not like this - second son au
benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
tw: angst!, fluff?, mama violet trying to help, footman john helping too!, arranged marriages, reader has period typical knowledge of sex
(images aren’t mine, credits to owners.)
bridgerton house was quiet.
everyone was either out, or had gone to their own homes. your father had a meeting out of the city and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow afternoon, which meant you were free to do as you please.
it was the first night in a long while that you didn’t have to dress up and spend your time at a society event.
you were in one of the many sitting rooms, gazing at the stars through the windows, turning when violet speaks from behind you.
“care for some company?” she asks, motioning to the sofa.
“sure.” you smile softly, getting up from your current spot to take a seat next to her.
it’s quiet for a moment, as she thinks about what to say — how to approach the overwhelming topic.
“i’m sorry.” she settles on, placing a hand on your knee.
“what do i do?” you ask, hoping she’d have some magical solution.
“have you talked to your father?” she suggests and it makes you scoff.
“he wouldn’t listen even if i tried.” you reply, and there’s another moment of silence.
“all i have ever wanted was for my children to marry for love. with benedict, i always knew it would be you. your mother knew it as well. ever since you were children, there was something special.” violet reaches out to cup your cheek, “talk to your father, tell him how you feel. he loved your mother very much, he knows what it is like.”
-
after violet had retired to her room for the evening, you searched the house for john, knowing he’d have the answer you seek.
you knew violet was right, that you could at least try and talk to your father.
but he wouldn’t be home until the next day, and right now it felt like you couldn’t breathe.
“where did benedict go tonight?” you ask as you pull on a coat, finding him in the foyer.
“miss y/n, i shouldn’t-” john tries to keep it from you, but he sees the desperation in your eyes.
he breaks down, giving you the address of benedict’s bachelor’s lodgings.
when he realized you were going to walk by yourself, he stops you, begrudgingly offering to ready a carriage to take you.
when you arrive at the apartment, benedict’s valet informs you that he was busy in his studio.
you follow him down the hall, waiting outside as he enters the room to inform benedict that you were here to see him.
when you step into the studio, you’re greeted by the sight of canvases covered in bright paints, and benedict standing before the easel, eyes looking past you as he nods for hatch to give you the room.
hatch leaves, but the door stays open. it was a fair compromise given the amount of trouble he’d be in if someone else were to show up.
“what are you doing here?” benedict asks, checking his hands for paint before approaching you.
“i needed to see you.” you murmur, shrugging off your coat and letting it fall to a sheet covered sofa in the corner of the room.
his eyes darken at that, at your unrestrained action.
“i was planning on stopping by in the morning to do some work, you could’ve seen me then.” his eyes follow your every move.
“needed to see you tonight.” you shrug, fingers brushing his wrist once you were close enough.
he says your name quietly, eyes meeting yours. it was a silent plea for you to not take things further, to not complicate things more.
your eyes glisten and he feels a part of his soul break, reaching up to brush some hair from your cheek.
“what is it you needed to see me for?” his thumb traces the line of your jaw, your hand moving from his wrist to his neck.
there was a barely-there smirk on his lips, making your heart flutter.
“i need something, i don’t care what…i just- i need you.” you lean up, and he follows your lead, lips meeting yours.
his hand glides along your waist, tugging you until your bodies were flush, making you sigh into the kiss.
he groans, lips moving to your cheek, your jaw, your throat.
when his lips find yours again, you can feel your brain turn off. every remaining thought about how bad this would end, seemed to float away.
the back of your dress was held together by laces that had taken forever to tie, but right now, you didn’t care if he ripped it apart at the seams.
the dress was too tight, your skin was too warm, burning, and the only balm was his touch.
his hand moves up your back, settling on the perfectly tied bow, and just when you thought he was going to undo the laces, he stops, pulling back.
the both of you are breathing heavy, eyes blown wide and lovedrunk smiles plastered to your faces.
he comes back to earth first.
“darling, we shouldn’t.” he was trying so hard to hold back.
“yes, we should.” you argue, though there was no real bite to it, “i have waited long enough.”
“i want to know what it’s like! i shouldn’t have to wait until i am married to some lord i have no feelings for, who has no concern for me and my needs!” you hiss, though the anger wasn’t truly towards benedict, “i might not know everything, i probably don’t know much. but i do know what i want, and i want you.”
you turn away from him, suddenly feeling embarrassed about your outburst.
you weren’t completely oblivious to the topic of sex, more knowledgeable than most unmarried women your age. but you were still yet to have actually experienced it, only hearing the horror stories of women in loveless marriages, and reading fantasies in novels of how good it can be.
benedict approaches you from behind, his touch light as to not startle you away.
his arm wraps around you, hand pressing to your stomach as his lips press a soft kiss to the back of your neck.
“not like this.” he whispers against your skin, lips pressing to your temple this time.
“why not?” you hated how small you sounded, fingers gently dragging over the backs of his hands.
“because it should be special, and not something we have to pretend never happened.” he murmurs and you can’t help but pout.
“so you’d rather my only experience be with the man i have to-” before you can say anything more, he cuts you off.
“you know that’s not what i am saying.” he walks around to stand in front of you now.
he brushes his knuckles against your cheek, feeling the warmth from the flush beneath your skin.
“i should head back.” your voice cracks and you step past him, towards the door.
his hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist.
“stay?”
-
