#anthony bridgerton x ofc
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(Not) the same as it was - Ch. 5 | A Bridgerton Series
Series: (Not) the same as it was
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x OFC (Josephine Wescott)
Word Count: 1.9k
Summary: A young Anthony and Jo are reunited in the aftermath of Edmund Bridgerton’s death. In 1814, Anthony Bridgerton tries to make amends.
A/N: We're back! Apologies for the heartbreak in this chapter (but perhaps the angst makes way for a lil something-something?)
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series masterlist
Aubrey Hall, Kent, 1803
“Oh, Anthony,” Josephine murmured as she embraced Anthony tightly. “I am so sorry.”
Josephine’s family returned to Kent as soon as word came. Mrs. Saville, Jo’s mother, was eager to be by Violet’s side and support her closest friend through this loss. And Jo was desperate to see Anthony.
Josephine had never experienced a loss. Not one of this magnitude. But she could only imagine that it was devastating for Anthony. She wanted to support him through this grief. They would be sharing their lives together, and she was desperate to prove that she was up for helping Anthony shoulder this burden.
“There are some things that we need to speak of,” Anthony replied.
Jo nodded as she let go of Anthony. She’d barely noticed that Anthony hadn’t truly embraced her in return until she moved to take his arm and realized he hadn’t offered it to her.
Instead, they walked separately as Anthony led them into the side gardens of the Bridgerton estate.
“Whatever I can do to help you, Anthony, please, say the word,” Josephine told him as they moved away from the house.
“Yes, exactly,” Anthony replied as he stopped walking, turning to Jo abruptly.
“I cannot marry you.”
Jo merely stared at Anthony in shock.
“I’m so sorry, Jo, believe me, I am, I didn’t intend to string you along,” Anthony continued. “But trust me, this will be better for us both in the long run.”
Jo, for perhaps the first time in her life, did not speak. Her mouth remained uncharacteristically closed as her expression shifted from one of confusion and shock to poorly restrained sadness as she realized this wasn’t some sort of poorly executed joke, nor was it a mere deference of their inevitable marriage.
He was throwing her off.
“One day you will thank me for this,” Anthony added.
Jo’s head had begun to shake as she still struggled to form words, her thoughts and fears prompting a loose ramble as she tried to understand what was happening.
“No, Anthony, I love you, I- I’ll wait as long as you need, I’ll be patient and when you’re ready then we can-”
“No,” Anthony stated firmly. Harsher than he’d intended to. It felt like a slap across Jo’s face. “I will never marry you.”
“But…,” Jo stuttered.
“I don’t love you,” Anthony told Jo. It was almost impossible for Anthony to get out the lie. But he needed Josephine to let him go. And this would do it. He was certain of it. Even if the barbed words scarred his own mouth as he spat them out.
It would break her heart. And his heart too. But it would save her from a lifetime of regret. From the complete and utter destruction that his mother was currently experiencing.
She would thank him. One day. When he left this earth and she was still here.
Anthony’s mother was practically comatose. She hadn’t left her chambers since it had happened. She wouldn’t speak. Barely ate. The doctor was still unsure of whether or not the baby would live.
Anthony refused to put Jo through that.
He loved her, so he needed to let her go.
“I have much to attend to so I will take my leave,” Anthony said as he tried not to look into Jo’s face, to be faced with her silent tears.
“Goodbye, Jo,” He added before he turned and made his way back to Aubrey Hall, turning his back on her.
And Jo stood in the Bridgerton’s garden, watching Anthony disappear through the door before she finally felt her legs give out from under her as she fell to the ground and a sob broke through her chest.
He had never looked back.
It was weeks later that Anthony and Jo spoke again. Josephine had tried to speak to him at Edmund’s funeral, but Anthony had resoundly ignored her. After that, she’d resigned herself to the fact that Anthony would not change his mind. Not anytime soon. And though her mother would be staying to support Violet, she insisted that Jo and her father needed to return to London.
Jo had been out on a morning ride when she spotted Anthony out on his own early morning ride. Before it had been improper for the two of them to ride together alone, they’d frequently shared early morning rides through their families' property.
“My father and I are returning to London, tomorrow,” Josephine called out to Anthony as she cantered her horse toward him.
“Safe travels,” He replied with a polite nod.
“Do you have anything else you wish to say to me?” Jo asked. She didn’t hide her disbelief. She didn’t want to. And she couldn’t have if she tried.
She and Anthony had known each other their entire lives. She’d never once expected him to ignore her. To act as if they were strangers.
“Not particularly, is there something you wish for me to say?” Anthony asked.
“No, I suppose not,” Josephine replied with a hiss.
“Goodbye, Anthony,” She muttered before she urder her horse foward and took off back toward her house.
Saville House, London, 1814
“Anthony,” Jo stated as she looked up from her correspondence in surprise. She had been so focued on her letter that she’s heard her butler announce someone but hadn’t been listening to the name until she look up to see Anthony Bridgerton standing before her. “What are you doing here?”
“Lady Wescott,” He greeted her with a small bow.
Anthony hadn’t been to Jo’s family’s London house in over ten years. Not much had changed. It was small and cozy.
“I felt I owed you an apology,” Anthony told Jo as he stood awkwardly in the middle of he sitting room. “The things that I said yesterday were… unkind.”
“Yes,” Jo replied with a nod of agreement. “They were.”
“And I am sorry,” Anthony replied.
Jo nodded, quietly waiting for him to continue.
“You said things that were unkind as well,” Anthony added when Jo didn’t reply.
“You want me to apologize to you?” Jo asked as her eyebrows shot up.
“Well,” Anthony stammered.
“You are a ridiculous man, Anthony,” Jo replied as she shook her head in disbelief. “After everything you haven’t changed a bit.”
She should have realized that Anthony would expect an apology of his own. He could never uflly own up to his mistakes, why would he start now.
“We both said things that we regret,” Anthony reiterated.
“We? The two of us are not a unit, Anthony, you made certain of that,” Jo muttered as she pressed a hand to the top of her head. “I told you what you needed to hear.”
“We’ve both made mistakes in the past, Jo, and you know that the same as I,” Anthony replied. Why was she being so impossible? If anyone hadn’t changed since they were young, it was Jo. She could never just let things go, could she? The stubborn little minx.
“We were both foolish and young! You expect me to believe your marriage was a happy one? That you did not regret marrying the Earl?”
“They are hardly the same thing,” Jo hissed as she stood from her desk abruptly.
He had nearly made the same mistake last night. Trying to act as if she had thrown him over, instead of the other way around.
“You married someone else!” Anthony shouted at her.
“Because you told me you would never marry me!”
“I had just lost my father!”
“I am keenly aware of that fact!” Jo spat at him. “I could have been patient. I told you as much. That I’d wait as long as you needed. And you told me that we could never be together. That you didn’t love me. So I apologize for not seeing how any of that has changed.”
Anthony fell silent. He’d held his breath without even realizing it as he realized he wasn’t othe only one who seemed to remember their conversations all these years later.
“I do not want to fight with you, Anthony,” Jo finally said with a deep sigh as she finally regained some semblance of calm. “We will never agree on this. That is plainly clear to me now.”
“You cannot pretend that my actions were not a direct result of yours. You forced my hand. Do not expect me to apologize for your own misgivings.”
“I…I am sorry. At the time…” Anthony trailed off as he tried to explain his teenaged logic. “Well, I thought it was the only thing to do. And some part of you must have agreed because you listened.”
She’d married the earl a few months after they’d left. Obviously, she hadn’t truly meant it when she said she’d wait for him.
“You broke my heart, Anthony,” Jo replies as she holds onto the back of the chair so tightly her knuckles turned white. “I had to marry. I had no choice.”
Aubrey Parish, Kent, 1803
Her father explained to Jo why her mother had been so set on the season on the carriage ride back to London.
Jo had a comparable dowry thanks to her mother’s inheritance, but her father’s income could not support her parents and Jo forever.
She would have to marry. And if Anthony Bridgerton was no longer interested… well, she would have to look elsewhere. Her parents had spared no expense on her season. It would be a struggle to afford another one next year if she couldn’t find a match by the end of this one.
When they returned to London the news of the spectacular end of Anthony Bridgerton and Josephine Saville’s courtship had already made the rounds twice over.
The rejection of a man who was now a Viscount had left Josephine adrift. Most of the young men in London saw Anthony’s rejection of her as a final stamp on her rejection as a possible bride. She’d spent the next few weeks standing on the edges of parties and balls. A true wallflower with an empty dance card and a stormy disposition to match.
It wasn’t much later that her father introduced her to Lord Wescott.
The wedding was set for August. In Kent at the parish church.
The last time she had been in the church had been for Edmund Bridgerton’s funeral only two months earlier.
The wedding felt similarly somber in Josephine’s heart.
But she couldn’t help but wonder if Anthony would attend. The Bridgertons had all been invited. Violet was still unwell. But she’d seen Benedict in town when she’d arrived and he’d told her the children would attend. Neither one of them spoke of Anthony.
A part of her imagined that she would walk down the aisle and Anthony would burst into the church and object.
That he would rescue her.
Because if he had ever truly loved her? He would stop the wedding.
But that didn’t happen.
Josephine Saville walked down the aisle arm in arm with her father and she walked back down the aisle Lady Josephine Wescott.
It was arm in arm with her new husband that she saw him. As they were walking down the aisle she saw him, standing in between little Eloise and Frannie, staring back at her with a polite smile, clapping along with everyone else as she set off to start her new life.
And it was in that moment that Jo’s heart well and truly broke.
#Bridgerton#Bridgerton Series#not the same as it was#(not) the same as it was series#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton fanfic#anthony bridgerton series#anthony bridgerton x original character#anthony bridgerton x ofc#bridgerton ofc#bridgerton original character#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton fanfic#bridgerton drabble#bridgerton one shot#anthony bridgerton drabble#anthony bridgerton one shot#anthony bridgerton x josephine
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Falling For Fairytales (2)
Anthony Bridgerton x black!Reader
Series Summary: Taking a slight twist on your classic Cinderella story, you are the daughter of a Marquis who died when you were 18. Several years later, you are told by your stepmother that you must marry this season, or she will engage you to her elderly Uncle. Having no money of your own, you realize you are going to have to strategize if you are going to avoid such a fate. So it's a good thing you run into a Viscount who sees marriage as a battlefield.
Chapter Summary: You arrive at the Danbury Estate
Word Count: 1,471
A/N: Hi people! Any feedback is welcomed! I hope you enjoy :)
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Since the two footmen had picked you up in the early afternoon, and it took about an hour to reach the Danbury Estate, you arrived at the decadent mansion just in time for tea.
Being told your luggage would be taken directly to your room upon arrival, you were immediately escorted to the drawing room in order to officially greet your host.
The butler escorting you properly announced your presence before stepping aside and allowing you in. As you entered the beautifully decorated room, you saw a person who had to be Lady Danbury rise from their seated position with a practiced grace you marveled at. Once at her full height, she turned and finally laid her eyes on you. You watched as her face blossomed into an expression of inviting warmth. When an equally warm smile spread across her lips, you knew that you had made the right choice in coming here.
Dropping into a respectful curtsey, you opened your mouth and said,
“Lady Danbury, please allow me to say what an honor it is to make your acquaintance once more. I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to stay in your wonderful home.”
A small smile grew on her face, and there was a moment of silence where she just regarded you before she said,
“So formal?”
Though you were a little confused as to what she meant, she continued before you could ask.
“As I recall, I was Aunt Agatha to the young lady whose mother I practically raised. I know it has been some years since we have last seen each other, but I would hope something as frivolous as time would not cause me to lose such a title.”
She finished with a teasing note and her arms held out to you.
As understanding filled you, you could not stop yourself from racing into her arms and melting into the maternal embrace.
“Of course not,” You said over her shoulder. Pulling away, you smiled brightly before continuing.
“You will always be my Aunt Agatha.”
Returning your smile, Lady Danbury grasped one of your hands gratefully as she led you both to sit down on the chaise. She dismissed the remaining servants from the room before giving you her undivided attention. You two then spent a while catching up on each other's stories. You told her about your travels and she told you about all the gossip you had missed while away from the ton. It was a pleasant conversation that you were enjoying until she unintentionally brought up the elephant in the room.
“And how is the Marchioness?”
In a poor attempt to avoid the question, you decide to take a long sip of your tea rather than reply. Taking note of this oddness, Lady Danbury continued to ask her questions.
“Will she be joining us before the start of the season or will she arrive at a later date?”
You kept your eyes focused on the now empty tea cup held in your hands as you finally answered.
“She will not be participating in the season with us.”
Confusion settled on your Aunt’s face as she asked,
“Whatever do you mean, child? Every mother wants to be there for her daughter’s first season.”
With a tight smile, you absentmindedly replied “Yes, well, Stepmother prefers to not be involved,” and hurriedly added almost as an afterthought, “With the season! She does not like being involved with the season!”
Another moment passed before she asked,
“Does the Marchioness know you are here?”
Swallowing, you said, “She knows I am here in London, yes.”
Picking up on what you were not saying, your Aunt finished your statement.
“But she does not know you are staying with me, correct?”
Faced with the truth, you could only nod.
Still not seeing the reason for keeping that a secret Lady Danbury asked you why you would do such a thing.
With a deep sigh, you explained.
“She does not react well when I come into contact with things that were connected to my mother.”
Needing more information, Lady Danbury imploringly said, “Meaning?”
Rather than try to explain again, you decided to give an example.
“She once caught me looking at a miniature of my mother. My father had commissioned a few of them over the years and kept them in a small chest box.”
Looking down, you admitted, “I just wanted to be reminded of what my mother looked like, even if it was just from a likeness on a painting.”
Your eyes had taken on an unseeing look as you got lost in the memory. They sharpened into focus when you remembered the way it ended.
“Stepmother threw the whole box into the fireplace, and made me watch as it burned.”
Silence rang out as your words sunk in. Trying not to recall the pain of that memory, you continued talking.
“That said, I have learned what not to share when it comes to my mother.”
Now feeling exposed, you tried to make the conversation slightly more lighthearted and jokingly finished,
“And staying with my mother’s favorite Aunt definitely falls on that list.”
Rolling her eyes at your attempt at humor, Lady Danbury snippily replied,
“I was your mother’s only Aunt.”
Before she stood with the assistance of her cane and began a slow pace in front of the fireplace.
A long while passed while she contemplated all the information you had given her. Things began to slowly sink into place as she suddenly understood why you had stopped reaching out to her after your father remarried. But if you were forbidden from interacting with any components of your mother’s life, then what were you doing here now?
Voicing that exact question as she returned to her original seat across from you, she watched as you tried very hard not to fidget under her scrutiny.
After you took a moment to figure out how to answer, you finally began to speak.
“Stepmother has presented me with…a challenge to say the least. I simply must outmaneuver her if I am to be the one to come out on top, so to speak.”
Having gotten a refill of tea while Lady Danbury paced in front of you, you took a delicate sip while she asked another question for confirmation.
“So…you two are in a contest of sorts?”
But knowing your dilemma was direr than any frivolous contest, you could not help clarifying your situation with outright honesty.
“Lady Danbury, we are in a fight to the death. I have been forced to participate because I know she hopes it will be me that perishes.”
Shocked, your Aunt asked in an unbelieving voice, “My apologies, but has she somehow, despite being a lady, challenged you to an affair of honor?”
Letting out a small laugh at her words, you stated through your chuckle,
“No, we shall not be meeting at dawn to duel,”
Before you suddenly grew somber and said,
“Though, I suppose that would be one way to put an end to all of this,” Underneath your breath.
Fed up with the mystery of it all, Lady Danbury simply made her demands.
“Dear girl, do stop beating around the bush and tell me what is going on.”
Only withholding the truth for another moment, you realized almost instantly that it was foolish to try to keep a secret from Aunt Agatha. She had been able to read you like a book from the day you were born.
Therefore, you only allowed one more moment to pass in which you weighed the pros and cons of confiding in her before you chose to be truthful and tell her of the news you had recently learned yourself.
“Stepmother says she will engage me to her Uncle if I do not marry before the end of this season,” You said in a quiet voice. “He has said things before that lead me to believe he will not be…kind.”
Appalled, Lady Danbury exclaimed, “Uncle?! Is that man not twice your age?”
Not being able to withstand the unsettling nature of the situation, you could only confirm the answer to the question in a hollow voice.
“A little more so I am told.”
Finally comprehending the situation you were in, your Aunt digested this information like medicine she did not want to take. It was terrible going down, but would be helpful later. Now that she knew, she could do something to help. That said, she had to ask you one more question.
“And what do we have in the aresenol to avoid such a fate?”
She could not help but notice the slightly sly smile growing on your lips while you answered.
“I am so glad you asked.”
By the time you finished explaining, she was proud to say her smile was just as sly.
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Taglist (Let me know if you'd like to be added):
@drownmeoutatsea | @easilyobessedbutflighty
#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x black!reader#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x ofc#anthony bridgerton x y/n#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton fanfic#anthony bridgerton fanfiction
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You guys ever notice how, in the promos, Anthony is smiling most of the time?🥹
#and always in the vicinity of Kate ofc#he’s been so happy <33#bridgerton#kanthony#anthony bridgerton#anthony x kate#kate sharma
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I want to read bridgerton books before s3 and I saw you talked about the books as well are they any good?
God NO💀
Okay let me explain. Before I say anything I only read the first 3 books and the 6th one, which are Daphne, Anthony, Benedict and Francesca's story.
Here's my rating:
The Duke and I: ⭐ (Daphne)
The Viscount Who Loved Me: ⭐⭐⭐.5 (Anthony)
An Offer From a Gentleman: ⭐⭐⭐ (Benedict)
6. When He Was Wicked: ⭐⭐⭐⭐.5 (Francesca)
Daphne's book was horrible. idk if you've watched the TV show but *spoiler* that scene with Daphne forcing herself on Simon? It's ten times worse in the book.
Anthony's book was okay-ish I love their romance ig but both character were so bland!! Kate is so boring and insecure. It made me roll my eyes way too many time whenever she open her mouth lol. Anthony also pissed me off!!! I didn't like him in the book AT ALL. Their first time is a light dub-con *spoiler* Let's just say he made their first night his right while Kate was terrified and just wanted to postpone it so she can gather up her courage. It made me quite angry. (bare that in mind s2 is soooooo much different than the book. Plot-wise I enjoyed the book better and for characters, I loved the show. Only if I could mashup these two...)
Benedict's book is a Cinderella retelling. The premises were there but the book didn't quite met them. Again Benedict is so boring... he's nothing like show!Benedict and I loved Sophie<3 Their story is quite unique and if the show approach it right, it can be the best season tbh...
Francesca's was my favorite. Angsty, more than the first three. It's the only book that their first time isn't questionable (kinda) and tbh I really enjoyed it! I loved both characters. I'm not saying it's the best historical romance book ever but it was way more enjoyable than the other 3 I've read.
I gotta say these books are problematic and white asf lmao. Simon is literally blond with blue eyes!! It was quite a shock when I read the book the first time...
#and Kate is not Indian ofc#their age gap is also between 9-11 years if I'm not wrong#in the show is only 3-4 years#and Edwina is a sweetheart :(#they ruined my baby</3#and Mary tbh#and show saphne is much MUCH better than the book#bridgerton#kanthony#kathony#benophie#francesca x michael#saphne#anthony bridgerton#kate sharma#kathani sharma#kate bridgerton#kathani bridgerton#simon basset#daphne bridgerton#francesca bridgerton#michael stirling#benedict bridgerton#sophie beckett
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upcoming fan fictions
so the fan fictions won out for my upcoming works!
now drug/eternal fans do not fret because I will still be continuing and finishing that fic. will I be writing simultaneously? you would be correct!
now, what shall be voted on today is which of my fan fics will I be writing along side of the eternals fan, "the last hope". below will be the summary of each fic and just like before, you all get to vote on which one I will be posting. whichever becomes the top vote will be the next fanfic to be written along side the last hope; the next highest vote will be the next fan fiction and so on.
gonna be honest, most of these I did already start like plotting out!
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This is Poguelandia ( ofc x jj maybank )
Laurie Dubois was the new kook in town, with secrets that could give everyone a run for their money, but before anything could come to light, she ended up going missing. Four years later, Laurie is caught on camera, alive and well, and the hunt is on to find her. The Pogues could be the ones to find Laurie and be split the reward money and while that is enticing to JJ Maybank, he has a secret connection to the missing girl and knows there's more than meets the eye when it comes to why she went missing all those years ago.
Mr. and Mrs. Xu ( ofc x mafia!shang-chi )
Sara and Shaun come from opposing crimes families, both well-versed in undercover work. Both were sent on jobs in the States when they meet, not knowing the other's true identity. Now, years later after being married and having their daughter, the Xu's are living their secret lives while working for their families until one night changes and jeopardizes everything Sara and Shaun worked so hard to protect.
The Big Fix ( ofc x modern!anthony bridgerton )
It had been years since Anthony Bridgerton and Auralia Bell haven't been in the same room since they broke up their junior year of college. Now, almost ten years later, Auralia is the top performer at The Avalon Group, the top pr firm catering to London's finest. To get the promotion of her dreams, she is tasked with her biggest contract yet: fix Anthony Bridgerton's reputation. Auralia has to out her emotions aside and be the professional she knows she is, not thinking about the feelings that are clearly still there.
The Guardians ( ofc x ben miller )
Ben Miller is the happiest man he's ever been; his winning big with boxing with his brother and friends by his side and he's with the woman of his dreams. One day, everything gets turned upside down when she goes missing with nothing but a distress call from the other side of the world giving any insight. Now, the boys must band together for one more mission in the search of her before it's too late.
Fool's Gold ( ofc x nathan drake ; ofc x victor sullivan )
Victor Sullivan comes to Nathan Drake for a hunt of a lifetime, a hunt that he couldn't refuse. When the hunt takes them on the most dangerous path they've ever been on, up against bigger enemies than they've faced before, Nathan Drake has to decide if what's at the end is ultimately worth his life.
The Legend of Leon Winter ( ofc x simon lewis )
Leon Winter is well-known amongst the downworlders, Magnus Bane himself knew the warlock personally. Due to horrendous crimes committed by him, Leon Winters is locked away and never to be seen or heard from again. Until today. Somehow, someway, the powerful dark warlock has been freed and hell on earth is quite literally about to rain down. The only ticket to his demise is his illegitimate and unknown daughter, Cherish. No one ever knew she was his daughter nor how she could be the one to bring him down but everyone is in a race against the clock to get to her and end this once and for all.
Chrysós ( ofc x rafe cameron )
A new treasure hunt is on the horizon but this could be more dangerous than what the Pogues have already experienced. Blackbeard's treasure is the world's most hard to find bounty in the world but the Pogues are confident they can find it like they've found their last find. They must band together with Rafe Cameron and Barry when it comes to light they know the one person that has the edge to finding this treasure. OFC knows that Blackbeard had many wives and therefore many chances for descendants and she knows one of them. Could this descendant be their ticket to fame and fortune or lead to their downfall?
Don't Panic ( ofc x dodge mason )
The new season of panic is on the books and everyone's eyes are on the prize money, that being their one way ticket out of their small town. Dodge Mason knows what the money could do for his family but what take him by surprise is his old friend, Sherrie Edge, joins the game after she used to tell him that there was nothing wrong with staying in a small town. The two ex-friends are now in competition with other's in their class; the dangers are high, the secrets are big, and someone is not who they say they are...
Shimmer ( ofc x eddie munson )
Monica Nguyen usually kept to herself, little to no friends despite being on the Hawkins swim team, until a freak accident changed her and put her on the “hawkins hotties” map. Being thrust into the spotlight after being in the shadows for so long can be overwhelming but a certain long-haired dungeon master can make the obnoxious sounds of popularity die down. When outside forces come knocking on Hawkins door in search for the result of their "experiment" and the Hawkins Monster Hunting Club must band together to protect their new friend by any means necessary.
#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks fanfic#obx fanfiction#obx fanfic#ofc x jj maybank#ofc x rafe cameron#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic#ofc x shang chi#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton fanfic#ofc x anthony bridgerton#triple frontier fanfiction#triple frontier fanfic#ofc x ben miller#ofc x benny miller#uncharted fanfiction#uncharted x fanfic#ofc x nathan drake#ofc x victor sullivan#shadowhunters fanfiction#shadowhunters fanfic#ofc x simon lewis#panic fanfiction#panic fanfic#ofc x dodge mason#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#ofc x eddie munson
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Jealousy
A.N: OMG I am finally starting this blog. I am so so excited. This is a Benedict Bridgerton fic ofc. The true loml. I'm still debating if I will write only Bridgerton orrrrrr others? I dunno... but for now, here is a lovely, smutty, cutie, Ben fic hehe <3
Warnings: semi-public sex, fingering, vaginal sex, drinking, dirty talk, heavy praise, talk of public heavy petting ;)
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Minors DNI!! 18+
He sighs from beside Eloise, shifting on the picnic blanket for what has to be the millionth time. "Brother, you worry too much about that woman." She mutters with an amused glint in her eye, taking a bite of one of the strawberry tarts the family maids had made for the occasion.
A family picnic was not a rarity during the social season, especially for the Bridgerton's. What was a rarity is that Benedict had invited a woman along, an incredibly important woman at that. Y/N L/N, a daughter of an influential Viscount. The woman he found himself to be head over heels in love with.
"I am not worried. I am merely observing so our brother does not make a fool of himself in front of her." He replies with a huff, taking a sip from his flask before tucking it back into his pocket.
You were merely speaking with his brother. His happily married older brother. He has no reason to be jealous, really, but something in him still tugs painfully at the sight of you speaking to another man. It is only when Kate comes to steal her husband away that you scootch back over to him, a bright smile on your face.
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You move back over to Benedict and look up at his cute pouty expression, smiling at the warmth that blooms in your chest as a result.
You wished to get to know his family before the inevitable happens. Marriage. You know, as well as he does, that you were both going to tie the knot as soon as it was acceptable to do so. You also know that he would scoop you up and marry you tomorrow if he had his way.
At the very first ball of the season, Lady Danbury insisted that she had someone for you to meet. Someone who enjoyed painting just as much as you did. So, she took your arm and led you away from your father to the Bridgerton family. You were confused, at first, when the already happily married Viscount, Anthony, turned to greet you. And then, as if the sea was parting, he appeared. A crooked grin on his face as he moved to see you. Benedict Bridgerton, although he is a second son, stole your heart as soon as you saw him.
From then on you waited with bated breath for every dance you would share, dreamt of him in your bedroom when you got home, and thought of nothing but him in between. You shared stolen glances at every event and even snuck off to any hidden corner or garden you could find for breathless kisses and entirely impolite words that sent your mind into a whirlwind you could not explain.
Soon enough, he started inviting you on promanades and even sooner he wished for you to dine with his family. Get to know his life outside of the stuffy ballroom, to which you found yourself falling even deeper in love than you could've ever imagined.
"You're pouting, Ben." You hum, taking a sip of your lemonade with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Indeed. Perhaps if you were not so caught up with my brother I would not have a reason to pout, hm?" He returns, moving to take another sip from his flask.
He was jealous? Of his married brother? You sigh and move your hand over his, shaking your head slightly. You hand him a glass of lemonade. If he truly is jealous, the last thing he needs is whiskey.
"If you truly wish to hear what we were talking about, I shall tell you." You return as he takes a sip of the lemonade you gave him. He moves his hand over yours, just out of sight of his family. A possessive gesture that makes your heart flutter.
"Yes, in fact, do enlighten me." He grumbles with a sigh. "His wife, Benedict. He was talking about his lovely wife, which if you have forgotten, happens to be my dear friend." You sigh, running your thumb over his knuckles.
He looks over at you, his green eyes sweeping down to your lips, then your chest, before finally looking back up. "I care not of what you were speaking about, I should like you to speak with me when it is I who invited you." He practically growls, the tone of his voice making the place between your legs heat up and dampen instantly. A feeling that only happened with him, something he had explained as both desire and arousal.
"You know that I-" You begin, but are cut off by him pulling you to your feet. The glasses of lemonade are now completely forgotten. "Mother, I should like to promenade with Lady Y/N." He fibs.
What he would really like to do is rip the skirt of your dress open, spread your legs wide, and plunge his cock so deep inside of your soaked cunt that you forget everything else. He wants to paint your insides with his seed right here, in front of the whole ton, so that every man can get a glimpse of who you truly belong to.
"Of course, dear. We shall not keep you." Violet replies with a smile before delving back into conversation with Eloise, who also looks up with a confused expression but quickly rolls her eyes and continues to speak to her mother.
You shoot him a questioning look to which he just raises an eyebrow and offers his arm. You take it and he begins to lead you away from the picnic canopies that many families have set up to dine under.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Where are we going?" You question after a moment, realizing that you are not following the path around the lake but rather the path to the carriages.
He stops and tugs you behind a tree, pushing you up against the trunk. The bark bites into the little exposed skin the back of your dress grants you and your cunt flutters when you see his expression.
Desire is different for men, he taught you. You can see it in the way his trousers tighten at the front and in the way his eyes haze over. His hands move to your waist and he bends down, pressing kisses all the way up your neck until he reaches your ear.
"Agree to marry me and I shall show you." He whispers, biting the soft flesh beneath your ear causing you to shiver and whine. He grins and licks over the tender skin, soothing the sting.
"You already know very well that I would say yes to any proposal you give me." You breathe, leaning your head back as your eyes flutter shut. His hand skates over your stomach, running up the smooth fabric of your dress until he meets your breast. He cups one and swipes his thumb over your hardened nipple through the fabric.
He pulls away, swiping the saliva off his bottom lip with his thumb before picking you up. You squeal and he chuckles, paying the driver of his carriage off before tucking you inside. He closes the door and the curtains on the window, darkness enclosing the both of you.
"Benedict." You whisper as he lays you back on the velvety bench. "Hush, my love. I shall not do anything before asking I swear it." The title makes your heart almost burst out of your chest. He dips down once more, pressing his lips to yours briefly.
You pull him back down before he gets very far, chasing one of those open-mouthed kisses he gave you at the last ball. He groans, his tongue swiping over yours. He grins over your lips at the sound that escapes, moving his hands to yours where they rest on his chest before breaking the kiss.
"Ben please." You whine, wanting him to continue so desperately. He only smiles, taking off your gloves. "You must have patience, my sweet girl. I am going to ravish you in due time." He assures, pressing soft kisses from your palm all the way up to your shoulder as he takes off his gloves as well.
He reaches your neck, to which he takes a deep breath. Taking in your scent of lavender and citrus, making him groan as it always does. "Do you remember when I taught you to ride my thigh?" He whispers, running his tongue down to your collarbone, nipping the skin.
The memory makes you flood your underwear. You remember well, how could you not? He had lead you to the garden at one of Lady Danbury's balls and sat you down on his lap on the edge of the fountain. He hiked up your skirt and led your hips back and forth until something inside of you snapped so hard you saw stars and stained his trousers. That is where he taught you about his arousal, about yours.
"Yes." You breathe, your eyes fluttering shut as one of his hands moves under your skirt. His slender fingers skating teasingly up your thigh. "Good girl." He praises. He cups your cunt without warning and you cry out, your hips canting.
"Fuck. You are absolutely drenched." He whispers, relishing in the moans he draws from your body just from keeping a hand over your cunt. "And I told you about sex, do you remember that darling?" He murmurs, watching your eyes flutter.
He slowly pushes your skirt up so he can slide off your panties. He tucks them into his pocket, smiling to himself. "Yesss." You moan as the air hits your bare sex. "You told me it happens when we get married." You whisper between whines as his hand comes back, his fingers curling into your pubic hair.
"Such a good listener. So good for me." He praises, sliding two of his fingers along your drenched slit before finding your clit with expert touch. He rubs a slow circle on your button and you moan loudly, throwing your head back. "Now, when a man has honor he waits to take a woman's innocence. But my honor disappeared when I saw you with my brother," You try and protest but he pinches your clit and you cry out before you can get so much as a whisper out.
"So I will take you now. In this damn carriage." He growls, moving his free hand to your hips to hold you down. You whine when his fingers move down. "Fuck you are perfect," He breathes. "I'm going to slide one of my fingers inside now, darling, alright?" He murmurs, the switch from possessive to sweet sending your mind reeling. So overwhelmed, so mindless Just how he likes you.
You nod tentatively, your heart rate spiking which he picks up on. He shifts so he is over you, and kisses the crown of your head. "I'll go slow, hm? Nice and slow. All you need to do is pat my arm twice and I'll stop." He assures, calming your heart. You nod and nuzzle his neck.
He slowly plunges a long finger into your weeping cunt and you whine at the invasion. "Good girl, fuck you are so tight." You gasp and writhe as he curls his finger, the feeling sending a shock straight to your clit. He slowly adds another finger and you moan loudly, your eyes rolling back.
"Ben... so good. Feels...." You cry out when his fingers curl into a spot that sends waves of pleasure through you. He grins and begins to rock his fingers, drawing heavenly noises from your soaked cunt. The carriage filled with the sound of your moans and the squelching of your pussy.
He licks a stripe up your neck, beginning to suck as he rocks his fingers. You curl a hand in his thick curls and tug, your hips desperately trying to move against the palm of his hand.
He kisses your jaw, and then your chin, before finally capturing your lips. His tongue immediately sliding past your swollen lips and tangling with yours. You moan into his mouth as his thumb presses down on your swollen clit, moving clockwise as he rocks his fingers into your body.
He breaks the kiss and pulls out his fingers, much to your dismay, before unbuttoning his trousers. "Benedict... why did you stop? It felt so very nice..." You whine, grinding on nothing to try and gain some sort of feeling.
He groans at the sight, bending down and pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. "My harlot of a fiancee. So needy for something she does not even know the half of." He praises as he slowly frees his cock, the sight along with his filthy words making you gasp.
He pulls back and strokes himself with the help of your delicious wetness, before looking back at your sweet face. All flushed and wide-eyed. He moves his free hand to your chin, running his thumb over your bottom lip.
"It will not fit, Benny." You whisper, suddenly frightened. His eyes soften and he moves down pressing a swift kiss to your lips. "It will, my love. We will go slow, I promise. Remember what I told you, two pats on my arm and we will stop." He hums, peppering your face with kisses which causes you to giggle and calm a bit. "Perhaps one pat for apprehension, hm?" He murmurs with a smile, pulling back. You nod.
"Good girl." He hums. He leans in and runs his length through your soaked folds drawing moans from the both of you. "Fuck. God, I love you." He grunts and you smile, draping your arms over your eyes to cover your blush. "I love you too, Benedict." You whisper back.
He slowly pushes into your body, throwing his head back at how tight your pretty pussy is. You cry out at the invasion, your hands shooting down to grasp at the edges of the carriage bench. The feeling is a strange mix of pain and something different. A tart taste on your tongue paired with a tingly feeling in your already hot womb. "Fucking hell." He groans before tucking his face in the crook of your neck, stopping halfway so you can adjust.
You whine and wrap your arms around his neck after a moment. "P-Please..... more. I need more, Benedict." You gasp after the pain subsides. God, he almost comes right there. He wants you like this all the time, mindless for his cock. Begging him to fuck you.
"Good fucking girl, Y/N." He grunts before bottoming out inside of you. You moan and toss your head back into the seat cushion and he groans at the feeling. "You feel so good, my love. So ripe, so wet. God, so very tight just for me." He praises.
He begins to move slowly, the slap of thighs meeting thighs filling the carriage. The feeling is so foreign but fuck you never want it to stop. Moans and whines slip past your lips before you can even begin to try and stop them, and you cry out as he speeds up. The noises he is drawing from your body would embarrass you if you didn't adore the way he feels inside of you to the point that you can think of nothing else. You wish to be like this as much as you can, full to the brim with his cock.
"Benedict." You moan and he stalls, gritting his teeth. "Never ever stop moaning my name, you vixen. God, I am a lucky man. The luckiest man in the world." He praises you as he begins to slam into you.
You grip his coat so hard you are surprised the velvety fabric hasn't torn. You cry out when his thumb finds your clit, the feeling sending you up to the clouds. "Come for me, my love." He grunts from above you with a slight slap on your thigh. That sends you over, your vision going white as you scream his name.
He thrusts a few more times before pulling out and pumping himself. He releases with a groan onto your stocking-covered thigh before collapsing on top of you.
After a moment he lifts his head to look at you, brushing your fallen hair out of your face. You smile, almost drunkenly, as you look at him. "That was heavenly." You whisper and he smirks, pressing a kiss to your lips.
"Just wait until we are married. I cannot wait to fill you with my seed and see you plump with my child." He murmurs. resting his head back on your shoulder. Your hand absentmindedly finds his hair, running through his messy curls.
"We have to go back." You whisper to which he shakes his head. "Not yet. I paid off the driver. We have as much time to rest as we wish, dearest." He hums, his eyes closed. You grin and close yours as well, slowly dozing off with him.
You are the luckiest woman in the world.
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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
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Hi, I was wondering if you could write something with Anthony bridgerton and his wife(who is from a lower class than him) having an argument because she did something “wrong/out of class” if it makes sense😭🫶🏼
A/N: yes ofc, omg I love this idea...some of this may be historically inaccurate but so is Bridgerton. this is completely unedited but I wanted to get it out!! Anyway, let me know what you think and what you want next!
Pairing- Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader
Warnings: none :)
Word Count - 972
Sun beamed throughout the morning room, the rays hitting the furniture and causing dust to swirl throughout the air. The room was silent, other than the clinging and scraping of silverware against fine porcelain plates.
Despite the unnatural quietness of their breakfast, she let her eyes wander the room. From the high windows and fine curtains to the embroidered settees and chairs, she admired the grandeur each morning. She always found herself drawn to the pianoforte, wishing she learned as a young girl but never was given the opportunity. Every time she looked around the room or any within the Bridgerton home, her home, the breath in her lungs vanished. There was a part of her mind that never seemed to comprehend what her life had become.
Y/n glanced to the far end of the room where her husband sat at the small table, today's reading on his lap. His brows were furrowed and his jaw was set. He was the picture of agitated and tense. She believed she was the reason, again.
"Precisely how many of the Ton have I offended this time, Anthony?" Y/n said, attempting to hide her weariness by sipping her tea.
Without looking at her, he folded his paper and laid it atop the table.
"What have I done this time?"
Ever the picture of elegance and high society, he manvoured himself in his chair to face her. She met his gaze, unwavering. Exhaustion seeped into her. This was the third time this month, somehow no matter what she did, how she acted, and how hard she tried, she was improper.
"Some of the gentlemen have mentioned their wives complaining that you are-" He hesitated for a moment. "Too friendly with their husbands."
Her stomach lurched and tears burned in her eyes. She held a gloved hand up to her face, trying to stave off the emotion from rising. She was to meet with a few of those ladies in only a few hours. It would be worse if her face was tear-stained and flushed.
"Now I am too nice." She whispered in defeat before finding her voice again. Irritation rose in her the more she thought about the impossibility of the situation. "Not last week was I standoffish and cold, now I am too nice."
"The Ton is very particular and delicate with the matters of decency and manners." He said, his words would typically seem to lend some amount of comfort but his tone was bordering on frustration. "It is something you must learn."
She let out a bitter laugh which caught his attention. Still not used to the improper volume that she often ends up adapting.
"Does it appear as if I am not trying? As if I have not given my all for this, for you?"
"I appreciate your efforts but you must remember you no longer only reflect yourself but the Bridgerton name. My name, my brother's and sister's name, Y/n. It is bigger than you."
She stared at him in disbelief. He acted as if she wasn't aware of this. As if her life for the six months had not revolved around him and his name, the name she took in place of her own. Did he truly not see all she had given for him? How hard she was trying?"
"You knew who you married, Anthony. I was not born into this. The first ballroom I ever entered was the one in this very house. I am learning this seemingly impossible and intricate system of right and wrong. It seems to be a balancing act between being a complete harlot or a shut-in. I am either too nice, too flirtatious or I am too detached and too disagreeable. I cannot win, no matter what." Tears began streaming down her face fueled by a mix of anger and hurt. For weeks, Anthony reassured her that her efforts would pay off and that she was doing amazing. Yet, it seemed as though, the talk of the Ton was getting to him too.
The room was silent once again before she spoke up.
"Why did you marry me?" Y/n said quietly, looking away from him, "You could've had a lady, someone with a title but you chose me. Why?"
Her eyes drew back to Anthony as his chair pushed against the floor. She watched him as he made his way to stop in front of her. He extended an un-gloved hand and she took it. Raising up, she avoided his stare by watching as she smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt. His hand cupped her jaw, finger pushing up her face so her gaze mrt his. His thumb brushed the stray tears still falling.
" I do not care for the opinions of the Ton." He murmured, "My only true concern is for my sisters and for you. The Ton is vicious, truly. They tear apart anyone they do not deem as their own."
"I married you because I love you. " He spoke softly. "I fear I let my frustration with our society affect my demeanor towards you and for that, I apologize."
Brown eyes bored into hers, hand still cradling her face. Her own hands found his chest and she felt his other arm slid around her waist. In the moment, she relived every interaction, every second they shared up until now. The good, the bad, the doubt and the hurt, the love and the magic, and everything in between.
She pushed herself up on to her tiptoes, sliding her hands around the back of his neck. She pressed her lips into his, just for a moment. Their breaths mingled and foreheads pressed into the other.
"We will get through this" He whispered, almost scared to break the moment.
"I know." She responded, molding herself to him once more.
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Chapter 4: the more that you say, the less I know
series masterlist
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pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader
WC: 3.4k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, alluding to sex but no one actually talks about it
Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You're struggling to find someone you're as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.
A/N: ummmm if you saw me change this from OFC to reader insert... no u didn't<3
also me making an f1 reference teehee i couldn't help myself
May 23, 1814 - At yesterday's ball hosted by the illustrious Cowper family, one could not help but notice Miss Cressida Cowper, whose ethereal gown left onlookers in awe. Rumors abound that the delicate fabric, allegedly from the Far East, lent an air of exotic allure to her ensemble. However, the discerning eye might notice a subtle familiarity. A striking resemblance, one might say, to a certain gown worn by Daphne Bridgerton, now Duchess of Hastings, in the previous season. Perhaps the secrets of this so-called rare silk are not as elusive as the Cowpers would have us believe.
Despite the "exotic" nature of Miss Cowper's dress, Miss Y/N Beaumont took center stage in the Cowper's ballroom. Miss Beaumont has seamlessly transitioned from the limelight of debutante to the darling of London society. But last night saw a notable shift in Miss Beaumont's approach to the season. Despite numerous suitors vying for her favor, Y/N spent most of her time in the company of her dear friend, Penelope, and the comforting presence of her mother, Countess Beaumont. Was the ton's selection of gentlemen not up to Miss Beaumont's standards?
A deep sigh left your lips. You crumpled up Lady Whistledown's column and placed it on your bedside table, already feeling a headache coming in. The previous night's ball had been somewhat of a disaster for you, and you were doing well not to think about it too much. You didn't know what was wrong with you. All the boys had been perfect gentlemen, some even making you laugh. Yet, the aftermath of each dance left you feeling disheartened, a sentiment you couldn't easily shake off. At least Lady Whistledown hadn't mentioned that your dance card was populated only with the names of Colin and Anthony Bridgerton. It would have also included your brothers' names had they not been away on some hunting escapade.
Realistically, you knew you should be disappointed that only a handful of hopeful bachelors showed up to see you today, bouquets and poems in tow, but you couldn't quite bring yourself to feel bad. Truthfully, you just missed Ben. He had been gone for about five days now, and you were pretty miserable without him by your side. The gnawing sensation in your stomach, an instinctual search for him in a crowd only to be met with the reality of his absence, had become an inconvenient routine.
Ben was consuming your thoughts. Your best friend had been gone for days at a time before, but this time was different. You missed the sly smiles he sent your way when one of your brothers said something particularly preposterous. You missed his rambling about art while you had your head comfortably in his lap. You missed his small touches, a hand on the small of your back, or a bump of your shoulders when he sensed you needed reassurance. But most of all, you missed having him nearby, feeling the warmth and comfort of his glowing presence. Perhaps with Benedict by your side, you would have navigated the challenges of the ballroom last night more successfully. Surely, he would notice his best friend feeling anxious and uncomfortable, ready with a witty remark to make you smile and dispel your nerves. But he hadn't been there, and you had floundered trying to connect with men who sought different things in a marriage. You were feeling especially tender tonight, a painful mix of anger, disappointment, and frustration plaguing you. You were surprised by how quickly the novelty of your debut had worn off, and you were left with a gaping Benedict Bridgerton-sized hole in your heart.
In your childhood, the two of you dreamed up a future together, one where you could pursue your literary passions, and Ben could lose himself in his art. Those innocent dreams felt like distant echoes now, and how you yearned for the excitement with which you drafted these plans. To you, that was still the perfect partnership. But none of the gentlemen you had met so far shared an even remotely similar vision. A small part of you secretly wished Benedict was ready to marry, or better yet, ready to marry you. But reality dictated otherwise. Benedict had likely moved on, envisioning a new definition of marital bliss, leaving you with an aching heart and a future devoid of prospects.
A particularly unpleasant train of thought came to your mind, and you found yourself wondering how Benedict was coping. Surely the countryside was a more pleasant experience than the stuffy ballrooms of the ton, but as he was out enjoying the fresh air, did his thoughts circle back to you? Did he regret missing your debut? Or were you merely an afterthought in his countryside musings?
A knock on your door interrupted your swirling thoughts, momentarily diverting the chaos within your mind. You smiled upon seeing your mother's soft features peek through the door.
"Hello, Mum. Is everything alright?"
"I believe I should be asking you that, actually," Countess Beaumont replied carefully, making her way over to your bed. Of course, Primrose had noticed the astounding lack of gentleman callers at their home this morning, a phenomenon you couldn't attribute to your elder siblings dissuading potential suitors.
In turn, you were feeling an acute uneasiness. You knew this conversation would come, but you were not prepared in the slightest. Questions about your altered demeanor had you nervously wringing your hands, avoiding your mother's gaze. Sensing her daughter's distress, Primrose sat beside you, holding your hands and gently squeezing them in hers. The comforting gesture stilled you and brought your eyes to finally meet your mother's.
"I apologize; I did not mean to–" you began, then cleared your throat, changing your answer. "When you met Father, you were both completely enamored since the beginning, correct?"
"Well, perhaps not the very beginning. But after one conversation, yes." Prim laughed, remembering her first meeting with her husband.
"Exactly. I just don't think I'll have something like that. And I know you wanted me to find a love match, but for the life of me, I haven't found someone I'm compatible with, let alone someone who wants to have an actual conversation with me!"
Primrose probed further with utmost tenderness in her voice, mindful of your vulnerable state. "Is that what worries you? Not finding someone right away?"
You sensed that your mother hadn't come to reprimand you for turning away almost all eligible bachelors the night before, or at least, that was no longer the primary intention. No longer feeling defensive, you began articulating your tumultuous thoughts.
"Partially. Lady Whistledown has certainly done me no favors. She set the bar up so high that now if I don't find someone incredible or appropriately titled or very quickly, I fear the whole ton will be disappointed. Lady Whistledown will certainly make her disappointment known. But my life is not a plot line to be used for the ton's gossip sheet. At least not to me. As a woman, choosing who to marry is the most crucial choice I can make about my future, and the only one I will be able to make at all if I marry the wrong person."
Your throat was growing impossibly tight, and your headache was worsening as you tried to assuage the rising anxiety deep in your chest. "I am terrified of squandering this opportunity, of choosing the wrong person and ending up miserable and bored, of not being able to find love so soon and disappointing you and Father–" You cut yourself off with a sob, tears freely running down your reddened cheeks now. Your mother held you in her arms, waiting for the tears to subside before offering reassurance.
After a moment, the countess gently broke the silence, "Those are all very reasonable fears. I was your age when I met your father, but before then, I was feeling very similar to you. Granted, there was no Lady Whistledown sheet at the time, but the ton's gossip still spread with astonishing speed. Darling, believe me, there's nothing to fear. It's more than acceptable if you haven't found a suitable match yet. In fact, it's quite expected. Your father and I were unique, but most connections take time to develop."
Although you now felt much calmer, lingering anxieties still circled your mind. "But what if there is no connection? I haven't felt anything at all with anyone I've talked to so far, so how can I build a marriage from that?"
A sympathetic smile grew on your mother's lips. "That's quite alright. If you don't find a match this year, you can try again next season. But consider you and Benedict, for instance. Two completely opposite children were brought together because you were left out when both families got together. Now you're best friends, practically inseparable," she replied.
You looked on thoughtfully, once again losing yourself in thoughts of your childhood promises to Ben. Pushing the painful thoughts away and tucking them into a small corner of your brain, you continued your questioning.
"I suppose. But I truly can't imagine marrying anyone I met at the Cowper's ball or even anyone at Queen Charlotte's ball. And last night, I heard Alex commenting on the 'night of the marriage' like it was some big event, so now there's one more thing I must worry about when looking for a husband."
Prim felt her heartbeat falter, shock and fury coloring her features. "The wedding night? Alex said this to you?" she managed to eke out.
Sensing you had ventured into uncomfortable territory but unsure where, you hastily responded, "No, no, I overheard him talking about it with someone else. I don't even know what the marriage night is or why it's so important."
Prim let out a breath, somewhat calmed. However, relief was short-lived as you probed further into the details of the marriage night. The countess was frozen, unprepared for this topic, especially so early in the season. But her nervous energy only fueled your curiosity.
After a faltering attempt to form a coherent sentence, Prim cleared her throat and tried again. "The marriage night is an... intimate moment between a married couple. If you marry the right man, which I am sure you will, it will be very enjoyable indeed. Fun, even, so it is nothing to worry about."
"But what happens exactly?" you pressed, curiosity undiminished.
With a sense of finality, your mother responded, "Y/N, I know you have a curious mind, but it is too early for you to know the intricacies right now. The night of the marriage is a wonderful thing for a couple to experience, and that is the only thing you need to know. For now, enjoy the butterflies and keep being excited about your season. There is still much to look forward to. Like Alexander said, the men are there to court you, not the other way around. I apologize if I got a bit overexcited initially, but trust that we are all here for you and will support whichever decision you make." And with that, the subject was closed, and you sensed that further inquiries would only irritate your mother instead of answering your endless questions about this new concept.
---
"Ben!" came your delighted squeal from across the Beaumonts' garden, where you had previously been sitting with a book in your lap. Now, you were running at full speed toward your best friend, overjoyed to have him back. The impropriety of your run was momentarily forgotten in the sheer happiness of having him back.
Reaching Benedict, you felt yourself being swept up in a tight hug, the arms around your waist immediately bringing a comfort you had not felt since before Queen Charlotte's ball. He gently placed you back on the ground but couldn't find it in himself to let go of you completely. He placed his hands on your shoulders, looking you up and down and trying to take you in as much as possible.
"You've grown quite a bit since I last saw you. Six days, has it been? And already you're almost as tall as me," Ben teased, a charming smile on his face. He hoped his joking demeanor would mask the overwhelming fondness that surged within him. The countryside had been miserable, to say the least. The arrangements to purchase the cottage had gone relatively smoothly, and he could have returned after barely a day and a half away. But he forced himself to remain in the country, not wanting to potentially infringe on his best friend's debut. Despite the sleepless nights and restless days, he resisted the urge to return. What he did not resist, and in fact plagued his mind constantly, were thoughts about his aforementioned best friend. He constantly thought of you, dancing at a ball with a good-for-nothing bachelor, or being flirted with by prospective husbands, or worse, flirting back. Benedict had erroneously thought that his time away in the countryside might have quelled the dull ache in his chest, having instead the opposite effect. But now that he was here, with you looking radiant as ever standing right in front of him, he felt his mind quiet down, relishing in the comfort brought by your presence.
You rolled your eyes and smiled, your affection for Benedict shining through even when feigning annoyance. "Hmm, well, you seem to have shrunk during your time away. Most peculiar," you retorted, easily falling back into your familiar banter.
The two of you walked side by side toward the far end of the garden, where your open book had been left hastily abandoned in the grass. Though there was constant chatter between you, Benedict very pointedly avoided inquiring about your coming out, opting to let you broach the once-sensitive topic at your own pace. But six days devoid of an eager audience for your literary escapades left you yearning to share your thoughts on the thrilling novel that had consumed every one of your moments outside of ballrooms and entertaining callers. And Benedict was more than happy to listen. Seating himself on the soft grass beside your forgotten book, he listened intently and interjected whenever appropriate.
Eventually, you had talked all there was to talk about a 300-page book and chose instead to lean on Ben as you read aloud to him from your current novel. On his end, Benedict was all too aware of your head on his shoulder, your voice carrying a soothing cadence. It was easy to get lost in it. He realized he would miss moments like these once you were married. Since childhood, you had been reading to him in this garden, and it would all be over by the end of the season. But of course, the dull ache he was feeling was because he would miss you after you wed. No other reason.
You suddenly set your book down, finally ready to talk about the elephant in the room. "I spoke with my mother last night. About marriage and the like," you looked over at Benedict, searching his face for any clue about what he might be feeling. His eyebrows shot up, and he nodded for you to continue talking, eager to listen to what you had to say.
"It was quite wonderful, actually; I think a lot of the pressure I was feeling has been relieved," you said with a smile, and I felt Ben relax next to you. Encouraged by another nod and Benedict's murmur of That's good, you continued, recounting the previous night's conversation with Primrose with great detail, conveniently leaving out the part where your mother had used you and Ben as an example of a good connection formed over time.
"Well, I suppose she's rather right, isn't she? Most of us aren't going to fall in love at first sight. Friendships work that way too; look at us," Benedict remarked, and you couldn't help but internally laugh at the fact that he had brought up your connection on his own.
Maintaining the brisk pace of the conversation, you continued, "Yes, exactly, she also said that. And by then, I had calmed down quite considerably, so I asked her about the marriage night and told her that I didn't know what it was but asked if I should worry about that as well."
Benedict choked, quickly masking it with a cough as he swallowed thickly. The marriage night? How on earth did you know about that? He subtly adjusted his sitting position, nodding at you to continue. "And what did she say to that?" he struggled out.
"She chastised me for even knowing what it was, of course, but I had overheard Alex talking about it, so she can't really be upset with me at that, can she? Anyhow, she refused to tell me what it was," you glanced at Ben, your expression expectant. He chuckled, gesturing for you to continue, resisting the temptation to elaborate. He knew that explanation should come from a mother to a daughter or perhaps from a husband to a wife, but certainly not from him. He still felt his senses heightened, knowing this conversation was going into unexplored, not to mention forbidden, territory between a proper lady such as yourself and a self-proclaimed rake such as himself. He was acutely aware of the proximity of your knee to his leg, and a subtle heat crept up his neck.
Disappointed but undeterred, you pushed on, "Well, she said it was going to be enjoyable. If I choose the right husband, of course. Ben, are you sure you can't tell me? Not even a clue? My mother's response was quite unsatisfactory. What does she mean 'fun'? Why will the marriage night be 'fun'? Does she mean the kind of fun like when I'm playing pall mall? Or the kind of fun when you take me on nature walks at Aubrey Hall? Why will no one talk to me about this?"
Ben was, quite suddenly and very wholly, overtaken by a heat he felt everywhere that was traveling down his stomach. He could sense that you were exasperated, but he needed a moment to recover from you comparing sleeping with someone to something the two of you did. Benedict felt his heartbeat in his ears and couldn't tear his eyes away from your lips, pursed in frustration. Lips that looked awfully kissable, if he were to be completely honest. His breathing quickened, and he was actively fighting the desire he felt for the girl in front of him, keeping his hands rigid by his sides to avoid touching you in the way he wanted to. He groaned internally from both the intensity of the feeling and the effort of holding it back. His mind was elsewhere, in a candlelit room with you in a nightgown or perhaps a towel, but he knew he had to answer in a semi-normal way, if possible. He blinked quickly and met your eyes, narrowed and expectant.
"It's really not my place, Y/N. The countess would kill me twice if she knew I had talked about this with you at all, let alone told you what it was," he answered finally. However, the immediate drop in your expression made him feel awful, and he was desperate to alleviate the frown on your face.
"Alright," he relented, "what your mother said was true; it will most likely be fun, given you marry the right man. And, um..." Ben scrambled to find a delicate way to explain the night of the marriage without risking a duel with Alexander Beaumont. "It's not like Pall Mall," he said after a pause. "It's more like... scratching an itch? It'll feel fulfilling, hopefully."
You put your head in your hands clearly through attempting to get anything out of him. "Scratching an itch? What does that even mean?" you exclaimed.
Ben would've laughed at the scene had he not still been feeling out of sorts from the previous conversation. He was astounded and a little embarrassed that he had had such an intense reaction to the slightest mention of the marriage night. He shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to get rid of the thoughts running through his mind. This, he reasoned, was precisely why he was a rake. Evidently, he wasn't ready to marry and needed more time in his rakish ways to get it out of his system. Wiping his brow and eager to redirect his thoughts, he turned to you once again, launching into a detailed explanation of the beautiful countryside landscapes he had seen while away and how he was going to paint them.
---
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ruben dias and daughter of pep guardiola.
man.. when i got this request, all i keep thinking about is some forbidden, enemy-to-lovers trope so here it is! i hope you like it!
enemy
you and rúben dias can never be in the same room and it's the main reason why your father's head balding. so what changes?
rúben dias x guardiola!reader
word count: 4.2k
tw: 18+ for graphic sexual contents included inside (aka a sprinkle of smut); drinking, swearing, unprotected sex (and some angry/hate sex)
note: i was writing something along the line of enemy-to-lovers but got stuck midway until this request came in from @kkilp so here we are. my first smut? dang that feels weird saying it was also inspired mildly by anthony and kate of bridgerton (TV series; s2, 2021) but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so ofc this is not proof-read and feedbacks are always welcome! (now lemme go back to repent my sin and go back writing the charles leclerc story i've got...)
“another flower from your daughter, isn’t it?”
rúben could hear one of the coaching staffs commented pep as the spaniard walked in with a huge bouquet of varied flowers on his arms, almost blinding the old man’s sight for direction. pep only laughed to answer his staff’s clarificatory question because it had indeed become a habit for that particular daughter of his to send a humongous array of flowers to her father whenever he and his team won something.
last night happened to be the time when the team had won another EPL title. thus, the biggest arrangement being sent to her father’s office. it was funny for some as she always matches the size to the prestigious level of a trophy.
but of course the entire building loves her. she’d sent each and everyone in this building a bouquet, directly to their houses, albeit in smaller size than the ones delivered for her father. but still, complete with the words hard work always pays off. congratulations, champions! typed perfectly in the middle of the card.
being a florist, she’d also send a basket to anyone who was celebrating with carnations, anyone who was newly having kids with hydrangeas, anyone who was injured with sunflowers.
but him.
he’d like to think himself as someone not petty so no—it wasn’t because he didn’t get a bouquet for himself. he could buy himself one so big the smell would’ve made him throw up for days if a mere basket of flowers was his problem. he just didn’t understand why people couldn’t see how she acted beyond the artificial care and love she’d faked behind those flowers.
rúben was probably the only one who couldn’t relate towards all of the love directed towards her. he could only hope the people would soon belief what he’d gone through, as everybody thought he was crazy for saying she was cold, aloof and rather unfriendly as of late.
as of late being the key word here because god damnit, they used to be so… close? well, he thought they were close but it seemed that for her, they were amicable at best. because one day, she just started to shut him off and she wasn’t shy to show him that. and only to him, no one else. no one of close friends would—and could—do that overnight.
it was similar to those mean girls kind of story plot where you know she’d give you scrutiny so directly but so indirectly in the eyes of everyone else. except that the ending was no where near, unfortunately, for she was now sporting off the cold shoulder to him throughout the whole EPL celebratory party.
rúben was inclined to believe she intended to rile him up even, as she danced the night away with those crazy drunkards he called his teammates. jack, kyle, john amongst the name. he prides himself in moderate amount every time he drinks and he intends to keep it while he’s still an active athlete, but fucking hell did he want to drink till his head bang in the same rhythm as the bass pounding the dance floor.
he just wanted to barge in the midst of the group and had fun with her, just like they used to back when he was still in his freshman year on the etihad side. if she didn’t like it, then good. it gave him the chance for confrontation of whatever it is she was doing.
fuck it, he’d said to himself as he got up from his seat, tired of being the sober friend to a bunch of kids. might as well have my fair share of fun, even if it didn’t involve getting her into the picture.
but in all honesty, she’d seen this move of his. this was what solidified her justification of staying away from him. the moment he was bored out of his mind, that was when he started preying for another long-legged bimbo to bring home.
she could only pray for the woman’s well-being afterwards because she’d learned it the hard way.
for her, rúben was siren personified. he’d talk his way to your pants, feeding you to his soul until you’re left dry. thank god he didn’t make it way past the whole sexual thing—she’d kept him at bay for so long that he’d got bored and the moment she was about to give in was the moment she found out about him moving on.
that night, when she dropped by his house for an impromptu netflix and chill session, when she was ready to accept whatever his advances that night. only for his leading lady to greet her by the door, wearing only lingerie and his shirt unbuttoned.
despite them going apart now, it never soothed her heartbreak.
but she had to see him all the time, thanks to her father’s job. that fact upset her beyond belief that she couldn’t seem to escape him. especially when everyone talks highly of him, when everyone loves him.
there were so many times she wanted to spill out the hot tea but she resisted because it wouldn’t do any good—for her, for him, for her father, for anyone. people would take her as a bitter bitch that didn’t get the dick, she’d held higher regards for herself than to stoop so low.
“let him go and have fun with me.”
the club’s lightning was too dark for her to make out who the hell that was, whispering behind her like he had the world in his palm. obnoxious dick, she’d muttered to herself.
“what did you just say?”
“go away.”
men, couldn’t take a no for his answer as he grabbed her wrist rather harsh, trying to exert some power over her. “no, you didn’t—"
“she said go away, mate,” weird how she knew it was rúben standing behind her before she could see him. “which part of that sentence did you not understand? should i cut off your hands instead?”
the stranger tried to hard not to be intimidated by rúben’s stare but his grip on her hands said the otherwise. “you wouldn’t.”
“would you like to try?”
if she wasn’t just assaulted by the man, she would’ve taken a pity because rúben seething anger and deep distaste like you’re a disgusting human being that doesn’t deserve to live wasn’t something she’d like to experience herself.
“are you okay?”
she didn’t realise she was watching the man scurried off as if he’d caught on fire when rúben went ahead and touched her herself. she’d froze at her place, not knowing where to stand because his hand was placed exactly where the unwanted touch happened—partly she got reminded of what had just happened to her, partly she’d gladly take rúben’s touch over anyone else she didn’t know of.
“hey, you’re okay?”
she couldn’t comprehend what was happening and it felt suffocating to be the centre of everyone’s attention, so she dashed for the restroom for a bit of space.
“talk to me,” she could hear rúben’s voice from the other side of the door, solid 10 minutes after she entered the loo. he’d understood, she whispered to herself as if it was a wonder rúben was smarter than he let on. “please say you’re okay.”
as if she didn’t know the rúben that deserted her for another woman.
god, she hated him for doing this to her. “go away, rúben!”
“like hell i will,” he spat ferociously behind the doors that it startled her. but the soft voice that followed after was more shocking it ran shivers down her back. “i need to know you’re okay.”
the caring thought that laced his words didn’t escape her because she knew, no matter of an asshole rúben was, rúben was always genuine with his words. it was his past actions and the difference between actions and words that scarred her for life—well, at least up until now.
but it was enough for her to choose to shut up instead of acting based on her turmoil of emotions. she’d silently tidy up, fixing her hair and lipstick, while watching the women coming out of the loos one by one till it was only her left. in hope he’d left if she stayed inside for far too long for his liking, then she could sneak out of this place from the backdoor.
all plans were shattered, though, when the door slammed wide open and revealed rúben bulldozing his way inside like a monster truck exhibition. the veins on his arms and neck was bulging angrily, as angry as his face.
“what the fu—”
“i said i need to know you’re okay,” after he spit the words as if that should be obvious to her, he then proceeded to lock the door behind him. “didn’t you hear?”
cowards, afraid anyone walk on you in a woman’s bathroom? “i did, but it doesn’t mean i have to answer you.”
“puta madre,” if she didn’t hold on to the painful memory he’d learned spanish from the ex-girlfriend she met one night too long ago, she’d go meek and weak at his impeccable multilingual tongue. “you’re so frustrating! why is it so hard for you to tell me so?”
“why do want to know?”
“because some asshole just groped you in the ass!” one of his hands shot towards her direction, gesturing from her head to toe in frustration. of her not seeing his point. “surely you’re not okay. no one is after such terrible event.”
“there, you said it youself. i’m not okay,” she rolled her eyes at his reply, hands folding in front of her chest. “why do you care, anyway?”
he shot him a look that was scaring her, and not of the violence he was capable of doing. “do i have to have a reason to care about you?”
“go back in there, rúben,” she tried to stand her ground, faking a rather tired expression when, in fact, she was masking her fear as he dared himself to step closer to her direction. “your drunk friends need your care more than i do.”
his eyes remained intense, burning her down as if she was merely a clothing to burn, as he stepped in front of her. his strong aura forced her to look up at him, and she tried to put some defiance into it in order to show she was in control. or trying to.
“but i don’t care about them,” he lowered his voice as he didn’t see the need to speak louder when his opponent was right under his nose. he knew he’d got her when she shifted her stance from the right leg to her left one. “i care about you.”
the statement obviously caught her off guard, as outmost surprised laced the pair of eyes that—luckily—resembled her mother more. rúben took the chance to close down the gap between their lips, as fast as lightning before she changed her mind, goading her to open up.
as soon as he heard her groaning in surrender, the inside of him ignited in delight. rúben pushed more than what she thought she could give, for he knew she could give more than she thought. his effort drove her to the edge of the sink behind her and she grunted at the crash against the porcelain, but bloody hell the sound effected rúben so much he felt blood rushing south and adrenaline took over his brain.
he’d lifted her up and placed her on the sink in a pace so swift she’d only managed to blink once. he’d slid his hands down her calf, up north towards the rim of her sundress, and she gasped at his ardent touch. felt so hot against the air conditioner of a room so big but only filled with the two of them.
rúben took the liberty to explore her mouth the moment the passage was opened. despite having his eyes closed, he savoured each and every stroke he made for the mental map of hers and he savoured the feeling of her hands sliding everywhere her hands could reach in desperation to hold on for herself while her body unconsciously gave away her control the moment rúben touched the edges of her panties.
she’d arched her back so flexibly rúben had to pull back a bit and admired the crescent shape she was bending herself to be. but not even the moon could compare with the beauty puny in his hands, with pink mauve lipstick smeared lightly and dishevelled hair against the mirror.
“god, you’re beautiful,” and it was all it took for her to sit up and grab his shirt to forcefully meet her lips halfway.
and for rúben, nothing was sexier than when a woman tried to put up a fight against him, even after well-knowing he’d win anyway. so he’d let her think she won, nuzzling his nose downwards, smelling her perfume, her body odour and her desperation all in one. he’d left kisses on his way down, the same moment his hands peeled down the flimsy strap of her sundress, and he swore he’d never touch finer things than the shape of her.
he’d palmed every surface his hands could reach, and took every choked breaths she emitted from his touch. but when he touched the centre of her underwear and felt the drip she was heavily producing, he’d become a goner. he couldn’t take it anymore.
without detaching his lips from her healthy skin, he pulled back an inch to give himself space to undo his pants. when she realised this, she’d drop her hands from his hair and shoulder to help him stash away the jeans. they laughed at this somehow, before they turned muted when rúben dias junior was out of the cage, standing tall and unwavering like him.
the anticipation killed him because jesus christ, with the desire running down her face, he wouldn’t be able to do much anymore. so he kissed her before she could have any second thoughts while his hands aligned himself to her. the first skin-to-skin contact left them breathless, in every literal sense of the word, and rúben could see what she was feeling before she could say anything. the way she closed her eyes in ecstasy as he slipped himself inside of her couldn’t lie.
“oh shit,” he’d read normally women was the only who went all goo at a drop to a man’s voice, but this time rúben could piss himself hearing her doing it. “that feels so good.”
eyes closed, slow pants coming out of that gaping mouth and fucking hell she looks amazingly sexy. and she feels like how she looked like, good god. rúben couldn’t stop his hands from grabbing the sides of her face, some hairs scrunched in them, accidentally closing some parts of her mouth but it didn’t stop her from letting out hot, broken breaths when rúben started moving out of her.
“fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” the portugese giant nipped the bottom lips that looked so juicy from all the kisses exchanged between them, from him. “all for me, huh?”
“yes, you—oh!” she yelped like a siren when rúben slammed himself back to her. “do it right, rúben. do me right.”
rúben didn’t need further command to that, for sure.
she moaned so disgustingly dirty as he guided his cock back and forth, inside and out the now-slick fold, to the brink of heaven on earth. every time he pulled out, she’d moan in pleading, desperate to have all of him inside of her that anyone hearing her whimper would definitely take a pity on her.
“fuck! right there!” she screamed in pleasure as she held rúben’s wrist that was holding her in the face and she wasn’t lying about it. with the way she was rocking his girth and the pressure she’d put on her grip, she was close to the edge. “right there, right there!”
“come on, baby. let go for me.”
fuuuuuuck! ugh, fuck, fuck!
“oh yes, that’s right, baby,” he was now panting so hard the mirror above her was now covered in mist, but how could he stop himself when he looked down and there was the most amazing sight he’d set his eyes on. he ended where she began and she ended where he began. “that’s my girl.”
something inside of her clicked like the electric circuit and all the sudden it was black. but not a frightening blackout, more like black with stars on the back of her head. “fuck, rúben—”
rúben?
rúben dias?
the moment her brain registered the voice indeed belong to rúben dias, she went completely still that rúben had to break her moment. “hey, what’s wrong?”
she badly wished the earth could swallow her right now. the girth still inside of her be damned.
she pressed the crescent eyelids he’d come to love, for they looked as pretty as the moon outside, in a manner rúben didn’t want to know why. because it looked like she didn’t want to open her eyes to meet his. because it looked like regret.
“baby—”
“don’t, rúben.”
she cut him off with the sharpest blade available under her arsenal, her intonation, and at that moment it felt like those film moments when he froze after she stabbed her, digesting the pain and the shock that blanketed the moment.
“what did i do wrong?”
“this, rúben,” and she clenched her jaw, as if it pained her. as if it didn’t pain him to look at the expression she was sporting on her face now—here comes the old, cold you, rúben regretfully noted. “this is what’s wrong. what are you thinking?”
and there was the pair of eyes he loved, for they always speak the truth words lie about. but this time, rúben wished she didn’t open them, for they always speak the truth words lie about, and this time eyes and mouth were seething with anger.
“am i just another rebound for you?”
now that was a serious accusation. “where the hell does that come from?”
“you don’t like me, rúben,” if she wasn’t spitting stupid thoughts, rúben would certainly take the pleasure to fawn over her fiery stance right now. nothing pleased him more than putting people down to follow the order, and she certainly exuded rebellion from her eyes alone. “you never do.”
his large hand jumped to pull her face upwards to face him, rather powerfully to show who’s the boss and she just crossed the line. the movement caused his dick to slide back deeper into her, unexpectedly that she had to hold herself from moaning at the feeling—this feeling as a whole, more likely—but the distance he eliminated between them allowed him to inhale her suppressed whimper.
peering down to her in an arrogance manner she wanted to wipe from the faces of the earth, rúben raised his left eyebrow, challenging her back. “if i don’t like you, why did i just fuck your brains out?”
“as i said—”
“rebounds, you say?” and he didn’t intend to let her speak, as he instead pulled her closer to him by the waist. the sensation he could pull out of her mouth was the only thing he allowed between them, broken gasps and all. “if you know me as well as you think you are, then tell me,”
her chest was burning at the sensation he was whispering so close to her, inhaling what she exhaled, inhaling what he exhaled. on fire at the sensation of him pulling out slowly from her at the same time the hand on her waist travelled inside, towards the aching clit deprived of the friction from his groin.
“tell me, baby,” god, rúben wanted to close off the gaping mouth, as shut as the fluttering eyelids. “have you ever heard of me doing that? have you ever seen me, with your own eyes, doing that?”
“rúben—”
his hand was so close yet so far, caressing the insides of her thighs, and she hated the fact she needed him to touch her. now, or else she’d combust. “answer me.”
“no—”
“there you go,” and there was the satisfaction he’d recognised from the arch of her back and neck, as he hurled himself back to her soft spot, allowing him to pepper kisses along the underside of her chin, down along her throat, nailing her in her place further. “god, if only you knew…”
only when rúben pulled away from the space in the middle of her decolletages did she open her eyes once more, and she was rendered rather speechless at how rúben was looking at her. she was almost scared to ask but knew she needed the answer. “knew what?”
“it’s maddening,” the hand in her face moved to a different angle, now his forefinger was tracing the edges of her lips. the very one he destroyed with the harsh, heated kisses they exchanged. his artwork. “how much you consume my very being.”
before her heart could leap out of its place, rúben kissed her lips once more with so much fervour and everything else remained in his body. different to their earlier kisses full of lust, this one was lingering but unspeakable feeling and passion and lust and love.
love?
whatever they were feeling certainly wasn’t love, was it? they hate each other, for fuck’s sake.
“eyes on me, querida,” rúben’s voice snapped her thoughts away and she obeyed him, forgetting how easy it was to spare this particular man the hatred. before she saw that ex-girlfriend of his on the doorsteps, before she resorted to her self-defence mechanism.
“hello, there,” and he felt her melting away, as he recognised the whimpers she let out this time while he was rocking their boat in rhythm back and forth was nothing sort of what she gave 15 minutes ago. “there’s the eyes i love the most.”
love?
but before her mind could drift somewhere else, rúben finished off what he started. he drove her to the end fast and without mercy this time, leaving him helpless under his control of pace. his hand was no longer feathering the skin, they’d made themselves useful by dipping into the blossoming bud between rúben and her. the crude touch against her soft, plump crown was the striking contrast she needed to release herself for the second time, all frustration and thoughts were now focused on the finishing line. so focused that she didn’t feel herself shaking, trembling as rúben assaulted all of her senses—his kiss, his touch, his smell, his drive.
rúben sensed her going weaker from his all-out attack, not wanting to hold back himself either, not when he finally had her within his whim. he took her hands to curl them behind his neck and pulled up her knees so he could lift her up before turning their position around. he was now sitting on the lid of the toilet nearby while she sunk down on him and good fucking lord did she wrap him, all of his 9-inches, so tightly and so deeply like she was made for him.
and she felt it, too, for she sling her arms on his shoulder, hanging for her dear life. rúben couldn’t help but pull her in his grasp, closer than before—no air, no space between them—and the feeling of conjoining with her altogether almost undid him before her he had to stop himself from moving. rúben rested his head on her chest, wanting to calm himself down first as he placed open-mouthed kisses and nips on the outline of her nipples, but the action seemed to turn her on as he felt her clenching around him.
“fuck, don’t stop,” he involuntarily said, and she took it as an invitation to take the wheel from him and ride them out. “fuck, baby. fuck yes, i’m coming.”
“oh, yes, yes, yes!” she’d screamed as rúben manoeuvred her hips back and forth. combined that with the sinful components of his mouth against her breast, licking and sucking the sensitive bud like there was no tomorrow, it didn’t take long for her to reach her, by far, most satisfying high. “oh joder, rúben!”
she’d relish the feeling of soaring high in the sky all over again as she came down to earth. rúben was already holding her by the waist and a small part of her back so she didn’t crumble down trembling messily, small kisses were already scattered all over the hollow part on her shoulder blades, like he didn’t care if she just pulled out his hair so hard she was now afraid he’d catch up to her father’s balding.
“i love you,” but this time she didn’t go all ice on him. “i’m sorry i made you think the otherwise.”
and rúben, being the perfect gentleman, proved how sorry he was by sending her a bouquet of flower the next day. her, a florist, a bunch of imported fresh white tulips before she could wake up and go to the flower market early in the morning. how he did that when it wasn’t tulip season, she didn’t know, and the effort didn’t pass as overlooked by her eyes.
yes, the effort of scouting the rare tulips, but most of all the effort he’d go just to saywhat the flowers implied; i’m sorry. just like his words.
of course he was forgiven.
#anon asks#oh-saints answers#oh-saints writes#oh-saints writes requests#ruben dias#rúben dias#ruben dias blurb#ruben dias blurbs#ruben dias imagines#ruben dias imagine#ruben dias one shot#ruben dias oneshot#ruben dias fic#ruben dias fics#ruben dias fanfic#ruben dias fanfics#ruben dias fanfiction#ruben dias angst#ruben dias smut#ruben dias fluff#ruben dias x you#ruben dias x y/n#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias x oc#footie fics#football fics#football fanfiction
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Omg I am so in love with the dynamic anomthoby and 2022 reader have. Would it be too much to ask for a scenario where she’s stays and he proposes to her in their usual banter type of way? Keep up the good work and stay healthy!!
Confessions
Series: Time Travel au
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader
Word count: 2.7k
A/N: I’m combining this with a similar request I got in the comments of the last part I posted “What about one where 2022 reader reveals she’s from the future to Anthony and his family and their reactions?”
This is just more fluff, I love these two too much to make it very angsty.
Oh, and if there’s more that you’d like to see from this AU please send me a request!
This is a continuation of the first part of this au which you can find here. And in the same universe as this drabble.
bridgerton masterlist
“What’d you say?” Anthony asks.
“We can’t elope,” You reiterate as you take Anthony’s hands in yours. Squeezing them lightly as you pull them into your chest. The hopeful glimmer in his eyes almost convinces you to say yes, to fall completely into the madness that takes over you when you’re with him, and just go for it.
But you know you can’t. You can’t let him do this to himself.
You can’t help but love him. The way that he makes you feel, the fact that he respects you, sees you as his equal, but also cares for you is so new, but feels so…right.
Getting married at all seems insane. Getting married to someone you’ve only known for a month? You’ve fallen headlong into crazy. If you were in your normal life, your old life, this would be enough to have your friends ready to stage an intervention. But it’s perfectly normal here. It’s expected.
And there is a very real, terrifying part of you that desperately wants to say yes.
Anthony stares at you for a beat.
“You don’t want to marry me?” He asks slowly.
You can see him starting to turn in on himself, the seed of doubt at your return of his affections growing exponentially behind his eyes in real time.
“Jesus Christ, Anthony! First of all, that’s not what I’m saying. And second of all, you didn’t even ask me!” You nearly shout at him, desperate to reassure him that you feel the same way about him. But also reminding him that you need time to think and to process.
You sigh.
“Ant, I think I’m in love with you, but we’ve only known each other for a month, I’m not going to run away with you,” You tell him plainly. “What would your family think?”
“They would-” He starts to argue before you cut him off.
“Your mother would kill us both, and you know it,” You tell him with a hard look. “I don’t want to die and I certainly don’t want you to either. So let’s go about this reasonably, okay?”
“Fine, if we stay, and have an entirely unnecessary engagement,” He offers, already looking annoyed at the idea of putting of what he feels like is the obvious next step. “Then would you agree to marry me?”
“This is insane,” You sigh as you close your eyes, shaking your head. Maybe you hit your head when you turned up here because you’d have to be brain-damaged to accept a marriage proposal like this. “But yeah, apparently I’ve gone completely crazy ever since I got here, so of course I’ll marry you,” You tell him, a smile spreading across your face.
Anthony grins as he cups your face in his hands and pulls you forward to kiss him.
He kisses you with so much fervor that you nearly forget everything else.
Nearly.
You want to stay. You can’t explain it, but you can’t imagine your life without him anymore.
And Anthony doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know that you’re not from this time. How do you even begin to explain that to someone?
Or that you tried to get back to your own time, that you have no idea how you’d gotten here in the first place, but that you’d paced around the Briarly’s back garden for hours, day after day wondering if there was any way to get home.
But now you could hardly imagine going back. Sure there were things, people especially, that you missed, your family and friends, but you have new friends, and now it seemed you might have a new family as well.
But you need to be honest with him. To tell him what little you do understand about how you arrived in this time and place.
You break away.
“Anthony, I need to tell you something,” You tell him. “Before you decide to marry me there’s something you need to know.”
“What is the matter?” Anthony asks as he takes your face into his hands, his eyes tracing along the furrow of your brow as he realizes suddenly how troubled you look.
“I’m not from here. When I say that what I really mean is that I’m not from this time,” You try to explain. “Literally.”
“I woke up here. I’m from the year twenty-twenty-two,” You don’t want to scare Anthony off, I mean, that is truly the last thing you want to happen, so you try to keep your voice even and calm as you state the facts of your situation for him.
“I remember being in my house, my real home, and the next second I was lying flat on my back in what I later found out was Lady Briarly’s garden, a completely different part of the world, in a completely different year.”
Anthony just stares at you, his eyes searching your own as you just look back at him with a small, semi-believable reassuring smile on your face.
“Please say something,” You finally ask as you break the awful silence between you, not being able to bear it any longer.
You had been so happy just a few minutes ago, and now you can’t help the feeling of dread that beings to prickle at your stomach.
“Is this some sort of joke?” Anthony asks slowly.
“God, of course not,” You reassure him quickly. “I’m being one hundred percent serious.”
“And you’re not mad?” He asks.
You shake your head. “I’m not crazy, I know women are institutionalized for all sorts of ridiculous things during most of history, this time period included, but I need you to believe me. I’m not crazy.”
“You can ask Lady Briarly,” You add. “She’s happy to corroborate my story.”
“Right, of course,” He replies with a nod. “Ahhh…” He trails off.
“If you need time to think or process alone that’s totally fine,” You tell him. “But I’m here if you have any questions.”
“I will give you leave,” He finally tells you. “Good night, (Y/N).”
“Goodnight,” You call after him.
You stand there as you watch him leave. He never turns once to look back at you. And you try not to let that pierce your heart.
“You and Miss (Y/L/N) have been looking very cozy as of late,” Benedict teases his older brother as Anthony takes a seat in the chair across from where Benedict is standing at his easel.
“I think she might be mad,” Anthony blurts out. “That or she really does not want to marry me.”
“Well she’s always seemed a bit odd,” Benedict replies, though he never takes his eyes off the canvas in front of him. “Outside of the fact that she puts up with you, of course.”
“Very funny,” Anthony replies with a roll of his eyes as he slumps down in the chair even more. “No, I tried to get her to elope with me last night.”
“Anthony!” Benedict hisses as his eyes snap up from his work, wide with surprise as he stares at his brother in abject horror.
“Yes, yes, but then she started trying to tell me all this madness about being from the future and traveling through time,” Anthony continues.
Benedict considers what he said for a moment.
“She is very forward thinking, perhaps that is what she meant?”
“That’s what I thought too, but she insisted that she’s from the future,” Anthony replies.
“Oh dear,” Benedict murmurs.
“She said Lady Briarly would corroborate her story,” Anthony adds.
“Well, what did Lady Briarly say when you asked her?” Benedict asks him.
“(Y/N) just told me last night,” Anthony admits as he glances over at his brother. Desperate for some kind of advice, some suggestion of what to do. “I haven’t had a chance to speak with either of them again.”
“Well, I believe mother sent them an invitation to tea today. So perhaps you’ll get your chance to find out the truth this afternoon,” Benedict informs him. “Your soon-to-be fiancée is mad, oh Anthony, now it all makes sense,” He adds with a chuckle.
“Don’t you have some fruit to paint or something?” Anthony snaps as he stands from his chair, pushing out of the room, already regretting his attempt to confide in his brother.
“Lady Briarly, oh it’s so good to see you both!” Violet Bridgerton greets you warmly.
You smile nervously at her. You’re already nervous about being in her presence given what Anthony asked of you last night, but after the bomb you dropped on him right after, you’re even more nervous, about what he might say or do now, in the presence of his entire family.
You want to trust that he’ll believe you. But honestly, if it hadn’t happened to you, you wouldn’t be very likely to believe someone if they told you a story like that.
“It’s delightful to see you as well, Lady Bridgerton,” Lady Briarly greets her in return.
You almost stick out your hand to shake Lady Bridgerton’s, entirely on instinct which Lady Briarly quickly and discreetly bats back down.
���It’s so good to see you again, Lady Bridgerton,” You say as you smile at her.
“Lady Briarly, might I have a word?” Anthony asks as he joins your group. His eyes flicker to your own for a moment, but you can’t seem to get a read on what he’s thinking at all which does nothing to quell the nerves in your stomach.
“Of course, my dear,” She replies as she allows him to escort her out of the room.
“Then you must join me and meet Anthony’s sisters,” Lady Bridgerton says as she crosses your arm with hers and leads you over to the seating area where the rest of the Bridgerton siblings are sitting.
Anthony clears his throat as he turns back to face Lady Briarly once they’re alone in the hallway. “Lady Briarly, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Miss (Y/L/N) has informed me of her…”
“Her story, yes, she told me this morning,” Lady Briarly supplies with an understanding smile.
“Ah, and she said that you would be happy to explain what happened to me,” Anthony adds with a sigh of relief. At least now he can get to the bottom of this without worrying that he himself has gone mad as well.
“Of course, I can only imagine how challenging this must be for you, I mean, when it happened to us I think we all thought we’d gone mad,” Lady Briarly admits with a half-hearted chuckle.
When she sees how serious, and frankly, how nervous Anthony looks she clears her own throat and nods.
“She appeared in the garden one day while my son was playing. He’s only seven of course, but in all honestly, he does not have the imagination to come up with this kind of tale. He was playing and suddenly she appeared. When she woke up she had no idea where she was or how she’d gotten here,” Lady Briarly explains to him.
“She’s just as sane as you and I,” Lady Briarly adds.
“And you just… took her in? A complete stranger?” Anthony asks in confusion.
“Well she had nowhere else to go,” Lady Briarly explains. “She was so scared and confused when it first happened, and even now there are times where it all overwhelms her. She doesn’t fit in because she knows nothing about our world. Think about how lonely she must feel. That’s why I was so glad she found you, Lord Bridgerton.”
“I want you both to be happy, but I know I cannot force you to believe me, or to believe her, but I also want you to ask yourself why she would lie about this?” She asks. “She took a great risk by telling you her story, a story that could land her in the papers, or worse, an asylum if the tale got out. Which means she must trust you a great deal. So what are you going to do with all that trust?”
Anthony considers Lady Briarly for a moment, and then her words.
“You’ve certainly given me a great deal to think about Lady Briarly, thank you for your candor, but I think I’ve already made my decision,” He tells her. “Shall we return to the others?”
“Are you going to marry Anthony?” Hyacinth asks you suddenly.
“Hyacinth!” Lady Bridgerton exclaims, unprepared for the sudden outburst from her youngest.
“What? Why else would she be here?” Hyacinth asks her mother.
You have to hold in your laughter at the precociousness of Anthony’s little sister. Maybe there isn’t very much difference between your time and this, after all, an outspoken girl like Hyacinth would fit right in in the 21st century.
“You cannot ask people questions like that, it’s not polite,” Lady Bridgerton chastises her.
“It’s quite alright, she has every right to be curious,” You tell her with a wink. “And I have every right not to answer a personal question like that.”
Hyacinth deflates slightly with your refusal to entertain her impertinent questioning and runs off to find one of her brothers once she realizes she’s not going to get the answers she wants out of you.
When Lady Briarly and Anthony rejoin the group you move to stand so that you can speak with Anthony, you know he’ll have more questions for you, and you’d rather get it over with if you’re being completely honest.
But before you can make your way over to him he’s clearing his throat, garnering the attention of his family.
“I have an announcement I’d like to make,” He tells them all as you stand in the middle of the group, staring back at him with wide eyes.
“I have asked Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to marry me, and she said yes,” He tells them as he steps towards you before lacing his fingers with your own.
“Oh my!” Lady Bridgerton exclaims as she stands from her seat abruptly.
“I’m so happy for you both,” She gushes as she pulls you both into tight hugs. “I know you’ll make each other very happy.”
“I’m just glad Anthony agreed to have the wedding here,” You tell her with a smile as she presses her lips to your cheek.
“What do you mean?” She asks as she steps back from you, looking at you quizzically.
“Well, he wanted to elope,” You admit before Anthony can stop you.
“Anthony Bridgerton!” She nearly shouts as she whips her head towards her son.
“But we didn’t! We won’t!” Anthony is quick to add in a futile attempt to avoid his mother’s wrath.
“You certainly will not!” Lady Bridgerton hisses. “Do you want to kill me?!”
“Look what you’ve done,” Anthony hisses in your ear.
“I’m sorry, I forgot that was scandalous!” You whisper back, though you can’t quite stop yourself from laughing quietly at the hilarity of it all.
“You can’t keep feigning ignorance on everything forever, my dear,” He tells you as his mother seems to recover slightly from the shock and pulls Lady Briarly aside to start making plans.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” You tell him with a smug smile.
“I didn’t think you’d accept everything this easily,” You admit as you turn to face him properly.
“In the end, it all seemed quite simple when Lady Briarly laid it out. You trusted me, and I trust you, what else is there?” Anthony tells you.
“As long as you promise to stay here with me, that’s all that I care about,” He adds as he takes your hands in his. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” You tell him as you grin up at him.
You can’t say you’ve ever felt so incandescently happy. And you can certainly get used to this feeling.
“Are you certain that you don’t want to elope?” Anthony asks.
“Anthony!” Both you and Lady Bridgerton shout.
#Bridgerton#Bridgerton Series#anthony bridgerton#time travel au#anthony bridgerton series#anthony bridgerton fanfic#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x ofc#bridgerton fanfic#bridgerton oneshot#anthony bridgerton x you#bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton x y/n#anthony bridgerton drabble#anthony bridgerton one shot#bridgerton drabble
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The Duchess (Chapter 2) Audiobook Version
Chapter 2 (Audiobook Version)
Series Summary: After coming into a title you did not expect, you have a chance encounter with a handsome rescuer.
Chapter Summary: You have another chance encounter
Audio Length: 10min 12 sec
Bridgerton Masterlist
A/N: Want to have my story narrated to you with accented A.I. voiceover? Then enjoy this audiobook version of chapter 2! Let me know if you like it and I'll make an audiobook version of chapter 3 (in the works btw!!!).
#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x black!reader#anthony bridgerton fanfic#bridgerton imagine#Anthony Bridgerton x ofc
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Sister or Daughter
Request: omg hear me out. I had an idea for another Bridgerton fic. it is still Anthony's daughter but with a twist. what if to avoid a scandal the family decided to tell the people that the baby was violets and Edmunds? (maybe he died a lil later?) and she grows up thinking it as well, basically violet adopts the baby, and she is raised as Anthony's sister but he is like incredibly protective of her, more than his other sisters ofc and a lot more gentle. anyways the only ones who know the truth are the bridgerton sibling except Francesca, hyacinth, and Gregory cause I feel like they were too young at the time and could have been fooled. anyways what if the truth comes to light? maybe not to the public but to yn? what if a sibling in a fit of rage says something about it to use it against Anthony and then that's how they find out and its just chaos?
Anthony Bridgerton x daughter!reader
Summary: Y/N finds out her life has been a lie.
Warnings: lying, i don't really know what to put, but it's angsty lol
a/n: thank you for the request!! sorry it took like forever to get out! hope you all enjoy!
(gif not mine)
Anthony paces outside of the drawing room nervously. He knows he has to tell his parents about the pregnancy, but his mind is going through all of the worst case scenarios. He's not sure his hands have ever been this sweaty. And it's hard to breathe.
"Anthony? Son, are you all right?" He turns to find his father in the entry of the drawing room.
"Yes. Uh, ye-- yes, father. I must talk to you and mother about something." Anthony says, putting his hands behind his back, fiddling with his fingers.
"Of course. Come in." Edmund encourages. Anthony walks in, Edmund close behind him. Edmund joins his wife on the couch, both looking at Anthony expectantly. Benedict, Daphen, Eloise, and Colin are on the other side of the room, Benedict drawing, Daphne doing embroidery, and Colin and Eloise are reading books.
"What is it, dear?" Violet sweetly asks.
"Um... well, I... uh..." Anthony takes a deep breath. "I was having relations with a woman and she is now with child." He quickly states.
Anthony's siblings all seem to choke on air at the news, staring at the eldest Bridgerton sibling with wide eyes.
"What?" Edmund asks, not certain if he actually understood his eldest.
"I... a woman is with child. My child." Anthony says. His voice shakes slightly as his nerves have rised even more.
"Oh, dear." Violet whispers, putting a hand to her head.
"Are you certain?" Edmund asks.
"Yes." Anthony nods.
"We, uh... we should go." Benedict mumbles to Colin.
"We should." Colin whispers, nodding. Yet neither of them move.
"All right, well... do you plan to be in its life?" Edmund asks. "As the father, I believe you shall be, but it is your decision."
"I... more than likely, yes." Anthony answers. He's not fully sure if he's ready to be a father and he doesn't even know how he feels about the whole situation yet, but if the child needs anything, he would be there.
"What about our reputation? This could destroy everything. The children may never marry." Violet stresses.
"We do need to figure out how to avoid a scandal. If possible." Edmund agrees.
"I understand." Anthony says.
"We could say the baby is ours. Our ninth child. That's believable. Then Anthony can be around them and... and perhaps the mother." Violet says.
"Nobody outside of this room is to know. Aside from some of the help since it will be obvious your mother isn't pregnant." Edmund says.
"We'll tell everybody I'm bedridden. The last pregnancy with Hyacinth was hard enough, it's a believable story." Violet says.
"Your other siblings cannot know. Not Francesca, Gregory, or Hyacinth. No friends, no neighbors, nobody." Edmund declares.
"I understand." Anthony nods once.
- - -
During the pregnancy with Anthony's child, the mother had moved in with the Bridgertons. But as far as the ton knew, she had left town. She never left the Bridgerton house, often alone in her temporary bedroom. After the baby was born, she was going to actually leave town.
Violet stayed in the house and the family often went to Aubrey Hall for visits so that Violet and Elizabeth, the mother of Anthony's child, could actually get fresh air. And so they were around less prying eyes.
But during one of those visits, Edmund had died of a bee sting. It sent the family down a spiral, Violet going into a depression. Anthony had to step up and take care of his siblings in the wake of his father's death, pushing his own grief aside for them.
He was handed all of the responsibilities, everything coming at him full force.
But after nine secretive, stressful, terrible nine months, the baby was finally born.
The labor took a few hours and only some of the maids were in the room with Elizabeth. After the baby was born, a maid came out of the room to where Anthony was waiting in the hallway.
Anthony looks up at the door opening, seeing the nurse walk out, a small bundle of blankets in hand.
"Here she is." The nurse softly announces, gently patting the baby's back to keep her calm.
"She? It's a girl?" Anthony asks.
"Yes, my lord." The nurse nods, a soft smile on her face. "Would you like to hold her?"
Anthony hesitates, but after a moment he nods. The nurse carefully transports the baby into Anthony's arm, the man easily finding a comfortable position to hold her in. He knows full well how to hold a baby, having many younger siblings.
Once she's in his arms, Anthony feels an overwhelming sense of love and protection come over him. Tears spring to his eyes, but he holds them back not wanting to cry in front of the maid.
"I'm sure your mother wouldn't mind you naming her." The nurse says.
"I'd have to check. Since she's a, uh... a sibling... she'd have to start with an I." Anthony says.
"I know she isn't supposed to be your child. But you should be able to name her, at the very least. I or no I. Miss Elizabeth didn't have any suggestions." The nurse states, a caring smile on her face.
"Could I be alone with her, please? The baby?" Anthony asks.
"Of course." The nurse nods before retreating back into the bedroom.
Anthony takes a deep breath, looking down at his daughter. Well, as far as most other people are concerned, his sister.
"Hello, darling." Anthony quietly greets, slowly walking to the bench in the hall. He's scared if he moves too quickly he'll drop her. Or that she'll break. "I'm sorry this is a... unique situation." He says, sitting down. He holds the baby close to him.
"Perhaps one day when you're older you'll understand. Or this will all go terribly and the family may fall apart. God, I don't know what I'm doing." Anthony mumbles to himself.
He stares down at the baby who has her eyes peacefully shut. Anthony strokes her tiny hand with his pointer finger, only stopping when the baby wraps her hand around his finger lightly.
Anthony softly smiles, looking back to her face and finding her eyes now open, matching dark brown eyes staring up into his.
"You're so beautiful, my darling." Anthony whispers. He feels the tears spring back up, a sad but loving smile on his face. "I already love you so much."
Before he can help it, a tear falls out of Anthony's eye, dropping right onto the baby's cheek. The baby starts to whine and Anthony quickly brushes the tear away.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, dear. My bad." Anthony mutters, making sure her face is completely dry. A few moments later, Y/N is calm again. "I suppose you need a name."
After thinking for a few moments, Anthony constantly rubbing his hand over the baby's head or stomach or hand or cheek, he finally comes up with something.
"How about Y/N? You like Y/N?" He asks her, earning a small babble in return. "Yes. I think it's good. Y/N Bridgerton it is, then."
Anthony places the softest kiss to her forehead, knowing he's going to do anything to make sure that she grows up happy and loved. Rather she knows she's his child or not.
- - -
The first few years of Y/N's life were a little hard for the Bridgertons. At least for Violet and Anthony. Anthony found it heartbreaking that he had to simply just watch as his daughter was raised, calling him by his name and Violet by 'mama'. He wishes he could be called 'papa' by her, but knows he can't.
Benedict spends a lot of time trying to get Anthony's mind off of the child, but even after multiple glasses of alcohol, she's still all Anthony can think about. How she can't be his and how they're lying to her every day.
He hates that most of the family is lying to her, not able to tell her the truth. No, she probably wouldn't understand it at her young age, but he still hates that they know and are not able to change anything.
Despite pretending to not be her father, Anthony couldn't help but to treat her differently from his sisters. He's more protective and fusses over her much more when she gets a scrape on the knee than if any of his sisters were to get one.
Anthony lets Y/N steal his food all the time and gives her pieces of food. Something he has never done with his sisters, unless they were upset and he was trying to cheer them up.
He does whatever Y/N asks him to.
"Why does Anthony favor Y/N?" Hyacinth once asked her two oldest sisters.
"He doesn't favor her. They simply just have a... a closer bond." Daphne tells her.
"But they're so far apart in age." Hyacinth says.
"Well, so are us and you. We get along, don't we?" Daphne asks.
"Yes. But you two don't fuss over me like he does with her. He doesn't fuss over anybody else like that but Y/N." Hyacinth says.
"Well, he had to raise her since she was born since she was born at a... a difficult time." Eloise says. "He probably just feels obligated to look after her more. He's practically her father." She says, earning an elbow to the ribs from Daphne.
"I think papa would've loved her." Hyacinth says.
"I think so, too." Daphne softly smiles at her youngest sibling who runs off to play with Gregory. Daphne turns to Eloise, a stern look on her face. ""Practically her father"? Are you mental?"
"What? He is." Eloise says.
"Yes, but nobody can know that." Daphne hisses.
"Why must we lie?" Eloise asks.
"Because of our reputation. You know having a child when not married is unacceptable." Daphne says.
"If he loved her enough, he would not care about that." Eloise says.
"You know he loves her. It was a difficult decision." Daphne says.
"It was barely his decision. Mother and father came up with it all on their own. They gave him no say." Eloise says.
"I suppose that's true. But we were sworn to secrecy and we are keeping the secret. If Anthony or mama ever decide to tell the world, or even just the others, then that's okay. But we are not going to be the ones to say anything."
"All right, all right."
- - -
"Now, what story would you like?" Anthony questions Y/N. The five year old is tucked into bed and every night Anthony reads her a story before she goes to sleep.
"Make one up." Y/N grins.
"Make one up?" Anthony repeats, Y/N nodding, a small grin on her face. "Oh, my. All right, give me a few moments."
Anthony sits on the bed, resting against the soft headboard. He puts his hand on Y/N's head, going through her hair and gently massaging her scalp. "Okay..." Anthony starts before beginning the story he was able to come up, adding things as he goes.
By the end, Anthony looks down, finding Y/N sound asleep. Anthony softly smiles, brushing some hair out of her face. He gets off the bed and leans down, kissing her forehead gently.
"Goodnight, my love." Anthony whispers.
- - -
Anthony and Daphne are arguing, against each other due to the whole Duke of Hastings relation that seems to be going on between Daphne and him.
Neither siblings notices the five year old standing outside the drawing room. Y/N had a nightmare and wanted to find one of her family members for comfort, but was distracted by the yelling between the oldest Bridgerton boy and girl.
"If anybody were to find out about you two in the garden, it would ruin this family's reputation!" Anthony shouts.
"Oh, you are one to talk!" Daphne sarcastically laughs. "If anybody were to ruin it, it would be you! You are the one to have a child out of wedlock!"
"I know what I did!" Anthony bellows. "I know what happened! And I have to live with it every day. But nobody knows about that."
"Well, they should! You choose to lie to your daughter every day of her life instead of telling her the truth! She should be able to know!"
"She's five! How would she understand?"
"She would eventually! Y/N deserves to know that you are her father and not her brother. You lie every day and we have to lie, too, and it is tiring!"
"What, you think I enjoy lying to her? You think I don't want to be the one she immediately runs to when getting hurt or-or you think I don't want to be called 'papa' instead of Anthony? But--"
"But it would ruin our reputation, yes, I know. But is that really more important than your daughter knowing the truth?"
"I'm your daughter?"
Both siblings turn to find a teary eyed Y/N in the doorway of the room. Anthony feels his heart drop and his eyes widen. Even if she were to ever find out, it should not have been this way.
Daphne's heart breaks at the sad look in her niece's eyes. She knows Y/N shouldn't have found out about her true relation to the family this way and she feels awful that she's the one who accidentally informed her.
"Y/N--" Anthony starts, beginning to go over to her, but the young girl dashes out of the room, running as quickly as she can to get away.
Anthony lets out a deep sigh, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair.
"I'm sorry, Anthony. I-- I didn't know she was there. I wouldn't want her to find out this way." Daphne says.
"No, it... you were right. She should know. I know that. I'm the one who let the lies start in the first place. I should've told mother and father that I wanted to keep her. Actually keep her... as mine. But I went along with their plan."
"You should go talk to her." Daphne says.
"If she'll let me." Anthony scoffs. "God, what have I done?" He mutters to himself.
Anthony makes his way out of the room, going to Y/N's room. He walks in, finding Y/N, his mother, and the rest of his siblings there. They had all heard Y/N sobbing and rushed in.
Y/N managed to explain what she had heard. Violet was instantly bombarded with questions from her three youngest. The three who knew all exchanged glances, worried about what was to come, but also relieved the secret was finally out.
"Let's go, children." Violet urges.
"Will you explain everything then?" Hyacinth questions.
"Not tonight. Go back to bed." Violet orders her three youngest. She gains complaints from them, but still sends them to bed. After the three are gone, Violet shuts the door after them.
"Anthony, what happened?" Violet strictly asks.
"Daphne and I got into a fight. The truth about Y/N came out." Anthony briefly explains.
"All of you knew?" Y/N asks, looking between her siblings and mother. Well... she guesses they're her aunt, uncles, father, and grandmother. They all have guilty looks, giving the girl her answer.
"Y/N, darling..." Anthony tries.
"No! Get out!" Y/N yells. "I don't want to see any of you!"
"Y/N--"
"You've been lying! Leave!"
"Let's go." Benedict ushers his two younger siblings out.
Y/N lays on her side, her back facing the two remaining Bridgertons as she starts to cry. Her sobs break Anthony's heart, the man only wanting to scoop her into his arms and hold her tightly.
"Come along, Anthony." Violet quietly encourages. "She isn't going to talk right now."
"I'm sorry, dearest. I never wanted to lie to you. I hope one day you can forgive me." Anthony tells Y/N. He leaves the room, beelining for his office, his eyes stinging as he forces his tears to stay in.
Anthony slams the office door shut behind him, pacing the room. He slumps into his chair, burying his face in his hands. Tears stream down his face, a sob managing to escape him here and there.
Anthony pours a glass of whiskey, downing it immediately. He repeats the process, ignoring the tears.
- - -
Anthony lets out a small groan as he wakes up. His eyes squint, blinded by the sun filtering into the room. He lifts his head up, realizing he's still at his desk in his office. An empty glass is next to him, the almost empty bottle of whiskey not far away either.
Anthony groans, holding his head, grimacing at the pain.
"Oh, God." Anthony grumbles. He remembers last night's events and his heart cracks more. He doesn't know how Y/N is going to react to everything or how it's going to be different now.
Anthony sighs, knowing he has to get up, so he reluctantly leaves the office. Anthony changes into fresh clothes before going to the drawing room where he finds his entire family.
"Morning, dear." Violet greets.
"Morning." Anthony quietly says. He looks to where Y/N is sitting on one of the sofas next to Francesca, the older girl reading to her. "Morning, Y/N."
The girl doesn't pay him any attention, keeping her focus on the book Francesca has.
"She, um... she isn't talking to anybody but the youngest three." Daphne informs.
"Don't blame her. We have been lying to her face for five years." Benedict murmurs, earning smacks from his mother and older brother. "Ow."
"Y/N, may I talk to you?" Anthony asks. She still doesn't acknowledge him.
"How long do you think this will go on for?" Colin asks.
"I'd personally never talk to you lot again if you lied to me about my family." Eloise comments.
"Shut it." Daphne quietly hisses.
- - -
Two weeks later, Y/N is still pretty good at giving most of her family the cold shoulder. She'll speak to them if she absolutely has to, but it's only short answers.
The young girl is currently sitting on the swings, staring at the ground as she lightly pushes her feet, not having much enthusiasm to actually swing.
She hears a throat clear and looks up to see Anthony standing near her.
"Hi." He greets. She doesn't respond, just looking back down at the ground. "Mind if I join you?" He asks. Y/N doesn't answer.
Anthony goes to the other swing and sits down. He lightly pushes the swing back and forth, much like Y/N is doing.
"Listen, love." Anthony starts, fiddling with his hands nervously. "I am deeply... deeply sorry for us making you think you were our sibling. We should not have lied to you about how you fit into the family. It was wrong."
"Why did you do it then?" Y/N quietly asks.
"We... we had an image to uphold. And none of us really wanted to break it. We would be... our family would've been looked down on. Having a child without being married is... is wrong."
"And that's what you did?" Y/N asks.
"Yes." Anthony nods.
"So I'm a mistake?" She asks, finally looking over at him. Her eyes are glossy which breaks Anthony's heart.
"No. No, darling, not at all." Anthony states. He gets off his swing and kneels in front of her. "You are not at all a mistake. You are... you are the greatest thing to ever happen to me. And I should not have agreed to keeping the fact that you're my daughter a secret. I shouldn't have let it go this far."
"And I am still deeply sorry for that and I will forever be sorry for it. I intended to tell you one day. I did not want you to fight out the way you did. You should've been able to find out in a calmer setting."
"So are we gonna keep pretending I'm not yours?" Y/N asks.
"No. No. I've had a lot of time to think these past two weeks... and I am more than ready to reveal the truth. Keeping you hidden is not the correct thing to do and it never was. From now on, I promise to not lie to you about anything."
"You are my daughter and you always will be."
"It's going to take some time to get used to that." Y/N informs.
"I know. However long it takes, I will be there and you can get comfortable with everything at your own pace." Anthony says. "But you need to know I love you. More than anything."
"I love you, too... papa." Y/N says, making a face at the name. "It's still slightly weird." She says making Anthony lightly chuckle. "But not that weird. You are the only papa I've known anyway."
Anthony softly smiles. He leans forward and kisses her on the forehead.
He knows it would take a while for Y/N to fully accept the truth and get used to it, but he was willing to wait and provide her with unconditional love no matter what.
Taglist: @glxwingrxse
#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x daughter reader#anthony bridgerton x daughter!reader#bridgerton#violet bridgerton#daphne bridgerton#eloise bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#colin bridgerton
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Main Masterlist
Header by the delightful @whenemmafallsinlovesntv! Icon by the dear @goth-butt
I write primarily for Tony Stark and Steve Rogers (with some sides of Stephen Strange, Remus Lupin, and others), and I'm open to suggestions (but can't promise I'll be able to fill your request, as I'm a mom of 3 who are all as extra as I am. I will do my best!)
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WIP List
As of 07/14/2023
Hello Readers! Just wanted to pop on and say a quick thank you to all of you that have been so patient with my snail paced writing. I’m starting to get back in the swing of things and it’s my intention to post more frequently.
I just wanted to share a quick glimpse at my WIP list and hopefully pique curiosity. Most of these are working titles and subject to change.
Most recently, I posted the 3rd installment of the ongoing fic The Viscount Who Loved Me Too Much. All three parts can be found on my pinned post at the top of my page. I already have plans for Part 4.
Forgive Me - Benedict x Reader Whump / Modern AU
A Birthday to Remember - Anthony x OFC / Regency Multi-chapter / Angsty Romance
Brother’s Keeper - Series of one shots in which a Bridgerton sister is charged with looking after a brother / Most likely Regency Whump
I’ll Take Care of It - Anthony x Reader / Spicy 🌶 / Era TBD
I’d Rather Fall in Love - Anthony x Reader Song Insp / Era TBD
Ladies and Gentlemen, *Her* - Benedict x Reader / Romance with possible 🌶 / Modern AU
Eyes of the Beholder - Benedict and Eloise / Regency Whump
Wear You Down - Anthony x Reader / 🌶🌶🌶 / Modern AU
Take it Back - Anthony x Reader / Body Appreciation 🌶🌶
On His Knees - Series of Benedict snap shots / Angst, Spice, Whump
Touch, Sounds and Color - Benedict x Reader / 🌶/ Modern AU
Like We’ll Never Have Sex - Benedict x Reader / 🌶 / Regency / This was song inspired and I also plan to mesh a prompt I got from the lovely @bridgertontess
Remember That Night? - Benedict x Reader / Angst and 🌶 / Modern
The Man I Thought I Knew - Anthony x Reader Mini Series / Regency / Angst and 🌶
How About Another? - 🌶🌶 / Brother TBD / Grateful Reader
Don’t Think - Benedict x Reader / 🌶 / ERA TBD
Proud of You - Brother TBD / Reader is rewarded when one of our Bridgerton Brothers is overcome with how impressive they think she is
Untitled - Anthony x Reader Fluff
Finishing Act - Benedict x Reader / 🌶 Breath Play / ERA TBD
Music Box - Benedict x Reader / Family Fluff / Regency
Unmuzzled - Anthony x Reader / He wants her vocal 🌶
Far From Decent - Benedict x Reader / 🌶 jealous clothes ripping / Modern
Make Me - Anthony x Reader / 🌶
Plus One - Benedict x OC x Reader / 🌶 First Time Threesome / Modern
Untitled - Possessive Benedict
Untiled - Anthony x Reader Enemies to Lovers
Untitled - Benedict x Reader tattoo fic
The Lonely Ones - Benedict x Family / Emotional
Willing to learn - Anthony x Reader / 🌶
I’m sure some of these will fall away, but for now they are what I’ve got dancing around in my brain!
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a creation for every month of 2022
post your favorite or most popular post from each month this year (it’s okay to skip months).
i was tagged by the absolutely great @yenvengerberg, thank you so much for thinking of me for this 🥺 i still cannot believe we’re friends for you truly are a fantastic person AND the most talented person on this website. sending you all my love and my best wishes for the new year to come 💖 (oops this turned into a love letter but i don’t care). i had fun doing this last year so let’s goooo, and have an existential crisis over the amount of time spent on photoshop. just like last year, i’m blending in with edits i made for sourceblogs
january (aka the month i didn’t think i’d partake in Yen week but finally did because i was stuck at home with c*vid)
favorite: yenskier in s2 + pink
most popular: every friend group should have...witcher edition
february
favorite: words are like arrows graphic
most popular: the kingsguard pre-ASOIAF era
march
favorite: yenralt: she’s smart, beautiful and can kick my ass
most popular: yennefer + Don’t Trust Me lyrics
april
favorite: kanthony + senses
most popular: wet Anthony
may
favorite: pride and prejudice + lilac/sand (honorary mention: Violet Bridgerton’s s2 outfits)
most popular: pride and prejudice + dark blue/gold
june
favorite: team dragonstone
most popular: witcher ladies: violence IS the answer (also my favorite tbh)
july
favorite: Triss Merigold + blue/pink (honorary mentions: Fringilla x Fran enemies to “partners” and witcher ladies fighting in dresses)
most popular: Triss Merigold + marigold
august
favorite: Maiden-Made-Of-Light graphic (honorary mention: Violet Bridgerton’s teal and sand outfit)
most popular: Yennefer: rough yet gentle
september
favorite: Arianne Martell desert gifset
most popular: fuck the rich...please. kanthony edition
october
favorites (ex-aequo): everyone has a little bit of Geralt in them...(coping with Henry leaving the role) and Yenralt + Ships in the Night
most popular: Kate Sharma’s sunset gown
november
favorite: Rosaline + Pride&Prejudice parallels
most popular: southern locations of Westeros
december
favorites (ex-aequo): House Martell family tree (that one...) and Geralt: darling deadly boy
most popular: eloquent Jaskier
tagging (no pressure ofc!): @zoya-nazyalenskys @harrenhals @lady-arryn @ughmerlin @castlesrichards @arthurpendragonns @keirahknightley @mxrisacoulter @redbelles @something-more
#tagged#tag games#this really was a trip down memory lane....#proud of quite a few creations (esp my favs from december although the martell family tree was ONLY posted in dec but made before)#got to try new stuff and somehow got a (very) small reputation in costume gifsets???#but i'm just inspired by the amazingly talented people on my dash!#some of these have little notes so truly notes don't reflect anymore (unfortunately). do it for yourself and your friends. not for the notes
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