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dragon-kazansky · 4 days

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Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

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

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Nine - Late night scandals

♡♡♡

"What do you think Bridgerton?"

Benedict turns around to find the artist he had accidentally offended at the gallery the other night.

"This one more to your liking?"

"Mr. Granville--" Benedict raises from his chair to approach the man.

"Perhaps they should take it over to Somerset House so it can be skyed right next to mine."

"I believe I owe you an apology, sir." Benedict says, feeling rather embarrassed.

"Unnecessary. I actually quite enjoy the eloquent stings of your critique. So?" He gestures back to the painting on the wall.

"A touch morose for my tastes," Benedict says.

Henry points to the next one.

"A tragedy. The hound deserved better," Benedict comments.

Granville laughs. "Where is yours?"

"My..."

"Your work," Granville clarifies. "Are you tell me you're not an artist yourself?"

"Well, I-- I suppose sometimes I like to... Well, I mean, I almost--"

"I believe 'yes' and 'thank you' are the words you seek. But either way, you should come by my studio." Mr Granville holds out a small card to Benedict, who accepts it. "The pieces I do for myself are there, and I think you will find my real work far less, um... Oh, how did you put it? 'Cold and lacking inner life?'"

Benedict scrunched up his face as he nodded, still burning with embarrassment. "I shall never live that down, shall I?"

Mr Granville leaves.

Benedict returns to his table where he had been absentmindedly doodling. Eyes. He was sketching out a pair of eyes. Pretty ones. From memory.

He sighs and closes the sketchbook.

♡♡♡

As you sit in the drawing room of the Bridgerton house, as invited by Violet, you discover that she had no idea about the boxing match, or that Daphne had been there.

You keep your eyes focused on the latest Whistledown paper, though you had stopped reading it.

Daphne was playing the piano while her mother interrogated her.

"A boxing match is no place for any young lady." Violet sighs.

"Is it a place for a prince? Was he at today's match, sister?" Hyacinth asks.

"He certainly was."

"It is a loathsome and barbarous form of entertainment," Violet was very displeased.

That was when Daphne took the opportunity to mention you had gone as well, which had Violet looking at you.

"You too?"

You glare softly at Daphne, who gives you a smug little look. Crafty one, she is.

"Anthony invited me," you admit.

Violet looked terribly ill all of a sudden. You were sure she would being this up with her eldest son at some point.

"What about the duke?" Hyacinth asks.

"What about the duke?" Both Violet and Daphne ask at the same time. You eye Daphne curiously from your seat.

"Was he also present?" Hyacinth asked, less enthusiastic now.

"I do not know," Daphne says. "If the duke was there, I did not see him."

Hyacinth leaves the piano to go see what Eloise is up to. She had been scribbling away in her book since you arrived.

You put the Whistledown column down and rose from your seat to seek entertainment near the window. Watching the street was surely more entertainment than listening in on that conversation.

Anthony enters the room and greets both his mother and his sister. You turn and he greets you too.

"Did you truly take your sister to a boxing match?" Violet hounds him.

"Your admonishment will have to wait. I have news," he cuts her lecture short. "Prince Friedrich has asked for my permission to propose." He looks at Daphne.

She stops playing. "So soon?"

"Well, what did you tell him?" Violet asks.

"That I know better than to answer for my sister. I have no objections to the man. People speak well of him. Whatever you decide, Daph, you shall have my support."

You look at Daphne quietly.

"I... uh... I..." She doesn't know what to say.

"You need not decide now," Violet tells her. "You certainly have no known him long."

"Let me know when you have an answer, and I shall convey it." Anthony says to his sister.

"Indeed." Daphne looks at him.

Anthony leaves as quickly as he came in. It was clear Daphne needed time to think.

♡♡♡

When Daphne had pleaded with you to attend the next ball with her, you couldn't say no. There was a sadness to her gaze, and you wondered from where it had risen.

Something had happened between her and the duke, and she had been off kilter ever since.

The ball, like all had been so far, was wonderful. The theme was a little more out there this time, but everyone was behaving quite perfectly.

You were standing with Daphne as she scanned the crowd. Exactly who she was looking for, you weren't quite certain. You would suggest the prince on the account that the duke was apparently leaving London tonight.

The prince could be seen across the room. He was in conversation with someone. You glance toward Daphne, but your gaze shifts as Cressida Cowper comes over. You give Daphne a gentle nudge.

"Daphne." Cressida chuckles. "You look beautiful, as always."

"Thank you, Cressida," Daphne says politely.

"You could have chosen anyone," Cressida says. "You have gentlemen lined up to pay you tribute. Yet you did not hesitate to steal my chance for happiness away, did you? I knew the marriage market would make rivals of us, but I never thought youcapable of being my enemy."

"The man made his choice, Cressida. What did you expect me to do?" Daphne asks.

Daphne walks off in the direction of the prince. You look at Cressida and then walk off in the other direction.

There is nothing you could ever say to her.

You begin to walk alongside the dance floor, watching the couples dance. A hand comes into view, and you turn to see a friendly looking young man smiling at you.

"May I have this dance?"

You take a moment to gather yourself. You had hoped one of the Bridgerton boys would be here to dance with you, but you supposed you couldn't rely on them every time.

"You may."

You go with him to dance.

It seemed Benedict wasn't here.

♡♡♡

Benedict was, in fact, making his way to the studio of Mr. Granville. He was intrigued by the artist.

He finds the address and knocks on the door. Henry Granville answers.

"Mr. Bridgerton."

Benedict stands there a little awkwardly.

"Come in, come in."

Granville lets him in. Benedict enters and follows him. He is led further inside and finds himself in a large room. A circle of easels presented around two nude models.

"I do not know what I was expecting, but it surely was not this." Benedict says.

"Oh, simply a gathering of like-minded souls." Henry tells him. "Here, let me show you what I've been working on."

Benedict is led further inside the studio. He passes a couple of painters discussing war so causally.

"What do you think?" Henry asks.

Benedict walks over and takes a look at the canvas.

"Hmm. It's a far cry from Somerset House, I must say."

"I shall take that a compliment."

They both chuckle.

"And I must say, I'm truly jealous. Is this your life?" Benedict asks.

"There are advantages to being the second-born." Henry tells him. "Heirs have the responsibility. Second sons have the fun."

They both chuckle again.

"So... why not go have some fun?" Henry gestures to the models. He's giving Benedict the chance to epress himself through art.

Benedict picks an easel and sits down.

♡♡♡

As you dance once again tonight, you spot Anthony standing off to the side. He's staring at the opera singer.

You hard heard whispers about him being infatuated with an opera singer, but had no idea if there lay any truth to them.

You continue dancing with your partner.

Benedict was still a no-show tonight, which you found to be rather disappointing. You had been looking forward to another evening of his little quips and teasing.

When the dance ends, you curtsy to your partner and head in the direction of Anthony and Violet. Lady Bridgerton had tries to introduce her son to a rather pretty young lady, but he showed no interest.

"Shall we dance, Lord Bridgerton?" You ask, looking at Anthony.

He turns and looks at you, for half a second, thinking you were another lady his mother was intent on pushing on him.

"Yes, let's." He offers his arm, and you take it. Violet watches you both go. Even if he chose you, she would be pleased, but she knows her son will not take you as his wife. You're his friend who has come to rescue him from her for a while.

Violet downs a third glass of champagne.

"She is persistent," you say.

"Hm?"

"Your mother."

Anthony chuckles softly. "Yes. Quite."

"The opera singer..."

He looks at you.

"Nevermind. Its not my business."

Anthony's expression softens. "I was - am - found of her."

"Yes. I assumed as much."

Anthony sighs. "It's complicated.

You nod and say no more on the matter. Anthony spins you around elegantly.

"Is Benedict not here tonight?" You ask, twirling with him.

"Benedict? No." He gazes at you. "Why do you ask?"

"I just noticed his absence."

"Missing your dance partner?" He teases.

You chuckle. "Am I that obvious?"

He winks at you, and you shake your head with a smile. "I'm fond of you boys. I can't help it when I notice one of you is missing."

Anthony grins. "How lucky we are to have gained such a special friend such as you."

As Anthony gives you another turn around the floor, you spot Colin speaking with Penelope. You smile softly at the sight and then turn your attention back to the eldest brother.

At least you'll have one Bridgerton on your dance card tonight.

As the next dance begins, Anthony keeps your company longer. You're aware this may catch attention from others, especially Lady Whistledown should she be here, but none the less, you dance with him twice.

You soon see that Colin has left Penelope on the sidelines to dance with Miss Thompson, and you also find the prince talking to Daphne amidst their dance.

The dance ends, and you manage to catch sight of Daphne fleeing the ballroom.

Anthony bows, and you curtsy.

"Until next time." He nods his head at you. You smile and nod, taking your leave. You worry about Daphne and intend to go check on her, but you're stopped by another gentleman.

You sigh and realise you'll have to dance with him before you can flee again.

The dance feels like it drags on, and on, and on. You smile, you listen to your partner talk, but your mind is focused on Daphne. She did not look well when she fled.

When the dance ends, you spot Anthony leaving the ballroom. You waste no more time and follow him.

He heads outside. You follow.

"Anthony?"

He turns and looks at you. "Go back inside."

"What's the matter? What's happening?"

"Did you see him?" Anthony asks urgently.

"Who?"

"The duke."

"He is here?"

"He was, and now I can't find Daphne." You realise he's concerned about his sister.

You hear something further in the garden, and Anthony hurries off. You follow him, close on his heels.

What you find is not what you ever expected to see.

Simon and Daphne were not just kissing. His hands were all over her. Her dress had been pulled down. You cover your mouth, though you can not hide the gasp that escapes you.

Anthony runs at Simon.

"Bastard!"

Simon receives a strong punch to the face. He falls to the ground, and Anthony takes another swing. He punches him a third time and then stands beside his sister. You hurry to her other side and checks her over.

"Daphne..."

She is speechless. She has no words for you. They have been caught in a compromising position.

"You will marry her," Anthony declares.

"What?" Daphne looks at her brother.

"Immediately. We can only hope no one saw you take such liberties, and my sister is saved further mortification. You will marry her!"

Anthony is angry.

"Brother!"

"I cannot marry her," Simon says.

"You have defiled her innocence, and now you refuse her hand? I knew you were a rake, Hastings, I never thought you a villain."

"I cannot marry her," Simon states more firmly.

Daphne looks hurt.

"Then you leave me no choice. I must demand satisfaction."

"A duel? Anthony, you cannot--" Daphne begins.

"He dishonours you, sister." Anthony looks at her. "He dishonours you and me and the very Bridgerton name. I have misjudged you, indeed. You have duped us both, but I shall not see my sister pay for my own misdeeds. We will settle this as gentlemen."

"I understand," Simon agrees. "I shall see you at dawn."

"I do not understand," Daphne says softly. "You would rather die than marry me?"

You look at Simon quietly.

"I am truly sorry."

"We need to go, Daph. Before anyone should see us." Anthony says softly.

You reach out for her arm gently and pull her away, Anthony follows you both.

Daphne takes her brother's arm after he begs of you not to say a word about anything. You swear by it, looking him in the eye. Anthony thanks you.

You drift off from them as you enter the ballroom once again.

Anthony approaches Colin and tells him he is taking her home. He asks Colin to take care of their mother. You decide to step in and help. Anthony looks grateful.

Anthony and Daphne leave.

Colin looks at you, but you just smile softly at him and ask him to help you with Violet. He doesn't say anything about Daphne or Anthony.

Neither do you.

♡♡♡

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

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watchmegetobsessed · 9 months

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SIREN

A/N: italrry is superior and im very much enjoying the content we've been getting

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

SUMMARY: It was supposed to be a little lonely getaway in your dad's Italian villa, but plans get a little messed up and you end up having to share the villa with your dad's friend, Harry.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

It’s fate.

Nothing else could explain how you ended up in Italy with your father’s hot friend you’ve had a crush on probably since you were eighteen, the man who was behind your sexual awakening and all your deepest, most dirtiest fantasies.

Well, you didn’t come here with him. You just ended up in your father’s villa at the same time thanks to a coincidence.

You were supposed to spend a week here with your two best friends, just sunbathing, eating pasta and pizza and drinking the days away under the hot Italian sun. It was all you could think about the past few weeks, but then they both ended up canceling on the trip.

Daphne had a family crisis, her mom broke her leg and her dad is away on a business trip until the end of the month, so she had to stay back and take care of her mom.

Syd on the other hand chose to spend the week with her boyfriend who is set to move to a different state at the end of summer, she’s been moping about having to go long distance for months now, so it wasn’t a complete surprise she decided to stay with Connor.

That’s how your plans were messed up, but instead of being upset and canceling the whole trip you decided to just come on your own, have some much deserved alone time and not let the circumstances ruin your mood.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, when you told your dad about the change of plans he completely misunderstood you and thought the trip was canceled, so he ended up telling Harry he could take the villa for his trip, because it would be vacant. You’d arrived just an hour before you heard the front door opening, you jumped over your suitcases and grabbed the closest thing you could reach, which happened to be your platform heels, you rushed down the stairs, ready to attack the intruder when you saw that it was Harry.

“What the–?!” he took a step back, dropping his duffel bags.

“Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me!” you groaned, dropping your arms. “What are you doing here?”

“Me? What are you doing here?” he asked back.

You untangled the story and realized that you both planned to take the villa at the same time. Harry offered to find a hotel, but you told him there’s no need.

“This place is big enough for the two of us.”

You could see some resistance in his eyes, but then ended up staying.

Now it’s been three days and you never want to leave this place and it’s only because of Harry.

It’s no news that the man is fine. At thirty-eight he is better than any man your age in any sense. Physique, looks, manners, there’s nothing you could bring up that Harry doesn’t check out. His ridiculously handsome face has been the subject of your wet dreams for a long time now and he is sporting a mustache, something you usually can’t stand on a man but Harry makes it look good, of course. His sporty figure is adorned by dozens of tattoos that are mostly hidden under his designer clothes, but you’ve been ogling them quite often since his arrival.

Every morning Harry goes on his run and you sit on your balcony when he arrives back, just so you can see him all sweaty. His short shorts, tank tops or no tops at all… It’s the perfect view for your morning coffee.

You haven’t mingled too often so far, Harry is here partially on business so he is usually out and about during the day. You happened to have breakfast at the same time once, then he gave you a ride into the town just yesterday. You run into each other usually in the evening, but you haven’t spent any time together.

It seems to be changing tonight however.

You spent the day on the beach, swam quite a lot so you tired yourself out enough not to want to go out for dinner this time. Instead, you made some pasta and got yourself some nice red wine, so you end up eating on the terrace by the pool, watching the Sun go down over the horizon. You hear Harry get home and expect him to go to his room, but he surprises you when he opens the sliding door and walks out with a plate and a wine glass in his hands.

“Hey, do you maybe have enough for another person?” he asks with a charming smile.

“Of course! Sit down!” you gesture with a chuckle. Harry sits by the table and fills his plate while you pour him some wine. “I don’t take accountability if it tastes shit though,” you warn him.

“I’m sure it’s great,” he smiles before digging in and you wait for your reaction. He lets out a pleased hum and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel it between your legs. “It’s good, Y/N. Really good.”

You take the compliment with a smirk as you take a sip from your wine.

At first you sit in a comfortable silence, you’re watching the view and Harry eats beside you, it’s quite idyllic.

“So how did you end up here alone?” he asks when he’s done eating. Leaning back he grabs his wine and watches you with curious eyes over the rim of his glass.

“My girlfriends ended up canceling, but I really wanted to get away so I decided to come alone,” you explain with a shrug.

“And no boyfriend to come with you?”

You can’t help but laugh at his assumptions.

“No, no boyfriend,” you say, finishing up your glass so you reach for the bottle and refill your drink.

“Why is it so funny?”

“It’s just… if you knew what’s been going on in my dating life, you’d have never asked me that.”

“Now that sounds interesting, fill me in.”

“I don’t want to bore you.”

“Nothing about you is boring, Y/N.”

The way he is looking at you has you swooning. Maybe it’s the wine buzz or more like his charisma, but he could get you to say… or do anything.

You tell him the long story of your ex, how he cheated on you and tried to blame it all on you, sometime halfway into the story Harry brings out another bottle of wine and by the time you get to your latest couple of disastrous dates you both are tipsily laughing.

“And then he asked if I wanted to come over, for real! I imagined us hooking up while his grandma is making cookies in the kitchen, fucking hilarious!” you cackle, gesturing around with your empty wine glass.

“Snacks after sex! That’s a win!” he laughs, making you practically wheeze.

“God, no, I hope I’ll never see him again,” you shake your head, placing the empty glass to the table as you pull up your legs while your laughter dies down. “Alright, we talked enough about my catastrophic dating life, now it’s your turn.”

“My turn?” He arches his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I wanna know all the juicy stories of your dating life, it’s only fair if you share it all too.”

“I don’t have anything mentionable,” he shrugs. “My last girlfriend was pretty okay, we just didn’t work out. I’ve only had one-night-stands since then, but nothing outrageous.”

“No awkward stories? Come on!”

“I swear!” he chuckles. “It’s always the same, I tell them what I want and they are okay with it. Sometimes they try to make it into more, but I’m always straight forward with them.”

“Oh my God! You and your fucking BDE!” you chuckle, not even surprised that he is excellent even in one-night-stands.

“BDE? What’s that?”

“You never heard it?” you scoff, Harry shakes his head. “Maybe I shouldn’t be the one explaining this one to you,” you chuckle, hugging your knees to your chest.

“Why?” he keeps pressing and the way his eyes pierce into yours has you folding already.

“Alright, you asked for it,” you chuckle, letting your feet return to the floor. You cross your legs and lean closer, as if you’re about to share a secret with him. “BDE stands for Big Dick Energy.”

You watch his reaction, his gaze darkens and you notice the change in his vibe, but you can’t tell where it’s heading, so you keep talking.

“It could originate from a lot of things, manners, a way someone acts usually, how they appear in front of others. It’s usually confident and self assured, but not too much, that could result in the polar opposite of BDE. How you react in certain situations… stuff like that.”

For a few long moments Harry just stares back at you, as if he needs time to process the information he just learned. Then he leans back, a tiny grin tugging on the corners of his mouth.

“And what’s the female equivalent of BDE?”

“No idea, Tight Coochie Vibes?” you joke, making him laugh out loud.

“So… you think I have that? Big Dick Energy?”

The words sound so obscene from his mouth, you have to stop yourself from whimpering.

“I don’t think, I know,” you confidently answer.

“Why?”

“Oh, you just want me to feed your ego now,” you chuckle as a breeze dances across your naked shoulders and you shiver lightly. The sun has set a while ago and though it’s still pretty warm outside, your strapless dress is definitely not enough to be just sitting out on the terrace.

Harry stands up and walks inside, only to appear with a blanket that he wraps around you.

“Thank you,” you smile at him.

The two of you sit in silence, but then you start talking, as if you were under a spell.

“It’s the way you walk,” you start, Harry’s attention snapping back to you. “And the way you treat others. You’re caring and considerate, but also… there’s a hint of dominance in you. It’s very hot.”

“It seems like you’ve been paying attention to me a lot,” he comments, obviously as just a joke, but you want to play a different game.

“Yeah, I have,” you admit and that something, that darkness flashes through his eyes again.

“Y/N…”

“What?” you chuckle, the wine you’ve consumed has definitely brought your braveness out of you. “I’m just telling the truth. You’re obviously a charming, handsome man, inside and out. And I’m not blind, Harry.”

“No, you’re not blind, but you’re also quite young.”

“I’m twenty-five. I have several girlfriends who like to date men in their forties and it’s totally fine.”

“It’s absurd,” he shakes his head, looking out to the starry night sky.

“What?”

“That we’re even talking about this. How did… fuck,” he breathes out and you know this is the moment where you should just keep pushing it and then… you might get what you’ve always wanted.

“Two adults talking about their attraction, that does not sound absurd to me… or… do you not find me attractive?” you ask, tilting your head to the side, looking as innocent as possible.

“I do,” he answers right away, his honesty surprising both you and him. “I do,” he then repeats. “But you know it’s… complicated.”

“It’s not. I want you. Do you want me? It’s a simple yes or no question.”

Harry’s gaze burns into yours, his jaw clenches and you notice how his knuckles are turning white as he is gripping the arm of his chair. You’ve never wanted anything more than to just climb into his lap and finally find out if he really does have a big fucking dick.

But then the moments pass by and he remains silent, your courage deflates and your doubt bubbles from the back of your mind where you kept your rationality during this whole conversation.

Chuckling, you shake your head and get yourself ready to leave or more like escape.

“Forget about it,” you sigh, as you slip your feet back into your slippers. “I had too much wine.”

From the corner of your eyes you see him nodding. You’re already regretting being so bold, because there’s an obvious awkwardness lingering around you now, but then, as you stand from your seat and the dizziness hits you in the head and you lose your balance. You start falling, but Harry jumps to his feet and catches you with ease, pulling you into his steady embrace, your face now only an inch away from him.

“Careful,” he breathes out, his hand pressing into your lower back while yours is resting at the base of his neck.

Up this close, he looks even more irresistible, you can see every freckle and blemish and those unfairly curly eyelashes framing his gorgeous, green eyes. Your lips are tingling, begging to make contact with his skin.

His gaze drops to your lips and you’re convinced this is the moment he will give in, but then something else, something confusing happens.

One of his hands reaches up, cupping your jaw and he runs his thumb across your trembling bottom lip, but instead of kissing you he just says:

“Siren.”

Before you could question, his hold loosens around you, only keeping a gentle hand on your back.

“You think you can walk up to your room alone?”

“I-I’m good,” you breathe out, feeling enchanted by his closeness.

“Good night, Y/N.” His hand falls from your back and you want to beg him to keep touching you, but you just mumble your goodbye and then somehow walk back inside, though you feel like you’re sleepwalking.

Harry stays outside and when you go back to your room and step out to your balcony, you catch him still sitting outside, leaning forward, his face buried in his hands. Then, as if he could feel your gaze on him he stands up, picks up the two glasses and the empty wine bottles and walks inside.

You hear him shuffling downstairs and then his bedroom door closing. Your heart still hammers when you fall into bed and drift off to sleep.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

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