#anthony bridgerton fanfiction
Text
A Beneficial Arrangement
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: A marriage pact with a Viscount. What could possibly go wrong?
Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f), loss of virginity, vaginal sex. Bickering, developing relationship.
Word Count: 6.1 k
Authors Note: Unbetaed. Anon request fill from HERE (Anthony and a headstrong independent reader make an unconventional marriage pact). Sorry it's taken so long to write this, but I hope you enjoy! <3
It’s a dreary, rather ordinary Tuesday in spring when your life takes a turn.
“The Viscount is in want of a wife.”
That statement is all you hear as you walk past the drawing room where your mother is taking tea with her good friend, the dowager Viscountess Bridgerton.
“My eldest needs a husband,” your mother responds, offering you as if merely chattel; bile rises indignantly as she does so. “But I fear she is far too outspoken to be a suitable Viscountess.”
You sigh in relief, ear pressed to the closed door now.
“Oh, believe me, nothing would be a better match for my darling Anthony than someone who will challenge him, stand up to him,” Violet peals a knowing laugh. “We should arrange a meeting.”
——
3 days later.
He assesses you with a cool eye as your gaze drifts briefly over to both of your mothers, watching expectantly from a nearby table in the tea shop.
“You should know I will only be taking a wife to fulfil my societal duty,” he sniffs airly. “However, I do not expect you to produce an heir. The title may pass to my younger brothers; they are more inclined to form romantic attachments than I. Their offspring can inherit this title; it feels like a curse anyhow,” he adds quieter, his tone mildly embittered.
“Well, on your attitude to marriage, I can wholeheartedly agree,” you state, stirring your tea primly. “I do not wish to be shackled. I wish to remain free. I shall marry, as there is no other path available to me, but I do not plan nor do I ever want to be someone's wife.” You utter the word with disdain as if it is toxic.
His admittedly very handsome face transforms into one of surprise, a faint dot of colour on his cheeks as he peers at you as if assessing you in a new light.
“What?” You frown at him, his silent stare becoming too heavy to bear as his interest and engagement intensify.
“You are the first woman I have ever met who shares my outlook,” he confesses, seemingly caught off-guard. “It is so utterly refreshing… and, frankly, novel.” He pauses to pass his fingers slowly over his lips in a way that makes your stomach swoop, even if you refuse to acknowledge such even to yourself. “I do believe we should meet again to discuss this further,” he concludes.
And thus, you find yourself with the suit of one Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, both of your mothers overjoyed at the prospect.
——
9 days later.
“If I must marry, you are the most tolerable woman I have met, I must concede,” he states nonchalantly as you meet to promenade.
It’s quite an opening line for only your third meeting, even for someone as renownedly blunt as the Viscount.
“And a good afternoon to you too, Viscount Bridgerton,” you drawl pointedly with a raised eyebrow, subtly hinting how his greeting may have been lacking.
He chuckles, a flash of what looks like admiration in his dark eyes.
“As such,” he continues, “I would not be averse to a martial arrangement with you. An agreement, a pact if you will, based on our mutual understanding of what we both want from such an endeavour.”
The speed and pragmatism of his apparent proposal do not surprise you in the least. In fact, you are actually grateful for the lack of ceremony around it. If you must marry, you prefer it be swift.
“Did you mean what you said last week? In the tearoom?” You quiz as you begin to walk shoulder to shoulder through Hyde Park, the early summer air heavy with the scent of roses.
“Every word,” he replies solemnly.
“Then, I suppose this is a beneficial arrangement for me too,” you shrug as if agreeing about the weather, not the very course of your future. But there is something about this man that feels inevitable, fateful, but not in a way you dread. Also, his face is so very pleasing. If you must indeed marry, at least the view across the dinner table will be nice.
“Then it is decided,” he nods decisively, a brusque smile passing over his lips. “I so greatly appreciate your candidness with regard to this matter. It makes the whole business so much easier to deal with.”
He offers a hand to shake, and you take it, bemused, shaking on the deal, pretending this mere touch doesn't make every butterfly in your stomach roar to life.
“I shall make the arrangements swiftly,” he states, again with a short smile and nod.
You are married within three weeks.
——
6 weeks later.
‘‘What on earth is this?” he practically spits as he rounds the corner of Bridgerton House onto the back lawn.
“What does it look like?” you sass, tearing the netted visor from your face.
“It looks an awful lot like my wife is fencing,” his reply dripping with conceited judgement.
“Well, I’m glad to know you do not need glasses, husband,” you respond dryly, nodding to accept the excuses of the butler you were sparring with, who suddenly seems very keen to scurry away now the Viscount has arrived.
“Perkins, do not think this has gone unnoticed,” Anthony calls pointedly after the retreating man.
“Leave him alone!” you bark, taking your husband aback with your ferocity, him turning to you and almost gaping in surprise. “Perkins must do my bidding as lady of the house, and I told him to fence with me,” you elucidate, keen that the innocent party not suffer any consequences for your decision.
“Women do not fence,” he sniffs, changing the subject somewhat.
“This one does,” you riposte, spearing your epee tip into the grass to remove the suede gloves.
“It is unbecoming of a Viscountess,” he adds almost haughtily.
“Good thing such matters hold no truck with me,” you shrug, knowing you are likely provoking him.
To hell with what is appropriate for a titled lady. The title, and all of its stifling rules and expectations, is the very last reason you married the man standing before you. No, the reason is far, far more simultaneously complex and simple than that. He excites you—in ways you don't even want to admit to yourself.
It’s not something you would divulge to anyone, but arguing with your new husband has become your new favourite pastime. On the rare occasions you see him, that is. Since your wedding day, you have mostly been ships passing at the dinner table; otherwise, your lives have been very separate. At night, his rooms are at the other end of the long hallway from yours, and his days are apparently filled with business obligations. While the utter freedom to fill your days as you wish has been a blessing, it’s also been perhaps a touch lonely.
When you do see Anthony, you invariably end up clashing about something. And, well, it’s often the highlight of your week. A thrill zipping down your spine as you do so. The only person you have met who can keep up with your verbal sparring. It makes you excited, breathless, dizzy, a fizz low in your belly that feels entirely beguiling. Today is no different; you feel that same sensation as he stares at you, arms crossed, exasperated.
“Well, if you insist upon this rebellious pastime,’ he sighs after a few beats, snatching your epee, “the least you can do is improve your grip,” he grouses, rolling his eyes.
You startle as he crowds into your back, a warm hand wrapping around yours as he passes you the blade and demonstrates a different way to wield it that you concede feels better. The spike of victory in your bloodstream from winning the argument morphs into something entirely different as he stands behind you, his breath tickling your ear and the tendrils of your hair as he provides instruction.
You try to take the details on board, but your thoughts scatter with his overwhelming proximity. How have you never noticed the stirring amber notes of his cologne before? Or how very broad his chest is compared to his slim hips? Perhaps because this is the closest you have ever been, his body heat seeping into your spine, your heart fluttering hard against your ribs. You can’t decide if this effect your husband can have on you is the best or the worst thing. Somehow, it feels like both.
——
1 month later.
You are both relieved to avoid most of the season on the pretence of being on honeymoon, but inevitably, the time comes when you must debut as a married couple. Speculation about you growing ever since Lady Whistledown breathlessly reported your nuptials, a nearly unknown minor Ton member rapidly snaring the most eligible of perenially eligible bachelors.
So when you enter your first ball as Viscountess Bridgerton, all eyes are upon you. You feel mildly uncomfortable bedecked in jewels and a heavy silk dress, but know refinement is of importance at events such as these. You just cannot wait to get home and get out of them. This will never be your preferred milieu, a sentiment you apparently share with your husband—underneath his calm, unruffled exterior, you sense his dampened disquiet.
“Smile politely, nod in acknowledgement, but don't engage for any longer than necessary,” he counsels under his breath as an inevitable hush falls over the room when your arrival is announced. You are grateful for his steadfast support, his arm looped reassuringly through yours as you follow his advice, knowing he has navigated these waters much more than you have needed to. “The best thing to do is seem frightfully ordinary,” he explains quietly as you complete a circuit of the room. “They are ravenous for gossip; if none is to be had, their preoccupation will swiftly wane.”
Indeed, the initial excitement about your appearance soon dies down as other, perhaps more flamboyant, guests arrive. People approach expressing surprise about your union, but once he economically explains you just knew you were right for each other, they often quickly move on, seeming almost disappointed at the lack of apparent scandal.
As the evening progresses, you school your tongue at some of the barbs you overhear, more out of a wish to be left alone rather than any adherence to social rules. Most of the things that appear to preoccupy the Ton you have little patience for. As Anthony spends some time with business acquaintances, you eventually find yourself in the company of the female members of his family, whom you are quickly becoming very fond of with every passing day in their company. Particularly his benevolent mother and headstrong sister, Eloise. In fact, the latter is the primary witness to the flare of your true nature, fatigue overriding your ability to remain silent.
Cressida Cowper is being particularly venomous about a mutual acquaintance. Eloise is quick with her witty tongue in reply, and you cannot stop yourself from piling on your scorn as well.
“Perhaps if the braiding of your hair were less painful, it would allow you greater empathy,” you retort before you can stop yourself.
Eloise’s responding guffaw sprays lemonade all over Cressida, whose shocked mien is the last thing you see before she turns heel to attend to her ruined dress in private.
“That was sensational!” Eloise wheezes in awe as she blots the remnants of her beverage from her chin.
You sigh.
“It was unwise,” you correct, knowing you have probably just made an enemy of one of the worst gossips of the Ton.
“It was wholly accurate and justified,” a cool, authoritative voice cuts in, and you look up to find your husband before you, a rapt glint in his eye that makes your lungs feel tight. It appears he may have also been witness to the moment.
Eloise’s eyes briefly ping-pong between the two of you, and then she loops an arm into the crook of Anthony’s as you continue to gaze at each other, cataloguing something new about each other that you mutually admire.
“I like her,” Eloise nods at you. “Excellent choice of wife, brother,” she grins.
It breaks the spell between you but seems to further ingratiate you with at least one member of his family. And that makes you feel light as air in a way you don't fully understand.
——
2 months later.
Funnily enough, it’s another random Tuesday when your life takes a complete turn. Yet again, you find yourself in another heated debate with your husband of barely twelve weeks. This time while sojourning at your country estate, Aubrey Hall.
“Must you?” Anthony gripes, standing up from his desk and rounding towards where you stand.
“Must I what? Speak my mind?” you bite back, hands on your hips.
“Be so damn argumentative,” he expounds, hands also on hips, chest heaving a little, “urghh, you are so aggravating!”
“Same!” You shoot back. “I have never met a man quite as disagreeable as you,” you add, not realising as you argue that you have taken steps closer and are now huffing irritated breaths close to each other's faces.
“Why did you agree to marry me then?” he snarls, his gaze suddenly fixated on your bottom lip, unbeknownst to you, it’s glistening and swollen from biting in irritation at his demeanour.
“Right now, I have no earthly idea,” you volley in return, but your pounding heart gives away the real reason. No one makes you feel quite as alive as Anthony, even when he is driving you up the wall, like right now. “Why did you agree to marry me, seeing as I am so very ‘aggravating’?” you spit, parroting the word back at him.
His stare blisters as he draws himself to full height right before you.
“We made a pact,” he huffs, “this is duty, nothing more.”
But the way he breathes and holds himself speaks to something else. A war in his body and mind. The maelstrom in his eyes belying his words… and then it hits you. So singular it knocks the wind from your lungs. This is desire. He wants you. In all the ways a man can want a woman.
And damn it all to hell if you don’t feel precisely the same.
“For me as well,” your tart, mendacious reply is bitter on your tongue.
The tension in the air is taut like a cord, ready to snap. You both toe to toe, noses almost touching, laboured breaths as you stare each other down like some game to see who will capitulate first.
“I do believe we are at an impasse… wife,” the last word dripping with disdain, but he is leaning closer than he ever has, his lips fractional inches from yours.
“It would appear so…,” you concur, “…husband,” you roll the last word slowly, lingering on the end of the first syllable as if it is both a treat and a bitter pill on your tongue.
“I have been raised a gentleman,” he hisses, “but there are times that you test my resolve.”
“I do nothing of the sort!” you decry, knowing you are lying even to yourself now. Somedays lately, you live to simply push his buttons, just to see what he will do. “And resolve of what? To not be a good husband? Because I can tell you, forthright, you are doing a wonderful job of being a terrible husband,” you goad, knowing you are poking the proverbial beast now.
“I give you a wonderful home to run as you please, I give you the freedom to pursue whatever pastimes you wish, I let you speak your mind. As Viscountess, the world is yours. What else could you possibly want in a husband? I do not ask you to do things, wifely things, that I could,” he warns, his voice buzzing low. “I could demand you submit to my will; it is my right,” he growls.
A flame behind your ribs catches fire, even as your eyes flash indignant.
“You do not wish for that sort of wife; you told me as much yourself.” It’s a heated whisper, much breathier than you mean it to be.
“A man can change his mind,” he gravels, “same as a woman can change hers if she wishes.”
“What made you change your mind?”
He fixes you with a hypnotic, weighted stare.
“You.”
The way that one word drips from his lips tilts your whole existence. It’s so loaded you don’t know what to say. Unmoored, your system awash with chemicals, your mind flooding with images of sketches you have seen of men and women together. Of what the marital act can entail. It’s something you believed would not ever be a part of your marriage, your life, even, but now….
Now your handsome husband is staring at you, ragged breaths, face wild, telling you he has changed his mind. Maybe he wants that sort of marriage, that sort of union. Something gallops hard in your chest as he steps away, as if wrongly intuiting you are about to turn down his suit, and something bubbles up from deep inside you.
“Do not dare,” you growl.
His mouth falls open in shock.
“Do not tease me so and leave me wanting,” you continue with a boldness and timbre you barely recognise as your own. “‘Tis crueller to build false hope than to take what you want,” you sniff and stare him down, so wholly decisive in your intentions and desires. If this is the nudge he needs, you’ll give it.
“You want me to exercise my conjugal rights?” he falters, appearing utterly stunned.
You don’t answer; just do one thing, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. You close the last few inches and press your lips to his.
They are soft and plush against yours, making your insides warm and glowing. Then, Anthony makes a noise in the back of his throat, and suddenly, he is kissing you back. So ferociously, you squeak into his mouth as he opens your lips and slides his tongue over yours, his strong arms pulling you into an embrace so you are enveloped by his warm body.
Good lord.
You feel like you are drowning in him as he grabs your jaw, directing the kiss, turning it into something wholly other. Your lips move endlessly together as you both greedily take from the other for what seems like ages. When you pull apart, you are both heaving breaths and staring at each other, almost confused.
“Don’t you dare do that again,” you snarl, wanting to rip every item of clothing from your body and his.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds airily.
And then you crash into each other again. Drinking desperately from each other's mouths, powerless to resist whatever flame draws you together.
He walks you backwards as your tongues tangle, and you startle slightly as your bottom hits his imposing desk. Hands loop around your thighs, and he hoists you into the surface, never breaking the intoxicating kiss.
He tries to step between your legs, but your column dress is too tight to allow it. You attempt to wiggle the hem upwards as you kiss, then, with a frustrated grunt, he bats your hands away and, using a strength that shocks you, rips the silk material asunder from the hem to your hip.
“I loved this dress!” you decry over his lips, unwilling to admit you’d destroy every single dress you own if he just kept kissing you like this.
“I’ll buy you another,” he dismisses, pushing your thighs wide with his hands. “I’ll buy you as many as you want.”
“You had better,” you challenge, scarcely able to believe you even have the wherewithal to debate with him, especially as this is the first time a man has ever touched your bare leg.
He pulls back from the kiss to stare intently into your eyes as his fingertips trace from your kneecap up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You don’t mean to, but you tremble, having never been touched this way before. You gasp as his palm cups the apex of your thighs, his hand feeling so warm through the thin silk protecting your modesty, his fingers swirling circles over your patch of hair as the heel of his palm presses against your slit.
“I can feel your heat,” he hisses.
You can barely process what is happening, your body rioting as he touches and teases you, staring you down. Instinctively, you reach for the tiny buttons at your hip, but your hands fall away as he flicks his middle finger downwards and catches a nub that makes your body buck.
“Anthony,” it falls from your lips unbidden with a halting breath. It may well be the first time you have uttered his first name in his presence.
He groans at the sound. “Please, always say my name like that,” he pleads through gritted teeth.
So you repeat it, the same intonation, even as that finger drags slowly up and down over the swollen pearl between your legs, undone by how good it feels.
“Are you chaste?” he inquires; it’s not judgemental in tone, just pure curiosity, his ministrations lighter.
“Yes,” you admit quietly, “but I do know of the marital act”, you add, wanting him to know you are not entirely innocent.
“Hmm,” he hums, looking at once thoughtful and blistering, his finger moving more insistently again, “I am glad to hear it. Then you shall not be entirely shocked by what is about to happen?”
“So… we are to undertake it? The act?” you stutter, his finger making you feel so good you have to bite your lip.
But he doesn’t answer your question directly.
“Wife, how attached are you to these undergarments?” his tone almost idle, cocking his head to the side as his gaze lingers over them.
You shrug practically. “I have many exactly the same.”
Then, you gasp loudly as the sound of silk tearing fills the room. You are quaking as the warm air of his study swirls around your exposed, damp slit. He shocks you by dropping to his knees before you. Pushing your thighs wide on his desk and looking up at you with burningly intense eyes, he presses his face to your flesh, inhaling deeply, his nose buried in your pubic hair before his tongue peeks out and nudges the swollen nub he was teasing through the silk.
Your mouth drops open, and something inhuman escapes your lungs. Then he does it again, this time enclosing the whole area between his lips and sucking hard on your flesh, tongue curling and ploughing into your folds. The heat, the suction, the muscular swipe of his tongue feels so good your mind blanks out, a tremor in your splayed thighs that he holds forcibly open with warm hands. He keeps doing so for a few moments as your fingernails curl hard into the edge of his desk, scarcely able to do anything but writhe and gently moan. IIdly you think upon all of your curious research, never once had you heard of or read about a man doing as he is now, placing his head between his wife’s thighs and sniffing, drinking from her body.
“You are plenty ready for me, wife,” he huffs, his warm breath tickling your responsive folds, little ripples of pleasure deep inside scattering your thoughts. “Are you averse to me taking you right here?” he waves a hand nonchalantly at his large, imposing carved wooden desk.
“I… I rather thought su-such things could only ha-happen in a bed,” you confess stiltedly, a quiver in your voice.
He smirks up from between your thighs, turning his head to kiss the fragile skin there. “Oh, no, wife. We can fuck anywhere we please…” he pauses and looks sincere, “however, should you prefer a bed…”
“Here is fine,” you rush out, so very keen to have your husband make a woman of you. As if leaving this room may break the spell you are under. Location be damned. You just want to know him. He smirks again, placing a final quick kiss on your flesh, looking very pleased at your response.
“I wholeheartedly concur,” he rumbles as he hoists himself back up to stand, stepping inwards to rock his clothed pelvis against your pulsing nub. There is something hot and swollen in his trousers now, and you realise this must be his member.
“Show it to me,” you enthuse, nodding at the insistent bulge.
“So very impatient all of a sudden, wife,” he scolds with a bemused chuckle, grabbing your wrist and guiding your hand over the bump. It feels so hot and steely even through the fabric. “Unbutton me,” he orders casually, pointing to the fastening at his hip.
Exuberantly, you undo them quickly, keen to see if his member matches the sketches you have viewed. As the front of his trousers falls away, he quickly pushes down his white underwear. There, nestled in a thatch of dark hair at the base, is your husband's cock. Your eyes widen at the sight. It seems more considerable than the drawings you have seen, and you are temporarily taken aback by how red and almost angry it looks at the tip.
“Go ahead, touch it,” Anthony encourages, and with a slight tremble in your fingers, you reach forward and make contact with him.
“Oh!” you exclaim without thought, “it’s so soft, your skin, and so hot!”
He chuckles warmly at your assessment. “Indeed,” he huffs as you wrap your hand instinctively around it, feeling its weight and mass in your palm.
“This will not fit inside me, surely?” you blurt out.
“It will, I promise,” his tone mellow, tinged with understanding even as his breath staccatos when you start to move your hand, the instinct to rub inexplicable, but seemingly precisely what he wants. “Yes, perfect,” he rasps, eyes closing and tongue peaking out to lick his lips.
The odd mix of total honesty and soft appreciation between you as you acquaint yourselves with each other's bodies seems very apt, as if this is the only way such a development would ever transpire. And you realise, as you cradle his most intimate parts, that you trust this man with your very being. Despite your bickering, there is a thread of mutual respect under it that makes you feel safe, seen, and known in a way that no other person has.
“Take me now, husband,” you rattle through your teeth, watching a bead of something sticky form at the tip of his cock as you squeeze him in hypnotic, repetitive motions. The sight makes something in your body turn to fiery liquid, wanting him and that substance inside yourself in a way that doesn't make logical sense.
He growls at your words, grabbing your hand away from his cock and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the back of your knuckles as your eyes lock, a chaste, almost romantic interlude.
But then his hands grab your hips and haul you almost roughly to the very edge of the desk, your torn dress framing your splayed thighs, his trousers around his ankles as he takes his cock in hand and rubs the tip over your folds of flesh in a way that makes you moan under your breath.
“Are you certain?” he checks, even as he pants anticipatorily.
“God, yes,” you confirm, craving him in a way you have never felt about anything before. An urgent hook tugging deep inside your loins, calling to him like a siren song.
“Watch,” he murmurs darkly, his other hand rounding the back of your neck so your gaze is tilted down to where his cock nudges your opening.
So you do, as does he. Stare down to where your body meet, hissing loudly as his tip slips inside your soaked channel. Your eyes want to roll back at the sheer overwhelming sensation of it, but equally, it's such an enthralling sight that you can’t look away.
He moans loudly, lewdly, decadently as he pushes further into your heat, pausing to readjust your legs wider and tilt your pelvis more open.
“This next part may hurt, darling,” he whispers quietly, the first time he has ever used such an affectionate term for you, making your heart race.
“It's alright,” you reassure mutely in return, “I have heard as such.”
The hand around the back of your neck slides gently until he tilts your chin up to meet his tender gaze.
“You are quite the woman,” he says, almost reverential, as he leans in and captures your lips in a sweet, soft kiss.
The movement propels his cock deeper into your body, and you cry out into his open mouth at a stab of sharp pain inside.
“That's it done,” he mutters reassuringly into your lips as you whimper gently.
He stills as you adjust to the girth, the heat, and feeling so very filled.
“More…” falls from your mouth spontaneously, the want rising, hungry for a need to be met, a thirst slaked, unlike anything you have experienced.
The smile that breaks out over his face makes your nipples pebble hard in your stays, and he slides deeper as you cling to him, exhaling unevenly as he keeps sinking further into your pussy, pushing you open. Just when you think you cannot take more, he stops, and you feel his body pressing wholly against yours.
You stare at each other, eyes wild and wide, unable to form words but knowing instinctually how good this feels for both of you. He looks untamed, something urgent rippling in his being. And without breaking the gaze, he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock is inside you, then ploughs back in, in one determined, decisive stroke.
You don't stop the decadent noise that escapes your lungs, your toes curling into the soles of your feet at how wonderful and all-encompassing that feels. Same as you don't miss the victorious smirk on his face at your reaction.
Then it’s a hungry blur of movement as your hands grab his biceps through his clothing, clinging on for dear life as he proceeds to move just like that first thrust. Over and over. Building in pace and with increasing intensity, him sensing your need for such things.
“Anthony…” his name spills over your lips again, and the impact on him is nothing short of extraordinary.
His hands clamp vicelike to your hips, branding heatedly over your skin through your dress, straining the tendons of your inner thighs as he pushes your legs open impossibly wide, his pelvis crashing into yours in a way you are certain may leave bruises. And what shocks you most is just how much you want it. Want him to leave signs of his presence, want to look in the mirror and see the outline of his digits in the globes of your bottom.
He moans your name, hot and desperate, into your ear, his pace never wavering, a drop of sweat forming on his forehead that you can't look away from when he pulls back to tilt your heads together.
“I want to see,” you stumble out, pantingly, as he takes you harder.
“See what?” he sounds almost winded, his thrusts still spearing his cock into your body.
“See you entering me,” you huff into his cheek.
His responding noise is feral and has every inch of your body alight. He bows his spine outward so your bodies only touch where you are joined, and his hand feels heated and heavy on the back of your neck as you tilt your chin down to take in the sight.
His cock, rigid and huge, ploughing repeatedly into your body, shining with a slick substance you can only assume is from within you, the sight making you shudder, but not with anything approaching disgust. It’s something primal. A need to chase a conclusion, the power of the vivid tableau burned into your retinas.
“Don't stop, please don't stop,” you petition, looking back up to his face, your hands sliding up and down his torso now, raking urgent fingernails over his clothing.
He swears, and his lips are back on yours, searing and demanding. This feels like a frantic wave you are riding together, a trickle of moisture running down your spine as you start to push your hips forward as much as you can, meeting his thrusts halfway.
“You are fucking perfect,” he snarls over your tongue, and you couldn't agree more.
Time seems elastic as he lowers you so your back rests on the piles of no doubt important paperwork, not that he pays it any mind, him hunched over you, pulling your hips out over the edge now, the range of motion it allows him making you gasp. He is taking you without mercy now, breath hot on your throat as he moans your name, his hand squirrelling between your bodies and making your vision dance with dots as he passes a slightly calloused tip over your clit.
“Come for me,” he breathes, the request both hopeful and commanding.
“What does that mean?” your question puffed into his lush hairline.
“Oh my darling, just you wait,” his voice dripping with promise even as your skin feels like it wants to vibrate off your very bones as his fingers and cock take you somewhere you never envision. An ecstasy both outside but rooted deep in your being.
He murmurs encouragingly as you struggle for air, your lungs burning, scarcely remembering to breathe, skating some kind of precipice that feels dangerous and addictive. Then, with a flick of his thumb and a gentle bite of your earlobe, you fall into an abyss. Everything all at once quiet and loud, eyes screwed shut as colours burst behind them, and every fibre of your being seems to snap and break, rearranging in a mind-shattering way. Your pussy convulsing hard around his cock that now seems impossibly large.
Then, with a deep booming cry, you feel him lance deeper than ever, his whole body tensing and jerking. A warmth spreads inside, and you vaguely realise he is reaching completion, spilling his seed inside you. For what seems like ages, your mind and body float somewhere, utterly sated, suddenly understanding why this act can be so all-consuming and there is so much written of it.
When your mind returns to the room, you are panting into each other's necks, both breathlessly stunned at how animalistic your first intimacy was. Somehow, your antagonistic chemistry transmuting into an explosive, consuming passion.
“We are going to bed right now,” his tone wrecked, rough, so damn irresistible you want to bite his flesh, even while you still recover from what transpired. Fires stoked again just by those seven words.
He pulls up his trousers haphazardly, picks you up bridal-style, and sweeps you out of his office and up the grand staircase, ignoring the shocked looks of staff at your torn dress and his roughly pulled clothing.
“We are not to be disturbed,” he barks at his valet, who blanches and leaves the room as Anthony practically throws you onto his imposing four-poster bed. Then, as you lay there, he strips naked before you, and you want to nuzzle every inch of his toned, magnificent body.
___
It’s three days before you reemerge from what is now your joint bedroom. From that day on, you are never without your husband for more than two days; such is your magnetic need for each other. And when your belly swells with the first of your many children, he confesses his ardent, undying love for you, you returning the sentiment instantly, having felt the same for what seems like forever.
A hurried, naive pact between two proud, independent souls becoming something wholly other—a loving, passionate marriage of equals. You still squabble with unerring frequency, but now it ends in lovemaking, the intensity sweeping you both into an ephemeral bliss.
A beneficial arrangement indeed.
Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies @m-rae23 @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @vane28282 @kisskissshutmydoor
#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton smut#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x female reader#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton x y/n#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton smut#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton#1k notes#1k notes omg you guys!#2k notes#2k notes holy crap you guys!#3k notes#3k notes WOAH that's amazing you guys
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Too much : Anthony Bridgerton x reader
Request: yes! Anthony and his wife having an argument.
***
„My lord.”
One of Bridgertons’ most trusted servant knocked on the door of his office and was bold enough to enter inside without invitation.
„I specifically told everyone to not disturb me.” Anthony muttered, not giving his man more than a grunt of annoyance.
Viscount’s sudden change of attitude has been the talk of the whole house lately. After months of sweetness and caring and love between him and his beloved wife Lady Y/N Bridgerton of house Y/H/N something has switched.
For worse.
Man of the house has became distant (again), leaving his wife to tend to herself. Suddenly, his duties, his visits to the sibling’s, social activities (which was a synonim of spending hours at gentleman’s club) and travels to the other parts of the kingdom (seemingly to inspect the state of assets) took most of, if not whole of his time.
Everyone’s noticed.
And even without the viscount and his wife ending up on lady Whistledown’s latest brochure.
But truthfully with lord Bridgerton’s stubborn nature and finality there wasn’t much anyone could do, even considering all the sympathy for his young wife.
„I’m afraid you have a very important visit my lord.”
„Just tell whoever it is, that I’m not taking visits at the moment.”
„My lord -”
„Thomson, did you not hear what I said?” finally Anthony raised his gaze on the poor servant.
„It’s the viscountess, my lord.” the other man stuttered.
‘My mother?”
„Your wife, sir.”
„Oh, right....” of course, now Y/N was the viscountess, but somehow it was easy to forget she has been holding that title.
„Shall I - shall I tell the lady to come back another-?”
„No. No I’ll see my wife now.” Anthony sighed and since there was no other word from him the butler froze, unsure of how to behave „Well? Let her in, will you?” there was the annoyance again.
The door was opened and there she was.
Y/N. In all her glory, looking beautiful as always, wearing that dress that always took Anthony;s breath away since she nearly glowed while walking. Her smile did not even falter for a second as she nodded to the servant in a silent acknowledgement, but her eyes were cold and sad, uncovering she hasn’t in fact been well lately. Regardless of the rumours, allegations that the viscount stopped loving her after no more than a year since marriage and got himself a lover (please don’t let it be Sienna all over) she held her head high and kept the appearances. No one had to know that the cheerful, graceful viscountess Bridgerton were spending her nights alone in a cold marriage bed, tossing, turning, tormenting herself with thoughts and longing for the embrace of the man she loved with all her heart.
‘Husband.” she said calmly once the door closed behind her, leaving her just standing in front of him awkwardly.
„Wife.”
„I didn’t have the faintest idea I do need to announce my visit in advance. I shall correct that mistake in the future if that’s your wish my lord.”
„Is there any specific reason of why you’re here Y/N?”
„Is my presence here this disturbing to you my lord?”
The scribbling on the paper was the only answer she got and it finally broke all her inhibitions and pretences.
"Anthony!"
"What?" he snapped looking up at her from the pile of documents on his desk.
"Talk to me!"
"I'm busy!"
"And I'm lonely! You've been spending time with Benedict and Colin and Daphne and your siblings and god knows where else but not me!"
"They are my family, Y/N."
"I am your family! This is not what your mother-"
"Don’t you dare-" he stood up abruptly almost tripping the chair, throwing daggers at her. "Don't you dare say a word about my mother!"
Now that's a drama the whole household heard.
„Your mother-” she tried again, this time more sternly taking one step forward „showed me nothing but kindness. Your whole family showed me nothing but kindness. All of them. Except-”
„Don’t finish it.” he warned but it came much more like a spat.
„-you.”
„Well I didn’t force you to marry me!”
The silence that fell between them after that one sentence was deafening. Nothing has ever hurt Y/N this much in her entire life. Never before Anthony has let himself say such cruel words in the moment of weakness and anger. All because he felt too much, because he needed and loved her too much.
„No.” she said with a tiny voice, her face going as pale as the wall behind her. „no, you didn’t force me. Not sure if you didn't do it to yourself.”
‘Y/N....” Anthony took a step towards her reaching his hand in a poor attempt to form a word that would remedy the situation, help him explain himself and bring her some comfort. „I didn’t mean-”
„I’m sorry I’ve seemingly ruined your life, my lord.”
„That is not-”
„Please accept my deepest condolences and apologies for ruining your blooming love life with that actress you knew. Know. Shall you remind me her name?”
„Y/N!” he shouted in pure desperation.
„Her name, Anthony!” now she was using her noble voice, leaving no word for discussion even to the viscount.
„No.”
„Sienna.” Y/N hissed through clenched teeth, her behaviour far from lady-like. „That’s her name isn’t it? Sienna?”
„You can’t help but remind me of the past mistakes, don’t you, my lady?” her husband growled turning her back to her not wanting to see her face anymore. „You’re the one I vowed to.”
‘Forcefully, apparently. Maybe the only mistake you made was letting me walk the aisle and taking my hand while saying I do.”
„Maybe it was! Maybe I didn’t give enough thought to it! Perhaps I didn’t consider that seeing you every day, walking the rooms of my house, using the title of my wife, naming yourself viscountess Bridgerton will be too much to bare to my heart!”
What Anthony did not consider at that moment was that Y/N would take it way differently than he intended.
He was merely thinking that it was too much too handle cause he was not used to being so attached, so dependant, so - well,forgive me the word - needy. Of her, her touch, her words, her presence, her everything. Hence the distant he put between him and his wife. Perverse nature made him run away before loosing her.
Ironically, causing her to turn away, barely holding back tears, instead of falling into his arms. (such a surprise, right?)
„Forgive me my lord, for keeping your mind occupied with my humble person for too long. I am but nothing if not a modest woman, unworthy of the attention of the viscount.”
Oh god, what did he do...?
„You are -”
„Below you. Obviously. Perhaps I should have considered your coldness and self-isolation as well. I don’t -” she gulped „I don’t understand what happened to you, Anthony.”
„I-” as pathetic as that was her husband was trying to explain himself to her.
„Feelings overwhelm you Anthony.” that was something he could not disagree with „Now, my lord, if you’ll excuse me, I shall leave, since as you said - you’re busy and I clearly bring you this much displeasure. I shall not bother you again any time soon.”
Before he could stop her Y/N bowed to him in a way more formal and distant way Anthony would wish for, and simply walked away. Leaving him frozen, desperate and broken with the urge to run after her, apologise and reason with that fiery woman who always knew how to make his blood boil. He wanted to hold her, love her and whisper sweet nothings into her ear while feeling her in the most intimate way a man and a wife could ever be together.
But did nothing while she disappeared behind the door.
„Prepare my carriage” she commanded the first servant that came her way.
„Yes, my lady, may I ask to what destination?”
„I’m going to visit my sister-in-law.”
„Certainly lady Briderton. It’ll be ready for you.”
„And not a word of it to my husband.”
„But my lady -”
‘Not a single word. This is an order, not a request.”
She needed a word with the only person who could possibly understand.
part 2 possible... (I think ;) )
edit: not enough
#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton fic#bridgerton angst
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
To Be Alone With You
Anthony Bridgerton x female!Sharma!reader
Warnings: Smut, TENSION, cursing, oral (f), reader is Kate's full sister, kissing, touching when not supposed to, Anthony and his voice (warning himself), virgin reader (innocent ofc), sex on a dock (lol), kinda public sex, slight angst
I am so sorry that it got so long but it is so worth it. This is also my first Bridgerton fic so hope its good. :)
Summary: It was time that Anthony Bridgerton to finally meet the final Sharma sister who may stand in his way of marrying Miss Edwina Sharma but not like he expected her to.
Anthony Bridgerton was a man who was used to having any woman melt and cling to his every word. Women practically threw themselves at his feet the moment he walked in the room. His presence was a strong one, making everyone eager to please the viscount.
When Viscount Bridgerton met Edwina Sharma, the newly named "Diamond of the Season", he was happy that he could find at least one woman with half a brain. Miss Edwina was the suitable bride and soon Viscountess. It was almost too easy, so he thought. That was until he met the elder sister of Miss Edwina. Kate Sharma, a woman of one and twenty who was unwed herself, was a challenge that Anthony could not refuse. He fell into a pursuit to win over the eldest Sharma sister, doing everything by the book. Well, with a few exceptions.
The Viscount did not want a love match. He could never fall in love with the woman who will bear his children. He just couldn't. And Miss Edwina Sharma was exactly the woman who he could not possibly love but, she would make a wonderful bride for him to breed and come to have a heir to fill the Viscount role when Anthony died.
A last, his mother, Viscountess Violet Bridgerton, had invited the Sharma family to visit the lovely Aubrey Halls. It would be Mrs. Mary Sharma, the lovely girls' mother, Miss Edwina Sharma and then Miss Kate Sharma. Anthony was ready to deal with Kate when she arrived.
---
Dinner was being served when the thunder started. Benedict seemed like he had lost his mind, no doubt had drank Colin's tea that he brought from his travels.
"Have you noticed, Col?" Benedict asked, "The twinkles of the candles, it is as....as if we sit among the stars."
Eloise snorted and looked to her older brother, "What is wrong with you?''
"I was just telling Benedict how brilliant the stars were in Greece," answered Colin.
Benedict went to take a sip of his wine but knocked it over, causing Violet and the other ladies to gasp at the table. The brother smiled and rubbed his hands over his cheeks in an innocent way.
"Lord Bridgerton, Miss Sharma here," A butler said.
"Whatever do you mean, Miss Sharma is here? How many are there?"
In just a few seconds a woman walks in, wearing the similar purple dress that the Sharma sisters were wearing. She looked identical to Kate, except her eyes were lighter. Her hair was more brown than black and she held her head high. Her presence was enough to even sober up Benedict for a moment.
"Is it just me or is there two Kates?" Benedict said, mind foggy.
"I am so sorry for my late arrival. Lady Bridgerton, the house is lovely." The woman said.
Violet blushed and thanked the woman. The older woman always enjoyed getting compliments about her home that she shared with Edmund.
"You said you couldn't make it," Edwina states as she moves to hug the woman. Everyone was confused as a goose until Kate stood up.
"This is my sister," Kate said, moving to stand by her.
You introduce yourself and smile at everyone, that is until you see Anthony. He had this look about him and you couldn't quite tell.
"I assume this is the viscount you were telling me about, Kate?" You said.
"Yes, this is Lord Bridgerton. He is the viscount and is to marry Edwina."
You looked at him and he just smirked. He had found a new toy to play with. And god did he want to play.
You looked at him.
"My lord, forgive me for my tartiness," You say, voice rich.
"All is forgiven, my lady." He had a hard look.
"Please, I am hardly a noble lady to earn that title,'' You tease.
Anthony was taken by surprise, no one had ever teased about their noblity or anything. Being a proper lady is very serious and not taken lightly. There was another Sharma sister, but at least this one seemed nice. For now.
---
You were quite the most annoying and challenging lady Anthony had the misery to meet. You talked too much, you jested a bit, your teasing with Benedict made his blood boil. Your words melting off your tongue and practically bringing Anthony's younger brother to his knees.
Benedict's face had blushed right before you move to rest your hand on his shoulder.
"My dear, Benedict, how are you?" You asked kindly, flashing that beautiful smile that made everyone melt.
"I am quite well, Miss Sharma." He looked down right flustered with your presence beside him.
Lady Bridgerton held a small ball at Aubrey Hall and Benedict had just finished dancing with you. The two of you had swept through the floor, everyone in envy that Mr. Bridgerton's attention was solely on you.
"Brother, I hate to steal our guest from you but I am in need of a dance," Anthony stepped in to say.
"I suppose that I have one dance in me," You laughed.
"I hadn't asked yet," Anthony said.
"Well, in that case, Benedict you wouldn't mind having yet another dance with me?" You smirked when Anthony rolled his eyes and groaned.
Once you got on the dance floor, Anthony could not keep his eyes off you, even as he danced with Edwina and Kate.
"My brother seems to be taking a liking to you," Benedict smiled.
"Please, he wants to marry my sister. After all, who even said I wanted him. Maybe I want you," You whisper the last part in his ear. He shudders against you and smiles.
"Is that true now, Miss Sharma?"
"Perhaps."
----
Pall Mall was the ruthless game that the Bridgerton's ever played. The Mallet of Death sat in your hands as Benedict had handed it to you with a wink and a sly smile. You blushed at the brother's antics.
He moved to be closer to you and whispered something in your ear which made you snort aloud and Kate looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
"Who has my bloody mallet?" Anthony's voice boomed in the air.
"My lord, I do not know," Kate smirked.
"Where is it?"
You coughed to clear your throat, suddenly bringing the Viscount's attention to you. That might have been a bad idea. It surely was.
"You...You have my mallet, I believe."
"I do?" You inquired.
"Yes, Miss Sharma, you do."
"Well, I suppose that I could just give it to you," You start to hand it to him, his siblings surprised at how easy you were giving it up, and Anthony was smiling, "But first you will have to catch me." You took off running down the field and Anthony just watched in surprise.
"Did she?"
"I believe she did," Daphne laughed. She watched as her older brother looked as if he wanted to blow up.
"Dear brother, I think you should go get her if that mallet is very important to you." Colin laughed as Anthony ran down the field, looking for you as the Mallet of Death rested in your possession.
He ran looking for you and he heard your sweet giggle coming from in the garden. He looked to see that everyone had given up on waiting for them and started the match without the two of you. He walked around the garden to find you crouching behind a hedge and was covering your mouth as you looked around the side of the bush, hoping to not be seen.
His boots moved to quietly as he stalked closer to your frame. He then grabbed your waist and picked you up, causing you to gasp into his hand.
"Lord Bridgerton, put me down this instant."
He placed you down on the ground and stands close to your body. His warmth and scent poured over you in waves. He smelt like sweat, dirt, body wash, slight scent of vanilla, and sandalwood?
"Lord Bridger-"
"Anthony, my name is Anthony." He said, panting at the closeness that he had created.
"My lord-"
"Anthony."
"My lord, it is improper to call you by your given name," You say, trying to catch your breath and not breathe his scent in.
"And us being in my mother's garden alone is very improper, I dare say, Miss Sharma."
Your smell floods his senses when he takes a deep breath and move closer to you, chests touching. The smell of dirt, sweat, lilies and Jasmine? God, it drove him crazy. Just being around you drove him crazy.
"You followed me here.''
"You ran here."
"You chased me."
"You took my mallet."
"I-" You stutter, "Benedict gave it to me."
He looks at you with something dark in his eyes, something that burned with fiery. His hand came to touch your waist and you nearly melt. He looks at your chest, noticing that you were wearing the Bridgerton color. You normally wore purple but you were wearing the baby blue that stood for his family.
"You are wearing my family color," He says, blood rushing some where it did not need to be.
"Oh, I had not known that I wasn't allowed to wear blue."
"It stands for my family and you...are...wearing...my...color."
His body presses closer to you, invading your space. He moves to corner you against the tall hedge, the only thing keeping your situation from any on lookers.
His mouth moves to rest beside your ear, hot breath fanning over the exposed skin there, goosebumps rising on your skin.
"You want something, I can sense it."
You shudder.
"And what would that be, my lord?"
"You want me," He said lowly.
"You are to marry Edwina," You correct him.
"That doesn't change that you desire me," He chuckles at your attempt.
"I beg your pardon. You are a rake and I have no desire for such a person like you. You are to marry my sister, not me. If you wish to be with my sister than act like it, if not then leave her alone. I will not be some play thing for you to play with when you want to."
"Oh but you are my play toy. You are whatever I want you to be. Do you know why?" He asked.
"Why?"
"Because all I have to do is whisper real close to your ear, like this," He moved even closer, "And tell you that I desire you in ways that would make any mama blush and cry out for improper topics to a lady."
You take in a ragged breath.
"Desire me?"
"Yes, why do you think I came out here to get you?"
"To get your mallet?"
"No, so I can have you."
" You are courting my sister to marry. I am done with this topic and I am leaving this garden. Good day, Lord Bridgerton."
---
Anthony was reeling. He couldn't stop thinking about you. He can't sleep at night because of you. It wasn't your fault. No, it was your fault. You were the one who kept reminding him of his soon to be proposal to your sister and putting him in his place. Heavens above, he couldn't help but be aroused when you put him where he was meant to be. And that perfume that you have, Jasmine and Lillies, god it did things to him.
---
The day had been hot, very hot and you knew that you shouldn't but you were burning for a swim in the lake. You couldn't help it. After being in the garden with the Viscount, it felt you aflame.
Sneaking out of your chambers, you made your way outside to the lake that rested toward the trees.
Looking around, you made sure that no one was up and you were making sure that you were not followed. You made your way to a tree and took off your coat. Yo began your task of unbuttoning your gown.
Anthony watched you remove each piece of fabric from your body as he made his way down to the lake himself. He had not known that you were going to be here. He had not expected it. He always goes for a midnight swim when he couldn't sleep. Why he couldn't sleep? You.
Slipping onto the dock, you take a dive, cold water enveloping your body. It felt heavenly against your heated skin. Anthony was never to be allowed to know that he was the reason behind the midnight swim in the lake. You swam to the middle and was sighing while looking up to the moon. The entire lake was lit by the moon, banishing all shadows from being cast onto your face. You looked angelic.
Anthony slipped in the water after stripping completely bare and went underwater. He wanted to see you move about when you were by yourself. He had wanted to see you nude, part of his mind begging him to see what you looked like, but you were still a lady and he was a gentleman.
You heard a splash and you turned around very quickly, spotting none other than Anthony Bridgerton. You knew you were caught and he would laugh at you but he just swam closer. You could only see his shoulders and water was dripping down them to be collected back to the lake.
"My lord-"
"I do believe that we are now way past formalities," He chuckled.
He was silently begging to hear his name fall from your lips. He knew this was wrong. You were his betrothed sister. You were a lady. You were innocent. If he took that from you, you would be ruined. But...but you looked so desirable. You looked just ready to be ravished by his mouth. To be tasted in places that you had never thought of to be touched. To be submitted to such incredible pleasure that Anthony knew that he could bring you. To be his.
He swam closer to you, grabbing your hand which he used to pull you until you were placing your hands on his shoulders to hold onto. You gasped at how warm he still was, even in the chilled water of the night. Anthony looked at you, smiling when he realizes that you move even closer, your legs brushing every time you move to keep yourselves afloat.
"I want you," He admits.
He kisses your lips, groaning when you kiss back only for a second before he feels himself being pushed away from you.
"You are engaged to my sister," You say.
"Not yet."
"But-"
"But, I want you. I don't want Edwina. I don't want Kate. I want you," He says, "I desire you."
Anthony kissed your lips once more, swallowing any sound coming from your mouth. His tongue brushed yours and you moaned. You had never done that but with Anthony, you felt so good you couldn't keep it inside.
Anthony had you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling something quite odd in between his legs but you didn't question it when he took your breast into his awaiting mouth. He sucked your nipple and ran his tongue around it as he teased you mercilessly. Your hair was down so it was hanging in the water as you threw your head back in bliss as he moved to bite at your collarbones and neck.
Anthony moved the two of you all the way to the dock, picking you up out of the water and seating you directly onto the hard wood. He then watches as you move back, suddenly aware of how exposed you are to him. He puts his hands on the dock and pushes himself out of the water, droplets trickling down his slightly hairy chest down to his now every noticeable something. You didn't know what on earth it could even be.
"What is that?" You said shyly, pointing to his hips.
"That would be my cock." He just chuckled.
"It looks hard," You said, "does it hurt?"
He groaned at your innocence. God, you were going to be the death of him. You looked so nervous to even ask and then when you did, you blushed deeply. You were so cute.
"It hurts some times when I desire someone really bad," He explained.
"Like Edwina? Did it ever hurt for Edwina or Kate?" You asked softly.
"No, never with them. I want you," He said, holding your face, "God, you consume every thought that I make. You make it so, so hard to be a gentleman. There is no way that I can escape you, no matter how hard I try because you are always in my mind."
He kissed you once more and you let him. You were going to forget about Edwina, who the man currently moving in between your legs and kissing every inch of your body, was supposed to get married to. You were going to forget the rules of being a proper lady. You were going to forget formalities and just revel in the pleasure that is being caused by the mouth of your sister's soon to be betrothed.
"Anthony!" You cried when he made contact with the little bud between your folds and he licked it. Your body was shot with electricity that sent your back to be arching.
He hummed against your core and went back to sucking on your clit. No one or nothing could have prepared you for the Viscount's tongue to slip inside of you. He had done so when you were pulling on his hair as you grasped for anything but you could not find anything to ground you. Anthony swept you away in pure pleasure as he ate you like a starved man. He drank anything your body was willing to give and he took it with a groan. His eyes rolled back as he tasted you.
"Oh, my lord-"
"It's Anthony. Just Anthony," He said before staring at your weeping cunt.
Your hands pulled at the man's hair and his other hand, that wasn't holding down your hips, moved up to grab a hold of your free hand that was gripping your breast. Your back arched when he made one last circle with his tongue on your clit and you burst with carnal desire. You shook against Anthony's mouth as he drank you in.
He thought you were so beautiful laying out for him, under the stars on his dock, wet hair after a late night swim and most of all, the way the moon shone down on you. You looked ever so innocent but oh so dirty.
"Are you okay?" He asked when he noticed you not moving but still shaking.
"I'm more than okay."
He laughed and began kissing up your body. His tongue poked out every once and a while as he traveled up to your mouth. The taste of yourself was erotic. You had never known something could exist. Anthony moved on top of you and positioned himself so that his cock would rest between your sensitive folds. He had to contain himself so that he wouldn't cum right on the spot.
You gave him a nod before he claimed your lips as he pushed himself inside your waiting body. You moaned out loud before you started panting against Anthony's mouth as the two of you tried to adjust to the sudden feeling. His arms shook as his head fell onto your chest as your hand ran through his hair, pulling slightly.
"Are you ready for me to move because if you aren't that's okay but I really need to move?" Water trickled down his body as he held himself above you, looking down at you.
"Please, Anthony." He smiled at his name and started to slowly pull out, letting you feel every ridge and vein his dick possessed and you were enjoying it. Anthony thrusted back in and your head fell back against the wooden dock. As Anthony thrusted his cock in and out of you, the only things that could be heard was your labored breathing and the sounds of your bodies moving against each other as the two of you reached new heights together and the sound of crickets chirping in the grass.
"Oh, god you feel so good," Anthony groaned.
"So fucking good," You panted, hips rising to match his. You were chasing something but you didn't know what. You didn't even know what was happening when your muscles started to tighten and some kind of euphoria started to crash down on you.
Anthony's breathing got caught in his throat as he watched your face contort in pleasure as he pumped himself constantly in you, trying to reach his end. He looked at your blissful face and decided that you would give him another.
"Just one more, darling, and then I can fill you up real nice." His hand went in between your legs as he watched himself move inside and out of you. His thumb began circling your clit, his cock hitting the right spots every time, his face tightening in desirable lust as he held himself above you, moving faster, trying to make you cum for a third time before he got his.
"Oh, Anthony!" You moan before he places a kiss on your lips to silence you. You cum one last time and Anthony unloads himself completely in you once bottoming out inside you. You laid there with him as he felt the aftershocks of his orgasm and you shuddered at the sudden cold.
Anthony kisses you lazily as he feels you giggle against his lips when he sighs into you. He pulls out and then shudders at the cold.
"I think we should go get some nice warm milk and sit by the fire to warm up," He proposes.
"Won't we get caught?"
"Darling, we just had sex on the dock in front of my house and you are worried about getting caught with some milk by the fire?" He laughed.
"Well, I can't be seen with you alone."
"Fine, but let's get dressed and go inside so we can sleep."
"In the same room?" You ask in a quiet voice.
"Not yet. We might get caught."
"Maybe getting caught wouldn't be so bad then," You giggle when you see his bare ass.
"Oh you are a little minx," Anthony groans.
"Maybe," You gasp when he picks you up after you get dressed and then carries you inside.
He takes you to your room and puts you down so you can stand. He doesn't want to let go but he knows he needs to leave soon.
''Good night, Miss Sharma." He said with a kiss.
"Good night, Lord Bridgerton," You sigh against his lips.
The kiss is passionate but is cut short when the clock decided to strike three and make a loud noise. You both laugh and he sees you close the door and he then walks to his chambers.
He finally can go to sleep with a smile on his face. A smile that didn't disappear the following day until he realized that he had to propose to your sister, Edwina Sharma.
#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton#bridgerton smut#anthony bridgerton smut#anthony bridgerton x sharma!reader#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton x female!reader#anthony bridgerton x reader smut#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton s2
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The stars, the moon
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
18+ MDI!
Warnings: Talk of drinking, sexist old ideas about women, talk of sex, Anthony being a cutie shhh, oral sex, penetrative sex, dirty talk, body worship (f receiving), heavy praise, lovemaking more than hardcore sex oopsies
A.N: YOU GUYS ARE SO SWEET TO ME ISTG T-T the love on my first two fics is so heartwarming. i'm so very glad you liked them both so much ^-^ Benny and Bridgerton as a whole are both so very important to me so i'm glad i did them both well. anyways my loves, this is an Anthony fic that i hope i can do as well as i did Ben. i was listening to Cosmic Love by Florence and The Machine and it gave me this idea! soooo here is an incredibly fluffy, (and smutty hehe) love filled Ant fic hehe<3 enjoy and thank you again <3 p.s that scene the gif is from sends my mind into a spiral CONSTANTLY my roman empire fr p.p.s I FINALLY GOT DIVIDERS, so now my fics will look a little cleaner i hope hehe >_<
Growing up next to the Bridgertons had been fun and eventful, to say the very least. You were there through every trial and tribulation their family had gone through, and them with yours.
You and your three sisters had always gotten along with the seven siblings. Being the youngest and most... rambunctious of them you had gotten along with Eloise and Benedict the most. They had views of marriage and duty that were similar to yours, and when you were younger you and Benedict would spend hours making doodles on the walls of the gardens at your estate.
Your sisters, who were much more of the traditional women you would often find in the ton, tended to be more akin to the eldest Bridgerton brother and sister. Daphne and Anthony, however kind and loving they both were, were always too strict or, in Daphne's case, too proper for your liking.
You had always thought of Anthony as the moon. He thrived in darkness and was often gone before you even noticed he was there. You never knew why he left balls early, or why you spotted him with that opera singer in the deepest corners of gardens or tucked away in libraries.
Until you grew up, that is. The first time you snuck out of the confines of your room was when you were ten and eight, right after the first ball of your first social season. Benedict had insisted on you sneaking out the window of your bedroom so you could tag along with him to a party a fellow artist was throwing, and you, out of pure curiosity, obliged.
You got there and had your first everything while Benedict was painting, or so he claimed, in another room. You kissed the lord, whose name you cannot remember to this day, and then you went beyond that. Sex. It was wonderful, you decided, and from then on you had much more of it.
Anthony was perceptive, he noticed the change in your behavior and one night even decided to ask Benedict about it. Benedict being Benedict told him everything in his usual carefree manner, not thinking twice about it. Anthony reacted quite strangely however, he just... turned on his heel and walked into his study, locking himself in for hours.
He avoided you at all costs from then on. It was strange, but then again, he was the moon. The moon cannot be out forever.
Anthony had always thought of you as the stars, a happy, mischievous young woman who thrived in the dark. You provided a light to every room you walked into that was too great for anyone to look away from. You were intricate, difficult to read and figure out, and yet you were also so intriguing that every man wanted to do just that.
You were also incredibly mischievous, he knew that from the moment you were born. Being eight years older, and a close family friend, Anthony was one of the first who got to meet you. You had always had that sparkle in your eye, like you were in on this grand plan that no one else was.
When you got older, it only got worse. You were constantly getting in trouble, whether that be drawing on your garden's brick walls with his brother or reading books about math or, fittingly, astronomy. Your father always described you as boyish, to which he would have to agree. You got into fencing when you were ten and two and immediately had a knack for it. When you were six and ten, you snuck off with Benedict and got taught how to hunt.
He was never attracted to your sisters as they were too... boring for his taste. They had interests in things like the latest fashion trends, or hairstyles, and he was sure that none of them had ever glanced at a book. It was quite comforting to know, that because of your foolish ways and thinking, he would never be attracted to you either. Or so he thought.
You were wearing a light blue dress when you entered your first ball, your arm tucked snugly with your father's. Your hair was pinned up more elegantly than he had ever seen it, a few of the still unruly, wavy strands fluttering in the breeze that your white fan made. Stunningly gorgeous in every way, and so ladylike. It was strange.
He had almost assured himself that he would never feel this way towards any woman like you, after all, his list of requirements for the next Viscountess was long and specific, to say the least. Yet there you were, walking towards his family, and he was very much sure he was attracted to you.
So when he noticed the jewelry you started using to hide the dark marks on your neck and the silly excuses you would use to leave balls early, it was worrying. He asked Benedict and his worst fears were made a reality, your innocence was gone. You were loose, in his mind. He could not, no would not, be attracted to a woman without her maidenhead. He refused.
The only way he could avoid that attraction was to avoid you at all costs, which is exactly what he did. He excused himself from every room you walked into, and every conversation. On the rare occasion that you somehow managed to worm yourself into a conversation with him, however, he gave short answers and cold glares.
His heart ached when he noticed your light dim after he left, but then again you were the stars. All stars have to burn out someday.
You found his insistence on completely avoiding you to be quite tiresome, after all, you considered him to be like a brother. An annoying, headstrong, arrogant, prick of a brother but a brother nonetheless.
You look over your shoulder to where he is talking to a young debutante, wishing that he would at least glance over. You would never admit it to yourself, but after his company waned you missed it quite a lot. You could talk to Benedict or Eloise, sure, but there was something about annoying Anthony that made your heart flutter and your cheeks flush.
"Miss L/N, are you listening?" The lord, who you were supposed to be listening to, asks. You quickly turn back to him and part your lips to make an excuse, but quickly think better of it. "No, my lord. I apologize, my mind seems to be running from me tonight." You mutter with a soft smile. He nods in turn before continuing to speak about his latest hunting trip, in which you have absolutely no interest.
You excuse yourself when he is done rambling and make your way toward the Viscount, wanting to finally know the real reason why he has made it his life's mission to avoid you. You wish, so desperately, to see the moon again.
He sees you coming and his heart tightens, you look as beautiful as always. You are wearing dark blue, a gorgeous dress he thinks, and your hair is done up just how he likes it. You have on gold jewelry, which sparkles in the low candlelight with every step you take.
He should talk to you, he really should, and yet he cannot bring himself to. You are not the kind of woman he wishes to make the next Viscountess, not even close to checking off any of the boxes he has on his long list for what a woman should be.
So, instead, he settles for leading the young woman he is speaking with to the dance floor. He passes you without a word but falters momentarily when he catches a whiff of your perfume. Your scent, even.
You had always smelled, however strange it might sound, so comforting. Your family's colors were a light purple, the crest having two bunches of lavender flowers on it. You smelled the part, always having some semblance of lavender to you that wafted through the room whenever you entered. It wasn't strong, no, but it was just enough to get his heart racing. It wasn't just lavender that made it so intoxicating, there was something else there. Something that he could only describe as just... you. He smiles to himself at the many fond memories that come with it.
He catches the young woman looking at him in confusion and quickly puts on a straight face, continuing to walk her to the dance floor, but not before noticing the look of despondency on your face. His heart aches, but it must be done. He could not let himself fall for you, no matter how much he longed to see the brightness of the stars again.
Your heart breaks when he walks past you with nothing but a faint semblance of a smile, and for whatever reason, you feel yourself tear up. You wonder if you had done something wrong, or said something in a passing conversation that had rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps even entertained a man he had trouble with. Whatever it was, you did not like the unfamiliar feeling his avoidance brought.
Something that you had always hidden from everyone, including yourself, was your feelings. You felt no need to be a woman who expressed love openly, nor a woman who got teary at the slightest inconvenience. It is why you liked the parties you went to, sex and alcohol were wonderful to drown out feelings that you would rather not feel. Something else you had always hidden or shoved down, was your feelings for Anthony.
He was gorgeous, that much was obvious, what with his grey eyes and his thick brown hair. The things that you didn't like, such as his ignorant views of women, or his want to always be the best, were often drowned out by the fact that the man was extremely loving and protective of those he cared about. Not only that, but he was like you in that he was truly sensitive when he did not try and shove it down. He made you want to sing his praises from every balcony in London, to profess your love in front of all of the ton so everyone could see that he was yours.
You realize you have been standing in the same spot for what has to be at least five minutes now, and that a tear that had escaped in your reminiscing has now made it down your cheek. You quickly walk out to a balcony and lean on the railing, and for once, you allow yourself to cry.
He finds you after his dance with the incredibly boring debutante he decided to occupy himself with. He didn't want to find you, but his feet automatically found themselves to you. As if something deep inside him was naturally drawn to you and your stupid free-spirited nature.
He crowds around your back. "Is everything alright?" He whispers and is completely taken aback when he sees your face. You look up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks. It was surprising to say the very least as he cannot remember the last time he saw you cry. "My God, Y/N, what happened?" He asks, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder.
"Why do you hate me?" You whisper back, and he is even more surprised than before. Hate? God he could never hate you, sure he avoided you, but he could never truly hate anything about you. No matter how much he tried.
He was just standing there like he had not been avoiding you for the past two months. Like he had not ignored your every attempt to speak with him, like he had not completely shattered your soul. It made you so angry that you could not stop the foolish words slipping past your lips.
"It is as if I have committed a cardinal sin, as if I am some heathen you cannot stand to be around and not a woman you grew up with." You say, taking a deep breath as heartbreak shifts to anger. "It is not fair. I have wracked every corner of my memory trying to figure out what I have done wrong and still, I turn up with nothing. I..." You falter and turn to look up at the stars. "You are so distant. I find myself aching without you, Anthony. Like a piece of my soul has broken off with your disappearance and is with you for eternity." You whisper, closing your eyes briefly before turning back to him.
"I ask you again, why do you hate me? What have I done?" You plead, searching his eyes for any semblance of his old self. His eyes widen in response and he takes one of your hands. "I do not hate you. God Y/N, how could I ever hate you?" He breathes and your heart flutters at the look in his eyes. As if you are the only woman on earth. He has returned back to you. The moon has risen again.
"I... I have tried to hate you, yes, but every time you are near something in me longs to touch you in ways that would make any lady blush. I hate that you make me feel this way, so foolishly in love that I can barely form a coherent thought, that the Viscount I am becomes but a memory, but I could never hate you." He confesses, bringing his hands to your waist.
Your eyes water as he continues. "You are a loose woman, or so I so foolishly tried to make myself believe. I ignorantly put that label upon you so I could have a reason to not profess from every rooftop in London how much I adore you and I can never forgive myself for it." He whispers, wiping the tears that have somehow escaped your eyes without your knowledge. "I will never be able to profess how sorry I am, but I can hope that in time you can forgive me for how foolish I have been." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.
"How long?" Is all you can manage to croak out in return to his beautiful confession, resting your hands atop his shoulders as your eyes flutter shut. "Since I was a young man, darling. Far too long I have kept it from you." He whispers back as your heart flutters at the title he has given you. "I have loved you since I was a girl." You whisper back. "So I suppose we are both fools." You grin.
He chuckles at that, his hands rubbing small patterns into the small of your back. "Always the witty one, hm? You are truly as bright and as mischievous as the stars, my love." Your heart hammers in the stars, at the way he calls you his love but even more than that, he thinks you to be the stars. "You and I have similar minds, Ant. I always thought you were like the moon, so serious and so attuned to darkness. Yet, so beautiful." You confess, opening your eyes to look into his own. Your cheeks flush at the sight that lies before you.
He is grinning, as if you had just given him the world. He leans in and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, to which you eagerly return as your eyes close and one of your gloved hands cups his cheeks. He pulls away after a moment. "The moon is nothing without the stars." He whispers, and you smile softly. "I shall ask your father for your hand come tomorrow if you let me." He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your brow.
Your heart flutters and you cup his cheeks. "I would love nothing more than to marry you, Anthony Bridgerton." You whisper and he grins, pressing his lips to yours once more. This kiss is more intense than the first, more confident as he knows that you are now officially his. You wish for nothing more than to melt into him, become his both body and mind for the rest of your days. The thought sends shivers down your spine, making your core heat up at the thought of finally sharing your most intimate self with the man who has plagued your thoughts for years.
As if reading your mind he pulls back, but only just. "Might I invite you back to my bedroom, my star?" He whispers, dipping his head down to press a kiss to your neck. You let out a shaky breath at the feeling and nod eagerly. "Please do." You whisper back and he grins, straightening back up and grabbing your hand before pulling you out to where the carriages are. Not before muttering something to Benedict, who smirks playfully and winks at the two of you in return.
One carriage ride full of open-mouthed kisses and love marks later and you are getting lifted out of the carriage and carried into the Bridgerton estate. You had so many fond memories here, you are elated that you would have the privilege of raising a family in the big estate. The thought of a family with Anthony makes your chest feel tight with emotion and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to calm yourself.
He notices the change of emotion as he carries you through the front door, ignoring the many questioning glances the both of you receive from the servants who still linger in the hallways, and kisses the top of your head. "What is it, darling?" He murmurs in your ear as he walks up the stairs, toward his bedroom.
"I am only being sensitive as I envision our future that I have for so long ached for." You whisper back, pressing a kiss to his neck to assure him that nothing is truly wrong. He groans a bit and smiles down at you as he ducks into his bedroom and places you on the bed. "It shall be a grand one. One filled with happiness and light, I assure you." He hums as he locks the door before climbing over you and peppering your face with kisses, which makes you giggle softly.
He moves his hands to your hair, taking out all of the intricately placed pins so he can see it in the state he loves the most, untamed and unruly, just like you. He runs his hands through your hair once he has it down, pressing kisses down your neck and to your collarbone which he bites. You whine softly at the feeling, but more so at the fact that you know he is going to leave marks. The thought of parading around a ball with his lovebites on your skin makes your cunt dampen and your thighs rub together in an attempt to relieve the ache that settles in your core.
He feels the movements of your body below him and groans as your knee brushes against his clothed cock accidentally, making him harden further than he already has. He continues to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as his hands move under you. He pulls you up to a sitting position and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the soft noises he draws from you as his hands move to your back to work on the buttons that hold your dress up.
His tongue slides into your mouth and he lets out a groan as he exposes your bare back, the choice you made to forgo any undergarments becoming the smartest one you made all day. He makes quick work of your dress, parting from your lips as he throws it across the room. "Christ." He growls when he sits back and gazes at your naked body.
Your nipples are peaked from both the cold air of the room and the arousal caused by the way he is gazing down at you. The look of pure desire in his eyes makes you flood down your thighs, which he picks up on instantly. He grins, almost a cocky grin, before removing his clothes from the upper half of his body.
He bends down when he is bare-chested and kisses from your collarbone, down to your right breast. He sucks on the soft skin just to the side of your hardened nipple, making your hips cant up and into his, a whine escaping your lips. He chuckles deeply and moves a hand to yours, so you can have something to hang onto, the other moving to hold your hip down.
He pulls up briefly and rests his chin on your chest, gazing up at you adoringly. "You are perfect, Y/N. Every mark, every blemish, every imperfection is so gorgeous. So perfect for me." He murmurs and you flush, squeezing his hand in yours as a silent thank you as you are unsure if you could even form a sentence now. "Mine." He murmurs with a soft smile before returning his attention to your breasts.
He takes your nipple into his mouth and you cry out at the feeling of his tongue swirling around the bud. You squeeze his hand and your back arches up into him, making him groan. He pushes you back down, all while his mouth sucks and swirls at your sensitive nipple, and rubs soothing circles on your hip with his thumb.
After a moment, he moves to your other breast, giving that one just as much attention. You whine as he bites down softly before pulling up and beginning to mark each of your breasts. He lets go of your hip and smears his hand down your thigh, gently parting your legs as he kisses down your stomach.
You gasp as he gives a kiss to your naval and look down just as he flashes a cheeky grin. He continues his trail of kisses right down to your patch of hair, your free hand grasping at the sheets while the other squeezes his. You cry out when he licks a stripe up your slit, his tongue pressing onto your swollen clit.
He takes the sensitive bud into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it slowly, his hand moving back to your hips when you whine and try to grind against him. You roll your head back, pressing it into the pillow. You get a whiff of his scent and it sends a zing of pleasure to your abused clit just as he moves his mouth down to your swollen hole to drink from you like a man starved.
You moan into his pillow, taking the fabric into your mouth and sucking as pleasure ripples through your entire body. He moves his mouth back to your clit as he pushes one of his fingers into your body, groaning at how tight you are. You cry out, the sound still muffled by his pillow, at the feeling of his finger and the vibrations his noises send through your body.
He adds another finger and begins to curl them into your walls, hitting that spongey spot that makes you scream. Your toes curl as he pumps his fingers in and out of your body in tune with the swirling of his tongue against your clit. You finally take your face out of his pillow. "Close... Fuck please please please, Anthony." You babble as you begin to see stars. You come screaming his name, his fingers gripping your hip so hard you're sure you will be marked there too.
He cleans you up with his tongue before returning to your lips and giving you a swift, but sweet, kiss on your lips. He sits up and slowly rids himself of his trousers, his cock standing proud against his stomach. The sight makes you mewl and spread your legs even wider in anticipation of him filling you until his tip meets your womb.
He settles between your legs and takes both of your hands in his, pressing his forehead to yours. "I love you, Y/N." He murmurs. "I love you, Anthony." You return, and his lips are on yours. He slowly pushes his cock into your body, groaning into your mouth as you moan into his. He bottoms out and lets you adjust, kissing down your neck to your shoulder.
You gently push your hips down as a signal that he can move, and he grins against your skin. He begins to slowly rock in and out of your body, groaning at the noises he draws from your cunt. "Faster, Ant. Please." You gust into his hair, squeezing his hands tight in your own.
He does not need to be told twice. He begins to slam into your body, making your toes curl as you scream out. He continues his brutal pace, the sound of body meeting body filling the bedroom. He presses his forehead to yours just as your eyes shut. "Look at me." He whispers, stalling for a moment. "I want to see how good I make you feel. I've waited far too long for you to hide, my love." He breathes, and you open your eyes.
He gives that stupid arrogant smirk before beginning to thrust into you just as hard as before as if he never stopped. Your mouth hangs ajar, your mind too focused on the feeling of his cock to even try and stop the moans that flow freely from your mouth.
He moves a hand down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and circling to the rhythm of his thrusts. He growls when you clench around his length and moan his name. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck. "Come with me." He whispers, biting down on the skin.
The action sends you over the edge. You come for the second time, screaming his name and he follows soon after, painting your insides with his seed. He works you through your orgasm before pulling out and nuzzling your neck.
After a moment he climbs off of you and saunters to his bathroom, leaving you dazed on the bed. You turn your head and press your face into his pillow once more, letting his scent calm you down. He returns a moment later and laughs warmly at the sight. You blush at the noise and look up at him. "Funny that," He says, gesturing to his pillow as he cleans your thighs with the washcloth he brought out. "I did the same thing today." He grins.
"Mmm. When was that, hm? Did you sneak into my bedroom?" You tease and he grins, shaking his head as he places the washcloth on the bedside and crawls into bed. "No, though I am flattered you would think I would be so bold." He hums, pulling you under the covers with him and taking you into his arms.
You smile softly and bury your face into his neck, closing your eyes. "I did it when I walked past you at the ball. The young woman I was talking to thought I went mad. I had to stop and think of all of the fond memories I have of you." He murmurs as he rests his head atop yours, kissing it softly before closing his eyes as well.
You smile softly at the thought of him stopping mid-step just to think of you. It warms your soul. "I love you." You whisper, slowly nodding off to the sound of his heartbeat.
"And I love you, my star." He whispers before following you into a deep slumber.
The moon truly cannot thrive without the stars.
#anthony bridgerton smut#fanfic#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton#bridgerton fanfic#bridgerton smut#smut#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x female reader#y/n#x y/n#x reader#reader insert#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgertonx fem!reader#18+ only#anthony bridgerton x y/n#bridgerton fic#anthony bridgerton oneshot#(?)#anthony bridgerton being a cutie pie stfu
508 notes
·
View notes
Note
This idea has been on my mind for a while… Anthony seeing you in the bridgerton blues for the first time, can either be smut or fluff :) thanks
Ahhhh I love this so much, thank you for sending it in! :)
Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader
Warnings: kissing, fluff, smut, p in v
Word Count: 1.2K
The family gathered around the room on another sweltering summer day. Hyacinth and Gregory bickered over yet another sworn tie in their endless chess matches while Eloise quietly read her book in the opposite corner. Anthony sat between his brothers, Benedict telling him of his endless tales from class among the unspoken soirees he discreetly attended from time to time and Colin of his many travels. Anthony found himself growing bored, awaiting your arrival. You were to accompany him and the rest of the Bridgertons to the races this afternoon, as it would be your first outing as a family since your marriage to the Viscount. And he could not bear to listen to another one of Benedict's tales for one more second; he needed to see you.
"Mother." Anthony stood hurriedly from the gold-trimmed sofa to approach Lady Bridgerton as she entered the room. "Where is she?"
"Now, calm down, Anthony; she is nearly ready." Lady Birdgerton assured him while straightening out his neckline to perfection. She knew Anthony's antics well enough by now to understand his growing impatience was only a product of his theatrics.
"I feel as though I have been waiting an eternity. Surely she must-" Anthony made his way past his mother and into the hallway, his words stammered as soon as his eyes landed on you. You'd been making your way to the main room when he appeared in your path, a smile gracing both your lips. There was no word in the English language to describe how beautiful you looked. The most impeccable dress draped over every curve in a more delicate shade of blue than he wore but complimented his outerwear perfectly. Warmth blossomed in Anthony’s chest at the sight of you in that color. His color. He never thought he'd see the day when the one he loved, the one his heart eternally yearned for, would wear the color that meant so much to him and his family. He would never tire of how easily you overpowered him whenever he was in your presence.
"Do I look alright?" You nervously patted your skirt, ensuring everything was as it should be. Hesitation apparent in your tone as you approached him.
"Alright?" Anthony's eyes widened as he took your hands in his. He couldn't believe you would use a modest word such as 'alright' to describe how exquisite you looked right now. "My love, you look…absolutely stunning. Beyond words, truly." Heat filled your face, and your stomach fluttered at his flattery. Anthony had a way of making you feel as though you two were the only person on the face of the earth, easily melting under his gaze. It was an exquisite feeling you wished to relish in forever. Anthony glanced around and took advantage of the privacy to steal a kiss. His lips were warm and soft against your own. They parted slightly, allowing you to move more passionately as your hunger for one another became apparent in mere seconds. It shouldn't be surprising, seeing as you and your husband could hardly keep your hands off each other since your wedding night. The moment grew heated with every swipe of his tongue, hands caressing the soft flesh of your waist and hips hidden beneath the restricting fabric of your dress.
"Mother!" Anthony reluctantly pulled away, panting, and shouted. "Go ahead without us. We will join you shortly, as promised." Without so much as a second thought or a response from anyone, he whisked you away toward a nearby closet in a closed-off hallway he was sure no one wandered by.
"Anthony, what are you doing? The races are starting soon." You protested before he cut you off with another chaste kiss and shut the door behind him.
"We will join them in a moment. I must have you right now." The passion flowed through his words, making you squeeze your thighs together in anticipation and a chuckle escape you. He pulled you close, continuing his ministrations. His lips scattered kisses along your neckline and down to your chest as your hands tangled in his hair. His hands worked tirelessly to remove as many barriers between your bodies as quickly as possible as he gently guided you to lean on the wall behind you. Your dress was bunched up toward you as Anthony hastily removed his trousers just to his upper thigh. You panted under him, his lips never leaving your skin, leaving a trail of marks and bruises as a reminder of his love for you.
"Seeing you in our family color," Anthony spoke between kisses. "You are so beautiful." He was rambling as he often did when he was this worked up. The way you looked, how your body responded to his every touch. Every beautiful sound he was able to pull from you, it drove him mad. He couldn't take it anymore; he had to have you now. Anthony abruptly lifted and pressed you against the wall, your fingers tugging at his hair and desperately nipping at his lower lip, pulling an animalistic groan from his chest.
"Anthony, please." You practically whimpered when you felt his cock prod at your entrance, clenching around nothing as the tip slid over your sensitive clit. He lined himself up and pressed his lips against yours to swallow any sounds you made as he gently pushed inside you. You moaned into each other in unison, and he waited, letting you settle as you nodded for him to move. Anthony began to plunge into you, easily slipping through your folds, feeling your warm cunt swallow him whole. He cupped your breast over the fabric of your dress, kneading it in his hands while breathing heavily as he bottomed out inside of you, holding you there for a moment, reveling in how impossibly soft and warm you felt around him as low whimpers escaped you.
A low grunt rumbled from his chest when he felt you fluttering around him. His hand outlined from the swell of your breasts all the way down beneath your hips, memorizing every curve, feeling the way your chest was rising and falling with every breath of pleasure that surged through you; even the way your hips instinctively moved to meet his own drove him insane. Anthony craved and wanted nothing more than to be close to you; even being inside you now, it was never close enough for him. He began to stroke your clit, already aching for attention. Your bodies rocked in sync with one another, desperate for relief. Anthony felt you whine quietly as your orgasm crashed into you. Waves of heat overwhelmed your body as you pulsed on his cock, pulling Anthony to spill himself inside of you.
Anthony pulled away from you after a moment of stolen kisses and delicate touches. He made sure you were settled on the ground and took the time to adjust himself. Moving quickly to assist you in fixing your dress and ensuring everything else was in order before opening the door to confirm no one was outside and stepping out of the closet. You may have missed the race's first leg, but with the knowing smirks and blissed-out looks on both your faces, it was well worth it.
Tag List: @bugnug @queenofmean14 (let me know if you would like to added here or dm me if you’d like to be removed)
I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission
#bridgerton#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton fluff#anthony bridgerton smut#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton x y/n#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton one shot#anthony bridgerton angst#bridgerton netflix#lady bridgerton#viscount bridgerton
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Reunion Of Sorts-Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader
(GIF credit to @mrsbridgerton)
Requested by anonymous: ‘Hi! If your requests are open I'd love to request an Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader where the reader's Simon's sister. Prompts 14 and 15 please? Thank you so much, your works are amazing!’
14) 'It's only good news depending on how you look at it.'
15) 'I just wouldn't have expected this!'
Characters: Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader, Simon Basset x Basset!Reader (siblings), Daphne Bridgerton x Reader (platonic), mentions of Bridgerton family
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
Warnings: Just extreme fluff!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Are you quite alright, (Y/N)?" Simon asked his sister as they journeyed in their carriage.
(Y/N) had started fanning herself a little faster."I don't know why I'm so nervous. I just hope to make a good impression."
"Of course you will. I'm sorry you haven't met them sooner."
"I could have at least met your wife at the wedding, if I had been invited."
"We have been through this, (Y/N)."
"Yes, and I'm not trying to argue with you, Simon. I know you married in haste, and I know why, but you must admit, you've left this far too long. You have a son now!"
"You have been cooped up in that house with your matron as father intended. I think she would have had my head if I tried to get you out of there."
They laughed together.
"Simon?"
"Hm?"
"I am very excited to meet your wife and my nephew."
As usual, the Bridgerton house was abuzz with excitement and chaos. Eloise didn't understand why she had to dress up so much for this visit, Gregory and Hyacinth were bombarding everyone with questions about Simon's sister, Colin and Benedict tried but failed to escape the madness, Anthony watched everything unfold and Daphne nervously bounced her baby boy on her knee.
"Daphne, do not fret. His sister will love you." Anthony tried to reassure his sister.
"What if she's like their father? What if she heard all the rumours about us and judges me for it? Simon has never spoken of her, I have no idea what to expect."
"I met Simon's sister many, many years ago. She was nothing like the things you are dreading. (Y/N) was a lovely, respectable young lady, I'm sure she hasn't changed."
Daphne let a small smile grace her face, trying to convince herself that everything was fine. Simon had kept his family such a secret, she just wanted to ensure that his sister would want to stay and be part of theirs.
Simon playfully rolled his eyes as (Y/N) asked how she looked, not in vain, but in anxiety. Her dress was beautiful, her hair perfectly in place, her jewels glistened but they weren't ghastly, nothing was wrong. Her nerves were getting the better of her. Just as she was about to ask again, the carriage stopped. Simon chuckled at her panicked look, already stepping outside.
He held out his hand for her."You'll be absolutely fine. Just be you."
(Y/N) took a deep breath before taking her brother's hand, being extra cautious to not fall on her face, especially since the entire Bridgerton family were stood on their front steps.
As head of the household, Anthony was ready to start introductions, until (Y/N) lifted her head, showing her dazzling features. He had only admitted to himself that he had a fancy for her when he was younger, though who wouldn't? She was beautiful, smart and didn't try hard to impress anyone; she was just joyful to be around. (Y/N) had never pined for Anthony or tried to grab his attention at every moment, or any man for that matter. He definitely considered her a friend, he was somewhat angry at himself he hadn't written to her over the years. But seeing her now, it was a mystery as to why she hadn't been married yet? That was quickly solved when he remembered Simon was her brother.
Simon stuck beside his sister until Daphne stepped forward. They shared a short but loving kiss, before Simon took their son into his arms, cooing and laughing as the baby gurgled. (Y/N)'s heart melted at the sight.
"Oh, how we've missed you." Violet beamed, greeting her son-in-law.
"I apologise for the delay, the weather was not suitable for travelling. Nevertheless, everyone, this is my sister, (Y/N) Basset."
(Y/N) curtsied as all eyes were on her."Thank you for welcoming me into your beautiful home. I have been so excited to meet you all."
"Well, why don't we go inside? We can have proper introductions in the warm." Daphne hid her nerves, presenting herself well.
Everyone agreed, leading (Y/N) inside. The family lined up like soldiers, with Anthony stepping forward to introduce everyone.
"I hope I don't have to reintroduce myself." he teased.
"Of course not, how could I forget you, Anthony? After all the trouble you and Simon got into?"
He chuckled, but cast a worried look towards his mother. He quickly continued.
"My mother, Violet, sisters Daphne, Eloise and Hyacinth, and my brothers, Benedict, Colin and Gregory."
"And your nephew." Simon added.
(Y/N) reached out a finger for the baby to hold."Yes, he's bigger than I thought he would be."
"Children do grow so fast." Violet said.
"But you're here now to see him grow." Daphne quickly added. "And we're all very happy that you're finally here."
Everyone knew that it was Simon who had kept (Y/N) away. He loved his sister with all his heart, which is why he never saw her; she was living a happy life, he didn't want to dampen that.
"The chefs have prepared a marvelous lunch. The table is all set if you are hungry now?" Voilet asked.
"Oh, yes, as long as everyone else is."
As soon as (Y/N) agreed, Colin, Eloise and the two youngest were off. They were starving, even though they had eaten only a few hours ago. (Y/N) giggled to the relief of the others. They slowly followed behind, but Simon was hesitant. (Y/N) gently nudged him forward.
"Go, see your family. I have all the time in the world to get to know Daphne."
Simon thanked her, still carrying his son as his other arm wrapped around his wife. Another arm appeared in front of (Y/N), ready for her to take it.
"May I escort you to the table?" Anthony said.
"Thank you, I much appreciate it."
They both knew they were being dramatic, though it was sweet of Anthony to make the gesture.
"How many years has it been?"
"Too many."
"I'm sorry your brother hasn't involved you. If the...situation between him and Daphne had been different, I know you would have been here straight away."
"I know. And I understand how stressful that all was. But as said before, I'm here now. I must say Anthony, I have missed you."
"Really? Even after all those times Simon and I riled you?"
"Yes. Although annoying, you both had your tender moments. I remember one evening, you and Simon were returning from your club, and you both had found yourselves in a quarrel with some other members. They followed you home, and I was waiting by the back gate to sneak you back inside. They were closer than expected, and do you remember some of the horrible things they said to me?"
"Unfortunately I do. And I unfortunately remember what happened next."
"It was very chivalrous for you to defend me, though you needn't have fought. Your nose wouldn't stop bleeding!"
"But you were right by my side, holding a handkerchief for me."
"Yes, because if you got blood on the carpets, you would have something worse than a bruised nose."
The pair were laughing to themselves as they walked into the dining room. Most were already seated. Anthony guided (Y/N) to her chair, next to Simon, who stood to tuck it in, but Anthony beat him to it. Simon watched his friend's moves very closely, knowing deep down that Anthony was just being polite; however, he wasn't too fond that they were sat opposite each other, able to gaze into each others eyes.
Simon tapped his glass with a knife once everyone was sat, standing with said glass in his hand."Before we begin eating, I would like to propose a toast."
Everyone immediately grabbed their own glasses, except Eloise, taking her time as she huffed; couldn't they at least toast after the meal?
"To my sister, (Y/N). I am so happy that you're here with me, with us. I'm sorry I haven't been a better brother but that will change now. And I can't wait for you to get to know this loving family, who made me one of their own, as I know they will you."
"To family." Benedict finished.
"To family." Everyone cheered.
"Now the food. Please." Eloise needed a plate in front of her.
All through lunch, Simon kept a close eye on his sister and Anthony. He was awful at keeping up with conversations, slow at eating, he just had a weird feeling when he glanced at them both. Simon constantly apologised to Daphne, blaming the long journey for his daydreaming.
However, Anthony and (Y/N) might as well have been dining at their own table. They were in full conversation, of course others chimed in to join, but they couldn't stop reflecting on the past and laughing. It was impossible to not notice how well they were getting along, and Violet had a glint in her eye as she saw how much Anthony was smiling. He never smiled this much, and the way he was looking at (Y/N) reminded her of how her husband used to look at her.
After dinner, they retired to the drawing room, sipping on fresh lemonade as Hyacinth showed off her new skill on the piano. Simon sat with his child in his lap, Daphne by his side, and although he was thoroughly enjoying the time with his family, he couldn't stop gazing over at his sister.
Unsurprisingly, (Y/N) and Anthony were cosied up, still smiling ear to ear as they continued talking. How could they have so much to talk about?
"Let's put him to bed Simon, for a nap. He's getting fussy." Daphne interrupted his thoughts.
Simon didn't want to cause a scene, agreeing to put their son down together. Even as they left the room, Simon's eyes lingered, and he immediately became tense once they were out of sight.
"Has my brother dazzled you?"
Simon was quiet as he laid down his son."Hm?"
"Well you haven't stopped staring at him all night."
He sighed."Was I that obvious?"
"You were indeed. Would it be so bad?"
"What?"
"Would it be so bad if my brother loved your sister?"
"Daphne-"
"Has he been disrespectful? Has he done her wrong? Has he done anything that we did?"
He was stumped. Although his brotherly instincts were kicking in, wanting to protect (Y/N), realistically he knew Anthony would never hurt her. Anthony was trustworthy, he knew him inside out and just from tonight, there was something there.
Simon didn't reply, but Daphne knew he wasn't ignoring her. She could see him thinking it all over as he walked to the window.
"It's only good news depending on how you look at it."
"I know, but it will be fine-"
"No, look!"
Daphne quickly joined her husband at the window, trying to see what he was looking at. Down in the gardens was Anthony and (Y/N) taking a stroll. The pair were lit by the setting sun which was casting a beautiful orange and pink glow across the garden. Although they had not stopped talking through the afternoon, now they were silent, both silently worrying that the other had no more to say.
"(Y/N)-"
"Anthony-"
The spoke at the same time, pausing for a moment before laughing. Anthony said nothing, being a gentleman and letting (Y/N) speak.
"I was just going to say how much I have enjoyed our time together. It feels as if no time has passed since the last time I saw you."
"How long will you stay?"
"Sorry?"
"Well, are you staying for a short visit? Or perhaps an extended time?"
"Simon and I have not discussed that as of yet. I am to be staying with a friend of mine who lives in the Ton, so I shall be here for a little while."
Anthony couldn't help but smile."Good, that is good news."
They were quiet again as they continued walking, only taking small steps as they wee nearing the end of the garden. They were standing close to one another, and although they had linked arms before and been sat on the plush sofas, this held more tension. Perhaps it was the way neither of them wanted to startle the other, despite their desperate want for affection. As their minds drifted off to where this was leading, their hands ever so delicately brushed. Both were startled, halting their steps and looking at each other.
"My apologies-"
"Anthony, it's fine. I...I just wouldn't have expected this."
Anthony thought for a moment, glancing down at their hands that were no longer close. He didn't like it. He wanted to be bold and take the next step, even if it was just holding one another's hand. But this was Simon Basset's sister. And it was (Y/N), who he had the upmost respect for.
"Miss Basset?"
"Anthony, why are you calling me that?"
"May I enquire into the address of your new lodgings?"
"Yes? Why?"
"So that I may call on you in the morning?"
#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton imagines#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton one shot#anthony bridgerton fanfic#anthony bridgerton fan fic#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton fan fiction#bridgerton#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton imagines#bridgerton one shot#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton fanfic#bridgerton fan fic#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton fan fiction
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
How about a request where Anthony is head over heels for the reader because of her motherly nature. First, he sees how she would play with Daphne’s son, and he just feels how great it’s like to be taken care of (like the reader would take care of him when he’s sick and help him with all the family duties) since all this time he took care of his siblings. The Bridgertons (and Simon) sees how in love Anthony is with the reader and they help with the proposal plan.
falling for ya | a.b
pairing: anthony bridgerton x gn!reader
warnings: none just fluff
word count: 1.2k
a/n: this has took me an embarrassing amount of time to get to but here it is! Anthony being an idiot in love
The season was over and you had been invited to the Bridgerton country home, Aubrey Hall. At this time in the year it was just the family and close friends. Eloise had invited her close friend, Penelope Featherington. Your invite had come from Benedict, you had met him at the Royal Academy of Art and became fast friends.
Of course you knew that his and your own families wished for an offer, your own mama was sure you’d come home with such news but it wouldn’t happen. He was a friend and nothing more. Besides, you were in love with his older brother.
Over the course of your friendship, you had also grown closer to the other Brigerton siblings, and their own children.
Small giggled laugher followed you, as you ran across the lawn, you turned seeing two small Bassett children running after you on small chubby legs, both holding small play swords.
“You’ll never catch me” You declared, waving your own sword in the air.
The laughing increased, as they hit back.
You gave a cry of dismay and carried on running, over by the house, under the refreshment tent, the older siblings sat, the children were off begging Violet for something sweet.
“They’re quite good with them, don't you think?” Daphne asked the others, Simon gave an agreeable nod. Benedict and Colin were too busy in an argument over something unimportant, Eloise and Penelope were discussing the latest Lady Whistledown.
Anthony though was watching with alarming personal interest, he had never seen you in this light before, you were Benedict’s art friend. Always off with him painting or looking at paintings or discussing paintings.
Then he saw himself as a young boy, playing with his siblings when he carried the weight of everything on him. He had never blamed them for that, he loved his family with all his heart. But he couldn’t deny how he’d like to be taken care of for once.
For the first time, he longed to fall ill, nothing series of course, just a head cold or something like that. Where you would sit by his bedside, reading to him and holding a cold cloth to his head. Maybe you’d sit by his bed and draw.
Just this morning, very early in the morning, he had left the house to have a walk through the gardens and had found you sitting on the wet grass, in your dressing gown and slippers. Coloured pencil spread across the ground around you, on your lap the most beautiful sunrise he had ever seen.
Anthony felt a blush spread across his neck.
The day he had first met you, you had been a bundle of nerves. Meeting his family had been the easy part but the head of the household, meant moving up. He had made some comment or joke over dinner and you laughed and laughed.
And then there was that time, he had run into you in the park.
With a cousin, the second you spotted him you beelined for him, leaving your poor cousin to tail behind.
Then at the last ball of the season, his mother had made him dance with you, he believed your mother did the same to you. The whole dance you played a game where he and you would guess what the other couples were discussing and the way you smiled when you had made him laugh.
By god he loved you, he, Anthony Bridgerton, he who swore he’d never love, had fallen in love with you.
“I give in, I give in” you exhaled, dropping the sword, the children giggled, you picked up a glass of lemonade, “God they can run fast on those little legs”.
The others laughed, Simon seemed to straighten his back with pride, Daphne was looking at Anthony smirking. Someone at the house called your name, “Dear, a letter for you has just arrived”
“It will be from my mama” you roll your eyes, “Better hurry and write something back”. You left the group and thanked Violet.
The second you had entered the house, Daphne grabbed her brother so fast he jumped, “You’re in love with them, aren’t you! I knew it”.
Anthony blushed harder, failing to speak, Colin and Benedict looked uninterested. Then Anthony realised he was the last to know. Each one of his siblings knew and just didn’t care enough to tell him.
After afternoon tea you had found the most puzzling note, attached to your door. Asking you to meet someone in the gardens.
Across the grass was a blanket and two drawing pads, “Hello?” you called out. As you walked closer you found Anthony waiting, “Anthony?” you asked, kneeling to sit beside him, “What is this?”.
He smiled, handing you a pad and some pencils, “Let’s call it a private art lesson”.
“Why not ask your brother?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Don’t tell him I said this but you’re the better artist”.
A warm feeling spread across your face and down your neck, you flipped open the pad, “Well draw something and we’ll see what needs work”.
You looked up from your drawing, Anthony was frowning, the pencil working hard, it was sweet you had to admit.
“No no its…..” you gave up, you think he tried to draw a flower, “It’s a start” you smiled.
“What did you draw?” he asked.
Damn
You hadn’t planned on showing him, you didn’t plan on showing everyone, but he was looking at you and waiting and it just felt rude not to. Slowly and feeling more heat all over, you turned the pad around.
“Is that me?” he asked.
You closed the pad hard, “It means nothing.. You were there and- I” you couldn’t find the right words and felt more flushed as you went on.
“It’s beautiful, you’re beautiful”
Your mouth dropped open.
“I know this may seem like it’s coming out of nowhere but I didn’t know how I felt until now. You see I have felt something for you ever since you laughed at my joke during the first dinner, and then today when I saw you playing with Daphens children it made me see things for how they really are”
Your mouth was still open, his words coming as a complete shock but not unwanted. He was everything you could want, he made you laugh, he talked with you with real interest not the half listening other men did, he was an amazing dancer and now this, trying to do something you loved.
His art was poor but still he had tried for this moment.
He said your name and you swore your heart skipped. “I- I did not mean to overstep”
“Anthony” you smiled.
He looked hopeful, “yes?”.
“I think I should be the one saying that” you said, unable to stop grinning.
“Yes?”.
“Yes!”
You leaped into his arms, he caught you right away.
Without a second thought you kissed him, falling deeper into love with him.
After the kiss and the ones that followed, you lay in his arms.
“We’ll have to thank everyone, they helped set this up” Anthony said.
“Benedict will call himself cupid until the end of time” you laughed.
Anthony linked his hand with yours, “As long as I’m with you, I can face my brother”.
#bridgerton#anthony bridgerton#Anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x gn reader#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony fanfic#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton fanfic#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x gn reader#gn reader#fluff
687 notes
·
View notes
Text
Still Going (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader)
Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader
Rated/warnings: T - suggestiveness, language, panic attack, feels
Word count: 1.4k
Summary: A meaningful moment with your new husband.
Author's Note: This is just a lil idea that popped into my head last night. Inspired by just wanting to hug the sad!Anthony from one of @fayes-fics stories. Thank you to @colettebronte for helping me pin down the right moment for the header. 💙
Months into your marriage and your husband still left you numb with pleasure each and every night as you tumbled with one another across your bed. Two things had become abundantly clear to you soon after marrying Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. First was the reason unmarried young ladies were not allowed in private company with young gentlemen, particularly of the rakish variety. And second was that you were one of the lucky ones who did not view cavorting with your husband as some sort of grueling, customary duty for the sole purpose of conceiving children. No indeed, it was proving to be the highlight of your life together as he unlocked unimaginable sensations within your body that left your mind soaring even as you lay limp and panting in his arms.
It was in just such a moment on a still summer night at Bridgerton House that you both collapsed back into the pillows together, spent and euphoric from your lovemaking. You chuckled, nuzzling in close to Anthony’s side as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. You were fuzzy, lapsing into welcome sleep when he leaned away to reach for something on his nightstand. Then you heard the small clatter, immediately followed by his hissing curses.
“Dammit! No…” He rolled away from you, sitting on the edge of the bed as his voice rose in volume. “No, no, no. Fuck!”
Your eyes flew open to see his broad back hunched over, clutching something in his hands. You gathered the sheet around yourself and shifted to sit behind him. “Anthony? What’s wrong?”
In the low moonlight from the windows you could see he cradled his pocket watch in his palm, a splintering crack now etched across its face. His shoulders were beginning to heave, his breath growing short as he stared at it, transfixed. “It broke…” he croaked. “It…it just fell. I’ve dropped it before, but it broke and I…” He was gasping now, fighting for air like a drowning man as his eyes darted and his hands began to shake.
You had seen this before, one of his spells when fear and overwhelm consumed him. It had happened when his youngest sister had broken her leg during childish roughhousing, again when his brother had received an innocuous bee sting, and again when you had come down with a nasty but passing fever after your honeymoon. Every time someone he loved found themselves in harm’s way he was liable to lose control of his faculties, only temporarily, as his mind spun toward the worst possible conclusions. You knew why he suffered this way and didn’t judge him for a moment. Instead, you had committed yourself to bolstering him through the storms, learning techniques that helped call him back to himself.
You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and felt how he trembled.
He continued mumbling to himself, eyes locked on the watch, each word rasping. “It broke…I can’t…what do I…”
“Anthony?” You kept your voice clear and steady. “Anthony, look at me.”
He turned and you were nearly undone by the anguish you found in his eyes. You brought a hand to his cheek and pressed your foreheads together, his frantic exhales gusting across your skin. “My love, it’s alright.” You soothed, stroking his face and running your fingertips into his hair, imploring him to hear you. “You must control your breath. Anthony, follow me.” Reverting to what had worked before, you took his hand and gently guided it to press flat over your heart. You did the same, bringing a hand to rest on his heaving chest so that you mirrored one another. Tears threatened to form at the terrified pounding you felt under your fingertips, something so vulnerable within your husband who was otherwise a pillar of strength.
He was still panicked, nearly vibrating against you as he choked for air, but you kept your breath slow and deliberate, leading him out of the tempest with something solid and rhythmic. After a few moments he fell in sync with you, shuddering inhales that struggled to pace with your own, and desperate exhales as he released the disquiet that surged through him. His pulse began to slow, ever so gradually, and you felt the tension begin to melt out of his frame. He still clutched the watch tightly in his free hand, but the one against your skin grew soft and warm again as he regained himself.
“That’s it. Very good. Everything will be alright.” You cooed, running your thumb over his cheek. You hated that he was faced with such demons and were grateful that your methods of combatting them seemed effective. Anthony sagged against you, starting to breathe through his nose as he settled back into equilibrium. He was always exhausted after his episodes.
“Let me see.” You dropped your hands and gently pried the pocket watch out of his, inspecting it. As far as you could tell the damage was only superficial. Just a fracture in the glass but the mechanism was still ticking. “We can get this repaired.” You reassured him.
He looked back at you, eyes huge and pleading. “It was my father’s watch.”
This was a fact you knew well, with Anthony himself having told you many times before. It wasn’t that he thought you ignorant, it was the anxiety of the moment speaking for him.
“I know, my love.” You nodded. “It is precious. But it is not broken. It’s only the glass that is cracked, see? It’s still going.” You held the timepiece next to his ear so that he could hear its steady ticking for himself. Undeniable relief lit across his face as he let out a shaking exhale, inclining himself to listen more closely. The tempo of the watch gears proved as soothing to him as the beating of your heart. You smiled, knowing the worst was behind you. “First thing tomorrow, I’ll take it to the jeweler and have the glass replaced.”
Closing his eyes for a moment, Anthony nodded. Then he turned to kiss your wrist and place the watch safely in the drawer of his nightstand. Sliding back into the center of the bed, he wrapped you in his arms and burrowed down into the sheets, breathing deep into your hair as he pressed you to his warm, naked torso. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’m sorry you have such a fool for a husband.”
You pouted. “Why would you say he is foolish?”
“Because he goes to pieces over something as silly as a broken watch.”
“I don’t think it’s silly.” You stretched an arm across his chest, tucking your head under his chin. “I think it speaks to how deeply he cares for his family. How much he honors his father’s memory, like a true gentleman.”
“Mmm. True gentlemen should not fall prey to such reckless displays of emotion.” He fell back into his Viscount’s tone, bitter and exacting. His censure in that voice was cutting to anyone but most of all to himself. His brutal self criticism had nearly come in the way of your betrothal, and it was something you were actively encouraging him to reduce. Particularly in this matter where he was so obviously not at fault, you would not allow him to chastise himself. You saw things from another perspective entirely.
After a moment, you spoke softly. “I think it may be your heart’s way of asking to be heard.”
Anthony scoffed. “You think I have one?” Not the reaction you wanted, but perhaps the one you should have expected.
You pulled back to meet his eyes, arms still banded tightly around one another. When you looked at your husband, the most handsome man you had ever seen, the man who had fought for your affections and filled your life with wonder every day since he had won them, you felt nothing but certainty.
“I know you do. I have seen it.”
His features softened, brows turning up as his warm eyes grew misty. With the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, he lovingly brushed a hand along your cheek. “You have seen it?”
“Yes, and in time you will see it too.” You smiled and leaned up into his gentle kiss then returned to lay your head on his chest, trailing your fingers languidly through the dark hairs found there. “I would not have married you if you did not possess one. It is nothing to be ashamed of, Anthony.” You curled more tightly against him, pressing your ear down until you could hear the proof of it. The heart that you loved so dearly, the one bound to your own, now returned to its strong and constant cadence.
“It is beautiful. It may have some cracks, but it is still going.”
Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky
#bridgerton#bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x y/n#bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton x y/n#anthony bridgerton imagine#female reader#fluff and feels#romance#regency romance
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
MELT AWAY
⇢ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; the night you give your love and body to your husband.
⇢ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
⇢ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff + smut (best friends to lovers)
⇢ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔/𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔: loss of virginity, multiple orgasms, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, soft!dom Anthony & sub reader, missionary, doggy style, hair pulling, dirty talk. Anthony has a big dick idk if this should be tagged but... yeah. he also gets off to the fact that the reader is smaller/less tall than him. lots of overstimulation, morning sex. soft/rough sex. praise kink. lots of pet names. daddy kink.
⇢ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 10,4K (yes I’m insane)
⇢ 𝒂/𝒏: can’t believe that I’ve deleted my blog when this post was at 4K notes 😭 but yeah I’m reposting it, so if you recognise it. yes it’s from me! pls show it some love again! 🫶 can also be found on my ao3 here!
⇢ I don’t want minors to interact with any of my mature posts! thank you very much! 18+ only!
You never thought that Anthony would be the one you’d grow closest to, considering he’s a couple of years older than you. You’d think Daphne or Eloise would be your best friend. While you’re close to every Bridgerton, nothing could ever be as strong as your bond with the Viscount. It’s funny, you think, how life can bring you things and people you didn’t know you needed. People like Anthony, who became so important, it makes you question how you’ve spent your life so long without them.
But your feelings for the Viscount blossomed into something more than platonic after only a few months of knowing him.
You both fell in love with each other, fast and hard. Anthony was the first person you’ve ever fallen in love with. Whenever he would look at you or say your name or talk to you, your stomach would erupt with butterflies. You’ve never had any strong feelings for anyone before him and you knew he'd always be the one to be on your mind at all times.
Anthony was there for everything, he’d seen you grow older, he was there when you learned how to dance, or how Benedict taught you everything he knew about art, over the years he saw you become an even more beautiful woman. He was there when you debuted into society, he was there when multiple men tried to court you only for him to be overprotective and tell you they would never be good enough.
You never understood why he’d be so overprotective, but you’d be lying if you said you hated it. You’d always welcome any type of attention or care you received from him.
The Viscount has always loved and cared for you even before he could name the feelings he has for you.
He can speak about every inside joke you both have, tell everyone what your favourite colours are - because yes, you didn’t have just one favourite colour, he knows all your favourite books, knows how much you loved stargazing. He knows your favourite flowers. He knows that you’re very sensitive and have some occasional sensory issues.
He knows how much you love the arts and that you have a soft spot for animals and children. You love creating art yourself. He knows how you love with your whole heart, or hate something like your life depends on it. You like to read books during your free time, getting lost between the pages. Just like his sister Eloise. You love sunsets and sunrises, even if you’re not really a morning person.
Anthony likes to think that he knows everything about you. Except he was pretty oblivious to your feelings you had for him for many years.
Everyone knew about your feelings for each other, for so long, except for yourselves.
Until one evening, when Anthony once again refused you to accept a courtship from a potential suitor. Telling you once again that no one is ever good enough for you. That evening something snapped inside you, with tears in your eyes you asked him if there’s something wrong with you. You truly thought that one day he’d care for you too but to you he seemed like he only saw you as one of his sisters.
Or so you thought.
That evening he confessed how much he cares for you, how you’re always the one that’s on his mind. How you’re the only one he wants but couldn’t seem to admit it to himself and his family for so long. He said that the reason he kept telling you no one would be good enough for you, is because he wants to be the one to marry you. He told you how much he loves you with so much emotion that you were too stunned to speak for a while.
With tears in your eyes you eventually explained to him how much he means to you and how you’ve loved him since the first time you both met. Soon enough he enveloped you and kissed you with so much passion that every time you think about it, chills go down your spine.
Nostalgia cascades through you as you continue thinking about your relationship with Anthony. You’ve lived twenty-five years, and throughout the vast majority of it - the Viscount has been your only constant.
You always knew that Anthony would be the one for you. But being married to your best friend is truly something that you never thought would happen. For so long you thought that it would only stay in your fantasies, yet here you are on your bed on your wedding night, daydreaming about your husband.
Sighing, you pull your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your knees and stare at the lit fireplace in front of you.
A small shy smile plays on your lips as your thoughts continue to drift towards your husband.
You’re all alone in your newly shared bedroom when you finally notice how much you’re sweating and heating up. All that dreaming about Anthony made you nervous and warm. You know he’ll join you in your bedroom soon and knowing this makes you blush harder. It’s your wedding night, the night that would change everything forever.
Why are you so hot all over? It’s so silly, you feel extremely feverish, and your heart can’t find peace and quiet, nor can your trembling limbs.
You’re warm. Tingling, like anticipation but threaded into your nerves, and heat. And you feel your body throbbing, all at once, whenever you think of Anthony.
“God,” you whimper as your thoughts keep wandering towards him and what you would do tonight.
You’re biting your lip nervously as you continue to stare off into the fireplace, until you hear the door creak open, revealing the man of your dreams leaning against the doorway.
It still feels so surreal that you’re both able to say that you belong to each other now. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how good he looks, how beautiful his heart is and how caring and loving he is.
He’s smiling as he takes you in, you’re wearing one of your night gowns that were specifically made for your honeymoon nights. His eyes continue to stare at you as you feel yourself grow even more nervous. The warmth inside you continues to rise, your cheeks becoming more hot as you look at him.
“My dear wife,” he says softly, his voice low. You start biting your bottom lip once again and his smile grows as he notices you becoming more shy at his words.
Slowly, he pulls himself away from the doorway and makes his way towards you. You gulp as you notice several buttons being undone from his shirt, showing you some skin. Heat travels to your cheeks once again once you realise you’re staring. You quickly try to avert your eyes from him but it is useless once he stands in front of you.
You could feel one of his hands reaching up to cup your face, tilting it towards his, making you look up into his eyes. The way his brown gentle eyes look into yours make you feel all hot over again. You would get lost into them forever if you could.
“It’s okay to stare, I’m all yours now.” He whispers with a small teasing smile. “You’re so beautiful.” He says as he caresses your face with fondness.
You feel yourself blush at his words, you lick your lips before clearing your throat. “You’re not so bad yourself.” You say with a shy smile.
He chuckles softly as he reciprocates your smile. His eyes continue to gaze into yours before his eyes move to your lips.
Your eyes widen slightly as your eyes catch his. “I think you’re beautiful too, the most handsome man that I’ve ever seen…” you whisper shyly. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his thumb trace your lips softly.
“Do I make you nervous, my love?” He asks teasingly as he leans his head down. He brushes his nose against yours gently before he grabs your face in both of his hands.
“I-I guess you do.” You answer softly.
“Why is that?” Anthony leans closer to your face. You can feel his breath on your lips, his nose touching yours once again.
You can feel your heart beating like crazy, feeling butterflies in your stomach. You wonder if he can hear your loud heartbeat as well. Your mouth feels extremely dry still you tried to swallow “It’s because,” your eyes shift from his eyes to his lips constantly “I-it’s our first night together…”
And with less hesitation and more neediness than you were expecting, Anthony’s lips are on yours. Your bottom lip slots between his while his hand moves to your jaw where he brushes his thumb against it delicately.
All your thoughts overwhelm your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what is going on. Eventually you lean closer against him and you move your hands around his shoulders as you kiss him back.
Anthony sucks lightly on your lips and then he slowly pulls away from your lips to kiss your cheek. His lips travel all over your face and neck. You whimper as his mouth presses kisses all over your neck, your hands travelling to his hair and tugging lightly.
“I have been thinking about this moment for so long.” He rasps, kissing your throat softly. Your body trembles against his as he continues to cover your face and neck with kisses.
Your brain is all over the place, eyes heavy and clouded as you try to tell him how much you’ve been wanting him. “I have as well.” You finally whisper.
“How long have you wanted this?” Anthony whispers against your skin.
He groans and stops kissing you when you don’t reply to his question yet. Anthony stares at you, waiting for you to reply. Not realising your eyes were closed, you slowly open your eyes, looking straight into his eyes.
You swallow dry at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushes to your cheeks as you decide to tell him the actual truth, too anxious to even try and lie to your husband when he is looking at you like that. Like he’s about to devour you.
“Four years?” you answer, hesitant eyes jumping between his. “Ever since you told me about pleasure in the first place—”
Anthony groans and almost jumps at your lips. Kissing you full of passion, with everything that he can offer. You feel his tongue tracing your lips slowly. Knowing what he wants you open your mouth slightly for him. He slips his tongue past your parted lips and swirls it around yours.
You take all of his passion in, the warmth of his body, him being so close to you. The feel of his rough yet soft hands holding you close to his. You feel so lightheaded as he continues to kiss you.
After some time he slowly pulls away, finally giving you the chance to breathe in some air. Your whole body feels even more hot after the kiss, leaving you needy for his touch once again. You open your eyes as you take him in. His hair is a bit dishevelled from the way your hands were playing and tugging at it. He licks his lips as he gazes into your eyes.
“You’re so beautiful…” he whispers as his eyes travel all over your body. You feel breathless as he continues to look at you, looking at you with so much love and you suppose desire.
He slowly moves to sit next to you, he pats his thigh as he looks at you with a small smile. You blush furiously and your body trembles more as you move your body to sit on his lap. You wrap your legs around him and nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck, pecking his neck softly, too shy to look at him. Your heartbeat is beating so fast and your head is swimming. He chuckles as he wraps his arms around you, one hand comes to cradle your head as he presses a soft kiss on the top of your head.
“I would have never thought you'd be this shy.” He says teasingly and you continue to nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck at his words.
He lifts your head with one of his hands and your eyes catch his, his lips finding yours in a deep kiss; not wasting any time with slipping his tongue past your lips. The atmosphere in the room changes within seconds. Anthony is wrapped around you completely, a hand coming to cup one of your breasts, the other holding your ass. You never wanted and desired someone more.
A string of moans are slipping past your lips as Anthony drops his head down to press open mouthed kisses against the skin of your neck. Your hands rest on his stomach against his buttoned shirt, his abs warm underneath your palms. You could feel him grow underneath you, making you whimper against him.
“Anthony—” you gasp after he licks the place he sucked a mark onto your neck.
He moves his head away from your neck, quickly leaning forward to press his lips to yours in a gentle but deep kiss. “Your lips are so heavenly,” he murmurs against your lips.
Your head is clouded with lust and you feel so much love for him. Your brain is quite literally mush and you can’t seem to hear what he says to you.
“Huh?” You whisper dreamily.
Anthony chuckles lightly as he takes in your state.
“I asked,” he whispers as he leans his head back down to your ear, “if I could undress you.”
It takes your brain a moment to wrap around what he’s asking, right now, to you, and when it sinks in you feel yourself heat up even more.
You want him so badly and you’re extremely turned on but you would be lying if you weren’t nervous right now. Everything seems even more real when he asks you that question. Considering that you’re a virgin, you’re very inexperienced and it makes you a bit anxious. You want to be the best lover for him.
Anthony quickly senses your discomfort and pulls his head away from your neck, only to look at you.
You’re biting your lip as you try to look away from his intense but gentle stare. His hands come to cup your cheeks, turning your face towards his once again.
“Princess,” he whispers as he looks at you with so much love and patience. “I know this will be your first time and I promise I’ll be gentle with you. I want to take my time with you tonight and I want to make you feel good.” He says as he holds your face in his hands. Anthony’s fingers caress your cheeks and you slowly close your eyes as you enjoy his touch.
You open your eyes again to look at his eyes. His eyes were filled with lust a couple of minutes ago but now you could see more than that. Love. It makes your heart feel warm as you gaze into his eyes.
You bite your lip nervously once again and you see his eyes move to your lips. You sigh contemplating whether you should tell him about your insecurities or not. Deciding to be honest with him, you speak up finally. “I want this, I want you so bad. You have no idea how much I love and need you. I just…” you sigh as you look down at your hands, “I want to be a good lover to you.”
Anthony looks at you with so much warmth and care that it makes your insides melt. He smiles as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I promise, you’ll always be a good lover to me. You’re literally perfect to me, you’ll always be good enough in every way.”
A soft smile grows on your face at his words and you lean up to kiss him gently. “Okay,” you whisper against his lips.
“Okay… what?” He questions with a playful smile. “I need to hear you say it.”
“I want you to undress me.” You whisper against his lips with a smile as you look deep into his eyes, “I want you.” Seconds later his lips press against yours.
The kiss is like velvet against yours, and there’s still no hurry when he tilts his head a millimeter to fit against you better. His lips are so soft, swollen from all the kisses you’ve shared. All your previous nerves slowly go away as Anthony kisses you so full with love. His mouth moves, delicate and slow. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world.
All you can taste, all you can feel, all you can see, all you can think about is him.
The whine that comes out of you only drives Anthony to seek out more of those sounds, they are potentially the most amazing sounds he’s ever heard. Your arms wrap around his neck, in an attempt to bring him closer to you. Your hips accidentally move against him making him groan against your lips at the action.
Anthony peels his lips off yours, about to say something, when you launch forward, chasing his lips. He groans softly and moves his hand around to hold your face in his hands. He’s trying to pull away, determined to say what he needs to say, but everytime he does he goes back in, like his lips can’t be away from yours for more than a second. After leaving a few short kisses, he pulls back fully, eyes glazed over and lips a little swollen. You’re both taking your time to catch your breaths as you both stare into each other’s eyes.
You try to catch your breath, and when your lips part and you inhale and taste him and only him and nothing but him and the oxygen refilling your lungs. Everything about it makes you drowsy, something sweeps across your bottom lip and your breath turns into a gasp. His tongue wraps itself against yours, hot and slick as he tastes you deeply and what had been a gasp is now a loud embarrassing moan.
The way he kisses you, you are convinced that he’s the best kisser ever. His kisses are so sensual, so passionate and so full of love.
“Lord, I need you so bad baby” he groans against your lips. You shudder against him and feel the sensation pool down low between your thighs. You know your underwear is ruined by now. You’re so wet and turned on. He’ll always be the only one able to do this to you.
“M-more, please please,” you whine against him.
“You know when you beg like this I can’t say no to you, my love.” He says with a big grin.
Fingertips find the hem of your nightgown and you lean back a bit. You raise your arms quickly to help him get rid of your white lacy nightgown.
You don’t know what to do with your hands at all. They’re trembling like crazy, and your core is, too, as he drops the piece of fabric to the floor and leans down to start kissing along the crook of your neck.
His large hands find the curve of your waist where it meets your hips and clutches to it, holding you tight as he works his way with kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts.
You can feel your heartbeat picking up as his hands reach for your hips, holding them and pressing your body closer to his. His lips move to ghost over your neck, slowly moving below your ear. “You’re so… beautiful” He whispers into your ear.
Immediately, you feel a chill go down your spine, the warm sensation pool down low and more wetness forming between your thighs.
You feel his tongue licking up a stripe of your neck, your eyes are fluttering shut and you tremble against him as a moan escapes your lips. You feel him pull away and you open your eyes slowly seeing him look at you as if he’s trying to hold himself back from jumping you.
His eyes wander all over your chest, you’re bare from the waist up and you can’t help but feel so desired as he looks at you. Feeling your cheeks heat up as he licks his lips as he stares you up and down.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mutters again in a very raw tone, his voice strained. Anthony breathes in through his nose, you blush harder at that comment and shiver when he exhales warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “God. You’re so gorgeous. I can’t get enough of you. Your very being consumes me.”
That’s all you’re given before he wraps her lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucks passionately.
“My lord” you whimper, nails grabbing at his white shirt or something to cling to, and you feel the warm vibrations of a chuckle against your flesh. His tongue begins licking, long licks with the flat of his tongue over your hard nipple as his other hand goes up to squeeze your other breast.
You whine as your core starts clenching around nothing, begging for attention. Instinctively you start moving your hips against his making him groan against your skin. His lips leave your breast with a wet pop and he looks at you intensely as you try to catch your breath. You’re panting, barely able to think straight as he pushes your hair back and kisses the corner of your lips lovingly.
His lips come to kiss your lips deeply once again. He both rolls you over so that you’re underneath him instead. So lost in the kiss already, you moan as you enjoy his touch on your hips.
“Ah!” You gasp as you feel his head lean down to lick and suck your neck while one of his hands comes to squeeze one of your breasts. You feel yourself aching, the feeling in between your legs feels almost unbearable as you could feel yourself dripping against your underwear.
“So beautiful…” he murmurs as he kisses your chest.
The tone of his voice makes your body feel like it’s blazing—like the fire of a warm fireplace on a cold winter night. It burns, but it warms every single inch of you from the inside out.
“It’s unfair,” you whine as he continues to kiss you.
“What is?” He whispers as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, coaxing a loud moan out of you.
“T-that I’m almost naked and you aren’t…” you whisper as he brings his head up to look at you.
He chuckles before leaning down to kiss your forehead lovingly. “My wife wants to see me naked?” He teases as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.
“Anthony!” You gasp before he leans down to kiss your bare shoulder. “That’s improper!”
“What?” He laughs at your reaction. He shakes his head as he continues to stare at you. “Everything we have done up until now tonight hasn’t been proper.” He whispers as he leans up to brush his nose against yours.
“I’ll ask again, do you want to see me naked?” He smiles as he looks at you.
You pout as your cheeks heat up at his question. “Why do I have to say it? Obviously I want to see you.”
Anthony chuckles before leaning down to peck your lips again. “Wasn’t so hard was it?”
You huff playfully before his hands come to grab yours, moving them towards his chest.
Your hands slip onto his bare chest, pushing the sleeves of his shirt off. His skin is hot, and so firm. He feels like a dream. You feel like you could wake up any moment, as if all of this is a dream. He helps you unbutton his shirt as he stares down at you. It comes off easily and you gape at the artwork that is his chest.
“Oh lord…” you gasp.
He smiles softly as he lets you admire him, enjoying your shameless gaze.
“All of this is for you,” he murmurs gently “and it’ll always be only for you.” He whispers as he takes one of your hands in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles.
Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the action, making you blush even more. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. You love him so much. His mouth is like heaven to you. You’re convinced this is a dream still. He’s everything you could ever ask for. The kiss gets more heated the more you kiss each other. Your hands wander to the back of his head and you pull at his strands softly making him moan into your mouth.
The feel of his desire pressed against your heated skin is heavenly, and you roll your hips up into his to feel some friction against your core. You moan softly against his lips as you rub yourself against him.
He groans as you continue to grind up against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whine as he pushes your hips gently against the mattress, so desperate to feel him again.
You gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing, and his hand moves down to your heat, into your underwear. His mouth falls from yours to unleash a heavy groan into your neck at the first slip of his fingers between your parted lips.
It's very, very wet; more wet than you'd honestly ever been and certainly more wet than he could've imagined in his wildest dreams.
There’s a smile on Anthony’s face as he slides a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirms at the sensation.
"You're so wet for me, kitten. I absolutely love it." You whimper at the nickname he gave you and you buck your hips up towards his hand in response, silently begging for more. He notices and slips a second finger in, his pace speeding up with the addition. Your hands clutch the off-white bed sheets as you move along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him both curl them and spread them.
You gasp, his lips make their way to yours, kissing you with everything that he has. "That feels good doesn't it love? You like it when I touch you like this?" Anthony groans and rubs your clit faster. You buck your hips and nod quietly. "Use your words angel," he taunts.
"Yes, yes, oh my god, yes please. yes," you moan loudly.
“Good,” he says, a smug smirk playing on his face. It’s incredible how easy it is for this man above you to turn you on and make a mess of you.
Anthony leans down to trap your lips in another deep kiss. You can feel him smile against your lips as you whimper against his mouth.
You feel your legs spread even more open for him at the feeling of his finger pleasuring you. His tongue slips into your mouth after another gasp falls from your lips. You can’t help but moan and whine as he continues to pleasure you. Your hands wander to the back of his head pulling at hair softly making him moan into your mouth.
“God, I want you so bad.” He groans as his hand shifts, thumb settling against your clit to work it smoothly, and he thrusts another finger inside you slowly, curling his fingers forward with every penetration until your thighs shake.
“You have me, always.” You whimper as your body trembles underneath him. So overwhelmed with the arousal and emotions you’re feeling right now.
His eyes are burning holes into yours, lust and love written all over them. When he fastens his motions inside you, you moan out again and squeeze your eyes shut. That burning intense feeling, a tight coil in your lower abdomen making your back arch beautifully.
“Open your eyes for me my love, please look at me.”
You open your eyes slowly, looking straight into his eyes. His intense gaze is what it takes to make the dam break. The hot feeling spreads all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving on their own against his hand.
“You’re doing so well for me baby girl,” He says as his fingers slow down, slipping out of you to rub your slit softly, still helping you ride out your orgasm.
As you feel your consciousness finally come back to you, you feel his fingers slip away from your heat. He slowly and gently pulls your underwear off your body leaving you completely bare for him. His eyes can’t seem to stay in one place as he admires how beautiful you are.
Standing up he slowly makes work of the rest of his clothing, leaving him naked in front of you. Your eyes widen as you take him in. You can’t help but wonder if he is going to be able to fit inside you. He’s huge. A chill goes down your spine as he licks his lips while he looks at you. He’s so handsome, his body is truly beautiful.
He slowly moves towards the bed and gently spreads your thighs apart as he fits himself between them. He positions his body against yours, you feel his hand come up to your face to caress your cheek again as you feel one of his hands wander all over your body making you breathless already.
You feel his member momentarily against your wetness which makes you thrust against him.
He pushes your back up against the bed, pressing himself flush against your body. He brings his lips down against your own once again, stealing your breath and making you whine needily in his mouth. He groans in response, his hands slowly drifting down from your waist towards your hips.
“I need you,” you pant against his lips, but Anthony pulls his hips away slightly with a small smirk on his face. “Please…”
You need him so bad. You feel him press kisses all over your face, he starts pressing tender kisses everywhere on your face and body. Panting you feel him slowly go down your body. He momentarily wraps his mouth around one of your nipples and sucks lightly making you arch your body against his. You feel him caress your arms softly, comforting you. Eventually you feel his lips move lower down your body. Littering your body full of love and affection.
You feel yourself dripping down the sheets, whining helplessly. You need him so bad.
He travels all the way down until he is face to face with your heat. Anthony gently spreads your legs further apart for him with his strong hands. You can see his arousal showing in his eyes. Licking his lips he leans down to press a kiss on one of your thighs, so close to where you need him the most.
A loud broken moan leaves your lips as his lips finally meet your wet heat. He dives between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance before he travels up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet tongue and sucking your button into his mouth.
You practically scream at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed. You feel your body trembling and you try to grind your wetness slowly against his lips.
Strong arms are locked around your thighs, he secures your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his lips.
You can feel Anthony chuckle against your heat making you feel even more hot all over. His tongue is lapping at your lower lips. Squeaky, senseless noises come out from your throat. You’re squirming and he just sighs like there’s nothing in the world he’d rather be doing than this right now, eating you out on your shared bed, and it’s so good you can barely even figure out what he’s doing with his tongue.
Anthony moans into you, the vibrations full and hot, and you splutter.
“A-ah t-this is too much” you squeak, your voice sounds strangled and full of desperation. You’re so close to the edge “I c-can’t this is too-too much.”
“Easy my love,” he whispers as he places a soft kiss on your right thigh. Your whole body is trembling from the new sensations he just gave you.
“My lord” you mumble softly.
“It’s okay Y/N, I know, I’ve got you” he coos again, teasing. “It’s a lot. Will you let me continue?”
“Y-yeah, just uh wait a second” you whine.
“Alright.”
But after a couple of seconds waiting it feels too much. It feels like hours are passing by. You’re already tired of waiting and he is, too. When he leans down to dip his tongue between your folds once again.
You sigh at the same time he does, except yours is high-pitched and his sounds so dreamy. Anthony is lapping at you with determination, taking care not to be too rough or too fast this time and push you over the edge only when you’re ready for it.
“Oh, my god,” you whimper, trembling digits sinking into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, trying to silence yourself. “My-my-my gooooohd…”
“I know” he mumbles, his lips sealing around your clit and you almost jump out of your skin at the action. “God- you taste good. You feel so good. You’re everything.”
You’re a mess of his name, you chant his name over and over again. Eyes are squeezing shut to the point of tears, his arms press into your hip bones to pin you in place as you buck into him again, trying to get closer to that feeling of his tongue lapping on your clit and urging him to do more.
“Ah Anthony baby, oh my goooood” you cry out loud. You’re sure the rest of the people in the house have heard you by now. He sucks lazily at your clit while he moves to curl his fingers into you. Anthony eventually sucks harder on your clit, still occasionally swirling his tongue around your little bud while moving his fingers inside you a bit faster. You keep crying out his name between moans as you now hold onto his hair with both of your hands.
You are so so close. Suddenly you feel his fingers retreat from your core and you whine at the loss of his fingers. This makes Anthony chuckle. He leans down again. Slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curls the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraging him to do it again.
You feel so dizzy from his ministrations. Moaning and whining, you writhe underneath him. “Fuck, Anthonyyyy.” You whimper when he begins thrusting his tongue in and out of you just as his fingers had been doing moments before, hips bucking uncontrollably into his mouth as you repeatedly whine his name. You were this close to coming on his face, but your body needed one more little push.
“Come on, kitten, come for me.”
You gasp loudly as you feel your whole body trembling even more and then you feel your body tense as you come against his mouth. Your whole mind feels like exploding and all you can see is stars. You feel so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body is still trembling as you feel yourself come down from your high.
You feel Anthony still licking up your wet heat, his mouth is heavenly. He’s now licking every last remaining wetness coming out of your entrance, moaning at the taste.
You whimper because you feel so overstimulated. You tug at his hair softly trying to signal him that you can’t take it anymore for now.
“Such a good angel,” he whispers as he retreats his mouth from your heat and he wipes your juices off his mouth with a small smile while looking at you “You did so well my love.”
Anthony presses a kiss on your hip bone, then slowly moves his body, finally facing you. You’re still trying to catch your breath, trying to keep your eyes open. He smiles down at you with so much adoration, it makes your insides melt.
He leans down to press kisses down your neck to your shoulders making you giggle as he litters your body full of kisses.
“Make love to me, Anthony,” you sigh, and he groans against your neck. He pulls back just enough to look at you, stroking your hair back from your face as his eyes look deeply into yours.
He surges forward and kisses you so passionately, taking your breath away. You sigh into it, your eyes sliding shut as you bury your fingers in his hair. Anthony groans low, as your fingernails rake against his scalp. You melt into him as his arms hug you closer to him. You moan against his lips as you feel him massage your back and neck just slightly. This gave him the opportunity to swipe his tongue against your bottom lip, slipping it inside your mouth.
You let out more moans and whines against his lips as you both dance your tongues against one another. You whine as he pulls away smiling at you with a tender look in his eyes.
“You know I love you right?” He says as one of his hands reaches to rest against your cheek, stroking your soft skin. You feel yourself melt instantly as you look into his eyes and his soft touch.
“Of course I do, I love you too, so much.” You whisper and smile shyly as you lean up to him and you both meet in a soft kiss. The two of you kiss languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together.
It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other.
You can’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his cock. It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, and he has no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.
“Oh, fuck” Anthony rasps, and it’s because he’s reaching down and grasping himself to line up between your lips and slide. He keeps rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him, and back down. He loves the sounds you make as he spreads his precum around your slit, where you are still dripping for him.
You gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You’re still so so wet. Anthony swallows your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kisses you full of fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.
You’re trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covers your whole body with his. You writhe against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and making you see white.
“Are you ready my dearest? Let me know if I start to hurt you or if you want to stop.” He whispers as he looks deep into your eyes.
You bite your lip and nod, too shy and excited to talk.
“I’ll try to go slow at first, okay, angel?” He says before leaning back down to kiss your lips again, he reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He is rubbing the tip firmly over your swollen clit and your mind is all over the place.
“P-please, Anthony,” you stutter, your body trembling even more “p-put it in, please?”
He rubs himself up and down your slit for a while longer before one of his hands lean down to spread your outer lips sliding his dick teasingly around your core. You arch your back slightly and whine loudly out of frustration.
The moment you want to beg him again to put it in he leans down to line it up with your entrance. Your legs tremble underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. Anthony slides in so slowly it’s agonizing. He’s careful, like he’s afraid you might break. You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushes more of him inside you. He’s so big. He leans down to kiss your lips gently as he moves more inside, hoping the sweetness of the embrace will soften the sting.
Once he’s fully inside you, you sigh against his lips. You feel so full, as if he is made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely has you seeing stars and digging your fingernails into his shoulders.You feel one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reaches up to your face.
“You okay?” He asks worriedly.
“Y-yeah, I just need a moment.” You murmur.
“Anything for you, my love.” He smiles as your eyes are drifting close.
You feel yourself gradually adjust to his size and you bite your lip as you open your eyes again to look up at your handsome husband on top of you.
“P-please move.” You beg.
He nods quietly and starts by fucking you slow and deep, one hand reaching down to play with your clit, while the other holds your hand tightly. The sting hurts you for a while, but it easily changes to a more pleasurable feeling as he moves against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he’s giving you is mixed between pain and pleasure.
He grunts as he drops his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin there and to whisper sweet nothings as he sets a pace.
“So tight…” he groans.
The angle is so good, but when his pace picks up he finally leans down to wrap his arms around you, that it makes you gasp and you grab the sheets around you, to fuck you harder and faster.
“You’re taking me so well, kitten. Doing so so, good for me. Y-you’re so perfect.”
You whimper as his lips, move back up to your lips, enveloping them in a passionate kiss.
At a certain point you feel the end of his strokes slide into a pressure point in your core that has you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head from the pleasure he’s giving you. A loud noise like nothing you’ve ever made escapes your throat, a strange cry of his name.
“M-mmhmm fuck! Anthonyyyyy—!”
He leans down to whisper in your ear. “F-fuck you’re so loud for me princess, are you close?”
“Oh my” you moan, hot tears filling the corners of your eyes in pleasure, “I aaaaaam… I t-think so o-oh, fuck please!”
“Look at you, so desperate to come…”
The air is stuffy all around you, each harsh breath released only thickening it up, leaving your skin hot and your mind fuzzy. Another precise thrust has you whimpering, wrapping your legs around his hips, pushing him closer.
His mouth covers your own to swallow your mewls, you can feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tight, tight, tighter. His lips slide away from yours, wet and swollen and his breathing harsh as he tries to suck in air again, and everything is too much. It’s just too much for you to handle.
He’s quickening his pace, hips snapping to a fast tempo. “This pussy was made for this cock, isn’t it kitten?” His hands can’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You moan at the feeling of his speed, your third orgasm of the night, coming so close. Your arms wrap around him and your nails dig in his back making him groan. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, tingling down to your legs, ready to snap any second now.
“Always, so beautiful,” he whispers, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “You look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, god, bet you look pretty full of my cum too.”
“Please…” you whine as you think about him filling you up and you tighten your walls around him once again. “Yes, yesyes please. Fill me up Anthony… please.”
Those are the golden words he needed to hear, groaning he buries his face into your neck as he fucks into you, making the whole bed rattle, the wooden headboard slamming into the wall.
“Fuuuffuuucck… I’m g-gonna… I-I’m g-gon…na… A-Anthony-y… I-I love you I love you I nneeeeddd yyouhhh h n-nnno I wwaaant mooorrre, I-I’m gonna–”
“Cum for me, pretty. I got you. Show me that I’m the only one who can make you cum like this. Cum all over me, princess.”
You come with a loud cry, your body squirming underneath his as you hold his body closer to yours, your nails digging in his back, scratching it. This orgasm felt more intense than the others, you’re feeling so overwhelmed by the pleasure you’re feeling. Anthony groans in your ear as your walls spasm and pulse around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.
“Ah fuck—“ he moans, pushing himself up as he thrusts deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “Are you gonna take my cum like a good wife? Let me fill you up until my love is messy, hm?”
You nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. “Please… please put a baby inside me.”
He groans loudly at your words, he’s a stuttering mess and his hips are jerking wildly without his permission and he’s cumming inside of you deeply. The warmth of his seed fills you up and spreads within you. He looks so beautiful coming undone on top of you.
You’re both trying to catch your breaths as he leans his forehead against yours. Eventually you feel him slowly roll off of you and he lays down next to you while he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. You turn to your side towards him as he pulls you against him, his body hot and slick from sweat.
“I love you so much,” he says, his voice low, with a huge smile on his face.
“I love you too,” you say as you blush at how intensely he looks at you. You’re giggling softly as he wraps his arms around you, holding you impossibly closer to his body.
“You’re everything to me… so perfect.” He whispers as he leans his lips down to yours to kiss you gently.
“You’re everything to me too…” you say against his lips with a smile.
The both of you soon continue to make conversation as you hold onto each other. Laughing and talking until you’re too tired to stay up anymore. The night is filled with touches, kisses and so much love.
——
When you wake up, it’s the morning, light slips through the partially open blinds and warms the room. You feel all hot, Anthony’s body wrapping around you from behind, spooning you, holding you close to him. Your legs are tangled together, and both of you are still naked, laying under the covers.
You feel him nuzzle against you, melting against him, still feeling so hot. Barely awake, you whine as you try to kick the thick cover off of your bare body and you sigh into your pillow. After a few more minutes of unsuccessfully trying to get back to sleep, your eyes slid open only to end up squinting at the offending sunlight.
You close your eyes again and yawn, stretching your limbs and a smile plays on your face once you’re done. At your movements, your husband moves closer, groaning and wrapping his arms around you, tugging you even closer to him until your back is pressed up against his warm chest. You could feel his breath on your neck, soft and slow. His morning wood pressing against your ass and you feel your cheeks heat up at the feeling. Rolling over, you’re met with Anthony’s sleepy face. You smile once again as you take in his soft and peaceful face, you bring one of your hands to trace his lips with your fingertips. Your fingers travel to his messy hair, running your fingers through his hair gently.
Anthony sighs softly before tugging your body closer to his once again. Your eyes start to drift shut again, sleep overtaking you slowly. You feel so content, being able to hold and just enjoy the morning with the love of your life. But before you can fall asleep once again, you feel his lips on your neck.
“Hmmm,” you mumble, still very sleepy. “What are you doing?” You giggle and try to wiggle away from him. His grip tightens around your waist, tugging you closer to his body once again.
Nuzzling his face against your neck, he responds, “You’re so warm and so beautiful...” He says as his fingers trace your back so gently and his fingertips feel so soft against your skin.
You giggle as he continues to kiss your neck, before you know it he reaches back to take the covers and pull them over your bodies. Cuddling you once again while holding your naked body against his.
“Anthony...” Your whines slowly turn into soft moans as he continues to kiss your neck. He’s switching between soft small chaste kisses to wet and deep kisses that you know will leave marks on your skin.
His kisses travel to your jaw, nipping at it gently making you a whimpering mess. He is so warm against you, cocooning you in his arms and making you melt against his touch. You feel more wetness pool down low between your thighs the more he touches and kisses you. Rubbing your legs against each other, to get some friction, you hear Anthony chuckle before one of his hands comes between your thighs, pushing your legs apart for him.
“I can smell how wet you are…” He whispers against your skin making you whine against him.
His mouth moves slowly towards your lips, engulfing your mouth in a deep and slow kiss. Anthony always kisses you like he has all the time in the world. His fingers move from your waist to your upper back, and his skin is so hot and wet against yours and to make things even worse his hands move once again to cup your face gently in his hands, deepening the kiss once again.
You wrap your arms around him as you hold him closer to your body. You feel his dick, so hard against your heat, throbbing against you. Bringing your leg up, you wrap it around his hip, grinding your wetness against him. He groans as he feels your dripping core against him.
“Please… Anthony… I need you.” You whisper against his lips. His fingers tighten against your hips as he grunts at your words. He removes his lips from yours, moving his mouth to your ear.
“How do you want me?” He whispers into your ear, his voice deep. Your body shudders at his words and you whine as you continue to grind against him.
“I-I want you to take me.” You stutter shyly.
“How do you want me to take you?” He groans as his dick slips between your folds. “I have some ideas…”
Your cheeks heat up as he rolls you onto your stomach. He moves himself behind you, pulling your hips up, ass in the air for him. He stares at your wet heat, clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. Your body trembles with anticipation. You’re dripping, so soaked for him.
Seconds later you feel his cock rubbing up and down your slit. You grip the sheets as he circles the tip around your entrance and you whimper as you buck your hips against him, wanting him to fill you up.
He grips your hips, holding you so you don’t make any movements any more. “Bad kitten… so impatient.” Anthony groans when you wiggle for him, spreading your legs a bit more for him exposing more of your pussy.
“I want you so bad…” you whine, your cheeks heat up at your new favourite pet name he has for you. “D-daddy please… fill me up. Make love to me, I want your babies…”
He growls at the word and you’re glad that pulled a reaction out of him. He continues to circle his tip around your entrance, pulling more desperate whimpers from your lips. Wiggling your hips you try to push back against him but the strong hold that he has on you makes it hard for you to move.
A broken gasp leaves your lips as he finally slides the tip inside you. He gradually slides more of his thickness inside you and you tremble more underneath him. The pressure of his massive dick deep within your walls overwhelms you while you clutch the sheets below you in tight fists.
“Fuck kitty,” he groans breathlessly, as his hands trace your body gently. “You’re taking me so well, we’re almost there.”
He thrusts the last parts of himself inside you, filling you up to the brim, you moan as he halts his movements, finally inside you all the way. “Fuck, angel, you look so beautiful like this, so small, taking me all the way underneath me.” He can’t control the words that leave his lips as his hips move, quickly pulling himself out of you making you whine at the empty feeling. “My wife… such a needy kitten.” He groans before he thrusts himself all the way inside your pussy again.
“A-Ah daddy… oh my god—” you hiccup as he moves his hips slowly against you. You cry out as he thrusts so deep inside you that it has your body slumping against the bed. His hands come to move to squeeze the flesh of your ass while he continues to move against you.
You moan loudly, arching your back and pressing your ass up against him, and he grabs your asscheeks, keeping the angle perfect as he starts rolling his hips deeply into you. The noises that are spilling off your lips drive him insane, his dick throbbing inside you as you start to tighten around him. He’s so deep, hitting your cervix repeatedly making your eyes roll back in your head.
“Does my wife love being filled like this?” He moans as he leans down to press kisses against your shoulders.
Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell him, breathlessly, about how good he is making you feel. The sound of your pleasure fuels his desire to fuck you better, urging him to do more. Anthony picks up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb.
You claw at the sheets, burying your face into the pillow to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as his hips move faster, whining you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his big cock. He moans at the sight, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, his tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes roll back inside your head once again as you dig your fingers more into the bed, you mewl against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.
“F-fuck fuck fuck, this feels so goooohhhood my lord, p-please more… harder please”
“Yeah? You love being filled with all of my cock don’t you?” He grunts as he slaps your ass once making you cry out in pleasure. Your moans grow louder and louder as well as the sounds of your pussy that keep meeting his dick over and over again. The sounds mix along with your desperate whimpers. “Your pussy is so tight and wet around me, begging me to fill you up in other ways… begging for my seed.”
“God, fuck Anthony, daddy fuck p-pleaaaase I—”
You whine as your eyes roll back inside your head.
“What do you want, kitten?” He groans while one of his hands reach around you to slip against your clit making you writhe against him as he applies pressure. The pleasure has the tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, dying for your release.
“Oh, o-oh m-my… please sir, h-harder, faster p-p-pleaaseee.” You squeak out in between moans. The wet noises of him easing into you over and over has your cheeks burning, realising just how wet and needy you are for him.
He growls, gripping your hips tighter as he picks up his pace once more. Your skin is all sweaty and hot. You try to catch your breath but from how Anthony is trusting inside you and the rubbing against your clit it feels almost impossible to do so.
“Does that feel good princess?” He asks as he leans down his body closer to yours making him hit your cervix repeatedly. You whimper and tremble underneath him as you nod, he moans against your ear as he whispers close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you like it.”
“Yes! I-it feels sooooo gooood, Anthonyyyy—” you whine as he continues to hit your sensitive spots inside you. His fingers press down on your little button making you squirm. The tension continues to build up as the pleasure is becoming too overwhelming. You are crying out for him, your moans almost sounding like his name, and he moves his head down once again and licks your neck.
Anthony snaps his hips into you again and again, thrusting deep, causing you to see stars from knowing just how to pleasure you. Feeling like your head is swimming once again, you whine. “I’m so close, my love, please…” you beg desperately. You only need one more little push, a little bit more attention to reach your peak.
“Come for me kitten…” he whispers against your ear. “Cum around me… let me put my heir inside you.”
His hips never slow down as he massages your clit. The coil finally snaps, pleasure erupts in waves as heat overflows your body as you arch your back. You can’t stop yourself from shaking as you come against him. You almost black out because of the intensity of your orgasm, trembling like crazy. You feel yourself gushing against him, you moan as the overstimulation is getting to you.
“Fuck!” He grunts as he looks at you and feels you squirting all over him. “I wanna fill you up, my love.” His pace is becoming erratic, with less finesse as he charges towards his own finish line. “Going to fuck a baby into you, angel. Get you nice and full…”
Your walls pulse and become tighter around him as he continues to hit your cervix. He groans as his movements become more sloppy. Loud whimpers leave your lips as he finally spills his seed inside you, coating each inch of you with a warmth that pools deep inside you.
Anthony sighs as he finally feels his climax subside. His cock finishes its weak pulses, and he gently pulls out of your spent hole, making you whimper at the loss and he watches his seed drool out of you. Your pussy continues to clench repeatedly and he feels himself harden again at the sight. He wants to take you again but he knows he needs you to recover first.
“Hmmm, I think your little cunt needs to look like this every single day, don’t you?” He whispers with a smile.
You’re still trying to catch your breath as you whine every now and then. He moves off the bed, making his way to the bathroom to get a warm, wet cloth and returns to your legs to clean you carefully. Once he’s done he comes back into bed, wrapping his arms around you instantly.
“You did so well my love,” he whispers as he places soft kisses against your temples. Your cheeks burn at his sweet words. He leans down to capture your lips in another kiss. Kissing each other languidly for a while before you feel him trace your thighs with his fingers. You pull away and you raise your eyebrows at him.
“What?” He chuckles, playing coy and tries not to laugh as you shake your head with amusement.
“I know you want more… I can practically feel how hard you are against me.”
He hums at your words with a smile as his lips move against yours again. “I’ll always want you.”
Heat rises to your cheeks at his words. “Me too…” you whisper shyly.
“I’ve been very nice, very good to you. Maybe you would love to squirt all over me again?” He smiles at you deviously as you gasp, giving him a playful push.
“Anthony!” You squeal before he holds your body close to his, swallowing your noises as he kisses you deeply. Both of your laughs turn into breathy moans as you both continue to touch each other.
As he kisses and touches you again and again, you settle in for a long day, as Anthony intends on wearing you out.
#anthony bridgerton fic#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x female reader#anthony bridgerton smut#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton fluff#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x female reader#my writing
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Messy - Anthony Bridgerton
Synopsis: What was supposed to go as a smooth business meeting ends rather the opposite, thanks to Anthony's great distraction; you.
Content Warnings: written at 1am and not proofread. Proceed at your own risk.
Anthony was trying his best to be a gentleman. He prided himself on just that, after all, and would be mortified to be seen as anything else. That is why, when things got particularly disastrous, Anthony could not stop the apologies spilling from his lips.
The day had begun simple enough. The sky was the perfect shade of blue, matching the theme of the Bridgerton household without fail, and the sun peeked through thin clouds enough to cast its warmth in a comfortable manner. Your family had been set to meet with the Bridgerton's at noon, a business deal that would hopefully provide wealth and further status to both families alike. And when you'd arrived, carriage and horses pulling to a stop on the gravel, nothing had been amiss. In fact, everyone involved had been more than confident in the speed at which the deal could be made. There was much to discuss, yes, but without interruption, time would pass quickly, and you'd be home before you knew it. And yet, that wasn't the way things occurred.
Anthony takes the blame himself, for if he had kept focused perhaps nothing would have gone awry. But when his eyes landed on you, stepping down from the carriage with the help of your older brother's hand, he was stuck. It was as though his gaze was caught on you, like a thread hooked upon a nail, and he couldn't cut himself loose.
"Lord Bridgerton," your greeting was lost, as were everyone else's as his ears roared with shame. He was flustered, it seemed, and you had done nothing yet to cause it.
He sent you a smile, welcomed you, and your family, to the estate, trying wholeheartedly to snap himself from this trance. And for a while he thought to have succeeded.
Inside his home, everyone sat in the living room, and across from Anthony sat your oldest brother, in the place of your father who Anthony could only assume would not be joining you. Perhaps the man had passed like his own parent, or maybe some other reason was behind it. But Anthony had no troubles with a man closer to his age, and he was more than ready to converse in the gentlemanly manner he had trained himself to default to. You sat near Anthony's mother, discussing the rose gardens and other rather lady-like things, but there was something about your posture that told Anthony you could not care less about the flowers outside the large windows.
You held a pleasing smile, and to any passer by you might appear interested in such a topic, but to Anthony you were anything but convincing. Your eyes were distant from the conversation, and your hands were occupied fiddling with the folds of your dress. You were nodding along, with nothing much to say other than compliments toward his mothers gardeners. He was an actor himself at times, in fact this business deal required an almost theatre like performance to sell, and he could see his own tactics as well as some his siblings strategies coming through in you.
"Lord Bridgerton," This time, his title did not come from you, but rather your brother, whom Anthony had been unknowingly ignoring in favour of examining your actions.
Anthony clears his throat, and he can feel the heat rising up his neck underneath his collar. "Yes, sorry, go on." He doesn't have a clue what the man before him had been saying previously, and even as the conversation continues he is hardly listening. He's scolding himself internally, trying to keep it together.
He's able to hold focus on the matters at hand for awhile after that, and everything seemed to be running smooth enough—until the tea arrived.
Mrs Wilson had meant no harm when she entered the room, and in truth, none of the following events had been her fault. She was simply a housekeeper, and Anthony should have been paying more attention. He was attentive to some things, the way you moved included. The smile you sent Mrs Wilson when she offered you tea, and the way strands of your hair fell forward into your vision at the nod of your head made him want to get up and cross the room to you. It made him want to brush them back and touch the skin that he could see. He wanted to speak with you then, he realized, and had he held any sense, he would have pushed the idea back into the depths of his mind. In a pause of conversation between you brother, Anthony decides to stand and cross the room, to where you and his mother reside. Your own mother sits beside you, bewildered at his sudden approach, and yet it doesn't occur to him that this could go wrong.
"Let me, Mrs Wilson." Anthony doesn't know why he takes the teapot from the housekeeper, nor does he understand why he finds himself pouring tea for the set of women before him. But the way your eyes run over him, the upturn of your lips to his actions makes it all worth it. Of course, until it all goes wrong. Again.
"Anthony, the tea!" his mothers voice rings in his ears, and when he looks back toward the teacups his eyes widen. He's overfilling the cup you hold as she speaks, and the hot liquid spills onto your hands. You yelp in surprise, seemingly not having noticed his mistake until you felt the burn, and drop your cup abruptly. The sound of it shattering is sharp, echoing along with Anthony's embarrassment.
"My apologies Miss L/N, I did not intend to—are you okay?" he watches as you scramble to your feet, trying your best to avoid the other splashes of the hot tea, and the shards of the cup upon the floor.
"No, I am sorry Lord Bridgerton," Your eyes move quickly between the broken teacup and your dress, now stained. He can see embarrassment in your own movements, and can feel it in his.
"I was the one at fault, Miss. Please allow me to apologize," Anthony had not realized how close he had come to you until this moment, his eyes scanning over your figure trying to find any way he could help. But it struck him suddenly to know that he had taken your hands in his own. He had been checking for burns from the tea, but now the feeling of your skin on his brought heat to his cheeks.
He drops your hands abruptly, casting his gaze to your brother, who stands disapprovingly to his left. "I am sorry again," Anthony takes a step back, though now your eyes have met with his, and he can see something in him that suggests he might not be the only one flustered by the encounter. "Are you harmed at all? Did you need assistance, perhaps by one of the maids, or a doctor?" he can still feel the weight of your fingers held in his own, even now as space lies between you.
"I am okay, my Lord, though I am rather embarrassed." the way your eyes sparkle seems just for him, and when you shift your gaze towards the maids, now cleaning up the mess from moments before, he watches the small and bashful smile you once held fall.
"My apologies, I should have been more careful." You say to the maids and all others in the room, though Anthony is shaking his head before the full sentence can even dare to leave you.
"It was me who was careless. You are not at fault." he places a hand over his heart, once again ignoring all other surroundings in favor of absorbing you. "I am sorry if I caused you any pain, and given the chance, I would love to provide funds for a new dress to replace the one my incautious behavior has ruined." his words cause a small, almost inaudible gasp from his mother, though he can see her expression in his peripheral. He will not hear the end of this for a while, he thinks. Once word got out amongst his siblings that he had found a soft spot for a woman he hardly knew, enough to pay for new garments, he would be endlessly teased. And yet he didn't care. Because the look on your face, one of shock, and fascination made him feel important.
That however, was the moment where your brother cleared his throat. Breaking through whatever connection Anthony had made with you.
"Are we to continue with business, Bridgerton?" He sounds irritated, and it's clear he can see exactly how the viscount is feeling. It's not hard to notice by now that Anthony's gaze is hardly able to break from you for a second.
"Yes, of course." Anthony is still looking at you when he says it, and only when a hand is placed on his arm, his mother's, pushing him back toward his seat, does he break free of the spell you so effortlessly place.
A few weeks later and the carpet has been cleaned, no stain has been left from the tea, and the teacup broken has long been replaced. The Bridgerton estate is bustling with noise, its latest ball bringing the entire ton and more to the premises. As Anthony's eyes scan the room, cautious of making any wrong moves, as usual, his heart wanders, leaving him behind. You stand with a drink delicately in hand, ivory gloved fingers with a gentle grasp upon the glass. Anthony, once again, can not look away.
When you finally meet his eyes, he is unable to stop himself, moving through the ballroom swiftly, even as many others try to stop him for conversation. The other women of the ton pause their own movements in the hopes the viscount may be coming to speak with them, and with each lady is passes, disappointment, and envy fill the room.
"Miss L/N." He greets you with a smile, partly because he can't help himself at the sight of you.
"Lord Bridgerton." you attempt a short bow, one that is barely there at all, but he doesn't mind. Somehow he knows you're teasing him. Testing him perhaps, in the way you smirk.
"I am pleased to see you again. You look wonderful tonight." his usual flattery makes you scoff, partly in shock, though there is humor there too. It is not at all lady-like, nor what your mother trained of you, but Anthony finds a thrill in the behavior, as inappropriate as it may be.
"Do you not believe me?" he asks, watching as you take a sip of your drink. You do it almost to fill the gap between his speech, and it seems practiced. As if you have done the same to pause conversation between many men before him.
"No, I do believe you my lord. I am aware of my appearance. Though I should thank you, for this dress is the one you paid for."
"It seems to me that it was money well spent." Anthony is a gentleman, though he can picture himself with his hands tangled in the dress you wear tonight. Knowing that he was the one to gift it to you somehow makes his feelings grow stronger.
"It does seem so." There's a quiet between you after your words, partly because he can not think of anything more to say, and you laugh in the space of the silence. A gentle sound, not loud enough for many other than him to hear, but the grin that accompanies it is what makes Anthony's stomach flip. It's something he had never predicted occurring within himself, and yet, now he can feel it.
"Would you like to dance?" he asks, and somehow he knows you'll say yes, if only to continue the tension between you. You nod at first, handing off your glass to a passing waiter, before taking his hand.
"I would love to."
#bridgerton#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton fanfic#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton fic#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x femreader#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton smut#anthony bridgerton fluff#anthony bridgerton angst#anthony bridgerton drabble#anthony bridgerton one shot#anthony bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton season 3#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton fanfic#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fic#bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x y/n
285 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Perfect Match
Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for Fictober 2023!
Fandom: Bridgerton
Day 19 Prompt: "What if we're wrong?"
Summary: Anthony and Y/N have been dancing around each other for far too long. Benedict and Colin decide to do something about that.
Word Count: 1,726
Category: Fluff, minor angst
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
Benedict's POV
"Colin!" I hissed, poking my head into the study where my brother sat journaling about his travels. He looked up at me like he had no idea why I could be bothering him. "Lady Y/N is here."
"Oh!"
He shot out of his seat, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. We'd only been putting together our plan to get her and my brother together for a week. How he could've forgotten was beyond me.
"Alright, she's having tea with Eloise in the drawing room. I'm going to go get her and bring her to Anthony's study," I said as Colin and I walked through the halls. "You just be ready to come give me a reason to leave once we're in there."
Colin nodded, then paused.
"Benedict? What if we're wrong? About their feelings?"
I sighed. Anthony and Y/N truly did butt heads at every opportunity as if they hated each other. But it was hard to miss the longing looks and the way one of them got distracted just by the other walking into the room. I shrugged.
"Well, I suppose if we're wrong, they'll probably kill us."
Colin gave me a look, but I completely ignored it as I marched into the drawing room.
****************
Y/N's POV
"Y/N!"
I turned from my tea and the book spread between me and Eloise at the sound of Benedict's voice, giving him a friendly smile as he entered the room.
"Hello, Benedict. Lovely to see you."
"Likewise. Actually, I was wondering if you could spare a moment to accompany me upstairs? Anthony mentioned needing to see you for something, and I told him that since I was on my way down, I'd bring you back up."
"Anthony wanted to see me?" I asked, working very hard to keep my tone neutral. Benedict nodded.
"Yes, if you don't mind."
"Actually, we do mind," Eloise chimed in. "Tell Anthony he can get his own friend."
"Eloise, Mother wanted to see you as well," Benedict responded smoothly. "She's in the garden."
Eloise narrowed her eyes, and I watched the staring contest develop like a tennis match. Finally, after a few moments, Eloise gave in and stood with a sigh.
"Fine. I shall go find her. But if this is a ruse, Benedict-"
"For what purpose? You are entirely too suspiscious sister."
I hid a laugh behind my hand as Eloise glared at Benedict on her way out of the room. I truly loved the Bridgertons, and watching them interact was more entertaining than the most competitive horse race.
"Lady Y/N," said Benedict, offering his arm to me with a smile. I took it, my mind racing as Benedict and I made our way upstairs. Anthony and I had a rather unusual relationship, and although I'd never admit it, I had developed strong feelings for the Viscount over the course of knowing him. The curiosity over why he wanted to see me was eating me alive.
"Did Anthony mention what he wished to discuss?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.
"No, he only asked me to hurry," Benedict responded. We reached the door, and Benedict held it open for me. "After you."
I stepped inside, feeling a bit nervous. Anthony was hard at work, scribbling away at papers on his desk, but he looked up when he saw me.
"Lady Y/N! Hello, uh..." He cleared his throat and shuffled some of the papers into a neater pile absentmindedly.
"Here she is, brother, like you asked," said Benedict as he came to stand beside me. Anthony's brow furrowed like he was confused, but Colin poked his head into the study before Anthony could say anything.
"Benedict!" said Colin. "Mother sent me, she needs to see you immediately."
Now it was my turn to be a bit confused, especially as Benedict grimaced like Colin had some something wrong. Before I could say anything, however, Benedict was moving quickly towards the door.
"Right, well, then I'd better not keep her waiting."
With that, he and Colin ducked into the hall, closing the door behind them. A moment later I heard the door lock, and then a sound like something heavy being pushed against it from the other side.
"Did they just..."
I stared in shock at the door for a few moments, whirled around to look at Anthony, then turned back to the door again. Benedict and Colin had just locked me in here, with Anthony, who looked as surprised as I did.
After a long moment of inaction, Anthony pushed back from his desk and quickly crossed the room. I watched as he tried the door and it didn't budge, then tried it again. Finally, he shoved it a bit with his shoulder as if it were stuck, and still nothing worked.
"Benedict! Colin!" he shouted through the door. No response.
"Anthony?" He whirled around to face me, eyes a little wild. "Did you actually ask Benedict to bring me up here to talk about something?"
"What? No, I haven't seen Benedict all morning."
I crossed my arms and shook my head, turning away from Anthony.
"I can't believe those two. I can't believe them."
"What are you talking about?"
I huffed an irritated sigh, then answered without turning around.
"Benedict dragged me away from tea with Eloise, telling me you'd asked to see me, right away. I don't know what on earth he and Colin were thinking, but now I'm stuck in here with you-"
I stopped abruptly, not trusting myself to continue speaking. Anthony and I butted heads plenty, but there was no denying how much I enjoyed spending time with him. Sparring with him when we disagreed and never feeling angry, just excited. Laughing as he complained about having to participate in the season but feeling jealous when one of the other girls or Mamas got their hands on him... I loved him. But I wasn't sure I wanted to admit it.
"Is it really so awful?"
Anthony's voice was thick, more vulnerable than I'd really ever heard it before. I turned around to fix him with a questioning look, and he held my eyes, although he looked ready to run at a moment's notice. Unfortunately for him, we had nowhere to go.
"Is it really so awful to be stuck in here with me?" Anthony continued when I didn't answer him. "Do you really hate me so much?"
My heart shattered in my chest, especially at the tentative sadness in his voice. My answer didn't come right away, and after a second or two of silence, Anthony turned away.
"I'm sorry. Forget I said anything-"
"Anthony no I- I'm sorry." I started crossing the room to him, but stopped halfway, thinking better of it. "I have fun giving you a hard time and arguing over silly things with you. But if I've done that to the point that you feel I truly hate you... then I'm sorry, I should never have let it go that far."
Anthony turned to face me again, a guarded expression on his face.
"So you do not hate me?"
"No. Quite the opposite, actually."
I took a deep breath, steeling myself to say what I needed to say next. I trusted Benedict and Colin not to do this to me unless they had some idea that my feelings for Anthony were mutual. Hopefully, that trust wasn't misplaced, but even if it was, denying my feelings had only hurt Anthony and I both. It had to end.
"Anthony, I'm sure this will be considered entirely too forward for me to say as a lady, but... I rather think I love you. You challenge me in a way no other man ever has, and when we are aligned, our teamwork knows no equal. There may be other men who would treat me well, and there may even be other men who would respect me as a partner, but none of them would be you. You, Anthony... you are my perfect match. And if I've led you to believe I hated you, then I am truly sorry. I assure you I do not."
Anthony just stared back at me, not taking his eyes off me the entire time I spoke. He didn't respond right away after I finished, still just staring, his expression unreadable. I started to sweat and fidget, immediately regretting my words and wishing I could take them back.
"You know, Anthony, actually-"
Before I could finish the thought, Anthony rushed to close the rest of the distance between us, sweeping me off my feet and spinning me around in his arms. I yelped, but when he set me down, we both had massive smiles on our faces.
"I apologize. That was rather improper of me," he said, not sounding the least bit sorry. I smiled back and leaned into him a little more.
"No more improper than my confession, or your brothers locking us in this room together."
Anthony hummed, leaning into me and pulling me close to him again, one hand tangling in my hair as he murmured into my ear.
"I feel the same, you know. I have for some time. I just never imagined that you would care for me as much as I cared for you."
I smiled, wrapping my arms tight around Anthony and holding him close. After a few seconds, we pulled apart, and although I wanted to kiss him, badly, I held back. We'd already crossed quite a few scandalous lines, after all. And now that I knew he felt the same way as I did, I didn't think I'd have to wait long for our courtship to make quite a few more things I wanted to do 'acceptable'.
"I suppose we owe your brothers a thank you for getting us to confess our feelings to each other," I said with a sigh. Anthony scoffed.
"Absolutely not. They still tricked us and physically locked us in a room. No matter how happy I am with the results, they deserve some payback."
I grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that."
Anthony led me back over to his desk where the two of us sat shoulder to shoulder, plotting and planning the downfall of his brothers. I had no idea how long they intended to leave us in this room, but every additional minute meant more time to plan revenge.
Happily, it also meant more time with Anthony. And with any luck, the rest of my life would be filled with more time with Anthony.
****************
Everything Taglist: @rosecentury
#fictober23#bridgerton#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton oneshot#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton oneshot#anthony bridgerton imagine#regency era#the bridgerton family#the bridgertons#benedict bridgerton#colin bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#the bridgerton siblings#the bridgerton brothers#viscount bridgerton#viscount anthony bridgerton
362 notes
·
View notes
Text
Awakening
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: You experience an awakening a few days into your arranged marriage with the Viscount.
Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, female masturbation, slightly dom/sub (use of little one/my lord), innocence, corruption kink, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m to f).
Word Count: 3.4k
Authors Note: Unbetaed. Request fill for Anon, HERE, about Anthony being arranged married to an innocent reader. Sorry it's taken me so long to write this, Nonny, but I hope you still enjoy it, even though I changed the parameters of the request slightly. Enjoy <3
Viscount Anthony Bridgerton is most perplexing.
He is all at once both the best and the worst person you know. A providing husband, but an absent one. A polite, undisputable gentleman, but one who has barely said more than a handful of words to you, his supposed wife. An arrangement was brokered with your father, and now, merely weeks later, you are walking the halls of Aubrey Hall as the new Viscountess Bridgerton but barely feel as if you know your husband.
The night before your wedding, you had received a very vague talk from your mother about how you should expect your new husband to enter your bedchamber and perform his “spousal rights” and that, as his wife, you must allow whatever he decides to do. You still have no earthly idea what that might mean; your room has never once yet seen his presence—on that night or, indeed, any of the four nights since. Part of you worries you have somehow failed to be the wife he needs; part of you is relieved he has not done anything to you that you must endure in some way.
There is one thing you are certain of, though. While Anthony may be distant, almost an absence from your life, always busy with some business or other, there is no doubt you find his countenance pleasing. He is so very dashing and handsome. Earlier today, he swept in from a hunt wearing very tight tan breeches, and the sight caused a funny, warm tingling low in your gut. Between your legs, really. He nodded politely as he swept past you in the hallway, continuing his discussion with his brother as he did so. You twist to watch his retreating figure, wishing you could have the opportunity to speak with him, but the view of his shapely bottom in those tight trousers is at least partial compensation.
So as you lay under the covers on your fifth night alone, your ladies' maids having brushed your hair and taken their leave, you sigh deeply and snuggle into the crispy white sheets. Your thoughts turn to your husband again and that outfit he was wearing. The way those trousers clung to him, the movement of muscle as he strode purposefully. And that sensation rears again—the pulsing between your legs. It seems like your body needs something, but you do not know what. Flushed for some reason, you push away the covers. Before you know it, curiosity has the better of you. While you replay the image of him walking in your mind, your legs fall apart, your hand reflexively falling between them to provide a remedy—almost like an itch you need to scratch.
Your fingers slide through folds of flesh there, and strangely, there is unfamiliar sticky dampness. When you pass your fingers over a particular spot where your two lips meet, you get a pleasurable spike that makes your mouth slack.
Oh.
Almost without meaning to, you keep touching that spot, a call and response that is impossible to resist. The more you rub right there, your body swelling slightly under your movements, the better you feel. A languid buzz in your brain that feels both stimulating and relaxing. When your husband's image pops into your head again, everything suddenly gets sharper and more urgent. And so you do. You think of him. His handsome face, the way his forearms flex when you sit across from him at dinner, and he eats with his sleeves rolled up and again those legs and bottom in those tight trousers. Tumbling images that speed up in your mind as your fingers do the same, powerless to resist.
You are soon gasping and writhing, yet you do not stop; it feels too good. Something almost violent happens in your body, your lungs restricting, your brain buzzing, and suddenly, with a crest of physical delight, you are experiencing something completely novel. There is a squeezing, rippling inside, and you cry out as a remarkable ecstasy takes your body. When eventually the feeling subsides, you collapse back down, panting and bewildered; your whole body flushed, your fingers, still resting between your legs, wettened with a slick substance that could only have come from within you.
Whatever just happened, it's nothing you have been told about before. Not fully understanding, all you know is you want to experience it again. It's addictive, powerful, and so very relaxing once over. You instantly fall into a deep, sated slumber and wake up the most refreshed you have felt in many months.
And so it becomes a habit.
Whenever you feel the need and have a private moment, you retire to your room and touch your body until you feel that pinnacle—often thinking upon the Viscount as you do so. His name even falls from your lips, breathy, almost a tasty morsel, as you find your peak. It is no longer something you only do when you retire to bed for the night. You find yourself doing so any time of day, whenever the mood strikes you, an addictive, fun, illicit thrill. You wonder idly if such a thing is taboo, but you struggle to believe something that feels so good could ever be unacceptable behaviour as long as you are in private, alone.
One week after your wedding, on an uneventful afternoon, you put down your needlework and huff a sigh, your eyes drawn by movement outside. There, riding towards the house at speed across the lawn is Anthony. It's a sunny summer day; he wears only a shirt billowing in the breeze with sleeves pushed up around his elbows. And again, those tan breeches flexing around his legs as the horse gallops, him moving with the beast in a rhythmic motion. Time seems to stand still as you are inexorably drawn to the window to watch the sight coming closer and closer. The whole time your breath becomes more rapid, that telltale throbbing between your legs flares. You decide there is only one course of action.
When he veers off to the left towards the stables to the side of the house, you turn heel and run up the stairs. Keen to have that incredible high. This new, enthralling image will be the star of your thoughts this time. You pass his valet on the stairs and politely nod before scurrying and closing your bedroom door behind you.
You drop your underwear onto the floor, hitching up your dress and chemise around your hips as you throw yourself onto your bed, not even bothering to pull back the bedspread, so very keen to touch yourself.
It doesn't take much, that familiar slick already there, painting your fingers as you slide them against your nub, one hand reaching behind to grasp the headboard as you writhe on your fingers, all thoughts of Anthony and that repetitive bouncing motion of him upon his steed. So wrapped up in pleasure, his name on your lips, you do not hear the knob turning and the door opening.
“My valet told me you were here….” his loud baritone voice rings out around the room but grinds to a halt mid-sentence.
You squeal in surprise; the star of your fantasies standing right before you, skin sunkissed and his hair tousled from his ride, a look of utter shock painting his face.
Instinctively, you clamp your knees together and attempt to push down your dress, but it’s too little, too late. He has seen exactly what you were doing, and now he looks distressed, hIs breathing uneven.
“Did you…. Did you say my name?” The tone is not one you have heard from him before, rough but straining.
You sit up slightly and avert your gaze downwards, abashed he has interrupted your private moment.
“Yes,” you confess quietly.
He takes a hesitant step forward towards the bed and swallows heavily.
“You were touching yourself? And... and saying my name?” he looks almost winded.
“Yes,” again, it's soft, and you chew your lower lip, thinking perhaps you are about to be chastised. He certainly looks very… agitated.
“Do you know what you are doing to yourself?” he blurts out, a vein in his forehead prominent as he locks his jaw.
“Not really,” you admit, “only that when I think of you, I get an ache between my legs, and it feels wonderful when I touch it.”
He makes a strangled noise and closes his eyes, his head tipping back slightly.
“I… I did not expect to consummate yet,” he mutters heavily, “I thought I had more time.” He seems to be talking to himself as much as you.
“What does that mean? Consummate?” you inquire, your mother's words coming to the forefront. Perhaps this is what she was referring to.
“As your husband, I have perhaps been neglectful of my spousal duties,” he says slowly, his head tipping back down to look at you, his eyes intense.
“Duties?” you frown.
“What you were doing to yourself…” he begins, moving closer now so he stands by the bed, “it is because you desire me. I had not considered that may be the case.” He twists his mouth into a thoughtful pout, but you do not miss how he seems to stare at your breasts as they rise and fall inside your stays. “But now that I know it is true… it… changes things.”
“How?” you look up at him, wanting to understand.
A smirk tugs at the left corner of his mouth. “It means there are things I can teach you, things you should know that can happen between a man and a woman. Things you will find pleasurable, just like when you touch yourself. It is my responsibility, as your husband, to show you such things now.” His hand reaches out, and you inhale sharply as it lands upon your raised knee.
“You make it sound more like an obligation than something you want to do,” you respond, voice wavering at the distraction his hand is causing, the viscous throbbing between your legs even heavier now.
“Oh, nothing could be further from the truth; I want to, now that I know you desire it too.” His voice is a soft thrum that makes your nipples peak and a shiver run down your spine.
“Why have you not come to me before, husband?” it sounds breathy even to your ears.
“I thought you disliked me. That this was an arrangement you were enduring. That I should be polite and respectful. Keep my distance, at the least, until you adjust to your new life as Viscountess. Until an heir is needed. But now I know that is not the case…”
His voice is a pleasant low rumble as his hand starts to move, slightly calloused fingertips skirting the soft skin of your inner thigh, your dress and chemise bunching around his toned forearm as he does so.
“What are you…?” your breath quickening now.
“Shhhh, Viscountess, let me help you,” he hushes, and you stare at him with wide eyes as his warm fingers reach your folds. He hisses at the heat and wetness he finds there. “Oh, you really do like me,” he purrs, and something in you makes you lean slowly back onto the padded plush headboard, unable to look away from his face.
“Yes…” you whimper as his thumb, much broader than yours, makes a sideways swipe over your swollen nub.
“How often?” he murmurs, shifting to take a seat on the bed next to you, his thumb never wavering in its slow, intoxicating rhythm,
“How often wh-what?” You stutter, rapidly losing the ability to form words as your body riots, grasping the bedspread on either side of you, scarcely believing how amazing it feels when someone else touches you, especially him.
“How often do you touch yourself and think of me?” his voice gravelly.
“Everyday… so-sometimes m-more than once,” you pant out, your lips tingling, holding his fiery gaze.
“Oh, you naughty little thing,” he growls, and it sets your face aflame. “Touching yourself multiple times a day and thinking of me. Do you reach a peak every time?”
“Y-yes, my lord….”
His eyes flash; he leans in closer so you can smell spiced cologne and traces of his natural body scent, heightened from his riding exertions.
“Please call me that when I'm touching you,” he asks, but it almost sounds like an order, one you are happy to obey.
“Yes, my lord,” you respond instantly.
“Good little one,” he compliments, and the praise makes something bloom inside you, an urgent want to please him.
He changes his thumb’s motion to a circular pattern and presses more insistently. You gasp loud, glancing down at the slight of his toned arm flexing as he moves, his fingers obscured by your dress rucked up around his wrist.
“Tell me, have you put your fingers inside yourself?” his tone still velvety.
“No? What do you mean? I just,” you pause to whimper, “do as you are right now.”
His face turns into a handsome smirk you can't look away from.
“Would you like to find out how it feels to have someone inside your body, little one?” The question is molten, and you swear your entire skin feels too heated and tight.
You just nod, snagging your lower lip with your tooth, and then your eyes bulge as a finger slips lower and presses into a fleshy barrier that resists his touch.
“I can feel you are still intact, a chaste maiden indeed,” he rumbles, and part of you wonders what that means, but you do not ask. “Luckily, there is just enough of an opening for me to do this…”
You moan as a single finger pushes a fraction into your body, something completely novel and profound. You stare at him open-mouthed
“Oh, my dear little thing, I have barely even put the tip of my finger inside and look at you. Wait until it's my cock,” he warns darkly.
“Your what?”
He grabs your hand off the bedding and guides it to the junction of his thighs. Something is hot and hard under there, and you cannot hide your shock even as your hand curls around it and squeezes instinctually.
He growls. “That’s it, feel it. My cock is going to go inside you, right here….” he lectures, and his finger that was teasing pushes deeper into your pussy, aided by the pool of wetness leaking from within.
Again you moan at the invasion, and he looks so proud, pumping the digit slowly as his thumb restarts its movements on your clit.
“Oh my god,” you exclaim in a harsh whisper, the feeling so utterly mindblowing.
“No, your lord,” he corrects, preening from what he can do to your body.
“My l-lord….” you amend stutteringly.
He nods his approval and leans over you, his breath warm on your face as he observes your expressions, gauging your response to each move he makes. It's so overwhelming that he is touching you inside and outside your body.
You are rapidly losing the ability to do anything besides make noises and chase sensation; your knees falling further apart, your hand still on his cock, pressing unconsciously with the same rhythm his fingers play your body. He glances down at his lap, his other hand moving from its grip on your wrist to cover yours, his hips tilting a fraction, pressing more insistently into your palm.
“Would you like to come right now?” his breath almost as ragged as yours.
“W-what is that?” you stumble.
He huffs a bemused sound. “When you reach your peak, little one. It is called coming.”
“Yes, please, my lord,” you answer the instant you understand, spiralling fast now, your lungs heaving, your slit hot and slippery, where he teases you.
“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, and you obey instantly.
He gently removes your hand from his cock, and his fingers slip out of your body. You sense movement on the bed, and he manhandles your feet outwards and upwards towards your hips. Cotton brushing the back of your thighs, and a wave of warm air across your inner thighs, so open and exposed now. A few seconds later, you feel something entirely new— a wet, hot, thick mass sliding through your folds unlike anything else. Your eyes fly open, and you startle to see that Anthony has crawled between your legs and his head is now buried at the apex of your thighs. Then you cry out as he does the same thing again, realising he is using his tongue.
“What the….?” you can't even complete the sentence.
“It is not just my fingers I can use, little one,” he tutors, his tone dusky, his breath hot on the patch of hair between your legs as he pulls up slightly to talk, his eyes burning into yours.
You watch, mesmerised, as he flattens his tongue wide and lowers his face to lick a long strip through your entire slit, morphing into a spear as he maps your clit, swirling around all sides. It's so intense your channel flutters, wishing his fingers were still inside you.
“Yes, that is it, you like that, do you not? Come on,” he coaxes as he takes a deep breath, inhaling your body scent. The way he is handling you, so absorbed in you, a euphoric feeling burns behind your ribs at the idea he wants your pleasure.
He envelopes your clitoral hood and sucks hard. His eyes flashing with pride as he has to grab your hips and hold you down, your back arching off the bed, crying out without caring if anyone can hear. The way he growls as you do so tells you exactly how much he wants to hear it, his pride that he can do this to you.
Something primal washes over you as he bites gently on your swollen clit, holding it between his teeth as you feel two fingers at your entrance pushing in, making you cry as you stretch around him, your body accommodating them even as you feel so filled.
“Anthony… Anthony, my lord,” you chant repeatedly as he holds you down with one strong arm and rocks his fingers shallowly into your body, his tongue swirling. It’s a sight that you can’t look away from. His hips flex into the bed almost involuntarily, as if his cock needs friction, too.
You feel that tide rising somehow more potent when orchestrated by him, a white-hot burning where he plays you and a tension in all your muscles.
“Give it to me,” he snarls, muffled, feeling the ripples around your clit and pussy against his face and fingers.
He redoubles his efforts, almost mercilessly lashing you with his tongue, varying pressure and speed. Entirely without meaning to, your hands fly into his hair, loving the sensation of thick curls sinking between your fingers as you grasp his strands, making him cry out right into your body. And it’s precisely what you need.
Every fibre of your being held taut and shaking now snaps, the pressure inside you like a dam breaking, so much more intense than you have ever experienced from just your fingers. Something almost inexplicable, ephemeral, your body experiencing a hundred different things firing at once. Your world contracting and exploding. You can feel your own heartbeat in your extremities, a rush of blood in your ears, eyes screwed shut as you shudder under him, and yet he moves with you as your hips roll in waves, his mouth never leaving your body. You know you are leaking onto his face, your inside clenching powerfully around his fingers. Dimly, you are aware the noises you make are loud, but you find yourself unable to prevent it and don't even want to.
As you recover, he crawls over your prone body as you lay there panting, fundamentally changed in the sharing of this experience with him, of him to be the one to make your body reach its peak. A true awakening of your senses.
It’s then he kisses you for the first time since a cursory brush of lips at the altar on your wedding day. His face musky with your juices, his lips hot, soft and damp as they press to yours. This is so different to that kiss. It's lingering and hot, his lips plush on yours.
His handsome face breaks into a dazzling smile as he looms over you, the back of his hand gently brushing down your cheekbone as you stare up at him dazed, the taste of yourself seeping through your lips. “Rest for now, my dear wife.” His tone is softer now, the use of wife instead of little one making your breath catch. “I shall return tonight, and you shall become a woman,” his voice laden with untold promise.
Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies @Mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23
#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton smut#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x female reader#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton x y/n#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton smut#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton#1k notes#1k notes omg you guys!#2k notes holy crap you guys!#2k notes
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Not enough: Anthony Bridgerton x reader
(Part 2 to too much)
„I am so terribly sorry for the inconvenience I might have brought on you with my sudden appearance-” she started while walking inside the place of her destination or, to put it more bluntly, after fleeting from her own house upon not-so-subtle fight with her still-husband.
„Y/n! Nonsense my dear, your presence is always welcomed here.” she heard in response and for the first time since the argument she managed to look into the eyes of another person as well as take in the scene in front of her.
Oh dear lord!
Her timing couldn’t be more wrong.
Apparently the only person who was missing from the widow viscountess Bridgerton household was the queen herself, since not only the lady of the house alongside with all her unmarried daughters were enjoying the afternoon tea, but - to Y/N’s very well hidden terror - the duchess and lady Danburry were present as well.
„duchess.” Y/N bowed in the most polite manner she could even though her knees were shaking „lady Danburry.”
Act like nothing happened.
Behave like a lady and not like a little kid, who came her to pour all her worries and tell on her husband who happened to be mean. The last thing she needed was for everyone to talk about her nervousness and giddiness. None of those ladies would be easily fooled and most definitely not lady Danburry with her nosy nature and piercing gaze.
The point was to visit her favourite sister-in-law Eloise who- luckily - were free of any marriage troubles and gain some perspective but that scenario flew away with the gentle summer breeze faster than Y/N could think.
And now she would be kindly invited to join the tea and the respect for widower viscountess alongside with the obligation to the higher positioned duchess (even if family) would forbid her from declining.
„Y/N.” Daphne sent her that tiny, quite shy smile that didn’t calm the nerves even in the slightest. Yes, the duchess was one of the most polite and subtle person in the society, but she was also happily married with another baby on the way.
„Viscountess Bridgerton.” the oldest, lady Danburry on the opposite was known from her sharp tongue and straightforward attitude. That one did not pull her punches.
„My dearest Y/N.” Violet Bridgerton, the mother in law stood up from her place and hugged the girl close. Obviously she was the most open one with her emotions. And the simple warm welcome made Y/n feel a bit strengthened to the point when she even gave a little smile. Tiniest, but honest and still visible.
„Is Anthony with you my dear?’
„Unfortunately my husband is absorbed with the matter of the household today.” Y/N explained, taking a seat next to Violet. „I was rather confused with all the men’s affairs, which brought me here.”
„confused?” Eloise, of whose presence everyone seemed to forget scoffed from her book „You are way smarter that Anthony is, Y/n!”
„Eloise!” her mother friendly scolded her second daughter
„It’s true mama!”
„Even though-’
„Did you come baring notices by any chance, viscountess?" lady Agatha cut into the family exchange innocently taking a sip of her tea, those sharp eyes of a predator glistening
„Notices?”
„Yes viscountess, notices. It;s been a fair amount of time since the marriage, surely something should happen soon between two people who are lucky enough to be in love as much as yo and the viscount?”
Oh...
Oh, she meant that kind of notices.
„May this be so, Y/n?” Daphne asked seeming uncharacteristically brisk. „shall we expect?”
„I certainly hope she won’t be burdened with the heir to the title any time soon--”
‘Eloise!”
„Is it the only purpose of a woman to be obedient to a man and give him children?!”
All the four older woman in the room went quiet and Eloise realised she might have had said a little bit too much. Not only for the lady but in general.
„I suppose our dearest Y/N would love to become a mother and bless us with the little boy or girl, am I correct?”
Of course I would love to, Violet.
I would love to.
Unfortunately so it happens your oldest son refuses to even speak or look at me, let alone performing his so-called marital duty. Which is even more tragic, since I became one to him. Here is the essence of my existence - forever being reminded of the burden I put on his shoulder with storming into his life.
Obviously those thoughts were something the newest viscountess Bridgerton could not form out loud.
„I shall send the regards to my husband ladies. Certainly will not omit to inform him of the expectation placed upon us both.” was the only thing she managed to say with confidence before her voice broke and she covered the sudden wavering by reaching for the sweet placed on the nearby platter.
„Oh my dearest Y/N, it’s no obligation!” Violet seemed quite hurt by the words spoken by her daughter-in-law „Regardless - a child is always a miracle that-”
„Maybe Y/N wouldn’t have to worry about it, if Anthony were taking more interest in her rather than spending time with Benny and Colin.”
„Eloise!”
„It’s just a simple observation! Benedict and Colin are still bachelors, even though the ladies of kind are sharpening their claws for them both, considering the fact the viscountess title is not longer available. Nonetheless, neither of them seem to be interested in taking in marriage-”
‘Eloise!” Violet called upon her daughter once more
„Perhaps if they weren’t spending their times in the club, effectively convincing Anthony to go with them--”
‘Enough, young lady!”
„But-”
„Enough Eloise.”
Y/N went pale at all the words spoken. Not because of their truthfulness, but due to the fact that the word already got out. This was a calamity she was trying her best to cover up and now her favourite member of the family announced them to the world, not thinking about the possible consequences of aforementioned action.
„Y/N, are you quite all right?” Daphne was the first one to take some action „that sudden pallor cannot be good for you. Shall we take a walk?”
Naturally the little stroll around the room will be something to make her feel better. Luckily the most perceptive Eloise noticed the torpid expression on the viscountess face and, not giving her sister any chance to press the matter further, vigorously explained that Daphne certainty meant an actual promenade outside on the manor grounds and that was something y/n was more than delighted to engage in.
Presenting a perfect opportunity to actually indulge in a meaningful conversation not regarding children and submission due to a woman.
***
On the other side of the city Anthony didn’t even notice his wife’s actual absence.
How could he, when she was always present and vivid in his mind, leaving him with her image in front of his eyes even when she was away from him.
Y/N’s face and silhouette, her smile and her resonant, joyful laughter were forever carved in his mind, ever since the day she laughed at him at the lake upon their first meeting, through the first moment of stolen forbidden intimacy, up to the moment looked into her eyes while vowing to love and to cherish her.
His beautiful bride.
His beautiful wife.
Strong willed, hot headed, always having an opinion of her own and doing things her own way, capable to charm everyone with the cheerful character and most natural humor and intelligence.
All the traits that could not be bought by any of the obedient, quiet and shy ladies from high society.
All the traits that put him under her spell and made him want to spend the rest of his life with Y/n.
Only with her.
And he didn’t want to fight, he wanted the same kind of marriage his own parents were joyful to share.
It was all so perfect, until the moment those bright memories got covered with storm clouds of how he behave towards her.
Not that the viscount gave them much thoughts, too lost in his own meaningless settlements that were not due till the fore-coming month.
It was easier this way.
Forgetting about all the words he said int he moment of anger and of fear (if not mere terror) of his own emotions.
Emotions that, unfortunately, refused to be closed in a hard shell of harsh, obsessive behaviour and being ignored.
Once let out, they wanted to run free.
And oh, so they did, causing the viscount to feel dizzy and giving him palpitations.
All the marriages had their bad moments.
It was impossible to continue for years keeping the same flame that started years ago.
The wife was supposed to be obedient and comply with her husband wishes, especially not bothering him with her presence and whimsical needs or fairy-tell beliefs.
A lady was a diamond in the crown but a wife became a part of the estate, of the livestock. Forever in her husband’s hand to rule.
He was the the man.
He was the viscount and before he met her she was just another long-forgotten by admirers débutante desperate to--
No.
No this was not true and as much as it would be comfortable for Anthony to dwell in all those thoughts, his heart was still in the right place giving him a very clear signal it was time to stop justifying his previous action. Those were the foundation for a very unstable and fragile house that could be blown away easily.
Maybe it wasn’t that his emotions were too much. Maybe it was that his heart capacity was not enough to contain the amount of affection he held for his one and only.
His Y/N.
And he couldn’t have that.
He had to find her wherever she might have been.
He had to fight for her and make it all right.
Even if that meant getting back on his knees, making a scene straight out of those unrealistic romance novels ladies loved and putting it into practice.
„Where on earth is my wife?!” he yelled to the servants, opening the door to his office, his voice loud enough to make the walls shake.
I’m coming for you, my viscountess.
My love.
***
It's not over yet!
Edit: part 3 : almost there
@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4
@gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm
@bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @cat-lockwood @pr3ttyfac3jaelyn
#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton fic#bridgerton angst
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Are you going to make a part3 if to be alone with you?
To Be Alone With You Part 3
Anthony Bridgerton x female!sharma!sister!reader
Benedict Bridgerton x female!sharma!sister!reader
Warnings: Angst, smut, sexual tension, scandalous behavior, oral (f)
Summary: You can't have Anthony as he is betrothed to Edwina but his younger brother is slightly more inviting.
Tag List: @shealuna, @m-rae23, @littlepeanut03, @aellabridgerton, @sydney-m, @faatxma, @wildthoughtnananna
He is marrying your sister. He is engaged to your sister. He is to be her husband. You thought all of these things as you sat across from him, watching him make Edwina smile and laugh at a joke he said. You were fuming for some reason. Sure, he was the first man you ever laid with or kissed but he belonged to Edwina.
You turn to Benedict and smile shyly at him.
"Hello, how are you, Mr. Bridgerton?" You whispered.
"Please, call me Benedict," He said with a laugh, "I've been quite fine. How are you, Miss Sharma?"
You giggle slightly.
"Well, Ben, I have been swell. I have just been very lonely and I was thinking that I could accompany you to your art studio for a drawing?"
Anthony looked up from Edwina and watched you tilt your head back with a laugh and his lip twitched just slightly. He did not find your hand on Benedict at all the slightest of endearment. Benedict smiled and nodded. The two of you stood and left the room together to his studio.
---
"If you would, please lay like this." Benedict showed you how. You were completely clothed but every time the younger Bridgerton brother looked at you, it lit a flame in your belly.
"Like this?" You ask.
"Yes," He said breathlessly.
He moved to his canvas and started to sketch your figure but you felt the tension in the air. There was something that you wanted to do. Just to see how far he would be able to handle before he caved.
"Benedict," You start. He looked up to your eyes. "I feel as though it would be more accurate if I were to be wearing less."
He gulped quickly and nodded. "If that is what you wish."
You stood up and crossed the room to stand in front of him. You looked up at him, eyes locking as you press a hand on his chest. You spin around.
"Will you help me?" You felt him freeze behind you. You smile slightly at the thought of his hands on you. You needed to forget his brother and the fact that he was the one you really wanted. You needed to think realistically. Edwina was going to marry Anthony and you needed to find someone else as he had.
"Of course, Miss Sharma."
His hands froze in the air, slightly above your waist. Never touching. You reach back, head turning to look at him, and grabbed his wrists to place his hands on the corset. He shuddered and closed his eyes to breathe out deeply.
"Ben..."
"Do not rush me," He said with strain lacing his voice.
His hands move to pull the ribbons from the loops that they held the corset together by and you felt the dress loosening. The fabric of your dress loosened so it could slip from your shoulders and you shuddered at the sudden air on your bare skin.
"Do you wish for me to continue?" He asked, something that you never heard in his voice dripped from his tongue like honey.
"Yes," You whispered.
"Speak up, young lady. Do you want me to continue?"
"Yes, Benedict."
He pulled the fabric away from your body and each inch revealed new skin to him. His hands glided over your supple skin as he slowly undressed you. The tension was suffocating. You couldn't breathe but you didn't want to. You wanted this. You need this. You need him.
Your hands reach up and pull your hair from the pin that held it up. Your hair fell down your shoulders in waves and Benedict was enchanted. He felt as if you were bewitching him. You felt so right in his hands. His project. His canvas.
He put his hands on your bare shoulder blades and pushed you slightly forward so he could crouch down to lift your feet from the fabric that puddled down on the floor.
He lifted one leg and perched it on his knee. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to it. He did the same with the other. He then stood up and ran his hand down your neck to push the hair from the area.
---
You moved back to the couch, breasts laying softly on your chest as it moved with each breath. You were not nervous at the way that Benedict was looking at you. He looked at you with a look of hunger. A look that his brother shared for you.
"Is there anything you need me to do?" You asked, watching his eyes struggle to look you in the eyes.
"No, just sit there and relax."
You did just that but you closed your eyes.
"Open those pleasing eyes for me, darling." He held the charcoal in his hand.
You opened your eyes and locked them with his. It felt like hours as he drew you, making sure to get every detail correct. Your breathing quickened every time his eyes ran down your body, memorizing every curve and line as if he will never see it again.
He stopped.
"Do I make you nervous, darling?" He smirked. He moved closer to you, stalking to you as you laid on the couch helplessly.
"No."
"Are you sure?" He smiled, bending down to be level with your face.
"Yes." You were in no way sure.
"Permission to touch you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," You practically moan.
---
He doesn't touch you where you were expecting. He wasn't like Anthony. He started at your neck. He ran his hands up and down it, pressing lightly at your sweet spot. He changed the different pressures. He moved his hands down to your breasts, your nipples to be more precise. He rubbed the pebbled bud in between his thumb and index finger. It made your pussy throb.
"If I were to touch you where I shouldn't, what would I find?" He tilted his head with a smile as he watched your body react to his touch. "Would you be soaked like a harlot to my touch or would you be a good, a true good girl and be cleanly dry?"
You looked at him when he gave a hard tug on your breast.
"Answer me, I asked a question."
"Wet, Mr. Bridgerton."
"It's sir." He corrected you as he moved to play with your other nipple.
"Yes, sir."
"Permission to put my mouth on you?"
"God yes," You cry as he places his tongue on your neck. Licking at the salty skin before moving to your collarbones to suck. He kisses your neck one last time before taking a breast into his awaiting mouth. Your back arches into him and your hands grab the back of his head to press him closer to your body.
Benedict picks you up to reposition your body to have your hips hanging off the couch and he knelt in between your spread legs. He looks at you and then licks a bold strip up your pussy.
You moan loudly as he moves his tongue against you. He made measured movements, licking at your sensitive clit before moving in circular motions. He added his thumb to your clit and his tongue dipped inside of you. He pressed and pressed his tongue against your g-spot and your legs shook on his shoulders.
"Look at me," he groaned into you. "Please look at me as I give you the pleasure you deserve and so desperately crave.''
You look down at him and his blue eyes stare back at you. He moves his mouth to take your clit into his mouth and he sucked it, hard. Your body arches and he places his arm to pin your hips down to the couch. He presses his face further into you, if that was possible, and his nose brushed against your core every time his jaw moved as he ate you like a starved man. Your moans began to become hard to contain as you held his head to you. You moaned his name as if it was the only thing you knew.
You felt your orgasm coming fast and you didn't have enough time to warn him as you climaxed on his face. He held your hips tighter as you rode your orgasm in waves. He kept licking and sucking at you. He kept going. He wouldn't stop. He made you have ripples of each orgasm that rolled over you. He made you feel boneless. As if you would just slide right off that couch if he let you go.
----
He grabbed your dress and helped you put it back on in a half-assed way. You both made a run to your bedroom and he held the door open when you went to close it.
"Come here," He whisper.
You moved to him, opening the door.
"Come by my room tomorrow after the ball."
You nodded.
His hands came up to your face, caressing your cheeks. He cupped your face and then leaned down to press his lips against yours for the first time. He hadn't kissed you at all during the art session you had. His lips were soft and warm as they moved against yours gently.
"I'll see you tomorrow tonight," He said before pressing a kiss one last time for the night to your lips. "Oh, and please, do not forget about coming to see me."
And with that he left with a smile on his lips. You turn into your room and can't stop smiling. You felt good. You felt excited but you could not help but remember your love for his older brother, your soon to be brother-in-law. You shake the thought away from you and fall asleep with a dreamy smile on your face.
#anthony bridgerton x sharma!reader#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x female!reader#bridgerton smut#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton smut
437 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gentle
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, panic attack, fluff hehe, Anthony being the sweet husband ik he is
A.N: Hello my loves and hello dearest anon ^-^/! This one is a bit on the shorter side (2.5k words) but I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope I gave you what you wanted Nonnie. I imagine Anthony (I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE SEASON 3 MARRIED ANT AND KATE) as a protective and loving husband, who is also extremely gentle when he wants to be. Also, Infatuation pt two is in the works, for those that are eager (thank you btw <3 T-T) it should be out by next week at the latest. P.S I am planning on uploading at least twice a week hehe! Enjoy my dears! <3
Req found here <3
Marrying a Viscount was always going to be stressful, it came with responsibility. As well as a certain necessity to be perfect, at least that is the thought that nagged you. It was only a matter of time before the stress of being Anthony Bridgerton's wife caught up to you.
You had honeymooned in Edinburgh and Bath, all of the usual quiet places. He wished to make it just that, quiet and peaceful as both of you knew that would be one of the only times you would live in that blissful silence. Without worry of gossip, or rumors, or responsibilities.
Anthony also knew that you had a tendency to be anxious. Whether it be a result of how many people were present at a ball, or the rumors that tended to linger in your mind even after they slowly washed away from others. He wanted to show you the sights, and the gorgeous nature that was present in both of the cities that he had selected.
He also wished to show you the city of Bath. Take you to one of the large Roman baths, parade you around town, and wander the hills for hours on end. All lovely things that had taken your mind away from the lingering anxieties of being the new Viscountess.
It had worked marvelously, you had been the happiest he had seen you ever since you had met. You were completely in your element, especially when you were outside. It was a very loving, and freeing six months away.
Your leg jiggles as you fiddle with your gloves, looking out the window of the carriage as it rolls down the road to Aubery Hall. As soon as you had gotten back to England, your anxieties flooded back into your mind. You were already dreading what was going to happen. You and Anthony were already planning to attend a ball tomorrow, the first one of your marriage.
You hated it, you knew that people would talk, the women would glare and whisper, perhaps even confront you. You did not want to deal with it. You wished to be back in Bath, having a picnic with your husband, far away from the gossip.
You feel a hand on your knee and turn. "You have been antsy for four whole hours, my love. What is it?" He asks, moving his hand to yours and giving it a squeeze. You chew on your bottom lip and settle for resting your head on his shoulder. "I am only nervous for the ball tomorrow." You whisper.
"The ball, or the people?" He returns, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before tilting your chin up so he can look at you. You frown slightly and he gives a comforting grin. "They will talk, you know that, but none of it will matter. It is just that, talk." He murmurs before pressing a quick kiss to your lips.
"But what if... you leave and then I am alone and one of them tries to-" You begin, but he cuts you off swiftly with another kiss. A longer one, but still as sweet as before. You sigh and rest your forehead against his. "You are so much more capable than you know, Y/N. You are the perfect Viscountess and the perfect Bridgerton. None of them shall ever be able to take either of those two things away from you." He whispers.
You smile as your cheeks heat up from his speech. "You are mine, mine to protect and mine to love. I take that duty very seriously." He finishes, cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch and smile. "I love you." You whisper back and he grins. "And I love you." He returns.
Tomorrow comes all too quick, and soon you are in the large closet in your master bedroom, your maids pulling on the strings of your corset to get it to your liking. Anthony, however, waits downstairs in his study already dressed up fully for the occasion.
You had promised to try and be quick, and he knows you tried to keep that promise. He also knew that you wanted to look perfect, so he did not mind being a bit late to the ball. He wished for you to be as comfortable as you could be. After about thirty minutes of waiting, he had sent his family ahead, promising to meet them there.
He would be lying if tonight was a relaxed night for him. He was a ball of nerves, but he knew how to hide them well. He was not nervous for him, no, he was nervous for you.
He knew that you were perfect, and all of the much older and married members of the ton did as well. It was the cruel debutantes he worried about. He knew that many of them would be bitter, even if they were not interested in him. It was many women's third or fourth social season, many women would take that out on any kind soul they could find, and you were the kindest.
He downs his glass of scotch and adjusts his cravat before standing up and going to the bottom of the staircase. He wanted to see you now, and he would not wait another second. Just as he is about to call out, you appear at the top of the steps, dressed in the infamous Bridgerton blues.
The gown is a gorgeous navy blue, and you have paired it with long, white, silk gloves. Your hair is pulled back in his favorite way, an elegant pin holding it up in an elaborate bun. To tie it all together, you are wearing the diamond necklace and earrings he bought you in Edinburgh. So simple, yet so incredibly beautiful. So you.
You smile at him as you walk down the stairs and he just about dies right there. "My God, you look ethereal." He whispers as he offers you his arm. You gladly take it and he grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leading you to the carriage.
The driver opens the door of the carriage once the two of you arrive at Lady Danbury's grand estate. You look out at the many other women and men filing out of their carriages and feel a familiar sense of dread, causing you to gnaw on the skin on the inside of your cheek.
"Darling?" He asks after a moment and you look up, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment once you realize he has probably been holding his hand out for you for some time. "Sorry." You mumble, before taking his hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet and help you out of the carriage.
The two of you walk hand in hand into the ballroom, which is bustling with activity. However, when the Viscount and his new bride enter, all of the chattering halts. The eery silence makes you wrap your arms around one of his, the sense of dread looming over your head only getting more intense.
He notices and moves down, kissing you softly on the lips. Part of it is for show, of course, but part of it is also because he knows that it will calm your nerves down to a point where you can manage them. He just knows, always.
He pulls away. "Come on, we are going to make this boring night a good one, hm?" He murmurs. You smile gently and nod, walking deeper into the ball. You hear the whispers, the cruel words from the other women, but choose to ignore them for now.
The two of you arrive at the space on the floor where his family stands. He lets go of your arm with a kiss on your cheek and enters a conversation with Colin. You walk to Eloise, of course, and begin to speak to her about your newest literary obsession.
Anthony eventually finds himself surrounded by his friends, leaving you and Eloise to your own devices. "It is quite an interesting story, I am surprised I only found just found it." You hum as she grins. She had recommended the book Frankenstein after you had said you wished to read more of the classics. "I am surprised as well, you always struck me as a horror type of woman." She teases, bumping your shoulder. You laugh lightly as she does.
"Well, now I know that I am only to come to you for book recommendations as my husband is quite lacking in that department." You return, your eyes filled with playful affection. "Well, I could have told you that, Y/N. My brother, it seems, only likes books in the historical genre." She sighs and looks at her glass of lemonade. "I shall be right back, I am going to get more lemonade." She says and is off before you can protest.
You frown and look around for someone else to talk to, to hide behind really, as you wait. Before you can you are approached by none other than Cressida Cowper, an absolute addict to gossip. "Y/N L/N, I am surprised to see you alone. Has he grown bored of you already?" She says, tilting her head.
You wince and sigh. You knew it was coming, Cressida always had a knack for finding you when you were alone and vulnerable. Often times her insults insist on picking on your nervous demeanor, or even your kindness. The use of your maiden name, however, stung uniquely. A sign that she thought your marriage insignificant, and who knows how many others did. You can feel your breathing pick up already.
"Cressida. It is lovely to see you." You say softly, turning to face her head on. She rolls her eyes at your blatant disregard for her question. "Indeed. It is always a pleasure seeing how... dull you look. I am surprised the Viscount has not already taken a mistress, I mean, he would do well to." She sneers. "I-" You begin but she cuts you off.
"You know I am right. You are dull, Y/N. You always have been. It was a miracle you got as much attention as you did when you debuted and an even bigger miracle that you got married to Anthony. He will grow bored of you, just as everyone has." She scoffs before sauntering off to her next target.
You feel the heat of tears in your eyes and the familiar feeling of tightening in your chest. You know Cressida can be cruel, but what if she got those words from another? What if she was right? Perhaps Anthony will grow bored, perhaps he already has. The thoughts have you going into a spiral, your breathing picking up until you realize you cannot breathe anymore.
Eloise, upon noticing that Cressida had made her way over to you, rushes back. "Oh God, that woman is nothing but a jealous old spinster, Y/N." She whispers, putting her glass down and reaching out before she realizes that you are already too far gone. She takes your hand and begins to walk in search of her brother, "Hold on, Y/N. He has to be near. It will be alright." She says softly, though it does nothing to stop the state of panic you are already in.
She finds him about two minutes later, and you are already in tears. She drags you to him and spins him around. "Cressida." She whispers before leaving the two of you together. He immediately wraps his arms around you and leads you out of the ballroom to one of the balconies, whispering sweet nothings into your ear the entire way.
"Alright. Look at me, my love." He murmurs once you are outside, grabbing your hands in his and pressing them to his chest so you can feel his heartbeat. "Ready?" He whispers when your tear-filled eyes meet his and you nod.
"Alright, in..." He breathes in and you do the same, your breathing stuttering as you try your best to follow. "And out..." He whispers, exhaling with you. The two of you have gone through this many times. He had helped you when you were courting, when you were engaged, and he will help you until the end of time.
After a few moments of him guiding you, your breathing calms and you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your face into the fabric of his cravat. "What did she say, darling?" He murmurs, rubbing your back gently.
You hesitate, and he senses your apprehension. "I will not get angry with you over words that such an insignificant woman spoke, I will not cause a scene. I promise. I only wish to know before I take you back home, hm?" He whispers, gently cupping your cheeks so he can look at you.
You wait for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodding. "She said that you would grow tired of me, just like everyone else. That you would take a mistress. She said I was dull." You whisper back, your grip on his shirt tightening.
His face darkens for a moment before he pulls you back into his embrace. "She knows nothing, my love. If you were dull, I would not want to spend every waking moment of my life with you. I would not have married you if you were not perfect for me in every single way." He whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
"But I... I do this so often. I get so... so anxious. I am hardly a Viscounte-" You start but he cuts you off. "You are the perfect Viscountess. Y/N," He begins, pulling back a bit so he can look at you. "I do not say that lightly. I know that it has only been a short six months since we were wed, but I am more secure in my belief that you will be the perfect Viscountess. The perfect mother, the perfect head of my house. You are the perfect woman for me and for my family. Do not doubt that ever. Especially over some silly statement a foolish, sad woman made." He says, caressing your cheeks.
Your eyes burn at his speech, and your heart flutters. You lean in and press a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away. "I love you so very much, Anthony." You whisper.
He grins, and you swear you see the faintest of pinks spread over his cheeks. "And I love you, Viscountess Bridgerton." He whispers, pressing another kiss to your lips. "Let us go home. Lady Danbury will not miss our company I'm sure." He hums as he parts, making you nod in response.
That is just what the two of you do. After saying goodbye to his family, and to Lady Danbury, the two of you make your way to the carriage.
The rest of the night is spent in bed, speaking of the future, whispering love confessions in each other's ears, and loads of kisses. Who knew that a man who seems so brutish could be so gentle just for you?
#bridgerton fic#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton fluff#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fluff#bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton fanfic#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x female reader#fluff#cutie pie anthony#bridgerton
340 notes
·
View notes
Note
Anthony bridgerton x wife!reader. Maybe his wife has quite a childlike innocence that the women of the ton take to be weirdness and they tend to isolate her but she never knows why. Maybe they’re newly married and she decides to invite some of the ladies for tea but no one shows up and she’s upset because she’s confused and Anthony comforts her and joins her for tea instead to cheer her up.
Hey! Thank you so much for requesting this & for being so patient! This wasn't meant to be this long but it sort of took on a life of its own. I hope you enjoy it <3
Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader
Warnings: none just comfort :)
Word Count: 1.1K
Every square inch of Aubrey Hall's walls flourished with the season's most stunning flowers, the gardens lush as far as the eye could see. The breeze did little to cool you off from the summer heat as you sat under the tent, sipping your afternoon tea overlooking the meadow alongside Violet Bridgerton. It had been a tedious day of tending to various duties around the household, and you were expecting company from some ladies of society later that evening. It seemed your schedule had been considerably more than full since your wedding a few months ago. Rather frankly, you were just as exhausted as you were delighted in your new marriage to the Viscount. Keeping up with the Bridgertons all while being the latest lady of the house proved to be quite the task. Sure, your introverted preferences to stay within the walls of your home with a good book or spend quiet time in the gardens studying the plants were different than the interests of the ladies of the ton. However, you always tried your very best to keep everyone surrounding you in good spirits while performing your obligations, always looking toward Violet for approval, wanting to stay within your welcome. She was the Viscountess before you, after all. You could only dream of living up to her in your new position. Overseeing every small detail runs smoothly across your home, not to mention the impending weight on your shoulders due to the responsibility of Anthony's sisters coming out in the following seasons. You didn't know how long you could keep this facade up if you were being honest with yourself. But you had standards to upkeep, ways in which the Viscountess held her own beside her husband, and the last thing you ever wanted to do was let Anthony or his family down.
The sun blared upon the exquisitely green grass; surrounding the field on the outer edges were countless trees with blossoming flowers overflowing the gardens. Springtime at Aubrey Hall, indeed, was like no other. You turned your attention toward the Pall Mall game. Your husband stood before his siblings, mumbling something you were sure was some tease towards Eloise, making you smirk. Anthony turned toward the field and adjusted his grip on the mallet before making his final shot. A generous mix of disappointed grumbles and cheers erupted from the handful of Bridgertons as he made the final winning score. Half of them scrambled to debate the shot while the other half stood by, giggling toward them.
Anthony left his siblings to argue among themselves over the game he now reigned as champion over. Eloise was clearly bitter and left feeling she had been made a mockery over this loss after spending her spare time practicing for this very moment. Anthony placed his mallet on the stand alongside the others and approached you. He graciously extended his hand toward you, motioning you to go with him before the both of you bid goodbye to his mama and slipped out of sight and into the grand home.
"Eloise is taking quite hard, isn't she?" You said as he guided you through the doors. "She must have thought her practice would allow her to best you once and for all."
"Having hopes of besting her older yet clearly more skilled brother? Unlikely, my love." Anthony taunted, evidently still on a high from his victory. You stood in the main room while Anthony poured himself a drink, beckoning you to join him before you politely declined.
"I cannot. I am having the ladies over for tea shortly, and I cannot be anything less than perfection for their arrival." Anthony wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in for a brief kiss. Enough to have you wrapping your arms around his neck and yearning for more as he pulled away just enough for your noses to brush tenderly against one another.
"No moment in time exists in which you are not perfection, my love." Anthony's smile warmed your heart as you relaxed against him. "They will love you as much as I do; I am sure of it." His validation and loving gaze melted any lingering stresses still dancing around in your head. All that was left was to check off some last-minute preparations, and the tea could commence.
The late afternoon sun cast dispersed shadows across the cobblestone path. Anthony strolled into his home since returning from a lengthy afternoon of business meetings and running several errands around town.
Anthony had hoped to come home to you excitedly telling him of your afternoon tea with the ladies of the ton. Instead, he found the halls seemed eerily calm for this time of day. He entered the main room and caught you sitting quietly on one of the sofas in a far corner. You curled up beside the unlit fireplace, twirling your fingers anxiously in your lap when you felt Anthony take a seat beside you.
"Sweetheart." Anthony paused before placing his hand in your lap. You didn't know if it was for comfort or to stop you from fidgeting. His warmth was welcome either way. "Is something wrong?" He cautiously asked.
"No one came." The words strained from your throat. "I know your mama and sisters left this morning on a day's travel, but I hoped-." Your voice broke before resuming. "I hoped at least someone would have-." Tears brimmed your eyes, and scattered tears stained across the top of your dress, some still falling down your cheeks. Anthony's hand cupped your face, his thumb gently preventing the tears from their continued flow. He took your hands in his and placed a lingering kiss on your knuckles before standing before you and offering you his hand. Without another word, Anthony dragged you along the halls and out into the gardens. Various flowers bloomed around you, and he brought you to one of the rarer flowers now flourishing on the property.
"What are we doing here?" You questioned while admiring the intricate patterns in which the vine had taken, the beautiful springtime flora temporarily making you forget the catastrophe of this afternoon. Anthony stepped closer from behind, arms wrapping around you as he whispered in your ear.
"It is when I am gazing upon the most exquisitely beautiful flower in the garden that I think of you." Tears again swelled inside you, but for a different reason this time. "The day will come when the world will see the beauty I am fortunate enough to hold near every day. In the meantime, I get you all to myself, hm?" The warmth and comfort of his words and presence enveloped you, brushing away the day's worries and woes with an ease only he possessed. His voice was a soothing balm for your soul that always had a way of convincing you everything would be okay. Because when you were around Anthony, you knew it would be.
Mini Tag List: @bugnug @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @thethreeeyed-raven @ssprayberrythings @fatbottomedvirgo @fictional-hooman (let me know if you would like to added by leaving a comment here or dm me if you’d like to be added.removed)
I DO NOT HAVE WATTPAD. I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission
#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton netflix#anthony bridgerton fluff#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton smut#anthony bridgerton x y/n#anthony bridgerton x you#bridgerton season 2
242 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
acxsandthecity
Untitled
gothigh2fly
Mood swings
sl-nametrains
UtaPri SL Global Name Trains
uncheckedstar0
Untitled
aru2000-blog
Alimentos Saudáveis