Forgive Me - Benedict Bridgerton X Reader

forgive me - benedict bridgerton x reader

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: friends to lovers, a lot of pining, some slight steaminess but it’s just built on intense longing and intense kissing

A/N: My first Bridgerton fic, which is slightly out of my comfort zone but has been a total joy to write! Feel free to send in any ideas you might want to see me write in the future. Hope you enjoy a good old friends to lovers confession with our boy Benedict <3

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“You cannot seriously be considering such a thing? I shan’t hear of it, brother!”

It could never be said that the Bridgerton household was a dull one, a fact that you had witnessed firsthand ever since you were a child. Each time your mother had been invited round for tea with Lady Bridgerton, which seemed to happen far more frequently than was truly proper, you would attend too, following quietly behind her skirt. You would always begin with a shy smile towards the Bridgerton matriarch but once you were encouraged to join the children in the gardens, your inhibitions soon deserted you.

When you were first invited, Daphne and Eloise were just slightly too young to play with you properly and so you were forced to form friendships with the three eldest brothers. Whilst Anthony had largely grown out of such youthful things as friendship and Colin had travelled so extensively that your exchange of letters had grown thin, there was one Bridgerton brother that had provided a constant ever since childhood.

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Cover Story (Part Three)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Masterlist

Summary: When a mission leads him to a secluded island, Azriel recruits a friend and colleague to pose as his mate. Their time spent working together reveals more than they anticipated.

Word Count: 3.1k

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: canon-typical graphic violence, torture

A/N: This is the final part. Thank you again to the anon who requested this and to everyone who has shown it love.

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Sharp steel met flesh, sliding through muscle and fascia with a loud, sickening squelch. Blood sprayed outward, painting the wall crimson and a brief, gurgling cry was muffled by a hand over a mouth. The blade slid forward and free, slicing cartilage and blood vessels in its wake.

There was the gentle thud of a body being eased to the floor, followed by the sounds of blood dripping on wood. After a few more rattled wheezes, the male went still and you stood. You didn’t revel in taking a life, and you swallowed down the horror of it as you wiped your bloodied hands clean. It wasn’t your first kill by any stretch, but it made your stomach roll nonetheless. There was something about killing on a battlefield that felt far more impersonal. When the roar of combat surrounds you and survival is your priority, it’s easier to put the brutality of it aside. Like this, though, up close and personal, calculated, it rattled you.

There wasn’t time to grieve the bloodshed however, not deep into enemy territory with Azriel still missing. You left the body where he lay, knowing there was no time to conceal the evidence and move the heavy male. Every moment you lingered heightened your risk of being cornered. So, you stepped over his body, crouching low to avoid the windows, and made your way to the stairs.

The lower levels turned out to be a cave system hidden beneath the Lord’s home. The passageway forked almost immediately, and its vastness would complicate both finding Azriel and the book. You puzzled over which direction to go, momentarily frozen in indecision before you noticed tracks in the sandy floor. Both passages were littered with bootprints, but to the left, a set of drag marks suggested someone or something had been hauled through the cave recently. You decided to follow it, sticking close to the cave wall as you crept. Soon, you could see the flicker of faelight up ahead, and when you drew a steadying breath, you were hit by a familiar scent. Azriel was there.

A few hundred meters into the passage was a heavy wooden door with a steel bar window. It’s hinges were reinforced, as was its frame; it was the type of door one might put on a prison cell. As you drew closer, you could smell blood in the air, though you couldn’t make out one single scent as the source. You kept low, pressing your ear to the door to listen for occupants. There were no voices, and only one, rapid heart rate could be heard, accompanied by ragged breathing. Slowly, you rose to peek through the bars, nearly staggering at what you found. In the center of a stone room was Azriel, on his knees with his hands chained in front of him. He was shirtless, and his torso was painted red with blood. You bit back a scream, fear jolting through you as you took stock of his injuries, only to realize that most of the blood was splattered on him, rather than seeping from his wounds.

You looked at the floor and found the source: three bodies lay strewn across the cell in varying states of wreckage. The male at the forefront lay face down, his golden hair a mess of blood, bone, and brain matter where his head had been slammed against a hard surface. Another was slumped against the wall, viscera spilling from his slit abdomen, his face pale as fresh winter snow. The final decedent lay to Azriel’s right, his neck twisted in an unnatural manner. In Azriel’s hands was Truth Teller, shining crimson with blood.

He didn’t look up as you entered, seemingly frozen where he knelt. You stood back, knowing better than to approach him without identifying yourself, and called out for him in a hushed tone, “Azriel?” His head shot up and he looked at you, wide eyed. His face was bruised at the temple, but what disturbed you most were the fresh tear tracks on his cheeks. You rushed forward, crouching to assess him, your own heart in your throat.

“You’re hurt,” he choked out, his voice strained. You looked up, bewildered, and followed his gaze to the blood staining your shirt.

“Not mine,” you assured him, examining the manacles on his wrist. They were welded to a length of chain that had once been attached to the ceiling. From what you could tell, Azriel had managed to yank the restraints free, snapping the thick chain above him. His ankles were bound as well, and remained firmly attached to the floor.

“They didn’t hurt you?” He seemed dazed and you began to worry about the wound on his head. Turning to the body on the ground, you rolled the male over and began checking his pockets, biting back revulsion as you realized the body was still warm.

“No, they didn’t get a chance too,” you replied breathlessly, locating the key in the third pocket you checked. You moved towards him, your hands shaking as you freed his wrists

“But the necklace…” he began, trailing off.

“What about it?” you asked. Once the restraints fell away, he opened the fist not clutching Truth Teller, revealing the sapphire necklace you had left behind in the hotel room, stained with blood. You swallowed, remembering how you had tossed it across the room after he left and realized they had cleverly used it against him.

“They stole it from the hotel room. I got away.” You didn’t elaborate, moving to free his ankles as well. When you circled behind him, you were horrified to find several long gashes carved into his back, still bleeding sluggishly. They were ghastly, but not fatal; wounds meant to torment rather than kill. The fact that they still bled was your greatest concern. “You’re not healing,” you said, matter of factly, surprised by the steadiness of your own voice.

“You’re okay?” he muttered, not seeming to register your question. He looked between you and the necklace a few more times before shaking his head, as if to clear it.

“Yes, I’m fine,” You said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Azriel, why aren’t you healing?”

“Faebane,” he replied, making you curse. Azriel couldn’t travel through shadows with it in his system, and you couldn’t winnow on the heavily warded island. You would have to leave on foot.

“What happened?” You asked, searching the room for something to drape over his shoulders. Dressing the wounds would have to wait, but you could at least cover them up for the time being. After finding his leathers shredded in the corner and returning his discarded Siphons, you moved on to the male with the broken neck. You avoided looking at his face as you unfastened his cloak, which was the only piece of clothing in the room not soaked through with blood that had any hope of fitting the Shadowsinger.

“There’s an entrance through the caves that they move patrols through. I didn’t anticipate the extra guards… or the Faebane.” He seemed almost apologetic about the lapse and you wondered what was going through his head. In the time you had known him, it became clear Azriel took his job very seriously and did not handle failure well. “The book is down here, in the vault. I almost got to it.”

You draped the cloak over his shoulders as gently as possible, already making plans to dress his back as soon as you were safe. It was too small, but it covered him enough to protect him from the cool night air. Azriel’s jaw was clenched, but you knew it wasn’t the physical pain that had him upset. “You think we can get it on our way out?”

He looked surprised at the suggestion and paused, contemplating for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, c’mon,” you said, bringing Azriel’s arm over your shoulder. “Up you go.” He leaned on you as he stood, swaying slightly before finding his balance again. When you were sure he could walk unassisted, you peaked into the hallway before motioning him to follow. You moved forward in silence, Azriel’s steps notably heavier than usual. When you passed the stairs, you were relieved to hear no activity from above.

The second passageway was longer, with far more twists and turns than the first. When you reached the third bend, Azriel’s hand suddenly shot out to close around your wrist, pulling you behind him. Silently, you peaked around the corner, where you could see the shadows of two guards silhouetted in faelight. Azriel drew close, his breath warm on your cheek as he whispered, “Stay here.”

It was your turn to stop him, and you reached out to snatch his wrist. You leaned in close, “You take the left, I’ll take the right. I’m not letting you do this alone again.” He glared, clearly unhappy with the plan, but relented. You would likely hear about your insubordination later, but right now, getting both of you out alive took priority.

You readied yourselves, and when Azriel gave the signal you both came barreling around the corner at full speed, blades in hand. Azriel had Truth Teller buried in his opponent’s neck before he even hit the ground, the guard no match for his sheer size and skill. The male you assaulted was surprised, but also a head taller than you. You wrestled when you hit the ground and he flipped you, pinning you beneath him, but not before you shoved your blade upward, piercing his heart. He was pulled off of you before he could draw his last breath, and tossed several feet. Azriel loomed above you, looking as deadly as you had ever seen him. He gripped your shoulders and hauled you to your feet, searching for injuries.

“Are you alright?” He whispered, his question little more than a growl. You nodded, looking him over as well, satisfied when you found no new marks. His hands lingered on your shoulders, a comforting weight grounding you as adrenalin still surged on your veins. When he was satisfied you were unharmed, he moved past you, fishing a key from his pocket to open the vault door.

The room was small and utilitarian, its walls lined with dust covered shelves hosting countless scrolls, books, and ornately carved chests. The book you were searching for was said to have a fairly unassuming cover, and you and Azriel split up, each taking one side of the room to begin your search. After several minutes of sorting through the shelves, you found a small book bound in worn, red leather, with an ornate dragon embossed on its cover. “I think this is it,” Azriel peered over your shoulder and nodded, something like relief flashing in his eyes.

“Let’s get out of here.”

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

You were able to make your escape through the tunnels, surfacing on the beach on the west side of the island. Once you were safe on the sand, you both let out an audible sigh, tension leaving you. The faintest glimmer of sunlight was beginning to light up the sky, turning the black to pale silver. You traveled down the beach at a swift pace, both of you eager to reach the harbor before dawn fully broke. You didn’t speak, content to listen to the cry of seabirds and gentle crashing of waves as you jogged along the shore. If it weren’t for your current circumstances, the journey might have been enjoyable.

The harbor was mostly quiet as you approached, populated largely with fishermen readying their vessels for the day. The male whose boat would carry you to the continent greeted you with a grumble, displeased about the delay in your arrival. As you boarded the small sloop, Azriel plopped a heavy bag of coins into the captain’s hand and took a seat next to you near the stern. Neither of you said anything for a while, catching your breath and watching in silence as the island became but a speck in the distance. When the sun fully crested the horizon and the tightness in your chest finally eased, you turned to Azriel, suddenly remembering his wounds. The words died in your throat, however, when you realized he was already staring at you.

In the warm light of dawn, before a backdrop of the deep turquoise ocean, Azriel was breathtaking. His eyes of blazing ochre and sage were perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever seen and you couldn’t contain your gasp as something shifted within you. Tingling warmth flooded you, both familiar and alien, like nostalgia brought on by a memory that was not your own. The connection between you and Azriel glowed with life and you marveled at the rightness of it, as though it had been there all along. The feeling was euphoric, and you giggled, overcome with shock and awe.

“You felt it?” Azriel asked, rare vulnerability coloring his tone.

“Did you know?” you asked. He nodded, looking behind you at the island disappearing behind the horizon.

“I knew there was something special about you. Always have. Then, last night when we were at dinner, it clicked,” he sighed. “That’s why I told you to stay behind even though it was a foolish decision. I couldn’t stomach putting you in danger and then…”, he huffed, “then I did anyway.” He was tense and distant as he recalled the events of the evening.

“It worked out, though. Didn’t it?” You tried to assure him, bumping your arm against his. He nodded stiffly and reached into his pocket, pulling out the broken necklace.

“The guards he sent after you… what happened?” He asked.

“I slipped out the window just as they arrived and then I came after you,” you told him. “They tried to tell me you had gotten away, that you got on the boat and left me behind.”

“I would never–,” Azriel began, fists clenching.

You interrupted him, “I had a hunch they were lying. That’s why I did what I did.”

“Then what happened with this?” he muttered, eyes on the necklace in his hand. “They showed it to me. Said they cut it from your neck. I was…,” he faltered, searching for an apt descriptor. “That’s when I broke free. And I killed them.”

“I’m sorry.” Guilt weighed heavy on you as you thought back on that moment of frustration, when you ripped the jewelry from your own neck. “After you left, I was… upset. I tore it off. They must have found it when they raided the room.”

“When we get home, I’ll get it fixed,” he said. “That is… if you still want it.” A stranger might not have noticed the way he tensed as he spoke, but you did.

“I do,” you replied. “I do still want it. If you want me to have it.” It was clear to you both that you were talking about more than the necklace. He finally looked in your eyes, the tension leaving him and leaned forward. His face inched towards yours and you inhaled, reveling in the scent of cedar and mist that intermingled with the salt air. Just before your lips could brush, however, you were interrupted by the captain.

“We make landfall within the hour, lovebirds,” he called out from the helm. “Be ready to disembark when we dock. I’ve got work to do an’ places to be.”

“We’ll be ready,” Azriel replied, pulling you into his side. “We have places to be as well.”

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Once you arrived on the mainland, you winnowed the two of you to a small village far from the city, where you could rest before journeying back to Prythian. The inn you found was far less stately than your accommodations on the island, little more than a series of rooms above a crowded pub. Even still, it was the most peace you had felt in days. You sent Azriel straight upstairs while you purchased food and supplies, lest his bloodied state alarm the townsfolk. He had argued at first, relenting only when you reminded him that you had saved him not twenty four hours before, proving your capability.

When you returned to the room, Azriel was freshly bathed and wrapped only in a towel, his trousers draped in front of the fireplace to dry. Your mouth went dry as he turned to you, his rippling muscles gleaming in the fire light. With the blood washed away, you could properly assess his wounds. “You’re healing again,” you observed, examining his chest. Unthinking, you touched his shoulders, turning him so you could see his back. His skin was surprisingly soft, like satin beneath your fingertips, and you struggled to focus on the task at hand. The wounds had all closed, with only the deepest slashes still an angry red. They wouldn’t scar. “Your wings are okay?” you asked, still thrown off by the sight of his bare back. His shadows, at least, had been let out of their confinement, and they pooled around him in a puddle of darkness.

“The glamour held,” he replied, taking a seat on the bed where you joined him. “I’m impatient to have them visible again, though.”

“Me too,” you said, without thinking. When he gave you a questioning look, you added, “I like them. I missed your shadows too.”

His mouth turned up at the corners and he cleared his throat. “You know, you can take time to think about this. About us,” he said.

“I don’t need time,” you answered quickly. “Not if you don’t.”

“I’ve wanted you for quite a while, Y/N,” he replied, “when they showed me that necklace and said they had hurt you… It was the most scared I’ve ever been.” He glanced down at his scarred hands and you caught his meaning. Azriel had faced more terror in his life than most, and his words bore heavy weight. Your eyes welled with tears.

“I was scared too,” you said, biting your lip. “I was afraid I wouldn’t make it in time.”

“Thank you. For coming back for me,” he whispered, taking one of your hands in his. “On the boat… you said you had a hunch that I wouldn’t leave you… I need you to understand one thing: I would never leave you behind. Bond or not, I wouldn’t. Couldn’t.”

“So you know why I didn’t listen when you told me to leave you behind if things went sideways?” You nudged him and he nodded, blowing out a long breath.

“I do,” he replied. “I don’t like it. The thought of you in danger because of me. But I do understand.”

“Good,” you hummed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “And just do you know, I fully intend to accept the bond.”

“You’re sure you want that?” He whispered, his cheek resting on the top of your head. You pulled away, cupping his face to bring it close to yours. “You want to… be with me?”

“More than anything,” you replied, leaning in until you were millimeters from his face. And, when your lips finally touched, it felt like home.

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

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bridgerton s1: yeah this is cool

bridgerton s2: Do you think there is a corner of this Earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment? I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence. You are the bane of my existence. And the object of all my desires. Night and day, I dream of you.

of all the people I had to get snowed in with, it had to be you?

pairing: seo changbin x reader 

genre & warnings: e2l, fluff, some swearing

wc: 5.2k 

notes: snowed-in trope paired with enemies to lovers, it doesn’t get any better. I had so much fun writing this at ungodly hours of the morning. lmk if you want to be in the taglist for the other works in this festive series!

festive series masterlist here 

♢

Snow is already starting to fall thick and fast by the time you get off the train, and you cast a worried look skywards before tugging your hood up over your head as you walk out the station. Luckily, Hyunjin and Jisung’s apartment is only two blocks away, but even that short journey is enough to soak your shoes—which, in hindsight, you realise were a poor choice of footwear for the snowy forecast. 

You hurry up the steps and press the doorbell for the right apartment, waiting for the telltale buzz of the door unlocking to let yourself into the building. A rush of warmth greets you as you step inside. With a sigh of relief, you pull down your hood and begin unbuttoning your jacket as you hike up to the third floor. Your friends had managed to bag themselves a nice apartment in the city; it’s an up-and-coming neighbourhood with great bars, good transport connections into the city centre and it’s shockingly affordable. 

The only thing you can fault them with is their choice of roommate. And clearly, karma must be out for you, because he’s the one who opens the door. 

“Oh,” he says, deadpan. “It’s you.” 

“Changbin,” you greet curtly, edging past him into the apartment when he makes no move to let you through. 

You couldn’t exactly say when it had even started—all you knew was that you two had never managed to get along, despite the best efforts of your mutual friends. Everything you did seemed to bother him, and consequently, everything he did back would annoy the hell out of you. 

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Blank Keys

A/N: I started this one right after I finished the last one and worked on it in a couple of large chunks and a few small ones… and it still took forever. This really did not go where I initially expected it to, but I guess these tropes never do ^^

21 Tropes: 6. Bad Boy AU + ivory w/Hendery

Description: A chance encounter with the school “bad boy” sends your life spiraling in a new direction.

Word Count: 7.9k

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: swearing

School sucks. Life sucks. Music sucks. But, here you are, walking to the music rooms once again so you can practice and hate it for the ninth time this month. It’s not that you hate music itself - you love music. You’ve loved music for as long as you can remember, it’s your minor for God’s sake, but, right now, you can’t stand to write a single note.

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anthony bridgerton is my favorite brand of male character. he’s a whore with a tragic past and a fear of love. his crimes? being sexy and making terrible choices. and to top it off he’s got eldest sibling disorder. he’s literally perfect.