theregencywriter

[theregencywriter]

speaking my truth guys

[theregencywriter]

it's been 4 days where is my lord debling x reader fics!

[theregencywriter]

Dearest Gentle Bridgerton writers,

I want need Lord Debling fanfiction.

Please.

[theregencywriter]

The Anatomy of an Artist - 1 - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Dearest Readers,

It seems as though another season is already upon us. Prick those feathers into place and calm your eager mama as today is most important. Today is the day where the lambs are led to slaughter, or more properly- Queen Charlotte is to choose a diamond. Everybody wished it were them, though this reader can gauge very few are even a remote possibility. As is seen with Miss Fairfrield, who mere days ago was caught with a man in her garden, unchaperoned. Would it not be fair for this author to presume a suitor would want to know of this possible ‘blooming’? It is precisely my purpose then, gentle reader, to reveal to you all of the juiciest scandal and gossip that this ton has to offer, and might I make a bet? This shall be one for the books!

Scandalously yours,

    Lady Whistledown

—

At age four, Y/n L/n fell in love. She remembered the exact time, shaded underneath the gazebo and turned around on the chair, facing the garden. She had been set down with her nanny whilst her mother and father toured the grounds. As they neared the corner leading to the forest, her mother dropped her glove and without a second thought her doting husband, Lord L/n had swooped down and picked it up. With a heaved chest and a wistful sigh Y/n looked on, in love.

In love with love.

From that point onwards it was no longer a want for love, but a craving for it. Hearing of each passing season she made a notch on the inside of her bedpost as each season ended, and her debut neared. Far removed from the bon ton of society that nested together in London, Lord L/n had furthered his family's wealth by setting up shop further up north, and while Y/n never minded the long walks with views to die for, she eagerly read the books in her fathers library about the vast world out there. 

First would be London, she thought. An obvious choice, yes, but if one is to go to Dover to be able to travel within Central Europe, why not make a stop? Next, Paris, then Rome. Maybe Barcelona, she thought at every family dinner. Her mind far removed from the boring conversations at hand her mind drifted. A man on a rock from a far off place, who would take one look at her and-

Her thoughts were interrupted by a tap on her leg, her aunt Cordelia who was visiting from London and sitting next to her. She leaned in, and with her cigarette stained breath she muttered “Focus girl, one day you’ll have to lead these frivolous conversations”. Y/n took note. It was a rare occasion, she understood, to be seated with one's parents for dinner instead of a separate room. However due to Y/n being their only child she was often included in events far more than other children her age. Though her mother would often repeat that ‘when perfection is achieved with one, how could you think to compete with another child’ Y/n was sure this wasn't true. Not because of how her mother stood idly in the doorway of empty bedrooms along the hall or how she could woefully pack away clothes Y/n had steadily outgrown, but rather the ill look she got in her eyes when she would walk through the town and see large families pass her.

It was hard for Y/n not to feel the added pressure of being the only heir to the Lordship, but even in the marriage mart. She knew as a woman she could never fathom the possibility of holding power by herself and she had to choose a match wisely, but when viewing her parents so deeply in love she wished she’d never have to enter the marriage mart, as one night when Lord and Lady L/n failed to make a dinner at Lord Fife’s she would have to debut alone.

Just a week after the tragic passing of her parents Cordelia moved in. Several carriages carrying piles and piles of tatter each more garish and outdated than the last pulled up outside of the home. Dismissing her poor niece's attempt to be comforted, she made a beeline towards the solicitor to sort out the matter. It was decided that until Y/n was of age that Cordelia and her Husband Chester would handle matters pertaining to the Lordship.

—

Y/n fidgeted with her bustline. “It's far too high up” she complained. Cordelia whipped out her fan and fluttered it against her own breast. “This is the latest fashion I assure you.” she said pointedly. Lord Chester L/n snatched her fan and attempted to cool himself, though his frantic movements did little to bring him relief. Stuck in a carriage with those two was torture enough, but in the blistering heat that ensued that day added to the pain. Y/n sunk into her seat and gazed out of the window, seeing large estates and several families entering carriages, the heads of those to be presented adorned with feathers. 

The carriage soon halted and without a moment's notice Chester bumbled out towards the air like a cow freed from slaughter. Cordelia and Y/n followed suit and whilst she was badgering the workers as to where to put all of the belongings Y/n sought refuge in her new room. She freshened herself up and had the customary feathers poked into her hair and was ready within minutes. As she looked into the mirror and smoothed out the last of her creases she wished she had more time. They were running late as it was, so to ask for longer would only prompt more rage from her guardians. They were once again back in the carriage promptly, though now Chester was equipped with a far bigger fan that he had instructed Cordelia to now hold, and as it raced down the cobblestones as to not be late Y/n could only ponder.

Is there even any love left in London?

[theregencywriter]

An Update <3

Hi guys, I don't know if anyone checks my blog for updates on fics, but I clearly haven't been posting in a while/ consistently. I'm planning on redoing one of my fave fics 'A Gentlemans Pursuit' with a clearer plot and regular updates. alongside that I'll also be working my way through asks and suggestions (which all sound AMAZING!!!!) If anyone has any requests or title names for the newer gentlemens pursuit, please let me know!!!!

Love you all, The Regency Writer

[theregencywriter]

Madness

I wrote this so long ago and then abandoned it because I didn’t know if the ending was satisfactory or not. I thought it would have a greater plot as well but when I couldn’t find it, I was dissatisfied until I reread it and realized the prose was too good not to publish.

Fluff but also a little bit of angst if you squint hard enough.

In which Benedict Bridgerton finally reveals the truth.

She was beautiful. Too beautiful, if Benedict was being perfectly honest with himself. Not the kind of beauty that had him picking up a paint brush and painstakingly striking an easel with lovely swirls of color but the kind of beauty that distracted him, made him brood in a dim corner of the room, watching the little twists of her mouth and the subtle way she arched a brow. Beauty to the point of distraction, like spending hours watching shooting stars dash across the night sky, not realizing as dawn approached on the horizon.

It was utterly maddening.

She was utterly maddening.

How was he meant to live, to exist and breathe, to witness such great beauty and yet have none of the capacity, the right, to keep it?

Just a glance from her, a single curve of her lips, and Benedict could feel his faith in God strengthening as easily as he could deny the Lord’s existence. Only a benevolent God could create such ecstatic beauty and yet no benevolent God could exist in this world if Benedict had to bear the cruelty of Y/N’s indifference.

Maddening.

He sighed, the sound bereft as he continued to watch her charm the eligible men of the ton. She had a veritable cabal of men gathered around her and if any other debutant had been in her position, they surely would have been overwhelmed by now.

But not Y/N.

Never Y/N.

With her head held high and her smile demure, she directed the men as easily as if she was holding court. A slight clearing of the throat and already, someone had a glass of lemonade in their hand while a flap of her hand would have the men falling over themselves in an attempt to get her a chair.

A queen holding court, indeed.

Benedict rolled his eyes at the man to her right, who practically shoved at the man on his left in order to catch Y/N’s attention. Not that it really mattered though, especially not when Y/N’s attention was focused on Benedict.

Even from across the room, the tension between them felt palpable. Exhilarating. It always had been with Y/N. Thick and smooth, the connection between them as tangible as their own beating hearts. Just a shared look between them and the world fell silent, the edges of his vision practically darkening at the edges until he saw only her.

Beautiful. Even as her face contorted with hurt for the briefest of seconds, her eyes pulling away from him and returning to the crowd of men that surrounded her.

Benedict gritted his teeth, the only sign of annoyance he let himself show.

“I see you are not quite so enamored with our diamond.”

Benedict’s head whipped to the left, finding Lady Danbury watching him with those shrewd eyes of hers. The old crone had her cane gripped tightly in her hands and Benedict fought his grimace at the phantom pain that shot up from his ankles. The dowager countess had a terrible habit of whacking gentlemen she didn’t like with that sturdy cane of hers and Benedict had felt the brunt of that pain far too many times for his liking.

Still, as a gentleman, he couldn’t very well ignore the woman. It would have been terribly rude of him to and it went against every fiber of the etiquette that had been drilled to him as a child.

He spared Y/N another glance before he spoke. “You think all those men enamored with her?”

“I think they think themselves enamored by her,” Lady Danbury said. “She is quite a beauty and accomplished too, I hear. Are you acquainted with the young lady?”

He had been, when he was young. As recently as a few months ago, Benedict had counted Y/N as one of his dearest friends but with everything that transpired between them…

“We are familiar with one another.”

Lady Danbury arched a brow, directing her attention back to Y/N. She was animatedly speaking with Anthony and Colin, the only time the entire evening where her smile didn’t seem a little bit forced. “Your brothers seem friendly with her. Why aren’t you?”

Because he was a stupid, bloody, idiot who didn’t know how to keep his damn mouth shut, that’s why.

But his pride would never let him say that, especially not in front of Lady Danbury. “We are familiar with each other.” He repeated, voice tight.

Lady Danbury’s eyes flickered. “I seem to recall your mother telling me about how you and the Lady Y/N were thick as thieves not so long ago.”

Bloody hell, the old crone was relentless. He didn’t want to talk about his and Y/N’s falling out, especially not with her.

He suddenly whirled, cocking his head to the side. “Oh, I believe I hear someone calling me.”

No one was calling him but not even his impeccable manners could make him stay.

Lady Danbury harrumphed. “I may be old, boy, but I am not deaf.”

“Definitely hear someone calling me.” Benedict even cupped a hand, placing it on the side of his mouth before he yelled a quick, “I’ll be right there!” He turned back to Lady Danbury, who was looking at him as if she knew his claims were a lie. “Lady Danbury, if you’ll excuse me.”

The dowager countess simply gave Benedict a knowing look yet let him go.

He ducked into the crowd towards… bloody hell he couldn’t find anyone he would rather talk to. His brothers were still off speaking with Y/N and he didn’t feel like speaking with his mother, who would likely hound him about his fight with Y/N. Which left the last person of their party, Eloise. A quick scan of the room revealed his sister in the other side of the room, conspiratorially whispering to her best friend, Penelope Featherington.

He zoomed towards them, turning his back on Y/N and Lady Danbury.

Eloise caught his eye as he approached and her lips pursed in displeasure. “Why do you look as if you’re expecting me to bail you out of a horrible situation.”

“Can’t I see my favorite sister with joy in my face without being suspected of ill intent?”Benedict said with a grin before bowing to Penelope, who returned the gesture with her own curtsy.

Penelope ducked her head to suppress a giggle.

Eloise rolled her eyes at him. “What do you want?”

“To ask you why you’re sulking in a corner instead of dancing despite—“ he pulled at the dance card in her wrist, every single line filled with names that were unfamiliar to him. “Did you put fake names in your dance card?”

Eloise snatched her wrist back. “Yes. I thought that with Y/N grabbing the attention of so many of the gentlemen, I would be spared the embarrassment of having to entertain any gentlemen tonight. Unfortunately, I was wrong.”

Benedict turned to Penelope. “How many approached her?”

“Six,” Penelope smirked, “and those six quickly turned right back around.”

“Well with a full dance card, I’m not at all surprised.”

Eloise rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Spare me the lecture, brother. I’m sure I’ll hear enough from mother tonight.”

“She caught you?”

“After Eloise turned down the sixth one, Lady Violet began to suspect,” Penelope explained.

Benedict grinned. “When have you known me to lecture you?”

She gave him a saccharine smile, the kind that Benedict always knew would end with her barbed words. “Aren’t you meant to be fawning over Y/N? You’d done it most of our life.”

He bristled at her words.

Penelope shot them a curious look. “You never told me you were acquainted with the lady?”

“Hadn’t I?” Eloise frowned. “Lady Y/L/N’s family and ours have been acquainted for ages. Of course, she rarely ever came to London and if it hadn’t been for her father’s recent passing she wouldn’t have had a season at all. Mama had held hope that perhaps one of my dear brothers would begin to take some responsibility and marry her.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper that was so loud, it still reached Benedict’s ears. “Personally, I always thought Benedict would offer. He and Y/N had a special bond growing up. Even Daphne thinks so.”

Benedict had never hit a woman before but perhaps, just this once, excuses could be made for one’s sisters.

“So, well acquainted then,” Penelope said with a slight smile.

“I do recall Benedict pining after Y/N for years,” Eloise mused, uncaring as Benedict’s mood soured. “You never did tell me why it is you suddenly became estranged”

“Not that it’s any of your business.” He grumbled.

Eloise batted eyes innocently. “Irritable today, aren’t you, brother? Could it possibly be because of the cadre of men that hound every one of Y/N’s footsteps?”

“I have changed my mind. Francesca is now my favorite sister.”

“I love you too, Benedict,” she all but grinned.

He turned his attention back to Y/N, who, to his surprise, had taken her leave.

“She’s in the garden, if you wish to speak to her,” Eloise said, noting his wandering eyes and nodding towards the open veranda at the side.

“What gave you the impression that I would like to speak to her?”

Eloise simply rolled her eyes before tugging Penelope’s arm. “With Y/N taking her respite, I imagine there will be a sudden influx of gentlemen who would like to dance. Let us make ourselves scarce.” And she pulled Penelope along, the red head offering Benedict an apologetic look.

He glanced at the crowd once again before letting his feet carry him through the veranda and out towards the garden. There were still many people milling about outside that granted them protection from scandal but it was much more intimate than the loud din of the ballroom.

The night was cool, the spring air serene compared to the humidity of the ballroom.

He spied Y/N, her back turned against the door. Upon hearing his approach, she sighed. “Good sir, if you did not understand me, I wish to be al—“ she turned and her words died at her lips at the sight of him. “Oh. It’s you.”

She looked even lovelier up close. She always did. Whether dressed in a simple frock with her long hair flowing down her back or dressed ornately with jewels adorning her, she always looked lovelier up close.

“What do you want, Benedict,” Y/N said, dropping that societal mask she employed inside.

“To apologize.”

She shook her head. “There is nothing to apologize for. You asked for my hand under false pretenses, I rejected you. End of story.“

“Under false pretenses?” He echoed, his own tone turning sharp. “You think my proposal to be insincere? Is that why you rejected me?”

“I did not think it insincere, I knew it to be insincere. I heard you and the Lady Violet discussing me. I heard when you declared your intention to ask for my hand in marriage simply because she had asked you to.”

Oh.

Oh.

He remembered then, the conversation he had with his mother right before he proposed.

“Propose to her,” Violet had urged just as breakfast had been served, with only Benedict and Violet dining.

“I am not even courting her, mama,” he replied exasperatedly. It had been far too early in the morning to entertain his mother’s insistence on seeing him wed to Y/N. She’d pestered him about it in one form or another even before the Y/L/Ns had come to visit the Bridgertons and Benedict knew she would not stop until he and Y/N were formally engaged.

But Y/N had just ended her mourning period for her father. And though societal mandates dictated that it was perfectly reasonable for Benedict to ask for her hand in marriage, he knew how deeply she mourned the man, especially since his death had placed her in such a precarious position. The late patriarch of the Y/L/N family had been fond of his only child, even if she had been born a girl. And Y/N had loved him, even if his death left her and her mother saddled with financial debt despite coming from the longest line of barony in England.

“What does it matter that you are not courting?” Violet demanded. “You have known her since you were both children. You’ve been courting her all your life.”

“Mama, please leave it well enough alone.”

“What is it that you do not like about her?” She insisted. “She is beautiful and accomplished and you have known each other your whole lives. Any young man would be fortunate to be bound to her in marriage.”

“I never said anything that would imply otherwise.”

“Then why do you refuse to ask her for her hand in marriage? Doing so would spare her a season in London and limit their financial troubles.” And then she had gasped in indignation. “Or is their financial troubles the very reason why you refuse? I never raised you to be avaricious!”

Bloody hell. “I am not avaricious, mother. I do not care about her dowry or lack thereof!”

“Then what is it? Do not tell me it is because you do not love her. I have seen the way you look at her.”

Benedict had eyed his fork, had wondered if perhaps, it would be a better to shove it in his ears than listen to his mother’s hullabaloo.

Instead he took a scone, spreading a generous layer of clotted cream and jam so his hands had something to do rather than maim himself.

“And how is it I look at her, mother?” He drawled.

“The same way your father used to look at me.”

At that he had paused, scone half-raised to his mouth. He hadn’t known what to say anymore. Mentions of his own father had always been capable of silencing his mind.

Finally, he had decided on telling her the truth, that his mother may finally stop pestering him.

“Asking Y/N for her hand in marriage had always been the plan, mother,” Benedict relented. “I was simply waiting for the perfect moment.”

Violet smiled at her son kindly. “There are no such thing as perfect moments, dearest. Only moments that can be made perfect. And whether you ask her later or tomorrow or next week, that moment will be perfect by virtue of you asking.”

She was right, of course. Violet Bridgerton was so rarely incorrect especially in matters of the heart and love.

Benedict had given her a smile, and said, voice dripping in sarcasm. “Well, since you so graciously asked me to, I shall propose to the Lady Y/N, if only to make you happy.”

That must have been what Y/N heard. Not the whole story but the end, when Benedict had teased his mother.

Now he was convinced that God existed and that he must be cruel. Only the machinations of a cruel God could have lined up the timing perfectly.

Y/N’s eyes flickered as she regarded him. “I do not wish to bind you in marriage with someone you do not hold any affection for. You have fulfilled your promise to your mother and have asked for my hand. I rejected you. We no longer have any obligations with one another. Good night.” She made a move to pass him, to walk back to the ballroom to her gaggle of men but Benedict’s hand shot up, gripping her arm and keeping her to him.

His hands were gloved and even Y/N’s arms were sheathed in silk. And though he had never felt gloves to be particularly offensive, he wished to burn the ones that covered their hands. If only so he could feel her smooth skin beneath his fingers.

The heady scent of her perfume wafted through his senses. She smelled divine, like walking through a garden of roses under the cover of moonlight as the stars twinkled above his head. Utterly mouthwatering, and capable of driving even the sanest of men into insanity. The scent of distraction.

Always so distracting.

Benedict forced his mouth to speak before his brain could forget the words he needed to say. “Do you think so little of me? Capable of such cruelty especially when it comes to you.”

Y/N’s brows met, a flash of pain in her eyes and then it was gone. “It is the opposite, really. I think the world of you, Benedict. Only a gentleman would offer to marry a girl he has no obligations to simply because of her precarious position in life. You are an honorable man and any woman would be lucky to call you their husband. It is why I cannot accept your proposal, not when you do not love me. Not when there is no one on this world more deserving of love than you.”

Benedict frowned at her. “Why do you continue to insist that I do not love you?”

“Because you do not!” She pulled away from him, wrenching her hand from his grasp. Her eyes were pure anguish as she looked at him and the very sight of her pain had him staggering back. “If you truly held any affection for me, I would know. I have studied you all our lives, Benedict. And in all the time we shared together, you had never shown any affection for me beyond that of a friend. Your proposal hurt, Benedict. I have loved you in every way a man could be loved for so long and for you to ask for my hand in marriage out of pity—“ She choked, eyes widening as if she didn’t mean to say the things she’d said.

“You love me?” He echoed, heart beating quickly in his chest. He wondered, briefly, if his fast beating heart marks the day he really lived. If Y/N’s confession had been the reason he truly felt alive for the first time in his life.

Her face crumpled in pain as she stepped back. “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said those things. Please take your leave, Benedict. That I may salvage whatever scraps of my dignity is left.”

But Benedict did no such thing.

Instead he took her hands and lowered himself into a kneel, setting his eyes upon her. The arching light of the manor spilled over the veranda casted her in a soft glow that took his very breath away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in alarm and whatever pain she held there was washed away by her surprise. “Benedict, what are you doing?”

“Begging you for forgiveness.”

“What? Benedict, get up.”

But he held firm, his determination cementing his knees to the ground. “Forgive me, Y/N, for my grave transgressions against you. That you had ever lived your life doubting my affections for you, or wondering if I cared for you as more than a friend are sins I will carry with me to my last breath. It will be my great shame that I had not made it abundantly clear that I love you. Because I do love you. Most ardently.”

“Benedict, get up. This is madness—“

“You are right. It is madness. The way I feel for you would drive the sanest of people into lunacy. But if loving you is madness then I don’t ever wish to be sane.”

Her eyes gleamed silver with unshed tears that threatened to fall from her pretty eyes. “B-But that morning, the day you proposed—“

“I did not propose to you out of pity for you, I did it out of pity for me. I needed to put myself out of my misery and finally marry the only girl I ever had the privilege of falling in love with rather than continue pining after you in secret.”

She let out a a laugh through her tears, the sound like bells chiming during a storm. Light and beautiful despite the pouring rain that threatened to drown it out. “Ask me again.”

His heart leapt to his throat, pounding so quickly he struggled to get the words out. But they came nonetheless, the words clear and betraying none of his anxiety. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

[theregencywriter]

Lost in Silence 2 - Theo Sharpe x Reader

A/n - okay so this is embarrassingly short! I had such a chaotic day but I still wanted to put something out so I hope it's still okay! <3

Theo Sharpe was always attractive, Y/n couldn’t lie. Though most of her days were spent alongside her mother doing daily household tasks, on the odd chance she went to her father's place of work and Theo was there the two would play. Running between the printers, throwing discarded paper at each other, the two would enjoy each other's company into the long hours that the printers required. Though by the end of most days the two would be lightly stained with cheap ink, Y/n couldn't help as they both grew older they exchanged stolen glances, and though Y/n had to move away before it could bloom, she always wondered if he thought her as beautiful as she thought him, despite the ink.

Now, presently stood Theo, taller and with a more defined jaw and ears that stretched outwards slightly more than they used to, one thing was the same - his kind eyes. Y/n watched as the woman that was speaking walked off of the stage and hugged Theo. Though her heart sank momentarily, after he handed her a pamphlet she walked off, as if friends.

Was she jealous? No no, she couldn't be. Right? She was unsure of what to do. She had meant to find him and give him back his notebook, a plan she was beginning to realise was riddled with idiocracy. As she turned to leave a man came to her side. “Excuse me miss, I- '' Theo looked at her and paused. He gulped, and Y/n couldn't help but look at his Adam apple as it pulsated in doing so. “Y/n?” He questioned. It was as if seeing him again had reduced her to that same love stricken child she was all those years ago, though now she found herself in quite the predicament. In the heat of the moment she could only think of doing one thing.

“.....Theo? Is it Theo? You seem familiar” She smiled politely as she spoke, pretending to vaguely recognise his face. He stumbled over his words, clearly either shocked it was her or that she apparently didn’t remember him in the same capacity that he remembered her. “Yes, its Theo, Theo Sharpe?” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, pausing momentarily as if allowing her to try and remember him. “Oh yes! The son of my late fathers coworker.” Y/n had never realised how posh her voice had become, but hearing his again made her sink into her old accent, though more falsified and sounding like a parody. He looked at her and jerked his head slightly back in offence.

“Yes, the son of your later fathers-” He trailed off. “I’m sorry? Is that all I was to you?” “How do you suppose?” She questioned. “We were friends, were we not? Or am I misremembering?” His words were tipped with a harsh edge that made her shrivel up slightly. She took in a sigh, “No, no of course not. If I may be honest, seeing you again made me panic.” She chuckled as she said it. It had been the first time in quite some time that she had spoken so freely, unafraid of enunciating or tiptoeing around a subject. “Panicked? What for?” He joined her in a laugh, further easing her state. “I do not know truly. It has been a while hasn’t it?” SHe reached out and placed a hand on his elbow like she had done a thousand times as a young girl, though when her hand was met by a firmer and larger arm by that of man than she remembered she took it off again almost suddenly. “I’m sorry, I forget myself.” She grinned an awkward smile, placing her hand on her forehead as the heat stifled her and took in her surroundings to avert his gaze. “Do not worry, miss Y/n,” He leaned in cheekily “You are not in Mayfair. We may converse freely away from the gaze of that Whistledown.” She looked back at him in confusion. “You know Whistledown? How?” He grinned as if the owner of his own secret. “I print it.” He spoke, confidence beaming from his face. “Well, I say! You must show me where one day, if I am not being too forward.”

“Not at all, why not now?” He asked. For a moment she grinned as she contemplated it, but a sad look soon took over her expression. “I cannot, I’m sorry. I need to be getting back home.” He nodded his head and they hugged, him stroking her back in a manner that she could not help but reminisce about later on that night in bed. As she walked out and entered into the nearest available carriage, she ran her fingers up and down the blue book, still in her possession. Another reason to go back, she thought as she rode off.

[theregencywriter]

Lost in Silence 1 - Theo Sharpe x Reader

A/n - Okay so I'm obviously rewatching Bridgerton (are we surprised???) and I realised there's really no fics of Theo???? I mean of course there are but not many and I feel like he's underrated so I needed to put this out there! Still not completely sure which direction to take this in so pls message or comment if you have literally any ideas but uh, yeah! Hope you enjoy <3

The air was thick with tension. Y/n’s mother paced back and forth whilst her daughter Y/n, only ten, sat watching. The cobbled streets of London were cold and unforgiving but with no more room available in the room they were forced to wait outside. Hours passed before the doctor came out, his already stained robes marred with a fresh tint of crimson blood. He romoved a glove and placed his hand onto her Mothers arm as he spoke. “The bleeding was too much. There was nothing we could do and yet we still exhausted all options. I’m sorry.”

And then began a shriek from her mouth that young Y/n could swear rattled the nearby windows, as she shrank to the floor. It was odd, Y/n would recall years later, she never believed her mother to be truly extraordinary, and yet seeing her reduced to a blubbering mess on the floor was an unbearable sight. Y/n took off, her feet taking her as if by their own volition, running down twisted streets until she was pounding on a door.

“Y/n?” Theo asked, puzzled and tired as he opened his front door. He looked at his friend, and before she replied he was holding her in a deep embrace. Though he was only two years older than her he was naturally protective of her like no one ever had been. “He’s, he’s, oh my god!” It was as if by saying out loud for the first time it would become real, concrete and solid. “He’s what? Who’s what? Y/n please” Theo begged, his already panicked face deepening with worry. “Father!Oh Father, he was stabbed by a highwayman on his way back from the countryside! He’s gone!” Theo pulled her in closer. He had known that Y/n’s father, a coworker of his own at the butchers, was going out of London to look for work elsewhere. He also knew how worried Y/n was, and heard from his father that she was seen pleading with her own for him not to go, out of fear of a robbery.

Theo held her for a while until her mother came looking, and when he looked at her though mere hours had passed the once vibrant face of Y/n’s mother was sunken and worn. Before Y/n left with her, Theo gave her a vibrant blue notebook. “For company, when I myself am not there.” He smiled, only faintly as she left.

—

Y/n fidgeted with her bow. “Is it not too garish? I thought so all night” She asked. “Nonsense Miss Y/n, it is beautiful” Her maid replied as she helped fix it into her updo. In the years that passed since her fathers death her mother had remarried to a Lord Reginald Harrington, his wealth only matched by his cruelty. They had one child together other than Y/n, an Arrabella Harrington, now nearing twelve. Her birth was scandalously close to their wedding, yet she seemed to finally snap her mother out of the haze she had been in. To say having Arrabella had saved her would be a stretch, Y/n often lay awake at night worrying what could’ve happened had her mother not fallen pregnant and found a new purpose in life.

It was no surprise to anyone then that Y/n would be treated lesser than her sister by both parents. Y/n’s mother, now Lady Isadora Harrington, saw Arrabella as a second chance, whilst Lord Harrington naturally leaned towards the child that was his through blood. Despite this, Y/n was still sent through the marriage mart each season, attending balls and accepting callers. It wasn’t that she tired of it, per se, as she did find comfort standing on the sidelines with her two friends. It was moreso the matter of feeling like an imposter, knowing if it werent for a terrible accident that she wouldnt be here. That was something Penelope and Eloise simply couldnt grasp seeing as they were born into the lavish life they lead.

Whilst Y/n wasn’t closed off to the idea of marriage and preparing for life as a dutiful spinster, any man who attempted to court her never made it past the first two weeks. There were too many differences, she supposed, in their upbringing. After the first five men came calling it was clear they wanted a wife, not a companion. Seeing how regular people saw love most definitely shaped how Y/n saw the marriage mart. In the lower classes marrying for love was more common, as there were no titles to be exchanged. The marriage mart seemed to be just that in comparison- a business exchange. 

It was after one of these balls where Y/n found herself, being undressed by her lady’s maid. It was a remarkably unremarkable one, where she was once again stood by the edge like a wallflower. “I just don’t understand miss,” Her maid, Rosalind spoke. “Is it not a great honour to attend?” “I suppose,” Y/n replied as wrangled out of the embellished dress “Yet at the same time it feels so futile. There is no use in pretending, it is simple. I am an imposter.” Rosalind looked up, puzzled as Y/n continued. “I do not feel love, or anything. It feels like business there. No emotions to be had.”

Rosalind stopped pulling down Y/n’s stockings and paused. “Miss, I have been attending to you almost since you first day at this house. You have always been so closed off to everyone, were you like that before the?” She quit her sentence but they both knew she meant the accident. “No, not really” Y/n confessed. “I used to be open and vibrant before it all. It wasn’t even the accident in truth it was the whole combined affair. Not only losing my father but just mere weeks after losing all of the people I had ever known by moving to Mayfair. Even now I feel as though I am playing a role, that one day I might return back to the old house.” Y/n was smiling as she reminisced, unaware Rosalind was done.

“Miss, excuse me for speaking out of term if I do, but you cannot return. You have no reason to. Goodnight” Rosalind shut the door behind her as she left. Y/n sat on the edge of her bed and looked up at the vast array of books on the wall to her right. Tucked away, hidden in the very top corner, was a notebook. A vibrant blue with gold embossing on the spine it seemed to shine in the candlelight. Rolling her bookshelf ladder across to retrieve it she ran her fingers across it, taking in the delicate imprints where the gold pigment lay. After Theo had given her the book, she had never written in it. She had never even seen him after he had given it, seeing as they took no callers for their mourning period and soon moved to Mayfair to be with her new Stepfather. Y/n clinched the book in her hand and contemplated.

—

As she snuck out of her family home’s side door and caressed the dim streets of London it dawned on her the severity of what she was doing. She was unsure what would be worse, to encounter a madman alone of fall victim to the quill of Whistledown writing about an unchaperoned outing. She found her way towards Bloomsbury after several wrong turns, and while some landmarks were vaugley familiar, the majority were not. As she entered the only place on a street that had its lights on, a pub, she asked one of the patrons where to find Corral Street. The patron in return said a couple of slurred words, before turning to the stage and cheering some half hearted gibberish as a woman took to the stage. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, If I may steal you from your drinks for just a moment, I find myself compelled to speak on a matter of great importance - the rights of women.” Y/n drew closer, as if entranced, and sat on the second row of benches. “In this new age of enlightenment, where minds are expanding and horizons are broadening, it is imperative that we do not neglect the rights and freedoms of one half of humanity simply based on their gender. For too long, women have been relegated to the sidelines, their voices silenced, their aspirations thwarted by societal norms and expectations. Let us not forget the brave women who have come before us, who fought tirelessly for the rights that we now take for granted. Let us honour their legacy by continuing their struggle, by raising our voices in solidarity until every woman, regardless of class or station, is granted the respect and dignity that is her due!”

The place erupted into cheers, and Y/n joined them, though restrained due to her latter years of education. As she rose up and looked around, confused on where to or how to find directions, her eyes fixed onto a man. Though taller and more rugged than the sensitive boy she once knew, it was undeniable. 

It was Theo.

[theregencywriter]

Omg omg omg wait wait wait idk if anyone ever done this before but imagine meeting Colin on his travels and he thinks he'll never see you again so like yall might have shared a kiss 🤭 and then when Colin goes back him for the season and sees you his brain just short circuits and he's just shocked and his family have no idea why lol

Idk I would just love to see that lmao I love seeing Colin in distress when it comes to the women he loves

Over the sandy dunes - Colin Bridgerton X Reader

A/n : I love this request!!!! I saw it pop up in my inbox and I just HAD to write it ASAP, thank you so much for the request <3

When Colin Bridgerton left London to escape all of the recent turbulent events, he felt he could breathe again. With no Lady Whistledown looking over his shoulder or a hundred debutantes wishing for a dance, he could simply relax. It was in his sixth week abroad when he took rest along the shores of a beach in Greece. He had woken up early to catch the morning sun rise and be alone with his thoughts. He liked the guides he had, but to find true solitude with no one around was a rarity even in the smallest of towns. Laying on his back he stared up at the sky as the stars retreated upwards into the deep blue, and as the first rays of light pricked his noses and ran into his eyes he sat up to gaze upon the marvel.

His view, however, was obstructed. Up ahead was a woman on the beach, standing close to the thrashing sea and wearing a light dress with a lilac shawl that was tussling with the burgeoning winds. Normally he would have hated this interruption as he had woken up early specifically to be alone, but when looking at her form and how she seemed to sway ever so delicately he couldn't help but advance.

“Lovely day, isnt it?” As he uttered these words she quickly spun around in shock, making him realise he was probably far too close for comfort ad taking a step back. As she assessed the moment and relaxed  she spoke. “Yes, it is beautiful. I’m sorry, I thought I was alone here.” Colin chuckled. “Did you not see me laying down mere metres behind you?” She joined him in a laugh. “I have been walking along the shore for quite a while now. I fear my gaze was fixed on the horizon, nothing could break me from it.” 

A moment of silence fell between them. “Colin Bridgerton” he reached out his hand. “I am unsure if I can give you my familial name, but please, call me Y/n.” She gave him her hand and he planted a soft kiss onto it. “You speak with a similar accent, are you from London?” He enquired. “Not quite. I do have relatives in the city, but I live further North, close to Lincoln.”

Colin broke a smile. “Ah, well then, that explains it.” She looked at him, puzzled yet entertained. “Explains what?”

“Well I was unsure of how I could have never seen a face as beautiful as yours during a ball.” She looked down, and bit her lips. “If I may be honest, I was meant to debut this year, but I find the whole event to be pure drabble.” They shared a laugh. “In truth, I much prefer this to a ball. Endless exploration available at my very fingertips. It’s a wonder, is it not?” She looked at him, then towards the sunset, and she was returning his gaze once more he took her in, kissing her as she cupped his face.

This lasted for only a second before he pulled away. “I apologise, that was improper.” “Mr Bridgerton it was-” Another voice called down towards them from Colins residence. “Mr Bridgerton, there is a matter you must attend to!” Despite looking at his forlorn beau, he ran up the sandy dunes and over the hill, leaving Y/n alone.

Hours later, after sitting with the incident and realising he hadn’t allowed her to speak he ordered a carriage. According to his guided there was only one possible place anyone of her status could stay close by, but when he arrived he was informed that the family had left earlier on in the day, whilst refusing to give them their whereabouts. Upon his return to England he attempted to find her. Asking around if her name was known but without her last name, his efforts turned up nothing.

—

Colin fidgeted with his cuff, it had been slightly wrinkled earlier on yet he had no time to change it. He was never really a fan of these events, but knowing that Y/n detested them as well made it worse. The one event they conversed about, yet the subject was how she did not intend to be in attendance. His stomach churned thinking about it. How could he have left? No no, not just left, run up the dunes to get away from her. He had to take a breath and stop himself. It had been a year, he thought, he must move on. As he calmed and took a moment the doors swung open to announce another guest.

“Lady L/n and her daughter, Miss Y/n L/n”

His gaze was transfixed on her. As she came down the stairs her hand grasped by Colin, already a couple of steps up from his eagerness. “Miss Y/n, I believe I owe you a dance” He proclaimed, stroking her finger as he did and wondering about her ring size.

[theregencywriter]

Hello is it just Colin you are taking requests for?

Absolutely not! I can do anything! <3

[theregencywriter]

hello could you please write something cute for colin? y/n is kind of a wallflower, she loves to bake (even though that’s not really a norm in that time period) she loves to eat just like colin, she never thought a bridgerton would be interested in her

Recipe for Sweetness -

Colin Bridgerton x Reader

A/n- ahhhhh I love this request so much!!! If anyone has any more pls lmk! <3

Most of the ton had their own vices. For some, it was the scandalous gossip provided by the elusive Lady Whistledown, for others it was late nights spent unchaperoned around a gentleman’s house. Either of these, however indecent, would have been better than her daughter’s hobby, thought Y/N’s mother. Since her debut at the start of the season, Y/N had a small amount of callers whose interest soon fizzled out as her meek personality made them quickly move onto more promising options.

Y/N was never one for dramatics. She hated the idea of a polite society, and even more so being trussed up infront of others in the hopes of finding a husband. To her, it was such a farce. The only solace she found at these events were her two friends, Penelope and Eloise. They had not really known Y/N before the seasons start, but as it neared its close they had all grown to become quite good friends. Sure, they did not understand why Y/N would turn down a promenade to bake in the servants kitchen, even if they themselves were also not in attendance, but they still bonded over their thirst for knowledge and adventure.

On one Monday midday Y/N came to the Bridgerton household. Her chaperone, Marie, held in her hand a three tiered tray of decadent pastries, lovingly baked and hand decorated by Y/N. As Marie went through to the drawing room to set down the desserts Y/N was informed that Eloise was currently out and unable to join her for a tea, though she was more than welcome to wait.

Y/N entered the room and was greeted by Colin Bridgerton, eating a pastry. He turned to her and choked a little bit, as if caught red handed. “I apologise, miss Y/n” he managed to utter. “It’s quite alright Colin, what do you think of them?” Although it somewhat hurt to see her creation be consumed by someone other than the intended party, she thought no harm in staying civil. “They are wonderful, I did not realise they were not our own until I had taken a bit and looked down at the name on the tray. Please, give compliments to your kitchen.”

Y/N smiled, “ Actually, I made them myself” Colin looked at her somewhat bewildered. “You are full of surprises aren’t you?” He replied, his voice filled partially with a slight crack. “However do you mean?” Y/N questioned? He looked into her eyes, truly looked like no other man had, and advanced closer. “You appear as a wallflower at all of the events. Stood in the back, no dance to be had.” Y/n drew a puzzled look onto her face, is this meant to be a compliment? “And yet when I observe you with my sister away from society, you light up, your spark well and truly visible. In some ways I envy my sister, that she is able to make that side of you appear.”

He drew in closer yet again, as the footsteps of Eloise neared, back from promenade. He smiled down at Y/N, and as he left he turned back to her “I would very much like to call upon you tomorrow, of course if Eloise shall allow it.” He chuckled, before passing his sister and leaving.

Having her utterly breathless

[theregencywriter]

Colin bridgerton one shots anyone? Any ideas pls request them and lmk <3

[theregencywriter]

Normalize going into people’s ask boxes and ask them random ass questions.

Tumblr used to be so much fun with all the asks (anonymous or otherwise), and we need to bring those back, especially now that we finally have a half-decent blocking feature in place.

Ask people things! Message them! Don’t let tumblr inbox die! It’s one of the features that made tumblr tumblr.

[theregencywriter]

Whispers of an heiress

Benedict x Y/N

Dear Readers,

As the anticipation for the upcoming season reaches a fever pitch, I find myself compelled to share some intriguing tidings from the esteemed halls of London's high society. Prepare yourselves, for a debutante like no other is set to grace the Ton with her presence.

Whispers of the mysterious and alluring Y/N from the illustrious L/N family have reached my ears, and it appears she is destined to make a striking debut under the watchful eye of none other than the esteemed Bridgerton family. Yes, dear readers, you heard it here first – a debutante who has never tread upon the bustling streets of London is about to take the social scene by storm.

What could have prompted such a debut, you ask? Well, my sources suggest that it is a tale of family connections and newfound alliances. The Bridgertons, known for their impeccable taste and standing in society, seem to have taken Y/N under their wing for the season. One can only wonder what intrigues and scandals will unfold as she navigates the intricate dance of London's high society.

So, fasten your seat belts, dear readers, for the upcoming season promises to be nothing short of captivating. As always, I shall be here, keeping a keen eye on the comings and goings of the Ton, ready to unveil the secrets that lie beneath the glittering facade of Regency London.

Yours in gossip,

Lady Whistledown

—-

Benedict's insistent voice reverberated through the hallway of the Bridgerton residence, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm ambiance on the polished surfaces and ornate furnishings. The anticipation of the evening hung in the air like a delicate waltz awaiting its first notes.

Outside Eloise's door, Benedict Bridgerton, his tall frame leaning casually against the banister, called out with a mix of impatience and amusement, "Come on, Eloise, we're all waiting for you. The carriage is practically tapping its wheels in impatience, and you know how punctual Mother insists we must be." Behind the door, muffled sounds suggested Eloise was in the final stages of preparation, her chosen gown rustling with the promise of elegance.

Benedict couldn't help but glance down the hallway, where the rest of the Bridgerton siblings stood in various states of readiness. Anthony, the eldest, adjusted the cuffs of his impeccable coat, while Daphne, ever the picture of grace, exchanged a knowing look with her husband, Simon. Colin, always the adventurer, checked his reflection in a nearby mirror, and Francesca stood by, a portrait of quiet sophistication.

"Honestly, Eloise, if you take any longer, we might miss the entire affair," Benedict called out once more, his tone a playful blend of exasperation and affection. The sound of Eloise's door creaking open heralded her appearance, and Benedict couldn't help but flash a wry grin. "There you are," he remarked, his eyes scanning Eloise's ensemble with approval. "Ready to charm the ton, I presume?"

As the Bridgerton siblings gathered, the anticipation heightened. Carriages lined up outside the residence, their polished exteriors reflecting the warm glow of lanterns that adorned the Bridgerton driveway. Benedict, ever the courteous son, extended a gloved hand toward his mother, ready to assist her into the awaiting carriage.

However, Lady Violet Bridgerton gracefully declined his offer with a knowing smile. "My dear Benedict, I'm afraid I shall be joining you all a bit later. I've decided to wait and personally accompany Y/N tonight. It's her debut, after all, and a lady must make a striking entrance."

"Mother, are you certain?" he inquired, a mixture of curiosity and amusement in his voice. Lady Violet nodded, her eyes sparkling with maternal warmth. "Absolutely, my dear. It's a rare occasion for a debutante, especially one unfamiliar with the intricacies of London society. I want to ensure she feels welcomed and supported on this momentous night."

Benedict couldn't help but smile at his mother's kindness and sense of duty. "Very well, Mother. We shall eagerly await your arrival with Y/N. I'm sure the two of you will make quite the entrance." With a nod, Lady Violet gracefully withdrew from the immediate party, her gaze lingering for a moment on her children before she disappeared into the house once more.

As the carriage rolled smoothly through the gaslit streets of London, Benedict turned to his elder brother, Anthony, his curiosity evident in his expression. "Anthony, pray tell, who is this Y/N from the L/N family that Mother is so keen on escorting tonight? I don't recall her name being part of our usual social circles."

Anthony, ever the responsible head of the Bridgerton household, leaned back against his seat, his gaze momentarily distant. "Y/N is the sole inheritor of the L/N estate. Rumor has it that she's been residing in the countryside, managing the family affairs with a level of competence that has garnered admiration but has kept her out of the bustling whirl of London society."

Benedict's interest piqued, and he raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "The countryside, you say? What brings her to London now?" Anthony's expression shifted, a hint of something akin to speculation in his eyes. "It seems she's ready to make her debut, Benedict. Mother has taken it upon herself to introduce her to the ton, ensuring she navigates these waters with the grace befitting a Bridgerton affair. It's a rather unconventional entrance, but Mother has her reasons."

[theregencywriter]

Can I have one with benedict bridgerton x reader where reader is tired of waiting for Ben and starts talking to someone else and he gets so jealous he says something very mean to her and she doesn't talk to him for days cause she's embarrassed and hurt just angst to fluff please i absolutely love what you write 💙💙

ummmm YES! Love this request!!! if there are any other requests lmk! <3

Too Late - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Benedict Bridgerton took rest in the garden of the Bridgerton estate, enjoying the peaceful surroundings and the pleasant warmth of the afternoon sun. As he contemplated his latest artistic project, he heard footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, he saw his younger sister, Eloise Bridgerton, striding towards him with a mischievous smile on her face."Eloise," Benedict greeted her with a curious expression. "What brings you here? Are you in need of my artistic expertise?" He joked

Eloise chuckled and shook her head. "Not this time, dear brother. I have something entirely different to share with you." She pulled out a folded piece of paper from her pocket and waved it in the air. "The newest Lady Whistledown letter." Benedict's eyes widened with surprise and intrigue. Lady Whistledown, the mysterious gossip columnist whose scandalous writings had been the talk of London's high society, was a subject of fascination for many. Benedict was no exception, and he was always eager to learn about the latest scandal or gossip.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, reaching out to take the letter from Eloise's hand.

"I have my sources," Eloise replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "But I thought you might enjoy reading it before it circulates throughout the ton."

Benedict unfolded the letter and began to read, his gaze locked on the words that promised to reveal yet another tantalizing secret about the elite of London. Eloise watched him intently, waiting for his reaction.

My Dearest Readers,

It is with equal parts astonishment and excitement that I bring you the latest tidings from the intricate tapestry of London's high society. Prepare yourselves, for this revelation will surely set tongues wagging and hearts aflutter.

Lady Y/N, the epitome of grace and elegance, is rumoured to be on the cusp of matrimony. Yes, dear readers, you heard it right! The diamond of the ton, whose charm and allure have captivated many, has captured the heart of a mysterious Duke.

This news, I must confess, comes as a surprise to your ever-observant Lady Whistledown. For if there was ever a duo destined to find their way into each other's arms, it was Lady Y/N and the dashing Benedict Bridgerton. Their undeniable chemistry and shared adventures were the stuff of romantic tales whispered by the fireside.

Yet, it seems fate has played an unexpected hand, leaving our hearts in a state of sweet melancholy. While Lady Y/N's betrothal has not been publicly announced, my sources assure me that the Duke in question is a man of mystery, cloaked in shadows and secrecy. Who is he? What secrets lie beneath his enigmatic facade? Alas, I find myself yearning for answers just as much as you, dear readers.

But fear not, for your Lady Whistledown shall not rest until every detail is laid bare for your discerning eyes. I shall delve into the depths of this tantalizing affair, uncovering the truth that lies hidden within the shadows. Will Lady Y/N find lasting love and happiness with this mysterious Duke, or is there a twist yet to come in this tale of hearts entwined?

Only time will tell, my dear readers. Until then, keep your ears sharp and your eyes peeled, for the ever-watchful pen of Lady Whistledown shall guide you through the labyrinthine corridors of society, where secrets are whispered and hearts are laid bare.

Yours in Scandalous Intrigue,

Lady Whistledown

Eloise couldn't help but laugh, finding the situation rather amusing. "Can you believe it, Benedict?" she exclaimed, a hint of mischief in her voice. "Lady Whistledown thought you and Y/N would end up together! I must say, I never saw you that way."

Benedict's expression, however, darkened at Eloise's words. He felt a mixture of frustration and hurt, his feelings for Y/N suddenly laid bare. Without saying a word, he abruptly stood up, his face betraying his turmoil, and stormed off, leaving Eloise stunned and regretful for her words.

Realizing the impact of her lighthearted comment, Eloise hurriedly went after Benedict, hoping to mend the situation and offer an apology for her thoughtless remark. She found him in the nearby gazebo, his back turned towards her, his shoulders tense with unspoken emotions.

"Benedict," she called out softly, stepping into the gazebo. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. It was just a jest, and I didn't consider how it might affect you."

Benedict turned around, his gaze a mix of hurt and vulnerability. "Eloise, it's not just a jest," he replied, his voice heavy with emotion. "My feelings for Y/N are more than you realize, seemingly more than I realised. I must go and find y/n immediately"

Benedict stepped out of the carriage, his heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. In his hands, he held a small bouquet of flowers, hastily picked on his way to Y/N's house. Each delicate bloom represented a fragment of his affection, a silent declaration of his feelings.

As he approached the door, his mind replayed their interactions, the stolen glances and conversations that had left an indelible mark on his soul. He knew he couldn't ignore his emotions any longer; he had to be honest with himself and with Y/N. With a deep breath, Benedict raised his hand and rapped lightly on the door. The sound echoed through the corridor, heightening his anticipation. After what felt like an eternity, the door opened, and there stood Y/N, a look of surprise adorning her lovely features.

"Benedict," Y/N exclaimed, her eyes widening at the sight of him. "What a pleasant surprise! To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

Benedict's voice trembled slightly as he spoke, his words filled with a newfound determination. "Y/N, I... I couldn't stay silent any longer. These past weeks, I've realized that my feelings for you run deeper than mere friendship." He set the flowers down and took her hands in his.

Y/N's gaze softened, a glimmer of understanding shining in her eyes. "Oh, Benedict," she whispered, her voice filled with tenderness. "I've felt the same way, but I didn't know if you shared those sentiments." Benedict smiled as he gazed into her eyes, but after a moment her hands moved away. “But I’ve already accepted a proposal. More so for my family than myself but still, it’s too late”

Benedict's heart sank as Y/N's words reached his ears."Y/N," he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of regret and sorrow. "I... I had no idea. I never meant to wait too long or let this chance slip away." Y/N's expression softened, her eyes revealing a glimmer of sadness. "I know you didn't, Benedict. And perhaps we both made assumptions, hoping the other would make a move. But time got away from us."

She took a step away, her voice filled with a bittersweet resolve. "I couldn't bear the thought of losing my family's estate, Benedict. It has been in our family for generations, and I felt the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. An offer came, one that would secure our future and preserve what is dear to me."

Benedict nodded slowly, understanding the difficult choice she had faced. "Y/N, I never wished for you to sacrifice your happiness for the sake of duty. If only I had found the courage to express my feelings sooner..."

Y/N looked away, tears adorning the side of her cheek. "It is not your fault, Benedict. Love is a complicated dance, and sometimes the timing is simply not in our favour. But please know that my heart always held a special place for you."

A mix of emotions coursed through Benedict's veins—sadness, longing, and a tinge of acceptance. He swallowed the lump in his throat and mustered a faint smile. "I'm grateful for your honesty, Y/N. Though our paths may have diverged for now, I sincerely hope that you find the happiness and fulfillment you deserve."

Y/N nodded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "And I wish the same for you, Benedict. You deserve a love that is true and unwavering."

As the weight of their unspoken dreams hung in the air, they shared a tender moment of understanding. Though their hearts yearned for what could have been, they knew that life had taken them on different journeys, for better or worse.

With a final exchange of lingering glances, Benedict and Y/N silently acknowledged the choices that led them to this point. They embraced, holding on to the memories they had shared, cherishing the connection that time had forged between them.

And as they parted ways, they carried the bittersweet knowledge that sometimes, even the deepest love can succumb to the relentless march of circumstance. But the memory of their connection would forever linger, etched in their hearts as a testament to the unspoken bond that might have been.

[theregencywriter]

(9) A Gentleman's Pursuit - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

My Dearest Readers,

It appears that a long-awaited reconciliation is underway within the esteemed Bridgerton household. The tempestuous relationship between the eldest Bridgerton brother, Anthony, and his spirited sibling, Benedict, has been a topic of much speculation and gossip. However, I am delighted to report that the icy rift between these two gentlemen seems to be thawing, just in time for the grand ball taking place in their very own residence tonight.

Whispers in the social circles suggest that Anthony and Benedict have engaged in heartfelt conversations, seeking common ground and understanding. Their disagreements have given way to a newfound appreciation for each other's perspectives, and it seems that the bonds of brotherhood are being fortified once more. Such a reunion is a cause for celebration, as unity within the Bridgerton family has always been a matter of great importance to their beloved matriarch, Lady Violet.

As preparations for the ball reach a crescendo, one cannot help but anticipate the atmosphere of harmony and joy that will grace the event. The Bridgerton brothers, once divided, are now united in their shared purpose of hosting an exquisite evening of revelry and enchantment. It is a testament to the power of forgiveness and the strength of familial bonds.

Of course, dear readers, I shall keep a watchful eye on the developments of this captivating saga. Will the renewed harmony between Anthony and Benedict extend beyond the confines of the ballroom? Only time will reveal the depths of their reconciliation and whether it will withstand the tests of the outside world.

As the night unfolds, let us revel in the delights of the Bridgerton ball and witness the triumph of familial love and understanding. May this be an evening of joy, laughter, and newfound unity.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

--

Eloise and Y/N stood before the full-length mirror in Eloise's room, both clad in exquisite dresses, preparing for the much-anticipated ball. Eloise sighed and turned to Y/N, her expression filled with apprehension. "I can't help but feel a pang of resentment towards this whole courting business. It's as if society expects us to follow a script, to be pursued by suitors without considering our own desires."

Y/N nodded sympathetically, her eyes reflecting understanding. "I know how you feel, Eloise. It can be suffocating to have one's choices dictated by tradition and expectations. But perhaps we can find a way to navigate this season on our own terms."

Eloise smiled appreciatively, knowing that Y/N was a kindred spirit in their shared desire for independence. "You, my dear Y/N, seem to have caught the eye of many suitors. I can't help but wonder if there's a particular brother of the Bridgerton clan who has captured your heart."

Y/N blushed, trying to suppress a smile. "Oh, Eloise, you and your matchmaking schemes! But no, I assure you, my heart remains undecided. It's true that I have spent time with Benedict and have come to appreciate his company, but as for deeper feelings, I am still uncertain."

Eloise's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Uncertain, you say? Well, we shall see how the evening unfolds at the ball. Perhaps with Anthony temporarily out of the picture, Benedict will step up and seize the opportunity."

Y/N laughed, a mixture of amusement and disbelief in her voice. "Oh, Eloise, you do have an imagination! But let us not get ahead of ourselves. Tonight is about enjoying the festivities, dancing, and cherishing the freedom."

They shared a knowing glance. Together, they vowed to approach the ball with a sense of adventure and self-determination, ready to challenge the rigid expectations of society. As they made their way downstairs, anticipation in the air, Y/N couldn't help but wonder what the evening held in store. Would Benedict finally reveal his true intentions? Or would she find herself drawn to someone unexpected? Only time would tell, and for now, she was content to embrace the uncertainty and revel in the excitement of the approaching ball.

---

Y/N made her way downstairs, and as she reached the bottom, she noticed Violet Bridgerton overseeing the final preparations for the ball. Y/N approached her with a warm smile. "Ms. bridgerton, is there anything I can do to assist you?" Y/N offered, her voice filled with genuine eagerness.

Violet turned to face her, a hint of relief and gratitude in her eyes. "Oh, my dear Y/N, your timing is impeccable. I could use an extra pair of hands to arrange the flowers. Thank you for offering your help."Y/N nodded, her fingers delicately arranging blooms of vibrant colours. As they worked together, a comfortable silence enveloped them, a shared understanding between two women connected by the bonds of family.

Violet paused for a moment, studying Y/N with a gentle expression. "Y/N, I want you to know how much we value your presence in our lives. You have brought light and joy into our home. We would be proud to have you as part of our family."

Touched by Violet's words, Y/N felt a warmth spreading through her. She knew the Bridgertons had welcomed her with open arms, but to hear such heartfelt sentiments made her heart swell with gratitude.

"Violet, your kindness means the world to me," Y/N replied, her voice filled with sincerity. "The love and acceptance I have found within this family is something I treasure deeply. I am truly grateful." Violet smiled, her eyes sparkling with maternal affection. "You are deserving of every bit of love and happiness, my dear. Tonight, as we gather for the ball, remember that you have our unwavering support. Your choices and desires matter to us."

Y/N's heart swelled with a renewed sense of belonging. She had found a second family in the Bridgertons, a family that embraced her with open hearts and celebrated her individuality. As the final touches were made, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the evening ahead. With Violet by her side, Y/N knew she had found not only a guide and confidante but also a woman who believed in her and her journey towards independence.

As Y/N stood beside Violet, absorbed in their heartfelt conversation, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the foyer. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Eloise burst through the door, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and exasperation. "Y/N, come with me this instant!" Eloise exclaimed, her voice filled with urgency.

Surprised by Eloise's sudden appearance, Y/N allowed herself to be pulled along, her hand firmly clasped in Eloise's grip. Together, they ascended the staircase, their steps echoing in the quiet corridors. As they reached Eloise's room, Y/N noticed the array of dresses, accessories, and makeup scattered across the room. It was clear that Eloise needed help in preparing for the ball, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a mix of amusement and curiosity.

"Eloise, what's the rush?" Y/N asked, her voice laced with laughter. "Do you require assistance with your ensemble?"

Eloise huffed, her frustration apparent. "Yes, indeed! I cannot seem to decide on the perfect gown, and my hair refuses to cooperate. I need your keen eye and expert opinion, Y/N." Y/N couldn't help but smile at Eloise's dramatic flair. She knew that beneath her friends exasperation, there lay a genuine desire for everything to be perfect. Y/N stepped forward, ready to assist in any way she could.

"Alright, Eloise, let's tackle this together," Y/N said, her voice filled with determination. "We'll find the perfect dress and create a hairstyle that will leave everyone in awe. You'll be the belle of the ball." Eloise's eyes softened, a flicker of gratitude shining through. "Thank you, Y/N. I don't know what I would do without you. Sometimes, it feels overwhelming, being the centre of attention. But with you by my side, I feel more confident."

Y/N's heart swelled with warmth. She understood Eloise's struggle, the weight of societal expectations and the desire for autonomy. Together, they would navigate the challenges of the ball and support each other every step of the way. As they spent the next hours preparing, laughter and banter filled the room, dissipating any remaining tension. Y/N delighted in helping Eloise select the perfect gown, carefully arranging her hair in an elegant style that showcased her sister's natural beauty.

When the transformation was complete, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and joy. Eloise looked radiant, her confidence shining through. They linked arms, ready to descend the stairs and face the night that awaited them.

As they stepped into the ballroom, the sound of music and laughter filled the air. Y/N could not help but feel grateful for the bond she shared with Eloise, a friendship that transcended societal expectations and provided unwavering support. Hand in hand, they walked into the festivities, ready to create unforgettable memories and face whatever challenges lay ahead. United in their pursuit of individuality and independence, Y/N and Eloise stood side by side, ready to conquer the ball.

[theregencywriter]

(8) A Gentleman's Pursuit -Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Dearest Readers,

It seems that the Bridgerton brothers have found themselves entangled in a most unconventional dispute, and the subject of their contention? None other than the captivating Miss Y/N.

Whispers from the household suggest that Anthony and Benedict Bridgerton came to blows, their passions ignited by their conflicting affections for the enigmatic young lady. Eyewitnesses recount a tumultuous scene, where words escalated to actions and brotherly bonds were momentarily forgotten. But what could have driven these distinguished gentlemen to such extremes? It is said that Miss Y/N, with her charm and spirited nature, had inadvertently become the cause of this familial strife. Though the details remain shrouded in secrecy, one thing is certain: emotions ran high and blood was spilled.

In the aftermath of this fateful encounter, Y/N was seen attending to Benedict, her caring nature evident as she tended to his injuries. The servants' whispers and knowing glances have not gone unnoticed, leaving little doubt as to which Bridgerton brother has won the fair lady's heart.

Could this be the moment we have all been waiting for? Has Y/N made her choice, seemingly favouring the wounded and vulnerable Benedict over his elder brother? I shall leave you with these burning questions as I continue to unravel the tangled web of society's affairs.

Remember, dear readers, true love is never without its complications. In matters of the heart, it seems even the esteemed Bridgerton family is not immune to the follies and furies that passion brings.

Yours ever faithfully,

Lady Whistledown

--

Y/N entered the breakfast room, her gaze immediately drawn to Benedict's now bruised eye. Concern etched across her features, she instinctively took a step toward him, but her motion stalled as she noticed Anthony's piercing glare. Sensing the tension between the brothers, Y/N hesitated for a moment before choosing a seat further away from Benedict.

As she settled at the table, the room felt heavy with unspoken emotions. The once warm and inviting atmosphere had been replaced by an undercurrent of discord. Y/N's heart ached as she glanced between the Bridgerton brothers, caught in the midst of their rivalry over her affections.

Violet, ever perceptive, could no longer bear the strained atmosphere that hung in the room. With a determined expression, she spoke up, her voice carrying a mix of concern and authority. "Enough," Violet declared, her eyes shifting from Anthony to Benedict. "This tension between you two cannot go on. It's tearing our family apart."

Benedict, looking weary and defeated, attempted to interject, but Anthony, his anger still simmering, abruptly rose from his seat and stormed out of the room. The door echoed with his departure, leaving a palpable void in his wake. As the silence settled, Benedict's gaze followed his brother's path before he sighed heavily, resigned to the situation. Feeling the weight of the conflict, he quietly excused himself and retreated to his room, seeking solace and reflection.

Left in the wake of their turmoil, Y/N felt a pang of sadness and helplessness. She wished for a resolution, for the harmony that had once graced the Bridgerton household to be restored. But it seemed that the rift between the brothers was deeper than she could have anticipated.

She turned her attention to Violet, who wore a troubled expression. Y/N could see the worry etched on her face, the concern for her sons and the wellbeing of their family. It was clear that Violet longed for peace and unity as much as anyone.

Violet Bridgerton watched the retreating figures of her son, Anthony, and the solemn departure of Benedict. Concern etched deeply into her features as she contemplated the rift that had formed between her beloved children. It was a burden she could no longer bear in silence. Turning her attention to Y/N, who sat nearby with a heavy heart, Violet reached out and gently touched her hand. Her voice carried a mixture of motherly affection and an urgent plea.

"Y/N, my dear," Violet said, her voice tinged with both worry and hope. "Would you be willing to talk to Anthony? Perhaps your words can reach him, where mine seem to fall short. We need him to understand the importance of healing our family." Y/N met Violet's gaze, sensing the weight of her request. Understanding the gravity of the situation and the importance of familial unity, she nodded with a determined look in her eyes.

"I will speak to him, Lady Bridgerton," Y/N replied, her voice steady and resolute. "I'll do my best to help him see reason and find a way to bridge the divide."

Violet offered a grateful smile, her eyes shimmering with gratitude. "Thank you, Y/N," she whispered. "Your presence has brought a light to our lives, and I believe you have the power to bring it back."

With a sense of purpose, Y/N rose from her seat, ready to face the challenging task ahead. She felt the weight of responsibility upon her shoulders, knowing that her words could potentially mend the fragile bonds of the Bridgerton family.

As she walked away, Y/N carried with her a flicker of hope. Hope that through open dialogue, understanding, and a touch of compassion, the love that had been overshadowed by discord could once again shine brightly within the walls of the Bridgerton household.

--

"Anthony!" Y/N called out, her voice filled with a mix of urgency and determination. She quickened her pace, closing the distance between them as she reached out a hand to touch his arm, silently pleading for him to halt. Anthony turned around, his features reflecting a mix of surprise and reluctance. He had expected Y/N to keep her distance after the altercation, but her persistence caught him off guard. He waited, reluctantly, as she caught up to him.

"Please, Anthony," Y/N implored, her voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "Let's talk. We cannot let this divide us any longer. Your family needs us to find a resolution."

Anthony's gaze softened as he looked into her eyes, searching for answers and reassurance. He had grown accustomed to shielding himself from vulnerability, but Y/N's unwavering presence compelled him to let his guard down. With a sigh, Anthony nodded, reluctantly agreeing to the conversation she sought. "Very well," he said, his voice tinged with a mix of resignation and hope. "Let's find a quiet spot where we can speak privately."

Together, they veered away from the crowded paths of the estate, seeking solace amidst the serenity of the garden. As they walked, Y/N's heart raced with a mix of trepidation and determination, knowing that the words she would share held the power to shape their future.

They found a secluded bench nestled beneath a blossoming tree, the fragrant petals drifting gently through the air around them. Anthony's voice trembled slightly as he revealed the haunting memory that had shaped his view on love and marriage. "I was faced with an impossible choice when my father passed," He confessed, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "I had to decide between saving my mother or the child she carried, a sibling I might have never known. In that moment, I realized the weight of responsibility and the potential heartbreak that accompanies love."

Y/N listened intently, her heart aching for the pain Anthony had carried within him for so long. She reached out, her hand finding his and offering solace in her touch. "I understand your fears, Anthony," Y/N said gently, her voice filled with compassion. "But love doesn't have to be synonymous with heartbreak or impossible choices. It can be a source of strength and support, a partnership where both parties uplift and care for each other."

Anthony looked into her eyes, a mixture of vulnerability and realization crossing his features. "You're right," he murmured, his voice laced with a newfound conviction. "I have been holding onto a skewed perception of love, one born out of fear and pain. But I see now that I should aspire to find a love that brings joy, not sorrow." Their conversation continued, unravelling layers of vulnerability, doubts, and hopes. Anthony opened himself up to the possibility of a genuine connection, of a love that transcended duty and expectation. In that intimate space, they shared their dreams, their fears, and their aspirations.

As the conversation drew to a close, Y/N smiled softly, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "Anthony, I believe it's time to apologize to Benedict," she suggested, her voice gentle but firm. "He deserves to hear your truth and to see the growth and change within you." Anthony nodded, his expression a mix of gratitude and determination. "You're right, Y/N," he acknowledged, his voice filled with sincerity. "I need to make amends and show him that I've learned from my mistakes."

With newfound clarity and a renewed sense of purpose, Anthony and Y/N rose from the bench, their hands still intertwined. Together, they walked back to the Bridgerton residence, ready to confront their family, their past actions, and to pave the way for a future.

---

Anthony made his way to Benedict's room. He paused outside the closed door, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and summon the courage to face his brother. The weight of his actions and the pain he had caused Benedict weighed heavily on his conscience. As he entered the room, Anthony found Benedict sitting by the window, lost in his own thoughts. Benedict's eyes flickered with surprise and guarded caution as Anthony approached, unsure of his brother's intentions.

"Benedict," Anthony began, his voice filled with sincerity and regret. "I have come to apologize, truly and deeply, for my actions and the way I have made you feel."

Benedict glanced up, his expression softening as he listened to his brother's words. He remained silent, giving Anthony the opportunity to continue. "I see now that I have been blind to the pain I have caused you," Anthony continued, his voice tinged with remorse. "I allowed my own fears and insecurities to cloud my judgment and hurt the one person I care about deeply. I should have respected your feelings and supported your connection with Y/N."

Benedict's gaze softened, and he nodded slowly, accepting Anthony's words. "It hurt, Anthony," he admitted, his voice carrying a trace of vulnerability. "But I also understand the struggle you faced. We are brothers, and love should never be a competition between us."

Anthony's shoulders sagged with relief, grateful for Benedict's understanding. "Thank you, Benedict," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." Benedict's eyes met Anthony's, the weight of their shared history and bond shining through. "I forgive you, Anthony," he said, his voice carrying the weight of their brotherly love. "Let us move forward and support one another, for the sake of our family and our happiness."

As the two brothers embraced, a sense of healing and reconciliation washed over them. They had weathered a storm of misunderstandings and hurt, but their bond remained unbreakable. United in their love for each other and their desire for Y/N's happiness, they set aside their differences and began to rebuild the bridges that had been strained.