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pairing: francesca bridgerton x lady's maid!reader
after visiting her mother and not getting straightforward answers about pinnacles, she turns to you, her lady's maid, for the information she needed.
ⓘ desperate times call for desperate measures, self discovery, class differences, reader has a crush on her boss but who wouldn't?, kinda pervy?, smut (guided masturbation, exhibitionism/vouyerism, pillow princess!francesca, oral sex, fingering, multiple pinnacles ♡), minors dni, francesca learns about pinnacles, also this is pretty much cheating (sorry john), take me to church by hozier
2.8K words
𖤘 @i-do-not-care-bear @dollh2nni @iriassss @supernova-mk @ryuxjiiii @lustdripped @tpwkstiles @classywolfhunter @jasvidal @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh @gigglesngeek @ghizlana @yuinno @averyjadedemerald @ghostlyreeder @strwwbbrri @stxrswrld @vintage-karma @jumblybee @solinadarvenel @t0rit0ri @moonlightwonderlan @manixx9 @monk28-67 @mirrorr @lm-sc-af-lw @ladybirdsunset @sevslover @lostamoeba @theunstablenarrator @thescriptofsharkboyandlavagirl3d @black-catt @heavenlyshauna @plantnoteater @reidsrae @yourvenusyour-love @lupeisalesbian @fl0werrlv3r @ohno-people @hedidnotpleaseme @ghtoic @beaucate @hitwn @femlover12 @snixxxxxx @strl0rd @nmbubbles @dormantdoormat @dannyjimen @doubleoree (other tags in the comments) (sorry i panicked i didn't want to not tag you guys😭)
❁ night and day i dream of you (bridgerton masterlist)
❁ mila's anthology (main masterlist)
You believe you have never seen Lady Kilmartin this uneasy; and she is often uneasy, as even in silence, her anxiety tends to be loud—at least in front of you she is.
Not like you deem it a problem.
If you were to be honest, you would confess you find her adorable.
Cute.
Beautiful.
Breathtaking.
And it's not that you fancy her—of course you don't, she is your employer. The lady of the house. Dozens of ranks above you. Married to John Stirling, who you have known your whole life since your parents have worked for the family for around forty years and you have lived there as well. And also, she is a woman.
So, yes, it's not that you fancy her.
Except that you do.
“I should like to ask you something.”
You tilted your head to meet her eyes in the mirror, undoing her corset unhurriedly. “Of course, my Lady.”
She cleared her throat and looked at you, hesitant and anxious, and shook her head. “No, forget it. Thank you.”
“Are you certain?” You frowned. “Because you can ask me anything you please.”
“Yes, I am certain,” she replied and curved her lips softly. “You can continue.”
You nodded.
But her curious despair was bigger than her shy nerves.
“What is a pinnacle?” She asked suddenly, the question making you drop her corset to the floor and leave her bare in front of the mirror. “In the bedroom. Do you know?”
“Oh—”
Francesca blushed and picked the nightgown to cover herself. “I apologize, this was inappropriate, was it not? I just— John asked. He asked whether I had reached it or not and I said I had but I have no clue what it is that I was supposed to reach and Penelope mentioned something and I asked my mother but she would not tell me! I— sorry. Sorry. This does not concern you, I apologize.”
“You wish to know what a pinnacle is?”
“Yes,” she confirmed after sighing heavily. “I merely want information, but I understand if you do not wish to speak of the matter with me.”
You hummed. “Lord Kilmartin does not satisfy you?”
“No, he does! I just… No, he doesn't.” She pressed her lips together. “And I do not understand. I love him! I love my husband, I truly do, I do not know what is wrong with me!”
“No, no! Do not say that, my Lady, you are not the problem.” You shook your head. “May I ask what you and Lord Kilmartin do?”
“Uhm…” She blushed and looked up, too embarrassed to meet your eye. “We kiss…, he takes off his clothes, he… touches me there and, you know, he…”
“I understand.” You smirked lightly. “Do you take off your clothes? Or just your undergarments?”
“Just my undergarments.”
You nodded. “Sometimes, a woman needs more than that to reach her pinnacle, my Lady. That does not signify that there is anything wrong with you, it just means your partner will have to do additional things so it is enjoyable for you as well, but that is not to be any sort of imposition. You deserve to enjoy it like your husband does.”
“What kind of additional things?”
“Like getting you naked and touching more of your body, kissing you in places that aren't only your mouth, uh… You could mention it to your husband, my Lady, I am certain he would be willing to help.”
“Have you reached it before? The pinnacle?”
“Yes,” you said. “It is most… delightful, I must say.”
“Is it?”
You chuckled softly. “It most certainly is.”
“How does it feel?” She raised an eyebrow and turned to face you.
“It… starts slowly. Your body starts getting warmer, your heart beats faster, and it is like everything around you is too much and not enough at the same time. It comes from between your legs and expands to your whole body, it feels like you will explode from within with how good it is sometimes.”
“Thank you for the information,” she muttered. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Of course,” you agreed and turned around to help her in her nightgown.
“Can you teach me how?”
Well.
What a question to ask someone who is on her knees in front of you.
“So I know what to tell my husband. You don't have to do it! You don't have to. Only if you… want to. Please.”
“Alright, I will help you.” You nodded and stood up, leaving her gown on the floor. “I can guide you.”
“Thank you.”
Francesca stood awkwardly in front of you, almost making you laugh at how incredibly sweet she was.
“Lay on the bed.”
She nodded quickly and rushed to the bed as if you would regret it if she took a false step.
You took a seat on the edge of the bed and gulped at the sight of her. “Close your eyes… and… touch your body. Slowly. Try to focus on the feeling.”
Francesca inhaled and exhaled calmly as she complied, brows furrowing a little in concentration.
“You could stick to your breasts for a moment,” you proposed. “You can—yes, just like that.”
Her breath caught ever so slightly as she played with her nipples, eyes darting at you as if asking for approval.
“Does that feel good?”
She nodded, looking at you as she touched herself.
She stared at you as her hands explored elsewhere, as you asked her how it felt when she reached certain places, and as she nodded in affirmation.
It physically hurt that you couldn't be the one to touch her… you know that if she was yours, you wouldn't let her go to sleep not knowing what an orgasm is.
What hurt the most, though, was that she looked at you every step of the way.
“Wait,” you stopped her when she was almost reaching her cunt. “Open your legs wider.”
She swallowed hard, watching your reaction more than anything. “Like this?”
“Yes, just like that... You are ravishing.”
A soft moan left her lips and she felt herself clench around nothing at the praise.
So this is really it? Is she about to achieve her first pinnacle?
“Am I?”
“Yes,” you confirmed, seeing how incredibly soaked she was. “You can continue.”
She nodded and continued her path.
Her body jerked when she made contact with her clit and a loud whimper left her lips.
“Don't stop,” you whispered. “Rub yourself in circles. Be careful, for you are sensitive, but when your body asks for more, you could put a finger inside yourself.”
She nodded. “How do I know when my body asks for more?”
“You will know it,” you replied, suppressing the urge to join. Touch. Help. You gripped the fabric of your skirt until your knuckles hurt. “How are you feeling?”
Francesca bit her lip slightly. “I am feeling great.”
“Are you sure?” you asked, gently putting some strands of her hair behind her ears and ignoring how your touch only gave her goosebumps.
“Yes.”
“Then perhaps I should leave you to it,” you mentioned and attempted to stand up, but she gripped your forearm with her free hand.
“Stay,” she ordered, and you have never seen her this desperate. “Please.”
“Okay,” you agreed and took a more comfortable position on the bed. “I will stay.”
“Thank you,” Francesca moaned and closed her eyes, though her face was still turned to you, the filthy sounds of her making you press your thighs together. You noticed she had not let go of your arm, instead gripping it harder.
“Does it help… that I am watching?”
She opened her eyes. “Yes.”
“Is it exciting to be watched?”
“Yes.” She widened her legs more and inserted her index finger inside herself, letting out a quiet hiss. “Do you find it exciting to watch me?”
You certainly weren't expecting that question.
“I do,” but you answered honestly. “You are incredibly beautiful, my Lady. Anyone would be excited to watch someone like you.”
“I think I am close!” she cried out, breath labored. “Goodness, I— It's not enough, God, I'm—”
“Allow me,” you interrupted her and, in a matter of seconds, your hand replaced hers. “How does this feel? Is this okay?”
Francesca was dripping in pleasure, eyes closed shut and your name leaving her lips in feral whispers. “Yes, yes, please, oh, God. Please, do not stop, please.”
“You must be quiet, or someone might hear.”
“I cannot… I— I cannot be quiet, this feels so— Oh, God.”
You looked around, too worried for your own good, and there was only one way you knew to shut her up.
You kissed her.
And she returned the kiss like her life depended on it.
You felt her walls tightening impossibly hard, making it difficult for you to continue, but you would not dare stop.
She needed this. You needed this.
The way she tried to bring you closer by your neck and shoulders, how her hips thrusted forward so you could go deeper, how you could swallow her whines to silence, all until she finally reached her pinnacle, it all drove you insane.
Finally.
She writhed underneath you, thighs trapping your hand firmly, all the tension dissolving into waves that washed away her almost everlasting frustration, the residues of her pleasure being enough for her to want more.
You broke the kiss. “Was that okay?”
“That was amazing,” Francesca confessed in a sigh of bliss, still dangerously close to your lips. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome, my—” You were interrupted by a kiss on your lips that caught you off guard but was not unwelcomed one bit.
You moaned into the kiss, diving deeper into her and letting her take you in entirely, and there she laid on her bed, her legs still shaking every few seconds but keeping your hands in place, your fingers still in and out of her softly as her pinnacle subsided.
Francesca broke the kiss barely to say “Don't leave.” and immediately kissed you again.
“As you wish.” you muttered against her lips, yours making their way to her neck to kiss her there while your other hand toyed with her nipples.
“Can I touch you?” she inquired, fingers hesitantly touching your bare cleavage with her fingertips.
You continued fingering her, gaining speed soon enough. “You would like to touch me?”
“Yes,” Francesca stated plainly, moaning as you pulled out your hand and turned to rub her clit rapidly. Her hips imitated the rhythm of your fingers and her lips let escape her cries of pleasure. “Yes, yes, yes, oh, God, yes, yes!”
“Yes, Francesca?” You, once again, shut her up with a kiss. “You would like to touch me?”
“Yes, yes!”
“Right after you give me another pinnacle?”
“Am I— Am I about to… Oh, my God, get another pinnacle?”
“I am fairly certain you…” Before you could finish that sentence, she screamed your name to announce her second pinnacle, though you interrupted her with a kiss before she could get too loud. “Shh… Be quiet, be quiet,” you cooed, pecking her lips before speaking again. “While I would love to have you all for myself and hear you scream my name as loud as you need to, you must be silent or else someone will hear and come to check if you are well.”
Francesca nodded. “Okay.”
“Now,” you purred in her ear. “I remember you mentioned you would like to touch me?”
“I would very much like that.”
“Alright,” you accepted but, before taking off your dress, you surprised her with your actions: you sucked your fingers clean.
Tentative, with intention.
Francesca's eyes flickered with something darker, sweeter, and she watched you with hunger.
When was the last time she needed something as much?
Was it two hours or two centuries ago?
She debated, she yearned, all while you undressed yourself under her curious, heavy, starved gaze.
She ached, she fantasized, all while you positioned yourself atop her and held her hand to drive it to your glistening cunt.
Francesca allowed you, touring your slit carefully—she felt her body beg for more touch, for you.
You grunted. “Francesca—”
“I like it when you say my name,” she muttered against your lips, her eyes fixed on yours like you are the last thing left on Earth. “You are really pretty.”
You bit the inside of your lower lip and kissed her again, feeling how her surprisingly skilled hands got to know the most intimate part of your body. “You as well. Oh…”
If you were to be honest, you would say you had never come as quickly as this one time—a time so different than those you have shared secretly with one of your fellow maids, mainly because this is the woman you were born to serve.
Does this count as serving her? Would this, somehow, be considered as part of your duties? If so, you have never been more glad to have this job.
Also because she is the most beautiful woman your eyes have ever laid upon. She is perfect with her long brown chestnut curls, her soft skin, and such wonderfully talented fingers that had your walls clenching in ecstasy like never before.
Francesca left you empty to then imitate your actions and suck her fingers, and then she frowned softly, the salty and unfamiliar taste of your arousal peeking her curiosity. “Do I taste similarly?”
You crawled backwards, not without kissing your way south, and definitely not without taking a little of your time to suck her nipples, latching onto them with some delicious sort of despair. Francesca whined with no stop, hands gripping the bedsheets as she felt her heartbeat reach places she never believed possible for it to. “I know of one way to find out.”
Francesca squirmed and watched you intensely, a soft gasp of complaint when your mouth let out her tits, taking back all the attention, left her flushed lips. “How?”
“Open up,” you instructed, hands separating her knees delicately. She covered herself, embarrassed. “Do not shy away, Francesca. Nothing here I am yet to see.”
“I just—” She blushed, the red sprawling from her ears to her chest. “I am slightly embarrassed, that is all.”
You hummed, encouraging her to open her legs. “How could you be embarrassed? Do you not know how incredibly beautiful you are?”
“Sorry,” She huffed out a shy chuckle. “I apologize.”
“Do not ever apologize,” you told her, feeling her open her legs with hesitation. “We could stop if you so wish.”
Francesca widened her eyes and shook her head. “No! No, no, let's… continue.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded eagerly. “Yes.”
You curved your lips, comforting, as she gave you the much needed space.
“You are perfect,” you told her and kissed the inside of her thigh. “You are so wet. That means you are enjoying this. You are?”
“I am,” She breathed out heavily. “And you?”
You drove her legs to your shoulders and dove in, leaving a slow kiss on her clit. You licked your lips, eyes fixed on her. “Sure I am. She is so pretty, is she not?”
“Who is?”
“She is.” You smirked and started kissing her, enjoying her taste as if you hadn't drunk anything for months. “And she tastes so good, too.”
Her eyes rolled back and her thighs trapped your head in place. “This feels so good…” Francesca whimpered. “Goodness…”
You pinned her hips to the bed as you continued eating her out, soft and sweet, like she is a dessert you don't want to finish. She urged you to go faster, the pleas in her moans and the placement of her hands in your hair were enough of an indication that she needed it.
“It is coming again,” Francesca shrieked. “The pinnacle. Please, please.”
Instead of words, you allowed your actions to speak for themselves, quickening your pace as a result.
Honestly, you were growing slightly tired, but you wouldn't dream of leaving her on the edge, so close that she…
“Oh, my God!”
Francesca came once again, feeling as if her soul had left her body and she was watching herself react to her most recent pinnacle from far above.
She almost hates herself for never experiencing this with her husband, but if there is something for which she can actually hate herself, it is that every time she tried to picture her husband touching her instead of you, the filthy and demanding thrill would expire and only calling your name could ground her back to this moment.
It was you.
The sight of a body like hers, that reacted like hers, and felt like hers brought her a thrilling challenge that her husband couldn't. The feeling of nimbler hands on her body and your soft, dedicated mouth on her lips was a sweeter thought.
You are a sweeter thought.
Your lips on hers that tasted like her own arousal were salty, but sweeter than all the biscuits from teatime.
And she pondered about it all until she fell asleep.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
you were strolling around the place, clipboard in hand. everything was going smooth and fine, but it was too fine.
you pass by a familiar room, curtains closed, door closed, you felt like your gut just told you to check on it.
once you opened the door and pushed the curtains away, everything changed.
you were met with your patient, the vitals monitor closed — not connected. eyes closed, they were peaceful.. too peaceful.
you dropped your clipboard on the nearest table quick, “hey, uhm.. ms smith?” you said, slight disbelief in your tone.
you never got a response, just to be more safe — you even checked if the patient was reactive to pain. no. they were not.
“holy shi-“
“hey! i need help in here!” you immediately shouted out the door, and suddenly staff rushed in.
“what happened?” you heard santos’ voice ask. laced with seriousness and disbelief. “uh- i- i don’t know, i just came in here.” you didn’t know what to say, but you knew it was your fault.
“shit.” one of them says, as you tried to help as well but you were just useless.
princess quickly moved as the monitor flickered to life as the leads were secured.
and it was very, severely bad.
“heart rate is 40.” she said, as you mentally cursed yourself. you already felt your chest tighten but you fought through it.
“start compressions.” you heard dr robby’s voice loud. shook you to the core, as this time you finally weren’t useless, you started compressions.
you moved without thinking, hands locking into position as you started compressions. the bed shifted slightly under the force, the rhythm immediately taking over the room.
“compressions good — keep going,” you heard dr al-hashimi’s voice.
the monitor finally fully lit up now that the leads were on properly. numbers began to stabilize into something readable—but not good.
“blood pressure is 78 over 46,” whitaker said, voice tight.
“oxygen is 86% and dropping.”
“heart rate is 32… now 28,” he added after a beat.
your arms didn’t stop.
“prepare the defib,” santos had said sharply.
there was a sudden shift in the room — fast, controlled chaos. the crash cart rolled closer, the pads being ripped open.
“pads on,” a nurse called. “charging.”
“still no pulse on check,” you told them, voice half breaking and half determined.
your focus narrowed to the rhythm of compressions, the count in your head, the weight of what you walked into.
“charging to two hundred,”
“clear the patient!”
hands lifted.
a sharp jolt.
the body reacted slightly—then nothing changed.
your breath hitched without you meaning it to.
“resume compressions.”
you didn’t hesitate.
back into rhythm. faster now, like time itself was running out of patience.
“heart rate is 18…” dr al-hashimi said quietly.
a pause.
“…it’s dropping again.”
the room felt tighter.
“come on,” whitaker muttered under their breath.
you pressed harder, arms burning, guilt screaming louder than anything else in your head.
if i had checked earlier…
“pulse check,” dr robby ordered.
hands lifted off.
silence for a beat too long.
“no pulse.”
another round started immediately.
your arms were shaking now, but you didn’t stop. the rhythm blurred into instinct, into something you didn’t have to think about anymore.
“heart rate is 12…” princess said, voice barely above a whisper.
a pause.
“…it’s barely holding.”
“come on,” someone said again, quieter this time.
the room felt different now. still moving, still working—but something had shifted. urgency was still there, but hope was thinning at the edges.
“prepare another shock,” santos said.
the pads were checked again. hands moved fast, practiced, precise.
“charging.”
you kept compressing.
“if we get any rhythm at all, we push it,” she added.
the machine beeped steadily — too steady for what was happening.
“charge complete.”
“clear.”
your hands lifted again with everyone else.
the shock hit.
the body tensed slightly —
then fell back into stillness.
the monitor didn’t improve.
“resume compressions.”
you did.
but slower now, like something in the room was starting to weigh on everyone equally.
“pulse check,” dr robby said again.
hands lifted.
the pause stretched longer than before.
no one needed to say it immediately.
“…no pulse.”
silence followed—not loud, but heavy.
dr robby exhaled shakily.
“again,” you heard santos try, but it didn’t carry the same certainty anymore.
dr al-hashimi looked at the monitor, then at the team.
a long beat passed.
“we’ve done everything we can,” she said quietly.
no one argued.
the compressions stopped.
the room didn’t empty — but it went still in a different way now. like the air itself had changed.
the monitor continued for a moment, as if it hadn’t caught up yet.
then it flattened completely.
a single unbroken line.
“…time of death,” princess said, after a pause. “4:12.”
“i’m sorry.” you finally stopped, lifting your hands off the chest of the deceased woman.
your chest was so tight that you might pass out on scene, your vision was going away.
it was so hot yet you were shaking, your legs felt weak. you were sweating.. cold sweat.
“you should’ve paid attention.” you heard santos’ voice, disappointed.
you heard ringing in your ears, but you still fought to not be bothered by it.
“as much as i do not want to say it, this is .. your patient. and you’re responsible.” this time, dr robby had told you.
the others just stood there in silence, bowing their head in honoring.
you swallowed but it hurt, it felt like there was a big bruise in your throat.
and finally, you felt it. like something clicked in your head, you just couldn’t take it anymore.
“i’m sorry.” you said, tired and silent. quickly and weakly exiting the room.
holding yourself to not fall on the ground, and finally — reaching the bathroom.
you almost didn’t have the strength to push the door open but you did.
and you went into the closest stall, locked yourself and let yourself slide down the door.
sobbing, as you closed your eyes and hoped it’ll end.
everything was closing up, and finally — you were gone.
after about a minute, you woke up. on a bed, still in the er.
the lights were bright, too bright.
you heard chatters from outside, beeping from the monitor.
you didn’t pass out did you?
before you even got to speak, the door had opened to dr al-hashimi.
“hey, you’re awake. you passed out in the bathroom we had to use a key.” she said, a soft chuckle at the end to break the ice.
“i’m sorry.” you once apologized but she waved her hand, dismissing it.
“for what? i know that dr santos and dr robby’s words really got into your head, but trust me,” she said, putting her hand on top of yours.
“it really really isn’t your fault. people die. and you can’t fight that.” al-hashimi’s voice was soothing, that finally you let out a deep sigh.
“are you okay?” she asked you, “y-yeah. really.” you answered her, forcing yourself to nod.
“don’t lie to me.” she told you, narrowing her eyes on you.
“i’m okay.” you repeated. as finally, she took it and believed you.
“you know, when i first experienced my patient dying on me, i, too had a panic attack.” she shared, chuckling to herself.
“i guess were the same.” you said, earning a smile from her.
“anyway, if you are feeling bad or atleast a small thing that isn’t normal — tell me. i’m always with you. just tell me, okay?” she gently scolded and reminded you.
you nodded, you’ve never seen her this overprotective of you, but you felt safe.
she sighed, looking away before finally turning back to you and saying, “.. i love you.”
rubbing her thumb on your knuckles, as she smiled softly to you. “i.. love you too.” you returned to her, as she gave you a warming kiss on the forehead.
“i’ll see you later love, do not move.” dr al-hashimi said, as she gave you one last smile before closing the lights for you and closing the curtains before finally, leaving.
and at that moment, you know you’ve won a lottery with that woman.
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