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byebyelullabye · 2 years

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seven ~ b.b

benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

benedict bridgerton had been the age of seven the day he met y/n l/n. seven hours later, he declared her his bride.

(inspired by forgive me, a fic by @benedictscanvas !! highly recommend you go read it!!)

a/n: first bridgerton fic!! i was inspired by the fic above but i changed some of the ages to make a bit more sense.

warning: really. really. really bAD wRITINGggg. im really unsure abt this bc im still figuring out my writing style and honestly idk how to write in a regency-like manner so pls feel free to spew feedback :) also im really sorry if this didn't really live up to the hype im still learning how to develop my own voice etc etc so feedback is all the more appreciated <3

masterlist

~ fifteen (part 2)

Benedict Bridgerton had been the age of seven the first time laid his eyes upon seven-year-old Y/n L/n.

It had not been expected. It began as an ordinary day, like any other. At least, as normal as it could be for a member of the great Bridgerton clan. So far there were only four Bridgerton children (though there was no doubt among the Ton there would be more to come): Antony (10), Benedict (7), Colin (3), and little baby Daphne who was turning a year old in just a few weeks.

Breakfast was served, in abundance of course, considering the hefty appetite of the growing Bridgerton boys. Colin would attempt to snatch a piece of pastry from one of his brother’s plates. Daphne would start crying in the middle of the meal, needing the comfort of her mother’s arms. Breakfast would end with full stomachs. Daphne was put to sleep. The boys ran off in different paths, in different pursuits. Then, Lady Bridgerton prepared the drawing room for her incoming guests.

Everyone remembered that day differently, apart from Daphne who barely knew anything at that age. Although Anthony would admit later on that he did not care enough to note any details because he thought it as just an ordinary day. But Benedict, second-born he was, always thought of that day he first saw an angel before his eyes.

When reminiscing upon that day, Benedict was ashamed to think he did not even notice her when he walked into the drawing room. She was there with her mother, Lady L/n. They had been invited by Lady Bridgerton for tea that day, because after all what else are you supposed to do with your charming new neighbors?

The L/n family, composed of Lord and Lady L/n along with their shy young daughter Y/n, spent much of their time traveling before deciding to settle their residence in Mayfair after careful consideration and a longing ache for stability and society. Lady Bridgerton heard about her family's new neighbors from the grapevine of the Ton but never saw them with her own eyes until a week later when they were all settled in the house. Knowing no one among their circle, Lady L/n reached out to the other mothers but was met with that certain brand of indifference that accompanies new change. Lady Bridgerton never tolerated such crass behaviour so she invited her new neighbor and her daughter to her home the next day.

Which leads to where they are now, in the drawing-room of the great Bridgerton House, peacefully sipping tea in between flowing waves of animated conversation between the two ladies. Y/n opted to hide behind her tea cup, now that she could no longer hide behind her mother’s skirt.

Benedict was not even supposed to be in the drawing room but nevertheless, he needed his pencils for his newfound hobby of sketching. Once he entered, however, his pencils were the last things on his mind.

Once his eyes landed on her, his heart raced. His cheeks reddened. His eyes widened. The world silenced. Without a word, thoughts of sketching flew out of his head as he immediately ran to her.

Because she spilled tea on her dress.

In all fairness, it was not her fault. Benedict's younger brother Colin had taken a habit of exploring every new place and every new person that he came upon. Thus, he wanted to startle the new presence in his home by pulling one of the stray locks of her hair. Immediately after, Colin sprinted out of the room to escape the wrath of his mother and brother.

Benedict ran to Y/n's side and kneeled on the ground to pick up the chipped teacup she dropped from the floor. He offered it to her in his outstretched hand.

Before he could scold his brother, Benedict looked into her eyes, and all the world outside them faded. Time slowed. He gasped. His mouth went dry as his jaw dropped. For a second, his heart stopped. Then, all he could hear in his ears was every breath he expelled from his lungs. Butterflies grew forth in his stomach, each wing beating in time with his pounding heart. As if hie eyes were a telescope focusing on a singular point, he gazed upon her and got lost inside the galaxies of her soft doe eyes staring back at him.

Then, she smiled.

Benedict Bridgerton was seven years old the day he fell in love with seven-year-old Y/n L/n.

She looked ethereal. As far as Benedict was concerned, she was ethereal. She wore her aura of warmth like a halo above her head. It glimmered like her eyes, illuminating her god-sculpted features. Her enchanting albeit shy smile shone and melted through his heart. He was in such a daze he could have sworn there were sparks when their fingertips grazed each other once she took the teacup.

He couldn't stop staring at her even if he tried. He didn't really try, anyways. As she stood, he continued to stare at her like a work of art from the first time he stepped foot inside a museum: full of awe, marveling and questioning how he, a mere mortal, was allowed to be in the presence of such beauty.

"Thank you", she whispered in a heavenly melodious voice that took his speech away.

Benedict remained kneeling on the ground before her. Nothing in the world could have stopped him from gaping at her. Not even his own mother, who took hold of his chin to close his mouth. Lady Bridgerton hid her smirk and the twinkle in her eyes behind a well-placed cup of tea as he ran off to compose himself. Lady L/n shared the same look as she took a sip of tea, mirroring Lady Bridgerton's expression.

Y/n was quiet for the rest of the conversation between her mother and Benedict’s. She hadn't touched her cup of tea or any of the pastries laid out. Her eyes wandered all over the drawing room as she tried to amuse herself. She wanted to be interested in her mother's conversation but she did not have the patience for it. Her expression of exponential boredom was painted all over her face and both mothers took notice of this.

“Miss L/n, would you like to play with some of my children? I just had a daughter and I'm afraid she’s still too young to be playing but I’m sure my sons would enjoy your company. Perhaps in the garden?”, Lady Bridgerton asked Y/n, eyeing Benedict who was poorly hiding behind an antique vase, while Y/n's mother brushed away the stray curl Colin pulled on.

Benedict saw her eyes light up, even from afar.

“Please, Mother, may I? Please?”, Y/n pleaded with her mother as she clasped her hands together.

“I do not see any reason why not.” Lady L/n answered cooly, catching Lady Bridgerton's eye.

Without another word, Y/n ran out of the room. She stopped to look at the wide hall and marveled at the art of the house. The arching roof. The cream-painted walls. The elegant curve of the staircase. Her gaze roamed all over as she buzzed excitedly. Eventually, her eyes landed on Benedict who had done nothing to stop hiding nor moved an inch away. His cheeks reddened when she found him, adamantly refusing to look her in the eye.

"Why are you hiding?", she asked him as she stepped closer to examine him, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

He cleared his throat and did his best to meet her gaze, "'m sorry, a gentleman is not supposed to stare."

"You were staring at me? Why? Is there something on my face?" She worried, panic rising in her voice.

"Oh no! Your face is fine", he assured her, "You have a very nice face", he looked back down at the ground after the reality of his afterthought caught up to him.

Y/n stayed quiet for a while, unable to look at him. It is unfortunate that Benedict wasn't able to catch her giddy smile.

"... Thank you", she smiled. For the second time that day, Benedict's heart stopped.

Once he recovered his voice, he apologized. "'m sorry 'bout my brother. He does that to everyone. I hope he didn't tug on your hair too tight."

"I am fine. I'm just glad the lock didn't fall off my head", she said before trailing off. Once she turned her back to him, Benedict came out of his corner. She turned back, however, Benedict was speechless again.

"Can you show the house? At least the playroom? Your mother told me you have gardens" she shyly asked with a small smile.

Benedict held out his hand and she took it as he led her up the stairs. He turned his head so she would not see the tomato red blush blanketing his cheeks. They walked up the stairs quietly, Y/n trailing behind and neither pair of eyes meeting to preserve their coloring.

They were halfway through the steps when mischief struck. Benedict's two brothers, Anthony and Colin (from earlier) saw the entire interaction from the top of the stairs. They were devilish little buggers, as their father would say. So what else do you expect them to do but push Y/n down the stairs as they ran past her?

Benedict was furious. The pair of them reveled in the annoyance of the middle brother and with Y/n’s appearance that day, it attracted their mischief like flies to honey. Benedict helped Y/n to her feet and grabbed her hand to run up the stairs, lest they should run into his brothers again.

Unfortunately, he missed Y/n’s giddy smile again with his insistent running. Not to worry, she smiled all the while they played throughout the day and throughout the garden.

It wasn't until a few hours after (seven hours to be precisely exact) Y/n and her mother had left that Benedict realized he never got her name. That evening, he turned and asked his mother.

"Mother, who was she?"

She looks up from her embroidery. "Who, darling?"

"The angel" He didn't hesitate to answer.

His words caught the attention of everyone in the drawing-room at the present moment. Upon hearing him, they all froze and turned their heads in his direction. (Everyone except Little Colin who was preoccupied with a plate full of cookies). His father, on the other hand, looked up from his newspapers and turned to his wife who smiled knowingly.

"What angel?" His father asked with a curious tone and narrowed eyes.

"The one who visited today", Benedict insisted.

"The one who spilled tea on her dress?", Anthony cheekily inquired before taking a biscuit.

Benedict was about to lunge at his older brother's smug face when Anthony quickly replied, "Because if she's clumsy enough to spill tea on her dress, I don't think she's an angel at all."

"She is an angel! She's too pretty to be like us!" Stomped Benedict exasperatedly.

His father adds pensively, “Perhaps she fell from the heavens.”

“Like she fell down the stairs?” Anthony continued to annoy his younger brother. Like ten-year-olds tend to do.

“You and Colin made her fall down the stairs! That wasn’t her fault!” Benedict continued to stomp his tiny foot.

"Calm down, dear." His mother soothed him as he sat across from her.

"Benedict, why do you want to know her name anyway?" His father inquired as he folded his newspaper.

Benedict stayed quiet before shyly answering. "Well, I simply want to know what to call her the next time I see her."

"What makes you think you are going to be seeing her again?”, Anthony pipes up.

"Darling, how long were our new neighbors here? Weren't they here for hours?" Lord Bridgerton turns to his wife after she shakes her head no, "Benedict, the girl was here for hours and you never asked for her name? Does she know yours?"

"Father, I was too distracted!" Benedict admitted embarrassedly. "She smiled at me!"

His mother, his only ally, answered to her eldest son and husband, “Well, Anthony, my love, I found her mother delightful and I have no doubt that we shall be great friends. Also, we are neighbors, after all. Why Benedict never asked for her name, I have no idea”

“Mother, not you too!" The world spun around too fast for his liking. With an angel appearing before him and his family relentlessly teasing him for his reaction to seeing an angel before him, he was lightheaded.

Out of all the excitement rushing through his veins (or the sour of the moment), Benedict loudly proclaimed, "I am going to visit her tomorrow!”

Once again, the room fell silent. Knowing glances were exchanged between his parents. Anthony kept his smug smirk on his face and Coin continued to eat, oblivious to the conversation of his family around him.

“Dearest, why are you going to her house?", his mother slyly asked.

"Because I want to see her!"

Anthony remarks, "Why?"

"Because I want to see her again!"

"Why?", Anthony repeats.

"So I can talk to her!"

Colin mimicked his brother, asking, "Why?"

Then, Benedict hesitated. A few beats of silence preceded his carefully chosen next words, "...So I can court her…"

At this point, his father had already resigned from the conversation but upon the faithful words, his attention was pulled toward his second son once again.

"Now, why on Earth would you do that?"

Benedict was now beyond exasperated. His head looked like a boiling tea kettle, with the fumes smoking out of his ears and the blood boiling in his face for an entirely different reason from before.

"BECAUSE I AM GOING TO MARRY HER!"

Clack!

Lady Bridgerton dropped her cup of tea.

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silverhallow · 4 months

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Say you’ll remember me

pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett

summary: a drabble for nothing and no real reason it’s more of a summary of a possible story than an actual story if that makes sense…

warnings: none

word count: 600 words

author's note: this isn’t my best work but it’s something my muse was playing with so I’m sharing

'Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.'

Their shared love for Shakespeare, literature, and art initially brought them together, evolving their friendship into a passionate romance marked by stolen kisses and secret rendezvous. What began as an inseparable bond now faced an impending separation, fueled by circumstances beyond their control.

Sophie and Benedict, once the closest of friends turned lovers, found themselves at a crossroads. Sophie's grandfather's passing in America led to a cascade of events, with Richard, her father, compelled to handle the estate. At just 16, Sophie had to accompany him, leaving behind her stepmother but at the cost of parting ways with Benedict.

While Sophie secured acceptance and scholarships at American colleges, but Benedict, with his artistic talents, chose not to follow. He believed she would stay if she got into a school in England. Communication broke down, so as the departure date loomed, they faced the reality of their separation.

Richard had everything organised, and the night before their departure became their last chance to create enduring memories. Benedict, yearning for escape, suggested leaving town and evading the city's constraints. However, the impracticality of such a plan became apparent, as neither could drive, and the forces pulling them apart seemed insurmountable.

As they approached the inevitable parting, neither fought hard to defy destiny. They understood that youth was fleeting, and although destiny and fate might still shape their narrative, they resigned themselves to the transient nature of their connection. Benedict knew that nothing lasts forever and after Sophie's departure, these memories would be the ones that would follow him around.

"Say you’ll remember me," she murmured as the sun began its ascent, the night spent together fading with the dawn. Her lips bore the stain of their kisses, and her rosy cheeks bore witness to the shared experiences that would linger in their minds forever.

In that one evening, they wove the tapestry of first love, first heartbreak, and first times—all condensed into a night that would become a cornerstone of their lives.

"say you'll remember me, standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset," she whispered once more, feeling the embrace of his arms around her, both reluctant to release the other.

"I will, I'll always remember you," he vowed, sensing deep within that no one could compare to her. He hoped fate had a plan, a day when their paths would cross again.

"Promise me, you'll see me again, even if it's just in your wildest dreams," Sophie pleaded, craving something to anchor herself to.

"We will meet again, someday. The memories of tonight will reunite us, guiding us back to where we belong," he declared solemnly as the sun completed its final arc over the horizon, signalling the arrival of a new day.

"Say you'll remember me," they whispered as they parted, a solemn oath etched in their hearts.

Little did they know, ten years later, Sophie would find herself gazing at a painting capturing this very moment—a girl in a beautiful dress, staring at a sunset, titled "I'll Always Remember You."

As the words “I told you I’d remember you…” rang through her ears and her heart

Finally, her wildest dreams would transform into reality.

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benophie #Benophie drabble #benedict x sophie #Benedict bridgerton drabble #ash writes

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merlieve · 2 years

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Yesss I have a Bridgerton request for you! <3 Can you please do an imagine Benedictxwife!Reader where Ben is being a perfect dad to his diamonds of children and the reader is utterly in love with him? Thanks so much in advance! Xx

fearless :: benedict bridgerton x reader

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 & 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧.

𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 | 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐬: 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 (𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞)

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[ Note: had to do this with my baby fever that’s going on right now :sob: ]

It was in the middle of the night when [Name] woke up, she was confused onto why she had awakened randomly. [Name] looked to the right of the bed and to her dismay, her husband, Benedict, wasn't there. And that wasn't the only confusing act, her sleep wasn't interrupted by their children's wails.

Due to her motherly instinct, she immediately ran toward the nursery, not expecting Benedict to be coddling one of their children, but there he was reading a fairytale to one of your children, as one was already tucked in, sleeping soundly.

"- And when the prince realized Cinderella was the mysterious woman he met at the ball, they both rode on his horse, and lived happily ever after," Whispered Benedict to your daughter, who was on the verge of dozing.

"Thank you, papa..." Yawned [Daughter's Name], while she curled up into a snowball position to make herself feel relaxed. "You're welcome, sweetheart," Muttered Benedict, as he placed a soft peck on his daughter's forehead.

"She has your eyes, you know..." Murmured [Name], slowly walking towards her husband to avoid awakening the children. "Aw, you weren't supposed to wake up," Grumbled Benedict, moving his head to the left to face [Name]. "Well, your plan worked terribly, I woke up since sleeping for even a few hours was questionable enough," Laughed [Name], "Still, I appreciate the gesture,"

"You're welcome," Grinned Benedict, looking at [Name] with his doe-eyes that could make anyone swoon. "Don't do that," Whined [Name], covering her eyes with her hands. "Do what?" - "Those eyes!" Whisper-shouted [Name], as Benedict, let out an airy laugh. "What's the matter with my eyes?" Inquired Benedict, knowing precisely what she meant.

"Call me Prince Charming, 'cause I want you to hop on my horse and ride with me to the sunset," Fooled [Name], earning a dissatisfied look from Benedict. "That was hard to hear," - "Like you could do better!" Retorted [Name], tucking her arms together.

"As a matter of fact, I could do better," Stated Benedict, walking closer to his wife. "Bring it on," Challenged [Name]. "It might be better if I show you," Suggested Benedict, grabbing his wife's hand and pulling her out of the nursery, earning a quiet yelp from her. The rest of the night was filled with laughter and romance.

#merlieve’s fics ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #luke thompson #luke thompson x reader #benedict bridgerton drabble #benedict bridgerton x reader fluff

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peterpparkrr · 1 year

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With you, under the mistletoe

peterpparkrr’s 12 days of holiday drabbles

5. Mistletoe + Benedict Bridgerton

Summary: a yuletide kiss with your favorite Bridgerton.

A/N: I feel like Benedict would love Justin Bieber idk maybe that’s just me.

You were standing against the wall in the Bridgerton’s ballroom at Aubrey Hall playing your usual role, the wallflower.

You’d lived just a way down the lane from the Bridgertons all your life. You’d grown up with the Bridgerton brood, and you and your parents had always been invited to the Bridgerton’s Christmas Eve Party for as long as you could remember.

A voice called out your name and you turned around to see Benedict Bridgerton standing behind you, grinning.

“Mr. Bridgerton!” You greeted him with a smile.

“Somehow I knew I’d find you here,” Benedict says with a knowing look.

“I like to be predictable,” You reply. “Imagine how disappointed you’d be if you had to search for me.”

“Would you like to take a turn about the room? If you hide all night no one will dance with you,” He tells you as he holds his arm out for you.

“Is that not the point of hiding?” You ask.

“You don’t wish to dance?”

“No,” You reply. “Not particularly.”

“Not with anyone but you,” Is what you want to say. But you don’t. Because you know that Benedict doesn’t feel the same way. He’s never shown a preference for one lady in particular. He makes his rounds at these parties, dancing with every young lady, just as you suspect his mother requires him to.

“Well, then you ought to come see the Christmas decorations in the hall. The servants truly outdid themselves this time,” He offers.

“Very well,” You reply as you accept Benedict's arm and allow him to lead you out of the busy ballroom and into the quiet hallway.

“Wow,” You murmur as Benedict leads you through the rooms of Aubrey Hall, pointing out various decorations as you slip further and further from the rest of the party.

Your favorite room is the Bridgerton’s private drawing room. You assume this is where thee family will open their gifts tomorrow morning, as there’s already a large pile in the middle of the room. But the walls are lined with evergreen branches, springs of holly, and trimmed with ribbon and baubles.

“You were right, these are delightful,” You say as you take in the splendor around you. “I love holly.”

“I know,” Benedict replies as he comes to join you in a corner of the room. “It was embroidered on the gown you wore last year.”

“I’m surprised you remember that,” You reply as you glance back at him.

Benedict looked like he wanted to say something else. Instead, he stops in his tracks, and places a hand on your arm to get your attention as he glances up.

“Oh look, a kissing bough,” He says as innocently as he can manage.

Your eyes snap up. You feel your cheeks warm as you look back at Benedict who is watching your reaction and your eyes widen.

“You knew we were standing beneath it!” You hiss in disbelief. “You are a terrible liar, Benedict Bridgerton.”

“A gentleman, tricking a lady into relinquishing a kiss? I would never,” Benedict replies as his hand comes up to tentatively cradle your cheek.

You know you ought to move away. If someone were to see you in a compromising position like this your mother would have a conniption. But you don’t.

When Benedict realizes that you’ve allowed him to keep his hand where it is his thumb strokes your cheekbone gently.

You narrow your eyes at him.

“It’s tradition,” He adds.

“When are you ever traditional?” You ask as you gaze up at him.

“When the tradition gives me an excuse to do this,” He replies as he leans in and his lips brush yours.

Benedict Bridgerton is kissing you.

It’s a tentative kiss. But you can’t help but sigh before your find that you’re own hands are wrapping around the back of Benedict's neck as he moves to pull you closer and this kiss deepens.

When you finally break apart Benedict rests his forehead against yours and smiles.

“Merry Christmas,” Benedict whispers softly.

“Merry Christmas, Benedict,” You reply before you tilt your chin up and press your lips to his again.

#peterpparkrr's holiday drabbles #12 days of holiday drabbles #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton drabble #benedict bridgerton reader insert

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mothdruid · 2 years

Note

#11 “I know it’s 2 in the morning but do you want to…” from Prompt list for Benedict

mmmmmmm, i modified the prompt a tiny bit to fit the era. this was a really enjoyable prompt though!

Benedict's hands wrapped around your waist, smirking as lips peppered your skin. You melted back against him, leaning into his chest. Benedict wore a large billowed shirt, barely buttoned up, as you were in a simple thin night gown. Your trip to Aubrey Hall had contained many hidden touches and kisses but nothing like this.

A hand slowly trailed from your waist to your breast, squeezing lightly and making you gasp. His tongue lapped at the skin of your neck, trailing up to the sensitive spot below your ear. His other hand pressed overtop your night gown onto your mound, rubbing his fingers heavily on you. "What are you doing up so late?"

You bite back a moan as your hips rolled into his hand. "I-I couldn't sleep, I kept thinking about you."

He let out his own moans when you rolled your hips back against him, feeling his own hardened length in his pants. He let go of you and pawed at your night gown, pulling it up enough for him to slip his hand under it. His fingers found your folds, slipping between them and rubbing at your clit.

"I know it’s the middle of the night but would you like to...?" Benedict kept rubbing circles on your clit as you rolled you head back onto his shoulder.

"Yes." And with that simple word Benedict was pulling you over to the sofa couch.

#moth talk #abby answers #anon #benedict bridgerton #benedict brigderton smut #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict bridgerton drabble #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fic #bridgerton fic

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newfoundstateof · 2 years

Text

miss woodhouse | benedict bridgerton

summary: an Emma retelling because I just watched Emma. (2020) - friends to lovers excellence yada yada yada

word count: 2.7k

warnings: none, this is a family show

a/n: I messed with the timeline. Francesca marries before Anthony (big change), Eloise has the dog grooming pamphlet by episode one events (tiny change)

- - - -

Y/N Woodhouse, handsome and clever, had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.

Although unmarried, you are the head of the Hartfield estate as your mother had passed on when you were very young and your elder sister married a few years prior. Mister Henry Woodhouse, your father whom you loved earnestly, is a kind-hearted man but unfit to handle all of Hartfield’s affairs.

And despite not being introduced into society yourself, you have a knack for gossip especially when it came to the marriages of the ton.

“Have you bought the latest Whistledown?” you demand once you reach the Bridgerton drawing room.

“Not even a hello? Or good morning?” Benedict laughs, setting down his tea and rising from his chair to greet you. He is the only person in the room.

“You did not answer my question,” you press. You hold out her hand, and Benedict takes it to place a quick kiss upon it. “I was too overwhelmed this morning with the accounts to promenade-”

“Not that you would need to since you have yet to make your debut for a reason still unknown to me,” Benedict cuts in.

“-with your family and pick up an issue,” you finish. “But I also do not think it cost-effective for your family to purchase her pamphlet and myself when we can simply share.”

Benedict sighs, much too used to your obsession with the gossip column.

“Well?” you ask.

“Well what?” he shoots back with a glint in his eye. Oh, the things he does to get a rise out of you.

“Where’s Lady Whistledown? You always buy me a copy when I am unable to do so myself.”

Rushing over to the coffee table, you ruffle through the papers and pamphlets that lay there.

“This seems like a breach of privacy to me,” Benedict says.

“Why are you in possession of a dog grooming booklet?” You grumble, tossing it over your shoulder in frustration that it is not a Lady Whistledown’s Society Paper.

“You won’t find it there,” he chuckles.

Your head shoots up.

“I have had a very long morning, Bridgerton,” you say. “Do not play games with me.”

Benedict snorts. “Oh, that is rich coming from your scheming mouth, Woodhouse.”

“I prefer strategic,” you say lightly, strolling toward him. “Remind me, again, who predicted that my sister and Mister Knightly would be well suited?”

“You did,” he concedes.

“And Daphne and Hastings?”

“Also you.”

You stop directly in front of him. The two of you would have been chest to chest if he were not so tall.

“And Felicity and Mister Finch?”

“They’ve not wed yet,” he argues.

“But, they will,” you insist with a smile. “So, how could I possibly be playing a silly game when genuine love matches are the result?”

“Sometimes you are just as ridiculous as Lady Whistledown,” Benedict snorts but there is a bite behind his words.

Benedict often joked and called you foolish and meddling. Not that he was Mister Serious. That would be Anthony. But, he always poked fun in a loving way. Maybe you had finally exhausted him though you could not understand why.

“Someday,” you say, bringing your gloved hand up to pat his chest. “I hope to correctly predict whom you will marry.”

Under your touch, he stiffens and the timing could not have been more perfect. With all the agility you can muster, you slide your fingers under his jacket, feel the sharp edge of paper, and grab hold.

“Ha!” you shriek with a laugh, pulling away from him.

Benedict groans as you throw yourself down on a love seat, engrossed in Whistledown’s words of wisdom.

“A new family!” you say to yourself giddily. “The Sharmas, how capitol.”

“Nothing you could not deduce yourself at the ball tonight,” Benedict points out, sitting down next to you.

“But it is so much more fun going in prepared,” you say, settling up against him.

You cannot exactly place when you and Benedict had become so close. Your relationship with the Bridgerton family was peculiar as a whole.

At the balls you begged your father to take you to when you were younger, you had made a friend in Francesca. After spending the majority of your time with girls who gossipped as much as you, you soon grew weary of the twisted tales that were told to you. You preferred to get down and dirty to the root of a scandal yourself. Francesca was much quieter than you but did not object when you brought her along on all your investigations.

Then she had married – something even you had not been able to predict. Without her, you were without a friend at the balls and soirees.

You and Anthony could not have been friends in a million years as neither of you could stand each other’s disposition. And for reason unbeknownst to you, Benedict practically avoided your company. Eloise disliked social events and rarely joined her family. And Daphne was too focused on finding a match to notice you wandering about events, hand drawing shapes on the wall just to do something.

But Colin Bridgerton had noticed. Had maybe even been instructed by Francesca to keep you company. It was nice to have an ally amongst the season’s madness, and you often shared multiple dances a night to keep away suitors for each other.

Alas, Colin left for his tour months ago, and you once again occupied the outskirts of parties.

You were pouring yourself a third cup of lemonade when you felt a shift in the air. Someone was hovering behind you.

“Miss Woodhouse?”

You silently cursed, hoping no one would ask you to dance.

Turning around, you were met with the bashful smile of Benedict Bridgerton.

“Oh, Benedict,” you said, surprised. “Or um, Mister Bridgerton!”

“How are you?” he asked.

“I am well,” you say reflexively.

An awkward pause filled the space between the two of you.

“Have you heard from Colin?” He asked.

“Yes,” you replied with a smile. “It sounds like he is having a capitol time!”

“He has written similar sentiment to me,” Benedict said. “He also asked me how you have been, and I realized how rude it has been of me not to keep you more company.”

“Oh, do not waste your night with me on behalf of your brother,” you said with a dismissive wave.

“It would not be a waste,” he insisted. “I… want to keep you company.”

“That is very kind of you.”

You smile at the distant memory. Although you enjoyed your time getting to know Colin and Francesca, you must admit you feel most at home with Benedict.

“You know,” Benedict says, poking your cheek, bringing you back to the present. “With your passion for gossip and matchmaking, some may believe you to be Lady Whistledown.”

Smirking, you reply, “That would not be the first time someone has pointed a finger toward me. However, I must admit that the genius woman is not me, and I secretly despise her for concocting such an idea before I could think of it.”

You slap the paper onto Benedict’s chest, making him breathe out a soft oof.

“I am afraid I must be off now,” you announce, standing up. “First ball of the season and all.”

“You do know that you have no obligation to go since you’re not looking for a husband,” Benedict says, setting down the pamphlet and standing to walk you out. “Why is that, again?”

“I believe that I have not told you in the first place,” you laugh. “But, you already know I cannot leave my poor father.”

Leading you down the stairs, Benedict huffs. “I am sure that you can find a man willing to move into Hartfield. Or willing to let your father live with you.”

“I am not so sure,” you say although that is a lie.

As the two of you reach the front door, Benedict asks, “Off to the modiste, then?”

“No,” you sigh. “Off to back home. I cannot find it in our budget to buy a new dress for the next month at least.”

He hesitates but says, “I could buy you a dress if you would allow it.”

The offer hangs in the air a moment too long.

The soft look in his eye unnerves you more than you like to admit. Reminding you of the exact reason you cannot make your debut: you cannot see any other match for yourself other than Benedict. But, he has never made the slightest hint that he wishes to court you. He is simply a gentleman. A close friend at that.

It would bring you too much pain to find a lifelong partner at the same time as Benedict. So, you would abstain from partaking in the season until he was married. No longer a possibility.

“That is very kind of you… but I cannot let you do that. I have plenty of dresses.”

He nods. “I will see you tonight?”

“You will see me tonight.”

- - - -

“I should think Miss Sharma would suit well with Anthony,” you say in a conspiratorial whisper to Benedict.

He hands you a glass of lemonade. “You are already so sure?”

“Positive.” You nod fervently. “Both eldest siblings. Both have an intense air to them. And both are looking at each other as if they already know the other! What clearer of a sign of true love can one ask for?”

Benedict shrugs. “I don’t see it.”

“Just wait a fortnight, then you’ll see that I knew it all along.”

He looks around the room and turns back to you.

“And who would you match with me? Miss Edwina Sharma?”

You almost choke on your lemonade.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious… so, is that a no?”

Your eyes scan the room to find Edwina in conversation with Lady Danbury. Her pink dress was quite pretty. She was quite pretty. You quickly flick your gaze to see if Benedict is admiring her, too, but his eyes are set on you.

“It’s not a no,” you admit. “She seems lovely. I would not be surprised if she is named the diamond of the season. And you, of all the eligible bachelors, deserve a diamond.”

Benedict studies your forced smile.

“Do you wish to dance with her?” you ask.

“Should you think I ask?” he replies, answering your question with a question.

You sniff. “You are your own person. I think you can decide for yourself.”

“Now, that is a first from you.”

You have had enough. With a polite grin, you take Benedict’s lemonade, causing his eyebrows to crinkle.

“Why did you-”

You stomp on the foot closest to you, giving him a resounding and satisfying Hm. Setting down the glasses on a nearby table, you march away, ignoring the curious stares of the souls lucky enough to witness such an outburst. Tomorrow, you are sure that Lady Whistledown will document it for the people unfortunate enough to miss it.

“Y/N!” Benedict calls after you, but you don’t turn around to see him limping after you.

The front doors are opened for you, and you almost trip down the stairs with the haste that has built up in your steps. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Miss Sharma quite distressed with Anthony Bridgerton. Maybe you were wrong after all and losing your touch.

Veering away from the unhappy pair, you collapse on a bench.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” you gasp aloud.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Benedict echoes, having already caught up with you albeit panting.

“Go away,” you whine, rubbing your gloved hands over your eyes. “I can only be vexed so many times in a single day.”

“I am sorry,” Benedict says, continuing to stand to give you your space. “I did not mean to upset you.”

“You seem to resent me,” you cry out. “If you dislike my company so much, then I am not forcing your hand to spend time with me. If I recall correctly, you said you wanted to-”

“I do not dislike your company,” he argues. “I revel in it. You are my favorite person.”

“And you are mine,” you whisper.

Slowly, Benedict walks up to you and sits. “Why do you think I resent you?”

“I don’t really,” you admit, looking at your toes. “But your teasing… it makes me feel as if you do. Just sometimes.”

“I did not know I had gone too far,” he says, reaching for your hand. He gives it a quick squeeze but, to your disappointment, drops it promptly. “It was never my intent to make you feel small.”

Finally, you let your eyes meet his. Benedict looks at you the way he always does. Your heart sinks, knowing that his feelings will never change, but you still find comfort in his gentle gaze.

“I am sorry that I stomped on your foot,” you chuckle.

“I suppose I deserved it,” he admits.

You attempt to object, but he does not let you.

“I do resent a small part of you…”

Your heart sinks further. You can feel your friendship slipping from your hands like delicate sand.

“I resent the part of you that does not love me as I love you,” he says. He smiles, but his eyes are sad.

“Benedict-”

“There’s no need to try and comfort me,” he says with a shrug. “I had accepted it a long time ago. But, I was hoping maybe your mind had changed.”

You were too stunned to correct him, so he went on.

“I just thought it so twisted how you were a master at matchmaking but could not realize what a perfect match was right under your nose. The two of us… It was wickedly ironic. With enough teasing, I stupidly believed that I could make you realize that we are well suited. I am sorry to play such games.”

“You took a page out of my own book,” you mumbled and he nodded. “But you did not need to employ such tactics because I already knew that we would be a perfect match.”

At that, Benedict immediately brightens.

“You don’t mean to say-”

“I guess I am always right,” you smirk. “My games, my scheming, my belief that I always know best and that people sometimes need a little push in the right direction.”

Benedict laughs. “I cannot believe that I love you.”

“That is very kind of you.”

Reaching out to cup your cheek, he whispers, “I beg of you to say it back.”

“Say what back?”

Benedict leans in, his lips barely brushing yours. His breath dusting your own lips. “Do I need to draw it out of you?”

“Perhaps.”

Accepting that as invitation, his soft lips meet yours. Both of you stubborn, you fight over who has more control, pushing and pulling from each other. Your hands come up and bury themselves in his thick hair. His hands hind the sides of your face, thumbs stroking your skin softly although he is kissing you in a way that can be described in any way but soft.

Finally, you both catch your breath, leaning on the other’s forehead for support.

“Fine,” you say, with a small gasp. “I love you, too.”

You smile at each other.

“I love you so much,” you confess before initiating the second of many kisses.

- - - -

Gentle Reader,

The first official match of the season has been made. Although Y/N Woodhouse has not yet (and not ever) made her debut, This Author has it on good authority to announce that our local matchmaker has paired herself with the second eldest Bridgerton, Mister Benedict.

A curious match indeed – especially if one was fortunate enough to see the performance Miss Woodhouse put on at the first ball of the season when she stamped her footprint on Benedict Bridgerton’s left foot. This Author thinks it is safe to say the love birds reconciled quickly. A hopeful sign of a future happy marriage.

Thus marks the third match of the Bridgerton family. Tick Tock, Viscount Bridgerton. It is now more than likely that the Viscount will become an uncle before he is to become a groom.

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers

- - - -

a/n: Hope you enjoyed dear reader, this was very fun to write ;)

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton drabble #bridgerton netflix #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict x you #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton comfort #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x reader #grace writes!

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ofstarsandvibranium · 1 year

Text

Random Benedict Bridgerton Drabble #2

A/N: another vampire au cause why tf not

You sit in a thin robe by the fire, reading a book. Benedict sits at his chair, a glass of blood in his hands. You look up at him and his eyes are already on you.

"What?" you ask.

"I've been thinking-"

"How dangerous."

He smirks at you and you giggle. He continues, "I know I've rejected the idea of turning you...but I've thought about changing my mind."

You shut your book, sitting up a bit straighter now, "Really?"

He places his glass onto a table beside him. He gestures for you to approach him and you do. You take a seat on his lap, hands resting on his shoulders. His cold hands slip under your robe and take hold of your waist.

"Our arrangement was temporary but...I want to be selfish. I want to have you forever, but I can't ask that of you."

You cup Benedict's face and his eyes close, relishing in your warmth, "What if you're not asking? What if I want this on my own volition? My only fear is that you'd grow tire of me."

Benedict grips you a little tighter, "I would never. I want you...always."

#benedict bridgerton drabble #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #vampire!benedict bridgerton #vampire!benedict #vampire au #bridgerton au

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fiction-is-life · 9 months

Note

Ooo bickering prompts? The one about reading in bed is adorable ☺️ I could see Benedict being all “please, I’m trying to sleep and you keep gasping and shouting at your book.” Then they’d probably either ridicule each other’s hobbies OR he’d say he can give her something better to gasp and shout about 😉😁

Love this prompt! Thank you for the request and hope you are doing well! Benedict would get soooo annoyed, lol, here you go!!!

You felt his eyes on you, but you couldn't look away from the grisly tale splashed across the pages of your novel. He sighed and let his warm hand creep across your midriff. You leaned into him, but your eyes didn't leave the pages.

Benedict pulled you closer and laid his head on the pillow, closing his eyes finally. You scratched his head absentmindedly as you turned the page.

Half an hour past and Benedict had almost fallen asleep, but he was jarred awake at your shout. He shot up. "What? What happened?" he asked, panicked.

Your mouth hung open slightly, no answer falling out of it for a moment. "That's it? That's how the author ends the book?" you practically scream, making your husband sigh in relief that you were ~ physically ~ alright.

He drug his hand down his face. "(Y/N)...haven't we talked about this before? No reading in bed," he rasped with his sleepy voice.

You pouted. "I remember talking about that, but I know I didn't agree to it, Benedict."

He groaned, but threw his best puppy dog eyes at you. "Don't you care about your poor husband's rest? How can I get 40 winks with this candle burning all night?" he whined.

"Aw, you poor baby, you can't sleep? What about when you keep me up all night while you sketch?" you mocked him playfully, grabbing his cheeks and giving them a squeeze.

He batted your hands away, growling. The next thing you knew he had pinned your arms above your head, his lithe body hovering over yours.

"How about I give you something to shout about, wife? Make you forget about that stupid book."

You smirked. "What book?"

#answered asks #lovely moots 💕#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton drabbles #bridgerton fanfiction

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wysteria-clad · 2 years

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Strawberry kisses - a drabble

paring: Benedict x wife! reader

warnings: none. domestic fluff, cheesy af

requested by @claudiajacobs

"hiii could I have a benedict+baking together drabble, please?? thank you 💕"

a/n: I hope you like this one, lovely 💗

gif credit: @vengerb3rg

You stretched your arm to reach the top shelf. You loved baking, you shooed the cook and the kitchen staff out of the kitchen, wanting to bake for your husband with your own hands.

Why does the sugar had to be on that shelf again?

But you were determined, you balanced yourself on your toes, one hand holding on to the kitchen slab. Too engrossed, you didn't notice your sneaky husband approaching you from behind with a cheeky grin.

Here you are, he was looking for you everywhere.

A short gasp escaped your lips when he slid his arms around your waist. The short moment of confusion melted away after your recognised his familiar touch and scent—cinnamon with a hint of tobacco.

"Ben!" you smiled as he pulled you against his chest and kissing the side of your neck.

"Need a hand, love?" before you could open your mouth, he moved your hands from your neck and waist. Firmly holding you by your waist, he lifted you up, easily leveling you with the shelf you needed sugar from.

You grabbed the sugar jar and placed it next to the bowl of fresh strawberries.

He leaned forward pressing you against a wall, his brilliant blue eyes peering yours— a lovely shade of calming blue, your fingers move to touch his cheek, as if in instinct. He memorized all the tiny details in your face once again, your little scars from accidental tiny cuts, blemishes, that tiny mole near your left eyebrow decorating your face like constellations of stars. The pad of your thumb softy and gently caressing under his eye.

He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in his whole life, as if you were walking embodiment of early morning sunrays. In his eyes, you were, you are.

You knew that look very well. His skilled, hand carefully made way up to rest on neck, his artistic fingers padded along the soft skin of your collar bone.

Art. You are an art.

You leaned closer, your lips hovering over his mouth, so close, just a silk thread gap. He closed his eyes, swallowing and his adam's apple bobbed in anticipation. You smirked, a teasing glint shimmering in your eyes. At the last moment, you turned your head to place a sloppy kiss on his cheek instead and pulled away from him with a wide grin.

An amused look befell on his face. "My wife is a cruel, cruel, mistress" he looked at you feigning hurt, reaching out to pull you back in his arms again and he did. He proceed to pepper all over your face with kisses—so light and feathery.

You closed your eyes bursting into a fit of giggle. He smiled to himself at that lovely sound reverberating from your body. He then kissed your jaw, jawline and under your jaw. "The staff will look, Ben!" you playfully chide him and shyly shaking your head slightly.

"Let them watch" he peered at you gently. "I will let the whole world witness how much I adore my beautiful wife"

"You are so...."

"Charming? Enchanting, perhaps?"

"Oh, you!" you shook your head, leaping up and capturing your husband's lips with yours fervently.

Your barefoot swayed slightly as he kissed you back with same glowing passion, his arms firm on your waist. You pulled back after few moments to get back to your original plan. "Now, now Mr. Bridgerton, i must get back to bake cupcakes" you said smiling at him and placing a strawberry in your mouth to take a bite.

"Oh, I love strawberries" he confessed, cupping your face and leaning closer and bit the half strawberry from your lips, wiping the juice off your chin and sucking his thumb.

Your face flushed and you bit your lip. "My God, Ben! I will never get the work done with you". You began to grab his shoulders and push him out of the kitchen in a 'shoo' motion.

"I will behave properly and i will not distract you, i assure you"

"Liar" you chuckled, shaking your head playfully at him. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Anything you want, my sweet wife" he smiled at you innocently.

You knew the look on his face was anything but innocence.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton drabble #bridgerton

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silverhallow · 3 months

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Bridgerton drabble: A Princess Diaries AU

Part #1 Sophie’s Choice.

A belated birthday gift for @bridgertonbabe and @sophiebernadotte

Wasn’t life as a princess supposed to be fair? Or maybe not fair, that might be the wrong word. She was privileged, she knew that… even if she had only known she was a princess for a few short years.

Royalty led lives that were in the public eye, normally having been raised in that environment, but here she was… sitting in a country that she’d only known about for 4 years, listening to her grandmother scolding her for jeopardising the wedding that was to take place in a few days time, which would then lead onto her coronation a week after that and it was all Sophie could do not to throw up or cry because she knew her grandmother was right… she had ruined everything.

She’d always dreamt she’d marry for love, that she’d find a man that made her stomach fizz, give her butterflies, that would make her heart skip a beat and her palms sweaty and her feet pop when she kissed him. She wanted the kind of love her mother had told her about, that her mother had experienced but due to the unfairness of her situation, it was an arranged marriage or lose her throne. Those were her options.

A throne that until she turned 16, she had known nothing about.

She had been blissfully unaware that her father had been a Prince… Prince of a tiny country in the middle of the Italian and French sea. Her mother had kept it from her, taking that secret with her to her grave.

Her mother had died 10 weeks before Sophie’s 16th birthday, which was the day her entire life changed.

She’d been stopping with her best friend Kate Sharma and Sophie had been in English when the poshest woman Sophie had ever seen in her life came in and dropped the bombshell of all bombshells on her over a cup of tea…

Which she promptly spat all over her “grandmother's” face.

She was a princess.

A bastard princess but a princess nonetheless, and the only living descendant of the Gunningworth line.

Her father, Richard, had passed away 9 months earlier and to Sarah’s knowledge he had been childless.

It was only after discovering something in her late-husband’s writing desk, did she learn that there was in fact an heir.

Her.

Sophie was saving the country from being taken over by the Cavender’s. Their son Phillip had a terrible temper and an even worse reputation at just 17 years old and had once been rulers of their own lands until the people revolted and won back their lands and banished the Cavender’s but their royal blood was connected to Penwood and now it was Sophie, or the Cavender’s and Sarah was determined that her throne would not pass into their hands.

She had learned that Reginald had sent Esme away when she was pregnant with Sophie, he didn’t want a child out of wedlock and he certainly didn’t want the Crown Prince, only Heir to the Throne marrying a commoner and so she’d been paid off and shipped off back to England. He provided money monthly to keep Esme quiet and Esme had been promised that she and her unborn child would be left alone and the secret of Sophie’s birth went to the grave with her.

Reginald had known about Sophie and he had been working out how to tell his wife that they did in fact have an heir and where they could find her, and what had happened, his own guilt weighing in after he’d pressured Richard into a marriage with a woman that bore no children between them other than two step-children who could not inherit the throne but when Reginald died 3 months after Richard it had thrown a spanner in the works as he’d not gotten around to telling Sarah the truth.

Sophie was dumbfounded.

Sarah was Regent, as they had their heir but she was underage and she was able to prevent Cavender getting his hands on the crown.

Since Sophie was underage she would learn the role, but upon turning 20 Sophie was told she’d have to take over the throne, she would get 6 months post her 20th birthday to marry and be crowned Queen otherwise, Cavender would take over.

So Life changed.

Gone were the days she was invisible, where she could blend into the background with Kate, sitting laughing about Shakespere and just being a teenage girl to…

Being a Princess.

She stayed in school but Kate was almost glued to her side. She worked at her studies, she travelled back and forth between the countries as she learned.

Once she was 18, Sophie moved to Penwood and Kate and her family came with her, they’d been her family when she had no one else and Kate wanted to work with Sophie, for Sophie as part of her staff once she’d graduated from University.

And Sophie knew from the moment she moved to her new home that she wanted to be Queen, that she would do anything to be Queen. Her beautiful country that she was learning to love, the rich culture and history that was hers to protect and nourish and the more time she spent there, the more she got to know the people, the more she knew she wanted to be Queen.

So between her studies, her Queen lessons with her Grandmother and getting to know the country’s leaders, she was starting to look for a husband.

Not just any husband, she needed someone titled, not in line for their own throne, someone who understood her importance as Queen. Someone harmless, inoffensive, who would stand there by her side and be a pillar of strength and a symbol but would let Sophie lead.

She would be Queen, and she knew finding a husband would be hard but she had time… or so she’d assumed. She was only 18 after all, she had two years. How hard could it be?

From the moment the plane touched down, Sophie knew that whatever she’d thought her life was going to be like, nothing compared to the circus it was becoming

18 turned into 19 and Sophie had still not found someone that she wanted to marry, any male around her age that would be eligible was not interested in marriage, any man she met at a bar knew who she was and wanted a piece of her as a trophy.

She was to be Queen… Everyone knew that. “Your highness, you must know there isn’t a man on this planet who isn’t interested in marrying you, but it is finding the right person for you who will make your everyday life easier, who makes the mundane fun and who makes you smile” her Prime Minister Edmund Bridgerton had told her as the days got closer to her 20th birthday and she had still not found someone to be her husband, time was running out and she was getting desperate.

“That is all well and good my Lord but I have 6 months, we have 6 months to make this work or everything has been in vain” Sophie sighed during their weekly meeting. Sophie loved meeting her prime minister, They had joked on a number of occasions it was a shame that his title came with his position and didn’t transfer to his children since he had eight of them and the two eldest boys were a little older than Sophie and Kate, she’d yet to meet Benedict who was off travelling and studying and she got on well with Anthony, who was training to take over from Charlie as the Royal Household Chief of Security once Sophie ascended to the throne.

The little wrinkle there was Anthony was dating Kate. Kate was working up to the role of Chief of Staff within the palace and eventually they would run the palace between them and despite their prickly start, Sophie thought they were perfect for one another but it served as an almost daily reminder that she didn’t have that and she needed that. 6 months to fall in love, marry to become Queen…

“There are other ways around it, your grandmother is reluctant to bring it up because she knew how much you wanted to find someone the traditional way but there is always an arranged marriage, I am sure between Ms Gibbons, your grandmother and my wife Violet, they’ll be able to come up with a list of possibilities for you. Aim for friendship first, it worked for your grandmother… love everything else, it is lovely but friendship and companionship will hold you in just as good a stead” Edmund explained

“That’s easy for you to say, you married the love of your live and have 8 children” Sophie replied flippantly but sighed “but I shall think about it, it is likely to be the only option”

“Speaking of my children…” Edmund grinned and Sophie rolled her eyes

“Smooth… what are they after this time?”

“It’s nothing actually just Benedict is back from his travels eventually this weekend after being away for the last two years studying and he is on the last portfolio for his masters and I was wondering if perhaps as a small favour we could add him to your official photographers list up to the coronation and allow him to capture some more… candid photos of the next few months”

“Why not, some candid ones will be lovely I guess after all the formal things…” Sophie said “and i’ll make sure there is a ticket to my 20th birthday party for him as well, if he is back in time that is, it would be nice to meet another of your ridiculous brood. but I will give some thought to your suggestion, having some of those possible bachelors come to the party and meet them…” Sophie sighed.

But after the events of her 20th birthday, Sophie had known it was time.

The only person she’d met the night of her birthday party, the only person she’d felt a connection with had been someone she knew she had no chance with.

She’d been walking through the party, trying to get away from Prince Hans and his incessant staring, as well as Lady Rosamund who was making snide quiet remarks about how it should be her that was going to be queen when Sophie had run straight into a stranger stomping straight on his foot, the most handsome stranger she’d ever met.

It was only after she’d danced and flirted with him and spoke to Kate, did she realise that it was Benedict Bridgerton and it had broken her heart almost instantly.

She’d assumed he was one of the many suitors her grandmother had invited for to meet so to realise who he was, that he was untitled, he was, despite being the son of a Lord, not someone Sophie could ever hope to get to know on a more intimate and romantic level… she knew based on the rules that had been set out for her future husband, it was a no go.

So the morning after her party, she’d called Kate, her grandmother, Ann Gibbons the current chief of staff and Mary and said “it’s time”

A week later she was sitting in the palace movie room with the screens up, profiles up as she looked through all the eligible bachelors that would be interested in an arranged marriage.

Two hours it had taken, going through picture after picture before Sophie had spotted one.

Yes he was a second son but he fit the bill where no one else did. He was the second son of a Duke. His older brother was already married and had twins, their line was secure, he was a Sir. He had a title, a ceremonial one but all the same…

Sir Phillip Crane was everything that Sophie had been looking for.

He was the same age as she was, he was academic, he was cute. He was someone that Sophie could see herself being at least friends with…

It was a start.

And it had turned out Phillip was everything that Sophie could have hoped for. He was kind, he was funny and they seemed to have a lot in common and Sophie knew she’d made the best possible choice…

Or she would have thought so if it wasn’t for Benedict being everywhere she went.

She’d forgotten about her agreement with the Prime Minister and being Anthony’s brother, and he seemed to get on really well with Kate. he was always there.

The torment Sophie felt was horrible, she felt attracted to Benedict in a way she knew she’d never be attracted to Phillip but she knew that she could never be with Benedict and have the life she so desperately wanted.

She wanted to be Queen, she wanted to rule this country that she’d learned so much about, that she was so passionate about and she was close to mucking it all up.

Two weeks before the wedding it all came to a head when during the summer party, Sophie had slipped away from Phillip, leaving him with Kate and Benedict’s sister Eloise as she wanted to get out of her head. Cavender’s son had been lurking and making lurid remarks about her and she just wanted 5 minutes.

She’d given her ladies maids the slip, and was just sitting on the edge of the fountain, trying not to hyperventilate.

She’d not seen Benedict at all during the party, he was employed during these events to take photos as part of her agreement with his father and she knew that it was the last thing she needed. Whilst she desperately craved him to soothe her frayed nerves, she knew being around him was making it worse.

They’d had many a spirited debate about Bryon, about poetry and art and she always seemed to know when he appeared, her skin tingled and pricked but he knew as well as she did, that whatever there was between them, wasn’t possible.

With the way the rules of the country where, fate was destined to keep them apart.

But that day… he’d caught her unaware, they’d given into a moment of weakness and kissed.

It was only when Sophie’s beloved dog Bernie, had come running through the fence with voices behind him, that they’d separated and in their shock at nearly being caught, they had tumbled into the fountain.

It had been the start of her downfall.

She’d confined Kate how she felt about Benedict, how she wished things could be different and she knew that Benedict had felt the same and how she couldn’t have him around her anymore because it was breaking her heart.

Benedict had agreed to step away, to leave his position because he knew the country needed Sophie more than he did and he would never have forgiven himself to do anything that would have ruined her dream to be Queen,

But he’d asked if he could see her one last time before he left, before he walked away and Sophie would marry Phillip and Sophie had agreed as long as no one found out.

But someone had found out. Someone had overheard and warned the press that if someone followed the Prime Minister’s son… they would find a scandal.

And whilst it wasn’t as big of a scandal as it could have been, Sophie and Benedict had just talked, shared a kiss or two, they’d fallen asleep under a tree in the grounds of the castle and it was upon waking that they’d been spotted…

And Sophie was sure her life was going to fall apart.

Sarah yelled at her for over an hour about it, about how she should not be sneaking out and despite the fact she knew how her granddaughter felt about him, she could see how devastated Sophie was about the choice.

Heart or country.

It was a choice she’d known all too well but Sophie knew what she wanted.

What was required of her… it was just a matter of if Phillip would still want to marry her.

“Phillip wait, please! Let me explain! Nothing happened” Sophie said as she ran after Phillip a few hours later after he’d arrived at the palace so they could talk.

“Yes but you went Sophie, you still went didn’t you?” he replied, his voice was strangely calm and not angry and Sophie wasn’t sure if she’d rather he’d been angry or not “I don’t think you understand… despite my geekiness as the press back home call it, I am an extremely eligible bachelor” he said, though Sophie could tell he cringed a bit at the words, knowing he didn’t like to big himself in that way. “I really am. I’ve got plenty of friends, lots of lovely… erm women friends” he said gesturing as they looked at one another

“But i… I still think marriage is a good idea.” he said and Sophie looked up at him in disbelief as Phillip’s face softened as they looked at one another,

“Sophie…” he said, before taking a step forward, placing his hands on either side of her face and kissing her.

It was the first time they’d properly kissed, it had been a brief kiss on the lips when they’d gotten engaged, the same on the balcony when they announced their engagement several weeks ago and as kisses went…

It was the most awkward kiss either of them had ever experienced.

It was like kissing a sibling. It was so awkward Sophie was sure the entire world stopped moving and she could hear the cows in the field several miles away Mooing…

Eventually Phillip pulled away and Sophie with her eyes still shut brought her hand to her lip to almost wipe the kiss off as she had Phillip looked at one another again

“So?” he asked “anything?” already anticipating the answer.

“It was lovely… just… there was no…” Sophie said

“Spark?” they said at the same time and Sophie groaned as she knew what the right thing to do was.

“What are we going to do?” Sophie said her voice breaking a little as she felt herself close to tears. The wedding was a few days away, she’d come this far and now she’d thrown it all away.

Phillip sighed and took a step forward putting an arm around Sophie’s waist, rolling his eyes as the security guards shovelled up the stairs behind them

“No privacy…” Sophie grumbled.

“Sophie… you chose me… and I accepted” he said pressing an almost brotherly kiss on her head “I accepted and so we’re going to stand up in the church next week and say “I do” and become man and wife… and then you’re going to be crowned Queen of Penwood and make the most amazing Queen in the history of this great country” he said tenderly, honestly and a smile on his face that made Sophie feel like perhaps everything could be okay.

“Thank you” she whispered as she kissed his cheek as she smiled back at him.

This was it. Her choice had been made. Country and Duty over her heart. Phillip was a good man and she could do a lot worse…

#bridgerton #bridgerton drabble #Benophie AU #Princess diaries AU #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #sir phillip crane #benophie #benedict x sophie

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