+18 (sexual content, please do not read it if you are a minor)
summary:Lady [y/n] is promised to marry a French man, but she feels unprepared for her nuptial night.
notes:my first smut/sexual writing, so please be patient and leave a comment if you liked it! I’d really like to know!
words:+7.900
She shouldn’t be about to do what her heart desired — either way, there she was, grasping at her yellow and pink dress, stressing out her nerves with anxiety dripping from her face. Allowing one last glance around before coming into the Bridgerton mansion, [y/n] sighed, hoping one last deep breath would be enough to give her the right amount of courage she’d need.
The house was full, but not as full as it could be. In a corner next to the garden, sitting around a marble table filled with sweets and tea, Lady Bridgerton, Eloise, Anthony, Benedict, and Penelope could be found. That was more people than [y/n] meant to meet, but she supposed it could happen, being that the person she longed to talk to was a Bridgerton.
“Good afternoon, Lady Bridgerton, Lord Bridgerton,” [y/n] started to salute. “Benedict, Eloise and Penelope, pleased to see you all.”
They all smiled and replied, and Penelope dragged in closer against Eloise, offering the butler that accompanied [y/n] an empty space to place a chair. The visit couldn’t reckon whether she should be thankful for being placed closer to the person she wanted to talk to or not.
“What are you doing here today, dear?” asked Lady Bridgerton, with a motherly smile. Any other person in town asking that question would be considered rude, but since it was Violet, [y/n] had no thought of her being unmannered. “I thought you should be preparing for your wedding day.”
She should, by the way. Violet Bridgerton had a good point, but then what she was there to do could also be deemed as preparing for the ceremonial occasion.
“Or at least be preparing for tonight’s ball, huh?” added Penelope, noticing [y/n] had widened her eyes and seemed to be in a shocking state.
[y/n] smiled at the girl, what she supposed could be viewed as a “thank you”.
“I do have much preparing to do, for bothoccasions — that is correct.” She had no idea where she was going to end her sentence, “But I felt like stopping by to visit the family I love most in the world.”
Lady Bridgerton couldn’t help but tilt her head in a happy expression. She’d seen [y/n] grow up to be a beautiful lady, and in one day she’d be wed. Violet could only hope one day all of her children would’ve passed through the same process too.
“Lady [y/n] probably wants the girls’ opinions towards flowers and dresses,” suggested Benedict, speaking up. He couldn’t be farther from the truth, though. [y/n] wasn’t there for the girls, especially because Eloise was the only Bridgerton girl around, and she did not like wedding and party planning.
Lady [y/n] was there for Anthony Bridgerton.
For remarkably private and personal reasons.
“Oh, I suppose I could help as well,” said Lady Bridgeton, leaning in over the table. “I don’t suppose I’m overlyout of fashion.”
“Oh, Lady Bridgerton!” exclaimed both girls that were not Bridgerton. Eloise just looked bored.
The men looked rather lost in the conversation, and they seemed to be looking for an excuse to get out of there the moment the ladies started discussing garments for that evening’s ball. Unfortunately for the men, a servant appeared with a plate filled with cookies, and so they had to wait a little longer to get out.
“So, Lady [y/n],” started saying Eloise, but [y/n] interrupted her.
“Please, call me [y/n] only,” she said, “I suppose we are very much family by now.”
Eloise smiled and rephrased: “[y/n], will your husband-to-be make an appearance tonight at the ball?”
Penelope stared at [y/n], curious, too.
No, he wouldn’t be coming along, because he was going to be merely able to arrive in London onthe wedding day, more often than not just in time. None of the Bridgerton had met Lord Jean Blanc yet — and neither had Lady [y/n]. It was an arranged matrimony, a desire of a father that most longed for his only daughter not only to marry well but to marry a French gentleman, as it was his dying mother’s last wish. The old lady had a thing for the French, and she had planned her granddaughter’s whole life based on her own conception. Even though [y/n] had no recollection of the old woman whatsoever, her father did everything in his power for his mother’s wish to come true.
Lady [y/n] had never objected to espousing Lord Blanc, and she was very happy to accept a destiny chosen to her instead of one she’d have to make on her own. That was until last night, when her dear mother told her what to expect for the wedding night. Oh, [y/n] was not expecting that!
She knew a simple version of what her mother had told her — she would lay in bed with her lovely husband and, magically, she supposed, she would give birth to a baby nine months later. It was that, in a way, but, Lord, there was so much more!
And her mother, deciding upon doing differently from what was done to her very self, let [y/n] on everything. All the details and positions, and she even added the father’s own personal preferences, supposing it could be the same with Lord Blanc.
Needless to say, [y/n] did not sleep. She laid awake, turning around in bed, trying not to visualize the sexual positions, trying not to feel the pain beforehand. However, her eyes could not help but wonder how Lord Blanc would look like and if he would be hairless like her father (her mother’s words).
[y/n] was in despair. She couldn’t do those things with Jean, poor man. A maid added, before breakfast upon her questions, that the French were much more sexual beings than the British, and [y/n] could not allow herself embarrassment or pain. But how could she manage that? She was going to marry a sex machine, and she was a bloody virgin!
She knew, however, a man of gossip, and that the chitchat surrounding him suggested he was as sexual as a French man. [y/n] had only one choice: talk to Anthony Bridgerton.
They were friends. They were very, veryclose. Yes, when [y/n] got older, being a Lady didn’t allow her much fun as being a Lord allowed Anthony, but they still talked and confabbed together almost every ball. She could ask him those things, right?
I mean, it wasn’t very “ladylike” but [y/n] supposed the whole wedding night talk was not ladylike at all, but she had already heard it. She was already inthe conversation. The least she could do was ask lord Bridgerton a favour.
She tried to picture herself in front of a man she barely knew, naked with all her insecurities and stretch marks and having to do all the things her mother instructed her to do: open legs, spread arms and so on; but she just couldn’t. Saying it wasn’t the same as showing — but not in any universe would she ask her mother to show her how to… make babies.
So her only option was to find a man she trusted as deeply as herself, but much more experienced in lovemaking than herself.
“…had no idea what he could possibly be wanting of me…”
“Oh, Eloise, dear! He was courting you!”
“He was not!”
Eloise Bridgerton’s shout was the phrase capable of bringing Lady [y/n] back to reality. Her courage was totally fading as time passed. She looked around, noticing Anthony and Benedict were already up and about to be gone. [y/n] didn’t even notice when they excused themselves.
“Hm, I’m sorry, girls, Lady Bridgerton, but I do need to ask Lord Bridgerton something if you…”
Mama Bridgerton interrupted with a smile and a wave of a hand.
“No worries, go. I noticed you’re pensive,” she said. Lady [y/n] smiled, and with a bow, she walked away, jogging a little to catch up to Anthony.
The three left ladies exchanged glances, but Eloise was soon back talking about her last ball and the troublesome gentleman she had met. Pen and Violet kept a knowing look on their faces, as if they had tasted something in the air before anybody else.
“Benedict, huh, sorry, LordBenedict,” [y/n] said, rambling and gasping for air, “where can I find your older brother?”
Benedict grimaced but thought it was better to simply answer than to make conversation by correcting her and allowing her to call him just by his given name.
“He’s in his office, [y/n],” he said. “Want me to escort you?”
“No need,” she replied. “I am quite certain I know this house as well as my own.”
They both tilted their heads forward, a silent goodbye, and [y/n] kept walking towards Lord Bridgerton’s office. She knew he wasn’t living at that residence anymore, allowing his younger siblings and mom privacy — or better said, allowing himself some peace and quiet.
She knocked twice on the door, afraid her emotions were talking the best of her.
“Come on in,” said a deep voice from inside.
Lady [y/n] gasped for air, a deep breath and walked in.
“[y/n], hello,” said Anthony, looking up from his papers. “What can I help you with? Is my brother gone, and you require a chaperone to walk you back home?” he asked, getting up promptly.
They were friends, but as much as a female and a male could be friends in British society, therefore it was very rare when [y/n] needed to talk to Anthony in such private places and situations.
“Oh, no, milord, nothing of that source,” she replied, grasping her dress. “I simply, huh…”
Anthony waited as she tried finding the right words.
“I wanted to ask you for a favour.”
He only kept staring.
“Yes, a favour,” she repeated, mostly to herself, as if approving of the word. “I suppose by now you are the only one that can help me. My marriage is just around the corner.”
“Tomorrow, I know,” he said, because he did, indeed, know. It was marked on his notebook, it was all his mother could talk about. And even Colin, one of his younger brothers, had written about it in his last letter. Anthony had no idea why his family wanted so desperately to remind him that his best friend was getting married tomorrow — he had already bought two excellent presents in the name of the family.
“Do you need me for something concerning your matrimony?” he asked, noticing [y/n] had grown silent.
“Precisely,” she nodded.
“Is it borrowing a carriage? We do have fine ones,” he said. “Or do you need me to walk you down the aisle? Isn’t your father supposed to?” Anthony really didn’t want her to ask for him to walk her down the aisle. He wouldn’t be able to. He’d very much rather borrow the carriage.
It wasn’t like it would hurt him to do so if asked. He liked [y/n] extremely, which could be exactly the issue. They had grown up together, he thought that was the problem. He wouldn’t want his sisters to be married to someone he didn’t know, so why would he like it when it was happening to his very best friend?
Except when he thought about marrying his sisters, he wanted to vomit and die. Now, when he thought about marrying [y/n], his heart would hurt so badly as if it wanted to jump out of his chest and go right in her hand — because it was where it belonged.
But he always knew [y/n] wouldn’t marry him, so why, whydid it hurt?
“No, I don’t need you for any of those things, I’m afraid,” she said, bringing him back to the factual thing happening. She stared at his beautiful and oblivious eyes. She had to speak up. “Last night, my mama told me some things I should expect in my marriage…”
Anthony swallowed hard.
“… especially on my wedding night. I didn’t know — I don’t know — what to do about it, Anthony,” [y/n] stepped closer to him.
The viscount was finding it very difficult to breathe.
“I suppose a lady such as myself and a lord such as you should not be discussing what I’m about to say, but I… I have no one else, and I will not allow myself to walk in my nuptial night knowing nothing of what is about to happen.”
“Lady [y/n], are you… what are you asking of me?” Anthony managed to ask, gulping. He wasn’t always formal, and he didn’t call her lady when they were alone, but he just needed to put up some walls between them. Even if they were invisible because [y/n] just kept coming closer.
“I don’t want Lorde Jean Blanc to be the first man I lay in bed with. I want it to be you,” she said, all in one breath.
She grasped her dress again, and lowered her eyes to his hands, so she could not visualize what she predicted would be a disappointment on Anthony’s face. How could she? No lady would ask a gentleman to bed her. Oh, god, not ask. She had begged.
“I want it to be someone I know, and like, and trust. Because I can’t bear the idea of allowing my body for use of a French man I barely know and having to just sit still because I have no idea of what he is going to do!”
Anthony Bridgerton desperately wished he had been sitting before listening to Lady [y/n]’s declaration. Not of love. Of necessity. She needed him.
He supposed she didn’t understand what she was asking, but he did it for her. No lady walks in and promptly asks a man to bed her, not unless she sees it can be her last opportunity to do so. And even then, she must desperately desire the required man, otherwise, she wouldn’t do it.
Anthony knew quite a bit about women and their first times. He generally wasn’t up for it — the tenderness and the passion, the waiting — it all scared him very much, but there was nothing [y/n] could ask him with her hearty eyes that he wouldn’t say yes.
But how could he say yes now? How could he make love with the woman of his heart and then walk away to see her marrying someone else?
Anthony reached for her chin and leaned it up, so he could stare her dead in the eyes. She tried ducking once again, but he didn’t allow it.
“[y/n], have you ever even kissed a man before?”
She denied it with her head. “I haven’t met Lord Blanc in person yet, and I’ve always thought that being him the one I’m going to marry, it would be unfair to any other man.”
Anthony nodded.
He then held her chin tightly, firmly, and with his other hand, he grasped her waist, bringing her closer. It was simply natural to do what he did next.
His lips encountered hers, gently, almost like a singular touch of a gloved hand, just allowing Lady [y/n] the space she needed in case she wanted to press her hands to his chest and push him away. She ended up putting her hands there, but not to move him away — she just wanted to be firm, press herself against Anthony and notforce him away. He was much taller than she was, which gave her a certain instability in such feminine heels.
[y/n] never expected a first kiss to be so welcoming.
Anthony took advantage of the girl’s leaning towards him and took her by the neck, bringing her closer and closer and making her belong to him with a soft opening of his mouth and an exploration with his tongue. He entered her calmly, allowing her to savour the new sensation, and then he devoured her, tongue and lips, and tightened his grip on her arms, clutching her waist. He was marking her as his, for he knew, or at least assumed, that she would walk away altogether after that.
Neither of them had noticed time passing, minutes felt like seconds, and without [y/n] observation, she was leaned against the bookshelf Viscountess Bridgerton kept full of new books.
That was enough to light her up.
“Huh, Anthony…” she whispered, not noticing her voice would be different after minutes of kissing. “Should we be doing it here? In your mother’s home?”
Her words confused Anthony, and he was not up to letting go of kissing her neck. “Doing what?”
“Deflowering me,” she said, nonchalantly.
Anthony immediately stopped. His hands were still on her skirt, keeping one of her knees up and open for his touches, while his head, bent into the crook of her neck, found a way to face her. The word choice scared the hell out of him.
“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Should I not have asked?” she did not keep her questions to herself. “Were you in complete control while kissing me?”
He gulped.
“That was more than just kissing.” And he had, in fact, lost control back there, but he was not about to admit it.
“What would you have called it?”
“We canoodled with each other,” he said. “And I recall some social parcels of London calling it ‘make out’ but it seems unfit.”
“Why?” she asked, lowering her knee and adjusting her skirt.
“Because I didn’t makeyou. I destroyedyou.”
She was positive he was right. What she didn’t know was that she had destroyed him too.
He ran his fingers through his hair, waiting for her to disappear, regretful and resentful towards him, but she did none of the sorts.
“Do you have a mirror here?”
“What?”
“A mirror. A looking glass. Do you have it?”
Anthony held in the urge to smile. “No, I suppose not here.”
She pressed her lips together as if thinking what she could do. To save herself? Anthony thought, but did not ask. He so desperately wanted to ravish her right there and then. Maybe even deflowerher, as she put it, but then he would need a safer space than his office in his mother’s residence.
“Well, then you’ll have to be my looking glass. Step closer,” she demanded while combing her hair with her fingers, trying to pin the left out parts.
“How’s that going to work?”
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
Anthony gulped, getting suddenly nervous.
“With my appearance,” she added, noticing his jitteriness.
“You have, hm… you have something on the corner of your mouth,” he said, nervously.
“Where?” she tried to clean it, presuming it was her makeup blurred, but Anthony’s expression appeared to be that she wasn’t cleaning it at all.
He decided to clean it himself upon her request.
Terrible idea.
“Hm, [y/n],” he uttered.
“Yes, Anthony.”
“Why me? Why ask me to…?” he wasn’t able to say the words. “Are you sure of this?” he asked lastly, thinking that maybe he wouldn’t want to hear her saying she didn’t prefer him much more than he was her only option. Or it could’ve been Benedict, but Anthony was very glad she picked him.
She seemed to think before answering. “I picked you because it was only natural. And I am certain of this because I cannot face my husband unaware of what he’ll do to me.”
Anthony shook his head, still helping her adjust her visual aspect.
“Besides, I heard the French dislike oblivious and non-sexual girls.”
That was enough for Anthony.
“Then why, honestly, why are you marrying him?” Marry me! he wanted to add.
She shrugged. “Because he’s there. He wants me. Father sends him paintings of me all the time, and he still wants to marry me after seeing how I am. I know paintings are not the same, but well, people here in London are seeing me for who I am, and they are still not picking me.”
“Perhaps because they know you are engaged?” suggested Anthony, because that was his very reason.
“That’s not it. If they wanted to be with me, they would’ve come forward. An arranged betrothal with a French lord wouldn’t have stopped someone who truly desired me.”
“And would you have said yes?”
She did not answer that. She did not know.
If any other lord had come forward and asked her to be his wife, would she have gone against her father’s wishes and done it? Would she have done it if Colin for example asked for her hand in marriage?
No.
Regardless, if Anthony had proposed…
Anthony disliked the silence that echoed after his question, so he decided upon a lighter tone when he spoke again. “I will teach you if that’s what you truly desire. I’ll bed you, and I’ll be patient, and I’ll show you what a man like, but also teach you what you can like.”
She looked at his eyes, expectantly.
“But only if you ask me, only if you assure me that it is what you want,” he said. “Please only ask for it, however, if you truly want it and won’t regret it.”
“I won’t regret it.”
Anthony and [y/n] exchanged a look. They knew they were doomed, even though they didn’t want to admit it.
“Tonight then. When everyone’s at the ball, say you don’t wish to go because your wedding is coming, and you want to rest. I’ll send a carriage for you as soon as your mother and father have left your house.”
[y/n] gulped, suddenly anxious for more of those kisses, for more canoodling, as he had put it.
“I’ll be waiting,” she said. “Thank you, Anthony.”
He closed his eyes tightly, mashing them as if he wished he hadn’t heard her.
“Don’t thank me.”
Anthony Bridgerton was waiting for the most surprising guest of his life.
It wasn’t every day he would receive a lady friend in his small but only his house, but this one was a very special lady.
Actually, that night, she was no lady at all.
Lady [y/n] had picked the most sensual of her dresses, the one she only had worn once before. That was because when she did, Anthony almost passed out seeing her in a crowded ball and wearing that red tight thing that put all her natural beauties in place and upfront for any man to stare at. In fact, he had made sure she would only dance with him and her father that night because he decided no one else was allowed that privilege.
She decided it was only fit to wear it once again, for this time it was her ultimate goal to provoke Anthony.
Hah! She had always pondered over it, but never allowed herself to think too much because Anthony was not the man in her future. He still wasn’t, but it felt natural to close her eyes towards her future just for one night and enjoy having Anthony, being Anthony’s.
He was waiting for her in his empty house (he had dismissed the servants), holding a glass of wine in each hand. When she arrived, he offered her one, knowing it would help her nervousness. It was supposed to be helping him too, but as a man used to alcohol, he would need something much stronger.
“How are we going to do this?” she asked, feeling unquiet. The dress was affecting Anthony, she noticed it, but that simply wasn’t enough for her enquiring mind, who wanted to know every step of the way.
“Slowly,” he answered, drinking more wine. “Think of me as your husband after the wedding. How would you let the scene play?”
Oh, he liked to see her imagining him as her husband. After all, it was part of his little plan. He wanted to bed her, to love her for the whole night as long as she could, so she would be addicted and too scared to risk loving another man that can never be the same as Anthony.
“Well, not slowly,” she said. “I’m not a very patient girl.”
Anthony let his brows go up.
“So show me. I’m here to learn, too.”
Drinking in a quick sip of all the left wine in her glass, [y/n] got up and walked towards Anthony, only to sit down over his lap. That was the boost of courage Anthony needed, the confirmation that she was there as much as he was.
“Kiss me.”
And he obeyed.
They didn’t start out calmly, as the first kiss had been. [y/n] didn’t allow Anthony to be slow or tender. She didn’t want affection. She would soon be a wife, she hoped the affection would come with time, from her true husband. At that moment, she was a lover, a concubine, slipping away in the dead of night to find her great, seductive love.
And how big and seductive it was!
She could feel all his power through her dress and his clothing because the position made it all so easy. It was almost like the perfect fit. Anthony bit his lip, knowing he could very well hurt her if he did the wrong thing.
As they kissed, Anthony allowed her hands to explore him, get to know him, and she was grateful for the opportunity. He seized the instant and concentrated on undoing the beautiful hairstyle she wore, pulling out the bobby pins carefully so as not to hurt her and positioning them beside their abandoned wine glasses. Anthony enjoyed being able to see her hair completely down and was delighted to see that it was still the same beauty as when they were children.
Anthony wished he had the gift of painting that his brother Benedict had, so he could paint her in the dim candlelight of his living room, with her hair down and her dress falling apart on his lap. The skirt lifted, allowing for more friction, and her full breasts were desperate to pop out. God, he would burn that dress that night, for he would never consent her to wear it in the presence of the damn French lord.
Why didn’t she claim to be his, and they put an end to this farce? It was evident from the way she writhed in pleasure as he played with the skin of her leg that she was his. She was Anthony’s and would never be anyone else’s. Both came from good-class families, and Anthony was a viscount! A much better position than the Baron, and he was in London, where [y/n] would remain with her family. So why didn’t she confess everything?
He would make her concede.
Grabbing her hips, he rose with her clutched to his chest, and carried her upstairs to his room. He would need a bed to convince her.
He sprawled her out on his bed, happy with the image he saw. If he allowed himself to daydream, she could be there because she was his wife, ring and all.
“Anthony, tell me what to do.”
The words were intoxicating.
“Let your breasts come out. Let me see them. Play with them,” please, he wanted to add, but chose not to say. She was the one who should be begging tonight, not him.
She did as she was asked, carefully lowering the neckline of her dress and showing her breasts. Anthony let his head fall to the side in pleasure as a wave of heat washed over him. He well remembered the day he’d realized that Lady [y/n] had grown breasts. He was pretty sure the day got written down somewhere in his teenage writings. And now, seeing them in their full beauty, with no clothes to separate them, drove him insane.
Leaping over her on the bed, he lay his hand over hers on her right breast and stared at her left for just half a second before biting into her pert nipple.
She felt a surge of pleasure and squirmed, kicking off her shoes with only the rubbing of the edge of the wooden bed. Anthony was golden when he heard the clatter of shoes falling to the floor.
“Are you enjoying it?”
She didn’t answer, just squirmed once more.
“I need you to say it, love.”
“I am enjoying it,” she never admitted how much ‘love’ had affected her, even more than the tender touch of his on her breasts.
“Good, I’m enjoying it too,” he said, moving from one breast to the other. “I love how full they are.”
She moaned something he was unable to understand.
“Use your words, love.”
She bit her bottom lip, meeting his gaze. “I like that my bosoms please you.”
He smirked and pulled her by the arms so that she sat on the bed. She sat up, confused, and he got to his feet. “I want you not to be tense. I’m going to take my clothes off.”
“Want me to take mine off too?” she asked, tilting her head.
“No, I’ll do it,” he said, holding his pants by the waist belt. He hadn’t worn a suit since [y/n]’s arrival, but he still had his vest over his shirt. “I want you to watch me.”
And watched him, she did, completely fascinated by the view.
She was stunned to discover muscle under all the tailored clothing Anthony was always wearing, but that wasn’t all that left her with her mouth hanging open. When his underclothing fell to the floor, Anthony allowed her to see his long, hard cock. [y/n] looked down, imagining and remembering what she had under her skirt.
Her mother had informed her that his and hers would be different, but she never imagined that his would be so…big. That would never fit.
“What is it, love?” he asked, kneeling in front of her, positioning his chin in her lap. His eyes showed concern, and he was right to feel that way, thought [y/n], after all, he should have known he had an anomaly between his legs.
“It’s big,” she whispered.
He smiled with pleasure, holding back a laugh. “Yes, it is.”
“It’sverybig.”
He had to lower his face into her skirt, so she wouldn’t see him laughing. Of course, her reaction was to be expected, being a virgin, but, God, what wouldn’t he give her, so she could repeat that in front of his brothers. Or rather, all of London.
“You can take it,” he said when his laughter vanished. He rose again and asked for her hand. “Get up, let me undress you.”
She did as asked, and he went to see her buttons on the back, one by one. She felt his fingers play with her soft skin, and she felt exposed but in a good way. [y/n] had presumed she would feel ashamed, but she felt alive and hot.
“Are all men like that? Is Lord Blanc going to be as big as yours?”
Anthony snorted, and he stopped being careful and just tore the dress away.
“No, Blanc’s cock is not half as big as mine,” he supposed she couldn’t understand, not yet, how that was a bad thing for Lord Blanc.
Before she could comprehend, her dress was on the floor, all torn apart, thanks to the Viscount little jealous fit. Later she’d worry how could she leave the house with a rubbish gown, but at that very second, she only felt hot and alive and desirable. The dress had worked its magic on Anthony.
She was desperate to cover some part of her, knowing her two hands were not enough to cover it all. At least, the candlelight is not as bright as it could be, she thought, holding her belly.
Anthony noticed the sudden blush, and hurried to grasp her hands and let her body completely open to his view. “Don’t be ashamed,” he whispered, closer to her ear, “you are so very beautiful. The most gorgeous miss I have ever seen.”
[y/n] couldn’t help but blush again.
How long had she waited to hear a man, a proper man of London society, to say that to her? To compliment her naked body even though it was evident she was just another wallflower?
And to have Anthony to do so, oh my! The most handsome of the British men — she was more than sure now, that she could stare at him defenseless, with all his glory.
He held her left hand and squeezed it a little.
“Are you still sure of this?” he hated himself for asking, for if she answered no, he would die right there and then. His member was in so much bloody pain, throbbing non-stop with desire.
She nodded. “Yes, Anthony. I do, very much, want it.”
Now more than ever, she thought.
She could sense he was smiling in the dim light. “Come,” he whispered, taking her to bed once again, this time slowly, as if scared she could break when naked.
She laid, spread, and he, positioned on top, started kissing her, lips and neck, and his hands wandered all over her body. Her breast felt hurtful with his touch, but it was a different kind of pain because it emanated to the centre of her very core, and when Anthony fingers found her entrance, she let out a soft moan.
The Viscount couldn’t help but smirk, and while one hand stayed there, playing around her core, the other went to her face, as he played with her hair.
“Describe how you’re feeling,” he demanded.
“I can’t,” she said between groans, “I don’t know how.”
“Just tell me, love,” he kept demanding, “when I do this,” he said as he let his tip of the finger play with the mouth of her arousal, “what do you feel?”
She bit her lip. “Anticipation.”
“How so?”
“It feels good, but it also feels like there is more.”
Anthony smirk widened. “Do you want more?”
“Yes, milord,” she nodded, feeling a little pleasure when he started using two fingers to wander around. “Sorry, I meant Anthony.”
He stopped his fingers. “Keep the milord. I like it,” he said, coolly.
It was her chance to smile. She reached for his hand at her entrance and pulled it forward, with more of a firm grip.
“I like it when you call me love, as well,” she let out, feeling a sudden wave of blush.
With the help of her hand, Anthony allowed himself to get in more deeply, to really feel her, and when he played with her clit, he felt like he could die in peace.
“You are so wet for me, my love,” he whispered, desperately to taste her. He knew it could be weird for a first time, though, so he only kept playing with her clitoris, wondering about her taste as she moaned loudly.
Thank God they were alone.
“I feel… I feel like…”
“Like bursting?” Anthony suggested, looking forward to facing her as he knew she was about to come.
He teased and slither, and she just kept trembling and moaning, until a sudden wave of absolute pleasure took over her, and [y/n] like she was at Paradise, the rise of relaxation stronger than she ever felt.
“Anthony, that was…”
“I know,” he said, before pulling his fingers and finally allowing himself some taste of her, even though it was not how he planned. He wanted to really taste her, core and everything, but the wetness on his finger would have to be enough.
He let her breath hard for a whole minute, while he just kept teasing and kissing her belly, shoulders and sucking her finger — he found it a very nice thing to do.
“Is it now you are going to… penetrate me?”
My God, gasped Anthony Bridgerton, shocked Lady [y/n] had said those words. “I guess you did learn to use your words,” he whispered, playfully.
She blushed. “Well, the finger thing felt very, very good, but I’m quite sure it isn’t the thing that gets me pregnant.”
Anthony rose from her belly to kiss her lips. “You do know quite a lot, huh.”
“I did my reser…” but [y/n] never finished her sentence, for she remembered the consequences of making love. “Am I going to be pregnant with your baby?”
Oh, Anthony liked that idea. He kissed her again, again.
“Probably not,” he replied after a while.
“That is not very sure.”
“Nothing ever is,” he said, smirking.
She nudged his arm. “Anthony!”
“You came to me, love, what do you want me to do?”
“Not get me pregnant,” she replied.
“I can’t make promises,” he said, letting his smirk fade away, “but I’ll try my best.”
She breathed out, relieved.
“But, anyway, you are getting married tomorrow so… no one would figure it out,” he added, only to mess with her.
“I don’t know how Lord Blanc is. What if he’s your opposite? How am I expected to explain?”
“By marrying me,” he answered before he could hold his tongue. Lady [y/n] froze at his touch. “Don’t worry,” he quickly added, “you are not going to be pregnant on your first try.”
Noticing her brows were down again, Anthony took the opportunity to kiss her body once again, and she came alive at full speed. He touched her core.
“You are ready,” he said, and with the help of his elbows, he got a little up on her, only to adjust himself over her entrance.
She bit her lip, expecting, waiting. She needed that. Not only that, but she was desperate to know how it would feel to have all of him inside her. And he wasn’t strong enough to wait any longer.
Holding his tip with one hand and massaging her entrance with another, he said: “This might hurt a bit. But I’ll give you time to get used to it.”
Anthony allowed his member to slither in her core, and waited so she could feel more comfortable.
She held her breath when she felt the tip of him enter, but managed to settle down when she breathed again. Anthony let some more of him into her, and she sighed.
“Does it hurt?”
“I just need… I want a moment,” she said.
“Wait,” then he thrust deeper into her, startling her. She widened her eyes and grabbed him in his forearms, feeling a slight discomfort, like the pressure of something breaking. “You better get used to it now that I’m all inside you.”
And inside her, he was, because she could feel him through her pussy, something hard, nudging her. He held on tight, waiting for her to adjust. Meanwhile, Anthony avoided looking her in the eye, as it would be too much for him, and he imagined if he could get her pregnant.
He had never dreamed of having as many children as his parents had, but there, with his cock at the centre of her, he decided it wouldn’t be all bad to have eight children. Perhaps ten.
“Can you move?” she asked, in a whisper.
It caught Anthony by surprise. “I’m sorry?”
“Can you move… it? I feel like it would be better if you moved,” she said, blushing for having to explain her wishes.
“Of course I can move, love,” he smiled, and started the movement.
He delicately and caressing moved his member inside her, but she quickly grasped his back, bringing him closer and whispered “faster”. That was his favourite word in the whole world, for all he wanted to do was to thrust and throb with velocity as his member required.
Feasting, his hip movements allowed Lady [y/n] some absolute pleasure, way better than the fingers and the waiting. She moved with him, trying to bring him closer every time he pulled away.
[y/n] was euphoric and Anthony was flaming, both so caught up in the moment they didn’t even notice when they got very close to coming. He kept charging and she grasped him tighter.
“I’m feeling it again,” she whispered between a moan.
Taking advantage of her state, Anthony kept thrusting, but he added his finger at the tip of her clit, just to make things easier for her. “Then come, my love” he demanded, for he was not able to hold himself much longer.
“Oh, my…” she whispered before moaning, feeling the last string that fixed her on reality getting cut.
Anthony exploded not much after, remembering to pull out. He did not want to, he so very deeply wanted to plant his seed on her, to mark her as his by a definitive mean, but he couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her. If she wanted to be with him, she should do it because it’s her heart’s desire, not because of her uterus.
He laid right next to her, and she didn’t hesitate before coming closer and nestling on his bare chest. They were both out of breath and wet; Anthony could feel a drop of sweat running down his forehead, and [y/n] could feel the molasses on her legs and belly. But they weren’t disgusted — quite the opposite. Anthony felt that if he held her any longer, he would regain the energy to do it all over again soon.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, applying pressure to the lady’s forearm.
“Different,” she said, surprising him with her choice of word. “I think I must have even changed my appearance. How am I?” she asked, turning to face him.
“Beautiful,” he said. “Magnificent,” he continued. “You are marvelous.”
She felt herself blush and buried her face in the Viscount’s chest.
“You can’t tell me these things,” she sighed. “You’re going to spoil me.”
“So be it,” he replied, kissing her on the top of her head.
“Oh, Anthony,” she breathed, more regretfully this time, permitting herself to look at him. His eyes gleamed in the night, and she imagined hers did the same. “This was a mistake.”
Anthony froze beneath her. He was hearing the words he never wanted to hear, but she kept saying it, and he heard it all, for he wanted the explanation to be more than just denying his feelings.
“I believe… I don’t want to marry any French lord,” she proceeded. “I want… No, I can’t. But I don’t want Jean, that’s for sure, and now… I’m doomed. What a bad idea of mine to sleep with my best friend!”
Anthony felt the smile appearing on his face before he actually felt the pure happiness that came with her sentence. Did she realize she was making all his wishes come true?
“Then don’t marry him,” he whispered, kissing her cheek then her temple.
She stared at him, widening her eyes.
“Marry me, [y/n],” he whispered, closer to her ear. “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave this room.”
She couldn’t help the tears coming down.
“I love you, Anthony,” she whispered back. Those were his favourite words, he gasped, correcting his early thought. “But my father…”
“He can’t do anything if we get to marry before he finds out.”
“Anthony! You are a Viscount! You need to get married properly!”
Anthony sat on the bed, bringing her up with him, and squeezed her.
“[y/n], I love you with my very heart and soul. If you say you love me too and wish to have me forever, there is no one, God or mortal, that is going to stop me from making you mine,” he said, nonchalantly, so confident in himself. “I have always desired you, but never as strongly as now, and if you tell me it’s Jean Blanc you wish to marry, I’ll step away. You’ll never see me again.”
“I don’t…”
“But if you say it’s me you want,” he kept going, ignoring her attempt of interruption, “then I am yours, [y/n]. And you are mine, and I’ll make you a Bridgerton by law, as I’m pretty sure you already are one by heart.”
She smiled, genuinely smiled, feeling she was the most beautiful of the human beings and the most enviable, for sure.
“I want you, Anthony Bridgerton, and I want you to make me Mrs. Anthony Bridgerton, for I’m sure to be the happiest of the ladies next to you,” she said, making him kiss her desperately.
They laid in bed again, caught up in kisses and canoodles.
“Now, what do we do?”
“Leave that to me,” said Anthony, before kissing her again.
Anthony’s plan worked.
Well, of course, it did. He had an infallible tactic, and the whole of London was cheering for him and [y/n] to eventually get married.
The morning after they had sex for the very first time — and second and third, for Anthony Bridgerton was exquisite to know he was going to marry his best friend — he went straight to his mother’s house. He left [y/n] at his.
“Mother, I might have impregnated Lady [y/n] [y/l/n].”
That was a very powerful and enough sentence on its own. Lady Bridgerton almost fainted, but recomposed herself, sparkling with joy, for she had planned to see those two together their entire lives.
She excused herself and went to [y/n]’s family home. It was Violet who arranged everything, in a lighter tone than Anthony ever could, even though he was right next to her when she spoke. [y/n]’s mother started jumping and clapping around, filled with happiness. [y/n]’s father was not even a bit happy, but after a long conversation, he realized there was nothing he could do but to give Anthony’s [y/n]’s hand in marriage.
And so, the French lord got excused to go back to his country before he even arrived in London, and the party planned to happen in the afternoon went on. But this time, it was Anthony the man at the altar.
[y/n] was so happy she couldn’t believe it, and she liked to have seen Anthony taking charge of making them official. When it was announced they were husband and wife, [y/n] jumped over Anthony to kiss him as a lady should never in the presence of her family and in a church, but she did not care, for she had just married her best friend and the love of her life.
“I love you, Anthony.”
“I love you too,” he replied as they sat together at the wedding reception.
“What happens now?” she asked, curious and anxious as she has ever been.
“I shall take care of you, as I always have, but this time I can burn all of your dresses that I don’t approve of, and I shall buy you new ones that will cover you whole, for I’m the only one that can see your wonders now,” he said, making her laugh.
“And I shall keep all of those uneducated ladies away from my Lord, forever,” she said, and he kissed her cheek, unable to hold in his touches.
“You hold that in for very long, huh?”
“Very long indeed,” she said, smirking, for she was not thinking about herself but about him.
“Do you remember what you asked me yesterday afternoon?”
It sure felt like an eternity ago, but she remembered.
Can’t wait to see Season 2 and see these two adventures! I know they won’t focus on them yet, but i still love watching them ! And i love the whole series aesthetic !
Let’s celebrate their coming back with some stickers on my store! Here❤❤❤
they definitely took liberties this season in comparison to the book and i’m pleasantly surprised! i cannot wait to see what they do for benedict’s story
i’m about 100 or so pages into an offer from a gentleman and i am so far in love with it? i love benedict already and this book is making me like him more and sophie is literally the cutest! i’m very worried though because apparently benedict is an asshole in this book
how am i supposed to live knowing that i will never have a love like kanthony? how am i supposed to wake up knowing that no man will ever call me “the bane of my existence” and “the object of all my desires”? how am i supposed to do anything at all knowing that no man will ever love me the way anthony bridgerton loves kate sharma?
season 2 of bridgerton was by far one of my favorite period dramas of all time. could it have more accurately followed the book? yes, but was it still amazing and beautiful? yes.
“my honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious every minute within your presence” SHUT UP SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH YOU HIMBO I LOVE YOU GOOD GOD
summary | Benedict fell in love with a girl he adored so much
paring | Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
request|hii do you still take requests? i really love your writing! can you do a fic based on “Paper Rings” for our best boy Benedict <33
includes | sweet husband!Benedict, Taylor Swift lyrics, pall mall with the Bridgerton and fluff like a lot (italic means flashbacks)
word count | 1.7k +
a/n | here is some more Taylor Swift and Bridgerton boys for you lovely reader! hope you enjoy this one. I am still taking requests but I will warn you it takes me a while to write them which I apologize for but I am doing my best! hope you all are having a great day <3
The moon is high
Like your friends were the night that we first met
Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet
Now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed
She had met Benedict Brigerton unexpectedly. y/n had been trying to sneak away from the ball for a breath of air as her mama seemed to make every man in that house dance with y/n. If she had to dance one more time with another man who stepped on her foot, she was worried she would lash out on accident, giving the ton more gossip to talk about.
y/n had successfully gotten away, walking the halls of the large country home. She had spent a few minutes walking about trying to think back to what she had heard Eloise Bridgerton say which door was the library. y/n thought she could stay in there for a bit before heading back out to the ball. She reached the second door to the end but before she could pull it open, the door moaned open from the other side.
“Oh!” y/n looked up meeting the eyes of the voice.
She recognized him because everyone in the ton knew who the Bridgerton’s were, y/n had conversations with Colin too since becoming friends with Peneople. But y/n had never come face to face with any of the oldest Bridgertons, until now she had come face to face with the second eldest Bridgerton.
“I am sorry Mr Bridgerton,” y/n paused thinking of something else to say, she could see multiple other men behind him. “I seem to have lost my way back to the ball.”
“Is everything alright, Benedict?” Colin peaked over his shoulder, a drink in hand. “y/n? What are you doing here?”
Before she could tell her lie again, Benedict spoke up. “Lost her way back to the ballroom.”
y/n didn’t miss the smirk on his face as he eyed her again. “A house as large as this one is easy to get lost in Mr Bridgerton.”
Benedict laughed, y/n figured the men inside and him had been drinking. Colin opened the door wider stepping in between y/n and Benedict.
“Allow me to show you back,”
“Actually, brother, I would be happy to show Miss,” He trailed off looking directly at y/n.
“y/n y/l.”
“I will escort Miss y/l back to the ballroom, I was just on my way out anyway.” The last part he spoke directly to Colin who simply nodded and bid y/n a goodnight.
Benedict gently closed the door behind them, extending his arm towards y/n for her to take. She did without a second thought, the walk back down the hall was full of stolen glances between the two, but once they reached the inside of the ballroom y/n expected Benedict to tell her goodbye instead he stayed.
“Is there a space for me on your dance card Miss y/l?”
Her eyes widened. “I thought you were leaving Mr Bridgerton.”
“I’ve changed my mind, someone changed my mind and the other thing isn’t important.” He grinned pulling y/n along with him to the dance floor.
— — —
“Darling, have you seen my-?” Benedict’s words died quickly when he saw y/n with the book he was looking for in her lap.
“Hmm?” She hummed, not looking up from the pages.
Benedict couldn’t help but smile, he bent down next to her. “What are you reading?’
“Oh, well you keep saying how this is your favorite poetry book so I thought I would read it and we could talk about it.”
His heart melted at her words. It was something so simple yet made his stomach erupt in butterflies and he had never felt so much love for one person.
With a lopsided grin he said, “Will you marry me?”
y/n dropped the book down looking at Benedict giggling. “Love, we’re already married.”
“Yes but if I could, I would marry you again and again. That is how much I love you.”
— — —
In the winter, in the icy outdoor pool
When you jumped in first, I went in too
I’m with you even if it makes me blue
The colder weather was quickly approaching London. After months of glances across rooms, quick dances and secret meetings to get away from society Benedict had started courting y/n. It was a game of cat and mouse they played for a while but everyone in the ton, especially Lady Whistledown, had expected it to be a love match. Though the couple didn’t pay much attention to what other people were saying about them.
Benedict had invited y/n out to Aubrey Hall to spend time with him and his family. Benedict was planning on proposing to y/n that trip. He had waited long enough to make her his official.
y/n arrived early that afternoon with a grin on her face. She had waited all season to come back to Aubrey Hall and this time it was just her and the Bridgerton’s which was exactly what she wanted. As soon as she walked in Daphne and Eloise had stated there would be a game of Pall Mall taking place right now.
They had been playing the game for almost an hour now. Benedict kept his ball close to y/n’s so he could stand next to her when everyone else took their turn. The pair stood close to each other, not caring of being too proper in front of his family as she had noticed Anthony and Kate had forgotten proper public affection during the game.
Just when it was y/n, Benedict placed a soft kiss on her temple. y/n pulled the mallet back and the ball straight on with so much power it plopped right into the pond. Without thinking y/n started to make her way to the pond not hearing the words from the Briderton family that they had lost another ball to that pond.
“y/n! What are you doing?” Eloise called just as Benedict was about to take his turn, he had not noticed y/n left his side.
y/n pulled her dress up so it wouldn’t touch the water and tried using her mallet to reach the ball placed on top of rocks within the pond. “Getting my ball! If I get it, I’m still in the game.” She shouted back.
“Wait! Careful y/n,” Daphne tried calling out but just as y/n was turning to look at Daphne she slipped, falling into the pond with a squeal.
“y/n!” Benedict took off running down the hill, pulling off his coat and diving into the pond with her.
A fit of giggles erupted from y/n as Benedict reached her. Quickly he realized the pond was no more than four feet deep and y/n was standing perfectly fine leaning against his side to keep her from falling as more laughter rumbled from her. Benedict laughed with her
“Why did you do that?” She finally got out.
Benedict shook his head. “I panicked, I wanted to make sure you were okay and it’s freezing!”
He pulled y/n closer to him noticing just how cold it really was after being completely submerged in water. Benedict began to lead them both out of the pond seeing that the rest of his family had been watching the scene unfold. Daphne and Kate stood at the edge waiting for them with towels. Once they were out and wrapped in towels y/n turned to Benedict, a heart warming smile on her face.
“You jumped into a freezing pond for me.”
“And I would do it again even if it makes me blue.”
— — —
I want your complications too
I want your dreary Mondays
Wrap your arms around me, baby boy
Benedict and y/n had been married for a month now and both never felt happier or more in love. They spend most of their days at home lounging around together as Benedict sketched and y/n read or models for one of his sketches. It was pure bliss for both of them.
Never did Benedict think he would find someone he could love so much, someone who made his heart swell with every little glance and someone who made him feel like himself. He wanted everything that came with marriage and he wanted everything y/n had to offer him no matter how good or bad it was. That’s what Benedict Bridgerton wanted and that’s what he had.
Now as the pair sat on the couch together he took y/n’s left hand and rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand. He placed the sketch book down, taking a second to look at her, studying her features and just look at the women he loved.
“You’re staring at me, darling.” y/n said without looking up from her book, a grin forming on her lips.
“I am simply looking at the women I love, can a husband not do that?”
y/n blushed at his words leaning into his side, Benedict still playing with her hand twisting the ring on her finger. He studied the ring, it was a very simple ring but y/n loved it, however, Benedict didn’t know if she did or not. He was the one who picked it out from his mothers collection but never asked her if she liked it.
“Darling, would you like a better ring? Perhaps with a bigger jewel, I know I can get you one if you so wish.” Benedict continued to rant about buying her a different ring but y/n stopped him but a light squeezed of his hand to reassure him.
“Benedict I don’t need a big ring or a new one for that matter. This one is special to both of us and I love it,”
“But you deserve more.” He sighed.
“All I want is you Benedict and you could have given me a ring made out of paper, and I would have still said yes. I don’t need anything new or shiny because you’re the one that I want.”
The biggest feeling of love washed over him in that moment, he pulled her in for a kiss. A kiss meant to say more words than he could ever utter.
new sunday tradition | Anthony Bridgerton x reader
summary | reader gets Anthony to help her cook even though he never knew she loved to cook
paring | Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
request|loved ur recent fic! idk if requests are open but I would love one with Anthony and fem!Y/N teaching him how to cook bc no matter your gender or social status y/n thinks cooking is a foundational skill :)
includes | husband!Anthony and just cute moments between reader and Anthony
word count | 1.1K+
a/n | I really hope I made this as cute and fluffy as this request should be. thank you anon for this request, it was too cute imagining Anthony doing this. hope you enjoy this fic! (gif not mine!)
“Please, Anthony. Just give it a try?” y/n asked with a spoon in her hand toward her husband who stood crossed armed wearing one of her flora aprons she had begged him to wear.
summary: Anthony is looking for a wife when his plans take a turn but for better or for worse is the question? (request)
includes: friends to enemies to lovers, a little bit of heartbroken Anthony, a happy ending and Bridgerton brother moments
word count:3.1k+
a/n: it’s a long one but I enjoyed writing it and I hope you like it! warning but it is not edited, I have an exam tomorrow but I wanted to get at least one request out for everyone <3 (not my gif!)
Y/n had been sitting there for no more than two minutes before the man she was waiting for walked in. She was not exactly sure how he called upon her asking to meet him at the tea shop. At this time it was almost empty, only a few mama’s and their daughters occupied tables.
As Anthony Bridgerton walked in, all eyes were on him. Of course everyone knew of the rakes decision to find a wife this season and what mama wouldn’t want their daughter marrying a Bridgerton. That’s when it hit y/n, the reason Anthony has asked her here. She has heard talk of him interviewing lady’s left and right trying to find a suitable wife and the social season had yet to officially start.
“Miss y/l, thank you for meeting me.” Anything said, taking a seat in front of her.
“Of course Mr Bridgerton. Though, if I may ask, why it is you asked to meet me?” y/n smoothed out her dress on her lap.
Anthony cleared his throat, “As you may have read or heard, Miss y/l, I am looking for a wife this season. Someone who will fulfill all duties of my viscountess, an important job at most.”
y/n nodded along with his words.
“I would like to ask you some questions, if that is alright.”
Something about his words made her let out a laugh, her hand quickly coming over her mouth to stop it. Anthony heads here, stopping his actions of looking at his notebook with his questions, to look up at her.
“My apologies Mr Bridgeton,”
“May you explain why you laughed?” He did not sound upset or angry at her, just genuinely curious. No woman he had interviewed before gave him this reaction, they all just obeyed his words.
“It is just,” She hesitated but Anthony nodded for her to go on. “Do you really expect to find a wife by asking her silly questions? I understand you must have someone suitable, who hits all your marks but how will you know if you can get along? These questions will not tell you everything Mr Bridgerton.”
Anthony took a few beats to consider her words. He suspected she was right because he had gone through multiple failed interviews with women who looked suitable but he couldn’t marry them. Anthony knew she was right which is why he closed the notebook, leaned back in his chair and sighed.
“I believe you are right,” He admitted. “All week I have conducted interviews just to send them away once more,”
Anthony paused wondering if he should continue speaking. He did not know this girl completely, he had only encountered her at the many balls they both attended and knew of her name but something about her words before made him trust her.
“I am not looking for a love match. I do not want that but I have duties I must attend to and finding a wife is one of them. It is just something I must simply do.”
y/n frowned, “Perhaps it is not a love match you are looking for, my lord, but should you not find someone worthy of your title, of your time and maybe then you will learn to love her? I apologize if I have said too much,”
Anthony stopped her. Again, he didn’t want to admit it, but she was right about all of it. He did not want a love match only someone tolerable because he had seen first hand what love did to someone, though it could be beautiful it could also cause someone so much pain. Anthony didn’t want to be the cause of someone’s pain.
“Do you think I should give up?” Anthony let his guard down, asking y/n a genuine question he had been too afraid to speak of.
y/n shook her head, “No I do not think that. I think there is someone out there for you, Mr Bridgerton, who is looking for what you are looking for but I also think that there is a possibility of love for you too.”
He just simply smiled, took one last look at her and apologized for wasting her time before taking his leave.
It wasn’t until a few days later when Anthony would see y/n again. Since the afternoon he left her in the tea shop, he couldn’t stop thinking about her words. She was a stranger but she believed he was worthy of finding love even though she knew of his lifestyle and reputation.
He saw her again at a ball, another ball of the season and y/n lost count of how many she had gone to this season. She even lost count of the names on her dance card, though not full yet it felt like she had been dancing for hours on end.
Just as the music stopped she let out a breath, bowing to the man she had just danced with and fled the dancefloor without a word. The man did not say a word to her, y/n did step on his feet more than a few times so she couldn’t blame him. y/n stood near the drink table, sipping on some lemonade watching the next dance start.
“Good evening Miss y/l,” Anthony stood next to her, looking out to the dance floor.
She looked towards him, a smile on his face. “Looking for a wife, Mr Bridgerton?”
“Just simply looking at the dance.”
“Well, I hear the Diamond of the season is a perfectly honorable lady. I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting her so I cannot tell you truthfully, I suppose we shall wait to see what Lady Whistledown says.”
He laughed, which surprised him but he let it happen. y/n giggled with him both stopping when someone glared at them. After that Anthony did not speak, he just stood there in y/n’s presence watching the dance and events of the ball. He felt comfortable standing there next to her, he didn’t feel the need to make meaningless conversation about the weather or food they were serving. Anthony let his shoulders relax a little bit and looked over at y/n.
His eyes traced over her face until they reached her lips, placed in a little smile as she watched the dance. Anthony let his eyes linger there for a few seconds just as the song finished, he grabbed y/n hand in his.
“Mr Bridgerton?”
“Dance with me, Miss y/l.” She nodded letting Anthony lead her to the dance floor.
As the song started again something shone in y/n’s eyes and a bigger smile painted her lips.
“I did not take you as a dancer Mr Bridgerton,”
He smiled, “I suppose there are more things you shall learn about me Miss y/l.”
Weeks later and not a day had passed when y/n wasn’t in Anthony’s company. He had unofficially been courting her, in the way that the pair of them never spoke of it but everyone else knew. Lady Whistledown had even written about the pair and of course, y/n knew of Anthony’s intentions for finding a wife but it never crossed her mind that it could be her.
She simply thought he was being a friend inviting her over to dinner with the Bridgerton’s and even allowed her to play a game of Pall Mall (to which y/n had picked up on the competitive nature of the Bridgerton siblings easily and joined in on the teasing) when his mother hosted a weekend at Aubrey Hall.
It had also not occurred to Anthony until his brothers began to ask questions.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Miss y/l,” Colin said one night as the brother lounged in Anthony’s office.
“I have noticed that too, though it is not hard to tell when she is constantly over here.” Benedict said in between sips of his drink.
Anthony didn’t take their words to heart, he thought they were just making a clear observation. “I have, yes, Miss y/l is a friend.”
Colin tilted his head in question, “Are you not courting her? It seems like you are and mother thinks so too.”
“Yes! I think I heard mother and y/n’s mother speaking of the matter, they were practically planning your wedding dear brother.” Benedict teased. It was a lie he had not heard this but earlier in the afternoon Colin and him planned this whole conversation out. Anthony had not told them anything, they thought it was because he did not realize he was in love with y/n, so they took matters into their own hands. They will find out the truth tonight.
And the truth was Anthony did love y/n. He just didn’t want to admit it, to himself or anyone because if he did all his worst fears would be coming true. Anthony knew there was only so much time that he could deny it before someone found out and it seemed like his brothers had.
“Don’t be silly,” Anthony said sternly. “We are friends and nothing more.”
Benedict didn’t like his answer. Colin looked at Benedict waiting to see what they should do but it seemed like Anthony did not want to speak of it more. Taking a second before speaking Colin thought about what he could change the subject too that would still lead back to y/n.
“Then how is the search for a wife going, Anthony?”
There had been no search. He had spent all his time with y/n that the search for a wife had quickly ended after his first dance with her, since he let his guard down and allowed him to be vulnerable with someone. But if said it outloud now then it would be real, it would be out there and he would have to do something about it.
“There is no search,” Anthony paused. “I may have stopped looking when I met y/n. Simply by accident but it still happened because I have come to love her and I am not sure what to do about it.”
His two younger brothers smiled, for many different reasons but mostly because they were happy for him. He had finally admitted it.
“You must do something about it! You must tell her, Anthony.” Exclaimed Benedict.
Anthony agreed.
So that night he planned to go see your father, Anthony was a gentleman and he wanted to do this the right way, he wanted to get his permission before asking y/n to marry him. That led him to her drawing room early that morning and in conversation with y/n’s father, who had agreed to the marriage with open arms, y/n came in surprised to see Anthony there.
“Oh! Good morning Mr Bridgerton, have I forgotten our plans for today?” y/n asked to take a seat across for her father and Anthony.
“No plans just stopped by to talk with your father.” He smiled.
Just then her father excused himself with a giddy smile on his face as he rushed off muttering something about fetching her mother. y/n sat there confused waiting for someone to explain to her.
“May I ask what business you had with my-” Before she finished speaking, y/n caught a glimpse of the small ring box in Anthony’s hand. She knew a box similar to it, she had seen it in her mama’s collection of jewelry. An uneasy feeling setting within her. “Anthony, what is that?”
Anthony smiled, his mind too clouded by her father’s approval and what he planned to do, to notice the look on her face.
“y/n, my business with your father happened to be about you. I have enjoyed every second we have spent together, my family loves you and even more after you played Pall Mall like a true Bridgerton,” Anthony chuckled before going on. “I didn’t realize it until very recently but I have come to love you, y/n. Something I didn’t want but something that happened in the most unexpected way and I’m here to ask for your hand in marriage. If you would do me the honors.”
y/n felt too many emotions at once. She thought about the day she met Anthony, he had not asked her but she did not plan on getting married anytime soon and even though she had come to enjoy her time with Anthony, she merely thought they were friends.
The love she had felt for him was pushed down weeks ago when they became friendly and if she was being honest, like most ladies in the ton, she had noticed the handsome Viscount before he even knew her name but that was a silly crush. Now all of it was real because he had seen her and fallen for her but she couldn’t marry him. It was as simple as that.
“y/n?” Anthony questioned a few beats later.
As her head started to shake, Anthony felt his heart break.
“I cannot marry you Anthony. I am sorry but I can’t,” Tears started to spill from her eyes. “I don’t want to get married, not yet and I have a right to deny an engagement even though this one hurts because I know I have hurt you.”
“Why can’t you marry me?”
y/n closed her eyes, “We want different things, Anthony. You want a wife to give you a heir, to have a family with and someone worthy of the title of viscountess but I never told you, when we met, that marriage was not in my card right now. I realize I have had plenty of opportunities to tell you, however, I did not know you felt this way. Forgive me Mr Bridgerton.”
Her words stung. She might have confessed they didn’t want the same things, which hurt him too, but the way she said Mr Bridgerton hurt him even more. y/n had not called him that in months and that hurt more, Anthony didn’t know why. Perhaps it was the formality of it as if they hadn’t spent enough time together to fully drop the formalities in private.
Anthony didn’t know what to do at that moment. He just sat there with a clenched jaw begging for tears not to fall as his vision clouded over. Soon he noticed y/n had stood up, her hands in front of her as she played with the lace of her gloves looking at the floor.
“I’m sorry Anthony but I think you should leave.” Anthony nodded at her words, pulling him out of his head. Without a goodbye he left the house, walking all the way to his home and he entered to see his family waiting there for him with smiles on their faces. But the second Violet saw her son’s face, she gestured to Benedict and Colin to lead their siblings to the drawing room.
He made haste to his office, his mother on his heels. Inside he threw his head back a noise between a gasp and laugh coming from his mouth.
“What happened, Anthony?” Violet asked carefully.
“She doesn’t love me,” He said between clenched teeth. “I poured my heart out to her and she denied me. Mother I have wasted so much time on that woman, too much time, and now I have failed at finding a wife. All the suitable women and the diamond of the season have probably already had an engagement. What am I to do now?”
The question was rhetorical and Violent knew that. She allowed him to ramble on.
“She is so aggravating! I should have known this is what she wanted.” Anthony threw a book down that startled Violet. She knew there was not much she could do right now, so she left with a simple “When you are ready we may talk like adults.”
However, the social season was coming to a close in just a few days and Anthony was back to interviewing potential suitors. He had been wrong, there were still honorable women left and some had better odds than others in his quest. A perfectly nice and tolerable lady was just leaving the Bridgerton drawing room, leaving Anthony alone when a knock sounded on the door.
With a shaky hand, y/n pushed open the door to the drawing room. Anthony did not look up too occupied with his notes of the woman before.
“She looked nice, she will make a lovely Viscountess.” Anthony quickly looked up to meet y/n’s eyes with a scowl on his face.
“Who let you in?” His words dripped with anger though he tried to keep perfectly still.
“Colin and Benedict called upon me,” y/n paused. “A week ago. They have been helping me with something.”
Anthony cut her off, “With what?”
“An apology,” She shrugged, taking a step into the room. “I think I owe you one, Anthony and though I think you owe me one too, that is not what I am here for. Over the past couple weeks I have had time to gather my thoughts and I would like to tell you, if you’d let me.”
Part of Anthony wanted to make her hurt but the other part wanted to hear everything she had to say so he paused, long enough for her to get anxious and nodded his head for her to continue.
“I did not know that love was something you could have before marrying. My parents simply learned to love each other over time and so has everyone in my family, it was all I know but you knew love was possible. You have been hurt by it, I know with your father but like I told you when we met, I believed love would still find you.”
If y/n was being honest she was surprised Anthony just sat there and let her talk so she took a step closer to her. She was just up against the chair across from him.
“You found love Anthony and I never meant to hurt you. It wasn’t my intention but I do love you, I just didn’t know what the feeling was until you left. Until I realized everything I’ve ever wanted was right in front of me. I love you Anthony Bridgerton.”
Quicker than she could comprehend, Anthony grabbed y/n’s hand pulling her directly into his chest as his lips fell onto hers. It was something he had wanted to do for weeks now and he couldn’t help but do it now, even though just moments before he realized she vexed him but his love for her outweighed all of the hurt they had both gone through.
and now I see daylight | Benedict Bridgerton x reader
Paring | Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Request|omg can i request benedict bridgerton with taylor swift song ‘Daylight’ please
What To Expect | Benedict being so in love with reader, some Bridgerton sibling banter, Eloise is friends with the reader and Taylor Swift lyrics ( listen to Daylight here!)
Word Count | 2.1K
Author’s Note | keep the Bridgerton boys x Taylor Swift song request coming loves!! I really loved writing this one and I’ve come to the conclusion Benedict would be a Lover stan. hope you all enjoy this cute little fic! (not my gif!)
Tag List|@evqans (reply to be added to the tag list!)
There are so many lines that I’ve crossed unforgiven\ I’ll tell you the truth, but never goodbye
Benedict Bridgerton did not think he would settle down so fast. Then again, after watching his eldest brother fall for Kate, something he thought was impossible, Benedict should have known the same fate was laid out for him.
The moment he had seen her, everything seemed to make sense. Every song that played made him want to dance with y/n. Every love poem he read made a warm feeling settle within him because it reminded him of her. Every sketch or painting he made always led back to y/n.
But with every good feeling came with hurt from his past. Benedict Bridgerton had lived a life of a rake. Carefree and out of the way of ambitious mama’s wanting a Bridgerton to marry their daughter. He had spent many days drinking and laying with women he wouldn’t not remember much about the next day. A past he knew he could leave but not run from. Too many people knew of his reputation especially after Anthony had gotten married it seemed like all eyes were on him, the second eldest Bridgerton son who was still living the life of a rake.
But that lifestyle he had lived changed when you walked into that ball. A ball his mother threw at the Bridgerton home. He had spotted you from across the room, speaking with Eloise and suddenly, he felt this warm feeling he had only read about in stories and poems or felt through art.
He knew you were a lady. By the way your hair was perfectly in place, delicate gloves reaching your elbow and the way you stood straighter compared to Eloise. Clearly your mama had put effort into your ways of being a lady. Benedict wondered what you spoke so enthusiastically about with Eloise, perhaps books or how terrible another social season is. He knew it must be the ladder because in that moment y/n giggled at something his sister had said and Benedict could feel it cast a smile on his lips.
Shaking his head, Benedict grabbed a drink and fled. He had not known you, he had only seen you for a few minutes and in that time he saw her there something blossomed within him. It might not have been love in that moment but it was a deep desire to hear her voice, watch her laugh and not from afar, to be the person who made her laugh. Benedict had all these wildest dreams for a lady he just saw across the room.
A few minutes later, out in the gardens, Eloise found him on the swings. A scene the pair of siblings were all too familiar with.
“You look like you’ve experienced the feeling of love, dear brother. Or perhaps, love and heartbreak all in one evening?” Eloise jokes, taking the swing next to him.
Benedict huffed out a puff of air for an answer, then with surprise to himself and his sister he asked “Who were you talking to near the drink table Eloise?”
Eloise tilted her head, “That would be y/n, she’s just arrived in London. Made quick friends with her this evening, Penelope’s not here but when I found y/n in a corner trying to escape a dance I knew I had to be friends with her.”
Benedict grinned, waiting for Eloise to continue.
“Her mama is hoping for a marriage at the end of the season though y/n does not want the same.”
“You do both have that in common,” They both laughed. “Would you introduce us?”
Eloise’s eyes widened like she had just figured out a puzzle, “Is she the one who is making you feel these things, Benedict? You didn’t even know her name before this.”
He didn’t but her beauty capatived him in an instant, was what he wanted to tell Eloise. It was unlike anything he had experienced before, Benedict wanted to get to know y/n. He didn’t just want a night with her, no, he wanted a life with her and if it was too soon to speak of Benedict’s heart didn’t care.
Instead, he pushed her on her swing making the siblings laugh before they went back inside.
I’ve been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night/ And now I see daylight, I only see daylight
Eloise had introduced them that night.
Though y/n’s mother was quick to interfere as she had discovered there was a Duke in attendance who was looking for a wife. Benedict could tell y/n did not want to go, she tried to make up a story that Benedict had asked her for a dance but when a mama of the ton was eager for a wedding, nothing could come between that. Not even Benedict Bridgerton.
So, Benedict watched y/n dance with the duke and after, he watched her talk with him, a bored look on her face as he looked enthusiastic about whatever nonsense he rambled on about. Before he could think, Benedict was making his way to her and soon he cleared his throat getting your attention.
“Ah! Mr. Bridgerton, what a lovely party your mother had thrown. It was so kind of her to invite me,” Said the duke Benedict did not care to catch his name.
“Yes, thank you.” Benedict turned to y/n. “Excuse me Miss. y/l, but I believe my name is on your dance card for this next dance.”
It was a lie. Her mama did not even give Benedict time to ask for a dance but something about the way y/n smiled made him think she was perfectly okay with this lie.
“I believe you are right Mr. Bridgerton. Apologies, your grace. I did, however, enjoy our conversation.” Y/n placed her hand just over Benedict’s but not enough to touch. “Oh! And thank you for the dance.”
As he took her hand, the music started playing and a bright, fuzzy feeling erupted in Benedict. Her touch made him see daylight even in the darkest of nights that could be seen from the windows in the ballroom.
“You saved me Mr. Bridgerton,”
“Call me Benedict.” He whispered.
Matching his low volume y/n leaned in and said, “I do not believe the ton will think that proper.”
Of course he knew she was right but in that moment he would have given anything to hear her speak his name and not just Mr. Bridgerton, something everyone called him and his brothers. Benedict wanted to hear his name fall from her lips like a sweet melody only meant for him.
“Forgive me Miss y/l but if I am correct, you do not care for what the ton says. Eloise told me that much, no wonder you two became fast friends.”
“Well, I suppose you are right about that.” She smiled as Benedict twirled her around then came back to face him. “I am glad Eloise introduced us, Benedict.”
There it was. His name on her lips. A perfectly sweet sound he wished to never stop hearing. His breath hitched for a second, he had hoped she did not notice the way she made him feel, not that he was embarrassed by it but he was confused, to say the least.
He had had many lovers. Good ones he left wounded by his rake lifestyle and ones who were not so good that he placed too much trust into. Benedict Briderton was carefree but he had put up walls for many years, never letting too many people in. But in this moment, with his hand on her waist and her breath against his neck, he let those walls down.
I once believed love would be (Black and white)/But it’s golden (Golden)
To y/n’s mama’s dismay, y/n had begun seeing Benedict more often. After the first couple days of going over to the Bridgerton house with the excuse that Eloise, her new friend, had a book to show y/n, Benedict made it official that he was courting y/n.
It wasn’t until Lady Whistledown started writing about the pair weeks after the Bridgerton House ball that both families seemed very interested in the relationship between Benedict and y/n. The pair had even caught their mother’s talking about who would hold the wedding breakfast and Benedict watched y/n laugh it off with a simple smile, he had blushed because he had thought about a wedding like their mothers.
In a matter of weeks y/n had captured his heart and he had begun to dream about what a life with her might look like. Something Benedict had never done with any of the women he had encountered.
“Benedict? Did you hear me?” y/n called. She had been at the piano with Francesca and Hyacinth
who begged her, the second the couple walked in, to show her the piano forte they had been working on. That was over an hour ago.
“Apologies y/n, can you repeat that?” He sat up straighter.
Next to her the two youngest Bridgerton girls giggled, “He’s in love!”
“Are you dreaming about your wedding to y/n already, Benedict?” Francasica teased.
Y/n laughed, “Do every single one of you Bridgerton’s really want us to get married? Your mama and mine seem to have it all planned out!”
This made the girls even more excited. Though, from behind them they heard a groan from Elosie who had snuck in at some point. She came over and slumped on the couch next to Benedict.
“Do you really have to marry one of my friends? If so, I might say I regret introducing you two.”
Y/n looked over to Benedict. His face was as red as ever, he slowly lifted the sketch book to his face trying to hide from the madness his sisters had created. He shook his head, not to dismiss the idea of marrying y/n but to try and shake away the embarrassed feeling in his stomach.
Around an hour later the couple would be left alone. Though not totally alone as a maid was cleaning up the room and keeping an eye on the pair. Benedict was still sketching under candle light now as the sun began to set. Y/n held a book in hand, just raised enough so it looked like she was reading but really she was looking at Benedict.
The talk of marriage had gotten to her. It was something she had recently thought about as she had had a strict “no marriage” rule this season, something she even expressed to Eloise the night she met Benedict but now it did seem like something she wanted. What she wanted was to be with him and only him.
But it seemed like her and Benedict had skipped over the topic every time someone brought it up and y/n was curious to know what he would say.
“May I ask you a question?” She placed the book down, folding her hands in her lap.
“Of course, dear.”
Y/n stayed on the couch across from him, if she had to escape the door was right behind her. “Is marriage something you want?”
Benedict’s hand quickly stopped his sketch, “Um, in general or…?”
She shook her head, “To me. Married to me, Benedict, is that something you would want? It seems like our families cannot stop talking about it and it’s gotten to my head. I apologies if this is not what you want,”
Benedict quickly got out of his seat. Kneeling down, taking her hands in his stopping her words but not before bringing her chin down so their eyes met. He smiled, a bright and beautiful lopsided smile. One that y/n had memorized, one that sent a perfect feeling throughout her whole body.
“My dear y/n. You have no clue how long I have thought about marrying you. From the moment I met you, something pulled me in and I could just imagine a life with you so easily. You make me a better man. You are like the warm feeling of a sunny day. You are the daylight breaking through my darkest of days telling me I will be alright. In your arms, I feel safe and I hope you feel the same, my love.”
Benedict stopped to place a hand on her cheek, his thumb gliding over the top of her cheek. “So yes. Y/n I do want to marry you and if you would like to marry me, I will try my hardest everyday to give you the best life I can.”
Without saying a word, y/n leaned down. Placing a kiss on his lips; soft and gentle but so full of love and passion they pair held for each other.
