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#colin bridgerton imagines
pixiemunsons · 2 years
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hi! i have a request!
i was wondering if you could do an addition to your just friends fic? maybe it is their wedding night and reader finally finds out what that hard thing was?
a/n; here it is! i loved this request so i had to. also this is 2.6k words and 1.6 is smut lmao what is wrong w me
also a reminder that requests are open and i’m about to start an anthony x housemaid!reader requested by @gxlden-honey 🤍
first time, benedict is very much in love, masturbation, ben is a little shit but reader is even worse
just lovers (b.b)
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you've finally married your best friend. now just for the wedding night.
a smirk on his face, he grasped your left, and kissed right over your ring finger.
‘i shall see you tomorrow morning, then, my lady?’
you scoffed internally. just friends? what a fucking idiot.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
benedict admitting his feelings was, arguably, the best thing that had ever happened to you. within days of your mutual admission, the two of you were courting, and after a month he had already asked you to marry him. many in the ton whispered about your rushed wedding; you had gone from eligible to betrothed in weeks, and women everywhere were desperate to know exactly what had gone on between the two of you. 
little did they know that what happened between the two of you was all you thought about.
in the lead up to your wedding day, benedict was all that was on your mind. you were looking forward to all of it; the domesticity of life as a married woman, waking up to the man you love every morning, having beautiful children. all you wanted was the bliss you saw on daphne’s face every time she looked at her husband, the love you knew that violet still felt for her deceased husband, and the playful romance that you had watched brew between anthony and kate at benedict’s side. 
most of all, however, what you fantasied about was what could have happened had you and benedict been left alone that night. when your best friend had explained to you how a woman comes to be with child, he had explained that it started with kissing and progressed until the man… entered the woman. you knew nothing more other than that your mama would explain it to you the night before, and by god did you itch to know what you and benedict were to do. if you had known all those years before that it would be him with which you would do the act, you might have told him you were a visual learner.
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smoothing your nightgown over your thighs, you waited in anticipation for your mother to begin speaking. you hadn’t slept correctly in days, and right now, less than twelve hours before you were to be married, you felt almost sick with excitement and nerves. taking your hand in her own, your mother finally spoke.
‘as you are to marry, it is my duty to explain to you what will happen. you will lie in bed together at the end of the night, and he will touch you between your legs. then, he will enter you with himself, and it will hurt, but eventually you may enjoy it and come to bear children.’ you looked at your mother in shock. yes, you had an idea of what was to come, and certainly more of one than most girls your age, but you had no idea it was to hurt, or that you might enjoy it. for a long time after your mama kissed you goodnight, you led facing the ceiling, wishing you could skip all of this and finally be benedict’s wife.
───
finally, finally the guests had left, left you and your husband alone. husband. you rolled the word around in your mouth, and as you followed benedict up to what was once his bedroom but had now become yours, it was all you could think to say to him.
‘husband, benedict. you’re my husband. we’re married.’ he stopped in front of the doors to his chambers, gazing down at you with an almost wistful expression, stroking your cheek ever so gently before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.
‘and you are my wife, now and always.’
he pushed the doors open and you were in his room, alone. it wasn’t the first time, but this time there was no anthony coming to dismiss you for taking too long, no propped open door as you conversed and maybe, looking back on it now, flirted with one another. you’d been in this room a million times; you had helped him paint the walls, embroidered with your feet tucked underneath you on his bed, even slept in here once when benedict had insisted on taking the guest room when your carriage had broken down overnight. he told you many years later that he hadn’t changed the pillow you slept on for weeks, until the scent of your shampoo had all but vanished and he could no longer pretend you were sleeping next to him. but for now, you were mr and mrs benedict bridgerton, newlywed and glowing, and you had each other and that was enough.
he leant down to kiss you once more, cradling your jaw in his large hand but this time he tasted different, tasted of heat and desperation and lust, just like he had that night on the terrace. but this time there were no interfering mamas, no colin on watch, and you could do whatever you wanted to him. so you did. you started with his chest, one that you caught yourself looking at more often than you’d even admit to yourself. you undid the buttons one by one, admiring each new exposed inch of toned flesh and the look of innocent wonder on your face had benedict pulling himself back together before he let you take him apart. you pressed soft lips to his sternum and he shrugged his shirt off, strong arms now open to your gaze and it was almost too much. you kissed from his left bicep down to his elbow, nosing into his scent as your lips trailed down down down to his hand, where you kissed over the ring that now adorned it, smirking up at him much like he had not a month ago. he laughed down at you with his favourite lopsided smile, like he always had, and suddenly it hit you. it had never been any different; the two of you had always been destined to be here, right now in this moment, and the intensity of it left you drunk. you had read a play once, and he called it… what was it… star-crossed. and if any two people had been forged from the same star, it was the two of you. 
you led benedict to the bed, sitting down with your hands on your lap as he stood above you shirtless.
‘you know, darling, as gorgeous as you look in that dress, it’s not quite fair that i’m half naked and you’re still trussed up.’ you pulled a silly face at your husband’s joking, and soon resolved that you’d show him. you might have… forgotten to wear undergarments on your top half, and when you stood up and dropped your dress, benedict’s jaw also seemed to have had some assistance from gravity.
‘cat got your to- oh!’
your humorous chastising of his staring turned into a noise you’d never heard as he sat on the bed and slotted a thigh between your legs and, placing his hands on your hips, ground you down onto it. bare chests pushed together, benedict supported all of your weight as he pressed you against him, humming triumphantly at the gasps that left your soft lips. even through your hazed pleasure, you could tell that benedict thought he had the upper hand. and that would not do.
‘f-feels good, benedict. feels like when-when i-i touch myselff,’ you moaned, writhing against him as his movements against you stuttered against you and then stopped, looking down at you with an expression like you’d told him you had two heads.
‘what did you just say?’ he demanded, a steely look in his eye as his jaw clenched. you could feel the same hard thing from that night only two months ago, and you resolved to ask him what it was once you had finished concentrating on bucking your hips, desperate for friction.
‘that night, the night we k-kissed,’ you murmured, looking into his eyes. ‘i felt… funny, between my l-legs, and i remember how you said that’s how we have babies, y’know?’ you looked up at him again, almost as if repenting and excusing your actions. ‘so i wanted to know what it was. so i t-touched it.’
benedict felt like he might start to cry. his innocent little wife, corrupted before he’d even had the chance to show her all the ways in which a woman can be pleased, and by his own hand. he could have cum right on the spot. instead, he resolved to find out further. gripping your chin, he forced you to make eye contact again, and your furtive gaze made him want to kiss you all over.
‘did it feel good?’
you were desperate by now, rubbing yourself about him, and you reached for his hip. instead, you found something long and hard, and benedict found himself making noises much like the ones you were currently emitting.
‘it did. does this?’ you enquired, toying with him from outside his pants, leaving him a squirming mess. ‘my lord, may i ask? i felt this that night, pressing against me, between my legs. what…’ you trailed off, which benedict took as his cue to continue.
‘my love, it is how i enter you. to have sex.’
sex. it was a new word, and your hips stilled as you contemplated the implications.
‘and is sex how you have babies?’ he let out a breathy chuckle and you hit his arm gently, frowning.
‘my darling, it can be a great many things.’ benedict trailed a hand down from your shoulder to your nipple, tweaking it and smirking at your cry of surprise. ‘it can be fun. it can be done on your own, like you did to yourself, you dirty girl.’ you blushed at his words. ‘it doesn’t have to make a baby. that only happens when i cum. do you know what that means, my love? did you make yourself cum?’
you shook your head. ‘i don’t think so. i did it until i started to feel weird, and then i stopped.’
‘it can be wonderful, my love. do you want me to show you?’
you nodded, and that was all he needed.
rising from the bed, benedict picked you up and then laid you down atop his bed, covering your frame with his own. placing a kiss to your sternum much like you had done to him, he kissed his way down until he was at the last piece of clothing you had on, a pair of blue underwear. daphne had handed it to you that morning, whispering something about tradition, and you had gracefully accepted. when you looked down to see benedict dragging them down with his teeth, you made a mental note to send daphne flowers. expensive ones. before you could process being naked in front of him, benedict’s tongue was in a place that your own hands had only briefly explored, and your hands shot to his messy hair as you writhed against his tongue. strong arms came up to pin your hips to the bed, and you could feel him making shapes against you with his mouth. you concentrated hard, and stars exploded behind your eyes as you worked it out; benedict bridgerton, branded by his very own tongue against his very own wife. despite his arms covering your waist, you bucked up against the intensity of his touch, and once he slid a finger inside you you were done for. you babbled cries of his name as your stomach exploded, toes curling and knees pressing either side of benedict’s head as he licked and sucked all the way through your orgasm, his hands clutching your knees as you shivered.
he worked his way up your body, pressing kisses to the inside of your knee, the dip of your hip and the peak of your ribcage before finally your sweaty forehead, looking at you with such love in your eyes it would have scared you if anyone else looked at you that way. not your benedict, however. you felt nothing but wanted.
‘did that feel good?’ you rolled your eyes once more, before rubbing a hand down his front to his pants, where you could feel him, achingly hard in your palm.
‘i want to make you feel that good, my love, please.’ 
it was an offer he could hardly say no to.
he was soon stripped naked much as yourself, and nothing could have prepared you for what he looked like under his clothes. his cock, as he told you it was called, was throbbing between his legs, long and hard and pointing upright, begging to be touched. when you reached for it, however, benedict brushed your hand aside, making you pout up at him. all you wanted was to explore every inch of your body much like he had yours.
‘there’s plenty of time for that, my dove. years. but right now, i might explode if i can’t get within you right this second.’ you would have been worried about it fitting in you - it was quite large, and you knew you were quite small down there. you knew, however, that benedict would never harm you intentionally, and so you led back, your husband quickly following and covering your body with his own. benedict grasped your left hand, using his other to guide himself to you.
‘i love you so much, mrs bridgerton.’
‘i love you too, ben.’
and with that he pushed into you. the sting was overwhelming for a moment, and you had to grit your teeth to stop the cry that threatened to push its way from your mouth. benedict mouthed over your face, kissing away tears that you didn’t know had fallen, and apologised over and over for hurting you. it was taking every muscle in his body to restrain himself from pushing into you and fucking you silly. it was, after all, all he’d thought about since he was a teenager, and even despite all of his experience with other women, he felt like a nervous virgin all over again, eager to please. 
‘i’m okay ben, truly. you can move,’ you smiled up at him after a moment, and he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear before sealing your lips in a loving kiss and pulling his hips back before pushing them forwards once more. the burn, whilst not completely gone, had dissolved from something uncomfortable into something more welcome, and a moan erupted from your mouth as you gripped his shoulders. 
‘so this is why mothers don’t tell their daughters about it,’ you gasped to your husband, who looked down at you quizzically. ‘if my mother told me it would be this good, i would have been having sex with you for a very long time.’
benedict groaned and dropped his head into your chest, biting gently at your breasts as is thrusts got harder and harder.
‘my love, i’m not going to last very long. i-i can’t stop myself.’
you stroked his back lovingly, kissing his shoulder and the top of his head as he looked down into the place where your bodies joined, speaking sweetly.
‘it’s alright, my lord, let go, finish inside me.’
and with that, benedict was done. he’d imagined for years how you might say those words, the inflection of your voice, the way your voice would go high-pitched and breathy and here you were, beneath him and begging him to cum inside you and he was finished, pushing deep into you and letting go with a grunt of your name before withdrawing and lying beside you.
you looked down at your hands, which were still intertwined, and led basking in your newfound marital bliss. it was benedict who ruined the silence for you, turning on his side with a cheeky grin plastered on his face once more.
‘so, tell me again about how you touch yourself when you think of me?’
tagging moots; @joline12829 @chasingthepoguelife @gxlden-honey
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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
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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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mystcldydrms · 10 months
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ONE SHOTS:
...
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BLURBS:
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HEADCANONS:
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JUST IMAGINE:
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lapelduide · 15 days
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This is Featheringtons's garden
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He deadass went to her house's backyard! Unchaperoned! In broad daylight!
This is so book Colin coded lol. Pen just minding her business and Colin appearing out of nowhere
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natti-ice · 5 days
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18+ mdni
a/n: this is a edited version of an old post of mine!
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
You riding on top of him rocking back and forth on his dick taking every inch of him, you’re in complete euphoria, one hand on his chest for balance while you use the other to circle your clit. You can feel yourself getting close, you keep your pace focusing on cumming. He watches himself disappear inside of you, when your hand catches his eye. He lightly grabs your wrist pulling you out of your daze.
“Let me taste you” he says in a husky voice
You smirk before pulling your hand from your clit and bring your fingers up to his mouth. You lightly brush them against his lips before slipping them into his mouth, he immediately starts sucking on them bobbing his head back and forth, his tongue dances on the pads of your fingertips.
This made you even wetter if that was even possible, he slowly pulls your fingers out of his mouth making sure he didn’t miss anything
“Fuckin perfect.”
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d-targaryenshoe · 2 months
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Pinkish Clouds - Anthony Bridgerton
Word count: 1515
Summary: It is very precious to watch your husband take responsibility as a father, is it not?
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As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the drapes, Y/n Bridgerton, wife of Anthony, stirred in your sumptuous bed. 
The soft linens, embroidered with intricate floral patterns, caressed your skin like the gentle touch of a spring breeze. The scent of lavender filled your nostrils, a welcome aroma that signified a new beginning. 
You stretched your limbs, the memory of the labor pains you endured the day before still fresh in your mind. 
But as you lay there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and accomplishment.
You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of your chamber. 
To your left, a fireplace crackled, its warmth banishing the morning chill. To your right, a large window overlooked the immaculately manicured gardens beyond. 
And beside your bed, your sisters-in-law, Eloise and Daphne, sat in quiet conversation, their laughter tinkling like bells.
You felt a pang of affection for the two women who had become such an important part of your life since your marriage to Anthony. 
Eloise, the youngest of the two, had always been somewhat of a sympathy to her. 
With her smart mind and independent soul, she was a far cry from the demure, obedient society ladies you had grown up with. 
Yet, there was no denying the deep bond that existed between them. As for Daphne, she was sweet-natured, charming, and utterly irresistible. 
As you sat up in bed, your sisters-in-law turned to you, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement. 
"Good morning, y/n," they chorused, beaming at you. "How do you feel?"
You smiled weakly. "A bit exhausted, to be honest. But otherwise, I'm doing well. How are you two?"
Eloise shrugged.
 "We're fine. Daphne's been keeping me company while you were asleep. It's been rather dull if I'm being fair." She glanced at her sister, her expression teasing.
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. I've been enjoying myself. Again, we have something rather important to discuss." She leaned in conspiratorially.
 "Mother has been pacing the hallway for hours. I think she's tense to see the new addition to the family. I'm sure she'll be in soon." 
As if on cue, a knock was heard at the door. "That must be her now," Daphne said, her face lighting up with anticipation.
Eloise rose from her seat and crossed the room to answer the door. You, feeling slightly more awake now, sitting up straighter in bed, wondering what your mother-in-law had in store for you today. 
As Eloise swung the door open, a warm, familiar figure filled the entrance.
 "Mother!" Daphne cried out, leaping to her feet. "We've been waiting for you."
Violet Bridgerton, the family matriarch, surveyed the scene with a delighted smile. 
"My, my," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems I've missed quite a bit. A new baby, I hear." 
She glanced at you, her expression softening into one of motherly concern. "And how are you feeling, dear? Are you in need of anything?"
You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the woman who had become your second mother since marrying Anthony. 
Violet was everything a lady should be, gracious, elegant, and utterly devoted to her family. 
She was also fiercely protective of them, always making sure they were well cared for and safe. 
As you struggled to find the words to express your gratitude, all you could do was manage a small smile. "I'm doing well, thank you. Your presence is all the comfort I need."
Her sisters-in-law exchanged knowing glances, clearly understanding the depth of emotion behind your words. 
They each took turns leaning in to kiss Violet's cheek, expressing their own gratitude for her love and support. 
As they did so, the room seemed to fill with a palpable sense of warmth and affection.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Violet said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, I have a special gift for you and the baby. I've been working on it for months." 
She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small, delicately wrapped package, which she placed in your lap. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it."
Your curiosity piqued, and you gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful, hand-stitched blanket adorned with intricate lacework. 
"Oh, Violet, it's lovely!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with emotion. "I will cherish it always." 
Tears began to form in your eyes as you clutched the blanket to your chest. "Thank you, thank you so much."
Eloise and Daphne exchanged knowing smiles. They knew that this gift, more than anything else, symbolized Violet's acceptance of you as one of her own.
 It was a symbol of the love and support that you all shared as a family.
As they continued to stand there, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and contentment. 
Even though there was still so much that needed to be done, for this brief moment, you were all together, united in your love for one another.
"Now, girls," Violet said, her voice soft and gentle, "I've been thinking. Perhaps you would like to help y/n with something?" 
Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement from Eloise and Daphne. 
They had been itching to help out but had wanted to give their mother time to bond with you first.
"Would you like us to help you get out of bed?" Eloise asked, her tone reassuring. "We could help you down to the sitting room to see Anthony and the baby." 
Your face lit up at the thought, and you quickly nodded your consent. The two sisters moved forward, each taking an arm to assist you as you slowly rose from the bed. 
Once you were upright, they were beginning to guide you toward the sitting room.
The hallway was long and winding, the walls adorned with paintings that told the story of the family's history.
 As you made your way down the hall, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting towards you. 
It was the same waltz you had danced to at your wedding, the one that always made your heart skip a beat. 
The closer you got, the more the music seemed to swirl around you, pulling you forward with irresistible force.
Finally, you reached the sitting room, its windows overlooking the lush gardens beyond. 
The room was lit by soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over the gathered family. 
Anthony was dancing slowly with your newborn baby, his eyes never leaving the child's face as he moved in perfect harmony with the music. 
Eloise and Daphne guided you to a comfortable chair by the window, where you could watch the scene unfold before you.
As you all watched, you could feel a lump forming in your throat. It was so beautiful to see your husband dancing with your child, their love for each other shining through every movement. 
You could see the resemblance between them, both of them with Anthony's dark hair and eyes. 
The baby's tiny fingers curled around Anthony's finger as if she were already familiar with the feeling of being held so close.
Your sisters-in-law took seats on either side of you, their hands clasped together in their laps. 
They smiled at you, understanding the depth of emotion that you were feeling at that moment.
 It was a precious moment, one that you would all cherish for the rest of your lives.
As Anthony finished his dance with the baby, he came over to you all, his face flushed with happiness and exhaustion. 
He bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.
 "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to be the first one to hold her, and I did not want to wake you."
"It's all right," you replied softly, your eyes never leaving his face. "I know you were with her." Anthony smiled at you, a tear trickling down his cheek. 
He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I've been thinking," he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "That we should have a naming ceremony for the baby. Something small and intimate, just for our closest friends and family. What do you think?"
Your heart swelled with joy at the thought. You turned to your sisters-in-law, your face alight with excitement.
 "That sounds excellent," you said, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "I would adore that." 
"Then it's settled," Anthony declared, his voice strong and sure. "We'll have the ceremony next weekend. Everyone will be here to celebrate with us."
 He leaned down to kiss your forehead again before returning to his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.
As you all watched Anthony gently rock the child in his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. 
You were home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. And despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that they would face them together, as a family.
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leviathanspain · 2 months
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🐈‍⬛ hiii! what do you think of benedict bridgerton x reader, where reader is daphne’s long time friend who’s always been close with the family and has always had a crush on benedict, she doesn’t make it obvious but even he knows and before her big debut she overhears him talking with his brothers about her and how he’d never marry her because he’d never have feelings for you even though you have feelings for him, reader quickly moves on because why would she care about what a man thinks right? so obviously she has to go to the balls looking real good and dance with lots of guys making him jealous (perk but not the goal) and he eventually realizes his feelings and makes it all up to her after finding out she heard what he said
like someone in love
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benedict bridgerton x reader
synopsis: you’ve come to terms with the fact that he would never see you romantically, and so you have to find a way to move on
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you audibly gasped, hand clutching at your corset, that your lady’s maid was strapping to your body. she looked over your shoulder and you shook your head, “i am fine, tighter!” you shrieked shrilly, feeling the air constrict in your lungs.
you heard the quick ties of the ribbon and inhaled slowly, “i have to look perfect for tea with daphne.” you admired yourself in the mirror, “if i happen to run into mr. bridgerton, i want to look perfect.” you held your head high, watching your hair fall back loosely, “use the blue ribbon, will you?”
“of course, my lady.” anne, your lady’s maid, always had a small smile on her face whenever she helped you with your visits to the bridgerton household; ever since you became taken with the middle brother, benedict.
you tried to be modest with your attraction, especially since he was daphne’s older brother, and she was your dearest friend. but sometimes, you felt as if the entire ton could see right through you.
“this is the last he’ll see of me before i’m game to the rest of london.” you rolled your eyes, “with whatever my mother has planned- i can only expect a surprise.” your mother, constance, had wonderful success in marrying off your three older sisters, to members of high european society.
“i don’t want her to choose my husband, i know who he is,” you inhaled again, “he just has to choose me.” you smoothed down your skirt, and walked over to your vanity, anne following quickly behind.
“oh, y/n!” daphne still felt like a girl whenever you appeared in her doorway. the drawing room had been empty except for her, looking beautiful as ever.
you looked around before greeting her back, smiling brightly as you sat across from her, “where is everyone?” you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that benedict wasn’t sketching away by the window.
daphne exhaled, “mama took everyone out for promenade. i’m rather nervous about tomorrow, and well,” she shrugged, smiling.
you nodded, “i most definitely am nervous. a pit in my stomach.” you admitted, “i understand, daph. that is why when i received your invite for tea, i knew i had to come.”
daphne’s attention shifted to the bustling bodies that were shoving each other through the drawing room doorway. it was all her brothers, with eloise.
eloise smiled at you, and moved over to the seat beside her sister. benedict, colin and anthony all greeted you politely, indulging in small conversation with daphne before excusing themselves to the study.
as they left, you couldn’t help but let your eyes hang on benedict, not bothering to hide your feelings. daphne smiled, “y/n, i do hope my brother marries you, you’d be my sister.” you blushed, laughing off her comment as eloise raised her eyebrows.
your tea with daphne had turned into a private dinner, and it had gotten late. “this was lovely, daph.” you had stopped on your walk by the study with daphne, “i’ll see you tomorrow, be perfect.” you wished her luck, and waved her off as she dashed back up the stairs.
the bridgerton house grew quiet as you took your time exiting. you had hoped you’d accidentally bump into benedict on your way out, but as you passed the last room, you lost hope.
“no!” you heard some shouting, a rancorous laughter followed and you paused by the wall of the last room. it was the three brothers, indulging in conversation. “i would never marry y/n. she’s-“ you heart dropped just as the voice paused, “there’s nothing there. no.” he, benedict, how could you not recognize that voice, had unknowingly shattered your heart with muffled conversation.
you inhaled sharply, and dashed out of the home, walking fast to your carriage as your tears threatened to fall.
your father had been a great man. your mother loved him passionately that even she cried when he died. you cried, but you were a child who knew her father fleetingly. your mother made you promise on his grave that no man would ever make you hurt like this again.
benedict breaking your heart was no different, and you knew you couldn’t dwell. your mother would not let you, you would not let yourself cry for him anymore.
the debut had been the easy part, the hard part was standing out. your first ball and already you couldn’t qualm your nerves. you knew that daphne and her entire family would be attending, you would have to see benedict, have to see him knowing what he said.
your mother had revealed to you that there was a duke and a prince in the waters, and you had to reach for the highest of stars.
your dance card had been filled to the brim, not even an hour had passed before there was a line of eligible suitors waiting for a dance. you were speechless, never did you think you’d get a reaction like that. not when there was daphne in the same pool of ladies.
everyone but the man you wanted had lined up for a dance, even his brother colin, but it was friendly more than anything.
benedict watched you carefully, smiling politely as you and colin danced. you indulged his ramblings about his wishes to travel, your father had been quite the explorer before settling down, so you were as worldly as he had been.
benedict tugged at his collar. seeing his brother with you had left him feeling odd, upset.
“ben, are you okay?” anthony had surprised his brother, and benedict nodded, “ye-yes. i just need a breath.” he spotted the nearest double doors, leading off to a balcony of some sort, he rushed away, his hand clutching into a fist nervously.
his skin felt hot, and he exhaled a breath. you had an affect on him that he had tried to ignore for months now.
when he was confronted about it by his brothers, he denied it fiercely, you were young, beautiful and wildly too good for him. not with your sisters’ husbands being who they were, benedict knew your mother wouldn’t even consider him as a thought.
but he couldn’t ignore the rage he felt at colin, watching his hands on your body, guiding you as you danced.
he knew you had an affection for him, he could see it in your eyes, but you didn’t know him, you couldn’t see why he was the wrong man for you. anthony had claimed that look in your eyes was of someone in love. he encouraged his brother, but benedict grew more reserved about his decision.
you wanted him to see. five balls of trying to capture a glance from benedict bridgerton, and five balls of failure. you had danced with nearly all of the eligible men, many handsome and as rich as you could imagine, but none left you with desire.
benedict was slowly becoming nothing but a dream, an unfulfilled desire that only kept you up at night.
on the night of the last ball of the season, you knew you had to get benedict alone. you had grown restless through the season, upset and frustrated. this was your last chance, because your mother refused to have her daughter end her first season unmarried.
you would be someone’s wife soon, and you had to be his.
benedict needed this. the drag of the smuggled cigarette in his lungs, the exhaling into the pitch black sky. knowing you were inside, dancing your way into someone else’s arms.
he refused to watch it happen, and he refused to admit how much he hated all of the men of the ton. he loathed every single one for having danced with you.
“mr. bridgerton.” he had only heard you address him a few times. not in a long while, and he had made sure of that.
he turned, shocked to see you standing behind him. you were wearing a baby blue dress, cheeks flushed. “miss heathfield.” he seemed breathless, and he dropped the cigarette that had been between his fingers, brushing his hand on his coat, holding it behind his back.
“it is chilly out here, perhaps you would be more comfortable inside?” no one else was outside, and it was inappropriate for you to be out here with him, alone.
you didn’t move, “benedict,” you spoke informally and sighed, “i will be someone’s wife before the month ends, and i just want to know.” he blinked, “why do you not want me to be yours?” you exhaled, feeling a relief off your chest.
benedict watched as you walked closer to him, “i have wished for that since the beginning of the season, y/n.” he looked at you, “you are beautiful, talented, wondrous and intriguing woman, and i absolutely do not deserve you.” his lips went tight, “i’ve seen your sisters’ husbands. they’re dukes and earls, i’m not even the viscount.” he whispered, “you deserve to be loved like a queen, a princess, anything but a mrs.”
you grew emotional, tears brimmed in your eyes and you stomped, “stop it this instance, benedict bridgerton!” you were now face to face with him, you could smell the cigarette smoke more clearly now, “i can see you feel strongly about me, and i want nothing more in this moment than for you to kiss me.”
benedict looked at you, glancing at the parted doorway, light and laughter floated down to his ears before he rushed in to kiss you.
your knees went weak at the kiss, and he gripped you, holding you against him. he pulled away, panting, “i-“ he was utterly speechless.
“i know.” you whispered, knowing the look in his eyes all too well.
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frost-queen · 2 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
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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…
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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  [read part 2 & part 3 & part 4 ]
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mgcldydrms · 1 year
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just imagine ...
you're falling asleep late at night. after a while, you hear your name being called. it feels like you have slept for hours, but you're still tired. you hear your name again and again, so you reluctantly open your eyes and suddenly come face to face with your favourite fictional character. you gasp, shocked to see them in front of you, rubbing your eyes over and over again, and telling yourself it's just a dream. 'get up sleepy head. it's time for a new adventure.', they suddenly say, smiling brightly at you. you suddenly look around and notice that you're not in your room, but in your favourite fictional world. 'come on', that fictional character says again. they take your hand and you can feel their grip on you and now you know, it is not a dream. this is your reality now. your time to live in your favourite fictional world and do all these things you have dreamed about for such a long time. it is time to finally be yourself.
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writtenfangirl · 17 days
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Madness
I wrote this so long ago and then abandoned it because I didn’t know if the ending was satisfactory or not. I thought it would have a greater plot as well but when I couldn’t find it, I was dissatisfied until I reread it and realized the prose was too good not to publish.
Fluff but also a little bit of angst if you squint hard enough.
In which Benedict Bridgerton finally reveals the truth.
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She was beautiful. Too beautiful, if Benedict was being perfectly honest with himself. Not the kind of beauty that had him picking up a paint brush and painstakingly striking an easel with lovely swirls of color but the kind of beauty that distracted him, made him brood in a dim corner of the room, watching the little twists of her mouth and the subtle way she arched a brow. Beauty to the point of distraction, like spending hours watching shooting stars dash across the night sky, not realizing as dawn approached on the horizon.
It was utterly maddening.
She was utterly maddening.
How was he meant to live, to exist and breathe, to witness such great beauty and yet have none of the capacity, the right, to keep it?
Just a glance from her, a single curve of her lips, and Benedict could feel his faith in God strengthening as easily as he could deny the Lord’s existence. Only a benevolent God could create such ecstatic beauty and yet no benevolent God could exist in this world if Benedict had to bear the cruelty of Y/N’s indifference.
Maddening.
He sighed, the sound bereft as he continued to watch her charm the eligible men of the ton. She had a veritable cabal of men gathered around her and if any other debutant had been in her position, they surely would have been overwhelmed by now.
But not Y/N.
Never Y/N.
With her head held high and her smile demure, she directed the men as easily as if she was holding court. A slight clearing of the throat and already, someone had a glass of lemonade in their hand while a flap of her hand would have the men falling over themselves in an attempt to get her a chair.
A queen holding court, indeed.
Benedict rolled his eyes at the man to her right, who practically shoved at the man on his left in order to catch Y/N’s attention. Not that it really mattered though, especially not when Y/N’s attention was focused on Benedict.
Even from across the room, the tension between them felt palpable. Exhilarating. It always had been with Y/N. Thick and smooth, the connection between them as tangible as their own beating hearts. Just a shared look between them and the world fell silent, the edges of his vision practically darkening at the edges until he saw only her.
Beautiful. Even as her face contorted with hurt for the briefest of seconds, her eyes pulling away from him and returning to the crowd of men that surrounded her.
Benedict gritted his teeth, the only sign of annoyance he let himself show.
“I see you are not quite so enamored with our diamond.”
Benedict’s head whipped to the left, finding Lady Danbury watching him with those shrewd eyes of hers. The old crone had her cane gripped tightly in her hands and Benedict fought his grimace at the phantom pain that shot up from his ankles. The dowager countess had a terrible habit of whacking gentlemen she didn’t like with that sturdy cane of hers and Benedict had felt the brunt of that pain far too many times for his liking.
Still, as a gentleman, he couldn’t very well ignore the woman. It would have been terribly rude of him to and it went against every fiber of the etiquette that had been drilled to him as a child.
He spared Y/N another glance before he spoke. “You think all those men enamored with her?”
“I think they think themselves enamored by her,” Lady Danbury said. “She is quite a beauty and accomplished too, I hear. Are you acquainted with the young lady?”
He had been, when he was young. As recently as a few months ago, Benedict had counted Y/N as one of his dearest friends but with everything that transpired between them…
“We are familiar with one another.”
Lady Danbury arched a brow, directing her attention back to Y/N. She was animatedly speaking with Anthony and Colin, the only time the entire evening where her smile didn’t seem a little bit forced. “Your brothers seem friendly with her. Why aren’t you?”
Because he was a stupid, bloody, idiot who didn’t know how to keep his damn mouth shut, that’s why.
But his pride would never let him say that, especially not in front of Lady Danbury. “We are familiar with each other.” He repeated, voice tight.
Lady Danbury’s eyes flickered. “I seem to recall your mother telling me about how you and the Lady Y/N were thick as thieves not so long ago.”
Bloody hell, the old crone was relentless. He didn’t want to talk about his and Y/N’s falling out, especially not with her.
He suddenly whirled, cocking his head to the side. “Oh, I believe I hear someone calling me.”
No one was calling him but not even his impeccable manners could make him stay.
Lady Danbury harrumphed. “I may be old, boy, but I am not deaf.”
“Definitely hear someone calling me.” Benedict even cupped a hand, placing it on the side of his mouth before he yelled a quick, “I’ll be right there!” He turned back to Lady Danbury, who was looking at him as if she knew his claims were a lie. “Lady Danbury, if you’ll excuse me.”
The dowager countess simply gave Benedict a knowing look yet let him go.
He ducked into the crowd towards… bloody hell he couldn’t find anyone he would rather talk to. His brothers were still off speaking with Y/N and he didn’t feel like speaking with his mother, who would likely hound him about his fight with Y/N. Which left the last person of their party, Eloise. A quick scan of the room revealed his sister in the other side of the room, conspiratorially whispering to her best friend, Penelope Featherington.
He zoomed towards them, turning his back on Y/N and Lady Danbury.
Eloise caught his eye as he approached and her lips pursed in displeasure. “Why do you look as if you’re expecting me to bail you out of a horrible situation.”
“Can’t I see my favorite sister with joy in my face without being suspected of ill intent?”Benedict said with a grin before bowing to Penelope, who returned the gesture with her own curtsy.
Penelope ducked her head to suppress a giggle.
Eloise rolled her eyes at him. “What do you want?”
“To ask you why you’re sulking in a corner instead of dancing despite—“ he pulled at the dance card in her wrist, every single line filled with names that were unfamiliar to him. “Did you put fake names in your dance card?”
Eloise snatched her wrist back. “Yes. I thought that with Y/N grabbing the attention of so many of the gentlemen, I would be spared the embarrassment of having to entertain any gentlemen tonight. Unfortunately, I was wrong.”
Benedict turned to Penelope. “How many approached her?”
“Six,” Penelope smirked, “and those six quickly turned right back around.”
“Well with a full dance card, I’m not at all surprised.”
Eloise rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Spare me the lecture, brother. I’m sure I’ll hear enough from mother tonight.”
“She caught you?”
“After Eloise turned down the sixth one, Lady Violet began to suspect,” Penelope explained.
Benedict grinned. “When have you known me to lecture you?”
She gave him a saccharine smile, the kind that Benedict always knew would end with her barbed words. “Aren’t you meant to be fawning over Y/N? You’d done it most of our life.”
He bristled at her words.
Penelope shot them a curious look. “You never told me you were acquainted with the lady?”
“Hadn’t I?” Eloise frowned. “Lady Y/L/N’s family and ours have been acquainted for ages. Of course, she rarely ever came to London and if it hadn’t been for her father’s recent passing she wouldn’t have had a season at all. Mama had held hope that perhaps one of my dear brothers would begin to take some responsibility and marry her.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper that was so loud, it still reached Benedict’s ears. “Personally, I always thought Benedict would offer. He and Y/N had a special bond growing up. Even Daphne thinks so.”
Benedict had never hit a woman before but perhaps, just this once, excuses could be made for one’s sisters.
“So, well acquainted then,” Penelope said with a slight smile.
“I do recall Benedict pining after Y/N for years,” Eloise mused, uncaring as Benedict’s mood soured. “You never did tell me why it is you suddenly became estranged”
“Not that it’s any of your business.” He grumbled.
Eloise batted eyes innocently. “Irritable today, aren’t you, brother? Could it possibly be because of the cadre of men that hound every one of Y/N’s footsteps?”
“I have changed my mind. Francesca is now my favorite sister.”
“I love you too, Benedict,” she all but grinned.
He turned his attention back to Y/N, who, to his surprise, had taken her leave.
“She’s in the garden, if you wish to speak to her,” Eloise said, noting his wandering eyes and nodding towards the open veranda at the side.
“What gave you the impression that I would like to speak to her?”
Eloise simply rolled her eyes before tugging Penelope’s arm. “With Y/N taking her respite, I imagine there will be a sudden influx of gentlemen who would like to dance. Let us make ourselves scarce.” And she pulled Penelope along, the red head offering Benedict an apologetic look.
He glanced at the crowd once again before letting his feet carry him through the veranda and out towards the garden. There were still many people milling about outside that granted them protection from scandal but it was much more intimate than the loud din of the ballroom.
The night was cool, the spring air serene compared to the humidity of the ballroom.
He spied Y/N, her back turned against the door. Upon hearing his approach, she sighed. “Good sir, if you did not understand me, I wish to be al—“ she turned and her words died at her lips at the sight of him. “Oh. It’s you.”
She looked even lovelier up close. She always did. Whether dressed in a simple frock with her long hair flowing down her back or dressed ornately with jewels adorning her, she always looked lovelier up close.
“What do you want, Benedict,” Y/N said, dropping that societal mask she employed inside.
“To apologize.”
She shook her head. “There is nothing to apologize for. You asked for my hand under false pretenses, I rejected you. End of story.“
“Under false pretenses?” He echoed, his own tone turning sharp. “You think my proposal to be insincere? Is that why you rejected me?”
“I did not think it insincere, I knew it to be insincere. I heard you and the Lady Violet discussing me. I heard when you declared your intention to ask for my hand in marriage simply because she had asked you to.”
Oh.
Oh.
He remembered then, the conversation he had with his mother right before he proposed.
“Propose to her,” Violet had urged just as breakfast had been served, with only Benedict and Violet dining.
“I am not even courting her, mama,” he replied exasperatedly. It had been far too early in the morning to entertain his mother’s insistence on seeing him wed to Y/N. She’d pestered him about it in one form or another even before the Y/L/Ns had come to visit the Bridgertons and Benedict knew she would not stop until he and Y/N were formally engaged.
But Y/N had just ended her mourning period for her father. And though societal mandates dictated that it was perfectly reasonable for Benedict to ask for her hand in marriage, he knew how deeply she mourned the man, especially since his death had placed her in such a precarious position. The late patriarch of the Y/L/N family had been fond of his only child, even if she had been born a girl. And Y/N had loved him, even if his death left her and her mother saddled with financial debt despite coming from the longest line of barony in England.
“What does it matter that you are not courting?” Violet demanded. “You have known her since you were both children. You’ve been courting her all your life.”
“Mama, please leave it well enough alone.”
“What is it that you do not like about her?” She insisted. “She is beautiful and accomplished and you have known each other your whole lives. Any young man would be fortunate to be bound to her in marriage.”
“I never said anything that would imply otherwise.”
“Then why do you refuse to ask her for her hand in marriage? Doing so would spare her a season in London and limit their financial troubles.” And then she had gasped in indignation. “Or is their financial troubles the very reason why you refuse? I never raised you to be avaricious!”
Bloody hell. “I am not avaricious, mother. I do not care about her dowry or lack thereof!”
“Then what is it? Do not tell me it is because you do not love her. I have seen the way you look at her.”
Benedict had eyed his fork, had wondered if perhaps, it would be a better to shove it in his ears than listen to his mother’s hullabaloo.
Instead he took a scone, spreading a generous layer of clotted cream and jam so his hands had something to do rather than maim himself.
“And how is it I look at her, mother?” He drawled.
“The same way your father used to look at me.”
At that he had paused, scone half-raised to his mouth. He hadn’t known what to say anymore. Mentions of his own father had always been capable of silencing his mind.
Finally, he had decided on telling her the truth, that his mother may finally stop pestering him.
“Asking Y/N for her hand in marriage had always been the plan, mother,” Benedict relented. “I was simply waiting for the perfect moment.”
Violet smiled at her son kindly. “There are no such thing as perfect moments, dearest. Only moments that can be made perfect. And whether you ask her later or tomorrow or next week, that moment will be perfect by virtue of you asking.”
She was right, of course. Violet Bridgerton was so rarely incorrect especially in matters of the heart and love.
Benedict had given her a smile, and said, voice dripping in sarcasm. “Well, since you so graciously asked me to, I shall propose to the Lady Y/N, if only to make you happy.”
That must have been what Y/N heard. Not the whole story but the end, when Benedict had teased his mother.
Now he was convinced that God existed and that he must be cruel. Only the machinations of a cruel God could have lined up the timing perfectly.
Y/N’s eyes flickered as she regarded him. “I do not wish to bind you in marriage with someone you do not hold any affection for. You have fulfilled your promise to your mother and have asked for my hand. I rejected you. We no longer have any obligations with one another. Good night.” She made a move to pass him, to walk back to the ballroom to her gaggle of men but Benedict’s hand shot up, gripping her arm and keeping her to him.
His hands were gloved and even Y/N’s arms were sheathed in silk. And though he had never felt gloves to be particularly offensive, he wished to burn the ones that covered their hands. If only so he could feel her smooth skin beneath his fingers.
The heady scent of her perfume wafted through his senses. She smelled divine, like walking through a garden of roses under the cover of moonlight as the stars twinkled above his head. Utterly mouthwatering, and capable of driving even the sanest of men into insanity. The scent of distraction.
Always so distracting.
Benedict forced his mouth to speak before his brain could forget the words he needed to say. “Do you think so little of me? Capable of such cruelty especially when it comes to you.”
Y/N’s brows met, a flash of pain in her eyes and then it was gone. “It is the opposite, really. I think the world of you, Benedict. Only a gentleman would offer to marry a girl he has no obligations to simply because of her precarious position in life. You are an honorable man and any woman would be lucky to call you their husband. It is why I cannot accept your proposal, not when you do not love me. Not when there is no one on this world more deserving of love than you.”
Benedict frowned at her. “Why do you continue to insist that I do not love you?”
“Because you do not!” She pulled away from him, wrenching her hand from his grasp. Her eyes were pure anguish as she looked at him and the very sight of her pain had him staggering back. “If you truly held any affection for me, I would know. I have studied you all our lives, Benedict. And in all the time we shared together, you had never shown any affection for me beyond that of a friend. Your proposal hurt, Benedict. I have loved you in every way a man could be loved for so long and for you to ask for my hand in marriage out of pity—“ She choked, eyes widening as if she didn’t mean to say the things she’d said.
“You love me?” He echoed, heart beating quickly in his chest. He wondered, briefly, if his fast beating heart marks the day he really lived. If Y/N’s confession had been the reason he truly felt alive for the first time in his life.
Her face crumpled in pain as she stepped back. “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said those things. Please take your leave, Benedict. That I may salvage whatever scraps of my dignity is left.”
But Benedict did no such thing.
Instead he took her hands and lowered himself into a kneel, setting his eyes upon her. The arching light of the manor spilled over the veranda casted her in a soft glow that took his very breath away.
Y/N’s eyes widened in alarm and whatever pain she held there was washed away by her surprise. “Benedict, what are you doing?”
“Begging you for forgiveness.”
“What? Benedict, get up.”
But he held firm, his determination cementing his knees to the ground. “Forgive me, Y/N, for my grave transgressions against you. That you had ever lived your life doubting my affections for you, or wondering if I cared for you as more than a friend are sins I will carry with me to my last breath. It will be my great shame that I had not made it abundantly clear that I love you. Because I do love you. Most ardently.”
“Benedict, get up. This is madness—“
“You are right. It is madness. The way I feel for you would drive the sanest of people into lunacy. But if loving you is madness then I don’t ever wish to be sane.”
Her eyes gleamed silver with unshed tears that threatened to fall from her pretty eyes. “B-But that morning, the day you proposed—“
“I did not propose to you out of pity for you, I did it out of pity for me. I needed to put myself out of my misery and finally marry the only girl I ever had the privilege of falling in love with rather than continue pining after you in secret.”
She let out a a laugh through her tears, the sound like bells chiming during a storm. Light and beautiful despite the pouring rain that threatened to drown it out. “Ask me again.”
His heart leapt to his throat, pounding so quickly he struggled to get the words out. But they came nonetheless, the words clear and betraying none of his anxiety. “Y/N, will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
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pixiemunsons · 2 years
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just friends (b.b)
a/n: right i promise i'll stop posting a fic a night because this is tooo much for everyone hahahaha
allusions to smut, use of the word whore to describe sex work, mutual pining, benedict needs to grow some balls
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you’re not just friends, and you both fucking know it
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
benedict bridgerton had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. it was an unlikely pairing - you had initially come to his home as a friend of daphne’s, and whilst you still loved her dearly it had become very clear that you and benedict were a much better match. well, a much better friendship at the very least. 
it was not very common for men and women to be friends, at least not in the society in which you and benedict both partook. you had only managed to get away with it for so long by excusing your constant presence at the bridgerton house with daphne, and, once she married and moved out, eloise, whose company you had come to appreciate more as you spent more time with her favourite brother. at twenty two, you were on your third season, and understood more than most in your position that if anyone outside of your families were to see how much time you spent with a man - an older one at that, even if not by much - your reputation would be left shattered. you often considered whether it mattered to not what people thought. you knew that you and benedict were to be just friends forever, and there would be no tarnishing of any honour between the two of you.
you could never admit this to anyone, but it was a great source of annoyance to you that he insisted on telling anyone who’d listen just how platonic your relationship was. you weren’t a fool - you knew he spent his nights doing all sorts of sordid deeds with other women, you had heard the whispers between him and colin. there was also the season you and eloise had once spent trying to work out how ladies came to be with child, and benedict had blushed and sputtered his way through an explanation. you had pleaded, insisted and begged that he told you, and he hadn’t been able to look you in the eye for a week afterwards. privately, you wished that it was because he wanted to commit those acts with you, but you weren’t pinning your hopes on it. the closest the two of you ever got was only in the privacy of aubrey hall in the summer, and even that was limited - side hugs as you sat together on the couch, linked pinky fingers as you walked around the grounds and maybe the occasional kiss on the cheek as you left. each touch lingered for hours, spending pleasant sparks through your skin and mind for weeks afterwards. everyone around you saw it, the way you felt towards him. violet always commented on how much of a lovely daughter-in-law you’d make, and eloise had once divulged in you that, despite her hatred of all things romantic, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you married her brother. even anthony seemed to allow the two of you a few more unchaperoned moments than what would be seen to be proper, letting you sit in benedict’s bedroom just a few minutes past what he should before coming to collect the two of you. not that any of it mattered of course. benedict didn’t feel the same way. he was having too much fun with his art and his whores, and you weren’t getting any younger. you resolved that this season would be the one that you would push your dark haired best friend from your mind and settle on a husband.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
‘why in the hell is she dancing with him?!’
colin followed his brother’s gaze with amusement, and his eyes fell on you across the dancefloor. you’d done your hair up in a style that was very becoming of you, and your lilac dress was very flattering. you looked lovely; colin had already told you that when you had arrived. he’d always thought you were very beautiful, but by the time he had grown old enough to appreciate you as a young lady, benedict had all but laid claim to you. his idiot brother had never been open about his feelings towards you to anyone but colin himself, declaring once drunkenly that he thought he might die if you were to ever marry anyone else. colin thought he was a fool for never telling you himself, and as he watched you dance with lord hillmore with a smile on your face, colin realised that his brother may have missed his chance entirely.
benedict was feeling very much the same way.
he was gripping his glass of lemonade with a force that was whitening his knuckles, and he wished there was something stronger in it so that he could… process what he was seeing. you looked happy. happier than he’d seen you in a while, he supposed. he knew you were approaching your third season unmarried, and he knew deep down that he should have done something about it sooner. your very first season you had been presented by your mother alongside daphne, and his heart had almost stopped entirely in his chest. he had known you for years, but this was the first time he had truly noticed you for what you were now - a woman. your long hair had been tied back in a fashionable style, showing the creaminess of the skin at your neck, and all benedict had thought about that morning was how he wished to press his lips to the exposed skin behind your ear and listen to the beautiful sounds he just knew you’d make. he could see your shape from the silhouette of your dress, the curve of your breasts and the dip of your waist, and oh how he yearned to grab them, to touch you. he’d never quite managed to get the words out, however, and instead satiated his urges temporarily with whores who looked like you or smelt like you or sounded like you, closing his eyes as hard as he could as he laid with them and pretending that it was you crying his name and kissing him. he was regretting every moment of that now, and decided that was it. it was now or never, and he didn’t think he could live with never.
───
you nodded your head at the man in front of you, smiling demurely as your dance came to an end. lord hillmore was pleasing enough to look at, you supposed, although with his blonde hair and brown eyes he was the complete opposite of benedict. you wondered if that was a good thing - you were after all trying very hard to get over the man who you had decided was never going to make a move. the lord placed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, and you wandered off to the lemonade table to get yourself a refreshment after the exercise.
at least, that was your intention before a hand gripped your wrist and pulled you towards the door leading into the garden.
you made multiple swipes at whoever had accosted you, hitting their arm as they dragged you unseen behind some statues and onto the porch that wrapped around the whole house. his hand felt strong as he pulled you outside, and the mystery man had all but pressed you against the wall when, filled with adrenaline, you surged forward and bit him on the forearm. triumphantly, you listened to his cry of surprise and pain, before a familiar voice whisper shouted, making your stomach sink.
‘christ, y/n, what was that for?!’
you looked up to finally see that the man who you were now alone with was benedict bridgerton, nursing his bruising arm with a confused look on his face. indignantly you crossed your arms and furrowed your brow, looking up at the man in horror.
‘you dragged me off the dance floor and out here alone, what did you expect from me?! what if someone saw?’
he waved a roughened hand dismissively, ‘colin’s watching to make sure no one comes out.’ this only served to confuse you further.
‘why the hell is colin waiting? why did you drag me out here to speak? i need to go back in, i’ve-‘ you pushed yourself away from the wall to make your way back inside, but benedict caged you back against the wall with strong arms, and it took everything you had to maintain eye contact with him and not glance at his muscles as you so often found yourself doing. his chest was heaving and there was something almost angry in the way he looked at you, as if merely looking at you filled him with negative emotions. you felt an overwhelming urge to cry, and dropped your gaze to your fingers.
‘why were you dancing with him?’
you sprung back into eye contact with benedict, and now the anger in his gaze had been replaced with something almost beseeching. you, however, were furious.
‘i do not believe that that is any of your business, my lord.’
‘drop the formal act, you haven’t called me that since you were thirteen,’ he seethed.
‘i danced with him because i spend every ball dancing with you, but i am looking for a husband and you have proven that i am wasting my time when it comes to you,’ you spat back at him, and you almost apologised at seeing the hurt in his eyes.
‘you don’t get to say that. you don’t get to tell me that now, not after all this time.’
‘benedict, you have made it abundantly clear that i am nothing but a friend to y-‘
‘we’re not just friends and you fucking know it.’
you stilled at benedict’s words, and even he seemed taken aback at his own language. that, however, was not what was bothering you, you had heard worse during games of pall mall. you stared up at him, urging him to continue. benedict ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath before continuing.
‘i have never been able to quite find the words to explain myself to you, and i am well aware that this may have come too late, but i can not allow you to commit to marrying anyone before i get this off my chest. i have never, never felt the way i feel about you towards anyone else. every time you touch me or brush against me, i am filled with an overwhelming urge to take you in my arms and kiss you until you can’t breathe. when you asked me about how women become with child, i dreamed about you having my children every night for months. there is an emptiness within me that is only full when i am with you, and i believe it is because you are a part of me, indistinguishable from myself. i am wholly in love with you. i understand if you wish to marry another, god knows i made you wait long enough, but if you will have me, i will ask your father’s permission tomorrow and i will get on one knee and you will be my wife.’
you had no words. it was as if someone had punched you in the stomach and snatched the air from your lungs entirely, and you thought that this might be the feeling benedict was talking about when he said he’s never been able to find the words. you could see the hope fading in his eyes, eyebrows furrowing as he ran a hand once more through his dark hair and opened his mouth to speak. desperately, you grasped for the ability to form words, but you couldn’t find it. so, you looked around and seeing that colin was doing his job and there was still no one around, you did the only thing you could think to do.
you gripped benedict’s shoulders in your hands firmly, and as quick as he had turned to look at you, you had flung yourself at him, attaching your lips to his in a way that you thought was probably very messy. you pushed every emotion, every feeling, every ounce of love into him, and you could feel your feet lifting from the floor as he wrapped a muscular arm around your waist and hiked you from the floor as though you were weightless. his other hand explored you in a way that indicated he had been waiting for years; he grabbed at your hips and your neck, and his lips left your own and traced back to your ear, whispering over the lobe before suckling on a spot that made you gasp his name. your own hands traversed the firmness of his chest and stomach, rubbing over his firm shoulders and you latched your own lips to the bit of collarbone that poked out from behind his dress shirt. you could swear that you felt something distinctly hard against your thigh, and just as you moved a hand to explore the mysterious object, colin’s head popped around the corner and benedict placed you hastily on the floor.
‘as much as you probably hate me right now, lady danbury and our mother are coming,’ he whispered, striding towards the two of you and linking his arm with yours, ‘so i suggest you sort yourselves out before-‘
‘-so i told penelope that the four of us simply must go to the tea room later this week, i was thinking friday?’ the two men were astounded at how easily you had slipped into the lie as the two older women turned the corner, and you winked at them both subtly before curtseying to benedict’s mother and her companion, smiling brightly.
‘i must be taking my leave now, my ladies. i do believe my mother will be waiting for me inside.’ you turned to both colin and benedict, the latter of whom still looked slightly flushed from your encounter not moments before. you would be lying if you said you didn��t feel the same, but you thought you were holding yourself together quite well. you curtsied to colin, allowing him to kiss your hand with a knowing smile on his face, before turning to benedict and offering him your right hand. a smirk on his face, he grasped your left, and kissed right over your ring finger.
‘i shall see you tomorrow morning, then, my lady?’
you scoffed internally. just friends? what a fucking idiot.
tagging @chasingthepoguelife and @joline12829 who, like myself, can't get enough of ben<3
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iliveiloveiwrite · 1 year
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Colin Bridgerton and Christmas (headcanons)
A/N: Colin and Carolling! I shall be posting Anthony’s after this too so expect two posts tonight! As always, I hope you all like! <3
warnings: carolling, singing, very light religious tones, christmas, holiday season, fluff, happiness.
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It was a well known secret that Colin Bridgerton could sing, and could sing well.
The eldest three brothers could all sing, but it was Colin who nurtured his voice and could be found humming a tune when lost deep in thought or writing in his extensive journals.
As the year hurtles towards December and advent falls upon them, Colin often catches himself singing the very same carols he has known for most of his life. The very carols he loves.
Colin supposes his love of carols stems from the time spent in church over the festive period when he was younger.
Though that time has lessened as he’s grown older, Colin sings the familiar hymns and carols with fondness.
————————
Colin had never fully immersed himself in charitable pursuits. That wasn’t to say he didn’t give to those in need, but there was never something that he devoted his spare time to.
That is until you came home, close to bursting at the seams with excitement over your new charitable adventure.
Organising luncheons, galas and lectures for charities was nothing new for you. From the moment you took Colin’s name as your own, you dedicated plenty of your time to numerous charities and this latest one had you all flustered - skin flushed from the thrill and from the cold wind.
As you burst into his office, eyes bright, hands fluttering around with elation, Colin fell for you even more.
Explaining your venture to your beloved husband, you could see the excitement come to light in his eyes. Pacing back and forth across his office floor, you explain how you want to raise money to rent rooms in a schoolhouse to improve education for young girls who would not typically have access to maths and English.
Colin loves the idea as much as he loves you.
But he had one question: “How are we going to raise the money?”
You smile. “This is the part you’re going to love… By carolling.”
————————
Colin had never his love of such songs from you. This would be your third Christmas as a married couple - he could hide nothing from you at this point, you knew him just as well as he knew you.
On the morning of the small carol concert, there’s a light dusting of snow on the ground. The air is cold; biting at your cheeks, reddening your nose and turning your breath to white puffs with ever exhale. Colin remains a warm presence by your side; keeping you close as he gathers your hands in his and rubbing them together, doing his best to rub some warmth into them.
Only a few had chosen to sing with you; a small group of ten gather together, drawing enough attention from passers-by to gather a crowd.
Song sheets are handed out and Colin takes a steadying breath before the group begins.
Colin’s voice is rich; he only holds back slightly but feels himself relax when you look up at him with such warmth and adoration in your gaze that his voice becomes louder and his smile becomes brighter.
It isn’t a long concert; five carols where three are Colin’s particular favourites. Applause greets the carollers as their final notes are stolen by the wind. The crowd disperses but not before dropping coins into their charity bucket and wishing them all an enjoyable Christmas period.
Colin remains where he is, watching you as you smile and thank patrons for their donation. Your smile lights up your face; your bonnet dusted with fresh snowflakes as the skies have opened once more. He feels his heart close to bursting in his chest from the pride he feels for you, from the love he harbours for you, and from the sheer enjoyment he experienced when singing.
As the last of crowd disappears, you wander back to man you love with your whole being. A smile is fixed on his face; his blue eyes bright with love as he grabs your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before stealing a kiss from your lips.
“Shall we head home?” Colin murmurs, feeling how cold your skin has become.
“I think it was a success,” You comment to Colin as you wander the short distance home.
“I have to agree,” Colin states, “It was a wonderful way to spend a winter’s morning.”
“Did you enjoy yourself?”
“I love carols, I love singing,” Colin begins, pausing the walk home to hold you in his arms. “But there is something I love far greater.”
“Oh? What is that?”
“You, my darling. You.”
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narcissisticmf · 11 months
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draw me | benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
description: you ask benedict to draw you, wearing almost nothing.
trigger warnings: nudity, sexual content, seductive behavior, oral sex, etc. please do not proceed in reading if you are under the age of 18.
word count: 1.8k
You walked through the halls with servants of the Bridgerton family, standing outside the opened door to Benedict's study, where he was working behind a canvas.
"You have a caller, Mr. Bridgerton," Stated the servant, bowing his head. You walked into the room, in a silk dress, a silver chain was dangling beautifully around your neck. You stared at Benedict with a soft expression, eyes gentle and calm.
"Leave us," Benedict offered a generous grin to his servants as they left the room, latching the door shut behind them. You continued gazing at him, never turning away, not even once.
"Am I too early? I didn't realize you were already working on something else," You explained as he stared at you with the utmost loving gaze.
"No, not at all, please, have a seat," He gestured to the sofa beside you. "Can I get you a drink?" Benedict asked politely after you planted your bottom against the soft cushions.
"I'm quite well for now, thank you," You admitted.
"Shall we get started then?" He smiled. You nodded softly. "I'd like you to lay down, on your back," He instructed as you did as told, you followed every word that he spoke. Your stomach bubbled with ease and excitement.
Benedict stared at you for a little while, his fingers gripping his chin as his eyes squinted, scanning your body's position. He walked over to you with a gentle demeanor.
"Permission to touch you?" He asked as he looked at you, his gaze never broke from you.
You looked up to him and nodded softly, "Yes."
Benedict gently grasped your wrist and moved your arm to lay against the top of your head. He stepped back and examined your position, smiling.
"Benedict?" You called softly after he had turned around to head back to his canvas, that was propped up on an easel. He turned around with asked 'what' with his eyes, pupils blown out.
"Might I make a small suggestion?" You asked and he nodded. "Wouldn't the image be more raw if my form wasn't so.. cladded?"
Benedict did his best to fight the growing smile. He agreed to your suggestion, as long as you were alright and comfortable. He made sure that you were one hundred percent on board with it.
After confirming your wishes, you stood up from the sofa and lifted the dress from the bottom, over your head, tossing the silk material across the room, beside the windows. You removed all your undergarments, and soon became completely vulnerable. Your breasts laid naturally against your ribcage. Benedict admired you, his eyes traveling up and down your exposed body.
You laid back against the sofa and fixed yourself to be in the form which Benedict had you in moments ago. All that was against your skin was a silver chain. Your hair was down and curled, the way your servants did it the morning of.
Benedict did his best to fight the smile that was against his lips. You smiled softly, but soon it ceased, wanting to keep a serious expression for the final product of the piece.
"Does an artist often blush when drawing one of their subjects?" You grinned mischievously as Benedict let out a small giggle.
"Shh," He hushed you and continued painting away. He managed to get every curve, every beautiful detail amongst your body, matching your skintone perfectly. He even got the subtle glassiness in your eyes and the way the sunlight reflected against your body and about the room.
You were unsure if it was the temperature of the room or the fact that you were at your most vulnerable in front of a man, but your nipples hardened and Benedict took notice of this. He smirked, a lopsided one and stared at you for a moment, ceasing his motions of the paintbrush.
"Are you cold?" He questioned.
"Uhm, no, why?" You asked.
"'Tis my duty as the artist to make sure that my subject is comfortable and satisfied in all ways possible," He replied with a grin.
You smiled softly as you watched him continue to illustrate. He was so focused, looking to you and back at the canvas every few seconds.
.
Finishing the image, Benedict smiled and turned his easel around so that you could see it. Your lips curved into a grin as you saw how beautiful the painting was.
"It's beautiful, Benedict," You replied, still lying there, unclothed.
"Thank you, Miss. Y/N," He replied with a smug grin as he stared at you, admiring your body. "Will you.. uhm.. be getting back into your dress now?"
You stared at him for a moment, thinking. "If you wish it," You whispered.
"I certainly do not, but do you?" Benedict asked.
"No," You replied quickly. He smiled, his most famous lopsided grin. You slowly arose from the sofa and noticed how Benedict's eyes were glued to you. You walked towards him and noticed he was backing into the bookshelf behind him, pressing his hands against it, for leverage.
"Permission to touch you, Miss. Y/L/N?" He breathed out, almost desperate.
You leaned forward to whisper into his ear, "Yes."
Benedict hastily wrapped his arms lowly around your waist and pressed his lips to yours. You cupped his face and molded your lips with his perfectly. He tasted of brandy and mint. His hands moved down your bare back and towards your bum, gripping your cheeks softly. You released a whimper against his mouth as you pulled back, resting your chin to his shoulder. Your lips parted, to allow soft whines and moans to escape. Benedict moved his lips down your neck and across your shoulder, burying his face into your skin.
He slowly stepped forward, guiding you to the sofa you'd be lying on while Benedict was painting. You sat against it while he begun to remove his coat, tossing it beside your silk dress. You stared at him, eyeing his body up and down. He smirked and removed his suspenders, then his blouse overhead, tossing it to the side. He unzipped the side of his pants and kicked them off effortlessly. Soon, he was left is absolutely nothing.
The sun was setting outside, creating a beautiful reflection of light against Benedict's skin. You smiled as he walked towards the couch, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You kissed him back and gripped his biceps, pushing him to sit beside you. You wasted no time and straddled his waist, draping your arms around his neck, molding your lips perfectly against his.
You'd forgotten about everything; the servants just outside the door, the painting, the fact that your actions were so scandalous that both your life and Benedict's could be ruined if anyone found out. You were focused on him and only him, it was tranquil and comfortable. You felt safer than you had in a long time.
Benedict's hands were holding your sides, slowly dragging his fingers to your back, tracing your skin lightly. You moved your hips with his softly, making him groan quietly into your mouth.
Without taking his lips from yours, he pushed your to lay against your back, so that he was on top of you. You pressed your fingers against his face, engrossed in the taste of him.
Benedict pulled back to admire your body a little long. He noticed how hardened your nipples had become. He lowered his head, without breaking eye contact and placed his lips around your left breast, sucking on your nipple. You whimpered, leaning your head back as the arousal begun to stick to your inner thighs. His eyes were on you the entire time. He moved from your left to your right, repeating the same actions.
You leaned your head back against the cushions, releasing moans that were soon suppressed by Benedict's palm. You closed your eyes and used on hand to push through his hair, gripping it softly.
He dragged his wet lips down your stomach, around your navel and towards your heat. You released a shaky breath as his breath fanned against you. You slowly spread your legs to make it easier access for him. He slipped one finger into your mouth, making you blink in surprise.
"Suck on it. We don't want any unwanted ears hearing us, do we?" Benedict stated as he looked up to you, only raising his eyes. You nodded and begun to suck on his finger, hoping it would be enough to keep you quiet.
He pressed his mouth against your private, using his tongue to toy with your folds. It took a lot for you to keep quiet, but luckily his finger was doing the trick. You closed your eyes as let the feeling consume you. You wrapped your legs around Benedict's shoulders as he moved his lips and tongue against your strings.
Despite his finger keeping you silenced, there was still a beautiful melody within your whines that escaped into the atmosphere.
After a little while, Benedict arose and removed his finger from your mouth, using it to softly graze across your folds. You bit your tongue, having no desire for anyone to hear, but there was adrenaline in that, in knowing you could be caught or heard.
Benedict was on top of you, yet again and held your side with one hand, pressing his lips against yours. You hummed at the taste of your own heat, finding it sweet yet savory at the same time.
You felt Benedict slip effortlessly inside of you. You gasped into his mouth, feeling so many ecstasies all at once. He moved his hips to and fro, feeling how loose you'd been. The comfort in him and his actions was unlike anything you'd ever felt before or experienced.
"Benedict.." You moaned into his mouth as he continued his motions. He was a moaning mess as well, perhaps that was why he was kissing you the whole time.
"You feel absolutely wonderful, Y/N," Benedict whispered through a broken moan.
You had locked eyes with him, as the two of you became close to undoing. You felt your stomach unravel all the knots, reaching your climax. Benedict swiftly pulled out of you, releasing his sticky load against your stomach.
You were both out of breath as he smiled down at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. He reached onto the ground to grab a cloth, gently wiping his essence off of you. He was sure to be careful, knowing that you must've been sensitive.
"That was perfect," You whispered, taking notice that the sun was already set and the moon was the only think illuminating the darkness of night.
Benedict smiled, chuckling lightly as he pressed a warm kiss to the corner of your mouth, "Perhaps, we should do this again sometime."
Smiling, you nodded.
.
a/n: hi, cuties!! so i just started watching bridgerton and i absolutely LOVE benedict! he's the sweetest character that i think i've ever seen and couldn't wait to write something for him! i'm sorry i haven't been posting much, work has been really crazy as well as my mental health. i hope you're all doing good! thank you so much for reading! — angelina. <33
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writeroutoftime · 15 days
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bridgerton
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-anthony bridgerton-
The Ruse - When you are in love with Anthony, and Anthony refuses to deal with his emotions, it is up to Benedict to step in and push his brother in the right direction 
Stolen Ribbons and Secret Smiles -  One day in the park, you stumble across the two youngest Bridgertons, which leads to a friendship with none other than their eldest brother
Should’ve Never Let Go - What once started as a engagement between two friends soon unraveled into a nightmare of heartbreak and sorrow that Anthony couldn’t fix
Women Run the World - After comforting Eloise about a woman’s lack to education, Anthony makes a less than ideal comment that does not end well for him
-benedict bridgerton-
A Melodic Language -  After a fight, Benedict tries to connect with you once more through music
A Lovely Sight -  On a sunny, spring day, Benedict can’t help but capture the lovely sight before him
The Duel - You are Simon’s sister feeling lonely in London, but meeting Benedict changes everything. when Simon catches the two of you in the gardens and demands a duel, you have to save the two idiotic men you love
-colin bridgerton-
Baby Makes Three - Snapshots of Colin throughout your pregnancy with your first child
Revolutionary Love - During the London season, you travel from America to stay with you grandmother. unfortunately, not everyone is as welcoming to you as you would have thought, but a certain Bridgerton seems to have caught your eye
-eloise bridgerton- 
Fools Together -  after a chance meeting between you and eloise, the two of you find yourselves entranced by one another and explore what your feelings (and a relationship) could be like
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-benedict bridgerton-
flufftober day 4 - cinderella moment
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-anthony bridgerton- 
Anthony Proposing to You Would Include...
-benedict bridgerton- 
Being Married to Benedict Would Include…
Seeing Benedict After a Long Time Apart Would Include…
-colin bridgerton- 
Being Newlyweds with Colin Would Include… 
-simon basset-
Having Your First Child with Simon Would Include…
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natti-ice · 25 days
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18+ mdni
I know this is literally so toxic but UGH I want it so bad!
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
Drunkenly arguing and screaming at each other all night over one little interaction you had with another man at a bar just because he’s so jealous and very possessive of you. He hates when other men speak to you, thinking they have a chance in hell of having what’s his. When both of you realize how stupid you both are acting, you have the nastiest, sloppy make up sex.
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d-targaryenshoe · 3 months
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Betrothed, Wed - Anthony Bridgerton
Word count: 2914
Summary: Being wed to one another is more than just an 'I do' is it not?
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The Bridgerton household was bustling with activity as the family gathered around the breakfast table. 
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm croissants filled the air, and the sound of cheerful chatter could be heard echoing through the corridors.
 It was a regular morning in the Bridgerton household, but little did they know, this breakfast would be far from ordinary.
As the family settled into their seats, Violet Bridgerton, the matriarch of the family, spoke up. 
"My dear children, I do hope there will be another grandchild soon," she said with a twinkle in her eye. 
This was a topic that was often brought up at the breakfast table, as Violet was keen on expanding their already large family.
Eloise Bridgerton, the second eldest daughter, was sipping on her tea when she heard her mother's words. 
She was taken aback and her eyes widened in surprise.
 She had not expected this topic to come up at the breakfast table, especially not so early in the morning.
As she tried to swallow her tea, she choked on it and coughed uncontrollably. 
Her siblings and mother quickly rushed to her side, patting her on the back and offering her water. 
Once she had regained her composure, Eloise glared at her mother and exclaimed
"Mother, must you always bring up the topic of marriage and children at breakfast?"
Violet chuckled at her daughter's reaction and replied. "Eloise, I am only stating the truth. Y/n is to be wed to Anthony today and it would be a pleasant surprise."
This was a common conversation in the Bridgerton household, as Violet was known for her love of children and her desire to have a large family. 
She had raised her eight children almost single-handedly after her husband's untimely death, and she cherished every moment of it.
Her children, on the other hand, had mixed feelings about the topic. 
Eloise and her younger sister, Francesca, were not as keen on the idea of marriage and children just yet.
Eloise had always been a headstrong and independent woman, and the thought of settling down and starting a family did not appeal to her. 
She had always dreamt of making a name for herself and pursuing her passion for writing. 
Francesca, on the other hand, was content with her life as it was and had no desire to conform to societal expectations.
Violet, however, was determined to see all her children settled and happy, and she was not one to give up easily.
 She continued to bring up the topic of marriage and children at every opportunity, much to the dismay of her children.
As they continued with their breakfast, the conversation shifted to lighter topics. 
But, the buzzing chatter came to a halt when the Bridgerton sister, Eloise, exclaimed.
“Have you all heard about the dress that Madame Delacroix has designed for y/n? It’s said to be one of her most exquisite works yet!”
The mention of the well-known designer, Madame Delacroix, immediately caught everyone’s attention, especially Daphne and Violet Bridgerton, who couldn’t hide their curiosity. 
You were a close family friend and recently engaged to Anthony Bridgerton, the eldest Bridgerton brother. 
The news of your betrothal had created quite a stir in London’s high society circles.
And now, there was talk of a special dress designed just for you by Madame Delacroix herself.
Eloise, who had heard about the dress from Lady Danbury, eagerly filled in her family with the details.
 “Apparently, Madame Delacroix has designed the dress keeping in mind y/n's vibrant and lively personality. It’s going to be fearless and assertive, just like her,' she explained.
The mention of an unconventional dress for a bride-to-be piqued Daphne’s interest, who had made a name for herself.
 “Well, this sounds like a dress worth seeing. I might even have some pointers for my dear sister-in-law,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
Violet, the matriarch of the Bridgerton family, couldn’t help but smile at the prospect of seeing you in a dress that truly represented you.
 “I have always admired Madame Delacroix’s work, and I am sure this dress will be no exception. It will be a perfect reflection of y/n's character,” she remarked.
Daphne leaned in, her voice low and conspiratorial. 
"You know, Mother, I think it's time we assisted y/n to get ready for her big day. Eloise and I can take care of making sure the carriage arrives on time." 
Violet nodded in agreement, her eyes twinkling with delight.
 "That's a splendid idea, Daphne. Why don't you and Eloise ask Maid Rose for that matter while I help y/n with her wedding dress?"
You looked up at Violet, your heart swelling with gratitude. 
You always admired the older woman's grace and beauty, and the thought of having her help you get ready for your wedding was more than you could have asked for. 
As you stood, Violet placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. 
"You look stunning, dear. Now, let's get you into your dress and make sure you're ready to walk down the aisle in class."
Together, you made your way upstairs to the dressing room, the other women of the Bridgerton household trailing behind you. 
Eloise chuckled, "I can't wait to see you in your dress, y/n!" 
You blushed, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You turned to Violet, who was already helping you unbutton your gown.
 "Thank you," you whispered. "For everything."
 Violet smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "It's my pleasure, dearest. Today is all about family, after all."
As they helped you into your wedding dress, the other women clustered around, offering their assistance and well wishes. 
Daphne secured the last of the buttons, while Eloise fussed with the veil until it was just so. 
 You looked like a goddess, ready to embark on your happily ever after.
Finally, they all stepped back to admire their handiwork. There was a moment of quiet as if everyone was taking in the significance of the moment. 
And then, Eloise, never one to be at a loss for words, squealed.
"You look absolutely radiant, y/n!"
 The others chimed in, nodding in agreement, their eyes shining with tears of happiness. 
You felt a lump form in your throat as you turned to Violet. 
"Thank you," you whispered. "For all of this." 
Violet reached out, taking your hand in hers. "Oh, dear," she said with a wink, "You're the one who's to be wed today."
And then, there was a knock at the door.
Violet Bridgerton, looked up from where she was standing in the room, her attention momentarily diverted from your dress. 
"Yes?" she called, her voice calm and composed.
There was a pause, and then the voice of Maid Rose floated up from the hallway. 
"My lady, the carriage is ready to take you to the chapel."
Violet smiled, nodding her approval.
 "Thank you, Rose. Please notify the driver that we will be on our way shortly." She turned back to her daughters and you.
 "Everyone, it's time. Let's make our way downstairs and get to the chapel."
Daphne, a blush prominent on her cheeks, stepped forward and took your hand. 
"Come, y/n. We'll carry your train together." 
As you all descended the grand staircase, the soft swishing of silk and the click-clack of heels echoed through the manor.
 Eloise, ever the curious one, darted ahead to peek out a window, marveling at the carriage outside.
When you reached the bottom of the staircase, Violet paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, she felt a pang of pride and sadness all at once.
Knowing that this day would mark a new chapter not only for you and Anthony but for her family as well. 
She squared her shoulders and led you all out the door, towards the awaiting carriage.
The sun was shining brightly overhead, casting a warm glow over the manor grounds as you walked towards the carriage.
As you neared the carriage, the coachman opened the door and bowed gracefully. "Good morning, ladies. Shall we be on our way?"
Daphne, still holding your hand, stepped up into the carriage and took a seat beside you.
 She glanced back at her mother and Eloise, a sparkle of anticipation in her eyes.
 "Thank you," she said, reaching out to help Eloise and Violet into the carriage as well. 
As you all settled in, the coachman shut the door and climbed up onto his perch, taking the reins in hand. 
With a snap of his whip, the horses sprang into action, carrying you and the three Bridgertons towards the chapel.
The air inside the carriage was filled with the sweet scent of flowers and the rustle of your dress as you shifted her position. 
Finally, you rounded a corner and spotted the familiar spire of the chapel poking above the treetops.
As the carriage pulled up in front of the chapel, Violet stepped out first, her dress swirling about her as she supported Daphne and Eloise's descent. 
She then turned to face you, taking your hands in her own.
"My dear, you look absolutely stunning. Daphne has done an excellent job with your hair."
You smiled shyly. "Thank you, Violet. I'm just glad that everything is finally here. I can't believe it's actually happening."
You glanced over at Daphne, whose eyes glowing with happiness. "I'm so glad you're going to be my sister."
Your heart ached at the thought of your late father not being there to fulfill this honor. 
You had always imagined him proudly by your side during this momentous occasion. 
With a heavy heart, you thought of your options. 
You didn't have many close male relatives, and you weren't particularly close to your mother either.
 As you deliberated over your dilemma, your eyes wandered to the elegant figure of Violet Bridgerton.
The family's matriarch, who had always been like a mother figure to you.
Summoning your courage, you approached Violet in front of the steps from the chapel. 
"Violet, may I speak with you?" you asked, your voice filled with trepidation.
Violet turned towards you, her eyes filled with warmth. 
"Of course, my love," she replied. "What troubles you?"
You hesitated before speaking, your voice quivering with emotion.
 "I… I don't have anyone to walk me down the aisle," you confessed. "Would you consider doing it?"
Violet's eyes widened, her face a testament to the surprise. 
"Y/n, I would be honored," she said, her voice filled with sincerity. "Your father was a dear friend of mine, and I would be overjoyed to stand in his place."
Relief swept over you, and tears welled in your eyes. "Thank you, Violet. You have no idea how much this means to me."
When the time came, you and Violet entered the chapel side by side. The guests rose, their awe evident in their expressions. 
Your eyes locked on Anthony, who stood at the altar, an enchanting smile gracing his handsome face.
As you and Violet glided down the aisle together, the sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the floor. 
The guests turned their heads, captivated by the sight of the bride and her mother-in-law.
Whispers of admiration echoed through the chapel as you and Violet's steps synchronized with one another. 
You both moved with grace and poise, your bond visible to all. 
It was a moment of pure friendship and love, transcending traditional roles and expectations.
When you reached the altar, Violet placed your hand in Anthony's, closing your hands together as a symbol of unity. 
The chapel fell silent, and time seemed to stand still amidst the romance and pure joy in the air.
Anthony stood tall at the altar, his heart racing in his chest, his midnight-blue suit a stark contrast against the gleaming white surroundings. 
Handsome and dignified, he anxiously kept his gaze fixed on you, his bride. 
His palms dampened with anticipation, his mind swirling with a mixture of nerves and awe.
Gasps of admiration echoed through the hallowed space, and even the rustle of dresses and suits seemed to quiet in reverence to her ethereal beauty. 
Father Timothy, a wise and gentle elderly priest, smiled warmly, his eyes twinkling with mirth and faith as he welcomed you and initiated the ceremony.
The atmosphere was filled with a mixture of reverence and excitement as you both exchanged vows, your heartfelt words carrying through the sacred space.
 The words, "for better or for worse," hung in the air, a promise that resonated with the sincerity and depth of your love.
 Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes as you spoke your vows, your voice filled with raw emotion.
Anthony's voice shook with emotion as well, his eyes locked onto yours, your love a definite force binding you together. 
The sunlight, streaming through the windows, seemed to bathe you both in a celestial glow as if bestowing blessings upon your blessed union.
Father Timothy's voice rose and fell, his words weaving a tapestry of guidance and hope for your future. 
He spoke of strength, warmth, and companionship, reminding you of the loyalty and support you both had vowed to offer each other. 
 The Bridgertons looked on with unwavering support and love, tears glistening in their eyes, knowing that this day marked far more than the union of you two.
 It signified the merging of two families and the creation of a new beginning.
As the ceremony reached its crescendo, you and Anthony exchanged rings, solemnizing your commitment to one another.
 The diamond on your finger sparkled, catching the light like stars in a midnight sky.
While Anthony's gold wedding band gleamed, symbolizing the eternal circle of your love.
With each heartfelt word and sacred act, the chapel seemed to hum with the intensity of emotions emanating from every person present.
 The love felt within those walls was palpable - a love that transcended time, a love that would forever be etched in the hearts of everyone who witnessed it.
Finally, Father Timothy proclaimed, "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."
As the swelling music filled the air, signaling the end of the ceremony, you and Anthony joyfully sealed your vows with a passionate kiss. 
Cheers erupted from the congregation, filling the chapel with exuberance and celebration, their applause reverberating against the high ceilings and intricately carved arches. 
It was a moment of pure bliss, two souls basking in the enchantment of newfound union.
The chapel doors swung open with a gentle creak, and all eyes turned to gaze upon you as a newly married couple.
Y/n and Anthony Bridgerton.
 Your heart fluttered with excitement as you clung to Anthony's arm.
Feeling the weight of your future and the promise of a lifetime together. 
You had dreamt of this day for as long as you could remember, and now it had finally come true.
The sun filtered through the stained glass windows, casting a warm glow on the white walls of the chapel.
 Soft music played in the background as you and Anthony made your way down the aisle, your steps light and graceful. 
As you reached the doors, you paused for a moment, taking in the sight before you. 
The courtyard was bathed in sunlight, a sea of vibrant colors and delicate scents. 
The guests held flower petals in their hands, ready to shower you with love and good wishes.
You could hardly contain your excitement as you and Anthony stepped outside. 
The air was fragrant with the sweet smell of blossoms, and the sound of laughter and clapping filled the courtyard. 
As the guests threw flower petals towards you, you were both enveloped in a cascade of petals, a beautiful shower of nature's confetti.
You looked up, your eyes sparkling with joy.
 The sky seemed bluer than ever, a perfect backdrop to your special moment. 
You could feel the weight of tradition and happiness settle upon your shoulders, lifting your spirit into the realm of pure bliss.
 This was the start of your journey, a new chapter in your love story.
Together you made your way through the sea of flowers, your steps like a waltz, graceful, harmonious, and full of promise.
 The petals clung to your clothes, creating a tapestry of colors that seemed to dance with your every move.
 Each step you took felt solid, like building blocks for your future together.
As you reach the center of the courtyard, you let your fingers trail along the stone fountain, cool and inviting.
 The water shimmered under the sunlight, mirroring the happiness in your eyes. You turned to Anthony, your heart overflowing with love.
"Can you believe it?" you whispered, your voice filled with awe. "We're married. This is our forever."
Anthony smiled, his eyes locked with yours. 
"Yes, my love," he said softly. 
"This is just the beginning. And I vow to you, every day will be filled with the same satisfaction and devotion as today."
Your heart swelled at his words, and you knew at that moment that your happiness was boundless.
 You glanced around at your guests, your faces glowing with affection and admiration. 
It was then that you realized your love story was not just yours alone.
It was a tale shared with your closest friends and family.
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