#Benedict Bridgerton x f!reader

[madhattervanessa]

...and Lady’s Slipper

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f!Reader

Summary: After the ball, you and Benedict make haste to show each other just how much you have missed each other in the off season.

Warnings: Smut!, Creampie but kind of with protection- otherwise, you’re good

Words: 2654

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He helps you out of the carriage at the final destination. The cool evening air is a brief shock, conversation and wine had previously made the air feel much warmer. You lift your hand from Benedict’s grasp as you let your eyes climb the building in front of you.

“This is Anthony’s bachelor apartment, is it not?”

Benedict’s brows jump and furrow in quick succession and you know that quirk of his lips, having caught his train of thought before he can return his expression to that handsome and appeasing smile. 

“Oh don’t look at me like that, Benedict. We both know I simply do not have the time for two Bridgerton pups at the hem of my skirt.”

You stride forwards to the door with him close behind. You wait for him on the stoop, brows raised as he opens and closes his mouth, one foot already on the steps as he looks at you.

“I did not-”, he stops before he reaches your side, the key already in hand. He sighs, turning the key over in his hand. “I apologize.”

“You never were good at hiding your thoughts.” Your soft, teasing tone makes the tension in his shoulders ebb. You wish you could reach out to soothingly rub his back but his handyman is still watching the two of you.

“I hope you accept my apology.”

"I do. Don't worry about it."

He opens the door to the house and quickly ushers you up the few flights of stairs.

He gently grasps your arm as you pass another door to make you stop in front of the right one. You bump into him and giggle, eliciting a quiet laugh from him before he shushes you.

You get lost in the way the corners of his eyes crinkle as he does and lean into him, still smiling as you press a kiss to his lips.

He raises his hand to your chin and tugs you closer, his nose nudged against yours as he returns the kiss with a sigh.

He barely parts from you as he speaks again in a hushed voice.

“Darling- let us get inside, at least.”

“I am waiting for you”, you mutter before pressing another kiss to his lips. He wraps his arm around your waist and all but lifts you off of your feet with this one. He presses you against the door and you gasp as you collide with the hard wood. He uses your parted lips to his advantage to indulge in another deep kiss, his tongue brushing against yours.

Suddenly, the door behind you gives. Instead of gracelessly falling, Benedict hauls you against him, actually lifting you this time and managing to pin you to the other side of the door, his hands quickly locking it. 

As soon as the safe cocoon of the apartment surrounds you, you both leave what little inhibitions you still had, behind. His lips quickly move from yours, down your jaw, to your neck.

“I’ve missed you, greatly, darling, like the flowers in spring yearning for the first showing of sun.”

You laugh, breathlessly, your eyes opening slightly to watch as he adorns the swell of your breasts with gentle kisses. His warm hands splay over your back, wandering freely as you melt against him.

“Benedict- I… I have missed you, as well, but please, let's try to get to bed”, you manage to whisper. He looks up at you and before you know it, he lifts you off of your feet to carry you into the next room. You press another kiss to his jaw, your eyes flitting around the rooms you’re being carried through.

He lets you down in one of the largest rooms: One of the walls is completely filled with a bookshelf, and your eyes stick to a beautiful chaise near it. You’re set down close to it, and while Ben sits down behind you, you are distracted by the bookshelf spanning the wall opposite of you. You distantly feel him kissing the nape of your neck just as you spot the easel and the table next to it with bunches of papers and sketches.

“Is that yours?” You are quick to escape his grip to pick up the sketchbook on the table, your fingers already working the leather bindings open to manage a peek inside.

He sighs and you sneak a glance at him on the chaise over the pages you thumb through them - beautiful still lives, a few sketches of Anthony, his youngest siblings in the garden or Daphne at the piano forte. 

“Maybe. Yes. Yes, but they are nothing important-”

Nestled in between the bound pages are loose papers and you remember quite a few of those days in quite different context than depicted - that is, until you turn towards the back of the sketchbook and oh, those you do remember quite well.

You meet his gaze and he stays pinned in his spot, his eyes nervously flitting back and forth between you and the paper.

“What is this, Benedict?”

“Sketches”, he very flatly states, swallowing hard as you smirk at him.

“I should hope this is a private sketchbook and not one you think of preparing for being granted access to an art school.”

You let your fingers drag over one of the flowers sketched next to your likeness - peonies, beautifully captured after several attempts scattered around other pages.

“It seems you have paid quite some attention to my constant blabbering concerning my work.”

“Now you are insulting the both of us”, he scoffs and turns towards the decanter and glasses on the table next to him. He gently fills two glasses as he watches you casting critical looks onto the pages in front of you.

You smile at the way he had taken to freely filling your glass with whatever hard liquor Anthony seemed to spoil his brother and himself with - a delicacy for you, something you would never drink in public or in front of your father.

“You are not just blabbering”, he starts before turning towards you. He hands you one of the glasses and gently clinks them together before you both take a small sip. You hum at the taste and lick over your lips briefly before turning towards the chaise in the room.

“And these are quite beautiful.”

“You flatter me.”

“What can I say, other than that I like stroking your ego from time to time.” 

He shoots you an amused look before walking over towards the empty easel to put a canvas on it.

“Would you like to try?”

You hum, intrigued by the offer, and take another sip of your drink before you join him.

“I’m not sure my hand is worthy of such a big canvas”, you murmur as you stare at the blank space. 

“Then start small.”

He hands you a small piece of coal before pulling you towards his chest. He lets his chin rest on your shoulder, an inquisitive brow raised at the canvas as you lift your hand. 

You think of the flowers of the night’s arrangement and start trying to get their shape onto the canvas.

He sits, patiently, occasionally sipping from his glass or pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

They don't come out quite right, yet you keep going until there is a diagonal arrangement of them decorating the canvas.

"You should consider taking lessons, young Miss. We might still make a painter out if you", he drawls against your ear.

You giggle, quite unladylike, if you recall the words of your late governess correctly.

"Just this evening you called me an artist." You turn your head towards him and your noses brush. 

"You are. But there is no shame in broadening one's horizon."

He nudges his nose forwards and your lips touch, barely. Your breath hitches and you close your eyes. 

"Is that our plan for the rest of the evening or are you going to tutor me instead, Mister Bridgerton?"

He bites at your lip and your heart slams against your throat.

"I seem to remember someone becoming very distracted by my sketchbook while I was attempting to do something else entirely."

"They are very enthralling."

"I shall make sure to invite you to one of mister Granville's… outings. So you may admire the art. But for now", he takes the glass of liquor from your hand and sets it next to his own on the table next to you. When he turns back, his arms wrap around you entirely, his nose pressed against your cheek. "Let us finally retire to bed, darling."

He makes you stand and turns you in his arms. You lean in for a kiss. He returns it, softly, his hands gently guiding you backwards through the apartment. 

"I have missed you. Every day."

You laugh quietly into the kiss before letting him move on.

"You already told me", you whisper and he acknowledges it with barely a hum. 

He stops you and his fingers go to open the front of your dress. You reach for the back but he simply turns you again, his fingers making quick work of the buttons and ribbons as his mouth attaches to your neck.

As soon as your dress falls, you reach for him. Your lips meet wetly and you feel his tongue nudge against yours.

You both gasp when you fall onto the bed. A mess of hands and fabrics ensues. When you finally manage to take his shirt off, you meet eyes in relief. He buries his nose in your neck and you feel a pleasant tingle at his needy inhale against your skin.

You turn your head and tug the lobe of his ear into your mouth, biting softly at it and the shuddering moan that he breathes against you is exhilarating. 

"Ben- please-"

He is all but ripping his pants off, panting into your neck as he pulls them down. You lean up onto your elbows, one of your hands helping to push the fabric off.

"You're still taking that tea?" He mutters, already kissing you again, stealing your breath.

"Yes, of course", you whisper back between kisses, the wetness on your lip tingling as you speak. Your eyes meet, conspiratorially.  

"I missed you", he admits, again, his arms pushing your legs up until they are resting in his elbows. The tension makes you blush, even more as you watch him swipe the length of his cock through your wet folds, coming away glistening- his lips part and you grasp his shoulders, feeling an overwhelming need to have his mouth back on yours. He kisses you deeply, muffling your moan as he stretches you with his cock.

You dig your nails into his skin. Any attempt to roll your hips into his is fruitless, his hand and arms keeping you perfectly still as he thrusts into you.

Your hands fall to the sheets and you fist the soft fabric when Benedict covers your body with his, his hips rolling into yours relentlessly, drawing moans out of you that you can’t hide. 

"This is just the way you like it, yes?", he groans and you throw your head back. He follows with his lips close to your ear. "Tell me." He doesn’t leave you any room to breathe, kissing you more and dragging his tongue over yours as he plunges his cock into you. You writhe underneath him and he parts before repeating his demand for an answer in another whisper close to your lips.

"God, yes, please don't stop", you gasp. 

“Say it again.”

“Don’t stop- please.”

You happily let yourself be buried underneath him as he presses you into the mattress with his weight, his thrusts growing harsh.

"I'm not going to last-"

"I don't care", you gasp and tug on his hair, exposing his throat to you. He groans when your lips meet his neck, his hand underneath your thighs gripping harder until you bite at him.

His thrusts send you up on the mattress, two, three, until he smacks his hand against the headboard and you feel him spill inside of you.

You both breathe heavily, your teeth still dug into his neck when he loosens his grip on you. You gasp and let your head fall back while he kisses your brow. He lavishes your chest with more of his kisses and you frown before opening your eyes to stare at the ceiling. His lips keep wandering and you gasp when he reaches your hip but continues lower.

“Ben- what are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he latches his lips to where he had been fucking into you just moments ago. You all but sit upright at the warm shock of it; your hands reach into his hair immediately before you level a look at him.

He has closed his eyes, brows furrowed as he licks into you.

“That’s- too much- Ben, it’s too much”, you sigh and he lifts his face off of you for a moment, pressing a sticky kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“I just wanted a taste, dearest.”

He lays down beside you, an arm already extending to fall around your shoulders and you squirm away from him.

"You are hot as an oven, Ben, get off-", you laugh but he is ruthless and tugs your naked body back to him until you're draped over his chest.

"Come here."

You melt into him as he splays his fingers over the back of your neck. The gentle motion makes your eyelids droop and you can hear him murmur something but sleep takes you before you can think about answering him.

-

You blink against the sun falling through the window as you wake up. Your eyebrows twitch as you stretch your legs, the evening slowly coming back to you.

Behind you, Benedict has buried his nose deep in your neck, his arms wound around your waist. As you move your hips a bit, he huffs and immediately tugs you back towards him.

“Just a moment longer, dearest. Then we can discuss your plans for the day, yes?”, he murmurs, his lips pressing another kiss to your neck.

You sigh but smile anyways, happily letting him nip and kiss at your neck. Your eyes follow the sunbeams towards the window where the curtains gently sway with the breeze.

You turn your head towards him and he grumbles. As he lifts his head to kiss you, you both hear the lock of the front door rattling loudly.

Benedict parts from you and curses under his breath. He kicks the covers off immediately, continuously cussing, only stopping to cover you with the bedding again. 

You watch with great amusement as he stumbles out of bed and scrambles to get into his pants. As you sit up in the bed, careful to cover your chest as you do, the culprit of the interruption finally exposes himself.

“Benedict- brother, where are you? I heard you came here last night, I need you for something!”

You let your head fall back with a big grin, more amused than embarrassed. Much like with his mother, there was seldom anything that could get past the Viscount Anthony Bridgerton.

“Ben.” He turns towards you, his head just passed through the collar of his shirt.

You crook your finger at him and after a short, panicked look towards the door where Anthony can be heard muttering to himself, he walks over to you. You drag him into a searing kiss by the collar of his shirt.

He grunts but a short, soft noise follows as you lick over his lip.

When you part, his eyes seem to light up before he turns towards the door.

“I’ll return shortly.”

You hum, delighted at the sight of his flushed cheeks as you watch him peek out of the door.

He throws another wink at you before slipping out and greeting his brother.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x f!reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton fic

[strwbrrykss]

𝖇𝖊𝖌𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖌 | 𝖇. 𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖌𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖔𝖓

{𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕} 𝑫𝒂𝒚 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆: Begging 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓: Benedict Bridgerton 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: THIS IS AN 18+/MDNI EVENT, language, Benedict is a SIMP, sub!Ben (ish), begging on hands and knees, oral (f), a lot of pussy worship, if I missed anythink lmk!

[A/N: Day 3 and this has been my favourite so far! please, please pretty please let me know what you think - reblogs, comments, asks, etc! I’m so excited to be apart of this event for the first time and I’d love to know how I’m doing :) feedback is gold! x - L]

                                                       -/-/-

“Darling, what ever is the matter with you tonight?” you asked, hushed and turned away from the swell of people in front of you. Benedict’s reply first came from his eyes; big and shiny under the lights of the ballroom. Then he opened his mouth.

“You’re looking exceptionally divine tonight, my love. I’m beginning to feel as though we may need to retire early for the evening...” he replied softly, being sure not to speak too loudly, or risk being heard.

“Benedict Bridgerton, your mother -”

“- Is nowhere near us, thank God. So let’s make our getaway,” he insisted, the desperation clear in his eyes as he let them wander over your form. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Ms Delacroix had gone above and beyond with your gown for the evening, but you still weren’t sure you should give in so easily.

“I’m not ready to go home yet,” you stated calmly, though the expression on your face as you took a sip from your glass had him letting out a hefty sigh.

“Dove -” You put a hand to his chest, stopping his advance from getting any closer. Benedict pouted and you tried your hardest to conceal your amusement.

“Ask for the carriage, I’m going to make one last round.” With a chaste kiss on your cheek, he hurried off - though he seemed to remember where he was and regained some composure - towards the door.

“Y/N, are you leaving so soon?” Simon’s question caught you by surprise as you rid yourself of the almost empty glass and readied yourself to say your goodbyes for the night.

“Well, we have a busy day tomorrow and Benedict -” Simon’s eyebrow quirked at the mention of your husband’s name “- Isn’t feeling well.” The way you punctuated your words with a swift tap to his arm made him chuckle, bemused.

“I see. Well, I’ll let you go. Give him my regards and well-wishes. I’m sure he needs the rest.” With a final pointed look at your friend, you carried on about your endeavour, knowing that Benedict would be wearing a hole in the floor with how long you were going to take.

“My love, what took you so long?” Benedict practically whined as you finally climbed into the carriage and settled into your seat next to him. He put an arm around your waist to pull you as close to his side as possible.

“There were a lot of people that I wanted to say goodbye to.” He leaned in, nosing against your ear before resting his head against your temple, hot breathe fanning across your cheek.

“So you’d leave me to burn in my desire whilst you took your time exchanging last pleasantries without so much as a second thought?” You hummed in reply and turned your head ever so slightly, enthralled by the proximity between the two of you.

“You’d wait and burn all night if I so wished it, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything for you, my love...” The - mercifully short - carriage ride back to Aubrey Hall was filled with such intimate conversations between the two of you, Benedict continued to profess and beg, growing more desperate with each torturous minute that passed.

It was a tumultuous rush from the front door to your shared bedroom. Whilst you tried to remain composed in the presence of the house staff, the way Benedict pursued you through the halls made you giddy and full of laughter.

“Benedict, please -” you gasped as he pinned you behind a marble column and pressed hot kisses to your neck and jaw. You could feel his smug grin against your flushed skin and the weight of his hands on your waist.

“I can’t wait any longer...” You eased him off and the look he gave you sent a torrent of butterflies through your stomach.

“Our room is just five steps away. Are you really so desperate?”

“You can hardly blame me! I swear you and Ms Delacroix are going to send me to my grave if you keep asking for dresses as... Exquisite as this one.”

“I’m glad you like it. But my point remains - our bedroom is right there.” With a disgruntled sigh Benedict gave in, but no sooner had the door shut behind you, he wasted no time in getting undressed.

Thankfully, you’d had the foresight to ask for a dress that was easy to undo and Ms Delacroix had obliged with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. Benedict was down to just his undergarments in a matter of minutes. You on the other hand, were taking your time.

“Darling,” Benedict pleaded softly, slowly sinking to his knees in front of you as you remained at the foot of the bed. It was a sight to behold - your husband, in all his glory, at your feet, looking up at you as though you hung the stars in the sky.

“My love?”

“Please - please let me taste you.” Begging had never sounded so good before. You pretended to think about it for a moment, despite him all but tugging at the underskirt of your dress.

“If you insist,” you replied with an arched eyebrow, teasing him further. Eager, he stood up and began undoing the pearl buttons down the back of your dress. Benedict untied, unclasped and removed every layer with a gentleness that always made you flush with heat and lose your train of thought.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Dove?” Benedict’s voice was soft and low in your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder for a brief moment. Warm skin on skin made your eyes flutter closed.

“I think I have a vague idea...” you replied, equally as hushed before you were ushered back onto the bed, the last of your clothing cast aside unceremoniously.

“You really are divine. I’ll be sure to thank whatever stars guided you to me,” he spoke quietly, eyes shining with adoration as his lips ghosted over yours. The skirt of the chemise you were left in was bunched up around your ribs. Benedict smiled up at you, eyes sparkling with mischief before he hitched your thighs over his shoulders.

As always, he took his time to savour your taste and every moan, sigh and whimper he managed to draw out of you. With your head thrown back against the pillows and your fingers in his hair, you were lost to the world and overtaken by nothing but complete, blinding pleasure.

“Oh - Oh! Benedict -” He latched onto your clit with more enthusiasm than he’d shown all night and made you arch slightly off the mattress, overcome with a weightless euphoria.

So far in your brief, but blissful marriage, you’d discovered how quickly Benedict learned and remembered. It definitely proved to be true at times like this, as he pulled out every trick he knew that would have you crying his name for the house staff to hear.

Knuckles turned white as you gripped the sheets, so lost in chasing your high that you no longer cared for how loud you were being, only intent on letting Benedict know how good he was making you feel. When he added a slender digit to your aching folds, he knew how to find that spot that made you fall apart.

And with a broken cry that melted into a whimper and a whine, you came. Loud and hard. Benedict carried on for a few moments more, until tears sprung to your eyes and you were trying to get out of his grasp.

“Benedict - Ben! Please,” you pleaded with a raw, overstimulated sob, though he seemed to be fixated on continuing for a moment or two more before relenting.

“My love?” He raised his head to look at you, resting his head against your thigh, a brow raised in concern and curiosity.

“I’m okay - but that was getting too much,” you explained, breathless and flushed with heat. With an apologetic grin he removed himself from between your thighs and settled against your side, chin tucked onto your shoulder from behind.

“I just couldn’t help myself... Thank you, Dove.”

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x wife!reader #sub!benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x f!reader #kinktober 2022 #day 3 #strwbrrykss writes

[pagesfromthevoid]

You are right! High with Eloise will be so funny and Benedict trying to be the responsible adult 😂

Whatever the Poets Say | b.b. | 11

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Drug use lol

Author’s Note: A bit short but enjoy (ノ‥)ノ

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

Even the barest of touches lights my heart into an inferno that I cannot extinguish. Love and grief are an odd couple, of which I cannot escape. If I could, life would be that much easier. But alas, life is not easy and grief does not simply disappear. It can be healed, and it can be wrapped up tight to help keep the pain from seeping through. But the only thing that can keep grief at bay is the love one shares with another.

Whatever the Poets Say, by an Anonymous Young Woman

“Oh hell.”

“Benedict!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together with an excitable giggle. Eloise waved lazily from her spot on the couch, smiling at her brother.

Benedict looked between the two young women and the tea cups on the table, quickly putting two and two together. Lord Everly appeared behind Benedict, peering over his shoulder. The older gentleman stifled a laugh, shaking his head.

“Oh dear,” Lord Everly chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Father, you came as well,” she giggled again, sitting up a bit straighter –or attempting to, at least. “We were just about to have a tea party –isn’t that right, Eloise?”

“Oh very right,” Eloise confirmed, pushing herself upright as well. “Would you care to join us?”

Benedict looked to Lord Everly, who didn’t seem phased by how intoxicated either woman was. Truth to be told, Lord Everly seemed almost delighted at the sight, like it was the funniest thing he’d seen in ages. 

“I would love to join you,” Lord Everly started, but he gave them both an apologetic bow. “But I do believe I need to find Lady Bridgerton before she catches you two like this. Benedict will join you, though.”

“No, sir, I really –”

“Nonsense, someone needs to ensure these lovely dears are taken care of.”

Lord Everly patted Benedict on the back before making his exit, leaving Benedict in the sitting room with Eloise and her. He covered his face with his hand, watching as she pulled out her notebook and flipped frantically through the pages. 

“You cannot possibly be writing gossip now!” Eloise exclaimed, snagging the book from her hands.

“Gossip?” She asked curiously, peering over at Eloise. “I do not write gossip, Ellie. I write romance.”

Benedict frowned now as he hurriedly moved to take the book from Eloise, trying to prevent her from reading anything too…personal about his fiancee and his activities. She wrote about him; he knew that very well. Benedict certainly didn’t need his baby sister reading anything about his personal life. 

“Nonsense,” Eloise huffed, laying back on the couch and holding the book over her head. She dodged Benedict as he tried to take it from her. “You are always writing. I think you must be Lady Whistledown.”

“If anyone is talking nonsense, it’s you,” Benedict insisted, taking the book from his sister finally. He held it tight behind his back, refusing to let either of them have it back. “You two need to get upstairs before mother returns with everyone else.” 

“Benedict, you cannot be in here alone with Miss Everly,” Eloise insisted, sitting up again. She swayed a little bit.

“This is certainly not the worst thing we have done alone,” she countered, running her hands over her skirts with a hum. “Have you ever actually felt the silk of our skirts, Ellie? It’s so…it’s so soft.”

Eloise didn’t even comment on what she was implying, instead more focused on touching her own skirt with an excited gasp. “It is!”

“Benedict, come feel this –”

“Absolutely not,” he insisted, taking her hands gently to pull her up. “Please, you two. Let’s go upstairs. We can talk about silk and tea parties and gossip –let’s just go upstairs to do so.”

Both women hummed in response as Benedict helped her up from the couch. Eloise pushed his hands away as he offered to help her, standing on her own. She swayed on her feet, clutching her brother’s arm to keep steady. Getting upstairs would be an absolute nightmare, he decided, as he guided his fiancée through the doors. He was lucky that no one else was home yet –God bless Lord Everly, honestly. 

As Benedict guided both up the stairs –agonizingly slow –he kept a close eye on them. What he didn’t need was either of them falling down the stairs; as if that would be easy to explain. Or safe. She was clinging to his right arm as Eloise hung off his left, and he thanked God when they reached the top. Eloise released him to march to her bedroom, though she stopped to twirl once on her toes and explain how delightful it was that her dress twirled with her. His fiancée released his arm next, following suit in excitement as she noticed the same thing.

“You and I have never danced, you know,” she suddenly pointed out, hands on her hips as she faced him. “You asked me to save you a dance the very first time we met and then we never did. I waited all night and saved my last dance for you.”

Benedict raised a brow as he ushered her backwards towards Eloise’s room. But she stood firm, looking up at him.

“I had to give up my last dance to Anthony,” she explained, but then her expression turned thoughtful. “We did not dance, but you did listen to me that night. Do you know how wonderful it was, to have someone like you simply listen to someone like me?”

He smiled softly down at her, reaching up to push a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I do, actually. You listened to me as well, you know.”

“We still didn’t dance, though,” she reminded him, poking the tip of his nose gently. 

Benedict chuckled, shaking his head. “I will happily dance with you every day for the rest of our lives –but you need to get some rest with Eloise first.”

“I do not want to rest with Ellie. I want to rest with you,” she pouted, reaching up to rest her hands on his chest. 

Benedict took a deep breath, ignoring the way her touch burned through his shirt. “If we were at your home, perhaps. But we are here, in my home, and we will certainly be caught here.”

“Oh the tragedy,” she sighed dramatically, resting the back of her hand against her forehead. “Whatever shall we do if we must marry tomorrow instead of in three weeks?”

“You, my love, are a menace to society,” Benedict teased, pushing her back into Eloise’s room. “Get some rest; we can talk about what happened today later.”

She stared up at him, her eyes wide as she considered his proposal. Then she nodded slowly, sighing heavily. “I wish I did not feel so bad about marrying you, Benedict.  I love you too much to feel so guilty.”

As he opened his mouth to ask her what she meant, she yawned and shut the door behind her, bidding him good evening. Benedict stared at the door, brow furrowed as he tried to understand what she meant about feeling bad about marrying him. He thought that’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? To marry him? To love him? Why would she feel bad about that?

                                            *****

What a truly terrible idea that tea was, she decided.

She woke up in a pile of pillows and blankets, in a bedroom that certainly was not hers. Eloise was snoring from the bed, still dressed in her clothes from earlier. She was also still in her gown and slippers, though she was certain her hair was a mess and her skirts wrinkled as she sat up. Her head ached, as if she had run head first into a wall, and her back hurt from laying on the floor for God knows how long.

“Eloise,” she whisper-yelled, trying to wake her future sister-in-law. Eloise did not stir so she threw a pillow at her on the bed. “Eloise, wake up!”

Eloise shot up, taken aback by the sudden attack of pillows. She groaned now, holding her head in her hand, as she looked at the floor. “Oh dear God, what did we do?”

“Made fools of ourselves, I’m certain,” she responded, slowly pushing herself up off the floor. “You put far too much of that powder into our tea, I think.”

“I think so too,” Eloise agreed, rubbing her face with her hands gently. “What time is it?” 

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, looking in the mirror to try to fix her hair. “It’s almost dark, so I assume it must be dusk at the very least.”

Eloise peered out the window from her bed, squinting through tired eyes. “I wonder what everyone thinks happened to us.”

She thought back to the last few hours prior to falling asleep, trying to recall what exactly had happened. She remembered her father and Benedict showing up, and she recalled Benedict trying to get them upstairs. But everything else seemed a bit hazy and confusing right up until she had fallen asleep. Benedict would be sure to tease them both, she was sure of it.

“I suppose we have to go find out, don’t we?” She asked, determining that this was the best her hair was going to look after sleeping on the floor.

“Mother will be thrilled, I’m sure.”

“Truthfully, I think my father will find it amusing.”

“Of course he will,” Eloise laughed, standing from her bed now to fix her own hair. “He finds amusement in everything he experiences.”

“One could learn a thing or two from that, you know,” she pointed out, checking over herself to make sure she was presentable. 

“One could learn a thing or two from what we just experienced as well.”

“This is also true.”

———

Taglist: @queensgirl718 @drowninginaseaofbooks

#benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #Benedict Bridgerton #Benedict Bridgerton x f!reader #Bridgerton

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Precious Truths: Part I

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you've been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month's time.

Ever since you were little, you found solace in poetry. Your mother highly encouraged your governess to have you read any and every poetry book that was ever made. The imagery and feelings it produced was something you never experienced before.

After your mother died, your father forbade you from reading poetry. He forbade you for ever mentioning your mother again. Their love was strong and true. As a result, it caused your father deep heartache. He became cold, heartless, and cruel. A drunkard and a gambler. Fortunately, his sister, your aunt, had moved in and became lady of the house. She became your mother figure, but she could only do so much.

She snuck you poetry books when she could. The words now being the only part of your mother you had to connect to.

Because of this love, you began to write poetry yourself. You only ever shared it to your aunt and friend, Kate Bridgerton nee Sharma, another lover of stories and poetry. Both having expressed their hopes of you publishing your writing some day.

"Maybe some day," you'd always say.

What they didn't know was that you did publish your poems. You went under a man's pseudonym, Arthur Talbot. His poetry books were becoming popular among the ton and it brought you joy and a sense of thrill whenever someone mentioned his name to you.

You'd recite your his poetry readings held at Lady Danbury's often. Everyone was always in awe of how the words poured out of you with intense and deep emotion.

But the one who was most taken with them and you, was none other than Benedict Bridgerton.

_______________________

The small group break out into applause and you curtsy. Lady Danbury walks up to you with a proud grin on her face, "Another splendid performance, Miss L/N. I can tell you deeply resonate with Talbot. "

You bow, "Thank you, Lady Danbury. His words mean a lot to me. It's as if he and I are one." You hold back a laugh as you express your gratitude to the hostess.

"Well, I think this calls for a break," the older woman turns to face her guests, "Everyone please enjoy some refreshments."

People begin to disperse, leaving the sitting room for other parts of the Danbury estate.

You're standing off to the side, watching those around you, when your dear friend, Benedict, approaches you. You smile wide at him, "Ben!"

"Another splendid performance, Miss L/N," he lifts his glass to you.

You chuckle, "Thank you. But I think Arthur Talbot deserves just as much praise. They're his words after all."

Benedict nods, "Yes, but you perform his words so beautifully."

You look away, feeling a heat crawl up your cheeks. Benedict clears his throat, "I take it you still have no marriage prospects since you haven't mentioned anyone courting you."

You look back up at him and snort, "Ben, this is my fourth year in society. I highly doubt I'll ever find a man willing to marry me at this point." You cast your eyes down to play with a thread on your skirt, "No one wants to be married to someone who has gambling drunkard father. Doesn't matter if he's a Lord or not."

"If my brother, Anthony, managed to find love and a wife, you will to, Y/N."

You scoff, "How dare you put me in the same category as Anthony."

"I agree," you turn to see said brother and Kate, approaching you, arm in arm, "You're much better than my husband," Kate says with a smirk.

"Still disgustingly in love, I see," you arch a playful look at your friend.

"Very much so, I'm afraid."

Anthony unhook his arm from Kate's and moves towards Benedict, "Come, brother. Let us let the ladies socialize." He takes Benedict's glass and downs it in a gulp.

The younger brother frowns, "I was drinking that."

"Then we shall grab another and drinks for the ladies," he pats his brother's shoulder and Benedict groans, following his brother out of the room.

You and Kate take a seat on the couch and catch up while the men grab drinks.

_____________________

"So, have you finally decided to court Miss L/N?" the eldest Bridgerton asks.

"We are friends, Anthony. Nothing more."

"So you don't love her anymore?" Anthony asks with a curious gaze, taking a sip of brandy.

"...I didn't say that. Besides, you originally didn't want me involved with her because of her father. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, well, we are the not the sins of our parents. Miss L/N is a lovely woman. She's smart, well-read, not to mention she laughs with you even when your jokes aren't funny."

Benedict's brows furrow, "I am funny!"

Anthony takes another sip of his drink and sighs, "What I mean to say is that I think you two would be a fine match. Besides, it's not like any other man is interested in her."

Benedict immediately clenches his jaw and takes a leering step towards his older brother, "Don't talk about her like that."

Stunned by the sudden change of his brother, Anthony takes a cautious step back, "I meant no harm, brother, but is it not true? It's been years since she's stepped into society and very few men have made an effort to court her."

Benedict lets out a deep breath and apologizes, "I'm sorry."

Anthony clears his throat, "All I'm saying is that you've had several chances to be with her. If you don't take the opportunity, you may lose her."

_________________________

"I apologize for missing another one of your recitals," Kate says, grabbing your hand and intertwining her fingers with yours. Ever since she married Anthony, you two have become acquainted due to your paths crossing whenever you came to see Benedict.

You shrug, "You've heard it all before, Kate. Just another one of Talbot's poems."

"You're quite smitten with this poet, it seems."

You laugh, "I can't help it! His words are as if he speaks to my soul!"

"Maybe I should write to this Talbot and see if he'd like to ever attend a Bridgerton ball."

You shake your head, "Oh no. Please, don't. People say never to meet your heroes, so I don't think I would want to meet him."

Kate shrugs, "As you wish."

Anthony and Benedict come back with drinks in hand. Anthony hands Kate a glass and Benedict hands you one.

"Thank you, Ben," you give him a grateful smile and he smiles back, "Of course."

He sits in the chair beside you and you two fall into discussion about the poem you recited, all the while Kate and Anthony give each other knowing looks.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton imagine #f!reader #female!reader #fem!reader

[daughterofyore]

#bridgerton series #bridgerton spoilers #queen charlotte #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #king george bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton family #bridgerton fic #bridgerton men #bridgerton women #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #simon basset #king george iii #king george x reader #king george x f!reader #theo sharpe

[grugruel]

The Artist and the Flower

Pairings: Benedict bridgerton x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Sexpollen

Masterlist

Summary: A mysterious flower brought back from Colin's travels put you and Benedict in a curious predicament. Resulting in sex and other things.

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: sexpollen, friends to livers, passionate sex, pinv sex, oral sex (female recieving), rough sex (blink and you'll miss it), choking, praise, pet names (princess, girl, woman, lady.), "I love you", mating-press, missionary, creampie. (Think that's all)

AN: not yet proofread! Hope you guys enjoy!

Approaching footsteps roused my mind, they thudded dully against wooden floorboards, pausing only to whisper mutely. 'This is not funny, where are you?'

I tried to focus in my breathing, my fingers were sluggish as they wiped themselves clean against the bottom hem of my dress.

'Woman!' The voice called, shrill and urgent this time. Ringing terribly in my ear. It's accompanying steps diminishing as they hurried passed me where I sat on my knees, all dizzy on the floor.

'Benedict!' I hissed. The bright interior blurring as I made to stand up, legs wobbly beneath the unsteady weight of my torso.

There was a muffled squeak through the wall, shoes whirling against polished wood. Indicating him turning on his heel. 'Most, esteemed woman?' He tried again, punctuating the words as he half joked, half not. Simply hopeful hollow flattery would spur me into giving further clues to my whereabouts.

'Get in here at once!' I threw my finger toward the floor in reinforcement, as if he could see me do it. But the world spun suddenly, and I staggered a few steps until I caught myself on a wall. The window I'd opened wasn't doing much, except chilling my damp skin with the occasional draft.

With a last few steps, he darted to the door that separating us and four quaint knocks rapped aginst it. I gritted my teeth, annoyance taking over the hand. 'Yes, come on in.' Still, I willed my voice into the least irritable tone I could muster. This was not his fault after all.

'Ah–' he sighed, and pushed the door open. '–godess. . .' There was a mocking tone to the word and a satisfied grin on his lips, but it quickly fell as his eyes scoured over my appearance and utter devastation replaced it.

I wiped my forehead free of the beading sweat, and it too, began to tingle just like my fingertips had–to my horror, I realised–I'd probably just added more of whatever that dust was into my system. Now seeping through my skin and diluting my blood, impairing my usually keen senses with whatever toxins it provided.

He hurried to my side in big, worried strides to lay and arm around my back, steadying me when I couldn't steady myself. 'Wha-' He couldn't even form a word of surprise, his jaw slack as he gestured with his free hand to my dishevelled appearance. 'Why are you in Colins room? In this, state?' He quickly added. If I wasn't mistaken, which I might very well have been considering I didn't have full use of my mind. But, I could almost detect jealousy in his tone.

He would get the wrong idea, about Colin. 'Well,' I tried being nonchalant, tried to act like the places he made contact with my skin did not burn for him. I screwed my eyes shut and pulled all my focus into an answer. 'The wine got to my head, and I realised,' My words came out sluthered and slow. 'I hadn't been in here before, and. . .' My head began nodding of its own accord, already finding my unsaid words agreeable. '. . .it had to be remedied.'

'Of course, of course it did.' Benedict sighed, his shoulders shrugging in exasperation as he began looking around, presumably to find something for me to sit on, but his eyes fastened on something else instead. I cringed, for his eyes darted from the open rucksack, then back to me. The look he gave me was nothing but disapproving. But goodness, he was stading so close. His breaths warm against my cheek and mildly stained by alcoholic bevrages, much like mine must've been. But oh, the fire in his eyes gave me quite a start, not that I was fearful of it. In fact, I found the opposite to be true. It almost felt as if I had abaorbed it, and it traveled downward. . . 'You went through his belongings?'

My mind froze, the newfound aching in my body too distracting. 'I. . .' I felt my eyes narrow and forehead furrow, my dull reflexes attempting a poor pretence of thoughts. 'I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry. But there was this box, with some strange flower inside. . .' I trailed off. An amused, tipsy smile making it's way onto my face as I noted his incredulous expression.

His hands slid down my arm, and the sensation traveled straight to my core. Causing the need to stifle a moan arise.

'And you thought it a good idea to touch a foreign plant of which you know nothing of?' He spoke fast, too fast for me to keep up. Especially when goosebumps ran rampid in the wake of his touch, when my core ached for him to continue, to push his body further into mine. My heart beat too fast, his hand too close to the pulse point on my wrist.

My hand found it's way beneath his jaw, a wide grin splaying across my face. 'Wine will do that to a gentlewoman.' I explained, sluthering slightly. But feeling no more explanation to be necessary.

He screwed his eyes shut and stood completley still for a moment, I could almost see the thoughts swirling in the crammed space of his mind. 'Well,' he looked at me once again, searching my eyes. 'What gentleman would I be to leave a woman in need to her own devices?' He opened the box and grabbed the flower without hesitation, feeling its vevelty petals, rubbing the dust between his fingertips and then- tasted it.

Currents of static electricity zapped beneath my chest, spreading throughout me body. Everything happened so fast. And all I could do was watch, very intently, as the pads of his middle- and index finger made contact with his tongue, swiping clean against it. Lips then closing around them to suck whatever remained off. The heat building in my body was nothing short of sinful, and the thoughts–my thoughts–were even worse.

'Let's go.'

'Pardon?' Precious air left my lungs, leaving me breathless.

'Dinner with the Bridgertons.'

'I figured it to be out of the question.' My expression confounded.

'Colin is already downstairs, and we must find out what exactly that plant is-' He stopped. Eyes all of a sudden distant as they grazed over my features, landing on my lips. He still held my wrist, stroking the inside with gentle circles.

'Ben?' It was summer in the country, this much I knew. But surely, the temperature could not rise as fast as it just did. Sweat was pooling at my back, beneath my bust. And I began to wish, that he would simply. . . Lick-

'We must go.' I declared, clearing my throat. Hoping the words would snap us out of our trance.

'Right, of course.' He nodded, a blush sweeping across his cheeks. His eyes suddenly keen to examine the floor. But he kept his han his hand on the small of my back, urging me down the halls of the big house. Ocassionally, he'd scrunch the fabric of my dress, feeling the flexing of my back beneath the tips of his fingers. It pulled my attention to the sensitivity of my skin, and the pleasure his small, simple action gave me.

The next thing I knew, I was being helped into a chair at the center of the dining table. Benedict laid a hand on my shoulder that was meant to be reassuring, but it had an impact much more wicked on me. He took the seat across from me, and oh so conveniently placed himself next to Colin. Conversation grew heavy as Violet became quite inquisitive with her children. Eloise's debut, Anthony's proposal plans, and who he was planning on the recieving end. I would usually have been elbow deep in the gossip and drama, but my mind was elsewhere, muddled or perhaps tainted, as I couldn't focus on much of anything. Their voices grew sharp in my ears, the candlelight too bright for my eyes.

Ben leaned in to whisper in Colin's ear, who's eyes grew wide. Looking at me with growing worry, in fact, he almost looked like he would be sick.

I could understand why. Slouched in my seat, looking generally ill and doing more drinking than eating. Which was most likely only adding to the growing problem rather than subduing it. But oh, was he handsome. Flushed, he combed a hand through his hair. Slicking it with the dampness from his forehead, his eyes darting over my figure every now and then. Whatever that flower was, it seemed to be getting to him too. Colin opened his mouth to answer Ben.

'How are you dear, you look a little I'll.' Violet asked with genuine worry, interrupting the boys hushed conversation and turned them onto me with anxious eyes.

'I'm well.' I smiled, feeling as though my own voice was not mine.

Ben's eyes creased, a grin spreading over his lips, and then began giggling.

The conversations cut, and everyone stared at him. 'Are you quite alright, dear?' Violets eyes were full of concern, now placed upon him instead. I didn't yet know if it was warranted or not. But I was glad he pulled any lingering eyes from my current state.

'I apologise.' The words were strained as he pushed them out between more fluttering giggles, leading him to cover his blushing face. 'Her lady just told me something stunningly funny, that is all.' Benedict gestured to me, his eyes glinting with mischief. That little-

'Truly?' Violet smiled expectantly, something like understanding in her eyes. That cunning look she always gave her children when she knew something they didn't. Perhaps she'd taken my demeanour as that of a girl with a hidden crush, only anxious under the gaze of her love. She wouldn't be entirely wrong. Long had I known the Bridgertons, and even longer had I liked Ben.

I cleared my throat, blinking away the haze in my eyes. 'I'm uncertain of its propriety. . .' I tried to redirect, a drop of sweat sliding down my temple as I nervously glanced around at the members of the family. And ufortunately, I felt a bubbling up inside my chest, a composition of my own laughter. 'It was, uhm. . .' I paused, working hard to keep a smile from creeping onto my lips. Trying desperate to think of something to say. Anything, really.

'Well, let's hear it.' Anthony said with a grin, and the rest of the table agreed. Eloise being little more than a heap of snickers, Colin seeming to be the only one who gained little to no amusement from the situation.

Watching my struggles and deeming them incredibly funny, Benedicts giggles evovled and he burst out laughing. I was second behind him, but the table quickly joined in with a chorus of incredulous chuckles and wild looks of incomprehension. 'What is the matter with you two?' Eloise asked, her eyes watery as she clutched stomache.

We locked eyes, Ben and I. Both now scorching, judging from the trickling sweat on his neck and the tickling down my back. Warmth spread throughout my chest, and something fluttered in my stumache. Something was terribly wrong with the flower for me to feel so deeply, so suddenly.

Colin took his chance when Benedict had calmed himself, leaning in to whisper in his ear. Ben's face offered an array of reactions ti every word spoken. Confusion, surprise, anger. It was enough for me to conclude that something was not right, and that was when his eyes went wide. 'Then why would you not keep a lock on it, brother?' He shouted, his voice much louder than anticipated. Worry grew in me as I carefully studied their expressions, replacing all my previous feelings of joy. Colin whispered again, his lips moving eratically as he shook his head, clearly distressed and displeased. Ben's eyes locked on mine a second time, again, they were full of fire. However, something told me it was not of the same sort I'd seen earlier today, this was not anger. No, it was something else entierly. 'Pardon us, drar family. But the lady and I must be excused.' He claimed suddenly, turning to his mother and Anthony. 'We have urgent business that need tending to.'

'–my parents estate. . .' I cut in, sensing the graveness behind his words. It cant be good if his mood had changed so quickly. The family gave me an odd look, and I scrambled further, not wishing for them to get the wrong impression. 'The art- the art in their estate. We had a Lively discussion before dinner. . . Hence the art. Because he's an artist.' I paused my rambling lips, they did me more bad than good. I stood hastily, the rich pulsing around me as I did so, almost knocking the chair to the floor. I smoothed my dress out and exited the diningroom with an "excuse me" and a unecessary curtsy.

Rushing down hallways, I brushed my hand along the wall for support. Benedict's footsteps only a pace behind my own. He placed a hand on my hip, to brace me or simply because he wanted to fell me, I did not know.

Stopping outside my rooms, I urged him to explain. 'Apparently,' he began, rubbing the nape of his neck. I knew that tell. 'It's not, good news. . .'

I leaned back against the doorframe, my body drenched in sweat. The wafting of my fan doing nothing to help. 'Benedict Bridgerton, tell me immediately.' I growled.

'Its an aphrodesiac. It means-'

I expelled a strained breath. 'I know what it means, Ben. Continue.' The air blew against the exposed skin of of my chest, cooking it effectively.

Benedict hesitated, none of this was proper. Yet, his eyes lingered on the growing goosebumps over my breasts. His gaze sliding to my throat, watching it bob as I swallowed a big breath of air. 'We are friends Ben, discussing such things educationally does not betray social rules.' I tried to convince us both.

He nodded absentmindedly, his eyes snapping back to mine with a newfound reverence. He himself staggering as his balance perception had been knocked down a peg. It was really starting to get to him, so I grabbed his jacket to steady him. 'Its pollen is poisonous in large amounts, If consumed and left untreated, lethal.'

I swallowed again, the world spinning as my mind fumbled his words, turning them over and over in my head. 'Considering the side-effects,' I gestured with the fan between the two of us. 'I gather we have large amounts in our blood.'

To this he nodded, the uncertainty in his eyes replaced with a wicked smile spreading across his lips. 'Clever girl.'

His praise felt like a punch to the gut. Although not knocing the air out of me, it did leave me in pain. 'And how do we cure it?' I tried to distract myself, my breathing was growing uneven, my thoughts a haze. And Benedict Bridgerton, looking more and more like something I'd like to devour.

His hand braced against the doorframe above my head ti stabilise him, his tall frame nkw looming over me, our faces stopping only a few inches appart. 'By working it out of our systems, by executing certain activities,' he murmured, studying me under hodded eyes and parted lips. 'The burning needs to be sated. If not, it will develop into fever, the throat will close and-'

'Alright, that's quite enough.' I gestured for him to stop. My lip trembling, my body burning as I looked at him through my lashes. 'What exactly are these activities?' I had a feeling, a hunch, where this was going.

'You must forgive my crudeness.' He took my hands in his free one, managing to wrap his considerably larger one around both of mine. 'By love making.' He was even closer now, his nose touching my cheekbone as he whispered in my ear. 'Sex.' His breaths were ragged, on edge. His tongue darting out to wet his lips. He stopped himself, closing his eyes. His forehead lulling against mine. Most likely taming himself jusy like I had to, trying not to think of the multiple worst case scenarios.

'We cannot stay out here, somebody will see us.' I warned, my nose rubbing against his. My body so taunt, tense, it needed desperate release. My spine was still recovering from that word. It had shaped a ball of anticipation in the pit of my stumache. It could ruin me, my prospects. I only just debuted. But- sex. . . That was all I wanted in this moment, and I wanted it with this man.

I looked him in the eyes and opened the door to my bedchamber. 'I love a tragedy, an epic story of true love ending in death.' I whispered, moving my hands around his. 'But we are not lovers.' Taking a few steps back, I led him inside. 'So, lets make this count.' He followed me willingly, his eyes loyal and round like a puppy's as he gazed at me with adoration. And the door fell shut behind him.

'What if we were?' His voice was low and burdened with lust. One hand coming to stroke a few strands of hair from my cheek.

I blinked, barely comprehending his touch. 'We shall not perish, Benedict. I refuse.'

'No, but we could love.'

'What?' My brows furrowed.

'Perhaps, you could find it in your heart to love me, as I have always loved you.' He paused. The next words were heavy as they hung from the tip of his tounge. 'Let me make love to you.' His voice vibrating from the strain of on his chest. He took a step closer, his chest pressing flush against mine. 'Let me teach you.' His voice was pleading, and I had to crane my neck to keep his eye contact. 'Marry me. . .' His hands cupped my face. '. . .marry me.' he leaned in, whispering the words against my lips.

I nodded slowly. 'Teach me.' And our lips clashed together.

Years worth of structural limitations evaporated, society and politics a thing of the past as Benedict raised my skirt, found purchase under my thighs and pulled me into his embrace. His skilled tongue finding its way into my mouth with ease.

He walked us backward, gently laying me down on my bed despite the urgency of our lust. 'What do you need?' He asked through muffled moans, his lips busy with mine. I could not think, nothing about my being would work with me. 'Talk to me, what do you need?' He breathed, voice almost a whimper as his hands squeezed my hips, urging me to answer.

'You,' I managed. 'I need you.' I could feel him smile against my lips.

'Do you trust me, love?'

'Always.'

He pushed off me, hooked his hands under my knees and pulled me to the edge of the bed.

Then kneeled.

Benedict, the man that he is, stood on his knees before me. Between my legs, he smiled a wicked smile. My body was limp in his touch, completely at his disposal. The aching cravings of my core did not care what he did, as long as it was he who did it.

His hands dove under the hem of my skirt, tracing my legs upward, hitching the fabric on his wrists. He stopped above my knees, kneeding them thoughtfully as his eyes searched mine. It took my mind a second to wrap around his request, it was already so painfully clear to me that I would agree at any given moment of our time together that I could not fathom him wanting further confirmation. 'Yes. . . Please.'

He wasted no time. He was hungry. He flipped the skirt over my abdomen and got to work. Immidietly lowering himself onto my mound, lipping a stripe from my core to my clit and he moaned.

A shuddering whimper left me, if it was from his reaction or the sensation of his tongue I would never know. Proudly, he wrapped his lips around me clit and vegan sucking, licking and nipping. It was unlike anything I'd ever felt before, my fingers could never compete with his expertise. My body wriggled involuntairly, compelling him to hold my hips down with one hand, and taking it as a sign to slide the other along the inside of my thigh and burry a finger inside me, pumling it in an out.

I cried out, covering my mouth as my free hand dove into his hair. Pulling and scratching, I urged him to continue. But somewhere inside me, worry built. What about him? My eyes glanced over the still beading sweat on his forehead, afraid it might be the fever Ben had spoken of. 'What about you?' I whimpered, stroking his hair in a gentler fashion as he continued his contrasting assault on my mound.

'What about me?' He moaned, voice muffled by my skin and shrugged, sliding another finger inside me. His eyes studying my reaction, the way my body moved. I cried out again, biting my lip this time to stifle it as my other hand entwined with the one he held at my hip.

'Is it enough for you?' The words were expelled on an exhale, my voice pitched from continously pleasure, but beneath there was worry. And he noticed.

He chuckled breathely against my clit. 'I do not care about me.' His eyes met mine, and a strike of lighting shot through me, a whimper escaping me with furrowed brows. And he continued with a groan. 'Giving you pleasure is all I need.' And added a third finger, curling them inside me. Their size was admirable, especially as they hit some special spot inside me.

My back arched and a tidal wave of pleasure rolled over me, the pressure that'd been builing in my stumache finally released.

He watched me intently. 'Let me hear you.' He requested, continuing to move his fingers as he helped me through my orgasm, palming himself through his pants with his free hand. I obliged him. A string of curses unbefitting of a lady left my lips in whimpers.

'It takes talent to make such vulgar words sound pretty.' He licked another stripe along my folds, gathering my orgasm on his tongue and swallowed greedily. A strained grunt left him, and he collapsed into my lap, a shiver running through his body. My hand left his to brace myself on my forearm, gathering a better view of him as I combed my hand through his hair soothingly, and that's when I noticed the wet spot on his pants. I gasped. 'It was truly enough for you?' I ovserved him in awe, the aching beginning to roar inside me yet again.

'I told you,' He panted, sucking his fingers clean between his attempts to catch his breath and tilted his head to look up at me. Such a sinful act embedded so innocently. 'You are enough for me, pretty girl.' Now it was not only mor core which ached, but my heart also. Still on his knees, he let himself regenerate in my lap whilst his adoring eyes romaed my face. A show of devotion, of resignation, of love.

I moved to sit, his head still in my lap as he circled his arms around my waist, gaze still locked on mine. 'I love you.' I whispered, brushing the damp hair from his forehead.

His eyes softened impossibly more. 'I've always, always been in love with you. Since the first week of our meeting.'

My chest ached. 'Why have you never told me so?'

'Throwing our friendship away based on chance was not odds I was willing to risk.' He hugged me tighter, then stood up. 'But im afraid, that were not out of the woods yet.' He said, un buttoning his shirt and pants. 'Im feeling quite feverish.' His eyes glistened with mischief, and let the coat fall from his shoulders.

'If you want me again, you need only say so.' I smiled, now it was my time to look up at him with loving eyes.

'I want you again.' He removed his shirt, and I hade to collect my breath for a second. 'Stand, my love. We will do this properly.' He took my hands and helped me to my feet, turned me around and undid my dress and corset. Again, It made me realise just how much experience he had.

When I stood in only my chemise, feeling naked and vunerable. He stood in only his breeches. Nothing my nervous state, he said. 'We can leave it on, love.' Searching my eyes.

But I shook my head, if I was to have all of him, he was to have all of me. 'Please.' I whispered, motioning for him to take it off me. And he did, it slid down my body easily. Gradually exposing every inch of skin only me and most likely my maids had seen.

He stood struck for a moment, unmoving, unspeaking. Until- 'I do not deserve you.' He awed, 'Beautiful, beautiful woman.' Reaching his hand out to stroke my biceps, my abdomen, eyes searching mine before they traveled further up.

'You do, if any man ever was to. It would be you.' I promised him, and at this he blushed. I grabbed his hand and laid it atop my breast. With a groan, he stepped closer. His free hand cupping my face as the other massaged my breast, and his lips met mine. Softly, his hand slid around my back, guiding me back knto the bed, laying me carefully down on the pillows. 'Princess.' He breathed, sat back and removed his breeches. I did not have time to fawn over his size until he was on me again. Hooking my leg on his knee, he spread it wide. Bracing on a forearm, his face was inches from mine as he lowers himself on top of me. His thick length grazing my clit. Sensitive and burning, still–I noticed. The polled had yet to leave our system, perhaps it deadliness had subdued, but it's symptoms were yet in full effect.

Benedict nuzzled my cheek. 'Tell me what you want.' He whispered in my ear.

'You, all of you.'

'Be more specific, dearest.'

I swallowed, my breathing growing heavier. 'Sex.' I murmured, and his lips formed a smiled against my jaw. 'I want sex.'

'I would want nothing more than to give it to you.' He breathed, and lined himself up with my entrance. Then pushed himself in, gently, but consistently. My whimpered only spurring him on, not stopping until he reached the hilt. He'd done his job well, since I easily adjusted around him. 'Good girl.' He whispered, tracing kisses from my lips to my neck. 'Taking me so well.'

I ached, arching my back, I needed more. My skin was growing more and more sensitive. 'Please, Ben. . .'

That was all he needed to hear. He pulled out and thrusted into me again, moving my entire body with each stroke and it was like nothing I've ever felt before. 'Holy-' I interrupted myself with a moan.

He chuckled, but truthfully it was more of a moan. 'Feel so good.' He murmured against my skin, kissing the tender spot between my shoulder and throat. 'Like I imagined.'

Pause. He's thought of me? In this way? With. . . women, by himself?

'When, tell me when.'

'Always. I thinn of you when I lay with other women, I think of you when I touch myself.' His hand ran down my body, squeezing my breast as he drove himself deeper. And I had to wonder–were those acts specific details of his dreams, desires? 'You occupy my mind, always.' He said quite breathlessly.

'Show me, show me how you want me.'

He pulled out if me, hooked my legs over his shoulders and thrusted back in. Every rut of his hips hitting that sweet spot inside me, wrecking me over and over again. Strained breaths against my throat became the outcome of his efforts, as the power behind each thrust pushed me deeper into the mattress. 'What else, show me what else. I'm yours.' I moaned.

His lips found mine, and his hand my throat. Gently, he enveloped it. Softly, he squeezed. 'Say it again.' His lips murmured against mine, kissing them between every breath he labored.

'I'm yours.' I whispered, and he groaned. A particularly forcefull thrust was made into me. He was never rough in anything he did, but he put his back into it. Always the gentleman, never the brute. I've never been happier for a man to be so contrasting.

The burning, the aching, the pressure. It was all towering, waiting to be pushed over at any second. 'Mine,' he moaned. 'My love.' His pace quickened and ruts hardened. He was as close as I was. 'I love you. . .' He whimpered and spilled himself inside of me. And I came a second later, irregular thrusts carrying me through my blinding orgasm. 'I love you.' He told me over and over again as he let my legs fall to his sides, and collapsed onto my smaller figure. With his head on my chest, I held him. 'I love you too.'

'Marry me, then.'

'Give me a ring, then.' I giggled. He made to stand up, to slither out of my embrace. 'Not now!'

'Tomorrow, then?' He laid back down, this time wrapping his arms around me and pulled me close.

'Tomorrow, then.' I confirmed. Id never been so happy as in that moment.

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #bridgerton smut #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine

[leascorner]

b.b. | With child

Summary: He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours.

Pairing:  Benedict Bridgerton x f!reader

Warnings: angst ('cause I can't write anything else), alluding to sex (no description whatsoever), discussions around pregnancy, pregnancy, mention of alcohol.

Words Count: 2.1k

Author's Notes: Had this in the work for the longest time. I was actually thinking to publish it for his season (#4 I hope!). But we got new stills of Season 3 and it's nearly Valentine's Day so... Enjoy!

“Are you-” you asked when you noticed your sister-in-law had let her glass of wine and her plate untouched.

Your words stayed lost on your tongue, yet Daphne, sat in front of Benedict and next to you, knew exactly what you were about and nodded slightly, tears in her eyes. You let out a small cry of excitement and leant in to hug her. While you wore the most delighted expression, Benedict’s heart sunk a little at the news.

His sister was with child. Again. She was the second women of his family to be expecting this year, while he had yet an exciting news to share himself.

You both had wed a little over than a year and a half ago now and were yet to be blessed with a child. You were doing your best, of course, but none your efforts had been fruitful so far. Benedict did not mind; he had waited his whole life to meet you, he definitely could wait a little bit longer.

He did not mind, or so he thought…

Tonight, he thought life was particularly unfair to him. Every pregnancy announcement was only nourishing this harrowing feeling in his chest. All he could feel was his siblings’ bliss and it made him sick to the stomach. Yes, he was sick with jealousy - and ultimately selfish. He just couldn’t wait to feel your belly growing, to hold your children, to watch them playing around with their cousins, for them to grow older and become adults themselves. Just this simple thought made his very own heart felt extremely heavy.

Politely and quietly, he raised his glass wishing his sister a healthy pregnancy, before drinking away his sorrow.

The ride home that night was particularly quiet.

Silence had never been a thing between the two of you. Benedict was usually the most talkative, telling you about his days, about whatever painting he was going to paint, about that book he had been reading. You would listen, looking back at him with your big bright eyes and a soft smile onto your lips. Other times, he would watch you pacing back and forth in his study while passionately debating about politics. He would be drawing imaginary circles on your soft skin as you were lying in bed, you telling him about another one of your days chaperoning one of his sisters. He would listen to your laugh at one of his jokes. Even your fights would be followed by soft apologies, quiet words, whimpers, and love.

On the contrary, that night, the air was thick with something he couldn’t quite describe, and the coach was wrapped up in dark clouds, a genuine storm in the awakening. Sat on the opposite side, you were looking through the window, your face only light up by the few shines of the full moon. Benedict was so focused on his own thought that he didn’t realize you hadn’t had a word for the rest of the night.

He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours. It only made him angrier at the entire world. Why couldn’t they let you live this as well?

He would have liked to discuss this with you - his regrets, his hope - but he was too afraid you would realize what a failure he was. How disappointed with him you were. How you would hate him for not being able to offer you this. So, he sat back in his seat and watched out of his own window.

When the coach stopped in front of your residence, Benedict got out first, offering his hand to help you getting down the small step like he always did. You smiled at him, thanking him politely, and let go of his hand as soon as your two feet were on the ground. It didn’t mean anything, he tried to reassure himself, you needed both of your hands to grab the tissue of your dress to prevent the hem from getting wet and dirty. Yet, he couldn’t help the sharp pain in his chest.

Silently, he followed you inside, hat in his hands, jaw locked. You were welcomed as usual by your housemaid, who got both of your coats and stayed there, in the uncomfortable silence, arms full, waiting for one of you to dismiss her. As you took off your gloves and didn’t dare look at Benedict, he nodded sharply to let her know she could go and watched her somehow disappear in an instant.

Suddenly, it was only the two of you again and it was all too much for him. He couldn’t breathe properly; his chest being crushed by the invisible weight of his sorrow. He couldn’t bare staying with you one more second. He needed to get out of here.

“Good night,” he said firmly, before walking to his study.

Would he have looked back he would have seen you watching him disappear in the corridor. You, all alone in the middle of the hall, arms dangling. He would have seen the frown on your face and the hurt in your eyes. Would he have looked back he would have run back to your side. Instead, he did none of that. He continued marching, head up high, trying to escape his own misery.

You sighed before turning in the opposite direction and to your shared bedroom.

Benedict went to bed less than an hour after you.

He had been haunted by guilt as soon as he had reached his study, sadness evaporating once he had stepped inside the room. Instead of turning back and chasing after you, he had tried to put his head in order. He then had tried painting whatever he was feeling, but he could only stay in front of his white canvas, terrified of laying his brush on the cotton. He had tried writing it, but he couldn’t concentrate enough; his thoughts always drifting to you, alone in your bedroom. He had then settled on having a drink to wait long enough for you to fall asleep before he could go to bed - his other option would have been to sleep in his study if he got too drunk, which he did not.

He had thought long about the whole situation. It wasn’t like you were not trying. Sometimes, even with doing the right things, it didn’t happen. He would need to accept this. And he couldn’t continue being a terrible husband. It wasn’t your fault; it wasn’t anybody’s fault actually. What he knew more than anything though was that he loved you. Whatever would happen, he could not afford to lose you.

He had decided he would come clean tomorrow, but for now, he only wanted to sleep with you by his side.

In the dark of your room, Benedict undressed and lied besides you as silently as possible.

All he could hear was your uneven breathing; whatever dream you were having did not seem to be pleasant. He reached out to your arm, hoping that you could feel his presence through his touch and know he would always be there for you.

It wasn’t until your body was rocked by a hiccup that he understood that you were not having a bad dream, you were crying.

“Y/N?” he asked, lying on his side to face your back.

“I am so sorry,” your voice was only a whisper.

He gently made you roll on your side. Even in the dark, his right hand was able to find your face and his thumb to rub the tears away. Before he could ask what was wrong, you spoke:

“I am so-” You chocked on – yet – another sob and it took you a couple of seconds to even out your breathing so you could speak properly: “So sorry- for not being able to get you- get you what you ever wanted.”

“My love,” he sighed, grabbing the back of your neck to bring you closer. Instinctively, you hide your face in his chest, and he started stroking your hair to try and calm you. “My love, do not ever feel guilty on this.”

“I have tried every tea, every method that is supposed to help,” you cried some more.

It broke his heart to realize the burden on your heart - of course, if he was feeling it, you would have too. He finally understood how selfish he had been, how centred on his own pain he was and so oblivious to yours. It had never been a subject between the two of you, but it was slowly crushing you both.

“My love, this is not your fault.”

“You don’t see the pity in their eyes. You don’t hear them whisper.” You sniffled against his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. “We are even blessed Lady Whistletown has not written about us.” He heard the frustration in your voice and the ton of it made him understand how you had tried to suppress the guilt but failed. It pained him that out of all of this, it was you who were the one being charged guilty by everyone - you included. As if you couldn’t imagine it being his own fault. As if you couldn’t imagine it being anyone’s fault but yours.

“Perhaps, I-” he stopped, running a hand through his hair out of frustration. “I drink loads of Colin’s stupid tea; I paint with all sorts of chemicals substance. Perhaps, I can’t-”

“Ben, of course, no!”        

“Perhaps we won’t ever-” he confessed, but he couldn’t even say it out loud. It was all too much.

You moved against him, and he felt both of your hands grabbing his face, your forehead resting again his. He felt your hot breath against his skin, and he hugged you tighter, crushing your bones, making sure you were close.

He had you, he kept repeating himself. It was all that mattered. Of course, it was a dear wish of his to see mini versions of yourselves running around, but not at all costs. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice what you both had, right here, right now.

“We are both healthy, it is more than all I could ever wish for.”

“Will this ever be enough for you, though?” you asked so quietly he nearly did not hear you.

Benedict frowned. Was it really what you thought? That he would leave you? That your own self was not enough for him? He had been an even more terrible husband he had thought to lead you thinking this. He had failed you on so many levels.

“I was so absorbed by my own desire of having my own family,” he whispered back like he was telling you a secret, “I never asked if you also desire to have children of your own.”

“Ben, of course, I want your children!”

Benedict wanted to express how grateful he was to have you in his life, but no words came to his mind at that moment. He only reached out to your lips, trying to express how much he loved you.

If he could not tell you, he could still show you…

Hours later, while you were lying in bed, your head on Benedict’s chest, his left hand drawing invisible love words on your back and the other holding you close, he thought that there was nothing else he would like to do than stay with you, like this, forever.

“We should just take some time away from here.”

“What do you mean? The season only began-”

“To hell with worldliness. Some time away, just the two of us.” The sun was slowly peeking through the blinds, its yellow light was painting on your naked skin a glowy spectrum. “I heard South of France is particularly beautiful, this time of the year.”

Your chin on his chest, you looked back at him, eyes bright. He was looking at you the same way you had catch him do a million time: a soft smile on his lips, his eyes filled of this spark, shinning only for you. You didn’t care how beautiful France would be, he was the most beautiful view you had ever laid eyes on.

His hand brushed some hair out of your face, and you grabbed it to kiss his knuckles.

“France, it is then.”

Little did you know, you would be coming back home a few months later, bearing your own little miracle.

One of the many to come.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x female reader #lea's writing #benedict bridgerton fanfiction

[lydiimae]

The stars, the moon

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

18+ MDI!

Warnings: Talk of drinking, sexist old ideas about women, talk of sex, Anthony being a cutie shhh, oral sex, penetrative sex, dirty talk, body worship (f receiving), heavy praise, lovemaking more than hardcore sex oopsies

A.N: YOU GUYS ARE SO SWEET TO ME ISTG T-T the love on my first two fics is so heartwarming. i'm so very glad you liked them both so much ^-^ Benny and Bridgerton as a whole are both so very important to me so i'm glad i did them both well. anyways my loves, this is an Anthony fic that i hope i can do as well as i did Ben. i was listening to Cosmic Love by Florence and The Machine and it gave me this idea! soooo here is an incredibly fluffy, (and smutty hehe) love filled Ant fic hehe<3 enjoy and thank you again <3 p.s that scene the gif is from sends my mind into a spiral CONSTANTLY my roman empire fr p.p.s I FINALLY GOT DIVIDERS, so now my fics will look a little cleaner i hope hehe >_<

Growing up next to the Bridgertons had been fun and eventful, to say the very least. You were there through every trial and tribulation their family had gone through, and them with yours.

You and your three sisters had always gotten along with the seven siblings. Being the youngest and most... rambunctious of them you had gotten along with Eloise and Benedict the most. They had views of marriage and duty that were similar to yours, and when you were younger you and Benedict would spend hours making doodles on the walls of the gardens at your estate.

Your sisters, who were much more of the traditional women you would often find in the ton, tended to be more akin to the eldest Bridgerton brother and sister. Daphne and Anthony, however kind and loving they both were, were always too strict or, in Daphne's case, too proper for your liking.

You had always thought of Anthony as the moon. He thrived in darkness and was often gone before you even noticed he was there. You never knew why he left balls early, or why you spotted him with that opera singer in the deepest corners of gardens or tucked away in libraries.

Until you grew up, that is. The first time you snuck out of the confines of your room was when you were ten and eight, right after the first ball of your first social season. Benedict had insisted on you sneaking out the window of your bedroom so you could tag along with him to a party a fellow artist was throwing, and you, out of pure curiosity, obliged.

You got there and had your first everything while Benedict was painting, or so he claimed, in another room. You kissed the lord, whose name you cannot remember to this day, and then you went beyond that. Sex. It was wonderful, you decided, and from then on you had much more of it.

Anthony was perceptive, he noticed the change in your behavior and one night even decided to ask Benedict about it. Benedict being Benedict told him everything in his usual carefree manner, not thinking twice about it. Anthony reacted quite strangely however, he just... turned on his heel and walked into his study, locking himself in for hours.

He avoided you at all costs from then on. It was strange, but then again, he was the moon. The moon cannot be out forever.

Anthony had always thought of you as the stars, a happy, mischievous young woman who thrived in the dark. You provided a light to every room you walked into that was too great for anyone to look away from. You were intricate, difficult to read and figure out, and yet you were also so intriguing that every man wanted to do just that.

You were also incredibly mischievous, he knew that from the moment you were born. Being eight years older, and a close family friend, Anthony was one of the first who got to meet you. You had always had that sparkle in your eye, like you were in on this grand plan that no one else was.

When you got older, it only got worse. You were constantly getting in trouble, whether that be drawing on your garden's brick walls with his brother or reading books about math or, fittingly, astronomy. Your father always described you as boyish, to which he would have to agree. You got into fencing when you were ten and two and immediately had a knack for it. When you were six and ten, you snuck off with Benedict and got taught how to hunt.

He was never attracted to your sisters as they were too... boring for his taste. They had interests in things like the latest fashion trends, or hairstyles, and he was sure that none of them had ever glanced at a book. It was quite comforting to know, that because of your foolish ways and thinking, he would never be attracted to you either. Or so he thought.

You were wearing a light blue dress when you entered your first ball, your arm tucked snugly with your father's. Your hair was pinned up more elegantly than he had ever seen it, a few of the still unruly, wavy strands fluttering in the breeze that your white fan made. Stunningly gorgeous in every way, and so ladylike. It was strange.

He had almost assured himself that he would never feel this way towards any woman like you, after all, his list of requirements for the next Viscountess was long and specific, to say the least. Yet there you were, walking towards his family, and he was very much sure he was attracted to you.

So when he noticed the jewelry you started using to hide the dark marks on your neck and the silly excuses you would use to leave balls early, it was worrying. He asked Benedict and his worst fears were made a reality, your innocence was gone. You were loose, in his mind. He could not, no would not, be attracted to a woman without her maidenhead. He refused.

The only way he could avoid that attraction was to avoid you at all costs, which is exactly what he did. He excused himself from every room you walked into, and every conversation. On the rare occasion that you somehow managed to worm yourself into a conversation with him, however, he gave short answers and cold glares.

His heart ached when he noticed your light dim after he left, but then again you were the stars. All stars have to burn out someday.

You found his insistence on completely avoiding you to be quite tiresome, after all, you considered him to be like a brother. An annoying, headstrong, arrogant, prick of a brother but a brother nonetheless.

You look over your shoulder to where he is talking to a young debutante, wishing that he would at least glance over. You would never admit it to yourself, but after his company waned you missed it quite a lot. You could talk to Benedict or Eloise, sure, but there was something about annoying Anthony that made your heart flutter and your cheeks flush.

"Miss L/N, are you listening?" The lord, who you were supposed to be listening to, asks. You quickly turn back to him and part your lips to make an excuse, but quickly think better of it. "No, my lord. I apologize, my mind seems to be running from me tonight." You mutter with a soft smile. He nods in turn before continuing to speak about his latest hunting trip, in which you have absolutely no interest.

You excuse yourself when he is done rambling and make your way toward the Viscount, wanting to finally know the real reason why he has made it his life's mission to avoid you. You wish, so desperately, to see the moon again.

He sees you coming and his heart tightens, you look as beautiful as always. You are wearing dark blue, a gorgeous dress he thinks, and your hair is done up just how he likes it. You have on gold jewelry, which sparkles in the low candlelight with every step you take.

He should talk to you, he really should, and yet he cannot bring himself to. You are not the kind of woman he wishes to make the next Viscountess, not even close to checking off any of the boxes he has on his long list for what a woman should be.

So, instead, he settles for leading the young woman he is speaking with to the dance floor. He passes you without a word but falters momentarily when he catches a whiff of your perfume. Your scent, even.

You had always smelled, however strange it might sound, so comforting. Your family's colors were a light purple, the crest having two bunches of lavender flowers on it. You smelled the part, always having some semblance of lavender to you that wafted through the room whenever you entered. It wasn't strong, no, but it was just enough to get his heart racing. It wasn't just lavender that made it so intoxicating, there was something else there. Something that he could only describe as just... you. He smiles to himself at the many fond memories that come with it.

He catches the young woman looking at him in confusion and quickly puts on a straight face, continuing to walk her to the dance floor, but not before noticing the look of despondency on your face. His heart aches, but it must be done. He could not let himself fall for you, no matter how much he longed to see the brightness of the stars again.

Your heart breaks when he walks past you with nothing but a faint semblance of a smile, and for whatever reason, you feel yourself tear up. You wonder if you had done something wrong, or said something in a passing conversation that had rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps even entertained a man he had trouble with. Whatever it was, you did not like the unfamiliar feeling his avoidance brought.

Something that you had always hidden from everyone, including yourself, was your feelings. You felt no need to be a woman who expressed love openly, nor a woman who got teary at the slightest inconvenience. It is why you liked the parties you went to, sex and alcohol were wonderful to drown out feelings that you would rather not feel. Something else you had always hidden or shoved down, was your feelings for Anthony.

He was gorgeous, that much was obvious, what with his grey eyes and his thick brown hair. The things that you didn't like, such as his ignorant views of women, or his want to always be the best, were often drowned out by the fact that the man was extremely loving and protective of those he cared about. Not only that, but he was like you in that he was truly sensitive when he did not try and shove it down. He made you want to sing his praises from every balcony in London, to profess your love in front of all of the ton so everyone could see that he was yours.

You realize you have been standing in the same spot for what has to be at least five minutes now, and that a tear that had escaped in your reminiscing has now made it down your cheek. You quickly walk out to a balcony and lean on the railing, and for once, you allow yourself to cry.

He finds you after his dance with the incredibly boring debutante he decided to occupy himself with. He didn't want to find you, but his feet automatically found themselves to you. As if something deep inside him was naturally drawn to you and your stupid free-spirited nature.

He crowds around your back. "Is everything alright?" He whispers and is completely taken aback when he sees your face. You look up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks. It was surprising to say the very least as he cannot remember the last time he saw you cry. "My God, Y/N, what happened?" He asks, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder.

"Why do you hate me?" You whisper back, and he is even more surprised than before. Hate? God he could never hate you, sure he avoided you, but he could never truly hate anything about you. No matter how much he tried.

He was just standing there like he had not been avoiding you for the past two months. Like he had not ignored your every attempt to speak with him, like he had not completely shattered your soul. It made you so angry that you could not stop the foolish words slipping past your lips.

"It is as if I have committed a cardinal sin, as if I am some heathen you cannot stand to be around and not a woman you grew up with." You say, taking a deep breath as heartbreak shifts to anger. "It is not fair. I have wracked every corner of my memory trying to figure out what I have done wrong and still, I turn up with nothing. I..." You falter and turn to look up at the stars. "You are so distant. I find myself aching without you, Anthony. Like a piece of my soul has broken off with your disappearance and is with you for eternity." You whisper, closing your eyes briefly before turning back to him.

"I ask you again, why do you hate me? What have I done?" You plead, searching his eyes for any semblance of his old self. His eyes widen in response and he takes one of your hands. "I do not hate you. God Y/N, how could I ever hate you?" He breathes and your heart flutters at the look in his eyes. As if you are the only woman on earth. He has returned back to you. The moon has risen again.

"I... I have tried to hate you, yes, but every time you are near something in me longs to touch you in ways that would make any lady blush. I hate that you make me feel this way, so foolishly in love that I can barely form a coherent thought, that the Viscount I am becomes but a memory, but I could never hate you." He confesses, bringing his hands to your waist.

Your eyes water as he continues. "You are a loose woman, or so I so foolishly tried to make myself believe. I ignorantly put that label upon you so I could have a reason to not profess from every rooftop in London how much I adore you and I can never forgive myself for it." He whispers, wiping the tears that have somehow escaped your eyes without your knowledge. "I will never be able to profess how sorry I am, but I can hope that in time you can forgive me for how foolish I have been." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

"How long?" Is all you can manage to croak out in return to his beautiful confession, resting your hands atop his shoulders as your eyes flutter shut. "Since I was a young man, darling. Far too long I have kept it from you." He whispers back as your heart flutters at the title he has given you. "I have loved you since I was a girl." You whisper back. "So I suppose we are both fools." You grin.

He chuckles at that, his hands rubbing small patterns into the small of your back. "Always the witty one, hm? You are truly as bright and as mischievous as the stars, my love." Your heart hammers in the stars, at the way he calls you his love but even more than that, he thinks you to be the stars. "You and I have similar minds, Ant. I always thought you were like the moon, so serious and so attuned to darkness. Yet, so beautiful." You confess, opening your eyes to look into his own. Your cheeks flush at the sight that lies before you.

He is grinning, as if you had just given him the world. He leans in and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, to which you eagerly return as your eyes close and one of your gloved hands cups his cheeks. He pulls away after a moment. "The moon is nothing without the stars." He whispers, and you smile softly. "I shall ask your father for your hand come tomorrow if you let me." He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your brow.

Your heart flutters and you cup his cheeks. "I would love nothing more than to marry you, Anthony Bridgerton." You whisper and he grins, pressing his lips to yours once more. This kiss is more intense than the first, more confident as he knows that you are now officially his. You wish for nothing more than to melt into him, become his both body and mind for the rest of your days. The thought sends shivers down your spine, making your core heat up at the thought of finally sharing your most intimate self with the man who has plagued your thoughts for years.

As if reading your mind he pulls back, but only just. "Might I invite you back to my bedroom, my star?" He whispers, dipping his head down to press a kiss to your neck. You let out a shaky breath at the feeling and nod eagerly. "Please do." You whisper back and he grins, straightening back up and grabbing your hand before pulling you out to where the carriages are. Not before muttering something to Benedict, who smirks playfully and winks at the two of you in return.

One carriage ride full of open-mouthed kisses and love marks later and you are getting lifted out of the carriage and carried into the Bridgerton estate. You had so many fond memories here, you are elated that you would have the privilege of raising a family in the big estate. The thought of a family with Anthony makes your chest feel tight with emotion and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to calm yourself.

He notices the change of emotion as he carries you through the front door, ignoring the many questioning glances the both of you receive from the servants who still linger in the hallways, and kisses the top of your head. "What is it, darling?" He murmurs in your ear as he walks up the stairs, toward his bedroom.

"I am only being sensitive as I envision our future that I have for so long ached for." You whisper back, pressing a kiss to his neck to assure him that nothing is truly wrong. He groans a bit and smiles down at you as he ducks into his bedroom and places you on the bed. "It shall be a grand one. One filled with happiness and light, I assure you." He hums as he locks the door before climbing over you and peppering your face with kisses, which makes you giggle softly.

He moves his hands to your hair, taking out all of the intricately placed pins so he can see it in the state he loves the most, untamed and unruly, just like you. He runs his hands through your hair once he has it down, pressing kisses down your neck and to your collarbone which he bites. You whine softly at the feeling, but more so at the fact that you know he is going to leave marks. The thought of parading around a ball with his lovebites on your skin makes your cunt dampen and your thighs rub together in an attempt to relieve the ache that settles in your core.

He feels the movements of your body below him and groans as your knee brushes against his clothed cock accidentally, making him harden further than he already has. He continues to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as his hands move under you. He pulls you up to a sitting position and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the soft noises he draws from you as his hands move to your back to work on the buttons that hold your dress up.

His tongue slides into your mouth and he lets out a groan as he exposes your bare back, the choice you made to forgo any undergarments becoming the smartest one you made all day. He makes quick work of your dress, parting from your lips as he throws it across the room. "Christ." He growls when he sits back and gazes at your naked body.

Your nipples are peaked from both the cold air of the room and the arousal caused by the way he is gazing down at you. The look of pure desire in his eyes makes you flood down your thighs, which he picks up on instantly. He grins, almost a cocky grin, before removing his clothes from the upper half of his body.

He bends down when he is bare-chested and kisses from your collarbone, down to your right breast. He sucks on the soft skin just to the side of your hardened nipple, making your hips cant up and into his, a whine escaping your lips. He chuckles deeply and moves a hand to yours, so you can have something to hang onto, the other moving to hold your hip down.

He pulls up briefly and rests his chin on your chest, gazing up at you adoringly. "You are perfect, Y/N. Every mark, every blemish, every imperfection is so gorgeous. So perfect for me." He murmurs and you flush, squeezing his hand in yours as a silent thank you as you are unsure if you could even form a sentence now. "Mine." He murmurs with a soft smile before returning his attention to your breasts.

He takes your nipple into his mouth and you cry out at the feeling of his tongue swirling around the bud. You squeeze his hand and your back arches up into him, making him groan. He pushes you back down, all while his mouth sucks and swirls at your sensitive nipple, and rubs soothing circles on your hip with his thumb.

After a moment, he moves to your other breast, giving that one just as much attention. You whine as he bites down softly before pulling up and beginning to mark each of your breasts. He lets go of your hip and smears his hand down your thigh, gently parting your legs as he kisses down your stomach.

You gasp as he gives a kiss to your naval and look down just as he flashes a cheeky grin. He continues his trail of kisses right down to your patch of hair, your free hand grasping at the sheets while the other squeezes his. You cry out when he licks a stripe up your slit, his tongue pressing onto your swollen clit.

He takes the sensitive bud into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it slowly, his hand moving back to your hips when you whine and try to grind against him. You roll your head back, pressing it into the pillow. You get a whiff of his scent and it sends a zing of pleasure to your abused clit just as he moves his mouth down to your swollen hole to drink from you like a man starved.

You moan into his pillow, taking the fabric into your mouth and sucking as pleasure ripples through your entire body. He moves his mouth back to your clit as he pushes one of his fingers into your body, groaning at how tight you are. You cry out, the sound still muffled by his pillow, at the feeling of his finger and the vibrations his noises send through your body.

He adds another finger and begins to curl them into your walls, hitting that spongey spot that makes you scream. Your toes curl as he pumps his fingers in and out of your body in tune with the swirling of his tongue against your clit. You finally take your face out of his pillow. "Close... Fuck please please please, Anthony." You babble as you begin to see stars. You come screaming his name, his fingers gripping your hip so hard you're sure you will be marked there too.

He cleans you up with his tongue before returning to your lips and giving you a swift, but sweet, kiss on your lips. He sits up and slowly rids himself of his trousers, his cock standing proud against his stomach. The sight makes you mewl and spread your legs even wider in anticipation of him filling you until his tip meets your womb.

He settles between your legs and takes both of your hands in his, pressing his forehead to yours. "I love you, Y/N." He murmurs. "I love you, Anthony." You return, and his lips are on yours. He slowly pushes his cock into your body, groaning into your mouth as you moan into his. He bottoms out and lets you adjust, kissing down your neck to your shoulder.

You gently push your hips down as a signal that he can move, and he grins against your skin. He begins to slowly rock in and out of your body, groaning at the noises he draws from your cunt. "Faster, Ant. Please." You gust into his hair, squeezing his hands tight in your own.

He does not need to be told twice. He begins to slam into your body, making your toes curl as you scream out. He continues his brutal pace, the sound of body meeting body filling the bedroom. He presses his forehead to yours just as your eyes shut. "Look at me." He whispers, stalling for a moment. "I want to see how good I make you feel. I've waited far too long for you to hide, my love." He breathes, and you open your eyes.

He gives that stupid arrogant smirk before beginning to thrust into you just as hard as before as if he never stopped. Your mouth hangs ajar, your mind too focused on the feeling of his cock to even try and stop the moans that flow freely from your mouth.

He moves a hand down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and circling to the rhythm of his thrusts. He growls when you clench around his length and moan his name. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck. "Come with me." He whispers, biting down on the skin.

The action sends you over the edge. You come for the second time, screaming his name and he follows soon after, painting your insides with his seed. He works you through your orgasm before pulling out and nuzzling your neck.

After a moment he climbs off of you and saunters to his bathroom, leaving you dazed on the bed. You turn your head and press your face into his pillow once more, letting his scent calm you down. He returns a moment later and laughs warmly at the sight. You blush at the noise and look up at him. "Funny that," He says, gesturing to his pillow as he cleans your thighs with the washcloth he brought out. "I did the same thing today." He grins.

"Mmm. When was that, hm? Did you sneak into my bedroom?" You tease and he grins, shaking his head as he places the washcloth on the bedside and crawls into bed. "No, though I am flattered you would think I would be so bold." He hums, pulling you under the covers with him and taking you into his arms.

You smile softly and bury your face into his neck, closing your eyes. "I did it when I walked past you at the ball. The young woman I was talking to thought I went mad. I had to stop and think of all of the fond memories I have of you." He murmurs as he rests his head atop yours, kissing it softly before closing his eyes as well.

You smile softly at the thought of him stopping mid-step just to think of you. It warms your soul. "I love you." You whisper, slowly nodding off to the sound of his heartbeat.

"And I love you, my star." He whispers before following you into a deep slumber.

The moon truly cannot thrive without the stars.

#anthony bridgerton smut #fanfic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton smut #smut #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x female reader #y/n #x y/n #x reader #reader insert #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgertonx fem!reader #18+ only #anthony bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton oneshot #(?) #anthony bridgerton being a cutie pie stfu

[madhattervanessa]

Bachelor’s Button...

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f!Reader

Summary: You’re a well known florist and travel to London every season, successfully extending your father’s flourishing business. This in turn leaves you to enjoy certain freedoms other ladies of marriage age can only dream of - though you try your best to expend your privilege to the fullest.

Warnings: Exhibitonism/Voyeurism, fingering, sneaking around, slightest hints of dirty talk and overstim

Words: 1950

next Chapter

Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

It’s barely dusk as you fret over the last details, your voice already feeling strained as you yell for more water, more perfume, more goddamn greenery as you move through Lady Danbury’s beautiful estate.

It’s then, you hear your name being called- and you’re ready to admonish whoever this fool thinks he is for bursting in before Lady Danbury’s ball has even started - but you find yourself speechless as you see the person striding into the ballroom like he owns the place:

Benedict Bridgerton. Very obviously polished and smartened up thoroughly for the evening’s events at Lady Danbury’s eloquent ball.

He smiles so brightly at you, you momentarily get lost in the tiny crinkles in the corner of his eyes, before focusing back on the flower arrangements, nervously letting your fingertips tug at another one despite it being perfect.

You can almost feel his breath on your neck as he reaches you.

"You look as captivating as your decorations, Miss.”

You bite at the inside of your cheek and keep eyeing the pearls and glass crystals in front of you as Benedict slowly inches closer. You barely contain a jump when his arm brushes yours.

"Would you honor me with a dance?" His mouth is close, far too close to your ear, before he leaves you a bit of room to breathe.

"Don't be foolish, you can not be seen dancing with me, Lord Bridgerton. Especially not before the ball even starts."

You sneak a glance at him, lucky to catch a moment of him admiring your work, a tentative hand extending towards a sprig of chrysanthemum.

"I beg to differ. You are the daughter of a Baron, after all. If anything, it would do us both good, keep our parents off our backs."

He holds his hand out and you lock eyes with him, stuck in place as the music behind you stops briefly.

"Come on, no need to be shy."

He quirks an eyebrow and you glare at him before you take hold of his offered hand.

"I haven’t been shy a day in my life, Bridgerton."

He huffs and you know he has a comment about that ready. He seems to be able to swallow it down. You’re gently guided towards the edge of the dancefloor and the painters in the middle of the room barely glance at the two of you.

The band keeps practicing another song and Benedict spins you into a respectful hold with your back towards his chest. After a careful look around the room you’re not privy to, he blows air towards the shell of your ear, tickling the skin there.

You can’t help a small laugh before you both turn, your bodies already attuned by other seasons prior and many dances spent together. He turns you back towards himself and intently studies your face.

“Rumor has it you have not smiled since arriving in London.” The teasing remark makes you exchange grins - you had truly missed Benedict and his candor. As well as his charming and humorous nature. “You look so captivating when you do, I'm almost glad I seem to be the first to make you not only smile but laugh as well.”

You still smile, despite feeling caught out, your cheeks flushing from both the dancing and the embarrassment.

As you twirl into the next position, you find your jaw almost pressed up to his. You turn your head to let your lips skim against his cheek, failing to resist the temptation despite the bustle of maids and servants around you.

“I know you can do much better than making me laugh, Benedict.”

When you part from him, it’s his turn to flush and after side eyeing the band, he pulls you close, too close, your chest pressed tight against his as he leans down.

“I was looking forward to doing that again as well.”

You look back and forth between his eyes. You lick across your bottom lip just to catch him staring.

“What are you waiting for?”

He gently pushes you away from him and you almost stumble without the comfort of his embrace, ready to tease him about his poor dancing skills - but then you hear that telltale voice from the upstairs salon. You exchange a quick, conspiratory smile with Benedict before he strolls towards the opposite corner of the room.

The telltale sound of Lady Danbury’s walking cane as she struts down the stairs makes you both straighten up and you turn back towards the decorations you had prepared for the ball as Benedict turns his charm towards the elderly Lady behind you to escape her chiding.

Barely an hour has passed when you find yourself in his embrace again - though this time in even more scandalous scenery.

You let your head fall back as your lips part around a quiet moan, the smile on your lips unavoidable as Benedict kisses your neck.

"Sh, we have to be quiet-" 

You frown before you bury your head into the lapels of his coat, his fingers never ceasing their assault on your pussy as you pray for the maids scuttering around to stay far away from this particular room of Lady Danbury's estate.

That woman would be livid... and delighted.

The faint music starting up again makes you jump and he laughs quietly, his second hand tilting your chin up to kiss you again.

"I've missed you", he whispers between kisses and you feel your heart flutter. You nip at his lip and receive a gasp back.

He doubles his efforts and you melt in his arms, the heat in your blood seemingly fit to boil you alive.

"Ben- I think-"

You can't even finish your sentence before your burst open for him like a bud in spring, your mouth falling open as he pushes you over, gentling his touch, his kisses against your neck turning from devouring to gentle pecks.

His fingers are still buried inside you and you sigh as your heartbeat calms, your surroundings filtering in again, slowly.

"You're so beautiful. How about we leave, right now?", he whispers, his nose running up the tendon of your neck as he speaks. His breaths hitting your skin makes you shiver.

You meet his eyes, hands already raising to fumble with his hair but then his fingers suddenly start thrusting in and out of you.

"Ben-!", you gasp, your hands digging into his coat, hard, as he keeps making your legs shake.

"It felt like you were about to say no- how can I convince you?"

He presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth, before his tongue tangles with yours.

When he lets you up for air again, your head feels like it's on backwards.

"I- I really need to socialize today-", you mutter, blinking a few times to regain focus, anything to distract yourself from how close you are to another orgasm, how tangled up in each other you are underneath the soft, golden glimmer of the lights, like in a dream.

"Lady Trowbridge i-is expecting me. My father will surely be furious if I do not show my face to our many customers tonight.” His lips leave your neck and you open your eyes to see him staring at you, his own lips flushed, his hair mussed.

“Fine, then, have it your way.” His fingers leave you empty and you watch, mouth slightly agape, as he licks them clean. “Make it quick, though - I have missed you. Desperately”, he adds before kissing you again. You taste yourself on his lips before he rips himself away from you, leaving you disheveled and aching for him.

You glance around the corner to see him smiling at a maid before he leaves your line of sight. Before she can spot you, you walk deeper into the room towards one of the guest rooms to make yourself look presentable again.

-

You spend the whole evening socializing, in a considerably better mood than when the evening began and secure both old customer relations as well as new ones as you move about the ball.

The business endeavors of your father keep you safe from most of the eager bachelors but it appears there are at least a few who can not be deterred by your busy networking.

“Miss, a refreshment, perhaps?”

You turn without thinking and accept the glass, barely turning your head. You’re ready to dismiss whoever has approached you this time in hopes of a dance immediately as he comes to stand beside you.

“Yes, thank you-” your eyes meet familiar ones that glint with amusement, obvious delight at catching you unaware.

“-Mister Bridgerton”, you complete, any other dismissal you had prepared rendered useless as he rubs the corner of his mouth with the fingers he had used just hours ago to make you cum while he blatantly stares into your eyes.

He hums and steps into the small conversational circle without hesitation or invitation, blatantly disregarding the other ladies in the circle starting to puff out their chests and fanning their delicate skin.

You catch Lady Danbury watching from afar who shoots you an amused smirk before returning to her conversation.

You can barely listen to one of the younger Ladies’ questions in front of you before Benedict interrupts again.

“May I steal you away to the dance floor, Miss?”

You grit your teeth behind your glass before emptying it, catching a few questioning and scandalized looks as you do, before answering him.

“I would be delighted.”

You pass off the glass to a table next to you before taking his hand, planting a bright placative smile on your face as you excuse yourself from the conversation.

Benedict gently leads you to the dancefloor and you curtsy, easily falling into the lead of the dance, one of your favorites, before you take his hands again.

"I was about to leave”, you hiss, somewhere in the middle of the quiet dance. You catch him smiling before he purses his lips, his eyes probably having caught the stares of one of his family members. It takes another turn around the dancefloor before he answers you.

"I know. But I simply could not resist having another dance with you. You are an excellent dancer, after all."

The low murmur makes you fight the urge to smile again - never one to be caught reacting like a blushing little girl to compliments like that. At least not when others could be watching.

"With the way you’re following me around today, Lady Whistledown might mistake you for a puppy dog soon, Mister Bridgerton."

"Shall I pretend I am blind to the most beautiful artist in the room, instead?"

“I would hardly call myself an artist, Mister Bridgerton. Though I would be most grateful to know which lady you may be talking about, I do love creative minds...”

The eye contact alone is starting to feel scandalous and the hand on your lower back is wandering towards somewhere - not exactly inappropriate, but familiar.

“You make it difficult to gift you a sincere compliment.”

“You are not trying very hard, are you, Mister Bridgerton?”, you tease and brush your cheek against his with your next whisper. “I, for example, admire the way you let your hand dance over the paper when you draw, your steady, nimble hands. That concentrated look on your face when you fix your subject makes me want to give you a much better reason to look so focused.”

He clears his throat and as the dance puts you at a greater distance, you catch his intense gaze.

As soon as the dance ends and you have properly curtsied, he all but tugs you outside into the next carriage.

#Benedict Bridgerton #Bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x f!reader #bachelor's button

[yourplasticlittlespastic]

E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ - Series

Part 2

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff! Raw +18 warnings will come later in other chapters

Notes: That's right, I plan to make it a series. Not too short, not too long but enough! Benedict has stolen my days and nights and I've been daydreaming too much ngl.

WC: 3.5K

Humidity has reached its peak.

You cursed quite low as the sweat forming on your lower back created a wave of uncomfortableness and nevertheless, you were putting yet another layer of fabric. Madame Delacroix called it freshening and here you are, the third hour of trying out the fabrics of the newly imported cloth.

"Better than whalebone, is it not mon cherie?"

You looked at Madame Delacroix with the sense of cursing her too but you smiled rather sweetly "Steel you said? It is... better" You felt the structure of the corset, still very fitting and nothing different from the previous ones except for the metal strips on the side.

"Bien, we shall get it" The seamstress nodded and started working immediately and as you stood there; presence made statue and breath made a mere flow you saw people passing, your mother with her pupils dilated as the colours of fabric captured her you wondered if perhaps things could go more easily this season.

A sudden wave of hope filled you at the thought of not having Daphne around, not to confuse it with hate, you love the Bridgertons but the eldest sister made quite a chaos last time that unfortunately even if some pair of eyes landed on you, Daphne and the Duke took most for themselves.

When you returned to your house, adorned with the marble that was polished every morning of every day, you lay on your bed tired of doing absolutely nothing. Looking pretty in a burgundy dress is not a task that burns brain cells.

“Mama” you said with your head facing the ceiling and your legs swinging.

The woman who you were looking for entered the room, holding a cup of tea in her hands and a smile on her face, one that was painted so naturally, one that she passed to you.

“Yes, my dear?”

“May I go to the Bridgertons?”

“Now?” Your mother saw the agony on your face “I want you back before sunset”

“You must not worry” Your heels clicked on the ground as you got up, a smile on your face and the feeling of going to a friend's house instead of spending the day in your chambers “Finally, finally” you whispered clumsily going outside your grandiose mansion and breathing the powdery vs. Pollen of London’s air.

It was a three-minute stroll as you turned the block towards the Bridgertons; ultimately you saw the gates open and the carriage that was waiting outside.

The sun was shining as you looked upwards, the sky a shade of blue that reminded you of the ocean, the one that your father brought you to a couple of summers ago.

You knocked twice and waited for someone to open, a maid appeared and bowed.

“Miss Ashbourne”

“Morning Rose, may I?”

“Please, the ladies are-“

“In the drawing-room, I assume, as always”

“Miss Penelope is there as well"

"The more, the better. Thank you, Rose" With pose you took your dress and tried to walk inside the beautiful almost similar entree of the house but-

"Anthony?!"

You smiled at the voice and before stepping into the staircase you turned around and made your way to the other room; the one that always smelled like oils and wood.

“I believe your sight might be flawed… that or you quite meant I look like Anthony”

Benedict’s eyes lift from the painting, a smile spreading on his lips and you did the same.

“In spirit perhaps” he curved his lips “Forgive me Miss Ashbourne, the angle from this side is not ideal to see who walks around”

“Hmmm that’s alright,” you said stepping into the middle of the room, the tiles stained with long-forgotten strokes “How are you?”

“Not bad at all and you?”

“I could be better, a boring day it is but I meant if you were fine after art school and…” you stopped to see if you were not being impertinent but he seemed to put his wooden palette down and pierced his ears “I mean…”

“That’s kind of you to ask, Y/N” he shrugs “I’m dealing with it well, I’m content with what I’m doing right now and what happened there it was to be enjoyed”

“That’s good,” you said ready to leave the room “Well I shall leave you with your…” your eyes caught the painting, a room adorned with frames and curtains “Beautiful painting”

"Thank you, I'm still polishing it but thank you" He eyes you oh so slowly as he squinted his eyes “Would you like to stay for a while?”

“Oh”

“Come on, I’ve always enjoyed sharing words with you”

"Well..." You said unsure, you didn't want to leave him so fast after the kind words and the invitation, it was rude of you "I would like to"

"Good, you can sit right there" He pointed to the chair and you did what you were told, watching how Benedict moved the easel and the chair behind, you heard a bit of noise as the stool and his tools were put in a table, he sat down and looked at you

"Tell me, I know you’re a debutante this season”

You snorted that the sound made Benedict laugh in return “My days have been filled with the preparations for this season and my mama is driving me crazy because apparently, I don't know how to sit and breathe"

"What?"

“I move my chest too quickly that it looks like I’m always on the verge of an attack, that’s what she says. I never thought controlling my breathing would be a concern in my life but here we are”

How eyes had a mind of their own because they landed very briefly on the straight neckline of your dress and the mounds of your chest and he snapped only to say "She cares about you"

"I know" You shrugged “is just so… boring”

“What? Do you want some drama? Perhaps lady Whistledown-“

“Not the drama inked words can bring” you confessed “I do not know what I want from this season. Last one I was still an espectator and yet the chaos was too much to bear. This time… should I prefer quietness and routine? Or perhaps-“

“A scandal,” he said with a glint in his eyes “I would go for the latter but I'm not you"

"You think it's the right thing to do?"

"No, but I have a reputation to live up to" He smiles and you cannot help but laugh as his shoulders move in amusement "So I am the one to talk, aren't I?”

“Quite indeed you are, Benedict,” you said

“So” he smiled “can you spare some time so I can tell you how I achieved the perspective here?”

“I can spare a day or two”

“That’s real talking”

Benedict has always been keen on you. Your spirit reminded him of Anthony; how sharp and stubborn and your way of talking reminded him of Eloise; how straightforward and full of wit. Every time you found each other alone the conversation flowed like a river; the topics varied and he liked to be surprised, and you liked to surprise in return.

Today he was trying to explain to you how he was working on the perspective and the shading; you didn't understand half the things that were coming out of his mouth and yet you kept your attention on him, it was hard to do so as you saw how he moved his hand to demonstrate or the way he tilted his head with fervour.

It took a gentle few minutes for you to get into the atmosphere you always find with Benedict. The straight posture left your body as you moved your hands from your lap and made your way next to the canvas. Your nose could smell the painting and fresh oil splash on a jar. For all you know, Benedict Bridgerton, the tallest and silliest brother, had a way to make you feel yourself. Indeed with one and twenty years on this earth, you would say you have the closest for at least a solid seven with him: a good friend with good values and good lips, the former an observation you have assembled for the past two years.

“But who says that in the same painting orange and purple must avoid each other?” you asked staring at his fingers and the way he pointed at the canvas "hmmm?"

“You see, my professor said that the tones do not match and rather make the art cheap” he explained

"so" you laughed "if by any chance I decide to follow Lady Featherington's fashion trend and mix orange and purple in my wardrobe... I'll be considered cheap by your professor?"

He smiled looking down and hastily removed the curl from your side and allowed it to frame your face better "He would be mad to even think such a thing but please stay with your beautiful gowns, it makes your skin glow"

You stayed there feeling the pulsation at the back of your neck and the sudden urge to remain silent, the feeling of a blush forming and you were aware.

"Thank you" you whispered and moved away to see the painting closer, your hands behind your back.

"You're welcome" He smiled, not taking his eyes off of you and he saw how you were trying to avoid his stare.

Change the subject. You told yourself.

“Haven’t the styles changed over the years?" you asked out loud and trying very well to follow what your head was ordering "If orange and purple even join each other in the future I would be quite mad that it was not you who decided to pursue such an art transgression”

Benedict felt the most boyish with that compliment that he looked down and snorted all genuinely.

“We will see, I have several canvases ready to be corrupted and you. I mean you?” He smiled “How are your activities?”

Your smile grew large “Let me tell you about this book I’ve been reading, it has six volumes”

“I’m all ears, Miss Ashbourne”

That day apart from receiving multiple comments and opinions from Benedict about the biology books you stole from your father's library, you also received a scold from your mother alas you didn’t return when you were supposed to and you said you were encapsulated with the girls and the tea that tracking time was not good. Lost indeed between the smell of oil paintings and unfinished canvases.

And when debuting finally happened, oh so gracefully in front of the Queen. You smiled when it was over, the simple nod of Queen Charlotte alleviated any woes within your mother. You, Y/N Ashbourne a debutante with an ambitious mama by her side. The season was ready to begin.

A week was when you swore you could not feel your cheeks anymore. You have succeeded and had five suitors calling on you every day. The conversations were just a tad dry like the biscuits served by the Cowpers.

“Tighter”

Your squeal resonates only within you as your ladies tightened the corset and followed, as always, your mama’s orders.

“Tighter”

“Perhaps this is good, I feel like I might…”

“You are good my dear, tighter” your mother nodded

And the last squeal escaped your lips as you saw in the three mirror dresser how up your breasts appeared. After getting ready, with the greatest olive green beaded dress Madame Delacroix could design, you made your way to Lady Danbury’s Ball.

It was a night as expected. Your first dance was with a Viscount. He was old, not very handsome and didn't talk to you, you only nodded. The second was an Earl, you were thankful it was a waltz because it seemed that he was not keen on anything else than moving back and forth. The third much to your dismay and much to other girls’ amusement the Marquis of Ashdown stepped on your poor toes until you were destroyed not by dancing but by being in front of him.

“Quite young is he not?” Eloise said with a macabre smile

“Shush it, El. I am mostly embarrassed, he belongs in a nursery”

“And yet he is wife-hunting” she snickered “Nonetheless I must admit that if you two marry then you’ll downgrade from Ashbourne to Ashdown”

“Incredibly funny you are Eloise Bridgerton”

The night went as expected, everything as expected and nothing to be surprised about.

“Goodbye!” Eloise almost yelled that even you blinked in surprise and her quick getaway made you sense a male figure was coming your way so you turned and saw Lord Coxingworth, with his light blonde hair brushed backwards he requested a dance and finally your toes relaxed as well as your dancing skill made is debut; with such a dancer such as Lord Coxingworth.

“I may say that this has been a refreshing way to end my night” he smiled

“You are leaving?”

“I’m afraid so, Miss Ashbourne. My mother is not feeling fine”

“Oh my, then you ought to leave immediately. Give her my regards and please send me a letter once you reach home. I pray she recovers fastly and hopefully, your journey home won't take too long"

"I shall" He bowed and you smiled. “And I shall see you once this matter is settled. I shall pay a visit next week, Miss Ashbourne. You look gorgeous tonight"

You thanked him and watched how he disappeared into the crowd. It was the last dance of the night and yet your feet did not hurt as much after the success and your mother approved with a single nod.

You made your way to the back of the ballroom where Eloise was waiting with Penelope. Minutes later to what it seemed between giggles and quick banter, you saw a shadow passing and it stood quite tall beside Eloise. Benedict.

“Ah sister; mother is looking for you; something about at least being seeing for five minutes beside a man”

“I must leave too, my mother is…” Penelope distractedly said “She is… bye”

You turned to see Benedict with his pristine and flattened down dressing robe “They left me in bed company”

He acted hurt “ow how sorry I am, they left me with a good-looking girl” he shrugged “It’s a matter of perspective” he stared at the green dress “You look quite beautiful. How was the night, is it true you danced with the Marquis of Ashdown?”

“I fought a war with his feet, that was not a dance”

“Let the poor kid be, you are a fine dancer, better than anyone I know. So? He is going to pursue you?

You smiled “Only if his governess allows him”

He snorted and made a burning sound “Good girl” he sigh “What about Lord Coxingworth?”

“Oh… I think it went better than Ashdown”

“Hmmm”

“He said he ought to see me next week”

“Did he?” He sniffed “I think then you have a suitor then”

“Far from it,” you said and looked around “Before the end of this night I must go into Lady Danbury’s library”

“Are you…” he smirked, “Sneaking and stealing yet another book?”

“She once said I could take advantage of her collection”

“yes, only if you are inside the house” he debated with a laugh

“And I am not?”

“But you will not. You’ll get the book and leave the house with it”

“And…” you stood quickly on your tips “if no one sees anything… no one has to know”

He smiled and shook his head but formed an O with his mouth when he saw how swiftly you moved away from your spot. The beads on your dress shifted with you, the curls on your back bounced at the pace and he, the only accomplice in such a furtive task, joined you.

“Perhaps it is better to go back, they might be expecting us”

“Oh nonsense,” you said with the thirst for that book you knew Lady Danbury had, your hand turned the knob and your eyes sparked at the dark of the room that held the shadows of all the books “Eureka”

Benedict stood behind you, a small smile on his face as you searched for the book.

His eyes, like a thief, looked at your curves, the ones the dress did not hide and tried but also sneakily -in the theme of the night- to capture a glance of your oh-so-fast-moving chest your mother thinks you have.

“What is the book?” he asked

“A collection of poetry, not known, written by I believe anonymous people”

“Huh, controversial. Have you read other compilations?"

“Not now but if this one is good, I will try to get a hold of more… unusual editions. This one has the most beautiful cover and I can't help to imagine what it's about"

"I see" he whispered, his voice a bit deeper as his eyes landed on your face

"Do you have a problem?" You turned around to see his eyes were not on the shelves

"No, no, not at all. Let us do something. Open the book on any page and read it out loud. Let us judge it, not by the cover but by one page and one page at all”

You smiled widely at the idea and nodded, you moved around to be in front of him, your left shoulder leaning against a bookshelf allowing yourself to feel more relaxed.

“Alright then…” you cleared your throat and questioned where you could split the book, the beginning, the middle or the end. As your long fingers traced the last page, you told yourself that knowing the ending might ruin the whole thing even if it’s a poetry book “Here” you blindly said and split the book “Let me…” you cleared your eyes amidst the dark room

"In halls of opulence, where high society reigns,

A love forbidden, amidst whispered refrains.

She, a maiden of humble birth, with grace and charm untold,

He, a nobleman of lineage, with wealth and power bold.

Their hearts entwined in secret, amidst societal divide,

Forbidden love's sweet agony, where passions dare to hide.

For in their world of privilege, where status reigns supreme,

Their love is but a whisper, in a world of stifled dreams.

Yet in the hush of moonlit nights, beneath the stars' soft gleam,

They steal away in shadows, where love's light doth beam.

For in their hearts' defiance, they find a love divine,

A bond that knows no boundaries, in a world of rigid line.”

Your eyes darted up to look at him, you didn't expect his eyes to be already on you. His eyes had a certain glint, an emotion you could not pinpoint and as you waited, he cleared his throat.

“That was such a heartfelt piece” he nodded

“Very sad,” you said “I wonder if this person wrote it while going through it or wrote it as a memory of what once was”

“Knowing this world we live in, the latter”

“I enjoyed it” You closed the book and smiled at the cover, you could see the outline of the letters, “I’ll keep it for a while”

“Only if you read some to me too, if I have shared this task I shall share the prize”

You giggled “What a prize, a poetry book”

“Time with you I would say,” he said very quickly in a hoarse voice that he didn’t know he could do

Your heart did a thing, it beat hard and quick but also slow and you felt it was going to be out of your chest.

He was not expecting an answer and so he said "Let's get out of here"

"Yes, let's"

Once outside the room and with the book hidden in your dress, Benedict looked both sides of the hallway and gave you the thumbs up and you both made a run for it, a run for the stairs and to the exit door.

And there you stood, with the cool air hitting your face, with a smile so bright Benedict had to squint his eyes, the laughter came, loud and uncontrollably.

"Miss Ashbourne" He said once the laugh died, the joy in his eyes were still present "and I called myself a bad influence once did I not?”

“I learnt from you, Benedict”

It was the sound of his name coming from your mouth that made him shiver. He didn’t know how or why he felt such a pull. Such desire and such attraction. Unequivocally you were beyond what a diamond could be, the face of an angel he confessed but the natural and free aura that you radiated since he had memory is what made him be there with you at most times.

He didn’t know how it happened but he found himself quite close to your figure, under the night sky, he could see the warm lights crashing against your right side and the darkness hiding the left one.

“What is the name of the book?”

He asked such a simple question but with so much passion that if you were not wise enough to understand the tone, you would have thought he felt compelled to have the book right now.

You blinked at the soft wave of his brandy breath and saw the eyes that stared down -because of the height- and how intrigued he looked.

“Entwined”

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton/reader #smut #fic #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton oneshot #benedict bridgerton x you #fanfiction #smut fanfiction #18+ only #18+ content #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton smut

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Precious Truths: Part 3

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you've been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month's time.

Series Masterlist

Once at their door, you're insistently knocking on their door until someone opens it. Mrs. Wilson looks at you with confusion. Your chest is heaving, your eyes are wide, your hair in disarray, "Miss Y/N? Are you alright?"

"I need to see the Viscount and Viscountess immediately," you say urgently as you enter the Bridgerton home, gripping the older woman's arms to stabilize you.

"They're still freshening up for di-"

"Please! I need to see them! It's urgent!"

"Alright," the older woman nods at you, removing your hands from her, and rushes up the stairs to retrieve Anthony and Kate.

You're pacing in the foyer, fingers twiddling together as you're trying your best not to break down right then and there. You begin to mentally scold yourself for being so careless. You had done so well in the beginning, hiding your writings under your floorboards. You became careless. Your aunt was never one to snoop and your father was always in a drunken state. You figured neither of them would begin to look around your room, so you left your writings there.

Oh how wrong you were.

You look up to hear footsteps and see that Kate is the first one rushing down the stairs, "Y/N? What's wrong? Are you alright?"

You grab her arms to keep you steady as you shake your head, "My father found out and he's going to marry me off to my awful cousin. I need to find a husband quickly!"

"Found out? Found out what?" she asks you in confusion.

You don't answer her question as you continue on with your hysteric ramble, "Please, Kate, do you or Anthony know anyone who's looking for a wife?"

"Y/N, slow down. Wha-"

"What is wrong, Y/N?" Anthony asks as he finally approaches you in concern.

You look at him with wide eyes, "You need to help me find a husband."

You jolts in surprise, "What?"

"Darling, is everything alright?" Violet looks at the three of you with worry. She notes your distress, "I'll have Mrs. Wilson get ready some tea," she immediately goes to find her housekeeper.

Kate takes hold of your hand and guides you to the sitting room where you immediately plop yourself into the couch, throwing your head into your hands.

The Viscountess sits beside and puts a reassuring hand on your back, rubbing it soothingly. She looks up at her husband and mouths, 'Get Benedict.'

The Viscount immediately scurries off to find his brother.

"Deep breaths, Y/N. When you are ready, you must start from the beginning."

You sit up and wipe your now teary eyes. You take a deep breath and ready to speak, but your words get caught in your throat when Benedict enters the room.

Kate stands from your side and Benedict immediately takes her place, "Are you alright? Anthony said you were in distress."

You let out a shaky breath and give him a sad smile, "It's all gone wrong, Ben."

"What happened?"

You gulp and look up at Anthony and Kate who watch you with patient eyes, "What I'm about to tell you must not leave this room. It's imperative that no one, especially Whistledown, doesn't know."

"Know what?" Benedict asks.

You take another deep breath, "I'm Arthur Talbot."

Anthony looks at you in surprise. Kate looks at you like she's realized something. Benedict...you're not sure what the expression he's giving, but at least he doesn't look angry.

Kate can't help but chuckle, "It makes so much sense now. When you'd recite his words, it felt like they were your own. They were."

You nod and turn to Benedict, "You know how my papa forbade me from reading and writing poetry. I couldn't let it go, not when it was the one thing I had left of my mama. So I decided to write under a man's name, so my papa wouldn't know.

"But when I arrived home after our promenade, he was in my room. He found everything. He was so angry. He-" you look away in shame, "He struck me-"

"He struck you?" he asked you in disbelief. He feels a burning anger start to bubble within him. He never understood how one can be such a kind man and loving father, to a cold hearted man like your papa.

You sadly nod, "He said if I didn't find a husband within a month's time, he'll marry me off to my cousin Albert."

Benedict immediately winces, "He's atrocious," recalling back to the one summer that part of your family visited and your cousin was exuberant in trying to prove that he was much better at everything than Anthony. To put it plainly, the man was a twat.

"I know! So need your help," you place your gloved hands over Benedict's, and look to Kate and Anthony, "I need you three to help me find a husband. One with good social standing and is, at the very least, a decent man."

Kate and Anthony glance at each other and then Benedict, waiting for him to confess his feelings and propose to you, to save you from your horrid cousin.

Benedict watches his brother and sister-in-law, but then looks away. With a gulp, he says with a small, reassuring smile, "I'm sure my brother will be able to look into the available men of the ton and find you a good match."

Kate casts her head down in disappointment as Anthony steps forward, "You're practically family. I will do my best to help you."

"And you'll help too, right, Ben?" You look at him with hopeful eyes and Ben could feel him on the verge of breaking, so close to finally letting you know how he feels, that he doesn't want to help because no man deserves to see you the way he sees you.

He gives you a soft smile, "Yes. Of course, I'll help you."

__________________________

You've calmed down since abruptly showing up on the Bridgertons' door step. Kate and Anthony sit with you in the sitting room while Anthony starts gathering a list of eligible men for you. You're sitting tea staring blankly at the floor when your aunt is rushing into the room.

"Oh thank Heavens, you're alright!"

You place the tea cup down and stand, meeting your aunt, "I apologize for my abrupt leave, Aunt Eliza. I was...distraught."

"Yes, well, your father told me of your-" she eyes Kate and Benedict, "-situation."

You gesture to them, "They know. I told them, but they promise to not speak of my situation to anyone else."

"And does the Viscount know?"

You nod, "He does. Anthony, Kate, and Benedict are going to help me find a husband, so I don't have to marry Cousin Albert."

Aunt Eliza grimaces, "Absolutely not. The words to describe him are...they're not appropriate to express aloud." Benedict snorts in agreement.

"Lady L/N, I can assure you that the Viscount and I will do our very best to find a man deserving of L/N."

Your aunt nods to her, "Thank you, my lady," she sighs and gestures for you, "Come, Y/N. Your father is now asleep. You may come home, but tomorrow we will go to the modiste and request some new dresses."

"Yes, Aunt Eliza," you turn and hug Kate and give Benedict a nod, "Thank you for your help."

Benedict reaches out and grabs your wrist, "Let me know if you need anything or even just someone to talk to."

"Of course," you curtsey, "Good night."

You follow your aunt out of the Bridgerton estate and back to your home.

Kate pinches the bridge of her nose, "Why didn't you propose to her?"

"Why would I? She deserves someone of a better social standing."

"You are a Bridgerton."

"I am a second son and an artist. Not even a good since Anthony bought my way into the academy." Benedict leans back in the couch in despondence, "She deserves someone better."

"But you love her, do you not?"

"It is why I love her that I am helping her, because I cannot give her what she deserves." the second Bridgerton stands from his spot and excuses himself from the room, presumably to drink his heartache away.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #f!reader #fem!reader #female!reader

[yeollie-plz]

Rendezvous

Benedict Bridgerton x F! Reader

Synopsis: The ball was dreadfully boring, but you know what isn’t boring? Sneaking off to the library with Benedict.

Genre: smut!!, somehow I snuck some fluff in there

Warnings: smut, 18+ content, sneaking around, kissing, oral sex, public sex, handjobs, exhibitionism, choking

All gif credits to owners!

"Ben...please," you moaned out.

Currently the man in question was on his knees, hands bunching your dress up to your hips as his tongue made quick work of your pussy. His hot breath fanned out over your soaked folds as he lapped at your center.

He kept his rhythm as he willed you to your peak, working your bud in quick circles. Both of you knew you didn't have much time. Someone could catch you at any moment and if you weren't so caught up in the moment you might have even been scared of this fact.

Benedict's tongue flicked your clit particularly hard, causing your hips to jerk forward and your hands to grip his hair, roughly. The feeling of you pulling his hair had him moaning, the vibration causing you to grip the follicles once again.

This time his hands gripped onto your thighs. Fingers pushing so deeply into your soft flesh that you were sure they were to leave bruises.

Another moan of his name egged him on, making him move his tongue inhumanly faster. Working it in figure eights in an attempt to push you over your edge, knowing how much you both needed it. And needed to return to the ball...

The library wall you were pushed against almost twenty minutes ago was now lacking some of the books that once lay on its shelves. With the aggressive kisses that had you gripping for anything that could center you and the way Benedict had lifted you up onto one of them just to be able to get even closer to you. A maid was sure to find this in the morning and question the activities that had graced this room the night prior, but you were not one to focus on the future. Not when the present was so, so distracting.

And oh so delicious. How could a tongue feel so good? How did he fell so good?

Your head tossed back as your stomach began to tighten with your impending orgasm. Just as your vision was beginning to turn fuzzy, there was voices from outside the door. Very distinct voices and footsteps coming towards the very room you two currently occupied.

Benedict's head snapped up to meet your eyes. Your orgasm long since forgotten as he quickly pulled away from between your legs. He rose to his feet pushing your dress back down as he did so. The two of you glanced around trying to think of what to do.

Right as your eyes landed on a desk a few steps to your right so did his. It was a large desk and if the two of you were determined, the both of you could fit under there without being seen.

The doorknob turned and you both rushed over to the desk, pushing your bodies under it just in time for the voices to enter the room. The two of you were confined under the desk, your back against his chest as you tried to catch your breath not wanting to give yourselves away.

The group continued to chat across the room. Your breath had finally began evening out just as Benedict leant down to whisper into your ear.

"Compromising position we've found ourselves in, Miss Y/L/N." The statement almost had you letting out a giggle.

"We've been finding ourselves in many compromising positions as of late, Mr. Bridgerton." You whispered back, this statement did have Benedict letting out a low chuckle. The sound resonating in your back, the lift of his chest making you lift forward as well.

That's when you felt it, his hardened member currently sitting very uncomfortably in his tight pants. He knew you had realized too, with how your body stiffened as it rubbed against your hip bone.

"I apologize, my dear, but with our efforts earlier and the way you are close to me now. Well, it might not go away for a minute." His head hung low, almost resting on your shoulder. His lips were dangerously close to that sweet spot between your neck and collarbone.

And as he exhaled, the cold air that ghosted your skin caused a chill to run down your spine. Your ass rubbed against Benedict's boner. His hands gripped onto your hips in warning, head snapping back up as if you could see the cold stare that was surely gracing his face.

"My love..." He warned, as if the knuckles that were now turning white with how tightly he held your body wasn't warning enough.

The voices were clear on the other side of the room so you disregarded his warnings and reached your hand behind you instead. Your hand made contact with his muscular thigh first. Opting for a light touch instead of the rough one he was still currently using on you.

But as your fingers got closer to the buttons of his breeches, all reserves that he might have had were thrown out the window. Instead his own hands were swatting yours away to aid you in undoing his pants.

This satisfied you, a smirk gracing your lips as he laced his fingers with yours and pulled your hand under the flap of his pants. The heat that radiated off of his skin felt like hot candle wax as your smooth fingertips danced along hip. You lifted up ever so slightly, to be able to get a better grip of him and Benedict almost groaned out at the lack of connection. Yet, he bit his tongue and let you get to work. Knowing that if he were to complain, even a little bit, you would stop.

He knew you too well after months of your little rendezvous to ever show his ass or have his ass handed to him instead.

So that’s why Benedict sat on his hands and let you take control. Well, he didn’t actually sit on his hands, no, those were all over you. As soon as your hand made contact with his almost painful member, his were in your hair pulling your head back for easier access to your neck.

He kissed down from your chin, across your collar bone, and so devilishly close to your breasts. As you worked his cock agonizingly slowly. Your hand gripped the base of it working up and down it slowly, teasing the tip as you reached it.

If they were anywhere else, he would’ve asked her to go faster, begged her even. But right here, right now he almost thanked her for taking her time, or else he lose himself.

Footsteps grew even closer to your hiding spot, but you did not stop your motions. Actually, you began to pick up your pace a bit. Benedict who was surprisingly composing himself well only moments before was now forced to cover his mouth with a hand in order to stifle any sounds that might escape him.

The desk shifted slightly, someone was now leaning against it. You almost let out a gasp in shock, your hand ceased its movements. Benedict’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, not even noticing the person just above him. He was way too focused on what he thought was you teasing him. So his hands gripped onto your neck and tightened.

Something that, in normal circumstances, would egg you on. But instead it had you grabbing his wrist in warning, his grip instantly relaxed unsure if he had harmed you. In an effort to calm his nerves and warn him of your new friends, you snapped your head around to look at him. Your finger going back and forth between a shushing motion and pointing above the two of you.

He soon got the hint and nodded slowly. Although, you could tell by how his eyes darken that he didn’t much care for the company.

It was shocking. A man who usually was so plagued with jealously was currently excited by the prospect of getting caught?

But as soon as the company was gained it was stalking off the other side of the room again. You wanted to groan at how long it was taking them to leave. Most people would have returned to the party by now. You should’ve returned to the party by now. Oh, your poor mama would be so worried. Wait, Benedict…

You shook the thoughts of your mama out of your head and returned them to the man under you. Decidedly, you slowly flipped yourself around to face him. You were now on your knees, ass pressed firmly into the wood of the other side of the desk.

Benedict smirked at the look of you bent over for him, hands holding the sides of your face trying to pull your lips up to his. Your obliged and kissed him. It had been much too long since his lips had been on yours. Almost forty minutes now, by your calculations. Much, much too long.

Not too long into the kiss you brought your hand back to his abused cock. He bit your lip as your fingers gathered up the precum that was beading at his tip.

You pulled your lips from his long enough to push your fingers into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around your digits, lapping up all of his essence. Your eyes gleamed at the sight.

With your fingers still in his mouth he smirked, he grabbed your wrist to slowly pull this out, kissing the tips of your fingers before returning your hand to his member. Not too soon after he returned his lips to yours.

He tried to match your rhythm on his dick with the rhythm of his lips. Moaning into your mouth every time your hand wrapped around the head of his cock.

All the teasing of the night was bringing him quickly to his orgasm. So as his hips bucked up into your hand you worked him faster to help him reach his peak.

Benedict’s hips stuttered as you detached your lips from his only to bring them down to his sensitive tip. You licked him quickly before sinking down fully, taking almost his full length inside of your mouth.

This is what sent him over the edge as you pulled your head back and sunk down once again he was coming undone inside of your waiting mouth. You swallowed down all of his seed as he thrust up into your mouth. Hands gripping your hair and pulling at it.

And just as the last shocks of his orgasm were subsiding he let his head knock back into the heavy wooden desk. Your eyes popped up to him in shock as you pulled yourself quickly off of his now spent cock.

He let out a very small whimper at the disregard for his sensitivity and looked at you. The hurt that conveyed his face for a second switched quickly to one of equal concern as he realized what had happened.

The conversation just on the other side of you two stopped in favor of looking over to your hiding place.

“What was that?” A voice said. More grunts of confusion came from some of the others.

You held your breath as the footsteps came closer to you once again. No, no, no this was not how the two of you were supposed to be caught. You would be ruined and forced to marry Benedict. Not that that would be a bad thing, I mean you did love him. But you wanted the proposal to come on your own time, not like this.

Just as the group was about to come around the edge of the desk, the door to the library opened once again and a servant ushered the group to an important matter. They left the room and the door closed behind them.

You took just a second before you were popping your head over the edge of the desk to check to coast was clear. “They are gone.” You said to no one apparently because Benedict was already fully standing up and offering you his hand to help you.

When you both returned to your feet, and clothes were out back into their rightful places, you looked at the man before you. His eyes glowed in the candlelight. His dark hair somehow still perfect even though you were sure you had ruined it. And that jawline…this man was perfect.

He must have felt your eyes on him because in that moment he looked over at you and cocked an eyebrow. You only smiled and shook your head. That’s when he burst out laughing.

“What? What’s so funny?” You tried to question but he just continued laughing and eventually you laughed too.

The two of you laughed for what felt like five minutes before finally running out of breath. Stomachs hurting from the giggle spell.

“I love you.” He said all of a sudden, now overly serious.

“I love you. ” You matched his energy as you replied.

“It’s a wonder they didn’t notice this mess.” Benedict gestured to the pile of books you had knocked over when you had originally came into the room.

“Probably a good thing they didn’t. Wouldn’t want us getting caught.” You didn’t look at him, opting for continuing to stare at the books instead.

“If it’s with you, I wouldn’t mind getting caught.”

Now you looked at him, “You’d so easily sully my reputation?” You questioned, with a hint of jest.

He smiled, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You nodded. You did know what he meant.

He cleared his throat and closed the distance between the two of you.

“We’ve been gone a while now.” He started as he brought his hands to your hips once again. “Might as well be gone even longer.” He paused again this time to bring his face closer to yours, his breath fanning out over your face.

“Where were we?” He asked as he lifted you up onto the desk you were once hiding under.

“Oh, that’s right.” Benedict said as he brought his lips to yours.

#fanfiction #fanfic #bridgerton writer #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #Benedict bridgerton fluff #Benedict bridgerton fanfic #Benedict bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton smut #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton story #benedict bridgerton story

[gracieheartspedro]

About You

how to help gaza

pairing: colin bridgerton x f!reader, brief benedict bridgerton x reader action

description: finally ready to get off the marriage mart, your family arranges a marriage to a bridgerton. but not the one you have always desired.

word count: 2.4k words

author’s note: hiiii folks. this is part one so more coming soon. I wrote it in an hour after I watched pt1 of season 3. I only edited it a couple times. plus there’s a lack of colin content on this website. so i’m here, filling the void ❤️

You had waited for this night your whole life. The night you would be proposed to. 

Your mother had ensured you wore your finest gown, a soft purple dress with beautiful sparkles and embellishments. She even gifted you a necklace your grandmother had worn the night of her engagement. 

It was a huge moment for everyone involved. But you could not help but feel a pit in your stomach. You wanted to call them nerves, but it was more so you knew you were making a mistake. 

When you arrive at Lady Danbury’s estate, you and your parents step out of a horse-drawn carriage and into a beautifully decorated ball. The candles lined the entrance, and red and white roses encapsulated the entire space. 

You did the typical introductions and curtsies. You thanked Lady Danbury for throwing such a captivating event for your special moment. She smiled and told you that it had to be mesmerizing for such anticipation. You felt light-headed thinking of all the eyes that would be on you tonight. 

You found your way to the ballroom, where ladies and gentlemen alike were already dancing. You find your way around the room, instantly finding a group of ladies you had made acquaintance with before. The four of you chat and they all share that they cannot wait to watch the Bridgerton boy propose to you in front of the masses. 

It makes you sick to your stomach. 

You excuse yourself to find some lemonade on one of the many tables. You would prefer some champagne, but alcohol does not make it right for you. It does not allow any clarity. So, you stand alone, trying to collect your thoughts and not freak out too much before anything happens. 

“There’s my gem.”

His voice is deeper when it’s right in one of your ringlet curls. It also doesn’t help that he’s saying it for your ears only, making the comment even more sensual. 

Colin Bridgerton was terrible at being just your friend. He was always too close to you, always searching you out in a crowd, and constantly waiting around for you at social events. 

He had been doing it for years before he disappeared on a world tour. You knew your time on the marriage mart was over when your mother and father, a Duke and Duchess, pulled aside Violet Bridgerton and begged her to pawn one of her sons off onto you. And while she would have easily convinced Colin, he was in Italy learning about The Pantheon and had stated he had no intentions marrying. 

So, Benedict would have to do.

You turn to face the taller gentleman, ensuring your posture was fixed to that of a Lady. 

“Mister Bridgerton, what do I owe the pleasure?” You falter to formalities, rather than your normal banter with him. You knew people would be watching you like a hawk, as tonight was the night Benedict was going to try to secure a proposal. 

“I have not seen you in a year and suddenly you speaking to me as if I am a stranger,” His voice is confident, but his eyes read the same insecure boy you remember. 

You let out a sly chuckle, “Well, we practically are at this point, are we not? You are the Ton’s most eligible bachelor as soon as you returned from your tour  and I feel like the man gracing me with his presence is not the man I once knew.”

He seems taken aback by your comments, his face dropping a bit. 

“I’ve been hearing whispers amongst the Ton that you’re getting a proposal,” He halts, taking a sip of the lemonade slid between his fingers, “From my brother?”

You hear the jealousy laced in his voice, but you try your best not to call him out on it. You turn around, still shoulder-to-shoulder with the man. “One can only hope, Mister Bridgerton. It would only be my pleasure to join the family.”

“As Benedict’s missus?”

You want to scream at him, but your trained politeness is engrained deep within every fiber of your being. 

“Well, I have you know, that it was arranged by your Mama and my parents. It is simply a way to join our families. You know my Mama and yours have always taken to one another. I did not know you would have such an issue with it.”

Before he can say more, you spot Benedict across the ballroom chatting with Eloise and Francesca. He meets your eyes and gives you a curt nod and smirk. You nod back, knowing that he would approach you once the conversation concludes. You had this whole act down to a science. 

Because that’s what it was for you. An act. A way to make your parents get off your back. It was no love match, it was only practical. Benedict was a gentleman, into the arts, comfortable with moving away from the city. He was everything you needed, just not what you wanted. 

“I leave for a bit of time and suddenly my own brother is courting my best friend,” Colin groans, shifting in his spot. You return your gaze back to him, trying to understand why tonight had to be the night that he fought for you. The term best friend had a bite to it, as well. While you were a lady, you had already shared a kiss with a few boys, including Colin. While you two were underage and not able to make such distinct decisions on marriage, you knew that the feelings you had for him were shared. 

What was so frustrating was that he could never actually confess such feelings. You could see it in his eyes when you glanced his way, but the words never slipped his lips. He only shot flirtations at you and then there was no action as a follow-up. It made your mind race and spin. You started to believe that it was not flirtations at all and it was all just teasing.

“I think you are missing out on the key point in your conjecture, Colin,” You lick your lips, moving only a bit closer to him so no one can hear your words, “You left me. I stayed here and pondered what another season would be like without you. And of course, at the very end of such an event, you decide to be cruel.”

“How am I being cruel, Miss? I am simply stating that you are choosing someone I care about for expedience and not for love.”

“You are being cruel by approaching me and acting like you are even half aware of the circumstances you are speaking of.”

He chuckles, trying not to entertain your comments. “I am well aware that you have always wanted a love match. You know that is not what you are getting with Benedict, Gem.”

Your throat tightens because you know he is right. You have dreamed of a love match since you were a precocious child, enduring all the teasing him and Eloise about it. 

And you knew deep down that the love match you wanted was with him. 

The damn nickname he gave you years ago continues to get a rise. You can feel your face get flushed, the heat rising all the way down your neck and chest. 

“Who said I needed a love match, Mister Bridgerton?!”

You never meant to be loud, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, you realize everyone staring your way. You had seriously messed up. 

Colin did not even look away from your completely shell-shocked expression. He was not focused on the glares and whispers, he only cared that the woman he was in love with was about to marry his brother. He could not let that happen. 

The feeling of embarrassment made every part of your body jittery. You decided that the exit seemed like the best option, so you made your way past everyone and ran to the back garden of the Danbury estate. The flowers that lined the railings made the tears in your vision sparkle like fireworks. 

You try your best to suppress the useless waterworks, but the emotions get the best of you. You felt humiliated that you had to explain your motives to a man who hardly knew you anymore. What does he know?

You find a corner to hide in, making sure your face is hidden away from the exit. When you hear footsteps approach, you pray it’s not a Bridgerton. Sadly, you’re disappointed. 

“What did Colin say to you?”

You remove your cream glove, ensuring no tear touches such an expensive fabric. You needed to collect yourself a bit before turning to face Benedict. So you dab your eyes with your fingertips and spin to face him. He looks concerned, his hand reaching for yours. 

“I am so sorry, Lord Bridgerton. He got the better of me and he still knows how best to irritate me,” your eyes well up again with tears, “I do apologize for not being more put together.”

He squeezes your hand reassuringly, “Do not apologize. I expected him to be a bit tormented by the whole situation.”

You furrow your brows, quizzically. “What ever do you mean?”

“Well, he told my Mama last season that he did not want to marry because you were courting Lord Jacques. That is why he left early for his travels.”

The revelation makes your heart skip a beat, “Why would him marrying have anything to do with me?”

You try to play dumb so maybe you could get more out of the man, but instead of answering you, he just shakes his head. His focus drops, and as soon as you lose fixation on his actions, you notice Colin loitering around the exit. You drop Benedict’s hand and sidestep to get the man in your line of vision. 

“You have never been good at hide and seek, Mister Bridgerton,” You say with spite, “Step into the light.”

His slow meander only makes you more angry. 

“Now, why is my brother alone with my best friend in the garden? Seems like a scandal waiting to happen.” 

Benedict snickers, “Seems like we were never alone, brother. You appear to be around every waiting corner.”

You cross your arms, annoyed with both men and sick of the mortification. You could not help but appreciate Benedict’s snarky nature, it has always thrown Colin off his game. You clear your throat, bringing their eyes to you. 

“I wish to understand why you lied to me about leaving early last season.” 

Colin’s disposition changes as soon as you say it. Last season, Colin left abruptly and wrote you saying it was because of a learning opportunity in Vienna. You took his word for it, but based on what Benedict had just told you, that was a lie. 

“Pardon m-”

“Colin, why did you lie about leaving the season early?”

“Gem, I really do not know where you got this information.”

“Oh, give me a break, Colin. You told me and Anthony that you did not wish to marry unless a girl like her came around. When you realized she was interested in another, you left.” 

Colin races forward, grabbing onto the man to your left. He tugs his vest coat and brings him inches from his own face. The action rattles you, but you remain composed. 

“I told you that in confidence!”

“And you are making her upset with your mind games! If you had just said what your heart’s truth was, you would be the one celebrated tonight. Instead, you stand by and fume over a woman you can no longer have.”

Colin clenches his teeth, “Who said I can no longer?”

Your stomach flips, unsure of how Colin could be so possessive of you. Benedict seems shocked as well because he nudges the man off of him and glances over at you. You realize that this is Colin’s way of confessing his intentions, but you cannot believe that he has to say it on the night of your engagement.

“You are brazen to concur such a thing.”

Colin finally looks at you, taking note of your shaky voice. “So, you are going to marry him?”

The unsettle in your heart has never gone away ever since you were told about the arrangement. You knew that your heart was telling you to run the other way, but you did not want to let down your family. You had taken kindly to Benedict, promenading almost every other day to get to know one another. 

“I have not been asked yet, so I am not quit-”

Colin steps forward taking your hand, “What if I asked you first? Would you accept me? My hand, I mean?”

Benedict steps forward, touching his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Gem, will you marry me?”

A tear slips past your lashes, your heart just about exploding within your chest. Colin’s eyes are desperate, pleading with you.  You are not sure what to say, every possible word escaping you. 

You realize you are panting, the breath leaving your lips labored in panic. You flick your sights over to Benedict, who is stunned but not trying to get Colin to retract his query. You revert your gaze back to Colin’s deep blue eyes.

“Why now?”

He takes a deep breath, “Because I am absolutely useless with my emotions and I have only humiliated myself when I express them. I did not think you would ever consider my hand and had I known that you thought kindly of me I would have told you the first moment you debuted. But I cowered in silence, hoping the emotions I have felt since I was a child would subside. But I have searched every corner of this world and I did not find one lady that made me feel the same emotions I feel when I even just look your way. I hate that it took me so long to realize that you are the only woman I will ever really… love.”

The confession is exactly what you need to change your mind. Because you felt the exact same way. All this time you have been running from the emotions you felt every moment Colin stared in your direction. You thought them immature and vain. But every time you watched him dance with another, the fire within you would burn. You were sick of loving him from far away. 

“The Ton believes me to be promised to Benedict. The embarrassment he will suffer if I accept your proposal could be deafening-”

“Do not worry about me, Miss,” Benedict says, pacing with his hands on his hips, “I could never fully live with myself coming between two lovers. I only waiting for him to realize what we have all been subjected to the last 3 years.”

Colin smirks at him, “And what’s that?”

“The torture of loving someone and not giving in to temptation.”

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[agxxb]

Hi! I would love if you wrote the scene where Kate get stung by the bee and Anthony freaks out but instead of Kate and Anthony it’s Benedict and reader and after she calms him down they smash cause he’s so relieved she’s ok 💖

hii!! i really hope you enjoy ◡̈

We’ll Bee Okay .𖥔 ݁ ˖

benedict bridgerton x f!reader

warnings: smut. loss of virginity. use of pet names (my love, darling). vaginal fingering. vaginal penetration. first time together. benedict is a consensual king. use of ‘y/n’. praise. [2k]

You and Benedict had always been close, having grown together. The two of you were best friends, which made admitting your mutual feelings easy. It was silently known before it was said aloud, the gentle smiles and soft touches shared only becoming more frequent as time passed.

You had been courting for just over a month and it was clear to anyone that the two of you were in love. Your eyes shone brighter whenever you looked in his direction, admiring the man like he placed each star delicately in the sky.

Benedict gently took ahold of your hand, linking your arm through his. You smiled up at him, slightly tightening your grip on his arm.

He had arrived at your house an hour prior, a bouquet of roses in his hand. Benedict loved to buy you gifts, often spoiling you despite telling him he didn’t have to.

You turned a corner into flower garden, a fountain placed in the middle; the droplets of water bounced off the surface and flew out, landing in the soil. Walking over to stand by it, the two of you were surrounded by nature, taking a long moment to appreciate it.

“You are so beautiful,” you heard Benedict say, and your cheeks flushed, turning as pink as the tulips near you.

“Thank you,” you replied and breathed out softly, happily. “You are also beautiful.”

Benedict grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to top of it. Your smile widened at his action, fighting the urge to giggle out of pure joy. He unlinked your arms, instead taking your hands in his and turning to face you.

“You make me so incredibly happy, Lady Y/N,” Benedict began, his thumb caressing the delicate skin of your knuckles. He loved how soft your skin was, always wanting to be touching you in one way or another.

Before either of you could respond, you flinched slightly at the feeling of a small prick on the side of your arm. A small buzz was heard as a bee flew around nearby, and you sadly sighed to yourself as you realised it would now die.

You turned back to Benedict and apologised for the interrupted moment. However, as your eyes met his blue ones, you noticed his face had paled.

“You do not look well.”

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, though rather quickly. He gently took your arm in his hands, eyes locked on the sting mark to see how severe it was.

“Benedict, I can assure you, I am completely fine,” you smiled, not yet realising his genuine panic to the situation. “I have been stung plenty of times.” He began to hyperventilate, his grip on your arm becoming slightly tighter. “Are you okay?”

You put your hands on either side of his face, heart breaking at his expression. His hands frantically grabbed at your waist, pulling you towards him.

“You cannot die,” he said breathlessly, gulping despite his dry throat. “I cannot lose you. Please. I love you.”

“Benedict, I’m fine,” you repeated when you heard his muttering. You took his hands in yours, bringing them up and holding them to your chest. You took deep breaths, making sure he was following along with you. “I’m okay, you’re okay.”

“You’re okay…” Benedict repeated, his voice cracking slightly. It was almost as if he was convincing himself, rather than simply copying your words.

You leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I’m okay, My Darling,” you promised, pressing another kiss to his nose, and finally his lips. Benedict breathed out through his nose, eyes closing as he felt your touch. “I love you.”

You had become his reason — his reason for existing, for breathing, for waking up each morn. You grounded him, humbled him, cheered for him. You loved him, and he did you.

Pulling away, your foreheads rested against each other — two pillars of strength, holding one another up. Benedict breathed out once more, feeling the terror leave his body and relief replace it. You were close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips.

“Perhaps we should head back,” you suggested quietly, not wanting anything else to set your lover off. You couldn’t bear to see him so scared, so worried. Benedict nodded in agreement, a small smile on his face as he – once again – took ahold of your hand.

The somewhat short carriage ride was almost silent, Benedict squeezing your hand every now and then as if to make sure you were still there. You rested your cheek against his shoulder, head moving up and down in rhythm with his breaths.

Once having arrived at your family’s house, you stepped through the entrance and led Benedict towards the staircase, climbing it and walking down the hallway until you stopped in front of a white door. Your family would not be home for a few more hours.

“Would you like to come in?” you offered, seeing a smile make its way onto his face.

“It would be inappropriate for me to enter your bedroom before we are wed, would it not?” Benedict teased, though made no move to leave. His smile suddenly fell, and your eyebrows furrowed in worry. “I had reason for our outing today, but…” He sighed.

“You had something planned?” you asked, heart warming with how thoughtful he was. He truly was the most perfect man for you.

Without responding, Benedict reached into his left trouser pocket, pulling out a small black box. He opened it, turning it around for you to see a diamond ring inside. You gasped in awe, eyes widening slightly as you realised what he was showing you.

“You were going to propose…” you said in realisation, looking away from the ring and up at him, tears pooling in your eyes.

Benedict nodded. “I am going to propose,” he corrected before kneeling down, holding the ring out to you. “Lady Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you whispered, a tear falling down your cheek. A grin broke out on his face as he stood up, pressing his lips against yours with a hand on your cheek, thumb wiping away the fallen tear.

The kiss started out soft and gentle, but quickly became passionate, deeper. Your hands slid up his chest to lock around his neck, pulling him closer. You reached behind you to open the door, both moving backwards into your bedroom. Benedict kicked it closed behind him, you pushing his jacket off of his shoulders and onto the floor.

His kiss was full of desperation, bringing his free hand to the tied lace at the back of hour dress, trying to loosen them. His lips moved down to your neck, a soft moan leaving your parted lips at the feeling.

Benedict groaned at the sound, walking you back towards the bed and letting your dress fall to the floor. Gently laying you down on top of the sheets, he stood back and began unbuttoning his shirt, allowing you to watch as his toned torso came into your view. You bit your lip as his shirt fell from his body, leaving the man half-naked before you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said quietly, almost as if it were a secret between the top of you.

He climbed on top of you, hovering over your body and peppering light kisses against your neck once again. His hand came down to undo his trousers, your eyes focusing on his cotton briefs. You had seen them before, but never on someone.

You began to squirm, feeling the ache between your legs grow stronger as your lover undressed himself. You lightly moaned, reaching a hand out to touch him. Your hand made contact with the bare skin of his stomach, the warmth exuding into your palm. “Please…”

Benedict smiled, pushing up the skirt of your chemise and, with your help, pulling it over your head. He leaned down, holding himself up over you once again. He kissed you, soft and passionately.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You nodded. “I need words, My Love.”

“Please touch me. Please.”

“Good girl.”

His hand ran down your body, palm flat against your waist. He admired you, adored you, worshipped you. You were his religion. Your existence redefined poetry for him; everything you embodied had become the meaning of art to his eyes.

His middle finger moved down and your hips jolted. He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, slowly sliding a finger into you. You gasped, hand shooting out to grab his wrist. His response was to pump his finger in and out of you, thumb moving up to circle your swollen clit.

Benedict smiled at your reaction to him adding a second finger, your eyes rolling back as he curled them. “Oh, my-” you moaned, hand moving up to grip his bicep, feeling the muscles move under your hold.

Pleasure consumed you, moaning every time his fingers reentered and curled inside you. Your eyebrows scrunched together, mouth falling and staying open as whines left freely.

You tightened around Benedict’s fingers, a sign that you were close. “Let go for me, Darling,” he whispered, and pleasure swept through your entire body like hot, molten lava. Your legs shook around his hand as his thumb still rubbed your clit, guiding you through your orgasm.

You took a deep breath, eyes immediately searching for his. “That was incredible,” you thanked him, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. He kissed back, his face soon breaking out with a smile, one which you quickly reciprocated.

“Did you want to stop?” Benedict asked, not even being able to finish the sentence before you were shaking your head, hand around the back of his neck to bring him closer.

“Need more, Benedict,” you moaned, kissing his cheek and down to his neck. “Please.”

He let out a moan, pulling away to look at you. “Are you sure?”

“Wholeheartedly. We are to be wed, you are the only man I want.”

Benedict pressed another kiss to your lips before pushing his cotton briefs down. Your eyes widened as you looked down, seeing how hard he was. You had been told stories of what happened between man and woman on their wedding night, your mama having explained before you were set to debut at the 1810 social season.

“It’s so… big,” you breathed out, Benedict chuckling at your reaction.

He lined himself up at your entrance, pressing in slowly. Tears pricked at your eyes as he continued to push into you, a moan leaving his mouth at your warmth. He grabbed your hand and held it tightly, pushing it into the pillow beside your head.

“I’m sorry, My Love,” he said, wiping away the tear that had fallen with his thumb. “It won’t hurt in a moment.”

Benedict started to gently thrust into you, and you quickly felt the pain turn into pleasure. You gripped at his arms, moaning into his ear as his face rested in the crook of your neck. He was panting, loving how wet you were — and all for him.

You begged him to speed up, the slapping of his thighs hitting the back of yours. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him in closer, deeper.

It wasn’t long before you began to feel the knot tighten in the bottom of your stomach again. You pulled Benedict out from your neck and down into a kiss. His right hand moved down, rubbing circles on your clit as you pulled away to moan.

You let the pleasure consume you, eyes squeezing shut as you clung onto your fiancé. Feeling you clamp down around him set his own orgasm off, Benedict pushing his hips as close to yours as possible, going as deep as he could.

He moaned, his body falling onto yours, though making sure not to crush you with his body weight. You wrapped your arms around him, fingertips lightly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He left kisses along your jaw before pulling out and rolling to your side, the two of you lying in content silence.

Benedict kissed your shoulder delicately. “I cannot wait to spend my life with you.”

#agxxb #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton fanfic #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton

[missjadesfics]

The Painter and the Poet

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader dividers @cafekitsune @rookthornesartistry @firefly-graphics gifs: @greengableslover @lydiimae Summary: Benedict Bridgerton falls in love with his best friend and helps inspire her for her latest love poem. Warnings: soft sex, first time, Benedict being an adorable man in love, oral sex (f receiving), Word Count: Disclaimer: I don't own Bridgerton or its characters, nor do I claim them as my own. Comments likes, and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx Remember, if you want to be tagged in any of my works, please comment on my pinned post so I can easily find your comments easily.

Tonight was the first ball of the season, hosted by Lady Danbury. Y/n walked through the ballroom, helping make sure everything was in place. Since the passing of her parents, Lady Danbury became her guardian, and in turn, Y/n became close friends with the Bridgerton family. She loved them all as if they were her siblings. But there was one in particular she loved more than a friend. She was always afraid he wouldn’t reciprocate her affections, but she was wrong. He, too, harboured feelings for her but was also scared to reveal his true feelings. So, in their friendship and growing up together, they stayed close but far enough apart to keep their hidden feelings at bay. Y/n heard Lady Danbury’s voice echo through the halls as Y/n turned around. “I have acquired a new dress from Madame Delacroix. My little gift for you, my dear.” Y/n smiled brightly, embracing Lady Danbury before running up the stairs to change into her new dress as guests began to arrive. Lady Danbury welcomed everyone with a gracious smile, a polite compliment, or a witty remark. 

Y/n admired her new blue silk and lace gown, smiling as she twirled around in front of the mirror.  She made her way to the staircase and heard the lively chatter of the ton and the music of the quartet; her eyes scanned the room before landing on the Bridgertons, who were all in attendance. Dowgaer Vicountess Violet stood proudly with her children, her smile beaming as her wrist delicately swished her small fan to keep herself cool. Viscount Anthony, the oldest son and considered the most handsome of the Bridgerton sons, stood tall, his hands clasped behind his back as he scoured the room for potential wives from himself. Next to him was Colin, who was adventurous and always quickly whipped with jokes at social events. His arm looped with his mother’s, but Y/n’s eyes soon fell on the one Bridgerton that made her heart pound; it was almost as if he could feel her eyes on him.

Benedict turned, and a beautiful wide smile graced his face; his feet carried him towards Y/n at the bottom of the staircase. “Lady Y/n”, Benedict breathed, his dark brown eyes filled with a mesmerising gaze Y/n blushed as Benedict bowed gracefully, his hand stretched out for her to hold. Y/n’s gloved hand slid along his palm. Violet and Anthony watched with curiosity, both of them smiling at the pair as Lady Danbury joined them. “Is it too early to say there is a match?” She smirked, leaning on her cane and glancing out the corner of her eye at Violet.

The two Bridgerton daughters, Daphne and Eloise, giggled together, seeing their brother and friend share a dance with each other. Benedict wrapped his arm around Y/n’s waist, pulling her close; a soft gasp left her lips. Benedict gave his signature smile, sending her heart fluttering. Her eyes focused on his. They were so lost in each other’s gaze they almost forgot the dance came to an end. Y/n curtsied, giggling lightly as Benedict bowed, offering his hand again. Benedict brought Jade over to his family, who warmly embraced her. Violet gasped. “You both danced so wonderfully together, ideally suited for one another.” She praised Y/n, and Benedict looked at one another with a loving smile. “Thank you, Viscountess, but I’m sure a lady out there would be more suited for Benedict than me. We are very close friends, as we always have been,” Y/n expressed, pretending not to show anything on her face. Violet raised a brow at the young girl’s choice of words; nothing could get past Violet Bridgerton; she knew the look of love all too well, and she most certainly knew when one of her children was in love. 

The night drew to a close, and all the lords and ladies left Lady Danbury’s manor after a long night of dancing and talking. Some came away with secured matches, while some remained unmatched. Benedict Bridgerton had hoped not to end the night with unsaid feelings between himself and Y/n. He had hidden his feelings for too long and wanted to tell her. He’ll never get the courage to do it again, if not tonight. Benedict and Y/n found the secret hideout they used to escape as children. They could disappear for days, and no one could ever find them.  I hear you are pursuing painting; you’ve always had an eye for art”, Y/n complimented with a dreamy sigh. Benedict grinned, leaning back on his hands and nodding. “Yes, Anthony will always be Viscount, and I know I am next in line, but I do not see this happening any time soon. So, I want to pursue my passion. And I have my muse to thank for that” His head turned to face Y/n, a blush creeping up on her cheeks. “If you didn’t know, that is you, my dear.” He kissed her shoulder, and Y/n felt her breathing grow uneven due to his affection. “Have you written any more poems since we last saw one another? You’ve always been talented with words,” Benedict murmured, staring into her eyes. Y/n parted her lips and blinked softly. “I wrote one the morning before the ball. It’s a love poem” Benedict’s grin returned as he leaned closer. “Tell me, I would love to hear it”, he whispered. Y/n turned her body slightly to face him better, taking a small breath. 

She found heaven in his eyes

And for the first time in a long time,

she could feel the stars within her shine

“My muse inspired me, too” She smiled softly. Benedict’s fingers gingerly grazed her cheek, then combed through her hair. His nose brushed hers delicately, their eyes closed. “Benedict, I wish to tell you something”, Y/n’s timid voice cut through the silence. Benedict hushed her gently. “I know, my love, I know” He cupped her cheek. “I feel the same way, and I have for so long”, he breathed, feeling the weight being lifted off his shoulders Y/n let out a sigh of relief, pressing her lips to Benedict’s; the Bridgerton smiled at her eagerness; pulling apart Benedict pressed his head to Y/n’s “Please don’t think me too forward, but I have ached for you for so long. Forgive me if this is improper,” Benedict whispered quickly before kissing Y/n again, this time laying her down, kissing along her jaw and down her neck. Y/n’s soft gasps and moans fill Benedict’s heart with happiness. He had longed to hear her sweet melodic sounds, and now he felt nothing but pride and love knowing she shared his affections. “Benedict”, Y/n panted, her hands gripping his coat. Benedict sat back and removed his coat quickly, removing Y/n’s gloves and throwing the garments aside. The lovers grin at one another as Benedict smirks, licking his lips, his body sliding down Y/n’s. 

Removing her dress at its laces, Y/n eagerly aided him, the cool air hitting her heated skin through her linen chemise. Benedict’s hands roamed her body, creating goosebumps all over her skin. “You are so beautiful, my dear. A dream, a vision. A masterpiece”, he breathed, spreading her legs and his palms pushing her chemise up to her hips. “Now let me explore what will be my finest artwork yet” He winked, his head nestled between her thighs, his lips and tongue swiping through her wet core, her arousal making his mind turn fuzzy with pleasure. Moaning into her pussy, lapping every inch of her wetness with feverishness. Bucking her hips, Y/n arched her back off the wood floor, moaning loudly, her fingers tangled into his chestnut hair, gripping the roots gently. Benedict’s hands slid underneath and cupped her ass, kneading the soft flesh. “Benedict, oh!” Benedict pulled her closer, his tongue lazily swiping through her wet folds before sucking on her clit. Her legs shook at the sensation whilst her other hand gripped her breast, cupping it gently. Feeling the heat bloom through her body, her lower abdomen felt aflame as her muscles tightened. “Benedict, I don’t know what’s happening”, she moaned. Benedict moaned, his actions increasing pace as Y/n’s sounds grew louder and more frequent. Her soft cry filled the small space as she came. Benedict did not let one drop of her arousal go to waste. The aftershocks of pleasure made Y/n’s body jolt lightly as Benedict crawled up her body, kissing her lips gently. A soft moan left Y/n’s mouth, her hands sliding down Benedict’s body and down to his pants, trying to remove them. 

Benedict chuckled, pulling away. “My dove is very eager, isn’t she?” He teased with a glint in his eyes as he removed his pants Y/n began to remove her chemise, but Benedict stopped her. “Next time, my darling, for now, I just want to feel you. Be one with you. We can see each other fully on our wedding night, that is if you want to marry me, Y/n?” Benedict asked her; hopefully, Y/n beamed with happiness, tears pricking her eyes, nodding quickly. “Yes, Benedict, I would love nothing more” She answered. Benedict smiled, his lips ghosting over hers as he slowly slid inside her, both moaning Y/n’s eyes closed tightly at the intrusion. Benedict kissed her cheek and raked his fingers through her hair. “It will hurt for a few moments, but I do promise it will feel better”, he whispered Y/n nodded as she mumbled, “Please, Benedict”, she pleaded. Benedict listened to her plea and began moving his hips, setting a sensual pace so as not to hurt Y/n too much. Her moans rang through his ears; he tucked his face in her neck, panting heavily. Her tight walls wrapped around his cock Y/n looped her arms underneath Benedict’s armpits and over his shoulders, pulling him closer. 

Y/n shivered at the affectionate feeling radiating off Benedict; she knew he had had lovers before; she was not naive to that fact. Benedict didn’t love the other women. Sure, he had held affection, but his heart was reserved for Y/n. His lovers always knew he didn’t feel anything for them, but they were happy to provide a service; they knew his heart wasn’t theirs to keep. And Y/n, well, she couldn’t be with a man unless she wanted her reputation and name disgraced. But not Benedict Bridgerton; he wanted her, he craved her, and he ached for her. Wholeheartedly, like a flower that pleads for water, the way the tree needs oxygen to breathe. His heart beats and belongs to her, as does his soul. “Benedict, my love, I feel-” Y/n breathed a sharp gasp leaving her mouth as she came around Benedict’s cock. Benedict’s thrusts became irregular as he panted, “My dove, where should I finish?” He looked into her eyes Y/n wrapped her leg around his torso, smiling. “Inside, Ben, please”, she begged Benedict, who nodded in response; before reaching his release, he groaned, kissing Y/n passionately, his cum coating her walls, both sighing in pleasure, their heads pressed together. “You’ve made me a very happy man, my darling”, Benedict whispered, his lips brushing Y/n’s, both laughing together. “And you’ve made me a very happy woman, lord bridgerton”, she whispered in reply; a distant rumble of thunder made the lovers peer outside. Benedict smiled, looking down at his fiancee. “Perhaps we should retire to a room; I wouldn’t want to be stuck in a thunderstorm” He grinned.

Arriving at the Bridgerton home, Benedict slowly opened the doors, pulling Y/n inside and closing them gently. He picked her up and carried her up to his bedroom, both giggling quietly and putting a finger to their lips, trying to quiet the other. As Benedict opened his bedroom door, they heard a voice behind them.

“I understand now why you are so late returning home, brother, Y/n; it’s lovely to see you again so soon. By the looks of it, I am assuming there is to be wedding bells soon?” Anthony leant on his door frame, Y/n and Benedict faced Anthony with a grins “Yes brother, no if you don’t mind I plan to enjoy my fiancee a little more in private before I have to share her with you all” Benedict ushered Y/n inside Y/n gasped softly waving to Anthony “Good night Anthony” Benedict clicked his fingers tapping her ass Anthony smirked calling to Benedict before he went into his room. 

The second Bridgerton son edged out his head. “Yes?” he said, slightly annoyed. Anthony pointed his finger. “Don’t be too loud,” Benedict gave a cheeky grin, shaking his head.

“I can’t promise anything,” he replied before closing his door.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader smut #bridgerton #luke thompson #smut #request #oneshots #missjadesfics #my fic

[madhattervanessa]

Kinktober 2022 - #8

Kinks: Body Worship, Mirror Sex, Nipple Play

Words: 967

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f!Reader

Not gonna lie, I blushed when I wrote this and I kind of love it? Kinktober has been a little rough for me so far but this one- I like this one, you guys

I also couldn’t decide on a gif so it might change later

Kinktober Masterlist

“You look gorgeous.”

You bat your lashes at Benedict in the mirror, still perched on the chaise as he continues drawing.

“You keep saying that but if your gestures do not match up how shall I know you are being truthful, Bridgerton?”

You look over your shoulder towards him this time and he smiles, his eyes never leaving you as he puts down his graphite.

“Is there something you want to say, my love? Something you require to believe me?”

You roll your lip between your teeth and turn back towards the mirror.

There’s that quirk of his eyebrow and he sets down his sketchbook again. You sigh and tug the thin sheet covering you a bit higher again to cover your shoulder.

“I am growing quite cold, I admit.”

He sets the book down and you hold your breath in anticipation when he slowly makes his way over to you.

“My apologies, love.”

He lets his hands trace over your shoulders and you sigh. He takes a seat on the chaise and you instinctively lean back towards him, bathing in his warmth as he caresses your skin.

You close your eyes and relish in his touch. The sheet covering you slowly slides down your skin as he explores your sternum and stomach. He presses a lingering kiss to your temple and afterwards the skin behind your ear. One of his hands slides back up over your waist to your chest and you gasp softly as his fingertip brushes your nipple. His other hand slides over the length of your thigh before drawing back upwards.

You open your eyes and catch him staring at your naked body, a small smile on his lips as he continues his soft exploration of your skin. When he notices you looking, he meets your gaze head on. You watch his hand return to your breast, gently squeezing as he watches you. Your lips part around a sigh that quickly evolves into a moan as he plays with your nipple again. You let your head fall back against his shoulder and are met with a kiss pressed to your cheek before you turn to capture his lips. He hums appreciatively and his fingers continue their teasing, gently rubbing against your sensitive skin until your nipples fully pebble and he can squeeze them carefully.

You moan into his mouth as his hand delves between your thighs, his knuckle grazing over your center, his skin growing wet with your slick.

He groans when you move your hips back against his, the prominent bulge of him pressing into your thighs as he spreads you open with his hand until he can push a finger into your heat.

“So beautiful, love. Can I-”

“Yes”, you sigh and draw him into another kiss. He could do whatever he wanted with you at this point, your skin feeling much warmer and your mind already dizzy with want as he keeps toying with you.

The hand previously buried between your legs is carefully drawn away, smearing a line of your slick over your body as he reverently touches your curves. Then, his hands leave you completely and you are about to complain when you look at him in the mirror again, the way he quickly discards his shirt and pants before joining you again.

You gasp when he hooks one of your legs over his before crudely spitting on his hand, to stroke himself. You watch, starstruck, as he pushes into your heat his arm wound around your waist as you both moan in unison.

But instead of canting your hips into yours, his hand returns to your breast and you gasp, your eyes following his movement as his second hand joins the first. You see your own cheeks flush even more as he carefully rolls his hips into you. After pressing another kiss to your neck, he leans up to your ear, watching you as he skillfully takes you apart, the traces of graphite on your skin only highlighting your beauty to him.

It’s an agonizingly slow pace and you feel pleasure dripping down your throat like honey. You press a desperate, slick kiss to his jaw and he reaches one hand up to your neck to keep you there before leaning down to kiss you again.

“That’s it, just like that, love. You look so exquisite like this”, he murmurs against your lips before kissing you again. You whimper and clench your thighs together, eliciting a sharp groan from him. The touch on your nipples turns harsher and you part from him to cry out, the sensations crashing over you suddenly as you arch against him, overtaken by pleasure.

Benedict grits out a curse and you distantly feel him pull out before spilling on to your thighs.

You’re both panting heavily and you can’t resist another look towards the mirror- Benedict’s strong jaw flexes as he frowns before pushing his forehead to rest on your shoulder as he struggles with his breath. 

You raise a hand and gently card your fingers through his unruly hair, smiling when you receive a soft moan and another kiss pressed against your shoulder.

“Do you believe me now?”, he slurs and you giggle as he reemerges from your shoulder with a satisfied smile on his lips before he kisses your neck.

“I think I might require more convincing, Benedict-” you barely manage to finish your sentence before two strong arms wrap around you and crush you against his chest. You squeal and Benedict grunts as he manages to get you off of the chaise and into his arms, the half finished drawing in his sketchbook long forgotten as he carries you off towards the bedroom with kisses and promises to convince you the whole afternoon if that’s what it would take.

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #kinktober2022 #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x f!Reader