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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 1 month

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Enchanted to Meet You - Colin Bridgerton

A/N: I am so hype for the new season, and Colin isn't even my favorite Bridgerton sibling. When I was thinking of who should get Enchanted, I knew the story had to happen at a beautiful ball, so really this was one of the only choices. (There may be more Enchanted inspired fics, who's to say!) Hope you enjoy!

TS Prompt #6: Enchanted

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Reader Word Count: 3.0k Synopsis: After years of knowing, and not liking each other, Colin and the reader meet again at a ball, and share a magical evening together.

"Isn't that your second glass?" Eloise asks, a glass of champagne in her own gloved hand.

"No. It's my third," you say. She doesn't even try to hide the un-ladylike snort she lets out.

"I thought your mother said one."

"She did," you say, peering about the crowded ballroom for her deep red dress. "But, as this is my third ball of the season, I thought it only fitting."

"I'm sure she'll see it that way, too," Eloise says sarcastically.

It was true, this was your third ball, but the three glasses of champagne didn't really have anything to do with that. The matching numbers did add some kind of magic to the night, but truly, you just needed them to get through the evening.

It was your first year out, and after three balls, you weren't sure you would ever find someone to marry. It wasn't like you hadn't had callers. You had blossomed in the last year. So much so, that people often did a double take when they looked upon you. It wasn't so much that they weren't interested in you, but that you weren't in them.

This evening was looking to be another night of forcing laughter and faking smiles with men you had no interest in. The thought of another glass of champagne was too enthralling.

"I don't believe it," Eloise says, leaving your side. You watch her nearly run across the ballroom, and run into the arms of a man. When they break away, you see it is Colin, returned from his travels around the world.

It is hard to believe, but he has become more handsome, in his travels. You spent years and years at the Bridgerton household, and never found Colin anything other than annoying. He was the brother closest in age to Eloise, and he spent most of his time picking on the two of you.

But walking towards you now is a man. A very handsome man, whose smile seems to make your insides melt. You think you might melt, too, as he walks up to you.

"Have we met?" he says, taking your hand in his.

"Are you joking?" you ask, watching as he places a soft kiss to your gloved hand. "Colin, it's me."

"Y/N?" he asks quietly, his brow furrowed as he studies your face.

"Of course it's Y/N, you idiot," Eloise says, slapping his arm.

"You . . . you look completely different," he says.

"Bad different?"

"No, no, not bad at all," he says. He stares at you for a moment longer, seemingly speechless.

"Oh cut it out, will you?" Eloise says, "Both of you are staring like you've never seen the other before."

"Well, he looks different, too," you say, "A good different," you add, looking to him. He smiles, his mouth turned up to one end in playful amusement.

"Eloise, I hope you do not mind if I ask Miss Y/L/N to dance," he says. Eloise begins to say she does mind, but your mind is only on Colin as you drop your hand into his.

You are trembling as he leads you out onto the dancefloor. You have danced this dance hundreds of times before, and have done so to this exact song at the previous two balls. But now, the man in front of you is Colin, and that makes it completely new.

When he pulls you into his arms, your chests a touch closer than societally acceptable, you aren't breathing.

"Hello," he says softly.

"Hello," you say, as the music begins around you. Your moves are instinctual, as you let him lead you into the dance. He is still studying you, his eyes on every angle of your face. You laugh at his ministrations.

"What?" he asks.

"You act as if you don't know me."

"Well, I don't."

"I've spent nearly every summer at the Bridgerton household."

"No, that was Eloise's annoying childhood friend, that wasn't you," he says, his eyes locking on yours.

"Well, it has been a while since we've seen each other. And I have changed."

"I can tell," he says deeply. Goosebumps appear along your neck, and you watch his eyes track them.

"You've changed, too," you say, "Traveling agrees with you."

"Thank you," he says. He spins you out of his arms and back in. "How are you enjoying your first season?"

"Truthfully, it has been pretty boring so far."

"Boring?" he asks in surprise. "Don't tell me you've been a wallflower."

"Oh, on the contrary, everyone seems to notice how much I've changed," you say with a grin, making him laugh, "It's just, I haven't found their company as agreeable."

"And how about my company?" he asks, his voice quiet again.

"I'm not sure yet," you say thoughtfully, studying his face. "But so far, you are certainly a far better dancer than any of the other men I've danced with."

"Really? I'm honored."

The music comes to an end, and both of your hands linger for a moment longer on the other. The dancefloor starts to shift as couples enter and leave. You are supposed to be dancing with Lord Charmbord for the polka.

"Care to have some more fun?" Colin asks.

"What?"

"If you don't mind leaving Lord . . ." he trails off as he touches your wrist again, glancing at your dance card. "Lord Charmbord in the lurch, I'd be happy to prove that my company is much more enjoyable," he says. There is mischief in his eyes, and you know you will go wherever he wants you to.

"Where to?" you ask.

"Meet me at the fork in the gardens," he whispers in your ear, as he walks past you casually. Again, the goosebumps appear.

You walk off the dancefloor, keeping your head down so that no one, especially Lord Charmbord or your mother, see you slip out onto the terrace.

There are a few couples lingering out on the balcony, but they are too involved in their conversations to notice you move down the steps to the garden. You move silently as you look around for Colin, or anyone else.

Scandal would be sure to follow you if anyone were to catch you out here, but you can't bring yourself to care right now. This is the first time all season that you have felt anything, and you aren't going to let it go.

As you round a bend in the gardens, hands grab your waist and you nearly scream out. Quickly, though, Colin turns you around and reveals himself. You clutch a hand to your pounding heart.

"You frightened me," you say.

"I'm sorry," he says, laughter still in his eyes.

"No, you aren't," you say with a laugh.

"No, I'm not. But I am glad you met me here."

"Well, I was promised good company,” you say. Colin straightens, a smirk on his face, as he extends his arm to you.

“A promise I intend to make good on.” He leads you deeper into the maze like garden, as if he has explored it before. Before you can ask, he says, "You know, I used to play with the lord's son when we were kids. He knew where all of the hiding spots were in here, and challenged me to hunt him down. It took a few years, but I was eventually able to find all of his spots, and a few of my own."

"So if I asked you to hide right now . . ."

"You would not find me."

"You assume so little about my seeking skills?" you joke.

"No, just that my hiding ones are much more polished."

"Ah. Well, I should hate for us to have to split up, anyhow."

"As would I. You know, I still can't truly believe that you're you."

"I really haven't change, Mr. Bridgerton," you say.

"No?" he asks, looking you over thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps I have."

"You have."

"How so?" he asks, a small smile on his face. You look him over for a long moment before smiling back.

"You've gotten taller," you say. Colin lets out a tut of laughter.

"Indeed."

"But, I'm sure it's also your travels that are to blame for the man I met tonight."

"I would agree with that estimate," he says, "I learned a lot during my journeys that I am not sure I would have ever discovered at home."

"I can't help but feel envious," you say, "I've always wanted to travel, too."

"Really? Where to?" he asks.

"Anywhere, truthfully. But I've always been fascinated by Florence."

"It is truly gorgeous," he says with a nod.

"You've been?"

"I have. They have absolutely the best food of any of the places I've been. But what's more is they even have the best dances."

"The best dances?"

"Yes, they've taken our plain old quadrille and changed it into something magical," he says. He seems to notice the excitement in your eyes, because his smile only grows. "I couldn't help but notice that you're an accomplished dancer."

"Oh, please," you say, self-depreciatingly, "I'm passable, but certainly wouldn't call myself accomplished."

"I had no complaints," he says softly. He waits for you to give him a smile before continuing. "And if you spent one day in Florence, I know you would out dance every woman in there."

"They are truly that good?" you ask.

"Would you like me to show you?" he asks. He has come to a stop in the center of the gardens. A large fountain trickles softly behind him, the air moist with the shooting spouts. You study him for a moment, waiting for him to say he was joking, to turn back to the Colin you had known.

"Are you serious?" you ask.

"Of course," he says, holding out his hand.

"There's no music."

"You don't need to hear the music to feel it," he says, taking your hand in his and pulling you in close. "Just follow along. It's got the same steps as the quadrille you know, but with a little more movement."

You nod your head and focus on the moves. Without music playing, it is a little harder to get into the rhythm, but he is correct, after a few steps, you can feel the music echoing inside of you.

His hand on your waist presses slightly, making your hips move more fluidly. You are certain if anyone were to see, it would mean scandal, but you cannot fight the smile growing on your face. Again, he shows you how to add more movement into a step, bringing the two of you closer again.

You have danced through one whole song in your head, and you don't want to stop anytime soon. Never in your life before have you danced like this. You feel so free, so graceful. And it is at this feeling, that you trip on an upturned stone and crash into Colin's arms.

The music has stopped playing in your mind. There is only the soft sound of water, the trill of crickets, and your pounding heart.

You have never been this close to a man. Your chest is flush against his. You can feel his breath, and watch as he looks down, too, at your bodies pressed together.

His eyes catch yours and everything seems to slow. There is only his warm brown eyes, locked onto your own, and the hand on your back that moves softly, comfortingly.

"Colin," you whisper. He smiles widely.

"I like when you say my name."

"I've said it a million times before," you say with a laugh.

"You've never said it like that."

"We should be heading back," you say. The hand on your back grows firmer, like he would do anything to keep you against him.

"No one knows we're out here," he says.

"My mother will come looking soon."

"Y/N," he whispers, his head ducking so that his words dance over your neck. You shiver slightly, and his smile only grows.

"I see what you mean," you say, looking back up at him, "I like the way you say my name, too." The look on his face is purely prideful.

"Don't go back inside," he says.

"We'll both be ruined."

"What if I don't care?" he asks.

"You do care," you say gently, "And so do I."

"Perhaps you're right."

"I am right, Colin," you say, beginning to pull away. He pulls you back in and your lips are a breath from his. His eyes flicker between your own and your lips, that are practically begging to be kissed. Your eyes close, against your better instinct, and you lean in.

Snap!

In an impossibly quick moment, Colin has pushed you out of his arms and ducked into an alcove of the garden. You wait for someone to appear, for your reputation to be ruined, but no one comes. Another minute passes and Colin comes out.

"Perhaps, you should get back inside, Y/N."

"Where did you run off to?" you ask, jumping again at his appearance. Before he can answer, you sigh. "Right," you say with a laugh.

"Let's get you back inside," he says. "That was too close."

Colin does get you back into the ball without scandal falling on you.

When you find your mother again, her face is nearly as red as her dress. Clearly, she has not followed her own rule regarding glasses of champagne. She says that Lord Charmbord had been searching for you, but you can't even begin to pretend to care.

For the rest of the ball, your eyes are always on Colin. Unfortunately, you don't get to spend any more of the evening with him. The closest you get is a moment on the dancefloor where you briefly switch partners.

His hand meets yours at the same time his eyes do, and once again, the world around you is gone. There is only the music and his face, looking at you in a way you can't precisely name, but that you're dying to know.

But just as soon as it happens, it is over, and you are back in the arms of a man you have absolutely no interest in.

As the night comes to a close, you bid Eloise and Lady Bridgerton goodnight. You can't help peering around the both of them for Colin, but just when it appears he is not coming and you have turned towards the exit, he calls your name.

"Miss Y/L/N," he says dashingly, "I would be remiss if I didn't bid you a goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton," you say, watching as he bends down to kiss your hand. Quietly, so that only you can hear, he says, "Say it just once more, please."

"Goodnight, Colin," you whisper. When he stands up straight, he is fighting off a smile. He bids your mother goodbye, and then you are getting handed off into your carriage, and ripped away from what feels like the first real night of your life.

The ride home is quiet. You answer your mother's few questions, but when she can see you're in no mood to talk, she sinks into her own thoughts.

The countryside is dark, but as you look out upon it, you can't help but wish. Wish that this was the very first page of your story with Colin, not where your story line will end. That he was as enchanted by you as much as you were by him. And pray that he is not in love with someone else.

At home, when you finally get into bed, you are restless. You toss and turn well into the early hours, questions rolling about your mind, all about Colin.

Too early the next morning, you are awoken by a lady's maid. The day after a ball is always busy. Gentleman callers all morning, and mothers and daughters in the afternoon, to get caught up on the morning callers.

While your handmaidens go about getting you dressed and pinning your hair up, you can't help but relieve the night before. It sparkles in your mind - truly the most perfect night you could have imagined.

You pray that it is not the last, but you know that you have to remain practical. Besides the looks and smiles he gave you, Colin did not lead on that he was interested in marriage anytime soon. You, on the other hand, were very interested in getting wed off this season.

As you walk down the steps to your sitting room, you assure yourself that it will be okay, if Colin does not feel the same.

"It is too early for callers!"

At the foot of the stairs, you hear your doorman arguing in hushed tones. You can hear another voice, but not clearly enough to match the sound to its owner. Before you can open the door and find out, your mother comes bustling down the staircase and passes you.

"Who could it be at this hour!" she says, ripping open the door.

Colin Bridgerton is standing in your doorway, a bouquet of orange tulips in hand. His eyes are wide when they circle to meet yours, but then they soften.

"Y/N," he says gently. The doorman stutters a response at this lack of formality, so Colin corrects himself. "I mean, Miss Y/L/N. Mrs. Y/L/N," he says, turning to look at your mother.

"I apologize for the early arrival, but I wanted to be the first here," he says.

"The first here for what?" your mother asks in shock.

"To call upon Miss Y/L/N, of course. You see, I shared quite an exquisite time with her last night, and hope that I may spend more time in her good company."

"Really?" you and your mother ask in unison. You laugh, and feeling bold, walk towards Colin. Still keeping a respectful distance from him, knowing that your doorman was watching closely, you take the tulips from him.

"Really," he says. "I was enchanted to meet you again, Y/N. Please don't have someone waiting on you."

"Not at all," you say. "Would you like to come in for tea, Colin?"

"I would love to," he says with a grin that nearly takes your breath away.

#colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton imagine #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #ts prompts #colin bridgerton fanfic #colin bridgerton fanfiction

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daisydaisybilly · 1 year

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when all i want is you | part two | c.b

pairing: Colin Bridgeton x gn!reader

summary: you and Colin now married spend a day in Italy

warnings: just fluff

word count: 500 ish

a/n: this took an embarrassing amount of time to write but I finally felt like writing so here! This is kinda short, I wanted to keep it happy but might revisit one day. This is also the third day of uploading in a row, will it continue or will I not write for the rest of the year?

requested@helen06dreamer: Hello! Can you please give us a second part at the 'when all u want is you'? Please 🥺

You can find part one here

The smell of fresh bread filled the small room in Italy, they sighed a breath of comfort pulling the bed covers around them as they sat up in bed. Beside them, Colin was still fast asleep, his back bathing in the warm morning air.

Tiptoeing they moved across the room, throwing on a dressing gown and stepping out onto the balcony. Below them most of the local people and tourists were already going about their days. The ring on their left hand glittered in the sunlight.

“I’ll get you a better one once we return to London” Colin said from behind them, he wrapped his arms around their waist and rested his head on their shoulder.

Still holding their hand out they exhaled, “I can’t imagine there ever being a better ring than this”,leaning back in his chest.

The wedding was perfect even if it was just the two of them, the vicar and two local people to bear witness, it was nothing like the rich and lavish weddings the upper circle of London had. But to them both it was the finest wedding anyone living and dead had ever had.

He held his new spouse and rocked them, “what do you say to visiting the Tower of Pisa?”. They turned to face him and kissed his cheek.

“We should bring a picnic, like we would in Hyde park”

Colin held onto their hand the whole way, growing tighter as the crowds grew. It was truly a beautiful day. Many people, tourists and locals had also chosen that day to visit the Tower of Pisa.

Colin laid the blanket onto the floor and helped them sit down, a smirk rose. “I could get used to this treatment”. Colin kissed them, a rush went through them. The freedom to kiss him without worry was intoxicating.

“Wait until we return to London” he said, laying down with his head in their lap. They went on to play with his brown hair.

“How will we even explain? Both our families would have the news by now.” They said worriedly.

“We’re married now and that can’t be undone. Certainly not after last night” he laughed. They laughed too, playfully hitting his chest.

“We ran away. I was my Aunt's heir and you’re a Bridgeton! The rumours will be impossible to escape” they said.

“So we never return?” He asked.

“Even if we don’t they would just find us” they sighed. He sat up and kissed them again.

“What about a life on the run? We changed our names and live free?”

They raised their eyebrows, “neither of us can live without our comforts. Sallow as it is, I like my life and I don’t want to live anything else”.

He put himself back into their lap, “thank god. I regretted the words the moment I spoke them” he smiled shyly.

“What would life be like then? Back in London” you asked.

“Our own home, we could stay in the summer house” Colin suggested. “Parties every week, tea on the lawn, days in bed without a care in the world”.

“Summer tours each year” you grinned.

“So much to see so much time”.

“And I get to spend it all with you, what could be more perfect?”.

#colin bridgerton #Colin bridgerton fanfic #Colin bridgerton fanfiction #Colin bridgerton x reader #Colin bridgerton x yn #Colin bridgerton x you #Colin bridgerton x gn!reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #Colin x reader #Colin x yn #gn!reader #fluff #bridgerton fluff

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iliveiloveiwrite · 2 years

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Baby Makes Three // C.B.

Request: hello and congratulations on 7k followers!! 🥳🥳 could i please request “i didn't want to tell you until i was sure, but... i'm pregnant.“ from the sacred romantic moments prompts for colin bridgerton? thank you so so much!!! 💗💗 - @flowercrowns-goodvibes

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, and for being so patient with me!

Warnings: pregnancy, female reader, mentions of children and babies, female typical titles, established relationship, married couple, lots of fluff - so much fluff, dialogue heavy, a mention of alcohol, humour

Word count: 1063

There were many words that Colin Bridgerton could use to describe himself: funny, handsome, adventurous. However, the one he uses the most right now is: content.

He’s content in every factor of his life. His family are all happy in their individual ways; his mother filling the role of the adoring and devoted grandmother as if she were made for it, and his siblings carving out their own path for themselves as he did for himself shortly before he met you.

Colin was most content when he was with you. There were no pretences, no falsities. With you, he could be the version of himself that he liked the most, and that was what counted to him.

It was this version of himself that had him stopping at the florist, putting together a bouquet of your favourite flowers that were in bloom. Colin would be the first to admit that he was over heels in love with you. Married for just under a year, Colin’s heart still raced when his eyes landed on you every morning, stupefied at the fact that he gets to spend an eternity by your side. Loving you, holding you, being there for you – a finer purpose he could not find on this earth.

With the finest flowers in all of London in hand, Colin continues his walk back to the home he shares with you. He hadn’t wanted to leave you since you weren’t feeling too well – nauseous and dizzy - but had some pressing matters at his publishers that could not go unattended to. Colin could only be relieved when the matters didn’t take too long to resolve.

His contentment quickly turns to worry as he spies a carriage pulling away from the curb outside of the home he shares with you. Bouquet gripped tightly in his hand, Colin presses forward, all but running to his front door.

The house is silent upon his entry. He drops the flowers onto the entryway table, not giving them a second thought as he takes the stairs two at a time to the bedroom where he knows you’ll be.

Colin refuses to think. He doesn’t want to think of the countless reasons for Dr. Ward’s visit. Colin could only kick himself for leaving you this morning; he should have argued more, but the reassuring kiss you had given him had fooled him into think that you were alright, that nothing was wrong more than an upset stomach that could have a thousand causes.

“Darling?” Colin calls, his tone giving away his concern. “I’ve just seen Dr. Ward leave in his carriage. Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

You greet your beloved husband with a small smile, not missing the worried look in his eye. Coming forward to meet him, you press a hand to his cheek, your thumb across his cheekbone in a comforting motion. “Take a breath, my love. Everything’s fine… I think.”

“You think?”

“It all depends on your reaction if truth be told.”

“I need you to tell me now before my mind starts conjuring up the worst ideas imaginable.”

You take a deep breath, holding the blue-eyed stare of the man you so wholly adore with every fibre of your being. “I didn't want to tell you until I was sure, but... I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” Colin repeats, his legs giving out from under him as he sits back onto the bed. “You’re sure?”

You nod, a hand slipping down to cradle the bottom of your torso. “Very sure. Dr. Ward checked everything twice.”

“But how?” Colin murmurs, more to himself than to you.

“Colin Bridgerton!” You gasp, a laugh escaping you. “If you want the finer details of such an act, you can go and offer the good doctor some whiskey!”

A startled laugh leaves Colin before that laugh turns into something greater. Unadulterated joy seeps through him filling every single nook and cranny until there’s room for no more. “I’m going to be a father!” He crows, rushing to his feet. “I’m going to be a dad.”

“You’re not upset?” You ask somewhat timidly.

“Why on earth would you think I’d be upset?”

You begin to pace back and forth, wringing your fingers together as you start to explain. “We haven’t been married long, Colin. Barely a year. We’d never truly discussed the idea of children; we just knew that they would happen one day. I wasn’t sure whether you wanted to wait a while before we began trying for children, and I didn’t know whether I wanted to simply enjoy my time with you before we needed to start thinking of children.” You take a deep breath, steadying yourself, “But here we are.”

“Here we are,” Colin whispers, mystified as he takes sight of the barely there bump. “We’re going to parents, darling.”

“In five short months, we are.”

“You’re already that far along?”

“So it seems,” You smile, a breathy laugh leaving you as your hand flattens against your stomach. “Do you want to feel?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Colin states in a single rushed breath, dropping to his knees before you as he gently places a hand to your lower stomach, feeling the small bump that has only just begun to show. “You and me and baby make three,” Colin whispers, his nose pressing to thin fabric of your dress.

Colin pulls away, tears lining his eyes as he takes in the news of the morning. He’s much relieved to see tears shining in your eyes when he gathers the courage to meet your stare. “I never knew I could feel so happy,” Colin whispers, coming to his feet and gathering you in his arms. “I thought I’d reached the peak of my happiness on our wedding day, but here I am, being proven wrong, and I couldn’t be more grateful.”

“Oh Colin,” You sniff, hiding your face in his chest. “You always know exactly what to say.”

Colin chuckles. His arms wrap around you tighter; rocking you both slightly from side to side as you press your face into his chest. Colin Bridgerton could use many words to describe himself; content had been the latest and the most accurate to date. However, after the news of the morning, and the feel of the love of his life in his arms, he feels that the word ‘elated’ holds much more significance.

********

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @sexysirius @wallwriterstuff @magicallovdrms @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley @spideysz @iammirrorball @joyfullymulti @nuttytani @freyathehuntress @odetostep @pinkcloxds @lovesanimals0000 @flourishandblotts-inc @blankspaceblankday

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pixiemunsons · 2 years

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eyes, wide open (part two to hidden in plain sight) (ab)

out in the open now, you wonder what they'll all think

a/n; sorry this took so long! i loved the characters and while short, this felt like the most natural end for their story for now. maybe i'll add some little drabbles about their married life together at some point, but for now, thank u<3

mentions of pregnancy, benedict is cute cute lov him<3, daphne is a bitch w good intentions

@owlsofthenight

this was, potentially, the best and worst idea the two of you had ever had.

after you’d agreed to marry him, anthony had jumped up immediately and begun pulling his clothes on. not that you weren’t happy to lie there and appreciate the way his muscles were flexing as he worked his way back into his shirt, but when the two of you were alone he usually took full advantage. he turned to meet your eyes, something mischievous living in his own that sent both fear and excitement ripping through your chest.

‘get dressed, my love, we’ve somewhere to be.’

───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───

‘family, i have an announcement to make, and i’d like everyone to sit and listen.’ his voice was booming from the other side of the heavy door, and your heart was hammering deep within your chest. you fiddled with the frilly hem of the new dress anthony had acquired for you on the way back to the house, declaring that he was unwilling to have you dressed as a maid any longer now that you were his wife.

wife.

you almost couldn’t believe it, the word feeling unfamiliar in your mouth as you rolled it over your tongue. you’d rushed out that morning to a waiting carriage, which had swept you away to a church in greenwich. the priest, you imagined, had demanded a sizeable sum for the hurry in which he had been placed, but you knew anthony would have paid it ten times over if he had to. anything to be yours. and with no father present to speak of, you walked yourself down the aisle. the ceremony could have taken five minutes or five hours, you had no idea; you spent the whole thing so wrapped up in your new husband, you almost hadn’t said the vows required of you until the priest repeated himself twice.

‘y/n, could you come in here, please?’ his voice pulled you out of your stupor, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself. instantly, all eyes were on you. how could they not be? you were the last person the family - your family - expected anthony to call in, especially wearing something so elegant. eloise looked baffled if not intrigued, and violet’s expression was one of outright confusion. only one face had any semblance of knowing, and that was benedict’s. he was sporting a small smirk, eyes flitting between the otherwise unnoticed rings adorning yours and anthony’s hands. you should have known he’d tell his younger brother, you supposed. thick as bloody thieves.

‘i have fallen in love.’ the last word was drowned out by the loudest gasp you had ever heard coming from violet’s mouth, and you supposed in any other situation she may have called the way she was fanning herself with her gloved hand ‘unladylike.’

‘and as of this morning,’ he grasped your left hand in his right, ‘y/n and myself are married.’ the chatter that had gripped the room ceased almost instantly, and the last word from his mouth echoed through the high-ceilinged room. every second that passed allowed the icy hand of fear stretching around your heart to tighten more, until you felt like you were going to pass out.

to everyone’s surprise, it was francesca that spoke first. she was a lady of few words, you had come to learn over the years, but every sentence that slipped past her lips was spoken with great importance, as if she had carefully considered it.

‘i, for one, have no objections to my brother being finally happy,’ she declared, bouncing off the chair on which she sat to give anthony a rare hug. tears were welling in his eyes as he rubbed her back, and you remembered something he had told you once, many months ago in the comfort of your bed; fran always knows the right thing to say, because she truly means every word she speaks.

slowly, the rest of the family made their way up to congratulate you both. hyacinth was particularly excited that her ‘most favouritest maid’ was now her sister, and eloise seemed very intrigued by the concept of running off to marry someone, just the two of you. you were sure that had anthony and his mother not been so distracted, they would be chastising her immediately. only violet and daphne were yet to join the celebrations, muttering away to one another rapidly in the corner of the sitting room, and over colin’s shoulder you could see the two of them shooting you furtive glances. you knew that, of them all, anthony and daphne’s connection was strongest. the two had been forced into parental roles upon their father’s death, and out of the ashes had been forged bonds which held them together.

the rest of the family seemed to get the hint, the tense atmosphere felt by everyone and one by one, they all emptied the room, wishing you their final congratulations and leaving just you, violet, daphne and anthony.

‘firstly, my dear, i want you to know that i am absolutely excited for the two of you,’ violet spoke first, and a weight was lifted from your shoulders almost instantly as she took your hand in her own. ‘i could not be more glad that my boy has finally found love.’

‘however,’ daphne said in a slightly sharper tone, one that you had heard her use on eloise, ‘we are concerned about the… circumstances of this arrangement.’ anthony’s head snapped up at his sister, and there was a red bloom creeping up his neck and cheeks.

‘what are you implying, daphne?’ he demanded, and she crossed her arms, rolling her eyes.

‘i am not implying anything, brother. i’m simply asking if this has come around because of a certain… situation.’ you were confused until she gestured at your stomach, and your eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.

‘gosh, no!’ you almost shouted, and every set of eyes in the room was on you. ‘i mean, no. i’m not pregnant. i’ve loved him for a very long time. i would never attempt to push him into an arrangement he was not willing to partake in.’ anthony squeezed your hand, looking down at you adoringly, and daphne could see the way he looked at you; he was so in love, she felt a fool for having never noticed it before. the two of you had never looked so happy. and well, after everything with their father, daphne had resigned herself to never watching anthony be loved.

‘in that case, mother,’ daphne started with a smile, ‘i suppose we had better get the invites out.’

violet frowned, looking over at her eldest daughter. ‘whatever for, dear?’

‘well, for the wedding ball, of course. anthony, you surely didn’t think running off and elope would get you out of that, did you? how does next saturday work for everyone?’

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chelsealorine · 3 months

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Pen calling Colin Mr. Bridgerton. Colin saying he wrote to her and she didn’t respond. Colin saying he misses her. Pen going off and letting him know he hurt her feelings. Now Colin is going to try to make it up to her by helping her gain the confidence she needs to find a husband.

Oh we are going to absolutely EAT this season up.

#bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers #polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #it’s like a fanfic wet dream honestly

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kylopen · 3 months

Text

Yes, My lord?

18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: Brain rotting SMUT, barely any plot, reader is 1 month pregnant (you could probs imagine she is not if you really wanted to) Mentions of body insecurities, super fluffy, Anthony is so whipped for Y/N. Borderline pregnancy/breeding kink? switch reader, switch Anthony. unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it guys.

Summary: Since finding out you are pregnant Anthony simply cannot keep his hands to himself, and when you turn the tables his arousal runs wild.

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton X Reader

Masterlist

Length: 1.8k words

Note: I could NOT get this scenario out of my head, i had to get this written and published *sobs*

----

"That was a rather delightful evening"

You smile as you and Anthony ascend to your bedchamber for the night. The two of you had planned a ball to tell your family and friends the news of your pregnancy. The night was filled with laughs and joy from the family, excited about Anthony's first child with you.

The two of you approach the door and Anthony opens it for you, ushering you inside.

"Indeed, dear wife."

Anthony's eyes crinkle lightly at the sides as he smiles at you, approaching you from behind, fingers expertly undoing your corset. You sigh in relief, goosebumps on your skin at the feeling of release from your day clothes. Turning to face him you also begin to help Anthony from his clothes as he laughs lightly at your eagerness to help him.

Now nude in the middle of the room, Anthony looks you over in the faint candle light, his hand softly moving along the curves of your body. He follows closely behind as you perch yourself at your vanity, ready to take out your elaborate hairstyle. Anthony's hand gently pushes yours away from your head as he begins to take it out for you, looking at you through the mirror. His gaze was intense but loving, his eyes trained thoroughly on your flustered response to the intimate gesture.

"Look at me"

The sentence was commanding but gentle. You lift your eyes and he reaches for the hairbrush just beside you on the table. he begins slowly brushing your hair, gently getting rid of any knots or tangles. Anthony was always a gentle lover, but immediately after finding out you were carrying his child he became dead set on helping you with what he could. His tender nature shining through as he aids you in your bedtime grooming process. The feeling of his hands softly grazing your neck as he brushes has you in a trance, the soothing feeling of knowing you are safe and well taken care of my a man that loves you.

He begins massaging your scalp carefully as you let out a hum of approval. Anthony lets out a quiet laugh as he watches the bliss form on your face.

"I love you, Mr Bridgerton" you tease his formal name.

"Likewise, Mrs Bridgerton, I will love you for the rest of my life"

Butterflies flutter around in your stomach as you realise just how exposed the two of you are. Then it dawns on you, looking down at your puffy stomach, feeling as though you have already gained some baby weight. It had only been a month and you weren't even really showing yet. A flash of insecurity dances across your features at the thought of getting bigger. At this point, the Viscount could read you like a book and he stops his movements in your hair to lean down and kiss your head.

"Speak what is on your mind, my love"

You think for a second before answering.

"...My... Body..." you trail off.

"You are the most beautiful woman i have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. Even more so now you are carrying our child."

You look down and pinch your widened hips, and in response Anthony moves your hand away, caressing you. He then grabs your hand, pulling you up to stand with his chest touching your back.

"There is nothing more appealing to me than my beautiful wife swelling with my seed..." his eyes darken at the thought as he begins to pepper kisses along your jawline and neck, lightly nipping and sucking and you shiver in his arms.

Heat rushes straight to your cheeks and in between your legs as you feel a solid length press against your lower back. You breath out shakily as he presses it harder against your backside.

"Anthony..." You moan softly, bordering a whimper.

The second he hears his name from your lips in such a tone he struggles to hold back, the heat in the room thickening with lust. He pushes you gently onto the bed and settles himself behind you, spooning you. His slightly rough hand glides slowly up and down your side, upper thigh to hip to shoulders. He caresses every part of your body paying extra attention to the parts you were most conscious about. You let out more whimpers from the intimacy of it all, your face feeling incredibly hot and you squirm under the touch. Your thighs squeeze together to relieve yourself in some way, only making Anthony smirk and his touches becoming more daring. His fingertips ghost along your nipples, but fall back down elsewhere on your body.

"Anthony... I am already-" you shudder as he passes by a particularly sensitive spot. "I am already pregnant..."

His laugh rumbles against your back.

"I am aware. That does not mean we cannot enjoy each others bodies hm, dear?" His tone was devilish as his touches become more bold. You flip onto your back and slightly part your legs with a pleading look to Anthony.

"So needy and impatient Viscountess Bridgerton" He tuts with a smirk.

Deciding to take matters into your own hands you launch up, planting yourself on top of him with heated cheeks. If he will be so cruel and tease you even in his aroused state, you would use him yourself. A look of surprise flashes across his face before it grows into an incredibly cocky looking grin. His body betrays him, as his chest rises and falls at a fast pace.

"What is this? darling wife." he cocks his head to the side, the same grin on his face. His eyes hold a fiery hunger.

"It seems, dear husband-" you adjust yourself just enough to tease his length and he softly moans, "That you enjoy your Lady wife taking control" you smirk, a new found confidence flowing through you at the look of your husband from above him.

He grabs your hips with both hands and grinds your core against him.

"My Lord" you moan, breathless, aware of what the title does to him.

"Y/N... I am warning you-" he begins to speak, using your name but you cut him off, pinning his hands above his head.

"Yes, My Lord?" You smirk at him as you lean in close, your lips ghosting his, only to pull away when he goes in for a kiss. You keep one hand holding his up as your other hand begins exploring your husbands chest, teasing him the way he was teasing you. Your finger lightly brushes against his groin before going up to his nipple, softly pinching the bud and a guttural moan escapes his mouth.

"How improper my Lord" you feign a gasp and he lets out a soft chuckle at your words, enjoying the confidence from his beautiful wife. The thrill and excitement from you pinning his hands above his head is almost too much to bare as he gets impossibly harder against your core. He couldn't dare say it aloud but the feeling of being at your mercy, a simple toy to you made his body weak. He could very easily remove his hands from your grasp and the two of you know it, and yet he does not move.

You plant hot, open mouth kisses on his chiseled chest, your arousal already coating his groin. he shudders under your touch and the wet feeling on his lower torso.

"You seem excited my Lord... Has something got you so?" you cock your head to the side, feigning an innocence and he groans at the sight of the same woman he gave her first orgasm to have him completely at her mercy.

"I could ask you the same thing, My dear" His tease came across in gravelly voice that screamed he was ready to take you here and now.

His cock sandwiched firmly between his abdomen and your wet pussy, you begin to rock your hips back and forward, sliding easily. The pressure on your clit had you whimpering and had him moaning in a deep voice.

"You are going to be the death of me" he looks deep into your eyes as you slide him inside you, the two of you moaning at the feeling. The teasing you both had endured was very clearly affecting you both, being incredibly sensitive.

He watches with hooded eyes as you bring your hand to your clit and begin to stimulate yourself. He could have sworn he died that very moment at the sight. It was not long at all until you came, and he relished in the feeling of your cunt throbbing around him.

"Y/N" He moans, moving his hands to your hips, squeezing the soft flesh.

"Do you wish to finish my Lord?" You smile sweetly.

"Yes I do, my dear" His reply full of lust, and a hint of neediness.

"Beg" The sweetness was immediately replaced with cockiness.

The command was simple but powerful as you look into his eyes, holding his jaw with your hand. He felt a shock wave of pleasure shoot through his body.

"Please..." his flustered face was incredibly cute.

"You can do better than that" you move slightly, to tease the feeling.

"Please! Oh god please" you almost came at the sound of his begs.

"You are free to do so... My Lor-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he sat up, you still on his lap and inside him. His hands grasped at your hips as he bucked up into you, his moans coming out as grunts mixed with whines. Hitting up into your g-spot mixed with his needy grunts and thrusts you came again, causing his orgasm to reach its peak, he continues to bounce you on top of him as he spills his seed deep inside of you.

Anthony falls back, his face delirious and euphoric, yours looking similar as you flop down onto his chest, his cock still buried inside you, slowly softening.

Within minutes he snaps out of it, gently pulling you off him, and onto the bed, approaching a second later with a wet towel he opens your legs and cleans you up, slightly smirking at the mess and your flustered face. after cleaning you up he places a soft kiss to your inner thigh and crawls back into bed with you.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and you move your head onto his chest, feeling exhausted. The room was filled with your soft snores in no time at all and he places a kiss on top of your head, a smile on his face as he looks at you.

"I am incredibly lucky to have you, my beautiful wife" he whispers before softly touching your stomach.

"And you too, my beautiful baby"

~End~

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #Anthony Bridgerton x Y/N #plus size reader #x female reader #smut #bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton smut #fanfiction #fanfic

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d-targaryenshoe · 2 months

Text

Once and Forever - Anthony Bridgerton

Word count: 1332

Summary: Not everything is meant to be seen as a duty when one feels different, am i right?

The ballroom of the Bridgerton household was abuzz with activity, as the crème de la crème of society gathered to celebrate the impending union of you and the beloved Anthony Bridgerton.

You were praised as the most enigmatic beauty of the season, your arrival at the ton had been nothing short of legendary.

Rumors swirled of your heritage, your tragic past, and the scandalous circumstances that had brought you to England.

Now, as you took your place at Anthony's side, your every move was scrutinized, your every word analyzed, and every touch felt like a spark igniting a blaze.

Despite your outward appearance of calm, Anthony could feel his heart racing as he looked into your eyes.

He'd never been so torn between his duty and his desires.

On the one hand, he knew that this marriage was the only way to ruin the 'rake' rumors, on the other, he couldn't help but feel an undeniable attraction to you.

He longed to tell you how beautiful you were, how your laughter filled the halls of the house, how your presence lit up the room like the sun on a summer's day.

But he didn't know how.

You, for your part, could feel the tension emanating from Anthony.

You'd thought him arrogant and dismissive at first, but as the night wore on, you found yourself growing more and more confused.

His eyes seemed to bore into your skin as if he were trying to see past your facade and understand the real you.

You wished he would say something, anything, that would put you at ease.

But you knew that your marriage was about more than just your feelings, it was about duty and obligation.

And so, you smiled and laughed and tried your best to fit into the world he'd built for himself.

Yet, you thought that the most thoughtful thing to do was to distance yourself from heartache and a whirlwind of emotions.

And so you did.

You spent your days in solitude, trying to find comfort in the familiarity of your rooms.

The servants, who had once treated you with such admiration and awe, now ignored your presence, as if you were nothing more than another piece of furniture.

You found yourself missing the sound of laughter and music that once filled the halls of the house, but you knew that it was better this way.

Anthony, on the other hand, was a different story.

He seemed to be everywhere you went, always watching you, always studying you.

It was unnerving, to say the least. You wondered if he was trying to find some fault in you, some reason why you shouldn't be together.

Perhaps he was looking for a way out of your arranged marriage.

The thought brought a twinge of sadness to your heart, for you had begun to hope that perhaps, in time, you might find some sort of happiness together.

The servants, too, seemed to be more attentive to him than ever before.

They hovered around him like a cloud of gossipmongers, whispering and giggling whenever he was near.

You couldn't help but feel a stab of jealousy. You wanted to be the one who made him smile, the one who made him forget about everything else.

But you knew that it was not to be. Your marriage was about duty and obligation, nothing more.

One day, as you were wandering the gardens alone, lost in your thoughts, you heard footsteps approaching.

You looked up to see Anthony walking towards you.

His expression was solemn, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and longing.

For a moment, you couldn't breathe. You'd never seen him look at you like that before.

"Y/n," he began, his voice gruff with emotion.

"I... I wanted to apologize for my behavior. For treating you the way I have. I know that I haven't made it easy for you to adjust to life here, and for that, I am truly sorry." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"I want you to know that I did not choose this arrangement lightly. I did it because I believed it was the best thing for my family, and for my siblings who look up to me. I thought it was my duty to protect them."

You looked up at him, your heart racing. His words were like balm to your wounded soul.

"I understand that, Anthony," you said softly.

"And I appreciate your apology. I want you to know that I didn't come here under false pretenses. I know what our marriage is about, and I accept that."

He studied your face for a moment as if searching for some sign of deception.

"You're not just saying that?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "You truly accept it?"

You nodded, your heart swelling with a mixture of affection and understanding.

"Yes, I do. And I want you to know that I'm not angry with you. I understand why you did what you did, and I respect that."

Anthony took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I... I wish things could be different. That we could be different." He hesitated as if searching for the right words. "I want to try, y/n. I want to make this work between us."

"At which moment has there ever been an, us, Anthony?"

His features twisted in thought as if he were trying to understand your words.

"I don't know," he admitted softly.

"Perhaps there never was. Perhaps we were always meant to be pawns in a game greater than ourselves. But... I want to try. I want to see if there's something more between us. Something real."

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words.

You wanted to believe him, to trust that he was sincere. But you couldn't help but feel a sense of caution.

"Anthony, I... I appreciate what you're saying. But I don't want to hurt you, or your family."

He took another step closer, his expression solemn.

"Y/n, I understand that. Yet, I want you to know that I will always put your happiness first. Above everything else."

His voice cracked slightly on the last word, and for a moment, you stood there in silence, the weight of your words hanging between you both.

And that was the very exact moment that you decided to do something very unexpected.

You stepped forward, closing the distance between you both, and tentatively placed your hand against his chest.

He looked down at you, his eyes wide with surprise, as if he couldn't quite believe what was happening.

You smiled up at him, feeling a warmth spread through your body that you hadn't experienced in a very long time.

"Anthony," you breathed, "I... is this a smart thing to do?"

He smiled down at you, his eyes softening.

"I don't know, y/n. But I do know that I've never felt this way about anyone before. And I think... I think I want to find out where this leads us."

As if emboldened by his words, you leaned in closer, your lips meeting his in a gentle kiss.

His hands came up to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he deepened the kiss.

It was a tentative, exploratory kiss, a first step into uncharted territory.

You could feel the heat from his body, the strength in his embrace, and for a moment, you forgot about everything else.

You pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily, your face flushed.

He looked into your eyes, searching for some sign of what you were feeling.

You reached up and traced your fingers along his jawline. "I know," you whispered, your voice shaking slightly. "I want to find out as well."

He smiled down at you, a genuine, heartfelt smile that lit up his entire face.

"Me too," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Me too."

#bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton netflix #colin bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #colin bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony x reader #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fanfic #benedict x y/n #benedict bridgerton x you

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ithebookhoarder · 9 days

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Hiiiiiii, Could i request an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic where Anthony married reader who is from a lower class (basically like Theo) and they end up having a fight because reader did something that would be considered out of class or simply wrong while she’s trying to learn to be a viscountess. Sorry if it didn’t make any sense English isn’t my first language 😭😭😭

All's Fair in Love and Cricket (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

Synopsis: After getting into a fight with your new husband you decide to settle your differences in a 'sporting' fashion, whilst reminding Anthony once and for all just who he married.

A/N: Ohhhhh boy did I enjoy this one. I'm sorry if it feels a little rushed or clunky in places, I may make some more edits at some point. I struggled with the flow of writing so much action but I loved it too much not to post it. So yeah, anxiety be damned else this would join the rest of the unposted drafts I have stashed away. I hope you enjoy it. 💕

Warnings: Anthony being a stupid idiot, class references (discrimination), reference to illness

Masterlist

It was late summer and as the sun beat down on the green lawns of St James’ Palace the lords and ladies below began to wilt. Many a woman held her parasol above her head in a desperate attempt to remain cool, which was hard when you wore petticoats and had nothing to do but sit and watch the men play cricket for hours on end.

Even Her Majesty looked like she was struggling to make it through the afternoon's entertainment, her attendants desperately fanning her where she sat under her canopy. They looked close to melting in their ornate gowns, however they were clearly willing to endure if it allowed them to continue admiring the game - and more importantly, those playing it. It was like waving a bone in a dog’s face as they watched all the eligible young men of the court sprinting about the green, their physique and athletic talents on clear display.

No wonder the Queen had her opera glasses with her, despite her proximity to the field.

You almost felt bad for them, watching as the men were subjected to the same treatment as the young ladies were night after night at social functions… hence the 'almost'. After all, there was a sense of satisfaction watching them preen and dance about like show ponies on display. That, and the view wasn’t exactly a terrible one when your husband was one of those playing.

You’d have endured sitting on that blasted green a thousand times over, baking in the afternoon sun and surrounded by swooning women, just to watch Anthony Bridgerton as he captained his team.

Being one of Anthony’s oldest and dearest friends, his competitive nature was well known to you (for which you had one too many games of Pall Mall at Aubrey Hall to thank), but it seemed to be out in full force today. You’d simply lost track of how many times he had dashed back and forth, working up somewhat of a sweat as he barked orders at his teammates in a desperate bid to ensure victory. It was no surprise to you that he had subsequently been forced to remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves, exposing his rather sculpted arms to those watching.

As you said, there were worse ways to spend an afternoon - and normally, you’d have been smugly lapping it up, however, today you were unable to truly enjoy yourself. Not when all you wanted to do was march over to him, take that cricket bat and give him a good whack or two. Maybe that would knock some sense back into idiot…

That was the issue with being in love with your dearest friend: those who knew you best also knew the best ways to hurt you, and Anthony’s behaviour at dinner the following evening had proven just how true a statement that was.

It had all started after the entire family had been summoned to the townhouse for a dinner, to toast you and what had so far been a successful first Season as Viscountess Bridgerton. At first, everything had appeared normal, with the usual laughter, merriment, and ease that one would typically experience at a Bridgerton gathering. It was what had first endeared the family to you, back when you had been but a small child, living at Aubrey Hall as the only daughter of their Stable Master.

They had never been anything other than kind to you, inviting you to play with their children, and join them in their daily lessons. They had also bought you gifts on your birthdays, invited you to join them at events, and even paid for the finest doctors when your father had fallen unwell several years ago. It was as if, to the Bridgertons, your family was their family - an attitude that they extended to the all members of the staff that kept their ancestral seat running. It didn’t matter if you were Head House Keeper, or the greenest of scullery maids. Everyone was counted and cherished, and the Bridgertons had earned utmost loyalty in return.

The rigid rules and divisions of high society didn’t appear to exist within the wisteria covered walls, and it had been that way well into your young adult life. In fact, it had been you that had initially rejected Anthony when he first declared his love for you one day, after taking you along with him on one of your many afternoon rides.

You’d been the one to remind him who he was and that society expected him to marry someone they deemed worthy of him and his title - and that wasn’t you. You didn’t have a penny to your name beyond the small sum you’d saved from helping with the younger Bridgerton children as a governess. You didn’t have a title or an estate or anything to bring to a marriage.

“Except the most important thing!” Anthony had pleaded. “Love… I love you, and there is no one else for me in this life except you. Life is short, terrifyingly short. Look at my mother and father… to be without the person you love most in the world is an agony and I cannot bear it. Please. I can’t lose you. I will not spend my life without you, knowing love is within both of our reach but that we were too afraid to grasp it? If I cannot spend my life, no matter how long it may be, with you then I will have no-one. No-one. My brothers can have the title. I don’t want it. I only want you.”

He’d continued to insist that for the following 6 months, even after his family had moved to their London house for the Season. It didn’t matter how many beautiful, eligible, wealthy heiresses he was introduced to. He would entertain none of them. He would have none of them. Only you.

It’s what he’d continued to insist until you’d eventually accepted, realising that he was right; Love was the most important thing and you both deserved to have it in your lives, come what may.

So, you’d said yes.

You’d become engaged and gradually made your way out into society as the new Viscountess Bridgerton, armed with the support and guidance of the Bridgertons.

Which brought you to last night and the dinner that had been organised to mark the end of the most challenging, but rewarding, Season of your life - and the dinner had started so wonderfully. Yet, somehow it had all gone to hell in a hand basket in the mere blink of an eye thanks the well meaning, but ill timed, teasing of Colin and Benedict.

Your brothers-in-law had both decided to raise a toast to your first Season as an ‘official’ member of the family and they'd got off to a rather complimentary start, if you were being honest. However, they had somehow moved from their praise on to reminiscing about the many years and many adventures you had had since joining their family.

Whereas every anecdote had caused the rest of the family to spiral into more laughter, your husband had looked more and more infuriated. In fact, Anthony had warned them not too kindly to ‘sit down’ and ‘shut up’ about your childish behaviours, which of course had only encouraged them further.

“Oh, hush, brother,” Benedict had quipped, raising a glass to your successful debut. “She knows we mean it all in good fun. After all, she once had a phase where she refused to wear shoes and would walk barefoot around the estate, traipsing mud everywhere! I think we’re allowed to be surprised by how far our dear darling Y/N has come.”

“It’s true - It’s a miracle,” Colin added, wiping the tears of laughter from his cheeks. “The transformation is remarkable. Who knew she would go from feral ragamuffin to lofty Lady Bridgerton.”

Anthony’s only response had been to tighten his grip on his glass to the point it looked like it would shatter.

Whether it was the residual stress of your busy social calendar, or something else entirely you had no idea. All you did know was that Anthony was angry, and even your gentle touch would not soothe him.

In a desperate attempt to calm him, you’d pulled Anthony out onto the terrace shortly after dessert had been cleared and asked what was happening. Much to your surprise, he had turned on you, venting about how childish his brothers were and how embarrassing it was that they were discussing things unbefitting someone who was a Viscountess.

“They’re just joking, my love. They were doing it to get a rise out of you.”

“Well, it wasn’t funny,” he’d growled, causing you to bristle. “They’re so immature. They need to grow up and realise we’re not children any more. That… that you’re my wife and joint head of this family.”

“So? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t, Anthony,” you snapped, the warning clear in your tone. “What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing, I just - it - they’re… it’s embarrassing.”

“So, you’re embarrassed? By what? Your family? Or me? Because everything they said tonight is true. I did do those things, as did you. I may not have been born a noble lady but you knew that when you asked me to marry you. So don’t suddenly act like you're ashamed, that you are somehow better than your family - than me.”

Somehow the argument had only spiralled from there, with both of you saying things you didn’t mean, and with both of you storming off and slamming the doors behind you.

Even now, sat on the edge of the cricket pitch, the thought made your blood boil. How dare he? How dare he act ashamed of you and the wondrous memories of your youth together? It wasn’t as if you hadn’t grown and matured since then. You had done everything within your power to be worthy of him and his family, and yet all it took was one mention of the girl you had once been to make him upset?

As if sensing your silent fury, Eloise had been glued to your side since the moment you'd left the house. Her company had been a blessing, with her numerous whispered remarks and jokes, making the day almost bearable. One remark in particular from Eloise had caused you to burst out laughing in a most undignified fashion after watching Anthony trip over one of the opposite team - the Duke of Hastings of all people.

You still weren’t quite sure how they had been positioned on opposite teams, but you were sure there was some kind of wicked divine intervention responsible. Who else would think it a good idea to put two competitive men against one another? Your hosts, perhaps? After all, Lady Danbury and Her Majesty had organised the game and you had learned long ago not to underestimate the women - especially when they decided to conspire together.

“How long is this delightful game again?” Eloise’s polite remark oozed with sarcasm as she leant back against the tree behind her.

It was obvious she was bored senseless. In fact, you half suspected she would have already left had her mother not been sat on the opposite side of the green, watching her like a hawk.

“I’m not sure,” you groaned in reply. “I lost count of who was winning about an hour ago.”

“So, we’re to be trapped here for eternity?”

“Pretty much, considering this part will not end until either Simon or Anthony lose, and we both know that neither one of them will concede defeat easily.”

Eloise rolled her eyes. “And I thought they were bad at Pall Mall-”

“-LOOK OUT!”

The cry interrupted both of you as you turned in surprise. Given the so-far sedimentary tone of the day, neither of you had expected such excitement as numerous Lords and Ladies began to hurl themselves out of the way as a stray cricket ball rocketed through the air, towards the crowd.

“Good god!”

The exclamation seemed apt as both you and Eloise ducked, watching as the ball sailed past, causing several yelps and groans from the people around you. You were pretty sure you also spied a glass of lemonade flying through the air in all the chaos. However, your attention was drawn to the figure charging towards you to retrieve the offending item as it rolled to a stop.

Anthony.

“Pardon me, Y/N,” he murmured, reaching down to collect the ball that now lay a small distance from your feet. You nodded in greeting, aware of the many eyes watching but you elected not to say anything, not trusting yourself not to make some snide remark.

As it was, you both had barely said more than a handful of words to each other since your argument last night.

Clearly sensing the lingering tension between you, Anthony quickly turned to address his sister instead. “Eloise.”

“Ah, brother," Eloise cheered. "Splendid play so far. Tell me, when did the object of the game become the decapitation of the ton? I would have attended far more cricket matches had I known that was the aim of the game.”

“You can blame Simon for that one,” he replied, his taunt hidden beneath his neutral smile. “Still, good dodging back there. I thought he might have nearly caught you both.”

“Almost.”

“But alas he missed, like most of your players today,” you quipped, enjoying the way Anthony seemed to redden at the reminder of his team’s less than stellar performance. “Still, good effort. You’ve almost caught up with Her Majesty’s team. I believe that’s better than last year.”

“Well, that might have had something to do with the fact that she does have Simon,” Anthony grumbled.

It was true, no one could out-run Simon - even if Anthony always gave it a damn good try: hence why the Queen often had him captain her team when he was in London for the season. Besides, the head of the other team was usually Lord Duval, due to his position as the Queen’s chief administrator. However, it seemed his brains and financial strength were all he had, due to the fact his social skills, and athleticism were sorely lacking.

“Touché, and who is up next?” Eloise asked.

“I don't actually know. The other team seem to be taking remarkably long to sort themselves out.”

Just then, almost as if on cue, three men began to hurry towards them.

A quick glance revealed that one of the gentlemen who was approaching was Colin Bridgeton, and the other the Duke of Hastings; that much you knew. The third was rather unfamiliar to you, however, you were pretty certain he’d been playing on Simon’s team. Regardless of his identity, neither he nor any of the other gentlemen now stood in front of you looked very pleased. Rather, they looked as if they had all sucked on a lemon, their frowns were so deep.

“Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I must reclaim Lord Bridgerton here for a moment. It appears Anthony will be needed to bowl again,” Simon sighed by way of explanation.

“What on earth for?”

Colin was the first to answer. “Lord Dingby is unable to bowl on account of the heat, and the Baron will not play.” His skepticism was clear as he shot the so called Baron a disapproving look. “He ’twisted his ankle’ or so he claims, thus we are down a bowler and the other team is down a player.”

You all rolled your eyes.

“So then, who will bat?” questioned Eloise curiously. “If Anthony is bowling you still require one more man to take their place on the other team?”

Wasn’t that the question of the hour. However, no one appeared to have an answer, and by the disapproving glare steadily growing on the Queen’s face, they didn’t have long to come up with one.

“Maybe Lord Stevens?” suggested the third man hastily, staring around at the crowd.

“No. He injured himself riding the other week,” Simon replied. “And unfortunately our hosts only saw fit to invite enough male guests as were playing. We aren’t exactly spoilt for choice regarding possible options.”

It was true. There didn’t seem to be any visible answer in sight given that those most suited to the game were already positioned on the field.

“What about female guests though?”

Your question hung in the air for a moment, causing everyone around you to turn in surprise.

“Excuse me?” Anthony looked at you suspiciously as you began to rise from your seat. He was well versed enough to know when mischief was afoot. A fact that was proven right a moment later as you held your hand out towards a shocked - and excited - Colin.

He was only too happy to oblige your silent request as he placed the bat in your grip. It was rapidly becoming the most exciting event of the season and lord knows he wasn’t about to spoil the fun - especially if he got to rub salt into Anthony’s wounds at the same time.

After all, given his display the previous evening, it was time you truly gave him something to feel embarrassed about. Losing.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Perfectly,” you smiled. “You’ve seen me when we’ve played Pall Mall. I have a decent enough swing. Besides, you said yourselves you need an extra player and there isn’t exactly anyone suited left - not anyone male, anyway.”

“Anthony?”

To his credit, your husband was also smiling, even if you could see the sudden tension forming behind his perfect smile. “I see no problem with it. I’m sure our hosts would prefer the game finished rather than called off because we ran out of players.”

“Agreed. Well, it’s settled then.” Simon cheered, clapping a hand on Anthony’s shoulder as they looked back towards the field. “It seems she will be taking his go.”

Then they noticed the rain cloud of a man next to them.

"She can’t play!” protested the third man. Everyone looked at him in silent disbelief. “This is a gentleman’s game. A Lady can not play."

“Her Majesty seems to have no objections,” Eloise commented smugly, glancing across the field. Indeed, it was true Her Majesty seemed to have no objections to the turn of events, choosing instead to exchange a wad of pound notes with the man beside her. If anything she looked exhilarated by the prospect. "Besides, I doubt a feeble female such as ourselves will pose any threat to your team, your Lordship.”

“Well… I… Bridgerton, I still don’t think-”

Thankfully, Anthony was all too busy gazing at you to take any notice of the pompous oaf’s objections.

It was a look you were more than familiar with, the unspoken desire and encouragement obvious in the way his gaze softened. It was the same look he always gave you when you’d done something amazing (and most things were amazing in his eyes). It didn't matter if it was taming a particularly unruly horse, solving a maths problem that left the rest of them scratching their heads, or daring to step onto the dance floor at your first ball, knowing not another soul in that room other than him.

It was a look that made you feel invincible. That you could do anything and everything you put your mind to as long as you had Anthony cheering you on from the sidelines... you were a team. Always.

"Anthony?" you asked, the challenge obvious - but also your sincerity. If he truly did not want you to play then you'd have marched back to your chair and sat right back down.

You'd meant it before. You loved your husband and wanted nothing more than to be the best partner you could be. Your hurt from last night had stemmed from the fear that, for a moment, that wasn't enough for him anymore.

Fortunately, it appeared you were wrong. Your husband wasn't embarrassed by you. If anything, he looked ready to kiss the ground you walked on as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, "If you can get four runs, I will personally pay you 5 pounds."

"You have a deal," you laughed. "As it is, women and ladies alike play cricket up and down the country. It’s high time we had a chance to show you boys up."

The other man began to protest again. "My Lady, my La-"

He never got very far. You simply stopped, turning and handing him your parasol and shawl.

"Thank you," you cheered marching away.

He paused, taken aback. It didn’t help that Eloise was only too eager to firmly pull him back into your now vacant seat with a glare that could have melted ice.

All around applause broke out as the players resumed their positions on the field. It took a moment or two for them to prepare for play but now everyone seemed to be watching intently.

Oh well, if you were to dare to play at all then you may as well dare to achieve something from it, you mused, gripping the bat handle and aligning yourself with the wicket. Victory seemed a rather good start, especially given the fact you had no idea what Lady Whistledown would make of this turn of affairs. You’d already had a shocking enough entrance into the world of the Ton, what was one more daring display?

"Go easy, Lord Bridgerton," the referee cautioned from the side of the green.

Anthony nodded obediently at the crowd’s titters. You could see the restraint he was demonstrating, choosing not to hurl the ball at you the way he would had you both been in the privacy of your home. Instead, it took all his will power to grip the cricket ball and resume his position on the field.

Unfortunately, you never knew when best to desist from poking proverbial bears. That, and Anthony was too easy a target.

"Yes, do go easy on me," you jibed. Everyone who knew you could hear the sarcasm buried in your voice as you took the bat and fluttered your eyelashes at him. "I’m only a delicate woman, but I must endeavour to ensure her Majesty’s team at least has an opportunity to best you, Lord Bridgerton. You’re only losing by what? A few wickets?"

Oh. You were in for it now.

Anthony’s grin was devious as he stepped back a few paces, weighing the ball in his hand till finally he charged at you, swinging his arm over in the perfect bowl.

It was then you brought up your bat to send the ball back in a high arc.

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone followed the ball with their eyes. It was as if they couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to hit it. However, the shock quickly wore off as everyone remembered the point of hitting the ball in the first place.

"GO!" came a yell from the crowd as excitement began to spread.

So, you did.

Hitching your skirts in one hand, you began to sprint towards the other set of wickets, grinning as your partner passed you along the way.

Of course, you would have liked to protest that you could have indeed run faster had you not been encumbered by your stays and petticoats. Your slippers were also rather terrible for any movement. What you wouldn’t have given for a pair of trousers right then.

"Come on!" came another yell - it seemed as if everyone was forgetting their dignity in all the excitement as you tore back and forth across the grass in a mad blur.

Had it been anyone but you, it would have been a terribly scandalous moment. Yet, your name - and the status of your betrothed - meant this was all merely seen as sport. Besides, from the way Her Majesty was whooping from her perch by the trees, it was clear where her loyalties lay.

"Come on Y/N!"

"Anthony! Run!"

"Over here!"

"Come on!"

The cries blurred into one as you finally turned at what you planned on being your final run, only to spot Anthony as he came sprinting back towards you… and the wicket.

"Oh no, you don’t," you laughed, charging onwards in a final burst of energy.

You could hardly catch your breath as the world slowed around you.

All that remained was you, Anthony, and the closing distance between you.

You could see his desperation laced with delight as he watched you stagger towards the wicket… just as the ball he’d thrown hit it.

"IN!"

The referee’s declaration initiated an eruption of noise as all around the green, men and women celebrated the spectacle they’d just witnessed, and the victory you had now ensured. Within seconds you were swarmed, mobbed by well wishers and triumphant team mates. There were so many hugs and snatched ‘well done’s that you were quite at a loss what to do other than stand there and accept it. Thankfully, Anthony seemed to have read your mind and was at your side as soon as he was able to fight through the jubilant throng.

The moment he reach you he took your hand in his. His expression was a mixture of awe and contrition, clearly unsure what to say to you.

"Good game," he praised. "Simon better watch out - I think Her Majesty will be asking you to captain her team next year."

"What a tremendous idea, Lord Bridgerton. I may just do that."

As if summoned by the very mention of her, a voice rang out clearly from behind you. Without even turning you knew exactly who was standing behind you, as the throng suddenly fell silent around you and parted like the Red Sea. In all the excitement you had failed to notice the Royal party making their way across the field to join in the celebrations.

With a gulp, you turned and dropped into the most respectful curtsey you could manage without falling flat on your face. "Y - your Majesty."

The Queen chuckled. "I must thank you, Lady Bridgerton, for providing such excitement to our proceedings today. I also must thank you for the twenty pounds I just procured off of Brimbsley - that’ll teach him to bet against me."

You merely dipped your head in gratitude, unsure whether this was actually happening or not. After all, the closest the you’d ever been to monarch was your hasty presentation several months ago and that had barely earned you more than a curious glance, like you had been some exotic animal on parade at the Zoo. And now, the Queen was addressing you? A lowly Stable Master’s daughter?

It was enough to make you feel as if this was all some kind of surreal dream.

"Anyone who bets against your Majesty deserves to be relieved of their coin."

"True, True," she preened, gesturing for you and everyone else to rise. "I gather you have played this game before?"

"Growing up around the Bridgertons ensured I had little alternative," you confirmed, relieved when the Queen proceeded to chuckle good-naturedly.

"I dare say you didn’t, my dear. Well, it certainly makes for a rather entertaining afternoon, as well as a victorious one. Perhaps we aught to have women playing more often." She turned her head and chose to direct her next words directly to your husband. "You’ve chosen quite the bride, Lord Bridgerton - you are to be congratulated on choosing such a spirited partner. I hope you realise how lucky you are."

"Indeed, your Majesty," Anthony replied, the earnestness clear in his eyes. "I’ve realised just how truly unique and remarkable she is… and how lucky I am that she chose to be on my team, even if not on the cricket pitch."

Another round of laughter echoed out at his declaration but you knew it was more than just a jest. In fact, by the all-too-clear pride radiating off of the eldest Bridgerton you knew what he truly meant with his honeyed praise.

It was all the apology you could need and had you not been in such company you’d have dragged him into the bushes and shown him just how much you forgave him. Besides, your victory on the Cricket pitch was enough pay-back for both of you.

As if sensing the amorous tension steadily rising around her, the Queen chose that moment to make a well-timed departure, in search of a refreshment. She barely gave you all a final nod before marching off to greet the rest of her guests, leaving you stood there with a rather gobsmacked expression on your face.

"Well… that really happened," you murmured, struggling to maintain your newfound confidence now that the whole saga had come to an end. "Did I actually just do that? Did the Queen actually just … talk to me?"

"She really did," Anthony confirmed, hands grazing yours nervously, as if unsure whether or not you’d accept his touch. However, your hands accepted his readily, fingers intertwining as you squeezed his palm in an obvious attempt to ground yourself. "You truly were incredible today - I know you don’t need to hear it but, for what it’s worth, I am proud of you."

"Thank you."

"And I truly am sorry for being such a world class fool, last night," he continued swiftly, clearly keen to make his apology whilst you were willing to receive it. "I didn’t mean to make you feel as if I was embarrassed by you. I never could be. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I was vexed with my brothers and because of several other trivial matters, but I allowed my temper to get the better of me and I handled it poorly. I lashed out at the wrong person - the one person who deserves nothing less than to be told how incredible she is, every single day. I am unworthy of you, Y/N. I know no one else in the entire world so awe inspiring and to let you think otherwise for even a moment was my failing entirely. You are brave and smart and funny and kind and beautiful-"

"Ok, Anthony. I get it."

"-and I am unworthy of someone with such skill on the cricket pitch-"

"Anthony," you squealed, trying to hide your laughter as he pulled you into his arms and smothered your face in kisses. "It’s fine. I forgive you. After all, I also lost my temper and said some things I didn’t mean. Can we just agree we’re both sorry and put this mess behind us?"

"Yes! God yes," he sighed, looking like a weight had visibly lifted from his shoulder. "Because I really do not like fighting with you. Instead, I think we should be enjoying your victory parade. Today is your triumph, after all - the Queen’s champion."

"Hmmm, I rather like that title," you purred, gazing up at him. "But between us? I prefer being your wife, much much more."

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frost-queen · 3 months

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Tempting fate (Reader!Featherington x Colin Bridgerton)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

The night was out. Chilled but rather comforting on the skin. You were outside, waiting as your sister had already taken the carriage in a haste. Not a few moments ago she had a little encounter with Colin Bridgerton. One that you witnessed from afar. You could tell by your sister’s expression that she was displeased. Distressed to say the least. Once again had Colin Bridgerton said something to upset your sister. It was getting out of hand and you hated him for it. Hating how he toggled with your sister’s feelings.

They had been friends for a while now, but your sister desired more. He was the only good gentleman that gave her attention during the balls. Even if it was just a little. It wasn’t his first slip, but this time you clearly had enough of him. Now that your sister had run off with the carriage, you were left to return home on your own. Waiting for the carriage to return to the estate of this night’s ball would take awfully long.

Rubbing your arms gently, you hesitantly decided what to do. Go or stay? Slightly turning your head you noticed in the corner of your eye a figure approach. Once you fully got a glimpse of him, you rolled your eyes with annoyance. – “Y/n.” – Colin said approaching you. – “Good night Mr. Bridgerton.” – you answered coldly turning your posture away from him. – “Do you not need a chaperone?” – he asked making you stop in your way. With a deep sigh, trying to temper your annoyance down, you turned back to him.

“Certainly not from you.” – you answered with a forced smile. He stared confused at you. Trying to process the meaning of your words. He slightly came closer to you. – “Did…did I say something to offend you?” – he questioned. You scoffed making him furrow his brows dumbfound. Colin and you hadn’t been the closest, yet he considered himself acquainted with you through your sister. – “To my sister you did!” – you bit back finding his act of stupidity tiring.

“Pen?” – Colin. – “I…I don’t understand.” – he answered. – “Why do you minimize my sister?” – you asked him boldly. Colin was taken back by your reply, looking surprised at you. – “Minimize… no, Y/n… I…I wrote to your sister everyday this summer with little reply.” – he said with a charming smile. You smiled in return as Colin flourished from seeing you smile. Yet your smile had other intensions. – “Oh, yes I know all about the letters you wrote her. Letting her know about all your adventures. I am well aware of that Colin!” – you pressured on.

Colin chuckled nervously. – “Are… are you going to make me say it out loud?” – he responded feeling a bit foolish. You quirked your eyebrow up unintrigued. – “I missed her.” – he told you. You busted out in a laugh. – “You miss her?” – you positioned yourself stronger, fiercer to go up against your sister’s good friend. – “You miss her, but you would never court her is that correct?”

“Y/n I…” – Colin started finally losing a bit of his boyish foolishness towards you. – “I overheard you!” – you called out. – “At my mama’s ball last season… telling everyone you would never ever court Penelope Featherington.” – You felt yourself get a bit emotional, defending your sister against her best friend. Against the one she loved. Some voices approached as it drew Colin’s attention briefly away from you. – “Bridgerton.” – one of them greeted as they passed. Colin bowed his head to them before leaning a bit closer to you. Lowering his voice he spoke – “Perhaps we should go where there’s somewhere private?” – he suggested.

“Because I embarrass you?” – you said loud enough for anyone walking around to hear. – “My sister can change her entire wardrobe and gain confidence but that would never take away that she is the laughingstock of the ton.” – you outed in anger. – “My sister doesn’t deserve a cruel man like yourself in her life.” – you picked up the hem of your dress. – “Good night Sir!” - you saluted coldly at him before taking off in the night. Colin watched you leave with a certain guilt eating at him.

Two days later you were with your sisters and mama at a garden event. Your sisters sitting down in a chair underneath a tent, waving themselves some cool. Your mother was chatting with some of the other mother’s. You had no idea where Penelope was. You on the other hand were playing battledores and shuttlecock’s with some of the other season’s participants.

You stood on one side with a girl you were quite familiar with. On the other side were two gentleman. The shuttlecock went high up in the air as the boys knocked it to each other. You were waiting for the shuttlecock to come your way to hit it to her and then back to the boys without it touching the ground.

Somehow your attention got drawn away from the heavens. Seeing Colin Bridgerton clearly look for someone not far from you. – “Miss Y/n!” – one of the men called out as the shuttlecock went your way. Your attention was back as you calculated the moment your battledore hit the shuttlecock. The shuttlecock went up in the air as you thought back of annoying Colin.

The shuttlecock came down once more as you needed to pass it to your companion. Yet you let the shuttlecock come lower, batting it away with your battledore towards Colin. You watched as it hit him in the head. The shuttlecock fell in his hand as he looked down at it confusingly. Rubbing his sore head with the other one. The girl at your side pointed firmly at Colin to go and fetch it. You sighed loud going over to him. The moment Colin noticed you approach, he dropped to a bow. – “My shuttlecock.” – you said offering your hand for him to lay it in.

“You hit me.” – Colin responded. – “Must have slipped.” – you responded sarcastic. Colin was all but amused. – “Now my shuttlecock.” – you insisted upon. Colin was about to give it to you till he changed his mind last moment. He had taken a deep breath, moving the shuttlecock behind his back. – “I’ll give it back if you allow me to apologise first.” – he started throwing a charming smile at you. – “You should apologise to my sister.” – you made clear not wanting an apology from him.

Colin tensed his jaw, as he had hoped for another outcome. – “I…Y/n.” – he sighed out. – “I don’t require your useless apology. My sister needs to be apologized to.” – you told him clearly. Colin sighed loud getting worked up by your attitude towards him. – “Fine! If you don’t accept my apology, you might not even deserve it.” – he snapped back. – “I don’t even want it!” – you fired back. – “Fine!” – he finished. – “Fine!” – you repeated loud.

“Good luck getting this back than!” – he showed you the shuttlecock again. You slapped your hand at it as Colin had pulled it away in time. – “Give it back!” – you called out to him, getting some attention from bystanders. – “You don’t deserve this.” – he mocked, taunting you by showing you the shuttlecock just out of reach. You groaned annoyed as he moved it behind his back. You knocked into him full force to reach for it behind his back. A bit too forceful perhaps?

Colin stumbled backwards as you fell with him. With a loud oof fell you on him. Now having the full attention of those around you. You were very much aware of the staring eyes. You pushed yourself hard off him. He felt the air get sucked out of his lungs. – “Eat it!” – you cursed at him storming off. Colin sat up, swallowing nervously at the sudden attention. Getting up, he saw Penelope look his way. He shamefully turned his head away, getting up and taking his leave.

Lights were flickering in the warmth of the room. Music filled the room. Dancers were taking in the centre of the room. You stood by the side with your two other sisters and mama. Your gaze went across the room. When your eyes fell upon Colin, you glared at him. He glared back at you, turning his head proudly away. You stubbornly looked away as well. Looking down, you fidgeted on your dress. Somehow it pained you to see him act so coldly towards you.

You didn’t intend on doing so but the more time you spend with Colin, arguing and bickering, the more you felt drawn to him. You shouldn’t be falling for him, but yet you were. Some novels say that you grow more attracted to those things you hate the most with frequency. This might be the case for Mr. Bridgerton and you. Mama nudged you hard making you lift your chin back up. She gestured to you, to smile so you could attract more eligible men.

Not being in the mood for her interfering, you took off. Blending through the crowd to escape her. Pushing yourself through the crowd. Coming to a brief stop, you came face to face with your sister Penelope. Your eyes widened briefly before you rushed off to the hallway to avoid her. Penelope blended with the crowd, lowering her head when she saw Colin near. He was clearly in pursuit of someone.

Almost panting he disappeared through the same door you had left moments ago. It made Penelope think doubtfully. You exhaled loud setting your hands on the desk from the room you had run off to. Clutching your heart, you felt it beat faster. Faster then it normally did. Was this Colin’s doing? Shaking your head you didn’t want to think about him. It was wrong to think of his that way. Your sister was madly in love with him. You couldn’t… not for the sake of her. – “Y/n.” – you jumped back startled at the hearing of your voice.

Colin had entered the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. You rounded the desk, creating more distance between you and him. – “Shouldn’t you dance with my sister.” – you sarcastically suggested to him. He exhaled soft, practically done with your flight modus. Done with how you kept pushing yourself away and shoving your sister to the front. – “Y/n.” – Colin started as you didn’t want to hear it. – “You keep doing it Colin. You keep minimizing my sister.” – you told him.

“Ignoring every hint she throws at you, and you too blind to see it. I hate how you ridicule my sister’s feelings towards you. She is not some object.” – you ranted out as Colin came nearer, going round the desk to reach you. – “You tell her you miss her, but you won’t court her. Why?” – you asked desperate. – “I can’t court her.” – he answered standing face to face with you.

“Why?” – you repeated wanting to have a clear answer. Colin felt himself be swept up by the heated moment. – “I just can’t.” – he responded loudly feeling his hands tremble to get a hold on you. – “Answer me. Clearly!” – you called out getting up in his face. – “Because I want you!” – Colin shouted back, practically panting from the tension released inside of him. Your eyes widened.

Colin grabbed for your face. The hell with being a gentleman. The hell with your reputation and his. In this moment he just wanted you. He forced himself forwards, pressing his lips on yours. Your gaze widened more at his touch. His lips gently brushing against yours as you fell under his spell. Giving in to the sensation as it was beyond this world.

Butterflies flattering around inside till they suddenly dropped with realisation. Guilt. You pushed Colin off, breaking off the kiss. Colin blinked confused at you breaking it off. Stunned you held your hand before your mouth. As if something was stolen from your lips. A kiss perhaps? – “My sister…” – you whispered out knowing just how much she loved him. – “Y/n…” – Colin said wanting to approach you.

“No!” – you called out clear, taking a step back. – “I…I can’t do this…” – you told him running around the desk. Throwing the door open and taking your leave. Colin went around the desk as well, standing in the door opening. One last attempt to call out to you, but you were out of reach.

Exhaling deep, he lowered his head, heart broken at the loss of touch. He never courted Penelope but he found himself falling for you. Her sister. The sister that yelled at him. That wasn’t afraid to speak back even when some might find it out of turn. He liked how sincere you were, but also caring and free. A bright personality when one got to know you, truly know you.

Penelope bit the sour apple down. A single tear fell down her cheek, yet her face stood bitter. Bitter with hatred for what she had just seen. Her own sister fleeing a room with Colin Bridgerton showing himself in the door opening. It was clear to anyone that you had been in there privately with him.

Penelope made her way to the carriage. Rushing to get home. In the carriage she pulled out a piece of parchment from her reticule. The carriage hobbled yet she maintained balance. Taking out a pencil, she set it down on the parchment.

Dearest gentile reader…

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists! [read part 2 & part 3 & part 4 ]

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bosbas · 3 months

Text

Chapter 1: if a man talks shit then I owe him nothing

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy-ish!fem!reader WC: 4.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, some strong language, a small part of the dialogue is in French (with translations provided), period-typical views on women, alluding to sex, mentions of alcohol

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: French is not my first language so IM SORRY if the dialogue is a bit weird. I speak some French and obvi double checked to make sure it made sense but please lmk if i made a mistake

April 14, 1816 – Dearest Gentle Readers,

A new season is upon us, and so my work begins anew. Firstly, we can reacquaint ourselves with the familiar faces we expect to see this season. It has been two years since Viscount Anthony Bridgerton married, and dowager Viscountess Bridgerton is surely itching to secure a match for more of her children. Miss Eloise Bridgerton, now in her second year of being out, remains unmarried. And, of course, one cannot help but wonder whether the charming Mr. Colin Bridgerton will return from his travels in time for the season. Though Benedict Bridgerton has been absent from the public eye as of late, he could also be considered an eligible bachelor. Shall we see any of them marry this season? This author remains skeptical, though, with the Bridgertons, one must always expect the unexpected.

There are, however, plenty of new faces. Chief among them are the two youngest Montclair siblings. The Montclairs resided in London for the debut of Lady Charlotte Montclair, now the Duchess of Somerset, before vanishing from England’s social scene. Until now, of course. Though Lord Louis Montclair is only two and twenty and may still be considered green for the marriage mart, all eyes will surely be on Lady Y/N Montclair as she steps into the spotlight and searches for an impressively titled gentleman. Though the Montclairs have graced the streets of Calcutta, Rome, Geneva, and Madrid, among other illustrious locales, one can only hope that the grandeur of London lives up to their expectations.

You let out a resigned sigh of frustration, scolding yourself for your tardiness as you hurried down the stairs. It was half an hour past when you were supposed to be in the breakfast room, and your mother was bound to be at least a little displeased with you. It was the first time your entire family was in the same place since your older brother Jacques got married in September. Despite being a big family, six siblings in total, four of whom were married, it was unusual that you had gone so long without seeing them all in one place.

Moving from country to country every few years for much of your upbringing had made your siblings a very tight-knit bunch. So, as you neared the breakfast room, which was full of laughter and lively conversation, you couldn't shake the twinge of guilt for your late arrival.

But you couldn’t help it! Not this time, at least. It had been your first night in London since your sister Charlotte’s season eight years ago, and you had stayed up until the early hours of the morning stargazing in your garden. There was a secluded patch of grass between the summer pavilion and the tulips, a secret spot hidden from prying eyes, where you could spend hours looking at the sky in peaceful solitude. Last time you were in London, you had snuck out of your bedroom every night to stare at the stars, and you had been pleased to find that the spot remained undiscovered.

You had always been comforted by the fact that the cosmos would remain the same even if your home did not. The night sky had become somewhat of a companion during your childhood years, and you were interested to see what part of it you were privy to in London at this time of year. Perhaps a scolding and a lecture from your mother were not such a high price to pay for the opportunity to reacquaint yourself with the stars, you reasoned.

You slithered into the breakfast room quietly, hoping to draw as little attention to yourself as possible, but you had no such luck. Your brother closest to you in age, Louis, was sitting nearest to the door and noticed your late entrance immediately.

Taking advantage of every opportunity to make your life just a little harder, he goaded, “T'es très en retard, demoiselle. Ce n'est pas convenable pour une fille en quête d'un mari!” (You’re very late, young lady. This is not suitable for a girl looking for a husband!)

Under any other circumstances, you might have laughed at his impression of your mother, but you were quite sleep-deprived and in no mood to have your brother lecture you. You sighed in frustration, hissing, “Louis, ferme ta gue-” (Louis, shut you mou-)

“English, please!” interrupted your father, not even looking up from his newspaper as he sat at the head of the table.

You were relieved he hadn’t commented on your colorful language, but his curt reprimand reminded you that it was in poor taste to speak a language not everyone could understand. Growing up, your family had primarily spoken French, but with none of your siblings having married a francophone, you were now only allowed to speak in French when everyone present could speak it, too. It was a rule enforced particularly during big family gatherings such as this one. Despite your fluency in five languages, your parents insisted on English, the only common language among all twelve family members.

“Sorry,” you muttered, not quite sure that your father had even heard. You slid into your seat between Louis and your brother Jacques’ wife, Chiara. Still annoyed with Louis, you turned to the newest addition to the Montclair family and smiled at her warmly.

“Ciao, Y/N,” she greeted, smiling back and kissing you on the cheek.

“Ciao, Chiara, è bello rivederti,” you responded (Hi Chiara, it’s nice to see you again). You were tempted to keep speaking to her in Italian–you liked the practice, after all–but feared another scolding from your father. So, you settled for, “I trust your trip back home was good?”

“Oh, it was lovely. Florence always is at this time of year. You should come back to visit sometime! Beatrice misses you terribly,” she exclaimed.

Beatrice was Chiara’s younger sister, whom you had become dear friends with while living in Tuscany. You had remained in Tuscany for nearly four years, longer than you usually stayed in one place, and though you were itching to leave and see more of the world by the end of your time in Florence, you were thankful you had met Beatrice. Both of you were delighted when you realized your brother was marrying her sister, ensuring you would remain close even when you moved away.

You sighed. “I miss her, too. We correspond quite regularly, but it’s simply not the same. I assume it will be worse now that I am in England and even farther from her,” you lamented.

After Jacques and Chiara’s wedding, your parents, Louis, and you returned home to Amboise for a few months. Beatrice had visited for the holidays along with Chiara and Jacques, but you knew she was unlikely to come to England when she was busy with her season back home.

Chiara smiled sympathetically. “Well, Jacques and I are only staying for a few weeks before returning to Tuscany. If you get bored here in London, you are always welcome to visit,” she comforted.

It was a lovely thought, but you doubted your parents would allow you to leave England until you were married. Your parents’ marriage had most certainly not been a love match, and though they did grow to love each other eventually, they didn’t particularly care whether you loved the man you married. To them, marriage was an economic endeavor rather than a romantic one. You had never minded much, having accepted your fate early in life as you watched your siblings marry strategically.

Nevertheless, you had grown rather nervous about your season after watching the outcome of Charlotte’s. In your parents’ eyes, her season was a complete success as she married a Duke a few short months after her debut. But you knew better. Not all of your siblings had enjoyed moving around so much, but you, Louis, and Charlotte were the most enthusiastic. Having married the Duke of Somerset, Charlotte had become Duchess, and her duties tied her to England. After such an international childhood, you knew Charlotte was dreadfully bored of staying in England year after year.

You knew there were much worse marriages to be in, but you still wanted to avoid being permanently tied to England, of all places. You were only twenty years old, after all, and you still had so much of the world to see.

---

“By the way,” Violet said, strategically avoiding the topic until she was about to leave the sitting room. “Both of you are attending the Danbury ball tomorrow night.”

The expected chorus of complaints filled her ears, and she shook her head in amusement at her children’s petulance. One would think she was trying to force them to walk halfway across the world!

Violet sighed and said firmly, “I understand that neither of you is particularly enthusiastic, but we are not so rude as to miss the first ball of the season. And at Lady Danbury’s home, at that! Surely the retribution you would receive from her is enough to make you want to go.”

“Well, Colin’s coming home from Greece tomorrow and I hardly think he’ll be in attendance, so I don’t see why we should be,” argued Eloise, earning an enthusiastic nod from Benedict.

“You make the mistake of thinking that I have not already informed Colin he will be in attendance. None of you have the option to stay home, I’m afraid.”

And with that, she left her grumbling children behind in favor of a quiet turn around the garden.

---

Colin arrived at Number 5 Bruton Street feeling rather unkempt. His journey from Greece had been particularly tumultuous, and he was ready to change clothes and sleep for the next seventeen hours.

“Colin! I’m so glad you’re home,” exclaimed Violet upon seeing him. For all her nagging, he was quite fond of his mother and found that he had missed her while he had been away. Seeing tears forming in her eyes, Colin wrapped Violet up in a tight hug, hoping to avoid feeling worse about being away for so long.

“He’s home!” shouted Gregory, running up to greet him. The rest of his siblings followed suit, and Colin basked in the excitement of his homecoming.

To the rest of the ton, Colin was the most well-liked Bridgerton due to his easygoing nature and cheerful demeanor, and because he was rather good-looking as well, he hoped. However, it was nice to know that his family still cared for him despite his prolonged absences.

“The Danbury ball is in a few hours, so make sure to be ready on time,” his mother reminded him once she had gathered herself.

He groaned, having forgotten he had promised his mother he would attend. He sighed as he prepared for an evening of excruciating conversation as he politely listened to ambitious mamas name every single positive attribute their daughters possessed in the hopes of impressing him. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them, but rather that he remained uninterested in marriage, finding his travels a much more exciting prospect. But he had a reputation to maintain, so he would be as courteous as ever to everyone he met and perhaps even dance with a few of them.

A few hours later, the Bridgertons were, quite impatiently, one could say, waiting for Benedict to finish getting ready so they could leave for the Danbury Ball.

“Excited for your third season?” Colin directed his question at Eloise. He knew the answer, of course, but he was growing bored of waiting for Benedict and thought that this would be the perfect distraction.

“Shut up.”

“Maybe you’ll find someone you absolutely adore, El. Don’t close yourself off to the possibilities,” preached Colin, annoying Eloise further.

“What about you, Colin? Five and twenty and still unmarried, that’s a bit ghastly don’t you think?” she shot back.

Of course, it wasn't unheard of to be unmarried at his age, but Colin panicked regardless, knowing his mother would surely love to join the conversation now that his marriage prospects were a talking point. But Benedict saved him by walking down the stairs at that moment.

“Finally! Now can we go, please?” exclaimed Eloise.

“I’m surprised, Eloise. I thought you didn’t want to go to this ball,” teased Benedict, but she only grumbled in return as they headed toward their carriage.

The carriage rides were usually the worst part of going to a ball. Violet Bridgerton, efficient as ever, would inform each of her children of the possible prospects that would be in attendance that night, impossibly elongating the journey and making the Bridgertons less and less pleased about being forced to go. They weren't always forced, of course, but the carriage rides certainly made it seem that way.

“The Montclairs will be in London for the season, I heard. Lady Y/N Montclair will be making her debut, which will surely interest you two,” said Violet, nodding at the men in the carriage. “And for you, Eloise, her older brother Lord Louis Montclair is perhaps too young to get married, but it wouldn’t hurt to speak with him and practice your French.”

Violet droned on for the rest of the ride, and the Bridgerton siblings could barely get out of the carriage fast enough when it arrived at Danbury House. Little did they know that they had played right into Violet’s plan. She wanted to enjoy the evening and visit with her friends, and hopefully, her overly long analysis of the key figures at today’s ball would keep her children away from her enough for her to do so.

Inside the ballroom, you were speaking with a perfectly nice but quite boring gentleman. You couldn’t quite remember his name, having talked to at least a dozen men practically identical to him already. You barely registered his request for a dance, and you only realized you had accepted when you found yourself in the middle of the dance floor. Luckily, the dance went by fairly quickly and you were able to sprinkle in interested hums and “oh really?” at the appropriate times. All in all, it was not a terrible experience, if only you could remember his name.

He returned you to your mother and bowed in parting, kissing your hand and promising to call on you the next day.

“Who was that?” you muttered once he had left.

“Y/N,” she scolded, but could barely contain her laughter. “I can’t believe you danced with a man you don’t even know the name of!”

You shrugged, not particularly interested in learning who he was anymore.

“Is there anyone else you want me to meet?” you asked her, hoping she would say no and you would be free to find Louis and talk to someone familiar at last.

But your mother was distracted from answering as she saw two tall men crossing the ballroom. She squeezed your arm and nodded in their direction, careful to be discreet.

“Those are the Bridgertons. Their oldest brother, the Viscount, is already married, but it is of no consequence. Perhaps the second and third sons might not be fit to be your husband, but you should still introduce yourself and make a good impression should you encounter them.”

You nodded, disinterested. You were too busy looking around the room, realizing that there was still a myriad of gentlemen left to speak with. It seemed that there were too many eligible bachelors if that was even possible. You had thought there would be five men that your mother would have approved of, at most, and you could make your pick between them. But it seemed London was a particularly popular place for titled gentlemen to search for a wife, and you were growing uneasy.

Trying not to think about the long evening ahead of you, you tuned back into what your mother was saying. “Oh! I don’t quite know where Colin Bridgerton has gone off to now, but Benedict is over by the lemonade if you can see him. I believe that is his sister, Eloise. They all look identical, don’t they? The same brown h-”

“Pardon me,” you interrupted as panic rose in your chest. You were in desperate need of a respite, and could hardly handle another minute listening to her speak about more men she needed you to meet. “I think I see an old friend of mine, and I must say hello,” you lied.

Your mother raised her eyebrows in surprise, shocked that you remembered people from eight years ago, but let you go regardless. Impatiently, you waited until someone else engaged her in conversation and quietly slipped out into the hallway. Stepping out of a ball on your own like this was forbidden, and your father would surely have your head if he found out you had risked being found unchaperoned and away from the ball, but you needed to get away for just a moment to gather yourself.

Lady Danbury’s home was quite beautiful, you found, and you were enjoying looking at the art on her walls as you roamed the halls. You were careful not to stray too far, not knowing your way around and recognizing that you only had a short time before someone was bound to notice your absence.

Suddenly, your senses heightened as you heard two men’s voices far closer than you would have liked. Panicking, you jumped around a corner and prayed that no one would find you, absolutely not ready to be forced to marry a man only one ball into your debut. You willed your heart to stop beating so loudly lest you get caught and tried to discern what the men were saying, unable to quell your curiosity despite the precarious position you found yourself in.

“And, if she's the right sort of woman, you won’t even have to do anything, she'll just get on top and do all the work. Though I suppose it all depends on her dowry. The larger the dowry the more I’m willing to overlook,” slurred one of them. “And you, Colin? Do any ladies catch your eye? I’m sure you could get away with anything with any of these girls, though I suggest picking one that’s got good hips.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief at the same time as you heard 'Colin' say, “Why don’t we continue this conversation outside, Nigel?”

Their footsteps echoed down the hall and you risked a glance at them, still horrified but wanting to know who they were anyway. You were unsurprised to find Nigel walking toward the garden, having met Mr. Nigel Berbrooke earlier in the evening and finding him quite unpleasant. However, you were shocked to find who you assumed to be Colin Bridgerton walking quite close to Mr. Berbrooke. Hadn’t your mother said the Bridgertons were people of good standing? Surely someone would have noticed that the third son was a complete ass. But perhaps he was the odd one out, and the rest of his family was lovely. Or perhaps Englishmen were simply unpleasant as a whole. Whatever the reason for his horrible comments, you decided you despised Colin Bridgerton and dreaded the day you would have to speak with him.

“Quel salaud,” you muttered angrily under your breath after you heard Mr. Bridgerton close the door to the outdoor patio (What a bastard). Pacing up and down the hallway, you were too enraged by what you heard to return to the ballroom.

The quality of men in England seemed to be quite lacking, and suddenly you wished you could follow in your sister Isabelle’s footsteps and go to Spain to find a titled gentleman there. Isabelle had seemed quite excited about all her suitors before eventually settling on Carlos, who practically worshipped the ground she walked on. Unfortunately, it seemed that you were not destined for such a husband, you thought glumly.

But you supposed you didn't really have a choice. You let out a weary sigh and leaned heavily against the wall, shaking your head as you accepted the reality of your situation. With an angry humph and one last look to make sure no one was around, you quietly slipped back into the ballroom and searched for your mother, who would surely be looking for you now. As you expected, she spotted you almost instantly, and she immediately drew you into conversation with a gentleman you believed to be an Earl.

---

Colin stood outside the door to the ballroom, flexing his fingers to make sure there was still feeling there. Confirming the health of his right hand, he gently opened the ballroom door with his left and stepped inside, looking around for Benedict. Spotting him a few feet away, Colin quickly made his way over hoping to avoid any particularly insistent mamas at this precise moment.

“You look quite relaxed,” commented Benedict, earning a glare from Colin.

“Berbrooke,” Colin explained flatly. “How that man manages to get so drunk so quickly I will never know.”

But suddenly his attention was drawn elsewhere. Time seemed to slow down as a stunning lady he had never seen before crossed the ballroom. He was paralyzed, stuck to his spot on the ground as he stared after you. The only thing he could hear was his heart beating loudly in his ears, and though Colin wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, he imagined it might have felt something like this if he did. Without a second thought, he knew he had to know you. It was almost instinctual.

Colin tugged on Benedict’s sleeve, his eyes still glued to your form as you laughed politely at whoever you were speaking with. “Who is that over there? Have you spoken with her?”

“I’m sure I have no idea,” responded Benedict. “You could always ask Mother.”

“I might do just that, actually,” hummed Colin, deep in thought.

Benedict choked back a laugh, looking over at his younger brother. “Are you being serious?”

Tearing his eyes away from you for a moment, Colin turned to his brother, confused. “Well, yes. If anyone knows who she is, it’ll be her, no?”

Realizing that Colin was, in fact, quite serious, Benedict’s expression sobered. “You are aware if you even hint at the fact that you might be interested in her, Mother will surely come up with at least a dozen plans to marry you off?”

“I don’t think that would be the worst thing in the world,” Colin reasoned, eyes searching for you in the crowd again. Five minutes ago, he would’ve thought it silly, how captivated he was by you. But five minutes ago, he had not yet seen you.

Just as he was about to seek out his mother to ask about you, Lady Danbury walked up to the pair of Bridgertons and poked Colin's foot with her cane. Usually, her presence would have instilled a healthy dose of fear in him, but tonight all he really wanted was to know you, and he supposed Lady Danbury was just as knowledgeable as Violet Bridgerton about the goings on of the ton.

“What are you doing staring at Lady Montclair?” she demanded.

“Lady Montclair? Is that her name?” Then, vaguely remembering what his mother had said on the carriage ride to the ball, he added, “The one from France?”

Lady Danbury hummed, suspicious of Colin’s enthusiasm. “Yes. Lady Y/N Montclair. Speaking with her brother Lord Louis Montclair. Are you interested?”

“I think I am, yes,” he sighed.

“I do believe she has space left on her dance card,” prompted Lady Danbury, doing very little to hide the fact that she was nudging Colin in your direction.

Once Colin had taken off, Benedict turned to her, not distracted enough to forget decorum as his brother had. “This is a wonderful ball, Lady Danbury. My deepest gratitude to you for inviting us, as always.”

But she only waved his thanks away. “Shush, boy. I’m trying to pay attention to Colin willingly asking a lady to dance for the first time.”

Soft music floated through the ballroom as you laughed quietly with Louis, who seemed to be having a wonderful time terrorizing your mother and refusing to dance with any ladies she introduced to him. The gentle hum of the room was interrupted by the sound of footsteps beside you, and with a polite smile on your face, you turned to greet whoever had approached. Realizing you were face to face with Mr. Colin Bridgerton, your expression immediately turned stony.

Bowing with just the right degree of formality, Colin introduced himself, his charm seemingly effortless. He certainly played the part of a perfect gentleman; you could give him that. But you couldn’t forget his conversation with Mr. Berbrooke, the distasteful words replaying in your mind over and over.

Then, extending his hand to you and tilting his head slightly toward the dance floor, a soft smile on his lips, he asked, “Would you care to dance with me this evening, Lady Montclair?”

Looking at him squarely, you responded, your voice sickly sweet, “Why no, Mr. Bridgerton. I don’t believe I would.”

—

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