Benedict Bridgerton Regency Imagines || Benedict Bridgerton

Ladies Night (Oh What A Night)

"Sssnot funny Bendickkkkt!"

Your indignance is only slightly undermined by your slurred words as you fight off your gloves and hand your cape to Mr Smith, trusted valet, standing dutifully by the front door.

You are returning from a ladies' night at Mrs Danbury's—an eye-opening experience to be sure.

Benedict bows his head, swallowing his grin, but even with his face downcast, his shaking shoulders give him away.

"Stoppp," you whine, pouting.

"Darling, you have to know, you cannot keep up with the women in my family; they are seasoned professionals..." he offers gently, moving towards you.

"At drinking?!?" You scoff, gesturing a little wildly.

"Yes, darling," he smiles, tenderly lowering your waving arms and wrapping you instead into his embrace.

"I merely need more practissssh!" You dispute, after a brief pause to enjoy his warmth and solidness, your words muffled into his velvet lapel.

"I would not recommend attempting to outdrink any Bridgerton," he counsels blithely, stroking your hair. "But I am glad it appears you had a thoroughly pleasant evening with the ladies."

"I did!" You grin, tilting to look at him. His mother and sister-in-law Kate were most excellent company indeed.

He looks down upon with benevolence, his hazy eyes sparkling in the candlelight from a nearby sconce. It makes you reach up and pat his cheek, perhaps a touch clumsily.

"So handsome." You sigh, no filter to your thoughts, the pleasant buzz of alcohol coursing through your veins.

He laughs demurely. "Thank you, my love."

Then he is momentarily confused when, suddenly, you step out of his arms and start to thrash inelegantly, pulling up your hem, hands scrambling under your chemise.

"What on earth are you doing??" He chuckles.

"Taking off undergarmentssss," you frown as you respond, as if the answer were obvious.

"Why?!" He queries, looking thoroughly entertained as you continue wiggling around, needing to use the nearby hallway table as a brace to achieve your objective.

"WE ARE GOING TO HAVE SEXSSS!"

Mr Smith beats a rapid retreat.

Not that you notice, too distracted by your task, emitting a triumphant noise as you finally throw the offending garment aside.

"Perhaps not tonight," Benedict counters delicately, still trying to tamp down his urge to giggle. "I do not think you in a fit state. It may be best for you to rest tonight."

You look at him petulantly, as he crowds into you again, that crooked grin always making your heart skip. This time, he picks you up effortlessly, sweeping you up the staircase bridal style as you grin at him somewhat loopily.

"Ifff not tonight, promise to satis... satis... fffffy me in the morning?!"

"How could I not?" He promises silkily, finding your stumbling, tipsy cadence adorable, bussing a kiss to your temple, as he carries you into your bedroom.

"Deeeeeal, Mr Bridgerrrrton," you hum as he carefully places you upon your feet.

He helps you out of your dress, then guides you to the large bed in just your simple white chemise.

Your eyes close as soon as your head hits the plush, soft pillow. But just as sleep is about to claim you, an urge compels your eyes to fly open.

"TWICE! You will satisfy me TWIIICE in the morning!" You proclaim loudly, twisting your head to look at him as he slips out of his shirt and into the other side of the bed.

"You have my word," he smiles, leaning over to kiss your forehead briefly before blowing out the bedside candle.

"I ammm a lucky laddyyyy..." You sing-song tipsily, your eyes fluttering closed again, a goofy grin engulfing your entire face.

"And I am a lucky man, Mrs Bridgerton," he answers sweetly, as you pass out, still beaming.

And, fortunate for you, he more than keeps his promise in the morning.