#colin bridgerton x reader

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Requested by:anon,Forever tag: @missmelodramatic,@theletterhart,@alex–awesome–22,@elllie-does-the-posts,@floatlosers,@merlieve,@queen-of-books,@glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown,@automaticbakeryfreakshoe,@meyocoko,@bubblybrianna,@october-leaves,@kazbekkarluvbot,@freyathehuntress

Summary:Daphne insists on Colin to tell her where the duel is held. It just leaves Colin in a dilemma. What do to about you (around Hyacinth’s age)? He can’t leave you unattended.

“Where are they!” – vented Daphne out, bursting into the parlor. You gasped when she entered so furious. Her cheeks puffed up, her face turning a shade of red. – “Who? Daphne, you have to be more precise.” – answered Colin who was playing the piano. His fingers brushing the keys as a soft melody filled the room. Daphne came standing by the piano, her face sour as if she was about to burst. – “I think you know very well of who I speak!” – replied she, looking over her shoulder to you. She granted you a smile before removing all traces of it towards her brother.

Colin swallowed nervously, continuing to play the piano as if nothing was out of the ordinary. – “You mean Mama?” – asked you, thinking it was her Daphne was looking for. – “Anthony!” – shouted Daphne out. So loud it made Colin touch the wrong notes, ending the sweet melody with a hard clash. The sound was so sudden and loud, it made you cover your ears. The book suddenly shut before you reached the ending. Colin got up, taking Daphne by her elbow. He pulled her closer to the window, away from you. Daphne moved her arm up so his grip on her would lose. – “Don’t tell me you have not a clue, because I know you do.”

Colin inhaled deep, looking nervously away. – “Tell me where they are, brother. You need to tell me.” – whispered Daphne to him. She tried her sweet approach, hoping to gain favor this way. Colin pressed his lips together, slightly shaking his head. – “It is a matter of life and death!” – Daphne raised her voice a bit, yet still out of reach to you. – “Daphne…” – started Colin. Daphne moved her hand up, annoyed by his presence. – “You know where they are! Tell me!” – begged Daphne. Colin sighed looking past his shoulder over to you. You were staring with wide curious eyes at your siblings, trying to understand what was happening. – “Colin!” – called she out, losing her patience.

She grabbed him by the arm, pulling him along. – “Daphne wait!” – Colin twisted his arm so that Daphne released her grip on him. – “I can’t…” – said he, looking ashamed at the ground. – “You will take me to them!” – Daphne was determined to reach the duel before any true harm was done. She took his arm again as Colin moved it out of her way. – “I can’t!” – repeated he himself, leaning in closer to her. His eyes wandered off to you. Daphne lifted her shoulders a bit up, following his gaze.

“Then I shall go on my own!” – decided she, taking the back of her cloak as she spun around. Colin gritted his teeth, going after her. You straightened your back at bit, seeing them run out of the parlor, leaving you alone. – “I cannot leave her alone!” – bit Colin at her, agitated that Daphne would even suggest such a thing. She stopped at the door, turning towards him. – “Then stay here, but simply tell me where they are.” – insisted Daphne, not wanting to waste another minute. Colin inhaled sharply. – “I cannot leave you unescorted!” – called he out. – “And I cannot leave Y/n unattended!”

Such a conflict he found himself in. The duty of a brother slowly weighing on his shoulders. A weight he had not yet felt so heavy of a burden. It was his duty to escort Daphne. Yet it was also his duty to attend to you since they were the only one’s present at the house. – “Make your choice!” – Daphne pulled the hood from her cloak over her head, heading out of the door. Colin groaned in frustration, balding his hands. What must he do. If mother ever knew of this, he would hang.

“Y/n!” – called he out loud from the hallway. You got up, walking out of the parlor. – “Yes, brother.” – said you, still holding the door as Colin motioned for you to come over quickly. You ran up to him while he snapped his finger at the doorman. – “My sisters cloak!” – insisted he. The doorman bowed, parting from his position to go and fetch your cloak. – “Where are we going?” – asked you curiously. Colin knelt down on one knee before you, sighing deep. – “You cannot tell anyone of this.” – breathed he out. Your cloak arrived as Colin moved it around your shoulders.

He tied the cloak for you, moving the hood over your head. – “Is this like a little secret?” – questioned. Colin stopped what he was doing, smiling at you for a moment. – “Yes.” – whispered he out, stroking your cheek with his thumb. – “Now we must make haste!” – He got up to his feet, taking your hand. You tried to catch up with his firm footsteps as it felt like you were running and he simply walking. Outside sat Daphne already on her horse, huffing in surprise. Colin his horse was brought to him. – “Don’t even speak about it!” – said he to Daphne, helping you up in the saddle.

You moved a bit closer to the horses head. Colin hoisted himself up, coming to sit behind you. He took the reins in his hand. You panicked a bit when the horses head went up. – “Colin…” – said you in sheer panic. Colin signaled the horse to move, giving it a kick with a loud command. The horse got in motion, practically moving from standing still to running in a minor of seconds. You closed your eyes as this was the first time you rode a big horse. You were used to practicing on pony’s that went slow, not a tall horse that went fully rogue.

Daphne’s horse was running just behind you, trying to catch up. She caught up, riding beside the two of you. – “We better be there in time!” – shouted she out. – “In time for what?” – shrieked you out, panic written all over your face. – “You should’ve talked him out of it!” – It was clear Daphne was not released of all her anger yet. – “Talking him out of it?” – yelled Colin back. His horse thumping on the stones as they made way for the fields. – “You do know we are talking about Anthony!” – reminded he her. With little to hold, inhaled you sharply and tense. Colin had his hands on the reins, no where near you. Of course were his arms in a way around you, but not fully.

“You could’ve tried!” – answered Daphne brutally. You yelped soft when you felt like your entire body was bouncing around. – “The hairs Y/n!” – called Colin out to you. You froze for a moment, not knowing what to do. – “Take the hairs Y/n!” – shouted he louder, sending a rush of panic over you. You hastily grabbed a hold of the horses hairs for grip, not knowing if it would hurt the poor animal. – “Don’t shout at her!” – shouted Daphne, redirecting her anger to Colin’s manners. Colin sighed loud, granting his sister with a glare. Every time the horses hoofs touched the ground, got you more anxious.

You wanted off. This was getting to much of a thrill for you. They ran up to a woodsier part of the fields to reach their destination. Daphne bowed her head, avoiding some twigs from slapping into her face. – “Where is it!” – breathed Daphne out. – “Just up ahead!” – pointed Colin out. – “That will take us forever!” – screamed she out. Daphne thought for a moment, remembering something. – “I know a short-cut!” – exclaimed she, signaling her horse to go left. – “Wait!” – Colin clenched his jaw, going in pursuit. Daphne galloped to a large hedge, splitting land into two. Colin made his way over to it as well.

You saw the hedge, seeing Daphne jump over it with her horse. – “No…” – mumbled you out. – “No, no, no.” – your voice getting a bit louder each time. Going in full panic mode, didn’t want you to jump. You had never jumped with a horse. Certainly not a tall one as this one. – “No!” – called you out loud, protesting. Colin got startled, unable to see your facial expression. – “It will be alright Y/n.” – reassured he you. You shook your head, leaning back against his chest. – “I want off. I want off!” – shouted you, trying all to make him stop. – “Y/n, I…” – responded Colin, approaching the hedge.

You screamed loud, not wanting to go but you had no choice. Colin squeezed his arms closer to your body so that he could give you some sort of protection when the horse flew over the hedge. It landed on the other edge as you were full on crying. Colin signaled the horse to go faster, wanting to catch up with Daphne. – “Y/n I’m sorry.” – said he, hearing you cry. – “I truly am.” – In the distance saw he already Anthony and Simon, back-to-back. Benedict stood by a tree, keeping a close eye on Anthony. Daphne was guiding her horse towards them. Colin took a detour, coming closer by a different direction. He needed to get you out of sight before Anthony and Benedict would see you. Or he for sure was a dead man walking.

By a large tree, not far from them came Colin to a sudden stop. He jumped off, taking a hold of you, helping you off. Once your feet were on the ground, pushed you Colin off you. You wanted nothing to do with him for a while. Crying loud, walked you up to the tree. Colin going after you. – “Y/n I…” – started he, seeing your face was all wet from crying. You leaned against the tree, Colin coming to kneel before you quickly. – “Y/n I need you to do something for me.” – breathed he out, looking past the tree to where Daphne was. She was almost up to them if he didn’t make haste.

He moved his hand to your shoulder as you pushed it off. It pained him to see you so frightened like this. He never meant to scare his little sister like this. – “Stay here and out of sight! Please!” – begged Colin. He nodded, telling himself all will be well. Getting up, started he running. Anthony and Simon were ready to draw their pistols, pointing them at each other. Daphne interfered with her horse, startling the poor men. A gun shot was fired. You gasped, feeling as if you had skipped a few beats of your heart. Followed by loud neighing and shouts. A part of you wanted to look, but another part of you didn’t. Letting yourself slide down the bark, plugged you, your fingers in your ears to block the loud voices out.

Colin’s heart dropped, seeing Daphne lay in the grass. Anthony, Simon, and Benedict at her side quickly. – “Sister!” – called Anthony out at the same time Simon called out her name. Simon wanted to touch her, feel that she was alright when Anthony held him at a distance. – “Are you hurt sister?” – asked Anthony, fearing she might’ve been shot. Daphne got up, removing the hood from over her head. – “I am perfectly well, not thanks to you!” – spitted she out furious, getting up to her feet. – “What were you thinking? Running into a crossfire like that!” – shouted Anthony back. Colin slowly approached, nodding at Benedict as a reassurance that their sister was save.

“What were you thinking!” – fired Daphne right back at him. – “You men and your duels!” – scoffed she out. Daphne brushed some dirt off her cloak, turning around as she came face to face with Colin. She widened her eyes at the absence of you. Colin noticed the burning question on her lips, slowly shaking his head. He didn’t want her to ask about your well-being right here in the open. Daphne kept staring at him, tilting her head a bit to the side with a clear hint of her eyes. It made Colin widen his eyes as he had not thought of it.

How was he ever going to return home with you unnoticed. Everyone would head home together, so it was impossible for him to go unnoticed with you. Closing his eyes, cursed he at himself for not thinking this through. – “Well I suppose we all need a drink to forget about these events.” – pitched Benedict in. – “Agreed!” – bit Anthony, glaring at Simon. – “But you will marry my sister!” – insisted he. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. Not after witnessing the kiss between them in the gardens. Simon had to marry her, no matter how many times he insisted on not to. Everyone started to make their way over to their horses.

Daphne let Colin know to make haste decisions. – “Are you not coming brother?” – questioned Benedict, standing close to his horse. – “I…I…continue without me…” – said he, raising some questions to his brothers. – “I wish to see more of the view.” – Anthony laughed loud, ridiculing him. – “Don’t be absurd! Fetch your horse, Colin!” - Colin swallowed nervously, looking over his shoulder to where he left his horse and you. – “No…I…I really must insist.” – said he, hoping to persuade his brothers. Benedict quirked his eyebrow up, feeling as if something was off. – “Fetch your horse or I will!” – called Anthony out, pointing firmly at his horse in the distance. Colin exhaled deep, turning around.

Daphne slowly shook her head when he walked past. There was nothing for him to do but to go and fetch his horse. He could get on his horse, telling you he would come later for you? No that is out of the question thought Colin. He would never forgive himself for leaving you behind. Perhaps if he rode as last, no one would notice? Let you sit behind him so that his body would block out your posture. But how would that work at home when you descend? Perhaps there was nothing else to do but to face the consequence of his actions. In his mind acted Colin in the best way, pleasing both his sisters with what they needed.

You to be attended and Daphne to be escorted. If this was his walk towards death, he would take no other path. Colin arrived at the tree, disappearing behind it. Benedict frowned, giving his horse to Anthony as he followed. – “Y/n?” – whispered Colin. You wiped your cheeks dry, looking up to him. – “Can we go home?” – asked you, seeing him nod. He extended his hand to you as you took it. He left you by the tree, fetching his horse. As the tall creature approached you, gasped you loud, staggering back. Still frightened by it. – “It’s alright Y/n, I promise to take it slow this time.” – reassured he you.

“Y/n?!” – called Benedict out in surprise. His look of shock turned to anger when looking at Colin. – “You brought her here!” – yelled he out, lashing out to Colin. Colin stumbled back when his brother waved with his fist around. – “You wish to tell me you brought our sister to a duel!” – The others had heard the commotion, coming over as well. – “What is the meaning of this!” – Anthony widened his eyes as well at the sight of you. Gritting his teeth, felt he himself boil with anger. – “Explain!” – hissed Anthony at Colin. – “I…I…I had no choice! I had to escort Daphne but… I couldn’t leave Y/n on her own at the house.” – explained Colin.

“So you decided to bring her to a gun fight?” – yelled Benedict out, ready to wave his fist around again. – “I wouldn’t have brought her here if you didn’t start a duel in the first place!” – lashed Colin out, getting a bit tired that everyone was pointing fingers at them. Anthony was trembling with rage, ready to fight him. – “Stop!” – screamed you out loud, getting everyone attention. – “I want to go home!” – insisted you, stomping with your feet on the ground. Benedict noticed the glossy reflection in your eyes, hinting that you had been crying. He came kneeling before you, wiping your cheeks dry from the wet stains still visible. – “I want to go home…” – sobbed you out. Benedict nodded, wrapping his arms around you.

Anthony sighed deep, calming himself. – “Come along Y/n.” – said Colin holding his hand out to you. You gasped, leaning closer to Benedict at the sight of his horse. You didn’t wish to sit upon that animal any time soon. You shook your head, clamping onto Benedict for comfort. – “I am sorry.” – confessed Colin again, falling onto his knees. – “I never meant to scare you Y/n, I truly did not.” – you let go of Benedict, walking over to Colin. You hugged him, feeling him move his arms tightly around you. As if he was afraid, you would slip out of his grip if he loosened up for an inch. – “Forgive me sister…” – he moved some hair aside, kissing your cheek. You moved back, wiping your eye with your sleeve.

Anthony was glaring at Colin, demanding to have an explanation of your tears. – “I frightened her… with the horse.” – said he out loud. – “I brought upon her a fear of riding horses.” – Colin looked ashamed at the ground. Daphne came to his side, moving her hands to his shoulder. – “It will take time, but she might grow out of it.” – whispered Daphne to him. – “You are not to blame.” – Colin smiled faintly at her, giving her hand on his shoulder a soft squeeze. Anthony walked up to you, kissing the top of your head to sooth you.

“Will you ride with me?” – asked Benedict. – “I promise to go gently.” – reassured he you, offering you, his hand. You slowly nodded, walking up to him. He helped you on his horse, hoisting himself up behind you. You breathed out in shivers, sitting on top a grand animal again. Benedict moved one hand around your stomach, holding the reins in his other hand. – “We’ll go slowly.” – He gave the horse a gentle kick, setting it in motion. Your muscles pulled together from fright when the animal moved.

The horse walked slowly, almost parading. The others got on their horses as well. – “You do not need to wait for us.” – called he out to Anthony. Benedict looked down at you, smiling. You looked up to him, giving him a faint smile. – “We have all the time.” – whispered he out. Anthony nodded, signaling his horse to go faster. Daphne and Colin followed. Simon went his own way. Benedict and you rode on your own pace. He didn’t want your fear of horses to grow. You would make it back home, eventually. It just took a little longer.

——————————————–

knight in shining armor

benedict bridgerton x reader

summary: requested; when the knight in shining armor realizes he’s in love with his clumsy girl

warnings: best friends to lovers, talk of injuries

word count: 2.1k

Beauty can be found in repetition. In the comfort that comes with it, the assurance that life is going exactly as it is supposed to. That all the pieces are falling into place without fuss or feathers. That is what life felt like for Benedict Bridgerton.

There was nothing quite like coming home to a life that revolved around and around like a pretty little carousel after a long day of tedious painting, worrying over the works of his own mind and hand. Predictable life was so beautifully mundane and peaceful at times.

He always arrived back at the Bridgerton home typically just after three in the afternoon. That glorious slice of day when one is just at the peak of energy and yet the world is slowly beginning its descent into slumber. Clouds always roamed the skies overhead while a breeze rushed past and horse hooves struck cobblestone.

And without fail, he always heard the laughter once he stepped into the grand foyer. The noise seemed to ricochet off the marble, bouncing around the house as the pitter patter of feet followed not too far behind. Hyacinth and Gregory whooped and hollered like wild animals on their little stampede, pushing and shoving down the hallways. On their heels, like always, was Y/N racing behind them. Feet bare and skirts clutching in her hands, she leapt down the stairs, yelling for them to stop the raucous behavior yet laughing all the while.

A wide, tilting grin was painted across Benedict’s face at the sight. It always was. This was his welcome home party — these three hooligans that he called family and loved to the moon and back, then twice over again.

“I thought I told you no more running down the stairs,” he lectured teasingly, placing his hands on his hips. “You’ve already had a broken finger, a sprained wrist, and your left knee still isn’t right.”

His younger siblings laughed nonetheless, picking up their pace to reach the end of the stairs and then dart around the corner. Benedict sidestepped them, narrowly avoiding being barreled into.

Y/N huffed a little, darting down another few stairs, just feet from the bottom. “I’ve told you a million times, Benny. I’m not that—”

On the last stair, her feet slipped from beneath her, sending her careening towards the marble floor. And as always, like a comforting clockwork, he stepped forward to catch her. To wrap his arms around her and set her right.

It was just how the two neighbors were — Y/N falling or tripping over her own feet and Benedict there to be her personal knight in shining armor. To carry her to the house when she sprained an ankle, to wipe mud from her face with the sleeve of his shirt, to help her crawl over a fence. He was there for all of it and he wouldn’t consider trading it for the world.

“What were you saying?” he asked with a marvelous grin, one hand still lingering near her waist as he waited for her to find her footing once more. “That you’re not that clumsy anymore?”

Y/N smiled despite her better judgment, a dark teasing glint twinkling in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have fallen if you weren’t so…”

“What?” he laughed. “Handsome, talented, intelligent, clever, hilarious… the list could go on and on.”

“Infuriating!” she exclaimed, lightly slapping his strong shoulder as she grinned from ear to ear. “Cocky, arrogant, a know-it-all. Need I go on?”

Benedict scoffed and shook his head in amusement. Maybe he was all of the above, but it didn’t matter. He knew she wouldn’t love him less for it. Gently, he reached up and moved a fallen lock of hair back into place. “We both have our flaws,” he lamented. “Yet I would argue we are fairly near perfect.”

“That’s what I consider being a Bridgerton is.” Y/N smiled in the way that had him seeing stars, the contagiousness of it bringing a toothy grin to his own face. “Being insanely stubborn headed yet shockingly likable.”

Benedict laid a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “Well then I would say you are certainly a part of the family, Y/N/N.”

Stifling humidity and heat always came with the summer months and yet Benedict still lingered beneath the sun, leaning on the croquet mallet in hand. His jacket had been long abandoned and cravat loosened and yet he still felt as though he were sweltering. Not only from the heat, but from some other foreign feeling that stirred about within his mind.

For the entire afternoon, his eyes had been glued to Y/N’s back – watching how her skirts twirled in the wind, how her joyous laughter seemed to wick away the unbearable heat. She trotted about the yard with Benedict’s favorite mallet in her hand, the one he always handed off to her with a smile on his face. And throughout the day, he’d followed her like a stray dog begging for scraps. Always a step behind, lingering in the shadows unheard and unseen.

Y/N carefully lined up her next shot as the crowd quieted in anticipation. Even over a silly game, Benedict’s breath halted in his chest as he observed, crossing his fingers for good luck to pass along to her. She swung the mallet with trained ease and like clockwork, the ball rolled along and through the hoop.

Immediately she turned around, throwing both arms triumphantly in the air. “Did you see that?”

Benedict couldn’t help but smile deliriously like a fool. “Absolutely!” he cried with enthusiasm, applauding as loudly as he could manage.

Stepping by his side, Y/N allowed her mallet to drop to the ground as she greedily drank a cup of iced water. “I believe I’ve adequately shown the ladies that I do not plan to relinquish my title of The Queen of Croquet anytime soon.”

“You certainly did,” he enthused with a smirky smile he couldn’t manage to contain. “Even while making a complete mess of yourself.” Like a second nature, he took one of her hands in his, examining the small scratches laced around her arm and the layer of mud plaguing the bottom of her dress.

“I go where the game goes,” she said proudly, “even when it’s through thickets and mud holes.”

Taking off his cravat, he wetted it in a glass of water and then went to work, wiping away the dirt and grime from her scratched up arms. It was instinctual, his little routine he felt compelled to complete. “Then at least try to not injure yourself so much next time.”

“They’re only scratches, Benny. It isn’t like I fell and busted my head open.”

Glancing up at her, one corner of his lips tilted as he saw the fiery spirit in her eyes. The type that leaped and bounded at the idea of danger. “Then try for me?” he whispered.

At that whispered plea, the look in her eyes changed, morphing into something so deliriously soft and tender that Benedict felt his heart skip a single beat. He felt as though his soul was reaching out to hers, begging it to take his hand.

“For you,” she whispered with a tilting smile, “my knight in shining armor.”

In that moment, he felt his heart come to an easy still, pausing in his chest as though time itself had come to a halt. The heat was still there, flooding through his cheeks until he swore his whole face had likely turned to a peachy shade of pink. His lips gaped as his mind compelled him to say more, to find words to match the state of confusion he felt.

But before he could come to terms with himself, she had pulled away and picked up the mallet, holding it out for him. “I believe your game is about to begin soon, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Why of course, Miss L/N. How could I ever forgive myself for potentially being late to such a thing?” He did a little mock bow before stepping away, finding himself reluctant to leave her side. As he walked across the lawn to where his brothers waited, he instinctively glanced over his shoulder to find her in the mulling crowd once more.

“Took you long enough,” Anthony snapped. He fidgeted anxiously, bouncing one foot as he constantly readjusted the grip on his mallet. His shoulders tightened once Benedict rolled his eyes dramatically. “I have things to do – Edwina to woo, Kate to win over.”

Colin and Benedict’s gazes met for a single moment once Anthony stormed off, leading the charge in the way he always did. Silly smiles played across both their lips as they trailed behind, swinging their mallets absentmindedly.

Once more, Benedict glanced over his shoulder only to find Y/N staring back at him, a smirk painted across her face as she gave two enthusiastic thumbs up. That wonderful heat rose in his face again as he raised a hand, sending a little grateful wave her way.

Colin cleared his throat and knowingly gazed at his brother. “You love her.”

“What?”

“Do you not realize it?” he scoffed. “You are so head over heels for her that it isn’t even funny.”

Benedict drew in a deep breath as his gaze bounced between Colin and Y/N, the latter of which who was now turned away and snared in conversation with a different gentleman. He would have been a liar if he claimed the sight didn’t make his heart ache in a gnawing way, carving him up from the inside out. “I don’t—” he mumbled, falling over his words. “She… I…”

Colin’s lips lifted even more as he knocked his shoulder affectionately against Benedict’s. “I’m not a fool, brother. I know you and your silly little mind better than you do, and I know what that look in your eyes is.”

Benedict spent the entirety of the match scanning crowds, hungry for another glimpse of Y/N, instead of actually playing. Anthony bested him rather easily with Colin not too far behind the eldest, yet he hardly noticed his scathing loss at all. The only event his brain managed to focus on was Y/N’s interactions — how the new gentleman seemed to cling to her side, looking over her scratches with the same tenderness he himself had for her.

Once more, he felt a foreign feeling coiling inside like a dragon, breathing out fire with every taunting poke and prod. How long had it lived within him? Hiding away in some remote corner of his heart? Benedict didn’t have the faintest of ideas and yet there was some instinctual knowledge that the monstrous jealousy lived for one person only.

Benedict didn’t hear Colin’s calls as he crossed the lawn, dropping his mallet somewhere in the grass. He was greeted by Y/N darting across the lawn to greet him, the newest suitor left behind to gawk.

“You played wonderfully!” she called, carefully running across the uneven ground.

He couldn’t help but smile so widely that his cheeks began to ache as he shook his head in disbelief. “I lost — horribly so!”

She laughed wildly as she stumbled on her footing. “Does it matter? You’ll always be a winner to me!”

Just in time, he stepped forward to steady her. Both of his hands fell upon her shoulders, keeping her upright as the girl gazed up at him, the corners of her eyes crinkled from laughter. For what felt like the hundredth time, his heart paused and then leapt in his chest in a desperate bid to escape its cage of ribs.

“I care for you,” he shamelessly blurted. His hands dropped to hold her wrists tenderly, as though afraid she’d disappear the moment he looked away.

Y/N stared up at him with wide eyes filling with concern as her eyebrows threaded together. “I’ve never doubted that for a moment,” she responded. “You’ve always been there — through thick and thin; good, bad, and worse than bad.”

He tilted his head to one side as he silently implored himself to spill the words dwelling in his brain. The ones that had been there as long as time itself. “Not in that way,” he whispered. “I care for you in ways that I shouldn’t and more than I should as strictly a friend.”

“Benedict—”

“I’m consumed by you — your presence, the words you speak, and how you trip over your own feet. All of it, all of you.” His words quickly morphed into ones of pleading as he saw her eyes brighten with realization. “And I can’t— I haven’t the words to even describe the beginnings of it.”

She laid a gentle hand on his cheek, running her fingers over a trail of stubble. “You don’t have to describe it.” Her voice dropped into a whisper as she leant into his touch. “I feel the same — I always have.”

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@magpiencrow

Sat, 14 May 2022 20:19:46

acquaintances

anthony bridgerton x reader

summary:requested; when anthony doesn’t realize what is right in front of him

warnings:none (other than that I maybe didn’t pace this in the best way)

word count: 2.6k

“Shall we see what our darling Lady Whistledown has to say on this fine afternoon?” Benedict asked, one corner of his lips curling into a lopsided grin. He settled down next to Y/N, kicking up his heels and flipping open his pamphlet.

Anthony groaned softly, rolling his head from side to side as the joints cracked. “I was trying to enjoy the sun, Benedict. Not to drown in scandal.”

“I don’t mind hearing a little bit of drama,” Y/N said with a smile. The spoon in her hand clicked against the porcelain of her tea cup as she stirred the steaming liquid, a dash of sugar dissolving away with each stir.

“Of course you do,” Anthony sighed, gazing at her from the corner of his eye.

Eloise reached across the table, greedy fingers fumbling for a pastry dessert. She spoke rapidly while she ate, “Let me guess – she’s named a diamond and I’m not it.”

Shaking his head, Benedict laughed. “You’ll be relieved that she hasn’t.” He winked the moment their mother turned away, gazing across the rolling greens of the park. “But she has made some predictions.”

Those words certainly caught Lady Bridgerton’s attention. She turned her head quickly and peered over Benedict’s shoulder, drinking in the written words as if it were a fine wine. “Of what?”

“Couples,” he said with a hum.

“Well then who?”

Now everyone was leant forward in their seats, sipping on tea and nibbling on bread while silently imploring Benedict to read aloud for all. Even Anthony had stopped his anxious fidgeting. He only leaned back further into his chair, balancing dangerously on the back legs.

With a heavy touch, Benedict jabbed at the paper and drug his finger down along the margins. “The Otton girl and that one fellow that came in a while ago – the one who wears those horrid blue jackets. And Cressida Cowper and a man by the name of Matthews?”

Eloise gave a huff of triumph, holding her head higher. “Well that’s hardly any news. Getting a little slow, is she?”

Benedict’s lips suddenly curled into a mischievous smile. His gaze flashed up from the pamphlet, little jewels dancing about in his eyes. “And last but certainly not least,” he said in a mocking tone, “Lord Anthony Bridgerton and Miss Y/N L/N.”

A sharp chill worked through Y/N’s body, prickling her skin and burning her heart. Frantically, she glanced over at Anthony, trying to read the hidden messages carved into his stone expressions. Her heart raced in her throat, silently pleading with him to meet her inquisitive gaze. The eldest Bridgerton only tilted his head to one side, one corner of his lips pulling up in disbelief. “Ridiculous,” he scoffed.

Y/N’s parched lips gaped as the words couldn’t reach her tongue. It sat in her throat like a tangled web of horrid thoughts, fear devouring hope. “Why would it be ridiculous?” her voice cracked, showing the little fissures in her heart.

Anthony only grinned wider – that smile she had fallen in love with so long ago, when they were both shy children pressed up against the gilded walls watching couples twirling past. He sat upright in his chair, hands automatically moving down to smooth his attire. “We’re acquaintances – hardly friends,” he dumbly stated. “I don’t think we’ve even shared an interesting conversation.”

Benedict gasped dramatically, harshly kicking at Anthony’s legs underneath the table. “That is my favorite friend you are talking about!”

“It would be likelier for me to marry a Featherington,” Anthony said, practically laughing about the entire situation.

“And now you are talking about my friend’s family,” Eloise snapped. In one fluid movement, she stole the pamphlet from Benedict’s hand and folded it until it was only a fraction of its size. “It’s not like any of it is true anyway — she’s only making logical guesses which any one of us could make.”

Anthony dragged a hand over his weary face, rubbing at the fine lines of premature aging. “Logical?”

“If you think about it, Y/N does spend a fair bit of time in our household,” she said. “The season’s begun as well. Colin is away so he is not an option, and so it’s either you — Anthony or Benedict. And only one of you danced with her at the last ball.”

Y/N nearly choked on her sweetened tea. “As acquaintances regularly do.”

“It was friendly. Nothing more,” Anthony politely excused, his gaze meeting Y/N’s for one fleeting moment. “What sort of gentleman would I be if I neglected to socialize with a family friend?”

Benedict leaned forward in his seat and conspiratorially raised one eyebrow. “Or was it? Are you two hiding some deep dark feelings I am not aware of?”

In an instant, a fiery burning spread through Y/N’s face like an inferno. Her heart skipped a beat as she pondered the possibility of Benedict noticing her hidden feelings over the years — ones of affection for his older brother.

His gaze bounced between her and Anthony like a wild animal darting to and fro. If she knew any better, she would have said a blush was spreading across his cheeks. But this was Anthony she was looking at — he certainly wouldn’t be caught blushing like a fool gone mad.

“No!” Anthony suddenly said.

“That seems rather defen—”

“Not at all,” Y/N reassured, smoothing down the wrinkles of her dress with anxious hands. A tremble worked its way through her body, making every nerve jump and muscle quiver. “We can’t even agree on a simple thing. I say it’s raining, he says it’s sunny. I don’t quite understand what Lady Whistledown sees.” The lies left her tongue drowning in poison.

“Exactly,” Anthony quickly interrupted. Lifting his cup of tea, he nodded cordially to Y/N. “Now may we enjoy a quiet afternoon?”

Y/N halfway expected the prediction to ruin her season. Every person would have their eye turned to her – both in good and bad. Criticizing her moves, reading into every lingering gaze in Anthony’s direction. The ones that were never reciprocated.

And it did just that — the pamphlet only increased the intrigue swirling around her personality. Every fine gentleman in the Ton wanted a peek at the girl who supposedly snagged Lord Bridgerton’s eye. Of course, it wasn’t true at all, but they needn’t know that. If anything, Anthony only tried to avoid her more: avoiding her gaze, walking away when she approached. The only time they traded words was at Benedict’s command, his hands encircling their wrists to hold both parties in place.

She hated how easily he could skirt around her life, as effortless as a bird floating in the breeze. Y/N wanted him to burn in the same manner she did, as if her dress would leap into surging flames the next time he crossed her field of vision.

And on top of it all, she felt guilty for even thinking that way when there were a dozen men waiting on her doorstep with bouquets, eagerly waiting to sign their name on her dance card. What was so horrifically wrong with her that she couldn’t appreciate what sat in her palms?

They were all perfectly acceptable — of good breeding and drowning in wealth. All had an excellent education, fluent in multiple languages. They were dazzling on paper and yet in person? She couldn’t help but find the flaws in them all. One stepped on her feet endlessly while waltzing, an apology never once dropping from his lips. A second talked over her, not even allowing her to utter a single sentence. A third could only converse of the weather and a fourth tended to be too handsy for her liking.

Sitting at a small table along the edge of the room, sipping on a cup of tea, she found her eyes drifting back to Anthony’s looming figure across the room, despite the adequate company by her side. Even with his back turned to her, she could tell he was perplexed. It was found in the way his shoulders were held; hunched forward instead of starkly pinned back. In how he would stare blankly off at the crowd, turning a cheek to his jovial siblings. She thought of standing up, walking across the room with her head held high and inquiring what was wrong with him. It was off putting to see Anthony in such a state; lost and confused when he was so often quiet and stoney.

When his head turned to her direction, his heavy gaze settling over her, Y/N practically jumped in her seat, fumbling with her drink as she averted her stare.

“You wouldn’t believe what abomination I saw yesterday,” Charles said, throwing a stone into her world of thoughts.

Turning her gaze to the fellow by her side, she nearly felt guilty for being lost in the clouds when by his side. He was kind enough to endure sitting through her silent moments, gentle when dancing, a flair for mocking dreadful events like these, and handsome as well with perfectly groomed golden hair. And yet she couldn’t even remember his surname or what city he hailed from – only that he was proudly French with a slight disdain for the English. And that he wasn’t anything like Anthony.

He talked too much, far too loudly. He used his hands when making a speech, the pale things flapping about like startled birds a foot away from death. And when she countered him, he only dipped into her views – not even challenging her for a second.

It was deliriously affectionate and bitter all at once.

Taking another sip of her tea, she hummed, “What?”

Charles’s thin lips curled with humor as he tilted forward in his seat. “I saw a young gentleman – aristocracy, no doubt – setting a spaniel dog out on a hare.” Chuckling to himself, he shook his head causing meticulously placed locks to fall against his temple.

Y/N raised an eyebrow as she didn’t seem to follow his train of thought. “I’m afraid I’m not understanding the issue.”

“The spaniel was of the tall sort,” he said, demonstrating with his hands as he always did. “About yea high. Entirely inefficient for hunting small game.”

Tilting her head to one side, she tried her hardest to appreciate the quirkiness of his mannerisms. To find the small details that were irresistible to love. And yet her hands felt empty, every possibility falling through her fingers like grains of sand. “What sort would you recommend, Charles?” she asked plainly, searching the room for Anthony without a second thought.

“A basset bleu from Gascony, of course! Short and squatty yet beautifully tactile. They work like nothing else, you have to believe me.”

Y/N’s lips quirked for a moment. “Well if they’re short, how do you expect them to see above tall meadow grass? I would assume a stately dog who can get their task done with minimal effort would be preferable.”

A toothy grin spread across his face. “I believe I must digress. There are truly some impressive hunting spaniels – perhaps I should inform myself more on the breed.”

Y/N laid her hands in her lap, wringing her fingers together until her knuckles paled several shades. “It is okay for you to disagree with me, you know? Both of us can have educated, yet differing, opinions. That’s the joy of conversation.”

“Well, yes — of course,” he said, fumbling over his words clumsily, “but would it be the—”

“Would you excuse me?”

Y/N felt faint the moment she raised her gaze, only to see Anthony standing by their side with his hands clasped behind his back. The signature tight smile was engraved onto his face, eyes practically alight with a sense of mischief.

“I must steal Miss L/N away,” he continued with trained ease. “The matter is urgent, I’m afraid.”
Charles nearly leapt to his feet out of fright and expectation. Nodding and blundering about his words as Anthony only quietly offered his arm and a smile that stole the breath from her lungs.

Upon taking it, he promptly whirled her away from the chaos – Charles’s ramblings, prying eyes, whispered predictions, Lady Whistledown and her spies wherever they lingered. Walking and walking in silence until they ended on a balcony outside. Brisk spring air fluttered about outside, weaving through newly budding leaves until blue moonlight.

“What’s so urgent?” Y/N teasingly asked as her gaze languidly roamed the side of his face. “Has a grass blade split? A tree branch dying?”

For a fleeting moment, he gazed down at her as one corner of his mouth lifted. There was an innate tenderness in that look, the soft caress of a downy feather sweeping across her face. It fired a heat rising up her neck, basking her face in a fiery wonder as her heart skipped a beat too many.

“I needed to speak to you,” he confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “That is what was so urgent.”

Y/N’s lips curled into a wide, blazing grin. Laughter bubbled in her chest as she asked incredulously, “You pulled me away from a perfectly wonderful conversation because you want to speak to me? Since when have you ever been desperate to have words with me?”

Anthony’s eyes gleamed as though he were recalling their younger days when she and Benedict trailed him like two lost puppies, endlessly talking until he had to bribe them to quiet.

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” he breathed out with disbelief, cheeks painted a rosy red. “I never thought I’d miss your chattering – the mindlessness of it that made my ears ring. I always thought it was horrid, that I couldn’t get away from you soon enough. And now… after watching you, seeing you smile at someone else’s words, dance in someone else’s arms… I realize that it was always delightful. That I was never bored, never felt dull.”

The black of Y/N’s eyes had blown wide as she felt the breath stall in her chest, her heart coming to an aching rest as her brain swam in muddied waters. “I don’t understand.”

Turning to face her, Anthony laid a hand over his chest. His brows had furrowed together, a sign of his sincerity – one of those small things that she swore she would admire until the end of time. “I didn’t realize how much I… enjoyed your company. Your words – the compliments, the arguments, all of it.”

Throat feeling dry, Y/N scrambled for the words to say that would match the tenderness she saw in Anthony’s eyes – the thing she had long dreamed of. “I’ve always wanted you to see me,” she whispered. “It will ruin me if your words are not true.”

“I see you,” he promised. “Not only just you, but myself.” One hand cupped her face, his thumb tracing over her cheekbone. “I’ve felt hollow not having you there to best me these past few weeks. To correct my grammar or debate my views. And I think I see that in you as well – the emptiness even with that man you’ve been sat beside night after night.”

A smile sprouted across her face, little laugh lines appearing. “He doesn’t even debate me!” she marveled. “They all compliment my dress and the hair, my education. How wonderfully articulate I am, how well read. But nothing of substance or challenge.” She paused for a moment, gazing into endless pools contained within his eyes. “Is that what Lady Whistledown saw?”

His eyebrows threaded together in confusion. “What?”

“The way we argue - how we can go on and on and on and yet… still get along. Not only tolerate, but silently enjoy each other’s company.”

Anthony shook his head in disbelief, little wrinkles appearing by his eyes as his cheeks bunched. “Or maybe it’s how I’ve always looked for you in a crowd.” He glanced down at her once more, pouring himself into her eyes as he whispered those words. “Even when I didn’t realize I did so.”

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton fanfic #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton imagine #colin bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton

@magpiencrow

Fri, 13 May 2022 21:29:11

with a little help

benedict/colin bridgerton x sister!reader

summary: nearly anything can be mastered with a little help from a duo of brothers

warnings: daphne’s twin sister!reader, stupid amounts of fluff

word count: nearly 1k

Benedict leaned dramatically back in his seat, eyes trained on his sister’s figure floating across the marble floor of their foyer. She should have been a vision, a feather waltzing through an easy breeze that he would have liked to capture in oils on canvas. Instead, he only found himself wincing and biting a knuckle anxiously as Y/N tripped over her own feet with every step.

“Dear god,” he muttered, “you are horrid.”

Coming to a stop, Y/N sighed deeply, her chest falling as she stepped away from the ever patient Colin. “You do not have to rub it in, brother.”

“I’m not,” Benedict said earnestly. “I’m simply observing and providing my input.”

“Which should be restrained,” Colin said with ease, laying a supportive hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re improving with every dance — I swear.”

Y/N pursed her lips with frustration and ran her hands over the front of her silky purple dress. It was infuriating — all of it. The way her mind and feet refused to communicate as one and how the rhythm of the music just wouldn’t flow through her naturally. Compared to her siblings who always carried themselves with such grace and poise, she felt like an utter embarrassment.

“Well I’m not Daphne,” she bitterly said.

“Which is a good thing,” Colin interrupted with a smile. “Just as it is good that I am not Benedict, who is not Anthony.”

She readjusted her feet in the tight little black shoes she wore as she replayed the speech in her mind that Colin always spouted. The one regarding how different they all were and how that was what made each of them so special.

“It’s a different feeling when it’s your twin outdoing you in everything: dancing, playing the piano, learning foreign languages, finding a suitor.”

Benedict sharply hushed her as he rose to his feet, cracking his knuckles dramatically. “Nearly all of which can be fixed with a little practice — no matter how horrible you may be.” He winked as he took up her hands gently. “So let us take things one step at a time and start again with dancing.”

Y/N’s lopsided smile matched his as she silently gave in, allowing Benedict to pull her into the exact middle of the foyer. With trained precision, he moved their hands into the correct position, silently explaining it all under his breath. He was instantly gentle in the ways her instructors had been so harsh. His hands did nothing more than gently guide her; the billowing masts to her sail boat.

“One, two,” he hummed a little tune, stepping in time with the rhythm of the dance she’d been trying to perfect for days. “And a one, two, three.”

Y/N clumsily followed along, desperately trying to keep time as Benedict’s humming and the tapping of Colin’s foot blended into a harmonious melody echoing in her ears. Despite being terrified of tripping, she silently willed her feet to move and follow along to his lead.

Never once did she think her brothers would fail her; that either would teach her wrong or intentionally make a fool out of her. There was an unfettered purity to their teaching. It was done simply from the kindness of their hearts, the tugging on their souls that made them want to look out for her.

Perhaps that is what big brothers were for, she thought, to be the steady light in the darkness.

She grinned from ear to ear as Benedict led her into a spin. In a moment’s time, he slowed both his humming and his movements to ensure each step of hers was made with strong purpose in place of hesitancy.

Leading her back out with a flourish, he sped up their steps once more, smiling with pride all the while. “Look at you!” he shamelessly praised. “Elegance fit for a princess.”

Y/N laughed before stepping on her brother’s toes. “Don’t you dare distract me,” she ordered through fits of giggles and a face burning with happiness. “I’ll trip and fall!”

“Then just keep dancing,” Benedict urged, leading her along into another set of steps she’d tried to memorize time and time again. He was effortless and in every way, that unignorable optimism set a fire beneath her feet.

Colin waltzed up beside them, arms held in the air as he spun with an invisible partner. “Head up, shoulders back,” he instructed sharply with a clever grin. “You’re leaning far too back on your feet. On your toes, Y/N.”

Smiling from ear to ear, she carefully adjusted her posture to fit her brother’s critique. As though something clicked into place, dancing became slightly easier as her feet found the floor confidently. “You could have told me earlier!”

“I thought you’d figure it out,” he teased. His eyes glinted with pride as Benedict spun her into Colin’s waiting arms. Extravagantly, they trotted around the perimeter of the room together. Despite being wildly off beat to Benedict’s humming, both laughed endlessly.

Round and round, the trio went, skipping between each other’s arms as their dance lesson morphed into an endless display of odd skills. Benedict tried his hand at a horrid tap dancing routine, something he’d seen once, as Colin and Y/N mocked a ballet routine, attempting balance dangerously on the tips of their toes.

None could guess at how long Anthony had stood in the doorway, leaning against the wall with a soft smile stretched across his face. He lingered silently, watching his three siblings make fools of themselves for his viewing pleasure.

“You’re going to break a leg,” he teased when Benedict attempted a hardly graceful leap.

Placing her hands on her hips, Y/N drew in a deep breath to satisfy her aching lungs, sore from both dancing and laughing. “How long have you been there?”

A corner of his lips quirked in that arrogantly smug way only Anthony could muster. “Long enough to realize our family lacks adequate rhythm.”

#bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton sister #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton fanfic #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton imagine #colin bridgerton

@magpiencrow

Sun, 05 Jun 2022 16:20:46

third time’s the charm

anthony bridgerton x sister!reader

summary: requested by @anthonysharmaa ; is it so unreasonable to want to know one’s own brothers?

warnings: slight angst to fluff, sister!reader (eloise’s age)

word count: 2k

A/N: apologies to lottie because she requested angst and i got a bit too touchy feely with this one

Staring up at a wall lined with silks in every color, Y/N wished she could go back to the morning hours when this idea of hers seemed so incredibly simple. She ran her finger across a bolt of rich red fabric. Didn’t Benedict like this color? Her eyebrows furrowed together as she thought, trying to remember the favorite colors of her brothers. Or was it Colin?

“You’d look lovely in a dress of that fabric,” Penelope commented politely, sidling up to Y/N’s side with a gracious smile stretched across her face.

A corner of Y/N’s lips lifted as she took a step back, gazing up at the selections that seemed to stretch towards the heavens. “I’m shopping for my brothers, if you’d believe it.”

“For…?”

“Cravats — gifts,” she said, taking a sample of blue fabric and running it between her fingers. “They’re all sitting on the cusp of something new; Colin about to embark on a second trip, Benedict’s venturing into art school, Anthony’s hopefully impending engagement.”

Penelope hummed in understanding as they both moved down the aisle.

“They’re always doing so much for the family. I thought it would be nice to give them something for a change.”

“That’s incredibly kind and thoughtful of you, Y/N. I’m positive they’ll be thrilled.”

Y/N’s throat tightened at Penelope’s words of encouragement. “It would be… but I…”

Her friend’s face changed to one of stark confusion. “But you what?”

Turning on her heel, Y/N whirled to face her. “I’m realizing that I hardly know them at all.” She waved the bit of fabric that she’d crumpled up into her palm. “I don’t even know which one likes the color blue!”

Penelope’s eyes grew comically wide at the outburst. “If it helps,” she said timidly, “Colin prefers green.”

“See!” Y/N exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at her friend. “Even you know him better than I. It’s humiliating.”

“But favorite colors are such a trivial thing,” she tried to reason. “I’m sure you know other things — like their favorite holidays or foods, what they prefer to do on their birthday.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to search through her memories with a fine–toothed comb. Sure, her family was close. But they didn’t necessarily talk about anything personal. Conversations always revolved around how the day went, the finances, the newest scandals whipping through the Ton like an angry storm.

“Colin likes fish, doesn’t he?”

Penelope could only wince, and that was enough of an answer.

Y/N lingered by the doorway, rapping her knuckles against the oak frame. She peeked inside the room carefully, silent so as to not disturb her brother working. Bleary sunlight filtered in through the thin white fabric of the drawn curtains

Benedict was sitting behind an easel, sitting awkwardly with a knee drawn up to his chin as he hunched forward. His tongue peeked out between his teeth as he focused intensely, paintbrush in hand as he worked away on his newest masterpiece. In her opinion, each one looked better and better and yet he was so critical of himself. It wasn’t unusual to find piles of crumpled papers around the home.

“May I come in?” she whispered.

He flinched in his chair, glancing up suddenly. “Is something wrong?” he asked with wide eyes.

She stepped quietly inside, wincing when the floorboards squeaked beneath her feet. “Not exactly,” she hummed. “I just thought it might be nice to chat.”

Benedict huffed softly, picking back up his brush and lathering more mahogany colored paint onto the canvas. “I’m in the middle of this piece,” he said with a tone of reluctance, “it isn’t exactly a good time to—”

“I understand,” she said quickly, forcing a smile onto her face. “I won’t— I won’t bother you again.”

“Help me take this upstairs, would you?”

Arms piled high with heavy leather books, Y/N trailed quietly behind Colin. Her older brother was practically bursting with energy. He was a force constantly in motion, anxiously fidgeting as he could hardly force himself to wait for his impending trip.

“Whatever do you need all of these for?” she huffed, stepping into Colin’s room and dumping the armful into a camel-back trunk.

“Studying.” He moved about his room almost in a blur, picking up quills and parchment to stuff away in a bag. “How am I meant to identify native flora and fauna if I have nothing to compare them to?”

Y/N nodded in understanding, tucking away another book he had handed to her. “So is this what you like — what you are passionate about?” She never exactly imagined Colin to be the type with his nose stuck in a book but suddenly his long interest in the trees on their country property seemed to make sense.

Turning on his heel, a wide smile spread across his face. “I don’t think now is exactly the right time to get philosophical about my passions,” he lightly laughed. “My pocket watch is ticking away and Greece is awaiting my return.”

Quietly, on the tips of her toes, she entered Anthony’s study with her breath held. It was rare for someone to enter the room while he was working steadily on his papers. Nothing was worse than her eldest brother in a testy mood.

The dark room’s curtains were drawn, hardly a crack of sunlight peeking through to illuminate the towering book shelves. Anthony was hunched over his desk, one hand pressing against the temple of his head. In recent days, his eyebrows seemed permanently threaded together in a mixture of worry and stress that did nothing but age him more. Y/N swore each time she saw him, a new wrinkle was painted across his features.

“Is now a good time?” she asked, whispering into the still air.

Without looking up from his papers, Anthony snappily responded. “What is it you need? Another bit of money for those books you like?”

“No, I—”

“Betting on horse races then?”

Y/N paused to hold her tongue as Anthony’s hands moved in a flurry, scratching his quill over parchment. “I haven’t even been down to the—.”

Running a heavy hand through his hair, Anthony leaned back in his chair as he brushed a stack of papers to the other end of his desk. “If you’ve made any purchases you need to tell me now. I’m tallying up our finances for the month.”

Her jaw clenched as she stepped forward, her fists balling at her sides. She was so tired of being brushed aside like a pest, nothing more than a nuisance to their day. Did none of them have time for her?

“Would you just listen to me?!” she exclaimed, voice rising higher than she’d intended it to. Her heart jumped into her throat, sitting like a heavy stone weighing her down.

With a start, Anthony glanced up, finally tearing his gaze away from the papers under his nose. His eyes were wide and an eyebrow raised questioningly. “What?”

Crossing her arms, Y/N felt a shameful heat rise in her face. What a silly thing to do — to have an outburst in that manner. And all at once, she didn’t feel guilty at all. Was there a sin in wanting to know more about one’s own family? Wanting to have conversations that weren’t tethered by formalities and restrictions?

“I came here to talk to you and you won’t even listen,” she said plainly, watching the confusion spread across her brother’s face.

“Iamlistening.”

Huffing, she clarified, “You kept cutting me off.”

Leaning further back in his chair, Anthony stared at her critically as the beginnings of a smile began to sprout across his face. “Fine,” he said with a hum, trying not to sound as impressed as his gaze roamed her face. “What do you need to talk about?”

Y/N shifted her weight from foot to foot uneasily. She twisted her hands endlessly, knuckles cracking as a flood of nervousness replaced the one surge of adrenaline that ran through and then quickly waned.

“I just…,” she mumbled, “I wanted to just talk.”

Again Anthony’s face crinkled with confusion as Y/N turned her gaze to the ceiling, watching how bits of sunlight played across the ceiling like light cracking over breaking waves.

“About…?”

“I feel like I hardly know you,” she admitted as her voice wavered, turning her gaze pitifully to him. “Or Benedict, or Colin. It’s like you three are so… so removed. And I know you’re always there but it’s… I feel as though there is an impassable wall standing between us.”

Anthony shifted uneasily in his seat, crossing one leg over the other as he looked at her with a new look — one of compassion. “Y/N, I—” For a moment he paused, carefully finding his words. “We haven’t been afforded the luxuries Gregory and Hyacinth have. We’ve had to—”

“Grow up too fast. I know, Anthony,” she whispered. Her voice cracked like a tree crashing to the forest floor, a haunting sound that filled every corner of the dark room. “Everything changed after father died but that doesn’t mean we can’t begin over now.”

Tilting his head to one side, Anthony’s chest rose and fell as he took in a deep, heavy breath. “Sit,” he urged. The tiniest smile spread across his face as Y/N sat across from him, settling a high backed chair identical to his. “Go on — ask me anything.”

Desperately, Y/N tried to contain the ridiculous levels of happiness and curiosity bubbling up within. “What’s your favorite season?”

“Autumn,” he answered quickly, a grin playing across his face. “The small sliver of time when the leaves are just beginning to turn their colors. Promenading through the park feels like walking through the brushstrokes of an oil painting.”

In some odd way, that sentiment made perfect sense to her ears. “Winter is mine,” she answered honestly. “I love when the snowflakes fall into my hand so I can see their tiny intricate designs.”

Anthony chuckled lightly, running a hand wearily through his hair. “I remember,” he replied. “When you were younger, I always held you up in the air when you begged to be closer to the clouds.”

Her heart stilled in her chest as she tried to remember those days, the happy times when the family felt whole. When father was alive, and Anthony was still a boy.

“And your favorite color?” she blurted.

“Easy — blue.”

“That’s mine as well.”

His smile only grew wider at her response, that boyish twinkle returning to his eyes that she last saw years ago. “Favorite dessert?”

“The Christmas cherry pie,” she eagerly replied, tilting forward in her seat as she found herself ensnared in the conversation as Anthony shook his head, happily agreeing with her.

Y/N had always thought that they were similar in mannerisms — how they both held a quill and signed their names, how they both disliked mother’s pestering. And this was simply the reassurance she needed to know that she was correct. The connection she’d been craving for so long was finally sparking and as a result of it, she found herself swimming in a million questions.

What was his favorite memory of father?

Did he remember the one birthday of hers when Daphne snuck a stray cat inside?

Anthony himself seemed to be lost in a world of thoughts, tenderly gazing at her with a loving smile only an older sibling could muster. “No one has ever taught you chess, have they?”

“Never. I don’t know anyone that plays.”

“I do — it was father and I’s favorite,” he enthused, as he stood from his chair and walked across the room. Opening drawers and moving books, he searched with intent for the old chess board he’d placed away so long ago. Surely, by now, it was covered in a thick layer of dust yet still well worn and loved. Glancing over his shoulder, Anthony asked, “Would you like that?”

An endless smile stretched across her face. “I’d love that.”

#bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton sister #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton fanfic #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton imagine #colin bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton

@magpiencrow

Wed, 25 May 2022 12:01:12

Colin Bridgerton falls in love during his travels around Europe

Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Requested by anon

Masterpost

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You’d begun your travels with your aunt and had been relieved to see someone that you knew.
While at a ball throw during your visit to a family friend you bumped into Colin.
You were relieved to find someone that you knew as many of the family friends, and their children eager for a match, had only written well wishes and never met you in person.
You and Colin visited several museums, restaurants and gardens.
While you took classes in the arts Colin had gathered a rowdy group of friends to spend his days with.
For a while your travels followed Colin’s plans but after a month you were scheduled to return home.
He promised to write to you as he saw you off.
He kept his word and several letters would arrive each week. According to Bendatic and Eloise they had received two in the time that you had received twenty letters.
While Colin wrote about his adventures you filled him in on what was happening while he travelled, you filled him in on all the drama at home, sending him a stack of Lady Whistledown’s, with each letter.
During a luncheon Eloise informed you that Colin would be returning home, he hadn’t, however filled you in on it and wondered why he hadn’t told you.
Penelope had informed you later on that same day that Eloise thought Colin had decided to come back home three weeks early because he realised that he was in love with someone back at home.
Assuming it was Penelope herself, you remind poliste but on the day of his arrival you found that he had arrived at your home to see you before he had even gone back to the Bridgerton house.

Colin tags:

@lisainhell
@spiderwebs-blog
@gryffindorqueensworld
@rockyrascal
@twerp8999
@lovesanimals0000
@theletterhart
@sarcasm-n-insomnia
@kaylantus
@ssa–holmes
@skinny-bitch-juice
@supernatural-wolfie
@yougottalovefandoms
@alwaysadreamingoptimist
@love1deandra
@archaeologydigit
@im-eating-rn
@bucketbunny
@littlefreakingfangirl
@jayyeahthatsme
@hardladyheart
@gillybear17
@bluejaysaysstuff
@lchufflepuffcorn

#colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton x reader #bonniebird #bridgerton

@bonniebird

Thu, 12 May 2022 08:01:08

it’s my life

requested by anon: Hey Lottie, congrats on your achievements!! Could I request number 23 with Colin and maybe something about arranged marriage? Thank you and all the best for you!!!!

a/n this ain’t a song for the broken hearted *bam bam*

summary: Colin Bridgerton has watched from afar at every ball and soiree as Y/N danced with many a suitor, never having the confidence to make a move himself. But when Y/N ends up in an arranged marriage at the hands of her father, Colin decides to finally make his feelings known. And whilst many marriages in London high society were business deals between husbands and fathers, Y/N is determined hers will not follow the same route. It’s her life, after all.

“Oh, look at you.”

Y/N tried not grimace as her mother cooed over her, fluffing the train of her wedding dress - not that it was finished - and admiring the detail.

“Madame Delacroix, you are a magician,” her mother exclaimed, turning to face the woman.

“It is nothing, Lady Y/L/N,” Madame Delacroix said, pinning the hem up. “It is an honour to make this for your daughter.”

“Now, I was wondering if we could talk about the veil,” Lady Y/L/N said, ushering Madame Delacroix over to a wall of fabrics.

Y/N sighed sadly, running a hand down the silk gown, staring at herself in the mirror. It wasn’t what she had dreamed of as a child - or in the last few weeks, to be honest. But she was making her mother happy and securing her future and thatwas the main thing.

The bell over the front door jingled and Y/N turned, wanting to see who had entered. She felt her heart almost drop at the sight of Colin Bridgerton, along with his two sisters and mother, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

It’d been three years since she’d first met the third eldest Bridgerton. Three years of longing gazes, stolen moments and nothing else. Colin had left for his tour not long after and Y/N had waited for him to return - to grow up and come back for her.

And, to his credit, he did. He did come back for her. He just came back a few weeks too late. So, Y/N was resigned to her fate - to marry a man she hardly knew - and to watch the man she loved walk away with someone else. Colin wanted her - she knew that. He had made it clear not long after he had returned. But there was nothing Y/N could do. She was a woman after all.

“Miss Y/L/N!” Lady Bridgerton exclaimed, her face lighting up at the sight of Y/N.

“Lady Briderton, your grace,” Y/N said, curtseying quickly as Daphne approached. “Miss Eloise.” Y/N stood up, meeting Colin’s eye. “Mr Bridgerton.”

“Forgive me, Miss Y/L/N,” Daphne said, looking at her gown inquistvely. “But is this a wedding dress?”

Y/N felt her face heat up and ducked her head, fiddling with the skirt. “Yes, yes it is, your grace. We have not announced it to the tonyet but I am to be married in a few weeks time. To Mr Barrow.”

“Mr Barrow?!” Eloise exclaimed, unable to hide her squawk of surprise. Daphne elbowed her in the side and Eloise grunted slightly. “Sorry.”

“No, it is fine - I was surprised myself, I shall admit,” Y/N said, smiling slightly. “The invites are being sent out today and I know for certain there is one with your family’s name on it, Lady Bridgerton.”

“Oh, thank you, Miss Y/L/N,” Lady Bridgerton replied. “Eloise, stop that, for heaven’s sake.”

As Lady Bridgerton darted off to stop her errant daughter from escaping the modiste, Y/N turned her head, finding Colin looking at her.

“Engaged?”

Y/N sighed softly. “Arranged,” she corrected.

She took a step forward, aiming to step of the podium she was standing on. Colin came forward and held out both his hands in assistance. Y/N placed hers in his - trying to ignore the warmth of his skin against hers.

“Arranged? Y/N, what -”

“Colin, I don’t have a choice,” Y/N said, cutting him off. “My parents arranged it and I cannot dishonour them and risk ruining our reputation by pulling out now. We met with the queen, yesterday, Colin. She is insisting on a big wedding at the cathedral - the entire ton is going to be there.”

“Surely, there is something,” Colin said, almost begging. “Y/N, you barely know this man.”

“It is a better offer than most of the weddings that happen, Colin,” Y/N told him. She squeezed his hands tightly. “Please, Colin. For my sake, do not interfere. Just let me go.”

Colin looked at her, his eyes begging her, his voice silent. Y/N ran her thumb along his knuckles, attempting to reassure him.

“Colin, dearest, come along,” Lady Bridgerton called.

Colin cleared his throat and let go of Y/N’s hands, walking away without a glance back. Y/N felt her eyes burning as she watched him leave. She turned back to look at herself in the mirror, sadness digging deep into her soul as she stared at the dress.

“Right, shall we try this veil on, ma cherie?” Madame Delacroix asked, appearing with a length of veil material draped over her arm.

Y/N sniffed, raising her head. She forced a smile onto her face. “Yes, let’s do it.”

Her house had never been so busy. The ballroom was full of the wealthiest members of the ton - all dressed in their finest outfits with their jewels sparkling. Y/N was wearing a brand new, all-white dress, with a set of jewels lent to her from the queen around her neck and in her pinned up hair.

Despite it being a ball to celebrate her engagement - an engagement that had taken the entire ton by storm due to its suddeness - Y/N had found herself feeling a bit of a wallflower. She’d been standing by the wall, next to Lady Danbury, for the better part of twenty minutes, her husband to be nowhere to be seen.

“Where is your fiancee, Miss Y/L/N?” Lady Danbury said, looking around the room.

“I do not know, Lady Danbury,” Y/N muttered quietly.

“You do not seem overly concerned.”

Y/N sighed, not irritatedly, just resigned at Lady Danbury and her observation.

“Could that be because it is arranged and not a love match?”

“Lady Danbury, please, never stop being so blunt.”

“Why would I stop? It is one of my charms.” Lady Danbury whacked Y/N in the leg with her cane. “You never answered my question.”

“I have spoken to the man approximately three times since we announced our engagement,” Y/N admitted softly. “I believe he is in the smoking room with his friends.”

“Ah. Mr Bridgerton! What brings you to our dark corner of the room?” Lady Danbury asked as Colin approached, hands behind his back.

“I was wondering if I could have a few moments alone with Miss Y/L/N, Lady Danbury?”

Lady Danbury gave Colin a side-eyed glare but walked away with a hmmph to stand near the drinks table - which was less than two metres away.

Colin stood next to her, facing the dancing mass. “Miss Y/L/N -”

“Mr Bridgerton, you cannot be here. People will talk,” Y/N said quietly, looking straight ahead.

Colin gently reached out and took her gloved hand in his. “Y/N, please.”

“There isn’t anything I can do about it, Colin.”

“You deserve more -”

“I am content, Mr Bridgerton. That is all that matters,” Y/N replied. “I do not have the privilege to back out now.”

Colin stared at her, his eyes betraying his hurt. “Y/N, I can help. We can think of something, anything -”

“There is nothing, Colin,” Y/N said sadly. She turned her head to look at him. “We can’t… we can’t be seen together.”

“Y/N -”

Colin trailed off as Y/N walked away from him, moving on to talk to her other guests. He watched her leave, staring at her back, wishing he could run after her.

“You took too long, I fear,” Lady Danbury said, appearing again.

Colin barely acknowledged her. “She doesn’t want this.”

“No, she does not. But there is nothing she, nor you, can do about it, Mr Bridgerton,” Lady Danbury replied quietly. She put a hand on his arm and Colin turned his head to look at her. “So, let her go. If not for your sake, for hers. Don’t make this any harder than it already is for her.”

She was beginning to panic. The tiara, the veil, the dress - the sheer weight of it all - was beginning to overwhelm her. Her hands were sweating inside her white satin gloves and her head was itchy where the pins scraped her scalp.

Her mother, however, was oblivious to it all. She was in her own world.

“Oh, look at you,” she cooed, wiping her eyes with a frilly handkerchief. “My girl, all grown up. Now, let me just sort this out.”

She began tugging on the veil, which sat behind the diamond and pearl tiara, and then fluffed it out, showing the full length and detail of the material. Roses and carnations decorated the edge of the veil - which were also what her bouquet was made out of.

“I still can’t believe the queen is hosting this wedding,” her mother said, sighing happily. “The cathedral looks beautiful, as do you, dearest. Now,” she turned to the door, “are we all set?”

The maid hovering by the door bopped a curtsey. “Yes ma'am. Whenever you are.”

“Right, shall we begin, then?” Y/N’s mother asked, ushering the maid over.

As the maid picked the train of her dress and veil up, Y/N turned around to face the door, holding the front of her dress up so she could walk.

Her mother led the way down the corridor, her heels clicking loudly on the tiled floor as they headed down the stairs and to the walkway from their rooms to the cathedral.

Her father was waiting in the door way and he extended his arm to Y/N, walking her out the door and down the stone walkway. Y/N was lost to her own thoughts as the walked, wondering how she had gotten here. Dressed in white for a wedding she didn’t even want.

In a daze, Y/N into the cathedral, her arm tucked into her father’s. Her mother arranged her train and her veil, untangling the material and smoothly lying it on the ground.

“I’m very glad you decided to go through with this, dearest,” Y/N’s father said, patting her gloved hand. “It is for the best.”

“I know,” Y/N whispered, swallowing her fear.

Music began and Y/N felt the knot in her stomach tighten until it was almost unbearable. It was just one foot in front of the other, now. One foot in front of the other to her inevitable doom.

The curtain swished back and she began walking through, keeping her eyes set on the man who was to be her husband. But on the left of the room, a few rows back, sat Colin Bridgerton. And he was watching her with eyes full of happiness, pain and sadness. Y/N couldn’t bear it. She tried not to look at him but it was like they were drawn to one another.

Y/N looked at Colin until she couldn’t be subtle about it anymore. Her eyes moved to her husband to be and suddenly, so suddenly, she realised that she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t marry him just because her parents told her to.

“Please be seated,” the Archbishop said, his voice gentle and calm. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this Congregation, to join together this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony…”

The Archbishop’s voice became a buzzing noise in Y/N’s ears as she stared at her husband to be. Her heart was pounding, the room was beginning to tilt and she just wanted to leave.

She didn’t want to get married. Not now. Not to this man. She clenched her hands around the stems of her bouquet, feeling the roses prick through her gloves slightly. As subtly as she could, Y/N glanced over at Colin. He was watching her intently - her, and no one else. It was if he could knew - as if he could read her mind.

“Miss Y/L/N.”

Y/N looked back at her future husband, startled. “Pardon?”

Mr Barrow frowned at her, his eyes narrowing. “The Archbishop… wants you to repeat after him.”

“Oh.”

“Miss Y/L/N, is everything alright?” He asked, watching her.

“I…”

Y/N trailed off, staring back at him. She was going to regret doing this later but, as of right now, short of sprinting out the room, she had no other option. And, if she was entirely honest, she did feel like it was going to happen anyway.

So, she swooned.

Colin felt as if his entire world was going to crumble as he watched Y/N stand there, dressed all in white. She looked stunning. But she didn’t look happy. If anything, she looked like she might pass out. Y/N turned slightly and Colin felt her eyes on him. He found her gaze and looked back at her, trying to appear happy (and failing).

Y/N turned back as her husband to be called her name, bringing her attention back to the wedding. But then she stuttered and hesitated.Colin was on the edge of his seat - literally, he was squeezed in between Benedict and Daphne on a pew smaller than his arse - as he watched Y/N. And it was only because he was watching Y/N so intently, that he caught the exact moment her intended fake swoon turned to a genuine faint.

A gasp went up around the room as she hit the floor with a thud - the bouquet falling from her hands. Her husband to be didn’t move, he just stared as Y/N lay there in a pool of white silk. Her parents stared too - no one seemed to be doing anything other than staring.

Colin did, though. He squeezed past Daphne and ran over to Y/N, his mother hot on his heels. The sudden movement of two Bridgertons seemed to shock the rest of the tonout of their stupor and suddenly there were people yelling and standing up, all trying to see what was happening. Y/N’s mother was… wailing for some reason and the Queen had stood up, mainly to move out the way, Colin suspected.

“Someone call for a doctor!” Colin yelled as he knelt at Y/N’s side, raising his voice above the clamour and chaos that had erupted in the cathedral.

“We should take her out of here,” Violet said, looking over her shoulder. “Why is her mother wailing? Dear lord, this poor girl. Take her back to her rooms, Colin. No one else is offering to help.”

Colin nodded. He lifted Y/N’s arm up and put it over his shoulder and then slid an arm under Y/N’s knees and under her shoulders and gently lifted her up into his arms. The fabric of her dress and veil hung down, trailing along the floor, picking up the flower petals scattered along the floor, as he carried her through the mass of people.

Colin just held Y/N against him as he carried her, willing her to be alright. This was the closest he’d gotten to her in weeks and his skin was tingling. A maid held open the door to Y/N’s rooms for the day and Colin walked in, reluctantly laying her down on the chaise lounge in the corner, untangling the fabric of her dress and veil and laying them out neatly, not wanting them to be ruined.

He stood up and looked down at her, suddenly aware of how… perfect she looked. Colin stepped back as a doctor and numerous maids bustled in, not wanting to intrude.

“Miss Y/L/N?” The doctor asked, shaking Y/N and tapping her cheeks. “Can you hear me?”

Colin jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned and looked at Anthony, a feeling of order settling inside him at the presence of his eldest brother.

“She’ll be fine, Col,” Anthony said softly, squeezing his shoulder. “I doubt the poor girl has eaten all day.”

“Where are her parents?” Colin asked, suddenly realising they weren’t in the room.

“Begging with the queen and the groom,” Anthony answered, his tone clearly showing how he wasn’t impressed. “The queen is more worried about her than her parents are.”

“You sound surprised,” Colin muttered. He looked back at Y/N, his eyes burning slightly as he watched the doctor fuss with her. “I can’t…”

“I know,” Anthony said quietly. “I know, brother.” He looked up as the doctor stepped back. “Well?”

“Exhaustion, dehydration, lack of food - typical wedding stress,” he answered, shrugging. “If she doesn’t wake up in half an hour call for me.”

“But she will be alright?” Colin asked, his tone a little harsher than intended.

“She will be fine, sir. It happens to almost every young woman on their wedding days - they don’t eat to fit into their dresses, the summer heat makes them dehydrate and the stress means their bodies decide to quit for a moment. Excuse me, please.”

Colin took a step back, relief crashing over him. He looked over at Y/N, his very own sleeping beauty.

“I’ll be outside,” Anthony said, patting Colin on the back.

As his brother left, Colin grabbed a chair nearby and brought it to Y/N’s side, sitting down in it. He looked down at her, reaching forward and brushing the veil from her face.

“I know you’re awake.”

“For a man who is so often oblivious, you are really observant at times,” Y/N muttered, opening her eyes and looking up at him.

“As someone who has passed out before, far too many times count, might I add, I knew you were awake the moment I carried you in here,” he replied, leaning back in his chair. He looked at her. “What happened?”

“I panicked,” Y/N replied, sitting up, pulling her veil up so she wasn’t sitting on it.

“So you decided to swoon?”

“Well, it started off as a swoon but then apparently turned into a genuine faint since I don’t remember how I got in here. Besides, it was either that or sprint out of the cathedral and leave him at the altar,” Y/N answered. “I thought this the lesser of two evils.”

“You scared the crap out of me.”

Y/N didn’t even blink at his coarse language. “I apologise, Mr Bridgerton. I just…”

“Couldn’t go through with it?” Colin finished.

Y/N nodded weakly. She slumped back against the chaise lounge, a cloud of silk, tulle and diamonds. “I cannot do this. I cannot marry him.” She frowned, looking around. “Where are my parents?”

“Anthony said they were begging the queen and your husband to be,” Colin replied. “They did not seem to really -”

“They don’t,” Y/N retorted. “This only happened because of money, Colin.” She sighed sadly, picking at her dress. “It is always money.”

Colin watched her pick at the silk material. He leant forward. “Why did you change your mind?”

“Pardon?”

“Before, at the engagement ball, you were adamant there was nothing to be done. That you had no say. What made you change your mind?”

“You, honestly. You and the fact I realised that, despite what society says, this is my life. I am not going to live forever, I know that. So, I just want to live, and I mean properly live, whilst I can. And I want to do it my way. On my terms.” She smiled at him. “It’s my life, Colin. I want to live it my way.”

Colin nodded, a smile pulling at his lips. “So, what do you want to do?”

“Leave. Run far away from here for a bit then face the chaos.”

“Then we’ll do that.”

Y/N’s head shot up. “Colin. We cannot.”

“Why? You have just given me a whole speech about how it’s your life -”

“I know but -”

“No regrets. No buts.” Colin stood up and held his hand out to Y/N. “It is now or never, Miss Y/L/N. We are not going to live forever.” He paused. “I know you don’t trust me, which is fine, I understand. But we can do this. I am not going to go anywhere, Y/N. I am a changed man.”

Y/N looked at Colin and then at his hand. She placed hers in his and he pulled her to her feet. “Alright. But.. we cannot steal a carriage.”

“Isn’t it a good job I rode here, then,” Colin replied, winking at her.

Hand in hand, the two of them snuck out of the room and out to the front of the building where the horses were waiting. Colin tossed some money at a footman, whispering instructions to him as he passed.

“We are going to cause a scandal by doing this, you do realise that,” Y/N said, looking at Colin as he sorted his saddle out.

“I know. I have had my fair share of scandal, though. I am almost used to it,” he quipped, smiling. He turned to her and tucked an invisible strand of hair behind her ear. “We can turn back. We can go back inside and resume this wedding. We can find your parents. Or, we can run away for a moment, organise our minds, and do it our way.”

“I do not want anyone forcing me to do anything anymore,” Y/N said firmly. “It’s my life.”

He smiled. “So you keep saying.” Colin put a foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself up onto the horse. He extended a hand down to Y/N and she took it, letting him pull her up onto his horse.

She didn’t care about her dress or her hair or how she was inevitably going to ruin it all. The mirage and game of pretend had to end.

“Take me away, Mr Bridgerton,” Y/N said quietly, wrapping her arms around Colin’s waist.

Colin smiled. “Of course, Miss Y/L/N.”

He urged his horse on and they rode away from the cathedral, Y/N’s veil flying in the wind behind them. There would be chaos when they returned, that was inevitable. But for now, in this single moment of time, it was just them - doing it their own way.

#bridgerton #colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x femreader

@anthonysharmaa

Sat, 16 Apr 2022 23:19:10