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1. To have and to hold by staticsapphic

   Fandoms: Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn, Bridgerton (TV)  

   • Explicit
   • No Archive Warnings Apply
   • F/F
   • Work in Progress

   29 Aug 2026

   Tags

   • No Archive Warnings Apply
   • Francesca Bridgerton/Michaela Stirling
   • Original Characters
   • Bridgerton Family (Bridgerton)
   • Alternate Universe - Modern Setting
   • Infidelity
   • Pining
   • Arranged Marriage
   • Codependency
   • Francesca “Whoose pussy is this” Bridgerton
   • Soft dom fem/ bottom Michaela Stirling
   • Touchy and clingy Michaela
   • Francesca is down horrendous
   • Post-Wedding
   • Francesca Has Wet Dreams
   • Francesca is fighting for her life
   • Meeting the love of your life on your wedding day
   • Age Gap Appreciator Francesca
   • Smut with Plot and Unhinged Dialouge
   • Jealousy and Possession
   • Send Help for Michaela
   • Sexual Frustration
   • Michaela is Avoidant
   • Michaela · Sex Therapist × Francesca · Pianist
   • Guilt
   • Pressure cooker lesbian Angst
   • Secret Midnight Visits
   • Hungcesca x100
   • Shame and Francesca don’t go together
   • Bad Boundaries
   • Michaela Runs From What She Can’t Deny
   • Francesca Can’t Behave
   • Mutual Lack Of Restraint
   • Michaela Sees It Coming

   Summary

   Francesca slipped into the room, quiet as a shadow, and slid beneath the sheets. Her arm hooked over Michaela’s waist, pressing against her back.

   Michaela didn't open her eyes, her voice thick with sleep. "Fran... we’ve talked about this. You can’t keep sneaking in here."

   Francesca’s throat worked, her voice a fragile, desperate whisper. "Please... just let me hold you a little longer, you don't have to be afraid of the dark."

   Michaela let out a soft, aching exhale against the pillow. “I should have locked the door. I should have locked it every single night."

   "Don’t make me bite you—stop thinking and turn around for me," Francesca breathed, fingers sliding lower, boldly smoothing down the curve of Michaela’s lower hip, cupping the full shape beneath.

   "Mmm, no… we’re wrong, Fran… so wrong for this...." Michaela whispered, breath hitching as Francesca's palm flexed, pulling her flush against her thighs.

   “When I stood at that altar, Micki... I didn't see him. Every vow I spoke, every breath I took—it was your face I was looking at. I was marrying you," Francesca whispered into her neck.

   "Don't," Michaela squeezed her eyes tightly. "God, Fran, don't say that."

   Language:

   English

   Words:

   16,061

   Chapters:

   2/?

   Comments:

   54

   Kudos:

   231

   Bookmarks:

   71

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