He Has My Heart

I let my pussy make my decisions, call that clitical thinking

Want this 😭

finding out making up whole detailed scenarios with fictional characters in your head is a “sign of mental illness”

Absolutely amazing piece of work 💅

She’s Gonna Save Me (Bridgerton: Benedict Bridgerton)

this is my first ever bridgerton fic! i’ve had such a writer’s block and post grad has been so difficult but listening to music and reading other writers’ works has me feeling inspired! so enjoy my first story in months and first of the new year :)

pairing: female reader (she/her) x Benedict Bridgerton reader x Colin Bridgerton (platonic!)

summary: Benedict contemplates a life pursuing art and living outside the expectations of his family and society. Does he find a wife and settle down or live freely? What happens when he meets someone who can offer him the best of both worlds?

notes/warnings: mention of nudity, alcohol consumption, activities that can be witnessed at Sir Granville’s scandalous studio saoirees…

word count: 2.4k

As the second eldest Bridgerton boy, Benedict never found himself extremely pressured by the standards and expectations of society. Those responsibilities were entrusted upon his brother, Anthony, the Viscount.

Benedict reserved himself to a more romantic life, preoccupied by his love and interest for art.

Attending every event of the season was merely a ploy to keep his mother happy and distracted from the fact that he had no true intention of courting any ladies.

He would drink, laugh, and dance the season away without ever calling on anyone.

Benedict believed that this season wouldn’t be any different.

******

When you first agreed to join your family friends across the Atlantic in London, you didn’t expect that you would be taking part in the ton’s social season.

As the youngest daughter, your brothers married with children and sisters off tending to their new husbands, your father didn’t feel the need to arrange a marriage for social or monetary gain.

Your family was well off in the states, your parents often described as ‘free spirits.’ They had always impressed upon you the importance of appreciating the beauty around you and romanticizing life.

With your mother’s passing, you decided to stay at home with your father, choosing to enjoy a quiet life in the country studying English literature.

Staying with Sir Henry Granville was beyond exciting and allowed you to interact and mingle with the more eclectic members of British society.

You had lasted all but a week before you were called upon by a Miss Lady Danbury.

She had stressed the importance of participating in the social season and the impending judgment of the ton and Queen if you did not participate.

While you never cared much for the opinion of others, you didn’t fancy the idea of being ogled every time you ventured into town.

******

“I heard she was rejected by every suitor.”

“She’s so ugly and unpleasant, a dowry wouldn’t even be worth it.”

“Apparently she’s slightly deformed.”

You couldn’t begin to believe the rumors circulating about you, the American.

You swore that the descriptions were ripped out of a storybook, describing some gremlin crawling from the depths of the earth.

Men and women alike had no problem spreading stories about the young lady joining them for the season.

Worst of all, none of them had even seen you yet. The modiste had made personal house calls, as requested by Lady Danbury.

Now you stood, in front of the carriage, at the first ball of the season, your debut.

You followed behind Sir Henry and Mary Granville, head held high and eyes straight forward as you waded through the ballroom towards Lady Danbury and the Queen.

You heard the whispers and felt the stares as you stood before the queen.

With one leg behind the other and your arms laid at your side, you gently bent your knee and curtsied before her.

She gave you a once over before bowing her head back, a silent approval.

Moving out of the way, you stood at the edge of the dance floor as Lady Danbury approached.

“Miss y/l/n, I do hope you don’t mind that I have taken the liberty of securing you a few gentlemen to fill out your dance card.”

“I expect nothing less from you, Lady Danbury” you smiled back, a teasing tone in your voice.

Your sarcasm and apprehension towards the season had not gone unnoticed by Lady Danbury.

She quite admired your wit and sharp mind, and more than anything, enjoyed the challenge.

******

You were now on your 4th dance of the night; your feet were hurting, and you wanted nothing more than to be curled up with a book.

Fortunately, your current dance partner was not completely awful and was actually quite charming.

Colin Bridgerton, you had met him in passing once before when Lady Danbury had brought you to his mother, Violet, and sister, Daphne.

 Apparently, Daphne had been named the Diamond of the season in her first season out on society and married a Duke. Her younger sister, Eloise, was preparing for her first season as well.

However, through your brief encounter with Eloise she did not seem as happy with the matter as her sister and mother were.

You had a feeling she would be a good person to befriend.

“Tell me about yourself Miss y/l/n” Colin inquired.

“Y/N,” you quickly corrected.

“Just Y/N is fine,” you smiled slightly.

“Well Y/N, how are you finding London and the beginning of the season?”

“London, well its quite beautiful. There is so much art, and history, and the architecture is amazing. Truly, I wouldn’t mind getting lost here. And well…this—” you paused, glancing around the ball at all the young women around you.

“May I be frank?” you asked, Colin’s eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Of course, Miss Y/N”

“I slightly detest all of this, my feet hurt, and I’ve been dancing for quite too long. Why would I want to marry someone I’ve met one time?”

Colin was slightly taken aback before grinning wildly.

“You remind me of my sister Eloise,” he stated.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I quite liked her,” you grinned back.

As the dance ended you curtsied before Colin as he bowed before you.

“I hope you find the person you’re looking for Y/N, but I have a feeling you don’t need all of this to do so.”

You smiled widely and slightly nodded before following him off the dance floor.

“I’ll grab us a drink,” he said before walking away. Your eyes followed his back for a few seconds before scanning the room.

They quickly landed on two men whispering in the corner.

The slightly shorter one had massive sideburns and a quizzical look that seemed as if it must be permanently etched onto his face. The other man had a certain air about him.

Even from across the room his light-colored eyes had a shine in them.

Colin returned; you thanked him before looking to the corner again. This time the slightly taller one had caught your gaze and lifted his eyes to meet yours. You felt your face flush and quickly turned your head.

“Colin?”

“Yes?”

“Who are those two men in the corner?”

Colin looked up to see his brothers in the corner looking at him inquisitively.

“Oh, those two? You don’t want to be near the likes of them. Poorly mannered and when they were younger, they would wet the bed for years well beyond what was normal.”

You were following along for a while until that last part.

You gave Colin a quick look to see if he was being serious.

His mouth remained flat and tight-lipped for a few mere seconds before letting through a boisterous laugh.

“My apologies Y/N, those are my brothers.”

Your eyes widened at the confession.

“Your brothers?”

“Yes, lets introduce you,” he stated, beginning to pull you across the ballroom.

“Colin, No I—"

“Brothers, this is Miss y/l/n, Anthony, Benedict,” he pointed out.

You curtsied before both of them before speaking up.

“I told you, just Y/N is fine Colin.”

You weren’t sure what his brothers would say about your slight improperness. It was clear that the Bridgerton’s were a well-respected family in the ton.

You glanced at the eldest brother who you learned was named Anthony who gave you a curt nod before excusing himself to sneak off from an inquiring Lady Danbury.

You smiled at him before turning your gaze to the second eldest Bridgerton.

“Y/N here was telling me about her studies in the states. She is well-read and well-traveled.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing Colin slightly.

“You flatter me, Colin. Unfortunately, I am not perfect. For example, I am about done with all of this and was just about to call a carriage.”

“Oh, but you must stay for one more dance Y/N. Poor Benedict here has not waltzed once.”

Benedict tried to sneakily hit his brother for his clear meddling.

“While that may be true, I do not need my younger brother imposing on such a lovely lady.” Benedict states.

“Nonsense, everyone must waltz at least once,” you laughed, pulling Benedict towards the center of the room.

His eyes widened at your forwardness as he shot Colin a disproving brotherly look, to which Colin gave him a grin and thumbs up.

As the music began you moved around the room with Benedict.

“So, Mr. Bridgerton, tell me what exactly it is you do.”

“Just Benedict is fine,” he stated, mirroring your words from earlier.

“Besides, aren’t I the one who should be questioning you about your skills?”

“That’s awfully backwards thinking, I hope you don’t get stuck that way” you replied sarcastically before being spun around.

When you returned facing Benedict, a knowing grin was stuck on his face. You were witty. He liked witty.

“I suppose that is fair. I’m an artist, well…I’m trying to be an artist. It’s a little complicated.”

You nodded understandingly, while the arts were enjoyed by many, it wasn’t exactly a noble pursuit, especially for you as a woman.

“You should come by Sir Granville’s studio, it’s quite…”

You couldn’t think of a proper word to describe the soirees Granville hosted. It was taboo and scandalous to most respectable members of society. However, if Benedict was an artist as he was claiming, he should fit right in.

“…inspiring,” you finished.

Benedict gave you an interesting look.

Little did you know, he had been to Granville’s studio, several times. He hadn’t been in a while since his family had just returned from Audrey Hall and the preparation for Eloise’s season had been quite hectic for his mother.

But you, picturing you at Granville’s studio was not something Benedict had imagined.

Women who were married or of low social standing was something else, but you, a young lady in her first official season stalking down the halls in such a disreputable manner. It didn’t fit the picture of the beautiful woman before him.

Benedict was quickly learning not to try and categorize you into one box.

“What do you know of Granville’s studio?” he asked seriously.

“Well, for one, I’m staying there. Two, I feel more comfortable among that community than here, if you understand what I mean…” you trail off.

Benedict gives you a small smile of understanding.

As the song ends Benedict lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently before sightly lowering it back down, fingers brushing softly as he pulls away.

“Until next time Y/N”

“I look forward to it Benedict.”

******

Two months had passed since Lady Danbury’s first ball of the season. In that time you had befriended Eloise and Colin Bridgerton, often sitting in the parlor room of their home during the daytime, chatting the day away.

As such, you had also grown closer to Penelope Featherington who also came over often. You always considered yourself to be quite perceptive, so it was evidently clear that Penelope was fond of Colin. You thought about mentioning something, but it didn’t seem like your place.

Throughout your time at the Bridgerton’s household you had seen Benedict a handful of times. Unfortunately, your encounters were reduced to small greetings, stolen glances and light brushes as you walked past each other.

Until today.

You were sitting in the empty parlor room as Eloise ran to her room to fetch some ‘evidence’ and ‘clues’ about Lady Whistledown.

“Good Afternoon Y/N” Benedict greeted as he walked in, taking a quick look around the room to find the two of you alone.

“Afternoon Mr. Bridgerton,” you greeted back, a slight teasing tone to contrast your seemingly formality.

He gave you a knowing look before continuing.

“I hope I’m not being too forward, but I plan on attending Sir Granville’s tonight, I was wondering if I would see you there?”

You gave him a teasing smile before your face fell into a serious and hurt look.

“Mr. Bridgerton, I’m appalled, would a respectable young woman such as myself be caught there? Imagine the horror if the rest of the ton were to find out.”

He let out a loud laugh at your remark, in the short time that he had known you, you never failed to make him laugh.

“Yes Benedict, I’ll see you there,” you smiled.

“Good,” he replied.

******

That night you had a few drinks to help you take the edge off before guests started coming over. There was something about interacting with Benedict that made you nervous.

 You were walking around the art studio observing the nude model and the artists renditions when you felt someone lay their hand on your shoulder.

“OH! Oh my, Benedict, you scared me.”

“Sorry, love, didn’t mean to startle you.”

You continued walking around the circle, admiring the art around you.

“She’s stunning, is she not?” you questioned.

“She is,” he answered quickly.

However, when you turned to look at him his eyes were already trained on yours.

You smiled widely, walking out of the studio as Benedict followed like a lost puppy.

“Will I ever get to see your art?” you asked him.

He smiled sheepishly as his arm reached back to scratch the back of his neck.

“I certainly would let you, if there was any.”

“Practicing here for a few months and you still have nothing to show?” you teased.

Benedict gave you a look.

“I may have asked around about you,” you confessed.

“And?” he asks.

From what you have heard, both from his siblings and other people around you. Benedict was a kind and creative soul, with a great appreciation for the beauty around him.

“Your family and friends speak highly of you, that’s important.”

“What about you? What do you speak of me?”

“Besides being a tortured artist? I think highly of you.”

He nodded his head again, before responding.

“I think highly of you as well,” he whispered quietly, leaning down slightly so he was more at eye level.

You blamed the alcohol in your system for what you did next.

Yanking him down by his collar, you pulled him close and reached up until your lips were flush against his, pushing with all your might as if you would never kiss him again.

“Y/N—” he pulled away, his senses flooding back.

“This is…no, I’ve dishonored you I—”

“Oh hush Benedict, I do not care about those rules. I want you.”

He looked down at you, holding your face in his hands as he searched your eyes for confirmation.

Biting your lip and grinning up at him, Benedict couldn’t help but pull you back in, one hand syncing to your waist to pull you closer as his other hand rested on your cheek.

“You know this means we have to get married now?” Benedict teases.

“That means you presume I would say yes,” you teased back.

His smile grew impossibly bigger as he pulled you back in for a tender kiss.

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Damn it’s 2 am on a Sunday…. I feel called out