The Bridgerton children followed, a lively group that drew admiring glances from passersby. Each sibling had their own distinct personality, but they all shared a fierce protectiveness over their youngest sister.

“Look, Mama!” Hyacinth exclaimed, pointing to a beautiful flower bed bursting with vibrant blooms. “Aren’t they lovely?”

Violet smiled. “They are, indeed. Spring is such a wonderful time to be in the park.”

The children eagerly ran ahead to explore, their laughter echoing through the air. Isadora stayed close to Violet, her little hand never leaving her mother’s.

As they walked, Violet pointed out various sights to her youngest daughter. “See those tall trees, Isa? They’ve been here for many, many years.”

Isadora nodded, her eyes wide with interest. “They’re very tall, Mama.”

“They are,” Violet agreed. “Just like your brothers and sisters. But you’ll grow tall and strong too, my love.”

They reached a large, open grassy area where the older children had already begun a game. Isadora watched them with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“Would you like to play with them, Isa?” Violet asked, gently encouraging her.

Isadora hesitated, then shook her head. “I like being with you, Mama.”

Violet knelt down and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “And I like having you with me, my sweet girl. But it’s also fun to run and play with your brothers and sisters. Would you like to try? I’ll be right here.”

Isadora looked at her siblings, who were having so much fun, and finally nodded. “Okay, Mama.”

Violet called out to the others. “Gregory, Hyacinth, can you include Isadora in your game?”

Benedict, with his infectious energy, bounded over and scooped Isadora up, twirling her around. “Come on, Isa! Join us!”

Hyacinth joined in, her laughter ringing out. “We’ll be gentle, Isa. It’s lots of fun!”

I won't let nobody hurt you

Won't let no one break your heart

Isadora giggled as Gregory set her down, and soon she was running alongside her siblings, her earlier hesitation forgotten. She might not have been as quick or agile as the others, but their encouragement and patience made her feel included and loved.

Violet watched with a contented smile, her heart full as she saw Isadora’s face light up with joy. Despite the sorrow and challenges they had faced, moments like this reminded her of the strength and love that bound the Bridgerton family together.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the park, the family gathered their belongings and made their way back home. Isadora, tired from the day's excitement, was carried by Anthony, her head resting against his shoulder.

Violet walked beside them, her heart full. Despite the trials they had faced, days like this reminded her of the strength and love that bound them together. With Isadora’s quiet presence always near, Violet felt a sense of peace and gratitude that carried her through each day.

And no one will desert you

Just try to never grow up

At four, Isadora was ready for her first schooling lessons. Her mother with her to support her on this significant day. Violet, holding Isadora’s hand, walked her to the schoolroom where her governess awaited.

“You’ll do wonderfully, Isa,” Violet assured her, smoothing a stray curl.

Isadora looked up with wide eyes. “Will you stay with me, Mama?”

Violet smiled and knelt down to her level. “I’ll be right outside, my love. You’re going to learn so many exciting things.”

Gregory and Hyacinth peeked in, waving enthusiastically. “Good luck, Isa!” they chorused.

Never grow up

a/n pt2; GOD am i loving these isadora fic's so much, to those who sent requests just know they are all WIP right now and i will get them out for you as soon as i can! to those that havent sent a request, why not!!! my ask box is always always always open!, do you think i should make a post regarding rules when requesting?

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 [𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — Violet Bridgerton x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Violet has a secret, but it will only stay that way if she can be quiet enough to keep it

WORD COUNT — 2.2K

WARNINGS — 18+ MDNI, oral sex (Violet recieving), pw/op (I mean there is kind of a plot, but it's so minimal)

NOTE — Okay this is just like a fully indulgent little snippet because let's be real who wouldn't want to be in a secret relationship with Violet. Special thanks to @sleepyfireball and @lifesizehysteria for both giving me the confidence to post this and helping me with the ending <3

Violet had never considered herself a woman of many secrets. Yes, there were some things in her life that remained private, but even then, they wouldn’t cause much of a fuss if they were brought to light. 

Recently, though, Violet had been keeping a secret. A big one. 

A secret, her only one that would surely scandalize the whole ton, but Violet, unlike her children, was a little more well versed in dealing with subtleties, with…avoiding scandal. 

“Mother?” 

She blinked away from her thoughts, seeing Benedict holding out his arm for her so she could exit the carriage. 

She gave him a small smile by way of apology and took his arm in hers, climbing out of the carriage and letting her second eldest son lead her into the home that this evening’s ball was being hosted in. 

As soon as they entered the large space, she didn’t even register going to find the host or taking in the decorations. Instead, she scanned the crowd until her eyes landed on a familiar pair. She bit back a smile noticing your discreet wave to her which she returned with a nod of her head. 

She saw you motion your head towards the refreshments table and she quickly let Benedict know she was going to get herself a lemonade and gracefully made her way around the room to the table where she could pour herself a glass. 

“Lady Bridgerton, interesting evening for a ball isn’t it?” 

Violet chewed the inside of her cheek.

“Yes, there is quite a storm outside,” she nodded as you came and stood next to her, pretending to be perusing the desserts. You leaned in to grab a macaron, but your mouth coming awfully close to her ear, her senses overwhelmed by your warm breath against her as your voice dropped to a whisper. 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks. I miss you.” 

She could feel a certain familiar warmth grow in her chest at your admission, still pretending to focus on the lemonade and not how much she wanted to pull you into her arms. 

“Did your carriage have much trouble in the rain?” she pulled back, continuing the cover conversation. 

“Thankfully no, but who knows what the night will bring,” you responded. 

Violet took a moment to appreciate your appearance. The way the jewels that dangled from your ears complimented your dress and shone against your skin. How odd it was that you chose not to wear a necklace, leaving the upper part of your chest bare. Violet supposed for most, attention would not be drawn to it due to the lack of jewels, but for her, your skin was much more precious. 

“We shall speak more later, yes?” you asked and Violet nodded her head. 

“Of course,” there was no question about it, but Violet wanted to do much more than speak and she gathered that you did too. 

You offered Violet a smile, your hand moving to touch her arm in a friendly manner, your touch lingering as you walked away leaving her to yearn for it as soon as it was gone. 

She tried to make friendly conversation with those around her, but her mind kept drifting off to your whispered words, your breath on her face. 

It didn’t help that whenever you walked by you’d find some excuse to touch her. A hand on her back to move her aside, a touch to her arm as you laughed at something she said while in conversation with others, the brush of your hands together as you passed her by. 

Eventually she could not take it any longer, or more, she didn’t want to. 

She sought you out where you stood alone in a quiet corner enjoying a glass of wine. 

“Took you long enough,” you murmured into your glass. 

“I don’t know what you expect me to do when you keep…touching me,” she whispered. “We are supposed to be discreet are we not?” 

“Forgive me, I was trying to get your attention,” you tried to bite back a chuckle, even though you knew Violet was not amused, but she wasn’t angry, no that wasn’t the right word. She had a fire in her eyes. Passion, desire…lust. 

“Well you have it,” she said. 

You pulled the wine glass away from your face, moving to walk past Violet as if you were leaving her, but going slow enough that you could whisper, 

“Hallway. Five minutes.” 

Violet felt a lump grow in her throat, but she continued to take her turn around the room, her eyes constantly drifting back to the clock until the long hand had moved enough to signal five minutes had passed. 

Discreetly she weaved her way through the crowd until she could slip out into the hallway. 

When she arrived, it was dark and she saw no sign of you. She thought perhaps you might have gone further so she walked down, scanning the doors on either side, going deeper and deeper into the home without much regard for politeness of where she should have been. 

Just as she was about to turn around and go back, she felt someone grab her wrist and pull her to the side and into a room. She almost let out a shriek of surprise, but before the sound could leave her mouth a hand covered it and she realized who it was that had pulled her away. 

“Discreet, Violet, remember?” you teased. 

“Oh hush, you scared me,” she removed your hand from her mouth, trying to get her beating heart to slow down. 

“Yes, well,” you leaned in closer, closing the door behind Violet. “Like I said…I missed you.” 

Your lips now ghosted the shell of her ear and Violet could feel her walls beginning to crumble. 

“Darling,” she warned. 

“Mmm I love it when you call me that,” your hands now rested against Violet’s hips, your lips lightly pressing against her jaw. 

“This doesn’t feel very discreet,” she managed to get out in a strangled breath. 

“We’re alone,” you kissed her jaw. “And there’s a ball, no one will notice we have slipped out. In fact, your children might even be thankful for a break from your hovering.” 

“Oh, now you’re just trying to get on my nerves,” Violet could feel herself roll her eyes, but was quickly diverted from her annoyance by the feeling of your teeth grazing along her pulse point. She could hear her own heartbeat pounding in her head and it became dizzying. “Goodness, would you stop teasing me?” 

“I thought you wanted to be discreet?” you pulled your head away, looking her into her eyes, a mischievous smile on your lips. “What you’re suggesting is hardly so.” 

Violet clenched her jaw, looking around the room and behind her at the door. 

“We’d have to be quick,” she said. “And quiet.” 

“How about I worry about the quick and you worry about the quiet?” you asked, leaning in so your mouths were centimeters apart. “You can repay the favour next time.” 

“Assuming there is a next time,” Violet mumbled. 

“We’re not going to get caught,” you assured her. “Now do you want this? Or should I just continue teasing you?” you asked as your hands trailed up her sides, coming to rest right underneath her breasts. 

“No,” Violet breathed. “I want this. I want you,” her head bobbed up and down in a nod. 

“Good,” you smiled, finally closing the minimal gap between you, pushing Violet into the door, her body hitting against it with a small thud. She could taste the faint remnants of lemonade and wine on your tongue and it only served to make you more addictive, encouraging her to hold both sides of your face, pulling you closer. 

The smell of your perfume was intoxicating, how it lingered in the air around her and with each breath how it felt like she was drinking you in, over and over again. 

The back of Violet’s head pressed against the door, her chin tilting upwards, an invitation perhaps for your lips to meet the skin of her neck, dragging along every freckle, connecting dots until you reached her collarbone, your grip becoming more firm around her hips. 

Her chest heaved with each touch, every kiss, the tightness of her corset creating the most deliciously dizzying experience as your kisses lined the top of her breasts, your nose trailing along in tandem. 

It made Violet whine when she felt the cold loss of contact of both your lips and your hands, but it quickly turned into a gasp as fingers lightly traced the length of her legs, the skirt of her dress and any other layers underneath being pushed up higher and higher. 

Once her skirt was bunched around her hips, she took the fabric from your hands, freeing them up for much more important things. 

Her eyes were shut, taking in the feeling of your hot fiery breath against her thigh, your kisses wet as they traced a path up to the cotton fabric that covered her. 

Your fingers were light in their touch while they tugged the fabric lower, down Violet’s legs and she could feel herself practically dripping with need. After you helped her step out of her underwear, you chuckled seeing her foot brush it off to the side, clearly anxious for your touch to return. 

Violet’s grip on the fabric of her dress tightened as she felt you hook one of her legs over your shoulder and she let herself look down for only a moment watching as you pressed kisses to her inner thigh. Despite warnings to be quick, you relished in those moments where you could build up her desire, making her tremble with even just the feeling of your breath against her skin. 

For a few moments, Violet felt nothing aside from your hand on her leg and hip supporting her, and she was about to ask if something was wrong, but just as she opened her mouth to speak she felt your tongue glide over her and words turned into needy moans. 

You squeezed her hip and her thigh, your voice low as you spoke against her making her knees go weak. 

“Remember, quiet, my dear.” 

Violet bit her tongue and nodded her head, pushing herself back so firmly into the door to steady herself as your touch continued, only growing more insistent with each passing moment. 

Just as she was about to lose herself in a haze, Violet thought she heard something. 

“Darling,” she whispered harshly. “Darling, wait.” 

You paused, the only sound in the room being that of your heavy breathing, but outside in the hallway, soft steps could be heard and you both became deathly still. 

The footsteps were accompanied by small quiet chatter, and just as quickly as they came, they left and the hall was silent once more. 

“Now where were we?” you murmured against her thigh and despite Violet’s heart threatening to burst out of her chest and the swirling nausea of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, she let you continue because what you did was so very addictive. 

Violet felt a groan escape past her lips and she quickly let go of her skirt with one hand, placing it over her mouth to mute herself, or more likely muffle whatever sounds she was making. 

You could feel the fabric of her skirt fall slightly against your face and as a result Violet could feel your chuckle vibrate against her making her knees wobble so that she fell more firmly on you.

A sharp gasp left her mouth, muffled by her hand. 

You knew by her reaction you’d hit a sensitive spot and your tongue worked tirelessly against her, feeling her body arch against you, her breathing becoming more rapid and frantic, gripping on the one side of her skirt with such intensity she could feel her nails dig into her skin where they met the palm of her hand. 

Violet felt herself rise, as if with the crest of a wave, building and building and building until finally it crashed down on the sandy shore and pulled away before lapping again and again. 

As you finally pulled away from Violet, her leg still draped over your shoulder, she took a few moments to gather herself before finally removing her hand from her mouth, noticing the marks she’d left on it from trying to silence herself.

You pressed gentle kisses to her thighs, your hands caressing the skin they were holding before moving to wipe your face and move her leg back to the floor. 

Violet let go of her skirt, letting it fall over herself and was about to reach down to grab her discarded underwear before you beat her to it. 

“Really?” her voice was still breathless, her nose merely an inch away from your own while you smiled and came closer to her. 

“No one would notice it was gone,” a devious playful sort of smile crossed your lips. 

“I would.” 

“That’s the point,” you whispered before pressing your lips to hers in a slow kiss. 

“You’re insatiable,” she mumbled against you, pulling you closer. 

“I’m not the one who couldn’t wait until we got home.”

TAGLIST —

@paola-carter @madde11 @thesamesweetie @cherrysxuya

[infiniteimaginings]

〔𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘉𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘰𝘯〕

Started: February 18th, 2024 Updated: June 13th, 2024

All my writings for Violet Bridgerton - Bridgerton

I. A Courtship || Romantic | Light Angst but overall just fluff

∙ One shot | Rating: General Audiences | Pairing: Violet Bridgerton x GN!Reader You court the dear Violet Bridgerton and she is surprised, but quite flushed at the idea.

[midnightscramble]

YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD????? IM OBSESSED

I will say, I was NOT expecting that cliff hanger in "Good luck, maid!" omg. If you're open to it could you do another part? this story is addictive 😭

Good Luck, Maid! Part 4 (Violet Brigerton x fem!Reader)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

The Masterlist

Author’s Note: Thanks so much to everyone who left kind words in my inbox, there were many requests for Part 4 and I chose at random which to answer but I hope it satisfies you all. If not feel free to make another request (don’t be shy!). Happy readings to you.

Summary: Violet tries to digest the information she has learned about Portia and Y/n. Colin and Penelope share news that intertwines the families forever. Violet becomes physically ill at the prospect of losing Y/n.

Warnings: insecurity, jealousy, panic attack, Violet has hateful fantasies about Portia and Y/n (slightly nsfw), no Beta read

Lady Featherington, her daughters and their husbands entered the family room. Portia approached with her usual charming smile and open arms, "Violet," she exclaimed as she took the woman's hands in her own, "How good of you to invite us!" Taken by surprise, Violet startled slightly at the unwelcome touch. Portia cocked her head in slight confusion but disregarded the action out of politeness.

"Good of you to join us," Lady Danbury interjected. She laid a gentle hand upon Portia's forearm, "Sorry to steal you away, I simply must show you what Violet has done with the garden. She is much to humble to show you herself, but I have no such qualms," The women smiled at each other and Portia allowed herself to be steered out of the room, with the rest of the Featherington household trailing after her.

Looking over her shoulder Lady Danbury gave a warning stare to Violet, now was the time to collect herself. Alone again, she released a breath through clenched teeth. Blood rushed to her head and the room seemed to increase in temperature. Portia Featherington was the Lady who had captured her dear Y/n's heart. Pursing her lips, she began to pace the length of the room. She was feeling agitated by Portia's presence. The way she waltzed into the drawing room as if she owned it, as if she owned Y/n, smiling like the cat who ate the canary. Oh, how Violet despised her. The friendship between their daughter's was the only reason she offered Portia the privilege of tolerance and now with the marriage of their children she had even contemplated becoming friendly. Such contemplations ceased.

She rested her palms on the cool wooden frame of the couch. She closed her eyes and brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. A headache was migrating from her eyes to her temples. In an attempt to soothe herself she applied pressure to the area. Her mouth tasted sour and she felt bile working its way up her throat as she thought about Y/n. It was by miracle alone that of all the times Portia had visited her home, that she had not run into her former maid. She briefly thanked Eloise's insistence on having her brothers chaperone her rather than Y/n. Although unreasonable, she was tempted to order Y/n to stay in her quarters until the Featheringtons departed, just to ensure she remained hidden. She tsked herself, she was not that cruel, nor was it her place to have such possessive feelings for the young woman. Y/n may be a part of her household, but she was not indentured to it, and such authority over her would only be plausible if they were man and wife.

Violet pressed a fist into her chest, feeling her heart beat erratically. If she could only know how the younger woman felt. Until she spoke to Y/n, she could only assume that the opportunity for Portia and her to cross paths had simply never arisen, thus why she settled for Violet. However, Y/n had seemed so resigned in the morning, having no reaction at all to Hyacinth's rushed plans to gather the two families together. Was it possible that the maid no longer cared for Portia, and thus had no reaction to the idea of her presence? Violet's mind eased slightly at the thought.

A footman came through the door, "Mr. and Mrs. Bridgerton have arrived, my Lady." She nodded her thanks and straightened her posture. Despite all the excitement, she had missed Colin greatly, and she would not allow Portia to mar the enjoyment of this reunion. She heard the young couple's excited chatter before she saw them, and felt herself soften at their giddy smiles.

"Lady Bridgerton" the couple spoke over each other, "Mama".

Colin wrapped his mother in an embrace, and she let her shoulders relax into the hold. "I've missed you, you must tell me of your adventures," she said honestly.

He chuckled at her tightening grasp, "All in due time Mama, I was hoping we could gather everyone together so I may not repeat myself," Violet loosened her grip at his words.

Taking a step back she smiled politely, "Yes, they all went to the gardens-"

Colin linked his arm between his mother's and Penelope's, "Fantastic" he interrupted, "we shall join them then?" Although phrased as a question, he had already begun to move the women with his powerful stride. Violet noted the unusual giddiness of her son, and how he kept moving his lips to the side to stop what seemed to be a smile.

The walk to the garden was faster than she would have liked, even with trying to stall them with conversation.

...

It was almost humorous how the sun decided to beat down and disrupt what was supposed to be a dreary winter day. Not a single cloud was in sight, leaving all exposed to the warm beams. There seemed to be no hiding from it. Violet squinted at the light. Her lips pulled back in a grimace, openly expressing her displeasure, although it was misinterpreted by those around her as a subtle smile.

Hyacinth, Eloise, and Francesca dropped the cricket equipment they had been setting up and jogged to meet them. The Featheringtons also swarmed around Colin and Penelope, embracing them and drowning the couple in questions. The noise of it all was aggravating her headache, and she involuntarily twitched whenever Phillipa's voice rose above the crowd. She put a hand just above her brow, covering her delicate irises from further torment. Sweat droplets were forming at the nape of her neck, sliding down until they reached the all too tight collar of her dress. She briefly considered tugging at the constricting piece of fabric, but ultimately decided it to be un-lady like. With effort, she avoided eye contact with the verbally rambunctious group, her gaze only being caught by Lady Danbury’s concerned stare.

All eyes turned to Colin as he clapped his hands together to establish order.

The whole group became silent. He delicately cradled his wife's hand as he spoke, "Dear loved ones, we have the most precious of announcements to make," He looked down at his wife, smiling ear to ear. Penelope continued, "We are with child!" Pandemonium erupted as congratulations were slung at the young couple. Colin looked at his mother expectantly, and Violet smiled widely at him, "What wonderful news, a true blessing," she said genuinely.

She registered Portia's presence behind her, and bit the inside of her cheek when the Lady's hand came to rest on her back. "I suppose we will be seeing much more of each other."

She knew the other woman had mostly said it in teasing jest, however Violet felt bile burn her throat at the prospect. "Yes, we shall," Her voice was airy and almost swallowed by the contious chatter around them.

Portia smiled sweetly and moved to stand by her daughters. The air only seemed to be getting warmer, thickening as the heat sucked water from ground. Violet tried to discreetly gulp but the air proved itself too dense to be swallowed. As her vision blurred, she grabbed onto one of the metal lounging chairs to stabilize herself.

In the distance she heard Eloise ask, "Mama, are you okay?" By the time her question had registered, Violet's eyes had already slipped closed and she felt the full effects of gravity as her knees gave out.

...

Her forehead pinched as she felt a wet cloth make contact with it. Her eyelids felt too heavy to open, but she came to realize that she now lay upon her bed. A soft hand brushed against her cheek, "Come on now, Lady Violet," Y/n gently coaxed. Violet's eyes fluttered open and she moved to kiss the hand stroking her adoringly.

"There you are..." Y/n hummed with affection and Violet suddenly felt very silly at their position. As she moved to sit up, a firm hand pushed at her chest, pressing her down until she conceded. She huffed in faux anonymous, covering her delight at the reassuring contact.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I got worked up," Violet looked at the woman hovering over her, currently inspecting her for any injuries she sustained from her fall. Careful hands sought her own, and she allowed herself to be moved as Y/n kissed the palms of her hands. Violet sighed contentedly, her mind still fuzzy from her fainting spell. The heat that bombarded her earlier had dulled to a fine warmth, beckoning her back to sleep. She almost nodded off, interrupted by the cool cloth sliding from her throat to her clavicle. She gasped in shock and suddenly became aware that she had been stripped down to her slip. She looked shyly at Y/n, both of them aware of her hardening nipples.

She bit her lip before speaking, "May I have you," it was bold, and very unlike her to ask so forwardly. While she did genuinely want the woman, it was the jealous, immature side of her that desperately wanted an affirmative answer. If she could lay her claim to Y/n, Portia would surely be forgotten. She sat up and grasped Y/n's arms, trying to bring them together, "Let me have you."

Wincing in discomfort, Y/n unsuccessfully tried to pull away from Violet's grasp, "You are in no state, Lady Violet."

Her eyes began to sting at the refusal. She had lost the privilege to touch Y/n, a privilege that would no doubt be returned to Portia. She could see it now, the way Y/n would gasp as the redhead palmed greedily at her chest. Portia's tongue gliding up the side of her neck, teeth grazing at her delicate shoulder, and Y/n's mouth opening as she moaned in ecstasy. She was sure the woman would take Y/n roughly, over a piece of furniture as if Y/n were some kind of animal, not caring enough to gaze upon the woman's exquisite features. It sickened her beyond belief.

Once aware of herself, Violet looked down shamefully, and relaxed her grip. When Y/n used her thumb and forefinger to raise her chin, Violet became reinvigorated, "Please, I need to feel you, I need to know you're mine." Violet's round pleading eyes did more begging than the woman’s words did. The reason for Violet's sudden change in behavior dawned on Y/n, and now it was her turn to look down in shame.

"I take it that you are aware of my history with Lady Featherington?" Violet nodded silently, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"If I could undo it, I would," she peered up at Violet's sympathetic face, "please understand, this short time with you has been more enlightening than my years with her." Her eyes shifted between Violet’s, trying desperately to communicate the enormity of her feelings.

Violet's lips pursed at the compliment, hiding her smile, "You do not have to lie to me-" Y/n brought her forehead to Violet’s and lightly kissed her, "I am not lying." Violet sighed in relief and reconnected their lips.

They separated for breath but kept their closeness, Violet quietly exhaled into the space between them, "You have no idea how much I care for you, it is near impossible."

"I have some idea," Y/n nuzzled Violet with her nose, "I am similarly entranced with you." Y/n pulled away suddenly, "I almost forgot, I was supposed to tell Mr. Bridgerton when you awoke."

Violet laughed, "Well you best not keep my son waiting, he may decide to come check on me himself."

"I'll return shortly," She looked once more at Violet, kissing her tenderly before departing.

...

With the weight of worry lifted off her chest at Violet's waking, she moved quickly down the long halls of the Bridgerton estate.

Y/n had to admit, it was difficult to deny the woman anything. It would be a lie to say she was not tempted, that she did not have a devastating desire for the Lady. As she watched over Violet's fragile sleeping form, she promised herself to take care of her, to never let harm come to her and to never be the one to bestow it. When Violet awoke she had looked positively primal, with her luscious locks voluminous from the humidity and eyes almost black from her expanded pupil. As divine as she was, Y/n knew that the blush on her chest was not attributed to lust, but heat stroke, and the darkness of her eyes a product of her head colliding with the ground. Y/n could not go to bed with the woman, not in that state. She would make it up to Violet in sure time.

Y/n found Mr. Bridgerton in the study and alerted him of Violet's consciousness. Relieved, he requested lunch be brought up to her and Y/n nodded. On her way to the kitchen she pondered what the Lady would prefer. Perhaps a cold soup to lower her body temperature? Or maybe fruit and pastries to liven her up-

"Y/n," the maid stopped dead in her tracks at the all too familiar drawl of her name.