#Bridgerton shade of blue

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Twelve - Beautiful day for a wedding

♡♡♡

The invitation arrived in your mail the very next day. You looked down at the writing of Violet Bridgerton on the letter. Daphne and Simon were to be married the very next day.

Your mother ushered you to the Modiste for a dress. You didn't have time for a new one, so she altered one you owned already. You bought a couple of new accessories and headed home.

You did not get to see the Bridgertons at all.

When you arrived at the church with your mother, you found yourself almost shocked at how few people were present, but you also supposed this was best.

On the duke's side were Lady Danbury and Will and his wife. On Daphne's was her family and you.

Benedict looked up just as you entered and smiled at you. He sat with Colin on a pew behind his mother. You smiled back and found your seat with Hyacinth and Gregory. Hyacinth made Gregory swap seats with her ao she could side beside you.

"Isn't this exciting?" She asks softly.

"Very," you smile.

"Daphne will look so beautiful in her dress," Hyacinth smiles.

"I'm certain of it."

You glance up to see Benedict still looking at you. When your eyes meet his, he turns away to talk to Colin again. You're confused by this strange little exchange, but don't dwell on it.

Violet spots you and waves at you with a smile. You return both gestures, and she turns back to Lady Danbury.

The duke stands quietly at the altar, awaiting his bride. As you look at him, you wonder what he must be thinking. From what you understand, this wasn't exactly ideal, but somehow you know, deep down in his heart, he loves Daphne.

He just needs to admit to himself.

His display to the queen, going by what Violet had said, was the most romantic declaration of love there could have ever been. You knew it had to have been true to some extent.

The sound of the door opening has everyone turning to look. You all rise when you see Anthony and the bride enter. You feel yourself gasp softly as you look at her.

Flawless.

Daphne looked beautiful. She was exactly what a bride should be on her special day. Anthony led her down the aisle. As she passed you, she gave you a small smile. She looked like she was putting on a brave face.

You smiled back and watched her pass.

Simon turns to look at his soon-to-wife. Even he couldn't deny how beautiful she is, surely.

Violet was trying so hard not to cry.

All of Daphne's family looked at her so proudly. This was the bottom she had been waiting for. The moment she would become a wife to the man she loved.

Though she had expected love to be true and pure like her parents had, for she knew the truth behind this wedding.

She practically forced Simon into it.

Anthony smiles at his sister and hands her over to Simon Bassett. The two stand beside each other while Anthony joins his mother at her pew.

You all sit.

The ceremony begins.

Hyacinth holds your hand as you watch the couple. You wonder what both of them are thinking.

They face each other. Simon holds out his hand. Daphne places her in it. He removes her long silk glove with ease. Her hand is now bare to him. He places the ring on her finger. Daphne remembers to breathe.

"I now pronounce you man and wife."

They're married.

♡♡♡

The ball after is full of life and cheer. Upbeat music plays on the violins. Though the wedding was an intimate affair, the ball was for all the ton.

Hyacinth and Gregory chase each other through the party while Daphne speaks to some of the guests.

Penelope tries to help Marina find someone other than Colin Bridgerton to marry. After all, Penelope had been in love with Colin for quite some time, though he was unlikely to view her the same way.

You laugh at something Anthony tells you on the other side of the room. Benedict comes over and looks between the two of you. "Is my brother that funny?"

"Quite, actually." You chuckle.

"At least one of us has charisma," Anthony says sipping his drink.

You laugh in the most unladylike manner and try to cover your mouth. Benedict looks at you in shock and in awe. Anthony smiles and shake his head.

"I never knew you could make such a sound," Benedict teases.

"Neither did I until now." You manage to control your laughter, ignoring anyone looking your way.

"A fascinating woman," he grins.

"I'm full of surprises. Even to myself," you smile.

Benedict looks at you curiously.

"Excuse me," Anthony says, nodding at you both and then taking his leave to catch up with someone.

You turn to Benedict only to catch him staring at someone.

"Benedict?"

"Excuse me..." He walks off but is soon cornered by the man he had seen. You sigh and decide to take a stroll of the room instead.

"A most enjoyable party," Henry Granville says to him.

"Indeed."

"Um, Bridgerton... Um... The other night..."

"What happened the other night?" Benedict asks, pretending he did not know. "I do not believe anything happened at all."

Henry chuckles softly. "Very well." A woman joins them, and Granville smiles. "Ah, dearest... I believe you know Mr. Bridgerton."

Benedict stares at the woman, recognising her from the other night. The pretty woman he enjoyed himself with.

"My wife, Mrs Lucy Granville."

Benedict chokes on his wine.

"It is a pleasure, Mr. Bridgerton." She smiles at him.

He just sips his wine and nods. "Mm."

You catch sight of Daphne staring at her husband, who stands across the room. You find this strange because you were made to believe that newly we'd couples rarely parted from each other on their wedding day. Yet, they were standing so far apart.

You were about to approach Daphne, but Anthony came up beside her. You decide to leave them both alone for now.

The conversation seems short, however, as you catch sight of Daphne fleeing the room moments later.

Violet goes after.

Wedding jitters, perhaps? Not that you would know. Would you ever know?

You find that you have circled the room completely and sigh. Benedict finds his way through the crowd and looks at you. "I apologise for that."

"Something urgent?"

"Well, not exactly. Just saw a face I knew."

"Wonderful. Where you know many faces, I know very few."

Benedict frowns. "Is something the matter?"

"Other than your family and Lady Danbury, I don't really know anyone else. Penelope seems lovely enough, but I do not know her all too well."

Benedict remains confused by you.

"Did something happen?" He asks.

"I have been all but abandoned."

"Nonsense."

You sigh. "Forgive me, I'm just tired. Weddings seem to go on for a while, don't they?"

"Can't say I've been to many."

"Do you think I'll get to experience this one day?" You ask, looking around. "Perhaps not as grand as this, but... you know."

Benedict now looks at you with slight surprise. "Of course, if that is what you want."

"I do want it." You confess quietly. "I'd like to be married one day. Not necessarily to a duke," you chuckle.

Benedict laughs, too.

"But I'd like to be a wife and a mother one day." You watch Hyacinth chase her brother around the guests.

Benedict keeps his gaze on you as he says, "one day it shall be yours."

You smile, keeping your eyes on the youngest two of the Bridgerton family.

Benedict does not drop his gaze from you.

♡♡♡

Violet insists you come them to bid Daphne goodbye as she leaves for her new home. You can only wonder how strange it must be for her to leave a place she calls home.

You stand at the back of the crowd as Daphne says goodbye to her siblings. She even hugs Eloise who looks a little reluctant for her sister to go.

Daphne then turns to you and pulls you into a hug. "Thank you," she whispers.

"What for?"

"Being there." She pulls away to look at you, placing her hands in yours softly.

You smile. "Any time. Write, won't you?"

"Of course. Regularly."

You both smile at each other, and Daphne turns around to climb into the carriage. Simon opens the door for her and climbs in after her. She looks out the window to look at her family and her, now, old home.

You wave along with the others, finding your arm looped with Anthony's as you watch the carriage disappear down the road. When it's gone from sight, Anthony escorts you back inside. Violet gushes about the entire day, and you smile as you go with her to fetch some tea.

With the guests gone, the family can relax. You had been invited to stay behind and keep them company for a while longer, and you agreed.

You sit with Violet and the family as tea is called. Anthony stays a while but then excuses himself. Violet makes a comment about him being unable to leave business even for one day.

A cup of tea is placed on the table beside you. You look up to see Benedict standing beside you with a smile.

You accept the cup and sip it. It's been made the way you like it. Benedict remembered something so mundane about you? Or was it perhaps just chance. You have taken tea with his mother before.

"My daughter, a duchess," Violet sighs happily.

"You must be very proud," you say, smiling.

"Immensly." She sips her tea.

"Daphne looked beautiful," Hyacinth says, smiling at you both from where she sits with Gregory.

"Yes," Violet smiles proudly.

You sip your tea and listen to small babble lf conversation about Daphne and where she will be living now, and what a duchess does. Hyacinth was full of questions.

Eloise slumped down in the seat beside you with a sigh.

"You alright?" You ask. She had a book held tightly to her chest.

"Just glad it's all over." She sighs again.

"Did you not enjoy seeing your sister marry?"

"It's not that. I'm very happy for Daphne and shall miss her tremendously. I'm just tired of all the fuss."

"Will it not be your turn next?" You ask.

"Please don't remind me," she screws her eyes shut and grimaces at the thought.

You chuckle softly and pat her arm gently. "You may change your mind."

"I cannot think of anything worse."

You say no more on the matter. After an hour passes, you take your leave. Your mother would be waiting at home for you. Violet calls for a carriage for you, one of their own. Benedict insists on seeing you out.

You walks down the front steps with him and approaches the carriage. The footman opens the door for you.

"Until next we meet," Benedict smiles at you.

You're about to enter the carriage when you stop and turn to him. "Where do you go at night?" You ask.

Benedict seems to freeze at your question. "Pardon?"

"At night, where do you go?"

His mouth hangs open as he tries to think about how to answer, but you keep talking before he can utter a single word.

"The other night when the duke and Lady Danbury came for dinner, you were not present. I asked Anthony about your whereabouts, but he confessed to not knowing. Not that I expect you all to know each others business all the time, but apparently, you have spent a couple nights away from home now. I am curious. Where do you go?"

Benedict really wasn't sure how to answer. Qould you think poorly of him if he told you the truth.

"Well I--"

"No, never mind. Do not tell me. It was rude of me to ask. I was just curious. Curiosity can be dangerous." You climb up into the carriage.

There's a moment of silence before the footman closes the door. Within seconds the carriage takes off towards your home.

Benedict is left standing there wishing he had said something, anything, to keep you longer.

He watches the carriage leave.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @luckily123345 - @charmainemaclendon

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

[benedictbridgertonss]

Benedict Bridgerton fanfic reccomendations!

Felt like making a post on some of the Benedict Bridgerton fics/imagines i have read recently and recommend reading. I will be adding more fic recs as i go but here are a few that i really enjoy! (If there are any fics benedict Bridgerton related that you want me to read and add to this list please do not hesitate to comment on this post or message me! ╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗ Fics ╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝ Bridgeton shade of Blue - @dragon-kazansky Garden of Secrets - @dreamwritesimagines Unwritten - @peterpparkrr A Painter's Muse - @parkerslatte Sketches of the Heart - @osterfield-holland-andcompany Love in Bloom - @bosbas When the World is free - @fayes-fics Over the Garden Wall - @homeofthepeculiar ╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

More to be added soon...

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton shade of blue #female reader #colin bridgerton #polin #bridgerton x you

[bunnykaye]

The lovely and AMAZINGLY TALENTED @thisis-artyanna created this ASSUREDLY, FERVENTLY, LOUDLY Polin moment for me for the @polinsxcare4gaza fundraiser!!! 😍🥰

I provided her the prompt of the scene at the end of Romancing Mr. Bridgerton right before Colin announces Pen as Lady Whistledown... but with a few tweaks 😉 (if you know what it is, lmk heehee)

Anna, thank you so much for making the MOST AMAZING Polin fanart with my prompt. I literally teared up when I first saw it!!! 🥹😭

This artwork was commissioned for the Polins x Care For Gaza fundraiser event. Not for commercial use.

#bridgerton #bridgerton art #bridgertonart #polin #polinart #colin x penelope #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #thisis artyanna #polins x care for gaza #care for gaza #LOOK AT THEM I AM SOBBING #ANNA USED THE SAME SHADE OF BLUE AS THAT LEAKED VID ON SET AND I FREAKED OUT #LOOK AT HER LOOKING AT HIM #LOOK AT HIM LOOKING AT HER #I AM NOT OK

[sukibenders]

My brain whenever I see Kate Sharma in purple or blue (bonus points if together):

#bridgerton #kate sharma #is this bc purple & blue & co are my go to colors? maybe so but that is not a crime! #like miss girl looked good in any color for sure but purple (and blue) especially! #no matter the shade! #i may have beef with bridgerton tv show in some regards but where they will never fail me is the fashion department they went in #can't say the same for some other shows (*glances at hotd*) #i could spend hours staring and reblogging bridgerton clothing gifs if i could

[rubysunnday]

take my hand

summary: as much as y/n appreciates anthony's matchmaking efforts, it's hard to accept them when he's the only man she wants. luckily for her, a fall in the lake allows her to voice her feelings in more ways than one

a/n: 4.4k of pure angst/fluff and, yes, smut

Promenading was probably one of the most pointless endeavours the ton insisted on participating in. Miss Y/N Moore loved going on walks around the city. But when she was surrounded by the ton and their watching eyes and gossiping mouths, it was hard to enjoy anything.

"Stop glowering," her mother hissed, elbowing her in the side. "Smile."

Y/N sighed. But she raised her chin and smiled politely as they walked past the Featherington family.

There was only one reason why her mother had forced her out of the house: the Earl of Newburgh.

He'd been courting Y/N since the second week of the season. They'd danced together at almost every ball, gone to museum visits together and he'd had dinner at her house. Twice.

They were practically engaged in the eyes of the ton.

Yet Y/N wasn't happy. She liked the earl, there was nothing wrong with him. He was a lovely man. But there was no spark between them. Their relationship just felt like a good friendship.

She had never confessed it to her mother, however. If she did, Y/N was certain her mother would swoon.

"I do not see the earl anywhere," her mother muttered, rising up on to her tiptoes.

Y/N tugged on her arm and forced her back down. "He might not be here yet, mama."

"He did invite you to promenade with him, yes?"

"Yes -"

"Then why is he not here?"

Y/N kept quiet. Sometimes, when her mother got annoyed, she talked to herself, grumbling about anything and everything. It was easier to let her talk aloud and not acknowledge anything - otherwise they'd end up in a fight and Y/N knew how they always ended.

As her mother kept rattling on, Y/N gazed across the crowd gathered down by the lake. There were awnings pitched up along the edge of the clearing, providing shade to the families sitting under them. It was a beautiful day and the lake had numerous boats upon it, gently gliding over the water.

Y/N's roving gaze moved past and then came back to an awning nearest the lake. It, and the carriage, were both light blue. The carriage door boasted the Bridgerton family crest and Y/N's heart stuttered.

It was as if he knew she was looking.

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton looked up. He was sat on a blanket, his youngest sister Hyacinth sat by him, tucked into his side. They were making a daisy chain together. It snaked down Anthony's legs, growing longer as Hyacinth added to it.

It was as if the world stopped for a moment, blurring everything out except Anthony.

"Y/N, darling!"

Y/N jumped slightly. She turned and saw the Earl of Newburgh walking towards her, her mother practically hanging off his arm.

"I found him!"

Y/N tried not to cringe. She kept her composure and smiled at the earl, curtseying as he approached. "My Lord."

"Would you care to promenade with me, Miss Moore?" He asked, smiling at her as he offered her his arm.

"I would love to," she replied, threading her arm through his.

Her mother giggled. Giggled. Y/N tried not to sigh but her composure must've slipped as the Earl patted her hand sympathetically.

They walked down the grass, past the families and toward the water. Y/N could feel guilt eating at her every time she glanced at the earl. She didn't want to inconvience him or hurt his feelings. But she also didn't want to trap him in a marriage that was one sided.

"Miss Moore -"

"My lord -"

They both stopped abruptly, hearing the other speak. The earl laughed, shaking his head.

"Please, go first, Miss Moore."

Y/N sighed. "My lord, I apologise but I... I would rather we remain friends than take this any further. I value you and our friendship," she added quickly, "but I just do not feel any..."

"Spark?"

Y/N smiled and nodded. "I know I am running out of time," she said quietly. "And any other woman would accept your suit and gladly become a countess. But I yearn for a love match, as foolish as that might seem. I want what so many of the ton have and I am not quite ready to give up on that idea yet."

"I do not think you should either," the earl replied. He took her hand in his. "We all deserve a chance at true love, Miss Moore. I can only hope you find it."

"As do I, my lord." She curtseyed. "I hope to see you around."

It was as if her mother knew what had just happened. As the earl walked away, Y/N turned, glancing over at her. She could see the fury on her face even from this far away. Y/N swallowed as she began to walk back to her mother, bracing herself for the fallout.

"Miss Moore!"

She stilled. The voice as achingly familiar. She could smell him and it filled her with a weird warmth.

Y/N turned. Anthony Bridgerton was standing there, hands clasped behind his back, wearing a dark blue jacket.

"Lord Bridgerton," Y/N said, curtseying.

Anthony smiled. "I was Anthony last week," he said, moving closer.

"My mother is watching," Y/N replied softly. She risked a glance over her shoulder. "I just ended things with the Earl of Newburgh."

"Why?"

Y/N turned back to face him. She shrugged. "There was no spark."

Anthony nodded once. He glanced over her shoulder. "Well, would you like to come out onto the lake with me?" He asked, extending his hand out. "To escape your mother for a moment?"

Y/N looked at his bare hand. Slowly, she placed her own bare hand in his, letting him guide her hand to the crook of his elbow. She could feel the warmth of his body even through the dark blue wool of his jacket.

They began to walk towards the dock set up on the edge of the lake. The sun emerged from behind the clouds, sparkling off the water for a moment before disappearing again.

Anthony held her hand as she stepped into the boat. He kept her steady as it rocked, not letting go until she did. Y/N sat down on the chair built into the boat. Anthony sat down opposite her, grabbing the oars.

One of the workers untied them from the dock and gave them a gentle push out onto the lake. Anthony began to row, the oars splashing in and out of the water. Y/N sighed, relaxing back against the cushions, grateful to have escaped her mother's wrath for a moment.

Anthony was quiet for a while. He rowed them away from the dock, weaving through the other boats on the lake.

"What made you deny the earl?" Anthony asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

Y/N exhaled softly, letting her hand trail through the water. "There was no spark," she replied. "I felt nothing but friendship towards him."

"What is it you look for?"

"A love match," Y/N replied, taking her hand out the water and shaking the droplets off. "Despite how foolish it may seem, I yearn for a love match. One that matches the stories I read when I was younger. Whilst I know it will probably never happen, younger me isn't quite ready to give up on the idea yet."

"I do not think it foolish," Anthony said softly. He slowed the oars, holding them loosely in his hands. "Nor do I think you should give up on it."

Y/N found his gaze. The intensity of it almost took her breath away.

"I must admit, however, that I do not think the earl would have made a good match."

His words snatched her out of her dream. Y/N stared at him, affronted.

"Whatever does that mean?" She asked.

"Well, he lives in Scotland -"

"Do you have some personal vendetta against Scotland?"

"Other than the bagpies and the tartan and the constant rain?"

"Anthony, have you ever been to Scotland in your life?"

"Colin has."

Y/N sighed. "Your brother does not count." She paused. "Is Scotland the only reason?"

"Oh, I have a whole list."

"Oh for goodness sake."

Y/N knew Anthony had a soft spot for her. They'd been friends since she'd come out two years previously. He'd been a desired match despite his whining about not wanting a wife. Her mother had forced them to dance together numerous times and soon a friendship had formed.

Even if that friendship sometimes comprised of a very judgy viscount who seemed to make who Y/N was courting his business.

"Anthony, when will you realise that you cannot control who I court?" Y/N asked softly.

Anthony began rowing them back to the dock. "I do not claim to try to."

"But you do."

"If you want me to stop, you need only ask."

"Anthony, that's not what..." Y/N sighed heavily. "I do not get a lot of choice in this world, please stop trying to control the one thing I do get to choose."

"I was not aware I was," Anthony replied, brow furrowing.

Y/N didn't want to say it. But she knew she had to.

"Well, you are," she replied gently. "I appreciate the concern but... I do not have long left to find my true love. And you, Viscount Bridgerton, are not helping things."

She knew it was a low blow. All Anthony wanted to do was protect her. But he kept scaring off countless suitors - sometimes before Y/N could even speak to them. It was a miracle the earl had managed to bypass Anthony at all.

The boat hit the dock. Y/N looked at Anthony and could see the muscles in his jaw clenching. He cleared his throat and stood up, pulling his jacket down.

Anthony climbed out the boat and crouched down, tying the rope back to the dock. He said nothing. Y/N hated the silence. She'd upset him, she knew that.

But she could not allow him to keep matchmaking for her when the only one she wanted was him. It hurt to see him try to marry her off to another man. All she wanted to do was be with him.

She'd denied it for months. The feelings that had begun to blossom inside her. They had become uncontrollable now, taking over her entire being whenever she saw him.

She was in love with Anthony Bridgerton.

The man who was against love, against marriage, against happy ever afters. He had made his intentions clear and Y/N knew he was not going to back down on them for her.

Her heart belonged to him and he didn't even know it.

Anthony held out his hand to her. "Miss Moore."

"Lord Bridgerton." She placed her hand in his.

Y/N stepped out of the boat and onto the dock. As she did so, she glanced down at their hands, fingers still holding on to one another.

Neither one of them wanted to let go. Even as the seconds ticked by. Anthony ran his thumb along her knuckles, hovering over the ring she wore on her middle finger.

Then, as if struck by lighting, they pulled apart. Y/N and Anthony both took a step back together, not realising another couple were directly behind them.

There was a yelp of surprise. It was a tangle of limbs and ropes and suddenly, Y/N found herself hitting the water. For a moment, she was blinded, but then she found her way upright and surfaced.

She turned her head, catching the splash as Anthony awkwardly surfaced from the depths of the lake, arms wheeling. The other man they'd knocked into the water was glowering at them but Y/N didn't care.

In fact, she was finding the entire situation highly amusing.

A crowd had gathered at the edge of the dock, her mother among them. Anthony was angrily shedding his jacket and cravat, slinging them into the water.

Y/N made the mistake of looking over.

His white shirt was near see through thanks to the water. It clung to his torso, highlighting the muscles and giving her a near clear view of everything.

Her cheeks began to burn and Y/N turned away quickly.

"Anthony, are you okay?"

Y/N looked up at the dock. Daphne Bridgerton, Anthony's sister, was stood at the edge, looking down at them, his brother Benedict next to them.

Benedict looked as amused as Y/N did at the whole situation.

"No," he grunted. "This idiot decided to tie his boat where there was no space!"

"You walked into me, my lord!"

Y/N rolled her eyes as the two man began to bicker. She half swam, half waded away back to the dock. The crowd moved back as she put her hands on the edge and pushed herself up onto it, gratefully accepting Benedict's help as he pulled her back onto dry land.

She knew she looked a mess. Her dress was covered in grime from the lake and there was a stray twig stuck in her hair. Yet she didn't seem to care.

Y/N shook her head, pulling the twig out. She looked up as Benedict straightened, giving her a smile. He held out his hand and pulled her to her feet

Y/N watched as Benedict crouched back down and offered a hand to his brother. Anthony slapped it aside, glowering at Benedict as he laughed at his brother's misfortune.

Anthony clambered back up onto the dock and snatched a towel from one of the workers hovering hesitantly nearby. He marched off, giving Y/N a tilt of the head as he passed by.

Y/N watched him leave. A shiver danced through her body and she wrapped her arms around herself. A warm jacket landed around her shoulders.

"So you have a reason to come by," Benedict whispered in her ear as he stepped back.

Y/N smiled up at him, pulling the jacket tight around her.

She knocked on the front door of Bridgerton house, Benedict's freshly laundered jacket in her hand. It wasn't long before the butler opened the door and ushered her inside, taking her calling card.

Y/N waited in the foyer for a moment, admiring the paintings and the walls. Then, the butler appeared again and guided her up the stairs to the drawing room.

"Y/N!"

She'd barely taken one step inside the room before Hyacinth came barreling at her, wrapping her arms around her waist.

"Hyacinth," Violet admonished, hurrying over. "Please do not ambush Miss Moore."

Hyacinth beamed up at Y/N before skipping away, back to her marbles.

"Miss Moore - Y/N," Violet corrected, seeing Y/N open her mouth to do so, "what do we owe the pleasure?"

Y/N held up the jacket. "I believe this is your son's." She paused. "The artistic one."

Violet chuckled, taking the jacket from Y/N. "Thank you," she replied. "I do apologise for what -"

"Oh, it was not anyone's fault," Y/N said, shrugging. "A funny accident was all it was."

Violet sighed. "I wish Anthony saw it that way. He is still rather angry at being pushed into the lake."

Y/N knew that, whilst he probably was angry at that, it wasn't the only thing. Yet, she did not say so aloud.

"I apologise for the lack of people here," Violet continued. "All of them are out. Bar Anthony, he's in his office."

"Not to worry, I only came to drop the jacket off," Y/N replied. She paused, hesitating to ask her next question.

"What is it, Y/N?" Violet asked, her mother's instinct isntantly reading the heistation on Y/N's face.

"I may have said some things to your son that upset him," she admitted softly. "I should not have done so but..." She sighed. "I cannot explain it myself, to be honest."

Violet nodded, eyes full of understanding. "You do not need to. Your relationship with Anthony is a special one. I do hope that this does not ruin it." Violet smiled. "I always think it best to be honest with someone, Y/N. Even if it's scary. It almost always helps things."

Y/N nodded. "Thank you."

As she turned to go, Violet called her name, halting her.

"His office is behind the stairs," Violet said.

Y/N smiled at the older woman. She turned and made her way down the stairs. As she got to the bottom, she turned to the right instead of heading for the front door.

It was easy to spot Anthony's office. The door was slightly ajar and she could see his jacket, abandoned on a chair by the fireplace.

Y/N knocked gently on the door.

"Just a moment, Hy," Anthony called.

Y/N stepped in, peering round the door, holding on to the edge. "Should I be flattered that you assumed I was Hyacinth?"

Anthony looked up sharply, his quill scratching along the parchment in one, thick, ink heavy line. "Miss Moore."

"I believe it was Y/N the other day," she replied, throwing his own words back at him, hoping to lighten the tension.

It didn't work.

"Why are you here?" Anthony asked, gripping his quill tightly.

"I came to return Benedict's jacket," she replied.

His reaction was obvious, despite how hard he tried to hide it. His shoulders slumped and his demeanour changed.

"Ah," Anthony replied, turning back to his papers. "Did you get lost?"

"I came to see you as well," Y/N replied. She was still hiding behind the door. "But only if you'll hear me out."

"I might."

"And if you stop being so rude."

At that, Anthony looked up again. He stood up, pushing back his chair. "What do you want, Y/N?" He asked, walking over to a cabinet and opening the doors.

"To apologise for what I said," Y/N replied, edging further into the room. "I was stressed amongst many other things and I took it out on you. Of course I value your opinion and I appreciate your assistance."

"You did not seem to the other day."

"Well, I was having conflicting feelings."

Anthony scoffed. Y/N watched him pour out a glass of whiskey and drink it in one.

Y/N sighed softly. She walked further into the room, pushing the door shut behind her. "The truth is, Anthony, that... as much as I appreciate your matchmaking skills and your assistance with this whole thing I..." Y/N trailed off.

She could still change her mind. She could still lie to him, claim innocence.

But she didn't want to.

Now was her chance to tell him. To let it all out. It would hurt. The denial would sting. But she would get over it. And then maybe, she could find another match.

"I cannot have the man I love trying to marry me off to other men when the only one I want is him."

Anthony's glass clinked against the bottle he was holding. He went very still, frozen mid-pour. Y/N let the confession settle, the silence grow. She moved closer to him, the heels of her shoes against the wooden floor the loudest sound she'd ever heard.

"I can’t get you out of my head," she admitted softly. "You haunt my dreams at night and in the day. I find myself searching for you where ever I go, yearning just to hear your voice, to feel your hand in mine… your lips against my skin.

"You torment my very being. Whenever I see you, whenever I hear you there’s a spark inside me that demands to be let out. A spark that doesn’t exist with anyone but you, Anthony."

Anthony set the bottle down and turned to face her. Y/N didn't know how she expected him to react but the tears brimming in his eyes was not high on the list.

"I know that this might not be what you wish to happen," she added quickly, stepping even closer, "and if that is the case, I will walk away right now and forget this ever happened." She paused, breathing deeply. "But I think there is something, deep down inside, that yearns for this too."

That god awful silence fell again. The clock chimed from the mantle place, indicating that it was inching close to six o'clock. Anthony stared at her. Y/N stared at him. She let her fingers grip her skirt tightly.

"I will admit," Anthony said softly, his voice hoarse, "that I have felt something too. For a long time I have denied it." He swallowed. "I loved my father deeply and his loss aches even today. I fear to love anyone else as much or to allow anyone to love me as much because I do not wish to inflict that ache on anyone else.

"But what I have discovered since meeting you, Y/N Moore, is that the ache means that the love was so great, it cannot be put into words. We know what happens in the end, yet we love anyway. It has taken me a long time to accept that. To accept that falling in love will only mean more pain, more heart ache. But for you, I am willing to accept that. For you, I am willing to love again."

Y/N couldn't breathe. At some point during Anthony's confession, her breath had been stolen away by his words.

Here they were, baring their open and broken souls to one another. It shouldn't have felt this good. It shouldn't have brought her the relief it was.

Anthony stepped closer. Y/N followed his gaze, never breaking away. He lowered his lips to hers. It was slow and delicate yet the desire was there, the need for more was there. He pressed hard, pushing her lips apart slightly, wanting even more.

Then, they broke apart. Anthony took a step back. Y/N looked at him, breathing heavily. Anthony looked at her, his dark eyes burning into her soul.

There was a moment of stillness. A moment of calm.

Then Anthony surged forward, as did Y/N. They collide. His hands wrapped around her waist as he captured her lips again. They were desperate to devour one another, to know each others bodies, to feel one another after denying their feelings for so long.

Anthony lifted Y/N up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, never once breaking their kiss. He walked back and sat her on the desk, knocking over trinkets and piles of papers. His hands were frantic, desperately undoing the hooks at the back of her dress as she undid his waistcoat.

Desire coursed through them. The need to hold one another overwhelming them both. Y/N's dress fell down from her shoulders and ended up on the floor, forgotten.

As Anthony stepped back, Y/N jumped off the desk and pulled Anthony forward by his cravat. She smiled, licking her swollen lips as she pushed him down until he was kneeling in front of her.

Anthony chuckled, his hands reaching up and pulling down her stockings from around her thighs. Her drawers followed next. Anthony's hands danced over her hips and upper thighs as he guided the material down.

Y/N's hands caressed his face and combed through his hair with her fingers as he undressed her and Anthony tried not to moan in delight. He paused as her hands came around his throat, undoing the cravat and then drifting down to his shirt.

Teasingly, Y/N pulled the edge up, letting her nail lightly drag across his skin. A tremor went through his body, desire flaring between his legs. The shirt landed on the floor next to her dress.

Anthony paused, looking at her. “I will stop if you want me to,” he said softly.

"Please don’t.”

Anthony realised just how much he liked her begging.

Y/N lowered herself to her knees, looking Anthony in the eye. He recognised the look in her eyes and he slowly lowered himself down to the floor, the rug brushing his bare back.

She knelt over him, fingers dancing over his chest. Her hands moved down, brushing between his legs. He nearly came undone there and then. Y/N undid his trousers, sliding the fabric down his legs until they were both exposed.

Y/N lowered herself onto him, a sweetness growing between her legs as she did so. She yearned to reach down and relieve it. Instead, she straightened up, resting on top of Anthony. He tilted his head back, a groan burning in his throat. He let her warm to him, to his touch, and then he arched up slightly, encouraging her movements. Y/N moved with him, their limbs becoming one, entangling with the other.

Anthony reached the horizon of his desire, feeling it's release all over. Y/N rested a hand on his chest, breathing hard. She leant down, kissing his lips, the space behind his ear, his collarbone. She brushed her hand along the side of his face, taking in every mole, every detail.

Anthony took her face in his hands. He gently guided her up, until they were both kneeling again. Then, he pushed her backwards, letting her lower herself onto the floor. Y/N laid on the rug, looking up at Anthony, her eyes caught in his gaze. He knelt over her, his knees either side of her waist, his knee brushing her bare skin.

He smirked as slowly lowered himself downward, caressing every part of her body as he went. His hands ran over her covered breasts, hovering for a moment, before moving down to her stomach. He paused at her thighs and then, when he heard her whimper, went down further, to the sweet spot that yearned to be touched.

Y/N splayed her hands out against the rug as the sweetness between her thighs was eased by hands that knew exactly what to do and a tongue that knew just where to touch.

She didn't even hear the noises she made, so absorbed in the feeling of Anthony's fingers inside her. Her hips bucked up and he pushed them back to the floor, resting his other hand against her abdomen.

Needing something to grasp onto, Y/N reached for his hand. Anthony found it and gripped it tightly, riding with her as each surge of breath came in quick succession.

Y/N arched up, her head tilted back, exposing her throat, as she crested the wave of her release. Anthony finished off as she fell back against the rug, her skin glowing with sweat.

He laid down next to her, his hand coming to lie against her chest. He could feel her heart beating through the corset she still wore.

Neither one spoke - they didn’t need to. Y/N closed her eyes and turned her head, nestling into Anthony’s neck and breathing in deeply. His cologne was stronger there, evidently where he’d rolled it on that morning. Anthony’s thumb rubbed back and forth along her back.

In stark contrast from the hunger and desire that had gripped them moments earlier, they were both settled now. Anthony’s kiss was soft on her cheek, his hands gentle as he caressed her bare skin. Y/N found herself drawing circles on his bare back, following imaginary lines along the divot of his spine.

She sighed softly and relaxed further into his embrace, closing her eyes as she listened to Anthony’s heart beating in time with hers.

She awoke hours later. The candles had burnt down and the sky was dark outside the window. She was still in Anthony’s embrace, his hand lazily flung across her stomach, fingers on her thigh. She turned her head to look at him and he blinked at her sleepily, his hair mussed.

“I suspect I might have to marry you now,” Anthony whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I suspect you might, Lord Bridgerton” Y/N replied, smiling back. She brushed her hand through his hair. “Luckily for you, I’m all yours.”

“Lucky for me indeed,” Anthony murmured, pressing his lips to hers once more. Slowly. Deliberately.

For they had all the time in the world now.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagines #bridgerton imagines

[whispersoftheton]

This idea has been on my mind for a while… Anthony seeing you in the bridgerton blues for the first time, can either be smut or fluff :) thanks

Ahhhh I love this so much, thank you for sending it in! :)

Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: kissing, fluff, smut, p in v

Word Count: 1.2K

The family gathered around the room on another sweltering summer day. Hyacinth and Gregory bickered over yet another sworn tie in their endless chess matches while Eloise quietly read her book in the opposite corner. Anthony sat between his brothers, Benedict telling him of his endless tales from class among the unspoken soirees he discreetly attended from time to time and Colin of his many travels. Anthony found himself growing bored, awaiting your arrival. You were to accompany him and the rest of the Bridgertons to the races this afternoon, as it would be your first outing as a family since your marriage to the Viscount. And he could not bear to listen to another one of Benedict's tales for one more second; he needed to see you.

"Mother." Anthony stood hurriedly from the gold-trimmed sofa to approach Lady Bridgerton as she entered the room. "Where is she?"

"Now, calm down, Anthony; she is nearly ready." Lady Birdgerton assured him while straightening out his neckline to perfection. She knew Anthony's antics well enough by now to understand his growing impatience was only a product of his theatrics.

"I feel as though I have been waiting an eternity. Surely she must-" Anthony made his way past his mother and into the hallway, his words stammered as soon as his eyes landed on you. You'd been making your way to the main room when he appeared in your path, a smile gracing both your lips. There was no word in the English language to describe how beautiful you looked. The most impeccable dress draped over every curve in a more delicate shade of blue than he wore but complimented his outerwear perfectly. Warmth blossomed in Anthony’s chest at the sight of you in that color. His color. He never thought he'd see the day when the one he loved, the one his heart eternally yearned for, would wear the color that meant so much to him and his family. He would never tire of how easily you overpowered him whenever he was in your presence.

"Do I look alright?" You nervously patted your skirt, ensuring everything was as it should be. Hesitation apparent in your tone as you approached him.

"Alright?" Anthony's eyes widened as he took your hands in his. He couldn't believe you would use a modest word such as 'alright' to describe how exquisite you looked right now. "My love, you look…absolutely stunning. Beyond words, truly." Heat filled your face, and your stomach fluttered at his flattery. Anthony had a way of making you feel as though you two were the only person on the face of the earth, easily melting under his gaze. It was an exquisite feeling you wished to relish in forever. Anthony glanced around and took advantage of the privacy to steal a kiss. His lips were warm and soft against your own. They parted slightly, allowing you to move more passionately as your hunger for one another became apparent in mere seconds. It shouldn't be surprising, seeing as you and your husband could hardly keep your hands off each other since your wedding night. The moment grew heated with every swipe of his tongue, hands caressing the soft flesh of your waist and hips hidden beneath the restricting fabric of your dress.

"Mother!" Anthony reluctantly pulled away, panting, and shouted. "Go ahead without us. We will join you shortly, as promised." Without so much as a second thought or a response from anyone, he whisked you away toward a nearby closet in a closed-off hallway he was sure no one wandered by.

"Anthony, what are you doing? The races are starting soon." You protested before he cut you off with another chaste kiss and shut the door behind him.

"We will join them in a moment. I must have you right now." The passion flowed through his words, making you squeeze your thighs together in anticipation and a chuckle escape you. He pulled you close, continuing his ministrations. His lips scattered kisses along your neckline and down to your chest as your hands tangled in his hair. His hands worked tirelessly to remove as many barriers between your bodies as quickly as possible as he gently guided you to lean on the wall behind you. Your dress was bunched up toward you as Anthony hastily removed his trousers just to his upper thigh. You panted under him, his lips never leaving your skin, leaving a trail of marks and bruises as a reminder of his love for you.

"Seeing you in our family color," Anthony spoke between kisses. "You are so beautiful." He was rambling as he often did when he was this worked up. The way you looked, how your body responded to his every touch. Every beautiful sound he was able to pull from you, it drove him mad. He couldn't take it anymore; he had to have you now. Anthony abruptly lifted and pressed you against the wall, your fingers tugging at his hair and desperately nipping at his lower lip, pulling an animalistic groan from his chest.

"Anthony, please." You practically whimpered when you felt his cock prod at your entrance, clenching around nothing as the tip slid over your sensitive clit. He lined himself up and pressed his lips against yours to swallow any sounds you made as he gently pushed inside you. You moaned into each other in unison, and he waited, letting you settle as you nodded for him to move. Anthony began to plunge into you, easily slipping through your folds, feeling your warm cunt swallow him whole. He cupped your breast over the fabric of your dress, kneading it in his hands while breathing heavily as he bottomed out inside of you, holding you there for a moment, reveling in how impossibly soft and warm you felt around him as low whimpers escaped you.

A low grunt rumbled from his chest when he felt you fluttering around him. His hand outlined from the swell of your breasts all the way down beneath your hips, memorizing every curve, feeling the way your chest was rising and falling with every breath of pleasure that surged through you; even the way your hips instinctively moved to meet his own drove him insane. Anthony craved and wanted nothing more than to be close to you; even being inside you now, it was never close enough for him. He began to stroke your clit, already aching for attention. Your bodies rocked in sync with one another, desperate for relief. Anthony felt you whine quietly as your orgasm crashed into you. Waves of heat overwhelmed your body as you pulsed on his cock, pulling Anthony to spill himself inside of you.

Anthony pulled away from you after a moment of stolen kisses and delicate touches. He made sure you were settled on the ground and took the time to adjust himself. Moving quickly to assist you in fixing your dress and ensuring everything else was in order before opening the door to confirm no one was outside and stepping out of the closet. You may have missed the race's first leg, but with the knowing smirks and blissed-out looks on both your faces, it was well worth it.

Tag List: @bugnug @queenofmean14 (let me know if you would like to added here or dm me if you’d like to be removed)

I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton one shot #anthony bridgerton angst #bridgerton netflix #lady bridgerton #viscount bridgerton

[spideytingley]

my fic recs!

marvel

peter parker

identity crisis by @heliads

bucky barnes

time after time (on-going series) by @intrepidacious

heal me, baby by @intrepidacious

first date, last night by @intrepidacious

little lion man by @wkemeup

these ties that bind by sweetascanbee on ao3

steve rogers

no other shade of blue by @barnesafterglow

love bites (series) by starfleetstgmgr on ao3

invisible string (series) by gracehateseggnog on ao3

pietro maximoff

hole in the wall by @sebsbarnes

realign by @astxrwar soulmate au

percy jackson and the olympians

luke castellan

a place with you by @supercutszns

fighting chance by @supercutszns

rotten to the touch by @supercutszns

bleedin’ me dry by @atlabeth

i beg you (and you don’t understand) by @emiliehornby

daylight, part 2, part 3 by @tangledinlove

percy jackson

anti-curse by @kamaluhkhan

dc

dick grayson

the moon will sing (on-going series) by minnieears on ao3

jason todd

window pains by @sanguineterrain

reflections of you by dizarys on ao3

romantics by @yourlocalcringydaydreamer

suds and buds (yeah, sure) (series) by sbambs on ao3

baby steps (on-going series) by @lightwing-s

she hates me (series) by minnieears on ao3

damian wayne

flowers (series) by stargazer_lily_1996 on ao3. soulmate au

tim drake

late night park walks by @lightwing-s

sleepless nights by starkk on ao3. soulmate au

who we are (on-going series) by minnieears on ao3

the hunger games

finnick odair

our song and dance (on-going series) by @mrs-kmikaelson

one for the road by @libertyybellls

lover/fighter (on-going series) by aurabella on ao3 @bluemidnightmelody

cato

supernova (on-going series) by glossyybabie on ao3

it might kill me (on-going series) by frick6101719 on ao3

grishaverse

kaz brekker

bejeweled by @reve-writes

dense by @reve-writes

nikolai lantsov

come on back to me by @atlabeth

bad luck by @atlabeth

nine long years (on-going series) by @ellewritesalright

enchanted by @in-my-feels-probably

a familiar melody by thehistoriangirl on ao3

bridgerton

benedict bridgerton

drunk sketches by @delehosies

a lady’s guide to surviving the ton by @atlabeth

ACOTAR

azriel

the green emotion by @utterlyazriel

love will unravel me (so please keep your hands held tight) by @utterlyazriel

daughter of autumn by @writingcroissant

nightlight (on-going series) by @azsazz

cassian

flames and embers by @hellodarling1357

star wars

anakin skywalker

shifting gears by awritesthings1 on ao3

the handmaiden (on-going series) by rufflesandbows on ao3

my very soul (on-going series) by skywalkerog on ao3 @anakinskywalkerog

obi-wan kenobi

fleeting moments (series) by fitzfiles on ao3

#luke castellan x reader #peter parker x reader #fic rec #ren recs #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #marvel #mcu #spiderman x reader #masterlist #steve rogers x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #finnick odair x reader #bucky barnes x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #kaz brekker x reader #grishaverse #percy jackson x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #azriel x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #obi wan x reader #got me giggling and shit #tim drake x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #anakin skywalker x reader

[imaginecentralworld]

💎The Season's Diamond💎

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚

ʚɞ Anthony Bridgerton x female reader

ʚɞ PART 2 and PART 3

ʚɞ Summary: Amidst preparations for the Queen's ball where the season's Diamond will be chosen, Lady Y/N Dalton navigates her feelings for her close friend Anthony. As plans and secrets unfold with the help of the Bridgerton family, Y/N faces a transformative evening that could determine her future.

ʚɞ Word Count: 530 (Words), 3,158 (characters)

ʚɞ Warning: This ends with a cliffhanger, more parts will come.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.

At the bustling French boutique Modiste, Madame Delacroix flitted around you, pinning and tucking the fabric of a gown that shimmered like the morning dew. The air was filled with the scent of fresh silks and the soft murmur of anticipation. Lady Bridgerton, standing by your mother, was deep in conversation, plotting with a fervor only matched by their desire to see you named the Diamond of the season.

"You truly have an eye for elegance, Y/N," Lady Bridgerton praised, watching you twirl gently in your nearly finished gown. "This shade of blue not only complements your eyes but also sets you apart in any crowd. The Queen herself will be enchanted, I dare say."

Your mother nodded in agreement, her eyes gleaming with pride. "Indeed, Violet. With this gown and the right presentation at the ball, Y/N will outshine all. We must consider every detail meticulously."

As plans were laid and laughter shared, the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows through the windows of the Bridgerton estate where dinner awaited. You felt a flutter of excitement, not just for the ball but for the chance to spend more time with Anthony, whose earlier attentions had left your heart racing.

Dinner was a lively affair at the Bridgerton household, filled with boisterous talk and the clinking of silverware. Anthony sat across from you, his gaze often lingering longer than was customary, filled with an unspoken question. Every smile, every glance sent a thrill of wonder through your heart about his true feelings.

As dessert was served—a delightful array of sweets that only added to the evening’s indulgence—Anthony cleared his throat, capturing the attention of everyone at the table.

"Lady Dalton, Y/N," he began, his voice steady but imbued with a warmth that made your pulse quicken, "I have been considering the upcoming ball and the Queen’s selection of the Diamond. While we all hope for the best, I believe Y/N’s brilliance is evident to all, regardless of titles or accolades bestowed."

You blushed, heart pounding, as murmurs of agreement circled the table.

Anthony continued, "In fact, I would like to propose a toast." He raised his glass, his eyes locking with yours. "To Y/N, whose grace and beauty surpass any jewel in the Queen's crown. May she always shine as brightly as she does tonight."

Glasses clinked in unison, and cheers filled the room. Your eyes met Anthony’s, and in that moment, you sensed the depth of his regard, something perhaps deeper than mere friendship. But before you could ponder it further, Lady Bridgerton leaned in, her voice low and conspiratorial.

"And now, my dear, we have a surprise for you tomorrow that might just tip the scales in our favor for the Queen’s decision," she whispered, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Your heart skipped a beat, curiosity piqued. "What kind of surprise?"

"You shall see," Lady Bridgerton replied, the mystery lingering in the air as dinner concluded and the evening waned. You were left wondering about Anthony’s lingering looks and the impending surprise, your mind a whirl of possibilities as the night drew to a close, setting the stage for an unforgettable day to come.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿

Just binged Bridgerton in prep for Season 3 and now I'm basically an expert on all things Anthony 🎩✨. Brace yourselves for a deluge of Bridgerton bros content - it's about to get regal up in here! 🍿👑 #TheViscountWhoLovedMe #MoreBridgertonBrosPlease

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagines #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton fanfiction #the viscount who loved me #MoreBridgertonBrosPlease #Bridgerton bros

[mayfieldss]

Messy - Anthony Bridgerton

Synopsis: What was supposed to go as a smooth business meeting ends rather the opposite, thanks to Anthony's great distraction; you.

Content Warnings: written at 1am and not proofread. Proceed at your own risk.

Anthony was trying his best to be a gentleman. He prided himself on just that, after all, and would be mortified to be seen as anything else. That is why, when things got particularly disastrous, Anthony could not stop the apologies spilling from his lips.

The day had begun simple enough. The sky was the perfect shade of blue, matching the theme of the Bridgerton household without fail, and the sun peeked through thin clouds enough to cast its warmth in a comfortable manner. Your family had been set to meet with the Bridgerton's at noon, a business deal that would hopefully provide wealth and further status to both families alike. And when you'd arrived, carriage and horses pulling to a stop on the gravel, nothing had been amiss. In fact, everyone involved had been more than confident in the speed at which the deal could be made. There was much to discuss, yes, but without interruption, time would pass quickly, and you'd be home before you knew it. And yet, that wasn't the way things occurred.

Anthony takes the blame himself, for if he had kept focused perhaps nothing would have gone awry. But when his eyes landed on you, stepping down from the carriage with the help of your older brother's hand, he was stuck. It was as though his gaze was caught on you, like a thread hooked upon a nail, and he couldn't cut himself loose.

"Lord Bridgerton," your greeting was lost, as were everyone else's as his ears roared with shame. He was flustered, it seemed, and you had done nothing yet to cause it.

He sent you a smile, welcomed you, and your family, to the estate, trying wholeheartedly to snap himself from this trance. And for a while he thought to have succeeded.

Inside his home, everyone sat in the living room, and across from Anthony sat your oldest brother, in the place of your father who Anthony could only assume would not be joining you. Perhaps the man had passed like his own parent, or maybe some other reason was behind it. But Anthony had no troubles with a man closer to his age, and he was more than ready to converse in the gentlemanly manner he had trained himself to default to. You sat near Anthony's mother, discussing the rose gardens and other rather lady-like things, but there was something about your posture that told Anthony you could not care less about the flowers outside the large windows.

You held a pleasing smile, and to any passer by you might appear interested in such a topic, but to Anthony you were anything but convincing. Your eyes were distant from the conversation, and your hands were occupied fiddling with the folds of your dress. You were nodding along, with nothing much to say other than compliments toward his mothers gardeners. He was an actor himself at times, in fact this business deal required an almost theatre like performance to sell, and he could see his own tactics as well as some his siblings strategies coming through in you.

"Lord Bridgerton," This time, his title did not come from you, but rather your brother, whom Anthony had been unknowingly ignoring in favour of examining your actions.

Anthony clears his throat, and he can feel the heat rising up his neck underneath his collar. "Yes, sorry, go on." He doesn't have a clue what the man before him had been saying previously, and even as the conversation continues he is hardly listening. He's scolding himself internally, trying to keep it together.

He's able to hold focus on the matters at hand for awhile after that, and everything seemed to be running smooth enough—until the tea arrived.

Mrs Wilson had meant no harm when she entered the room, and in truth, none of the following events had been her fault. She was simply a housekeeper, and Anthony should have been paying more attention. He was attentive to some things, the way you moved included. The smile you sent Mrs Wilson when she offered you tea, and the way strands of your hair fell forward into your vision at the nod of your head made him want to get up and cross the room to you. It made him want to brush them back and touch the skin that he could see. He wanted to speak with you then, he realized, and had he held any sense, he would have pushed the idea back into the depths of his mind. In a pause of conversation between you brother, Anthony decides to stand and cross the room, to where you and his mother reside. Your own mother sits beside you, bewildered at his sudden approach, and yet it doesn't occur to him that this could go wrong.

"Let me, Mrs Wilson." Anthony doesn't know why he takes the teapot from the housekeeper, nor does he understand why he finds himself pouring tea for the set of women before him. But the way your eyes run over him, the upturn of your lips to his actions makes it all worth it. Of course, until it all goes wrong. Again.

"Anthony, the tea!" his mothers voice rings in his ears, and when he looks back toward the teacups his eyes widen. He's overfilling the cup you hold as she speaks, and the hot liquid spills onto your hands. You yelp in surprise, seemingly not having noticed his mistake until you felt the burn, and drop your cup abruptly. The sound of it shattering is sharp, echoing along with Anthony's embarrassment.

"My apologies Miss L/N, I did not intend to—are you okay?" he watches as you scramble to your feet, trying your best to avoid the other splashes of the hot tea, and the shards of the cup upon the floor.

"No, I am sorry Lord Bridgerton," Your eyes move quickly between the broken teacup and your dress, now stained. He can see embarrassment in your own movements, and can feel it in his.

"I was the one at fault, Miss. Please allow me to apologize," Anthony had not realized how close he had come to you until this moment, his eyes scanning over your figure trying to find any way he could help. But it struck him suddenly to know that he had taken your hands in his own. He had been checking for burns from the tea, but now the feeling of your skin on his brought heat to his cheeks.

He drops your hands abruptly, casting his gaze to your brother, who stands disapprovingly to his left. "I am sorry again," Anthony takes a step back, though now your eyes have met with his, and he can see something in him that suggests he might not be the only one flustered by the encounter. "Are you harmed at all? Did you need assistance, perhaps by one of the maids, or a doctor?" he can still feel the weight of your fingers held in his own, even now as space lies between you.

"I am okay, my Lord, though I am rather embarrassed." the way your eyes sparkle seems just for him, and when you shift your gaze towards the maids, now cleaning up the mess from moments before, he watches the small and bashful smile you once held fall.

"My apologies, I should have been more careful." You say to the maids and all others in the room, though Anthony is shaking his head before the full sentence can even dare to leave you.

"It was me who was careless. You are not at fault." he places a hand over his heart, once again ignoring all other surroundings in favor of absorbing you. "I am sorry if I caused you any pain, and given the chance, I would love to provide funds for a new dress to replace the one my incautious behavior has ruined." his words cause a small, almost inaudible gasp from his mother, though he can see her expression in his peripheral. He will not hear the end of this for a while, he thinks. Once word got out amongst his siblings that he had found a soft spot for a woman he hardly knew, enough to pay for new garments, he would be endlessly teased. And yet he didn't care. Because the look on your face, one of shock, and fascination made him feel important.

That however, was the moment where your brother cleared his throat. Breaking through whatever connection Anthony had made with you.

"Are we to continue with business, Bridgerton?" He sounds irritated, and it's clear he can see exactly how the viscount is feeling. It's not hard to notice by now that Anthony's gaze is hardly able to break from you for a second.

"Yes, of course." Anthony is still looking at you when he says it, and only when a hand is placed on his arm, his mother's, pushing him back toward his seat, does he break free of the spell you so effortlessly place.

A few weeks later and the carpet has been cleaned, no stain has been left from the tea, and the teacup broken has long been replaced. The Bridgerton estate is bustling with noise, its latest ball bringing the entire ton and more to the premises. As Anthony's eyes scan the room, cautious of making any wrong moves, as usual, his heart wanders, leaving him behind. You stand with a drink delicately in hand, ivory gloved fingers with a gentle grasp upon the glass. Anthony, once again, can not look away.

When you finally meet his eyes, he is unable to stop himself, moving through the ballroom swiftly, even as many others try to stop him for conversation. The other women of the ton pause their own movements in the hopes the viscount may be coming to speak with them, and with each lady is passes, disappointment, and envy fill the room.

"Miss L/N." He greets you with a smile, partly because he can't help himself at the sight of you.

"Lord Bridgerton." you attempt a short bow, one that is barely there at all, but he doesn't mind. Somehow he knows you're teasing him. Testing him perhaps, in the way you smirk.

"I am pleased to see you again. You look wonderful tonight." his usual flattery makes you scoff, partly in shock, though there is humor there too. It is not at all lady-like, nor what your mother trained of you, but Anthony finds a thrill in the behavior, as inappropriate as it may be.

"Do you not believe me?" he asks, watching as you take a sip of your drink. You do it almost to fill the gap between his speech, and it seems practiced. As if you have done the same to pause conversation between many men before him.

"No, I do believe you my lord. I am aware of my appearance. Though I should thank you, for this dress is the one you paid for."

"It seems to me that it was money well spent." Anthony is a gentleman, though he can picture himself with his hands tangled in the dress you wear tonight. Knowing that he was the one to gift it to you somehow makes his feelings grow stronger.

"It does seem so." There's a quiet between you after your words, partly because he can not think of anything more to say, and you laugh in the space of the silence. A gentle sound, not loud enough for many other than him to hear, but the grin that accompanies it is what makes Anthony's stomach flip. It's something he had never predicted occurring within himself, and yet, now he can feel it.

"Would you like to dance?" he asks, and somehow he knows you'll say yes, if only to continue the tension between you. You nod at first, handing off your glass to a passing waiter, before taking his hand.

"I would love to."

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[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: Sexual themes at the Granville studio. Nothing explicit.

Season one

Chapter Eleven - Ruse to ruse

♡♡♡

Colin had brought you here, so he saw to it that he saw you home, though Benedict was a little reluctant. He kind of wanted to do it himself, but there wasn't time to argue and dawdle.

Anthony and Benedict would see Daphne home, Colin would take you, and Simon would need to go home and prepare himself for his future with Daphne.

Colin was good at riding. He handled the horse with perfection. You were home before your mother was even properly awake. He helped you off the horse, and you thanked him quickly, going around the back of the house knowing the servants would be up already.

Colin rode away before he was seen.

You dodged some maids as you returned to your room and quickly dressed down to make it look like you had been in bed the entire time.

You were lucky to get back when you did. A mere ten or fifteen minutes passed before your maid came into the room to wake you. You stretched and rose from the bed, relying on your acting to fool the poor girl into believing you hadn't been awake since before dawn.

She seems none the wiser as she tells you breakfast will be ready shortly and that your mother was awake.

Once you're up and dressed, you can act naturally. Everything that happens now is just the course of things. Daphne and Simon shall marry, she'll become a duchess, and Violet can set her sights on her next daughter, Eloise.

You enter the dining hall and see your mother already there, starting her breakfast. You join her with a smile.

"Good morning, dear."

"Good morning."

She seems none the wiser as to what you had been doing earlier that morning. For that, you are thankful. You tuck into your breakfast and pretend nothing had happened.

You've barely eaten when the butler comes in and announces you have a guest. You glance up at your mother with confusion. However, she looks thrilled.

"A caller?"

You don't even get to answer before she's up and heading toward the door to see who it was. You stand, too. Your mother returns moments later being followed by Benedict.

You look at him in confusion this time.

"Mr. Bridgerton, how delighted we are for your visit," your mother coos.

"An innocent visit, I assure you," he replies.

Your mother looks at you and tilts her head in his direction.

"What brings you to our door?" You ask, looking at Benedict.

"I thought I'd share the news. Daphne is engaged to the duke. She told mother this morning." He speaks slightly strained. Of course you already knew this information.

"How wonderful!" Your mother cheers.

"Yes. Very. Is she happy?" You ask, playing along.

"I'm sure they both will be." You catch the change of tone in his voice.

Silence settles between you both.

"Don't mind me," your mother says, returning to her seat at the table.

You sigh softly and turn to Benedict. "I'll show you out."

Your mother calls your name and then says, "so soon?"

"I'm sure Mr. Bridgerton was just delivering the good news in person. After all, they are my friends, mother."

You didn't give her time to answer before leading him out of the dining room. Benedict followed you to the door.

"What are you doing here?" You ask.

"I had to make sure you got home alright," he says softly.

"Colin brought me home."

"I know..."

You sigh softly and look up at him. "How is your mother coping?"

"She is pleased Daphne is marrying the duke. However, it would seem that Cressida Cowper may have seen them in the garden that night." He explains.

"Oh dear..."

"I'm sure all will be well, but we must keep our wits about us for now."

"Then why did you come here?"

"I told you. To make sure you got home."

"Do you not trust your brother?" You ask.

"Of course I do," he replies quickly. "I just wanted to see you."

You smile and then chuckle. "You worry too much. You should go home and be there for Daphne. She will need all the support she can get right now."

He sighs softly and nods. Benedict does leave immediately. He just looks at you. You're unable to read the expression on his face as you stare back at him in confusion.

He soon snaps out of his daze and takes his leave. You watch him go.

When you return to the dining room, your mother looks at you. "Why did you show him out so soon?"

"Mother..."

"He could have come with good intentions."

"He just came to tell me of Daphne's news," you say, sitting down once again.

"He may want to court you."

"Mother, I can assure you that my future husband will not be a Bridgerton. That will never happen."

Your mother grumbles. "You never know."

You look down into your tea cup and see your reflection in the hot liquid. "No, mother. I do know."

♡♡♡

Daphne was to be married within the week, so you hear from her when you visit her family the day after the duel.

Violet was all a buzz with the news, truly believing her daughter was marrying for love, but everything you looked to the eldest Bridgerton daughter, you could only see the anxiety on her face.

Poor Violet would never know what really happened.

Eloise excused herself from all things wedding related, so you accompanied where you could. Daphne was grateful to have a hand to hold when her emotions became too much sometimes.

When she was fitted for her wedding dress, you held her hand. When her mother went through gloves and veils, you were stood there beside her, your arm hooked with hers. When they discussed nightdresses, you stood beside her and kept her company.

Daphne was glad you were there. She surely would have lost her patience had you not been.

When you returned to their home later that day only to find out from Anthony, the special license had been denied, Daphne reached for your hand again.

The conversation was cut short when Violet entered the room to greet Lady Danbury.

"Now, this is far too grim a mood for the celebration I was counting on," Lady Danbury said, looking at everyone. "What on earth is the matter?"

"Anthony?" Violet looks at her son.

"We have been denied our request for a special license," he tells them.

"What?"

"The archbishop did not see a need." The duke added.

"It is not the archbishop," Lady Danbury says. "It is the queen. Perhaps she has taken your rejection of her nephew to heart, or perhaps she is simply bored. Either way, it does not bode well for your daughter's social future, nor any of the Bridgertons for that matter."

You feel Daphne squeeze your hand.

"Surely we must be able to do something?" Violet asks.

"Give her what she wants. Attention. Appear before her yourselves and make a personal appeal. But she will not respond to begging, and she can sniff out even the faintest whiff of insincerity, so do not lay it on thick. Tell her you are in love, plain and simple and true."

Daphne and Simon look at each other. Daphne looks like she could cry.

"You can do that, can you not?" Lady Danbury asks them.

Daphne nods her head. Then Simon gives one firm nod also.

"Good. Now, where is the dinner I was promised?"

Violet chuckles and leads the way.

You let go of Daphne's hand and follow her mother. Anthony accompanies you, and the happy couple follow.

♡♡♡

Benedict returns to the studio of Mr. Granville. He has chosen to sit out dinner with his family, not knowing you were there.

Henry answers the door.

"Bridgerton! I am so glad you came."

"I dare not miss it," Benedict answered.

"Please, come in."

The two of them head inside.

"Make yourself at home. I would show you around, but host duty calls." Henry smiles and walks on ahead.

The studio is much more lively tonight. There are people everywhere. Benedict walks down the hall a little bit and peers into one of the open doorways. The room is full of pretty women dressed in as little possible dancing around. He keeps on walking and peers into another room. There are people sketching in this one.

"What are you doing here?"

Benedict turns around to find a woman looking at him.

"Apologies. Have we met?" He asks.

"We need not to have met," she says. "You are a Bridgerton, yes?"

Benedict, of course, would not recognise the seamstress.

"I see my reputation precedes me."

"Not exactly a virtue."

"Anything that gets me your attention is a good thing, I rather think."

"You should go, home to your brother, perhaps."

Benedict scoffs. "But I'm receiving far too warm a welcome here."

They later find themselves on the stairs enjoying each other. His lips on her neck and collarbone as his large, warm hands explore every curve of her body.

She takes his hand and leads him down the stairs and through the crowds. He hurries forward to find them a room, opening a door only to find Henry Granville and another gentleman enjoying each other up against the wall.

Henry's eyes land on Benedict as he stands there, watching them. Slowly, Benedict steps out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"Bridgerton," Genevieve whispers.

She's sat with a young woman nearby. She uses her finger to gesture him over. He walks over immediately, sitting between them and kissing the young lady. He then turns and kisses Genevieve, too.

He enjoys his evening with the pair of them.

It was safe to say, this man had no intention of settling down any time soon.

♡♡♡

The dinner passes by rather quietly. There is a slight tension between Simon and Daphne. Violet and Lady Danbury carry most of the conversation, and you join in when possible.

The only other Bridgerton's at the table were Anthony and Eloise, though the latter made it clear she would rather be anywhere else.

You find yourself a little disappointed at the lack of Benedict. Anthony just told you his brother had gone out. He knew not where. You didn't bother digging if he didn't know.

"What about you? Are there any prospects this season for you?" Lady Danbury asks, gesturing to you with her wine glass.

You look uo and find yourself a little stunned at the question. "Oh, um. I had some callers. Though not many. Very few came back a second time." You look down at your dinner.

"Worry not. You're still young. Your time to shine will come," she winks at you.

Violet looks at Anthony, who furrows his brow at her. When she nods her head at you, he shakes his head with wide eyes. Violet gives him a firmer look.

You look up, and she quickly smiles at you.

Anthony sighs and turns his head toward you. He keeps his voice low. "Whatever my mother says, do not buy into it."

"Hm?" You look at him with confusion.

"Anthony," Violet calls. Both of you look up at her. "Why not keep her company tomorrow?"

"Mother..."

"It would surely make her happy." Violet smiles brightly.

"Lady Bridgerton, there is no need," you try and steer her away from setting her up with one of her sons.

"I'm sure he won't mind."

"You're busy, no?" You ask quickly, turning to the young Viscount. "You mentioned some ledgers or something."

Anthony nods quickly. "Yes. Exactly. Those ledgers."

Violet sinks in her seat a little. Disappointed in her son. She can't help thinking you'd make a wonderful daughter-in-law. You would suit the Bridgerton name quite well, she is certain.

When dinner is over, Simon is very quick to leave. He speaks very little to Daphne as he exits the house.

Anthony sees you out.

"Shame Benedict wasn't present," you say absentmindedly.

"You seem rather close to my brother."

"We are friends. Fret not." You smile at him.

"I have no idea where he wanders off to so late at night. Nor do I care to ask."

"What you men do in your free time is your own business," you say.

"What could you possibly know what men get up to?" He asks, looking at you.

You just give him a sly smile, one Anthony simultaneously hates and loves. You're a cheeky one.

"Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton."

"Goodnight."

He waits until you're in the carriage and then heads back inside his house. He walks starlight past his mother, who is gearing up to talk him into courting you, he is sure.

Violet watches him disappear upstairs.

♡♡♡

The next day, Daphne and Simon appear before the queen. You know not what is said in that room, but you are to gather later that Simon Basset made the most romantic speech known to man.

He declared his love Daphne in front of everyone in that room.

The queen gave them her blessing.

It worked.

♡♡♡

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#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #Bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

[xximpressions]

The Duchess (2)

Anthony Bridgerton x Duchess!reader

Series Summary: After coming into a title you did not expect, you have a chance encounter with a handsome rescuer.

Chapter Summary: You have another chance encounter

Word Count: 1,743

A/N: Yup! This is happening! I plan on five chapters for now, but I honestly love this idea so much that I could extend it way out depending on the comments I get, so let me know what you think below! :)

Bridgerton Masterlist

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The greenery of the park was an enjoyable sight to see as you took a leisurely stroll by yourself on such a sunny day.

With your gaze full of the stretching grasses, towering trees, and manicured bushes, you found that you were easily lost in a serene daze.

It was only when you noticed an unexpected pop of blue amongst all the shades of green that your mind slowly came back to reality.

Squinting, you tried to make out what the pop of blue was as it fluttered in the wind on a low hanging branch.

Reaching up and pulling it between your fingers, you held the object out in front of you and saw that it was a beautiful silk ribbon.

You were about to wonder who it might belong to when the sounds of an inconsolable child reached your ears.

“No! You do not understand, Daphne! Mama will never let me have another ribbon again!”

Turning your head to see a little girl now openly crying nearby with two other people trying their best to comfort her, you cautiously began to make your way closer as the one you assumed to be Daphne spoke in a kind voice.

“Oh, I am sure that is not true, Hyacinth. Mother will be nothing but understanding if you have misplaced your ribbon.”

But the child only shook her head in fervent disagreement as her sobs continued.

Having finally neared the group of three, you tried to be as gentle as you could when you opened your mouth and said,

“Excuse me, Lovely?”

Speaking directly to the young girl, you waited till her cries had slowed into sniffles and she looked your way with brokenhearted eyes.

“I saw that this matched your dress perfectly and wondered if it might be yours?”

With a friendly smile, you held your hand out for her to see what you were holding and got to watch as her expression changed from devastated to astonished within a second.

“My ribbon!” She happily gasped with disbelief.

After hurriedly taking it from your grasp and giving it an inspection, the child looked back up to you with a bright grin on her face as she said,

“It is mine! Thank you!”

You waved a dismissive hand as you kindly responded,

“Oh, it was my pleasure, sweet one.”

Pleasantly done with your task, you were turning to walk away when you suddenly heard,

“Wait!”

Looking back, you listened as the now enthusiastic girl said,

“My name is Hyacinth! This is my sister Daphne and her husband Simon.” She said while pointing at the nearby couple.

Turning back to you, she eagerly asked,

“What is your name?”

Charmed at her genuine curiosity, you smiled as you introduced yourself.

Recognizing your married last name, the one called Simon began to speak.

“Ah, I was an acquaintance of your late husband. You have my condolences on his passing.”

You gave a customary nod of thanks while his wife proceeded to sympathetically say,

“Yes, mine as well, Duchess. I know how difficult it can be to rejoin society after a loss. If you are ever in need of a listening ear, I would be happy to fulfill that role. Especially after you found my sister’s ribbon.”

Touched at the kind offer, you were about to reply when the aforementioned sister gave a surprised gasp and looked at you with wide eyes.

“You are a Duchess?!” She incredulously asked. “Daphne is a Duchess!”

Unable to contain her sudden glee, the once crying girl started to jump in place as she asked,

“Are you in need of a husband?? My eldest brother says he is in need of a wife, and I think you would be perfect!”

While Daphne said Hyacinth’s name in reprimand, you were trying to hide your bashful and humored laughter at her childishly audacious question.

Immediately brushing off the other titled women’s attempt to apologize on her sister’s behalf, you decided to give an amused reply to the girl’s inquiry.

“Oh, is that so? And who might your eldest brother be?”

Without hesitation, Hyacinth proudly announced,

“Anthony Bridgerton! He is a Viscount!”

Without another moment’s pause, her eyes started to dart around in search of something as she excitedly said,

“He is here today! But where has he gone to?”

When her small stature failed to help in finding her brother, the Duke and Duchess of Hastings also began to look and only stopped once they noticed a sizable number of females crowding one man.

While they both smirked to themselves at what they saw, it was the Duke who inevitably explained with a touch of cheekiness,

“That is Anthony being surrounded by all the other women who want to become his wife.”

Following his gaze with your own, you had to stop yourself from freezing in place as you recognized the person he was pointing out. 

Because with a thrilling flutter, you realized it was your handsome rescuer from the ball.

As you continued looking, you saw that Simon had not been exaggerating when he said the one called ‘Anthony’ was being surrounded.

There must have been at least half a dozen Mamas and their daughters trying to get the attention of this apparent bachelor. 

Admittedly, you could see why.

But before you could dwell on the sight any further, Hyacinth let out an offended sound.

“But they cannot be his wife! I did not choose them!”

As you looked back at her brother clearly struggling across the way, your mind quickly came to a decision about the situation.

Giving the young girl a reassuring smile, you said with a playful seriousness,

“Then we must do something now, mustn’t we?”

Without waiting for a reply, you began to make your way toward the mob-like chaos.

You allowed yourself close enough to the fray to be heard before you politely called out over the pushy chatter of this season’s debutantes,

“Lord Bridgerton?”

All the talking ceased when Lord Bridgerton’s head turned and his eyes locked with yours.

Seeing the recognition on his face, you hoped you were not too bold as you continued by saying for the sake of your audience,

“Were we not to promenade through the park today?”

Phrasing the question so he could refuse your help if he wanted to, you saw the immediate gratitude shining in his eyes when he caught your meaning and did not.

“Yes, we were!” He happily agreed in reply.

As he started to give his regrets and apologies while smoothly extracting himself from the crowd of silently stunned ladies, he kept flicking his eyes back to yours as if to ensure you would not disappear until he was securely next to you on the sidewalk.

Wanting to put some distance between the mob still watching and himself, Anthony was only too glad to offer you his arm as he escorted you away.

Once you were safe from being overheard, Lord Bridgerton quietly admitted while keeping to a leisurely stroll,

“I did not expect to see you again.”

Given how your second meeting had come about, you could not stop yourself from giving a coy smile as you shrugged and said in response,

“You looked like you were in need of rescuing from where I was standing.”

Because you were facing forward as you both walked side by side, you did not get to see the humored smirk on Lord Bridgerton’s face as he recalled saying those exact words to you. 

But you did get to listen as he replied in an amused tone.

“Merely a matter of perspective, was it not?”

Glancing toward you as he asked this question meant you each caught the other’s gaze when you happened to look his way as well.

Only being able to hold the staring contest for a few moments, you and the Viscount wound up letting out small chuckles of laughter seconds later. 

After collecting yourselves, you continued to walk in a comfortable silence that was broken when Anthony decided to ask,

“So how are you?”

When you looked at him with surprise, he briefly cleared his throat and followed up with,

“It is just that I could not help but wonder how you were doing after the ball?”

Not wishing to think about that night or the drunk who ruined it, you were quick to say,

“I am fine, thank you.”

While flashing him a reassuring grin.

Somehow unconvinced, Anthony hesitated for a moment before proceeding to say, 

“I also could not help but to wonder why that man was trying to attack you at all?”

Huffing a small sigh at the question, you responded with a rueful smile on your lips. 

“And I am afraid you will have to continue wondering.”

Pulling away in order to face the Viscount, you switched to a more formal voice as you decided it was time for this interaction to come to a close.

“Lord Bridgerton, while you have my gratitude for what you did that night, I would say that we are currently even. So, I think it best that we go our separate ways from now on.”

With that said, you gave a polite smile as you dipped your head in goodbye and started to take your leave.

But you had only just made it past him when a bold question stopped you in your tracks.

“And if I disagreed?”

Pausing, it took a quick second for you to understand the implication of his words. But once you did, you slowly turned your head to look back at your former rescuer and saw the sincere expression of a simmering challenge.

Stuck in his gaze, your eyes mimicked a challenge of their own as you slyly replied with a smirk now on your face,

“I was unfortunately not asking for your opinion.”

And turned to continue walking away.

Anthony could only watch as your figure moved further and further into the distance before his approaching eldest sister caught his attention.

“Brother? What was all that about?”

Still in a state of complete intrigue, Anthony was honest when he responded by saying,

“I am not sure.”

As his mind began to whirl at the thought of needing to see you again in order to find out, he turned toward Daphne after being struck with a brilliant idea.

“But we are going to throw a dinner party,” He said, now smiling. “And I very much look forward to getting an answer.” 

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#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x black!reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine

[jamilelucato]

The Writer and The Illustrator (Part 02)

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Miss [y/n]

Summary: (Part 01 / Part 03) Miss [y/n] finds herself entangled in a clandestine collaboration with Mr. Benedict Bridgerton. As they navigate their partnership, their connection deepens, sparking whispers of courtship among society's elite.

Age rating: although this chapter is pretty chill for younger audiences, the next part will have more explicit scenes, so let’s keep it 18+.

Author’s note: Two chapters in the same day? Am I amazing or what? The third part comes in some hours, though.

To read Anthony’s fic, click here! For other stories, click here.Enjoy!

He was late.

[y/n] glanced at her timeworn pocket watch, a token from her elder sister's husband bestowed upon her during her last birthday. Her patience wore thin as Mr Bridgerton dallied in his arrival.

Hyde Park hummed with activity, yet it held no intimidation for [y/n] and her clandestine pursuit. She was seated on a bench and accompanied by her hired companion, Mrs Pittsburg.

Mrs Pittsburg was a good matron, not as old as Lady Danbury, but still old enough to be someone's grandma. Since [y/n] outgrew the need for a governess, her family enlisted Mrs. Pittsburg's companionship to ensure her company during social engagements and outings.

After all, for Mrs Pittsburg's concern and the now man of the family, [y/n]'s brother, Mr Benedict Bridgerton had asked the young lady for a promenade in the park. 

[y/n] hated she had to tell such a misleading lie — Mr Bridgerton was far from courting her — but it was the only thing to explain her need to spend an afternoon with the gentleman.

"He loses my respect by the minute," Mrs. Pittsburg remarked, drawing [y/n]'s attention. "And yours too, I should think."

"Indeed, he may well be," Miss [y/n] concurred, tucking the watch back into its pocket.

[y/n] was rather fond of the dress she had chosen for the occasion. Though practical, with the convenience of a pocket, one might argue it lent her an air of maturity beyond her twenty-five years. Yet, such concerns scarcely crossed her mind.

"Oh," sighed Mrs. Pittsburg, her gaze wandering across the park. "There he is. A lanky lad, I'd say. Much too tall."

[y/n] attempted to follow Mrs. Pittsburg's gaze in vain. She would have to wait and see.

"No need to rise," Mrs. Pittsburg interjected, observing [y/n]'s movement on the bench. "Let him come to you. If he's truly interested, he'll seek you out."

Of course, in this instance, genuine interest was sorely lacking. Nonetheless, [y/n] remained silent and seated, preferring not to ruffle the old lady's feathers.

Fortunately for the ladies, Mr. Bridgerton approached. He sported a hat in a rich shade of blue, complementing his attire impeccably. Benedict cut a dashing figure, [y/n] noted, regret momentarily tugging at her for choosing practicality over a gown befitting a courtship.

"Good afternoon, ladies," Mr. Bridgerton greeted with a deferential nod. Mrs. Pittsburg rested a hand on [y/n]'s shoulder, compelling her to remain seated. "I beg your pardon for my tardiness. My mother detained me longer than anticipated."

Before Mrs. Pittsburg could voice her disdain for his flimsy excuse, [y/n] intervened. "No trouble at all, Mr. Bridgerton. Let me introduce you to Mrs. Pittsburg, my esteemed companion and friend."

Mrs. Pittsburg maintained her grip on [y/n]'s shoulder as she exchanged pleasantries with the gentleman.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Pittsburg. Your husband's tailoring skills are unparalleled."

Unprepared for the compliment, [y/n] watched with interest as Mrs Pittsburg's demeanour softened, pleased by the acknowledgement of her husband's talents. In that brief exchange, Benedict managed to dispel some of the lady's reservations, though [y/n] suspected a crucial factor still hindered their meeting.

Mrs Pittsburg likely perceived Miss [y/n] as beneath the status of a late Viscount's second son. Admittedly, the earnings from [y/n]'s literary endeavours significantly contributed to her family's welfare. Despite her brother accepting the payments under the guise of a generous aunt, [y/n] surmised he would have done so regardless of their origin.

In fairness, Mrs. Pittsburg's apprehensions were not entirely unfounded.

"Mr Bridgerton, Miss [y/l/n], I shall take my leave now as I wish to stretch my legs a bit. I trust you won't mind, my dear?" the elderly lady inquired, her tone charming as ever. It was a stark contrast to her earlier grumblings.

"Not in the least, Mrs Pittsburg," [y/n] affirmed, offering a polite smile.

"I'll be nearby, fear not," the companion assured, releasing her hold on [y/n]'s shoulder.

[y/n] nodded once more, too embarrassed to meet Bridgerton's gaze. Undoubtedly, he would be curious about the old lady's insinuations regarding their supposed courtship.

As soon as Mrs. Pittsburg departed, Benedict extended his hand to [y/n].

"Shall we promenade around?"

The irony of his choice of words, mirroring her own to her brother, was not lost on her as she accepted his gloved hand with a smile.

They had scarcely walked a few paces when Benedict broached the subject. "Shall we ask with pretence, or shall I address it as it is?"

"You'll work for W. Jabber as his illustrator. Secrecy is unnecessary," Miss [y/n] replied, her grip on his arm a touch firmer than intended. Using her pseudonym rather than her given name was always a challenge.

Benedict caught on swiftly.

"Ah, yes. Mr. Jabber. A fine man, I must say," he quipped, stealing a glance in her direction, captivated by her presence.

He had retired late the previous evening. [y/n] had been his childhood companion, always charming, and that was the extent of his assessment. He could append a few less flattering adjectives if pressed: too reserved, too reticent, lacking in confidence. Yet, in a single encounter, all his preconceptions had been upended. He struggled to reconcile those descriptors with the woman before him.

Benedict had perused works by W. Jabber before. Four out of nine, to be precise, and each had been a resounding success, according to his seller. He found them profound, each word imbued with layers of meaning that demanded careful consideration. Although not an avid reader, W. Jabber held a place of honour on his bookshelf. That meant something.

To discover that W. Jabber, a master of language and intrigue, was the demure Miss [y/n] felt akin to being informed that the sky was, in fact, naturally green.

Benedict realised he had been lingering on her form, his gaze drawn to her ample bosom owing to his height advantage. Hastily averting his eyes, he was relieved to find [y/n] looking straight ahead.

A fine man! W. Jabber had nothing of a fine man.

W. Jabber was a stunningly beautiful woman with features that defied conventional standards of beauty, but that arresting, unconventional beauty was certainly what drew Benedict closer and called his attention the most. She commanded attention effortlessly with an ample bosom and hair of a mesmerising hue. The bodice of her unusual gown hugged her waist before cascading over generous curves, creating gentle swells and dips that seemed to dance in harmony with her every step.

Why had she selected such a gown for a simple afternoon stroll? Could she not have opted for a style more befitting of a young, single, innocent lady? These questions plagued Mr. Bridgerton so thoroughly that he found himself momentarily at a loss for words.

"Does Mrs Pittsburg know?" he inquired, attempting to conjure the image of the rather plain matron, especially compared to the woman who graced his arm as they meandered through Hyde Park.

"No, she remains entirely unaware," [y/n] responded, her tone tinged with amusement at the thought. "No soul knows, save for the publisher. And if you've come here to deliver a favourable response to the proposition, you shall meet him."

Benedict couldn't help but halt their progress mid-stride. [y/n] realised this a tad too late, having taken a step ahead in their stroll. Releasing his arm, she turned to face him without shifting her stance.

"You haven't come to deliver a favourable answer," she deduced from his sudden cessation.

"No, I..."

"It's of no consequence," she interjected, securing her hat against a sudden gust of wind. Resuming her walk, she anticipated his proximity behind her. "I had always considered 'no' a plausible outcome. It's a risk too great for one's reputation, after all."

"What's a risky move? To work with the best-selling author W. Jabber?" Benedict asked, hastening to catch up with her. With his own hat in hand, he remained unaffected by the breeze, noting [y/n]'s struggle with it.

Shaking her head, still avoiding direct eye contact, she replied, "Do not jest with me. You are aware of his true identity."

"I am now. I was not previously. To be candid with you, and I trust you shall take it in the good spirit intended, it never occurred to me to ponder the person behind W. Jabber," he confessed. With sudden courage, Benedict gently grasped the young woman's elbow, coaxing her to meet his gaze again. "W. Jabber is an exceptional writer. When tales told are of such brilliance, readers seldom feel compelled to delve into the lives of their creators."

Captivated by the unexpected touch, [y/n] slowly lifted her gaze from where her elbow met Benedict's hand and turned her attention to him. His words were eloquent, yet her insecurities only seemed to strengthen with each passing year. Few could harbour such a secret for as long as she had; she had already invested a decade in this charade.

"So, your reluctance isn't rooted in shame for the author," [y/n] pressed on, eager to steer the conversation away from her lingering dread of exposure. She remained curious as to why Benedict was declining the proposal. "Then why refuse?"

A mischievous grin played upon Benedict's lips. "I am not saying no."

"But you..." Miss [y/n] began, her protest halted by his interruption.

"You scarcely afforded me a moment to speak," he reminded her gently, and she flushed with embarrassment, realising the truth in his words. Mr Bridgerton couldn't help but smile at her reaction, thoroughly delighted to witness her blush spreading from her cheeks down to her neck, and even, with a quick check, he noticed a rosy hue creeping onto the décolletage of her gown.

"If you're not saying no," she declared, seizing Benedict's arm abruptly. While the gesture was appropriate for a stroll in the park, her movement exhibited a swiftness more characteristic of informality than propriety. "Then you're saying yes."

He smiled again, feeling her happiness piercing his veins where their arms touched.

"When may I expect the manuscript?" he inquired, his tone merry and playful.

But the question swiftly extinguished the light in the lady's eyes.

"Oh, no," she protested, shaking her head. "I'm still undergoing the second rewrite; I couldn't possibly furnish you with the entire book at this juncture."

"And how do you propose I illustrate it?"

Benedict Bridgerton had never illustrated a children's book, nor any book, for that matter. Yet, the gentleman was convinced that understanding the narrative was essential to crafting suitable illustrations.

"Of course, you'll read it," [y/n] insisted, referring to her manuscript. "However, I shall provide it to you in chapters. Time is of the essence; regrettably, I procrastinated on completing the initial draft, much to my publisher's chagrin. He wants this book in the hands of children's parents as quickly as possible."

"If it's intended for children, why the urgency to place it in the hands of parents?" Benedict inquired, tilting his head towards the lady.

"Ah, well, that's precisely why its composition proved so protracted," she explained, visibly pleased to expound upon the matter, "and precisely why I shall need to vet all your illustrations before approving."

Benedict waited for her to continue, sensing her fervour in her discourse. He felt a kinship with her passion, reminiscent of his discussions about his paintings with Eloise, his sister.

"The book has a childish facade, yet it is anything but. It operates on multiple levels, you see? There's a surface narrative for children; they'll engage with it and think, 'What a thrilling tale about bees!' However, when parents peruse its pages, they'll discern that the bee society depicted therein resembles British society and our interactions with governmental entities." She seemed oblivious to her surroundings, wholly engrossed in her narrative, envisioning the pages before her despite their absence. Even the wind ceased to perturb her, and she relinquished her struggle to keep her hat anchored, cradling it in her hands instead.

Benedict was entranced.

"The beehive serves as a microcosm of our society and our exploitation of other communities for our gain, often neglecting their well-being in the process, much like bees may pilfer from flowers without reciprocation," she continued, her emotion palpable. "I realise it sounds peculiar to speak of 'bees,' but with the aid of your illustrations, we could create something imbued with darker hues yet still convey beauty."

As Miss [y/l/n] concluded her explanation, she realised she had left the gentleman in a prolonged silence, prompting a wave of embarrassment to wash over her. She turned her head to regard him, silently urging him to offer any commentary.

"So, the bees serve as the story's antagonists?" he inquired, his lips on the verge of a smile.

She almost made it evident that Benedict's question was not what she expected. After such an elaborate discourse, she hadn't anticipated such a simplistic inquiry.

"Some, indeed. Particularly the queen bee," she responded in a measured tone.

Benedict's grin widened, revealing impeccable teeth before he chuckled silently. Though offended by the notion of him laughing at her creation, [y/n] found herself oddly drawn to his mirth.

"What?" she demanded, a hint of irritation seeping into her tone, though her expression betrayed her genuine desire—to share in Benedict's joy.

"I doubt you'll believe it, but," he paused, the laughter subsiding but the happiness lingering in his expression, "my family has long been aware of the villainy of bees. It's heartening to know that the entirety of Britain will soon share our insight."

Benedict couldn't quite decipher the look [y/n] bestowed upon him, but he couldn't deny the grace with which she wore her perplexity. On any other occasion, he mused, he might have kissed her then.

Good Lord, kiss her? What on earth was he thinking? He needed to compose himself, and swiftly, it seemed.

"It would be my pleasure to illustrate your book," he concluded, his words a whisper directed to her, and then, promptly adjusting his posture. There was no room for error with his newly appointed collaborator.

Miss [y/n] [y/l/n] couldn't determine whether to believe the tale of bees and the Bridgertons. However, if that connection was all it took to elicit Benedict Bridgerton's affirmative response, then the story's veracity mattered little to her.

On their inaugural day of collaboration, Miss [y/n] arrived at the Bridgerton House with her initial pages in hand, intending to deliver them to Mr Bridgerton for his perusal.

However, her plan of swift departure was thwarted when she was intercepted by none other than Violet Bridgerton herself, who insisted she stay for tea, citing their familial connection as a reason.

Taking the chance, Benedict withdrew his implements and positioned himself in a discreet corner, remaining silent as the women engaged in conversation.

Following a thorough review of the pages, Benedict retrieved his tools and commenced a rough sketch, his focus unwavering as he captured the essence of [y/n]'s opening chapter.

As Miss [y/l/n], Lady Bridgerton, Miss Eloise, and Miss Hyacinth exchanged gossip and pleasantries, Benedict toiled away at his easel, charcoal in hand, diligently bringing [y/n]'s words to visual life. Meanwhile, [y/n] watched quietly from a distance, her gaze a blend of admiration and critique as she observed his every stroke.

Upon concluding tea and pleasantries, Lady Bridgerton gracefully requested her son, Benedict, to escort Miss [y/n] out. Though her carriage awaited her outside, etiquette dictated that he see her to the door.

Seizing the opportunity, Benedict shared his preliminary sketch with [y/n], though he downplayed its significance, insisting it was but a preliminary effort.

"You've captured the essence of the forest! It's truly enchanting," [y/n] exclaimed, breaking the silence that had pervaded their exchange. "It aligns perfectly with my vision."

Benedict met her praise with a shy smile; his cheeks tinged with a youthful blush that only enhanced his appeal. [y/n] was drawn to his earnestness, a sentiment she couldn't entirely suppress.

"Thank you, Miss [y/n]. Your descriptions made it easy to visualise."

Their collaboration had found a comfortable stride, yet an undercurrent of tension persisted between them, perceptible to those attuned to the nuances of their interactions. While society whispered speculations of courtship, oblivious to the truth of their professional alliance, Benedict diligently sketched while [y/n] meticulously reviewed her manuscript, exchanging feedback and suggestions.

Fortune smiled upon them as they were both invited to the same ball, offering [y/n] the perfect opportunity to inquire about Benedict's thoughts on the latest chapter she had dispatched through a delivery boy just the day prior.

"You've captured the emotion in this scene impeccably," Benedict remarked, his eyes lingering on her as they swept across the dance floor in the graceful movements of the waltz. "Your writing possesses a captivating quality."

[y/n]'s cheeks flushed at his praise, a warmth blossoming in her chest at his words. "Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton," she responded, but the formality of addressing him by his last name felt increasingly awkward. She had grown accustomed to referring to him as Benedict Bridgerton in the letters accompanying her chapters. While it maintained a level of professional distance, it now seemed ill-suited to the intimacy of their current setting.

As Benedict guided her gracefully around the ballroom, [y/n] couldn't shake the feeling of eyes upon them. Indeed, it was rare to behold her engaged in a dance, for no gentleman ever asked. But amidst the curious glances, she couldn't help but wonder—were they actually seeing something there?

In the serene sanctuary of his studio within the Bridgerton House, Benedict devoted himself to a particularly intricate illustration, his attention steadfast and unwavering. Across the expanse of the room, [y/n] perched at his family's desk, her mind consumed with thoughts as she diligently penned notes for the forthcoming chapter of her book. Glancing up, Benedict found himself captivated by the sight of her; her brow furrowed in concentration, her lips moving silently as she crafted her prose.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Benedict drank in the image before him, the soft glow of the lamplight casting a halo around [y/n]'s form. He felt a surge of admiration for her dedication and talent, a longing stirring within him that he couldn't quite articulate.

Though tempted to speak, Benedict opted to return to his drawing. The prior evening, [y/n] had led him on a midnight escapade—not the romantic interlude he had secretly hoped for, but an important visit to the publisher she had spoken so highly of. Twelve days into their collaboration, Benedict had yet to formalise the book contract.

Meeting Mr. Brendy, Benedict found a man of integrity who regarded [y/n] with paternal affection. Their private conversation confirmed Mr. Brendy's protective stance, a sentiment Benedict respected deeply.

"She's a remarkable woman. Sometimes I wish she had been born mine," the man told Benedict. "Nonetheless, I'll not hesitate to take action if you endanger her or her career. Do I make myself clear?"

Benedict assured Mr Brendy of his intentions, though the man's knowing smile left him uneasy.

But those concerns were now settled; the contract was signed and sealed. Benedict wouldn't profit much from the whole thing — he wasn't such a famous painter to ask more than the minimum offered. Besides, he felt like [y/n] should be the one profiting more, for if it were not for her descriptions, he wouldn't have been able to draw a thing.

As Benedict meticulously shaded the delicate petals of a flower, his focus consumed by the task at hand, he failed to notice the quiet entrance of his mother, Lady Violet Bridgerton. Across the room, [y/n] had her pen gliding across the paper and had not seen the matron either. Lady Bridgerton observed them both for a moment, noting the intensity of their concentration, before deciding to remain silent and unobtrusive.

Content to let her son and the Miss continue their work undisturbed; Lady Bridgerton turned to leave the room, her footsteps barely audible against the plush carpeting. As she reached the door, however, she noticed a figure waiting by the wall: her youngest daughter, Hyacinth, with an inquisitive gaze fixed upon her mother.

"They've been in the same position for hours. Shouldn't we be worried?" Hyacinth whispered, her brow furrowed in concern.

Lady Bridgerton paused, considering her daughter's words. She glanced back into the room, where Benedict and [y/n] remained engrossed in their tasks, seemingly unaware of their surroundings.

Lady Bridgerton gently smiled toward her daughter, her hesitation brief yet palpable. "Let them be," she murmured softly before gliding down the hallway, leaving the two young creatives to their endeavours, shielded from the outside world.

Hyacinth couldn't shake the sense that there was more to the situation than met the eye, a whisper of secrecy lingering in the air beyond the purview of the adults.

A sense of triumph permeated the room as their gazes lingered upon the final illustration for the book.

Miss [y/n] had meticulously revised her narrative, leaving only Mr. Bridgerton's finishing touches to complete their project.

Stepping back to afford her a closer inspection of his art, Benedict couldn't help but swell with pride at the culmination of their collaboration. [y/n]'s eyes sparkled with excitement as she absorbed the drawing before her.

"It's perfect," she breathed, her voice filled with awe. "You've truly outdone yourself, Ben."

He met her gaze, a warmth spreading through him at the use of a nickname. For the last three days, he noticed [y/n] had started calling him by his given name, too, and he replied by doing the same to her. Yet, to hear her shorten it to "Ben" stirred something deeper within him. He found himself savouring the sound of her voice.

"It wouldn't have been possible without your imagination."

In that fleeting moment, amidst their shared creation, the boundaries of their partnership blurred, leaving behind an unspoken connection that had blossomed over the weeks.

Yet, Miss [y/n] couldn't help but remind herself of their surroundings — her family lingered just steps away from the library door. While her brother had granted Mr Bridgerton a private moment with her, she knew it couldn't last. Any inklings of confusion she harboured were futile — for both the present moment and the gentleman. What right did she have to entertain thoughts beyond their professional collaboration with the second son of a Viscount?

"Well, then it's settled. The work, I mean," Miss [y/n] remarked, stepping away from Benedict to steady her racing heart. "I can deliver the drawings to Mr Brendy this evening."

"You're not considering going alone, are you?" Benedict interjected, his concern evident as he recalled the less savoury district where Mr Brendy's office was situated.

"Don't be ridiculous; I've managed perfectly well on my own for the past ten years," she dismissed, brushing off Benedict's worries with a wave of her hand.

The room fell into silence briefly — the space between them filled with unspoken tension.

"You were going there alone as a young girl?" Benedict exclaimed, scandalised, though he didn't wait for her confirmation; he knew it to be true. "You were barely sixteen; you hadn't even made your debut yet."

"I truly hadn't," [y/n] affirmed, the edge in his tone stinging her. She had expected a glimmer of pride when she turned to face him, but instead, she found only frustration. "But don't fret; I've never attracted much notice. You said as much the day we discussed our collaboration, remember?"

"I never said you would go unnoticed," he retorted sharply. "I merely suggested that your alias would likely escape detection, given the assumption that he was a man."

Crossing her arms defensively, [y/n] avoided meeting his gaze.

"And what a fine man I am," she sighed, recalling his earlier words.

Benedict fought the urge to curse and vent his frustration; he was a guest in this house, and [y/n] deserved his respect.

How often, before, had he teetered on the edge of propriety since they embarked on this clandestine venture? How often had he seen her frown, longed to soothe her with a kiss to her forehead, or caught her smiling at his drawings and yearned to have her? Yet, he had restrained himself, for she was a lady — unfortunate in her circumstances, perhaps, but her last name was still of great esteem.

However fortunate or unfortunate the timing, before Benedict could utter any truths and [y/n] could voice any lamentations, they were interrupted by the abrupt entrance of [y/n]'s brother, Mr. [y/l/n], poised to catch them in a compromising situation.

Mr. [y/l/n] found himself perplexed by the scene that greeted him: his sister's furrowed brow and the gentleman's evident frustration. But he did not need to comprehend; he simply interjected. A man deeply fond of his sister, likely due to the considerable time they spent in each other's company, Mr [y/l/n] couldn't help but dote on [y/n]. While their elder sister had already embarked on married life and motherhood, [y/n] remained steadfast in the [y/l/n] household, deemed a spinster by society's standards.

"My apologies for the interruption," he offered, though he harboured no remorse. "What's the discussion?"

Spotting [y/n]'s discomfort in her brother's presence, Benedict seized the opportunity to assert himself. "I've just invited your sister to accompany me to Lady Danbury's ball this evening."

The lady's brother was confused. "Will she have a second dance in the same season?"

"Lady Danbury has her own set of rules, dear brother," [y/n] retorted, finally speaking up to defend the unconventional elderly lady.

"Ah, indeed," her brother chuckled, recalling how Lady Danbury's unconventional ways had led him to his current wife. "But, little sister, did you accept?"

Benedict turned to [y/n], a defiant gleam in his eye, silently daring her to refute his claim, to hide behind the facade he presumed she wore.

"I accepted, naturally," [y/n] replied with a mischievous smile, her gaze fixed squarely on Benedict as she addressed her brother. "I'm honored by the invitation."

"Ah, splendid," Mr. [y/l/n] nodded approvingly. Rarely had his sister been extended such an offer. And here was Benedict Bridgerton, his old friend from Eton, one of London's most sought-after bachelors, extending it. The irony was not lost on him. "Bridgerton, my apologies, but I must ask you to take your leave. Family matters require my sister's attention."

"Of course, [y/l/n]. Please, proceed," Benedict acquiesced with a gesture, turning to bid [y/n] a polite farewell. "I'll call for you at seven, Miss."

"I eagerly await it," she responded sharply, immediately regretting her tone. As Benedict exited the room, leaving her alone with her brother, [y/n] braced herself for any further inquiries. "Don't ask," she preempted Mr. [y/l/n].

"I wasn't planning to," he reassured her, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence. "But how did you do it?"

"Oh, shut up," she cursed and left the room.

#benedict bridgerton #Benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x yn #bridgerton #bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton #polin

[coqxettee]

How to romanticise Spring:

Some ideas and things you can do to romanticise the Spring season 🫧˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🧚🏻‍♀️.

Spring Wardrobe - Spring is the perfect time to start integrating new pieces into your wardrobe. Long flowing dresses, maxi skirts, pretty blouses, milkmaid dresses/shirts, rompers, dungarees, mini skirts, cami’s and so much more. Make sure to add a pair of new Spring pumps (Mary janes are perfect) and some pretty floral hair bandanna’s and flower crowns in there too. Pastel pinks, yellows, blues, greens and white fit perfect for this time of year, along with patterns and materials like floral print and lace 🩰

Change your eating habits. Put away the comfort food from winter and indulge in the delicious delicacy’s of Spring. Fresh fruit and vegetables can make endless recipes for Breakfast, Lunch & Dinner, sweet things like Oatmeal, Honey, gelato and any particularly sweet fruits are perfect for this time of year 🍒🥗🍵

Consume Spring media 💐 The media you consume affects your mood, consuming uplifting Spring content will not only make you feel happier in yourself, but will also make you look forward to and romanticise the season more. I have a list of Movies, TV shows & books you can consume in Spring that I will be uploading shortly ☀️

Read Spring books. There are SO many out there, classics are perfect for this time of year but any whimsical, forest-core, fantasy story’s like “The Hobbit” or “The legend of King Arthur” are perfect too 📖

Listen to classical music, movie soundtracks and pretty instrumentals whenever you are doing any of the following activities (I find it helps romanticising a lot! 🎶🌷)

Have a picnic outside - Bring a wicker picnic basket, beautiful picnic blanket, fancy plates and cutlery and have a picnic fit for a countryside princess outside, either at the park or in a field. Wear a big sun hat to keep shaded from the sun and be sure to bring the essentials (Princess picnic food can include miniature sandwiches, scones, cookies, cakes & cupcakes, fruits like strawberries, cherries and apples, any snacks you can think of, lemonade and sweet iced tea) 🌷

Host a Tea Party (either indoors or outside) Set a table with all your finest dinnerware pieces, wear a floaty dress and white gloves, and use your most precious Teapot to pour fruity and sweet flavoured teas into any delicate teacups you can find. You can even make this Bridgerton inspired and have a high-tea esque party. With cookies and strawberry shortcake, cupcakes and miniature sandwiches. Make sure to set the table with a pretty tablecloth, fresh flowers and napkins/fine cutlery for yourself or your guests. Play some classical music and enjoy 🫖

Go berry/fruit picking. This time of year is perfect for Strawberry, Cherry’s & fruit picking in general. Wear a big straw hat, a long dress and don’t forget to bring your basket with you to collect the fruit in 🍓

Visit a flower field 🌸 💐 this time of year, flowers are in full bloom. Wear the most beautiful dress and a flower crown, so you are ready to twirl in the flower fields to your hearts content 🌷

Bake new Spring recipes. There are SO many Spring/Easter baking ideas on Pinterest. Have a look at any and compile a list of Bakes you want to try this Spring season 🍰

Cook new Spring recipes, you can even incorporate any new foods you have tried into the recipes and be sure to write them down in your recipe book 🥧

Make flower crowns! You can use fresh flowers or fake flowers, some wire or plain headbands. Get creative with them, use flowers, gems, lace, ribbon (this is a lovely activity to do with friends outside) 🌸

Press flowers (Such a Spring fairy activity!) any wild flowers you find (preferably dying or damaged) take them home and press them in a heavy book

Go on Forest Fairy walks. Explore your local forests, parks, meadows in the most vibrant green and pink dresses, wear flower crowns and just be one with nature, listen to fairytale music and take in the wildlife and nature around you 🧚‍♀️

Decorate your bedroom/space for Spring. This can be as simple as changing the bedding or by going all out and re-decorating your room completely. Fresh flowers, fake plants, cottage-core illustrations of animals look lovely too 🌷

Celebrate Easter like a Spring princess (really get into it this year) enjoy a beautiful Spring breakfast, paint eggs, eat chocolate, do some Easter bakes in the kitchen, make Easter Sunday a special day for you 🐣

Journal/Sketch/Paint - Painting outside is one of my favourite things to do, and you could even set up your easel/painting supplies in a garden or local field and paint the scenery 💐 Journalling all about your pretty Spring days can be uplifting and I find that sketching illustrations of Flowers, woodland animals and just Nature in general makes me feel so at ease any time I do so 🦢

Visit historical places like castles, botanical gardens and garden centres. These places are always abloom in Spring. Most of these places offer café’s and afternoon tea’s too! 🌸

Visit a cute Café for afternoon tea 🫖 (Make sure to wear a pretty outfit!)

Go frolicking in meadows. Roll down hills and twirl in flower fields 🌼

Feed birds and take time out to Spend time with nature and wildlife 🐰

I hope this helped and gave you some ideas, made you feel happy or comforted whilst reading and most importantly, inspired you to live life to the fullest and most beautiful it can be this Springtime 💐📖🎀 All my love ~ Kellen

#coquette #coquette aesthetic #lana del rey #baby pink #girly aesthetic #girly pink #girly #girly girl #girly kei #girly stuff #spring aesthetic #spring girl #springtime #spring #easter

[calirph]

𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐒 & 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒.

First part of these quotes have been taken from the clips and trailers of bridgerton season three while the other part are taken from books with similar protagonists as penelope as well energy, meaning, some of this quotes are a bit suggestive and spicy on the realm of regency/period drama so beware. Change names, pronouns, and locations as you see fit.

I cannot live at home any longer.

I must take a husband.

Does my lady have a suitor in mind?

Brother, under what foreign sun did you apparently get so sturdy?

It seems as though every Bridgerton was born to attract notice.

For some of us the notice is very slight.

If a husband is what you seek, let me help you. Are we not friends?

I should like to see your skills as they are first.

How delightful to see you all.

I would not be angry if you found me to be a lost cause.

You must not say such things.

She's not seeking a husband in you, I hope.

No, I'm merely helping her find one.

Since when are you worried about Penelope?

That diamonds are not the only gems that sparkle.

Lord Debling. He is eager to take a wife this season.

You have done very well, Penelope. What more could you want?

Mother, do you believe the best foundation for love is friendship?

It is rare, but you must follow your heart.

What is the primary force that guides us along our paths? Is it our minds or our hearts?

Do you not need a chaperone?

I am in my third year on the marriage mart with no prospects to show for it. What would you call that?

Something wrong, Pen? Between us, I mean.

If you are going to make me say it out loud...I miss you.

You miss me, but you would never court me, is that correct?

I... -I overheard you...at my Mama's ball last season… telling everyone how you would never, ever court Penelope Featherington.

Perhaps we should go where there's somewhere more private.

Of course, you would never court me.

I am the laughingstock of the ton, even when I change my entire wardrobe.

Your eyes…A most remarkable shade of blue. And yet somehow, they shine even brighter when you are kind.

I'd m-- I might say something like that if you were a suitor.

Well, that was rather direct.

Brother, I should like a moment alone.

Oh. Dear, is Francesca quite well?

Well, she simply needed a moment. As do I.

I should like to use that moment to dance with my beautiful wife.

Please. Enjoy yourselves.

What is the delay?

You deserve better than a man who requires reforming.

It was much less frustrating being the pursued rather than the pursuer.

Kisses should not leave you satisfied. They should leave you wanting.

I've spent twenty-eight years doing what everyone around me expected me to do...being what everyone around me has expected me to be. And it's horrid to be someone else's vision of yourself.

Shall I tell you what I would do if I discovered I'd been a royal ass and had lost the only woman I'd ever really wanted?

You just impugned the honor of my future marchioness. Choose your seconds. I will see you at dawn.

If you intend to keep me from her, you had better have an army at your side.

What if I want the rogue, Gabriel?

Take me to bed, Gabriel. Give me a taste of scandal.

I think it's time to try riding astride.

If I am an empress, he is the only man worthy of being my emperor.

She must be a very talented courtesan.

How very fascinating. I’ve never met a courtesan, you know.

My choices are rather limited.

Shall we seal it with a kiss, then?

You see, when I agree to something, I do it wholeheartedly. That was not the kiss for which you came, little mouse.

The same cage as hers merely a different gilt.

For your beauty has quite ruined me for all others.

This gown is sinful.

So passionate, So eager. Open for me.

You know, Empress, men do not appreciate laughter at this particular moment. It's devastating to the self-confidence.

I agreed to remain, my lord. Not to remain silent.

Look at me, Empress. I want to see you come undone. I want to watch you go over the edge with me.

I'm not lovely.

There is nothing plain about you.

You're enjoying my discomfort.

How am I different?

Selene is not the happiest of stories. After all, she is doomed to love a mortal in eternal sleep.

You are my gift. I shall unwrap you.

Are you aching for me here?

You know exactly what you want, despite never having had it before.

That is the thing about monsters, Pettypeace. They are monsters because they can delude people into believing they aren’t.

She is not plain. She is extraordinary.

You are clearly suffering a visual disorder of some kind. Perhaps you and Jane should wear matching spectacles.

Sentimental novels are my favorite, though I’m not supposed to say so.

#meme #roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. ) #rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #◟ ⋆ memes › roleplay sources. #bridgerton meme #polin meme #romancing mr bridgerton meme

[suguwu]

The bridgerton!stsg your engagement ring is yours and Satoru's birthstones with Suguru's being set in the band descending from the main setting. You mainly wear shades of blue, like Satoru's house colors but your outerwear is often dark shades of purple. The pearls you wear are white and black - the lovers eye necklace is an eye that it definitely not your husband's distinct blue but if you look at Satoru's hands there might be a matching eye on a thick band on his right hand.

People are also shocked by the lack of staff at the Gojo estate, a small but efficient force. It's mainly because they won't comment on how Suguru hasn't stayed in the guest wing in years and has the room across from the couples suite - or how the bed in that room hasn't been slept in in a long while (even since before you were married)

Sorry I had a thought of making bridgerton!stsg more gay and also in love with reader and each other

ooooh yes i love all of this! especially the bit about the lovers eye necklace and rings bc oof that would be so obvious. but perfect for them.

i did laugh at your idea about the clothing bc we are the same, anon. sometimes you wear things so different from what gojo is wearing, and when you stand next to suguru, it looks like the two of you are married, because your color schemes and clothing match.

i do think that bridgerton!stsg tends towards staying at suguru's estate, instead—it's less obvious, smaller, able to run on a true skeleton staff. the gojo estate is just too big, too centered in society life, not to mention his other family members who live there. the staff are more likely to be in the pocket of satoru's family than his.

suguru's staff, though—they're a loyal bunch. more family than staff, really. there's no mention about how the bed in the guest wing never needs to be made in the morning or that they wear matching pocketwatches. and when you arrive, there's no mention of how suguru's sheets smell of you. how satoru leaves you alone in the estate for days at a time, sometimes. except you're not alone—you're with suguru.

either way bridgerton!stsg are very much in love with you and each other, no questions asked. they're just. not normal about it.

#🪴.ask #anon #bridgerton!stsg

[your3fundamentaltruths]

2 Years of turn around, bright eyes!

Thank you SO much to everyone who has read, commented on, and otherwise engaged with turn around, bright eyes! It has been quite the ride to plot out and write and I've loved hearing your thoughts and theories and been made to blush by your exceedingly kind words. Thank you for sticking with me!

Since I did not get a new chapter ready in time for the actual anniversary date on April 15th, I'm dropping a flashback from an upcoming chapter.

Without further ado . . .

He is eight when baby Colin’s arrival on a blustery January morning makes him an eldest – rather than merely elder – brother. 

The last night it would only be they two Bridgerton boys, Benedict sneaks into his room and stays through the night. They sleep top and tail, fitfully, until tiredness overtakes even their unease at hearing their mother’s cries of pain as she struggles to bring their new sibling into the world. 

Early the next morning, as the light of dawn begins to peek through his curtains, Anthony awakens to find their father hovering over his bed, a bundle of blankets in his arms that cannot be anything other than the new baby.

“Good morning, Anthony,” says Papa in a scratchy voice as Benedict slowly stirs to wakefulness. 

“Morning,” he mumbles. “May I see?”

“Once Benedict budges up, I’ll sit.”

He kicks his younger brother in the shin, which wakes him up properly. 

Benedict scowls at him, but he mirrors his stance, sitting up to make room for Papa and – 

“This is your brother,” Papa says softly once he’s settled down between them, the baby cradled gently in his arms. “Colin.”

Two children whose names start with A for the elder and B for the younger might be a coincidence; choosing a name beginning with C for the third officially makes it a pattern. Nose crinkling, he tilts his head in question. 

Papa grins. “Your mama insisted.”

“Mm,” he murmurs noncommittally. He would never dream of criticizing Mama, but it’s really rather silly. Oh well. He looks more closely at his new brother. 

He isn’t sure what he expected, precisely, but the baby looks . . . like a baby, with chubby pink cheeks and a little fuzz of indeterminate color on his head.

Papa laughs when he makes that observation aloud. “He’ll grow into himself eventually and we’ll get to know him and his personality properly. Give it some time.”

“His eyes are like mine,” Benedict says smugly when their new brother blinks open his eyes for a few moments. 

He frowns; Benedict isn’t quite right (the baby’s eyes are a much darker shade of blue) but they are blue, so he is – and it seems will continue to be – the odd one out with his dark, dark eyes. “No, they’re not –”

“Either way, they might well change,” Father interrupts, well-practiced at defusing their disputes. “Babies’ eyes often do.”

(Colin’s will not. They stay the same dark blue he entered the world with, the same dark blue with which Eloise, Francesca, and eventually Hyacinth will all be born – their mother’s dark blue. 

Only when Gregory comes along will one of his younger siblings finally share his eye color.)

Papa clears his throat. “You are both big brothers now. That is a very serious thing. You will need to teach him everything you know and guide him so that he grows to be a good, kind boy as I try to teach you to be.”

He and Benedict exchange solemn looks, their fingers ghosting over the edge of the blanket and not quite touching their baby brother’s tiny fingers; they can sense at least some of the import of Papa’s statement based on his tone, before turning to Papa and nodding seriously.

“We will,” he says fiercely – if quietly, so as not to startle baby Colin, who startles him by wrapping his little fist around his index finger.

And stealing his heart.

For as long as he can remember, Benedict has been his best friend and his partner in crime, but he knows in that moment that Colin will be something entirely different.

(He does not know then that it will be Colin with whom he makes nearly all his worst mistakes as a brother.)

#bridgerton #bridgerton fic #colin bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #edmund bridgerton #turn around bright eyes #my fic