#viscount bridgerton | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whispersoftheton · 11 months

Note

This idea has been on my mind for a while… Anthony seeing you in the bridgerton blues for the first time, can either be smut or fluff :) thanks

Ahhhh I love this so much, thank you for sending it in! :)

Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: kissing, fluff, smut, p in v

Word Count: 1.2K

The family gathered around the room on another sweltering summer day. Hyacinth and Gregory bickered over yet another sworn tie in their endless chess matches while Eloise quietly read her book in the opposite corner. Anthony sat between his brothers, Benedict telling him of his endless tales from class among the unspoken soirees he discreetly attended from time to time and Colin of his many travels. Anthony found himself growing bored, awaiting your arrival. You were to accompany him and the rest of the Bridgertons to the races this afternoon, as it would be your first outing as a family since your marriage to the Viscount. And he could not bear to listen to another one of Benedict's tales for one more second; he needed to see you.

"Mother." Anthony stood hurriedly from the gold-trimmed sofa to approach Lady Bridgerton as she entered the room. "Where is she?"

"Now, calm down, Anthony; she is nearly ready." Lady Birdgerton assured him while straightening out his neckline to perfection. She knew Anthony's antics well enough by now to understand his growing impatience was only a product of his theatrics.

"I feel as though I have been waiting an eternity. Surely she must-" Anthony made his way past his mother and into the hallway, his words stammered as soon as his eyes landed on you. You'd been making your way to the main room when he appeared in your path, a smile gracing both your lips. There was no word in the English language to describe how beautiful you looked. The most impeccable dress draped over every curve in a more delicate shade of blue than he wore but complimented his outerwear perfectly. Warmth blossomed in Anthony’s chest at the sight of you in that color. His color. He never thought he'd see the day when the one he loved, the one his heart eternally yearned for, would wear the color that meant so much to him and his family. He would never tire of how easily you overpowered him whenever he was in your presence.

"Do I look alright?" You nervously patted your skirt, ensuring everything was as it should be. Hesitation apparent in your tone as you approached him.

"Alright?" Anthony's eyes widened as he took your hands in his. He couldn't believe you would use a modest word such as 'alright' to describe how exquisite you looked right now. "My love, you look…absolutely stunning. Beyond words, truly." Heat filled your face, and your stomach fluttered at his flattery. Anthony had a way of making you feel as though you two were the only person on the face of the earth, easily melting under his gaze. It was an exquisite feeling you wished to relish in forever. Anthony glanced around and took advantage of the privacy to steal a kiss. His lips were warm and soft against your own. They parted slightly, allowing you to move more passionately as your hunger for one another became apparent in mere seconds. It shouldn't be surprising, seeing as you and your husband could hardly keep your hands off each other since your wedding night. The moment grew heated with every swipe of his tongue, hands caressing the soft flesh of your waist and hips hidden beneath the restricting fabric of your dress.

"Mother!" Anthony reluctantly pulled away, panting, and shouted. "Go ahead without us. We will join you shortly, as promised." Without so much as a second thought or a response from anyone, he whisked you away toward a nearby closet in a closed-off hallway he was sure no one wandered by.

"Anthony, what are you doing? The races are starting soon." You protested before he cut you off with another chaste kiss and shut the door behind him.

"We will join them in a moment. I must have you right now." The passion flowed through his words, making you squeeze your thighs together in anticipation and a chuckle escape you. He pulled you close, continuing his ministrations. His lips scattered kisses along your neckline and down to your chest as your hands tangled in his hair. His hands worked tirelessly to remove as many barriers between your bodies as quickly as possible as he gently guided you to lean on the wall behind you. Your dress was bunched up toward you as Anthony hastily removed his trousers just to his upper thigh. You panted under him, his lips never leaving your skin, leaving a trail of marks and bruises as a reminder of his love for you.

"Seeing you in our family color," Anthony spoke between kisses. "You are so beautiful." He was rambling as he often did when he was this worked up. The way you looked, how your body responded to his every touch. Every beautiful sound he was able to pull from you, it drove him mad. He couldn't take it anymore; he had to have you now. Anthony abruptly lifted and pressed you against the wall, your fingers tugging at his hair and desperately nipping at his lower lip, pulling an animalistic groan from his chest.

"Anthony, please." You practically whimpered when you felt his cock prod at your entrance, clenching around nothing as the tip slid over your sensitive clit. He lined himself up and pressed his lips against yours to swallow any sounds you made as he gently pushed inside you. You moaned into each other in unison, and he waited, letting you settle as you nodded for him to move. Anthony began to plunge into you, easily slipping through your folds, feeling your warm cunt swallow him whole. He cupped your breast over the fabric of your dress, kneading it in his hands while breathing heavily as he bottomed out inside of you, holding you there for a moment, reveling in how impossibly soft and warm you felt around him as low whimpers escaped you.

A low grunt rumbled from his chest when he felt you fluttering around him. His hand outlined from the swell of your breasts all the way down beneath your hips, memorizing every curve, feeling the way your chest was rising and falling with every breath of pleasure that surged through you; even the way your hips instinctively moved to meet his own drove him insane. Anthony craved and wanted nothing more than to be close to you; even being inside you now, it was never close enough for him. He began to stroke your clit, already aching for attention. Your bodies rocked in sync with one another, desperate for relief. Anthony felt you whine quietly as your orgasm crashed into you. Waves of heat overwhelmed your body as you pulsed on his cock, pulling Anthony to spill himself inside of you.

Anthony pulled away from you after a moment of stolen kisses and delicate touches. He made sure you were settled on the ground and took the time to adjust himself. Moving quickly to assist you in fixing your dress and ensuring everything else was in order before opening the door to confirm no one was outside and stepping out of the closet. You may have missed the race's first leg, but with the knowing smirks and blissed-out looks on both your faces, it was well worth it.

Tag List: @bugnug @queenofmean14 (let me know if you would like to added here or dm me if you’d like to be removed)

I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton one shot #anthony bridgerton angst #bridgerton netflix #lady bridgerton #viscount bridgerton

2K notes · View notes

captainsophiestark · 6 months

Text

A Perfect Match

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Bridgerton

Day 19 Prompt: "What if we're wrong?"

Summary: Anthony and Y/N have been dancing around each other for far too long. Benedict and Colin decide to do something about that.

Word Count: 1,726

Category: Fluff, minor angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Benedict's POV

"Colin!" I hissed, poking my head into the study where my brother sat journaling about his travels. He looked up at me like he had no idea why I could be bothering him. "Lady Y/N is here."

"Oh!"

He shot out of his seat, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. We'd only been putting together our plan to get her and my brother together for a week. How he could've forgotten was beyond me.

"Alright, she's having tea with Eloise in the drawing room. I'm going to go get her and bring her to Anthony's study," I said as Colin and I walked through the halls. "You just be ready to come give me a reason to leave once we're in there."

Colin nodded, then paused.

"Benedict? What if we're wrong? About their feelings?"

I sighed. Anthony and Y/N truly did butt heads at every opportunity as if they hated each other. But it was hard to miss the longing looks and the way one of them got distracted just by the other walking into the room. I shrugged.

"Well, I suppose if we're wrong, they'll probably kill us."

Colin gave me a look, but I completely ignored it as I marched into the drawing room.

****************

Y/N's POV

"Y/N!"

I turned from my tea and the book spread between me and Eloise at the sound of Benedict's voice, giving him a friendly smile as he entered the room.

"Hello, Benedict. Lovely to see you."

"Likewise. Actually, I was wondering if you could spare a moment to accompany me upstairs? Anthony mentioned needing to see you for something, and I told him that since I was on my way down, I'd bring you back up."

"Anthony wanted to see me?" I asked, working very hard to keep my tone neutral. Benedict nodded.

"Yes, if you don't mind."

"Actually, we do mind," Eloise chimed in. "Tell Anthony he can get his own friend."

"Eloise, Mother wanted to see you as well," Benedict responded smoothly. "She's in the garden."

Eloise narrowed her eyes, and I watched the staring contest develop like a tennis match. Finally, after a few moments, Eloise gave in and stood with a sigh.

"Fine. I shall go find her. But if this is a ruse, Benedict-"

"For what purpose? You are entirely too suspiscious sister."

I hid a laugh behind my hand as Eloise glared at Benedict on her way out of the room. I truly loved the Bridgertons, and watching them interact was more entertaining than the most competitive horse race.

"Lady Y/N," said Benedict, offering his arm to me with a smile. I took it, my mind racing as Benedict and I made our way upstairs. Anthony and I had a rather unusual relationship, and although I'd never admit it, I had developed strong feelings for the Viscount over the course of knowing him. The curiosity over why he wanted to see me was eating me alive.

"Did Anthony mention what he wished to discuss?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.

"No, he only asked me to hurry," Benedict responded. We reached the door, and Benedict held it open for me. "After you."

I stepped inside, feeling a bit nervous. Anthony was hard at work, scribbling away at papers on his desk, but he looked up when he saw me.

"Lady Y/N! Hello, uh..." He cleared his throat and shuffled some of the papers into a neater pile absentmindedly.

"Here she is, brother, like you asked," said Benedict as he came to stand beside me. Anthony's brow furrowed like he was confused, but Colin poked his head into the study before Anthony could say anything.

"Benedict!" said Colin. "Mother sent me, she needs to see you immediately."

Now it was my turn to be a bit confused, especially as Benedict grimaced like Colin had some something wrong. Before I could say anything, however, Benedict was moving quickly towards the door.

"Right, well, then I'd better not keep her waiting."

With that, he and Colin ducked into the hall, closing the door behind them. A moment later I heard the door lock, and then a sound like something heavy being pushed against it from the other side.

"Did they just..."

I stared in shock at the door for a few moments, whirled around to look at Anthony, then turned back to the door again. Benedict and Colin had just locked me in here, with Anthony, who looked as surprised as I did.

After a long moment of inaction, Anthony pushed back from his desk and quickly crossed the room. I watched as he tried the door and it didn't budge, then tried it again. Finally, he shoved it a bit with his shoulder as if it were stuck, and still nothing worked.

"Benedict! Colin!" he shouted through the door. No response.

"Anthony?" He whirled around to face me, eyes a little wild. "Did you actually ask Benedict to bring me up here to talk about something?"

"What? No, I haven't seen Benedict all morning."

I crossed my arms and shook my head, turning away from Anthony.

"I can't believe those two. I can't believe them."

"What are you talking about?"

I huffed an irritated sigh, then answered without turning around.

"Benedict dragged me away from tea with Eloise, telling me you'd asked to see me, right away. I don't know what on earth he and Colin were thinking, but now I'm stuck in here with you-"

I stopped abruptly, not trusting myself to continue speaking. Anthony and I butted heads plenty, but there was no denying how much I enjoyed spending time with him. Sparring with him when we disagreed and never feeling angry, just excited. Laughing as he complained about having to participate in the season but feeling jealous when one of the other girls or Mamas got their hands on him... I loved him. But I wasn't sure I wanted to admit it.

"Is it really so awful?"

Anthony's voice was thick, more vulnerable than I'd really ever heard it before. I turned around to fix him with a questioning look, and he held my eyes, although he looked ready to run at a moment's notice. Unfortunately for him, we had nowhere to go.

"Is it really so awful to be stuck in here with me?" Anthony continued when I didn't answer him. "Do you really hate me so much?"

My heart shattered in my chest, especially at the tentative sadness in his voice. My answer didn't come right away, and after a second or two of silence, Anthony turned away.

"I'm sorry. Forget I said anything-"

"Anthony no I- I'm sorry." I started crossing the room to him, but stopped halfway, thinking better of it. "I have fun giving you a hard time and arguing over silly things with you. But if I've done that to the point that you feel I truly hate you... then I'm sorry, I should never have let it go that far."

Anthony turned to face me again, a guarded expression on his face.

"So you do not hate me?"

"No. Quite the opposite, actually."

I took a deep breath, steeling myself to say what I needed to say next. I trusted Benedict and Colin not to do this to me unless they had some idea that my feelings for Anthony were mutual. Hopefully, that trust wasn't misplaced, but even if it was, denying my feelings had only hurt Anthony and I both. It had to end.

"Anthony, I'm sure this will be considered entirely too forward for me to say as a lady, but... I rather think I love you. You challenge me in a way no other man ever has, and when we are aligned, our teamwork knows no equal. There may be other men who would treat me well, and there may even be other men who would respect me as a partner, but none of them would be you. You, Anthony... you are my perfect match. And if I've led you to believe I hated you, then I am truly sorry. I assure you I do not."

Anthony just stared back at me, not taking his eyes off me the entire time I spoke. He didn't respond right away after I finished, still just staring, his expression unreadable. I started to sweat and fidget, immediately regretting my words and wishing I could take them back.

"You know, Anthony, actually-"

Before I could finish the thought, Anthony rushed to close the rest of the distance between us, sweeping me off my feet and spinning me around in his arms. I yelped, but when he set me down, we both had massive smiles on our faces.

"I apologize. That was rather improper of me," he said, not sounding the least bit sorry. I smiled back and leaned into him a little more.

"No more improper than my confession, or your brothers locking us in this room together."

Anthony hummed, leaning into me and pulling me close to him again, one hand tangling in my hair as he murmured into my ear.

"I feel the same, you know. I have for some time. I just never imagined that you would care for me as much as I cared for you."

I smiled, wrapping my arms tight around Anthony and holding him close. After a few seconds, we pulled apart, and although I wanted to kiss him, badly, I held back. We'd already crossed quite a few scandalous lines, after all. And now that I knew he felt the same way as I did, I didn't think I'd have to wait long for our courtship to make quite a few more things I wanted to do 'acceptable'.

"I suppose we owe your brothers a thank you for getting us to confess our feelings to each other," I said with a sigh. Anthony scoffed.

"Absolutely not. They still tricked us and physically locked us in a room. No matter how happy I am with the results, they deserve some payback."

I grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Anthony led me back over to his desk where the two of us sat shoulder to shoulder, plotting and planning the downfall of his brothers. I had no idea how long they intended to leave us in this room, but every additional minute meant more time to plan revenge.

Happily, it also meant more time with Anthony. And with any luck, the rest of my life would be filled with more time with Anthony.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

361 notes · View notes

rise-deepseamonster · 4 days

Text

#kanthony #kate sharma #kathani sharma #kathani bridgerton #kathani and anthony #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #netflix bridgerton #netflix #the viscount who loved me #viscount bridgerton #enemies to lovers

130 notes · View notes

ladyvthompson · 3 months

Text

new | jonathan bailey photographed by matt winkelmeyer at the bafta tea party in beverly hills (los angeles) on january 13, 2024 ✨️

[pics edited by me using purplebearr filter found on polarr]

#jonathan bailey #bafta #tim laughlin #fellow travelers #anthony bridgerton #viscount bridgerton #bridgerton

240 notes · View notes

fitrahgolden · 7 months

Text

They deserve to be smug and slutty in every scene they get in season 3.

224 notes · View notes

dearabsolutelynoone · 2 days

Text

Anthony, Viscount Bridgerton ♡ Kate, Viscountess Bridgerton

68 notes · View notes

darklinaforever · 6 days

Text

Today I literally saw someone say :

"Romance with a Chubby ? What next ? I predict that Benedict will have an Asian or a trans woman as his next love interest ! No, I'm kidding, I don't watch that crap."

I don't know what annoys me most about this comment. Fatphobia, racism, transphobia ? Or all 3 at the same time ?

A woman of strong build cannot be entitled to a beautiful romance according to this person ? An Asian woman and a trans woman either ? No because clearly, this person's concern is definitely not historical consistency (and those who continue to complain about it look really stupid because the series has very clearly assumed to be an uchronia since season 1), otherwise the description linked to Penelope's weight would not have been part of it.

What's the point of commenting on something like this under the season 3 trailer, frankly ?!

And for the record, yes, I hope Benedict's romantic interest Sophie is played by an Asian woman.

Other than that, I loved the trailer. Seeing Kanthony more in love than ever and Polin finally getting together is going to be an absolute delight.

233 notes · View notes

glitterbiss · 6 days

Text

“Unwillingly Attached”- Anthony Bridgerton x SBF!Danbury Reader pt.1

a/n this is my first ever…”one shot?” Whatever it is. I’m kind of nervous to put this out there, but I realized that every time I get immersed in a character again, I need to release this creativity; my mind is full of scenarios and I never put them into play. So this is a start, and I hope I will continue to put more out. Hope you all enjoy and please leave feedback, I wanna improve my writing. 💙

Summary: It is the night of Lady Danbury’s niece’s 20th birthday. Overstimulated by all the dancing and clutter of people, she takes a breath of fresh air, only for it to be irritatingly suffocating by her constant aggravation

Word count: 2,521

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, innuendo, black!reader, dirty talk, body worship, age gap

Also, I recommend playing Toxic by Midnite String Quartet and How Deep Is Your Love by Kiris Houston as you read cause it really adds to the tone, in my opinion.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Bridgerton characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Lord Bridgerton uttered, his voice carrying the weight of authority. “I understand you wish to have time to yourself, but you must remember, this ball is held in your honor. I ask that you head inside.” His words hung in the air, a command disguised as a polite request. He spoke to her as if he had the right to dictate her actions, a presumption that had become too familiar.

Anthony and Y/N have known each other for years. Seeing that she had been close friends with his sisters, the girls were inseparable. So, when they got in trouble with the eldest Bridgerton, she did as well. Now Y/N did not mind having her ears talked off by the man, but when he tells her what to do and give her orders…that always ruffle her feathers. She still respected him as the head of the house, taking his title into consideration; a few eye rolls at his orders never hurt. Anthony had always known of her doing so, or even sometimes catching her looking at him with a disgusted expression; he ignored them, finding it humorous. The man saw it adorable that she felt irritation from his orders. However, now, a woman grown, she won’t hold her tongue.

The woman let out a deep, frustrated sigh, shutting her eyes as irritation bubbled within her. She turned to face the man sternly, her patience with him wearing thin. Her full brown curls swirled in the gentle breeze, dragging across her back and catching the eye of the viscount. His gaze, as always, drawn to her captivating presence.

The sight of her, his eyes tracing the curls, captivated Lord Bridgerton as they delicately caressed her skin. There was a longing in his gaze, a wish that he could be the one to stay there, to trace the path of her hair as it brushed against her skin. He had often wondered how it’d feel if it were his skin that her hair graced across. He yearned to know the sensation of her curls against him, a desire he kept hidden beneath the veneer of his composed exterior.

“Why do you persist in dictating my every move, as if you possess any authority over my actions, Lord Bridgerton?” She spoke with a conviction that underscored her diminishing regard for the man’s title. The respect she had once held for him had eroded under the constant and unsolicited commands. He had granted her no peace or autonomy, so she no longer cared to show him any deference.

“Well, I-.” He attempted to interject, but she swiftly cut him off with a simple action. Her finger rose, effectively shushing him before he could utter another word. He responded with a sly chuckle, a testament to his amusement at her forceful assertion.

“You are not in a position to control me, Lord Bridgerton. You are not my father. You are not my husband. You will cease this presumptuous behavior.” She warned with a tone that brooked no argument. Her words hung in the air, a clear and unequivocal declaration of her independence.

With that, she turned her back to him, a symbolic farewell to his overbearing presence. She moved gracefully down the steps, her every step a proclamation of her newfound freedom. Her destination was the garden, a sanctuary where she could find solitude and peace, away from the stifling authority of Lord Bridgerton.

Finding himself intrigued by her newfound authority, the man trailed a few steps behind the young woman, his eyes drawn to the sway of her dress as it brushed against her ankles. His mind wandered, painting vivid images of his hand slipping beneath the cool blue silk of her dress, tracing a path upward along her leg. A groan escaped his lips at the thought, the sound more akin to a moan than an expression of frustration.

Lord Bridgerton found himself at a loss, unable to pinpoint exactly when his interest in the girl had intensified. Was it the fact that he had witnessed her transformation from a naive girl into a mature, full-bodied woman? Or was it the subtle defiance she displayed each time she rolled her eyes at his words, a clear indication of her growing impatience with him? There was something incredibly exciting about riling her up, and he found himself fantasizing about doing so at all times, even when he was preoccupied with his responsibilities as a viscount.

“Y/M/N,” the Viscount’s voice stern with authority, invoking her middle name as he always did. It was his unique way of commanding her attention, a tactic that he had adopted over the years. He used it as if it held some magical sway over her, as though uttering it would compel her to pay heed to his words. Or perhaps, he simply enjoyed the privilege of being the only person who could address her in this manner.

A few feet behind her, he stood his ground, his eyes locked onto her retreating figure. He expected her to halt at the sound of his voice, but she didn’t. A sigh of resignation escaped his lips as he watched her continue. He knew her all too well. With hurried steps, he caught up with her, his hand reaching out, gently grabbing her elbow. His fingers pressed into her skin, pulling her closer.

Suddenly, they were chest to chest, their faces inches apart. His warm breath mingled visibly with hers in the cold air. Confusion and determination mirrored in their eyes as they held each other’s gaze. His eyes slowly drifted down to her lips, curiosity tugging at his heartstrings. He wondered how they would feel against his own. His mind was a whirlpool of questions. ‘If I kiss her, would she kiss back?’ His gaze snapped back to her eyes, searching for answers.

“I do have the right,” he spoke slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I am a gentleman. I worry for your safety just as I worry for my sisters. You are my responsibility, just as they are.” His eyes found hers once again, his breath hitching as he let his hand run down her arm. The urge to lean in and press his lips upon hers was overpowering, but he resisted. Her eyes scanned his face, taking in his longing expression. Her heart pounded in her chest, and a sense of confusion swept over her. Why was she not pulling away? Why did this situation affect her so much? And why did she feel a sudden urge to kiss him?

“Anthony,” his name escaped her lips in a whisper before she could stop herself. His firm response, “Go. In. Side.” The man’s tongue laced with desperation, a warning to both her and himself. He desired to provoke her once more, yearning for her reaction. Yet, as much as he was fully aware of the dangerous path they were treading, he was also on the brink of losing his restraint.

And so, they stood there, in the tranquil garden, lost in each other’s presence, the world around them fading into insignificance. Desperation apparent in both of their gazes. “You do not listen.” She responded, feverishly desiring for his reaction as she stood her ground.

Despite the fact that Y/N found the lord intolerable, a revolting presence in her life, she couldn’t help but be aware of his physical presence; his determined gaze, the teasing smirk that would often grace his lips, the warmth and strength that radiated from his hands each time they dared to touch her body. Even though to an outsider, their interactions might have seemed normal, both of them found their thoughts consumed by these moments as they lay awake before sleep.

“Why do I seem to provoke such anger within you?” He questioned, his voice barely above a whisper, as his fingers traced a path from her arm down to her waist, finding a comfortable resting place on her hips. Inside his mind, a battle waged. He desperately fought against his impulses, but his resolve was weakening. The proximity of her body, the sweet aroma of coca butter that clung to her skin, a scent that was rich, tantalizing, and utterly irresistible, was causing a hunger to stir within him. A hunger laced with lust. To make matters worse, the soft glow of the moonlight seemed to highlight every curve of her body, making her skin shimmer enticingly. ‘Am I being a fool?’ He silently questioned his own sanity.

His gentle caresses elicited a soft moan from her lips, a sound she detested because it was a clear indication that her body was willingly succumbing to his touch. The temptation was winning. It was even more frustrating for her to know that he felt the same. That he was just as affected by her as she was by him. She wasn’t the only one grappling with dangerous thoughts. Yet she chose to continue this game of tension. “You vex me, Anthony.” She admitted, her voice barely audible as her lips brushed against his. “To the point where my mood shifts dramatically the moment you step into the room. It’s infuriating.” Her words ended with a soft sigh. Her hand found its way to his chest. She tried to push him away, to create some distance between them, but felt an inexplicable urge to keep touching him.

His response to her words was a low groan, a sound that clearly indicated his satisfaction at knowing he could affect her so deeply. “You have become such a source of torment for me, Y/M/N. Why do you fill my mind with such vulgar thoughts?” His words were out before he could stop them, not that he cared much in the moment, carried away as he was by the intense emotions.

Her breath became slow and heavy, her eyes closing as she allowed her mind to conjure up various inappropriate scenarios, her head tilting back subconsciously to feel his breath against her neck. He drew in a sharp breath as he watched the moonlight play on her exposed neck. Her gold and diamond jewelry sparkled in the soft light, seeming to dare him to stake his claim. He leaned in, inhaling her scent deeply before pressing his lips gently against her throat, moving to the side of her neck, nipping at the skin.

Y/N’s hand held onto Anthony’s coat, her nails digging into the material as his warm tongue tasted her skin. Her thoughts were a whirlwind. ‘What if someone catches us?’ The risk only added to her excitement. His hand slowly moved up her sides to her chest, his thumb beneath her breast, holding her there as he nipped at her neck. “I think of you before I fall asleep,” he murmured into her ear. “I wonder if you’re a whiner, if you beg. Do you enjoy being told sinful things while being pleasured?” She stood there, intoxicated by his words, as she held onto his shoulder with one hand while the other played with his hair. “It keeps me up all night,” he admitted.

“Lord Bridgerton, we must stop this,” she warned, her voice shaky and not very convincing as she responded to his kisses, which had now moved from her neck down to her breast, just above her bodice. He seemed to ignore her words. No one would see them, bodies hidden behind the large fountain; he was far too entranced to give up on what had been a mere fantasy until now. “You are so invigorating,” he replied, scattering kisses up her jaw before claiming her lips with his own.

The instant their lips met in a fervent connection, a realization dawned upon them both; this encounter was going to become a complicated affair. Anthony, caught in the heat of the moment, wasted not a second. He wound his arms around her slender waist, pulling her lithe body into the solid strength of his own. The taste of her plump lips ignited his senses, sending him spiraling into a euphoric haze. She was his intoxicant, his addiction, and he was helplessly ensnared.

Y/N’s hand found a resting place on the warm expanse of his neck, her delicate fingers tracing patterns on his flushed skin as she kissed him with a hunger she didn't understand. She often found herself exasperated with the lord, especially his orders. Yet, as she delved deeper into the intoxicating kiss, she comprehended that perhaps this inexplicable frustration was born out of a hidden desire for him.

Their tongues intertwined in a passionate dance for supremacy, their breaths coming out in ragged gasps as the intensity of their kisses drained them of air. Yet, the lack of oxygen didn't deter them. Their mouths continued to hungrily devour each other, the sound of muffled grunts and moans filling the air, punctuated by the occasional silence. Anthony found himself leaning in for more, more of her sweet taste, more of her intoxicating scent. Meanwhile, Y/N held him in place by gripping his hair, the moon silently bearing witness to their fervor.

His hand slipped from her waist, the rough skin of his fingers gathering up the material of her dress. As he pulled and collected the fabric with his other hand, it bunched up around her thighs. His palm traced a path on her smooth skin, gentle and tender, causing her to shiver under his touch. Lifting her leg from the ground, he hooked it around his hip, calling out her name in a voice that was as breathless as it was low.

Engulfed in a cloud of lust, Y/N barely registered the sound of his voice, the deep, strong, but gentle timbre sending shivers down her spine. A sensation started to bubble up within her, threatening to consume her completely.

Suddenly, the echo of a sharp gasp pierced the silent night. “Oh!” Startled, they both broke away from their passionate tryst to confront the intruder. Standing there, eyes wide with shock, was Daphne. “I’m so sorry,” she stammered, spinning on her heels to make a hasty retreat back towards the ball. Anthony, anxious about his sister's unexpected arrival, hastily set Y/N's leg back on the ground and rushed after Daphne, eager to provide an explanation. His primary concern was to prevent any animosity from developing between Daphne and Y/N.

Left alone, Y/N was haunted by guilt, her mind swimming with the weight of having kissed her friend's brother. She hastily adjusted her dress, her hand instinctively flying to cover her still tingling lips. Panic set in as her eyes scanned the surroundings, the reality of her actions hitting her full force. She couldn't believe she had kissed him, and the question that echoed in her mind was, "What is wrong with me?" She pondered if she would ever be forgiven. Now that she had recognized her feelings for him, would she be able to let them go? She didn't want her friendship with the girls to end because of this.

Y/N decided then and there, from that moment on, she was going to stay as far away from Lord Bridgerton as possible.

#anthony bridgerton x reader #x black!reader #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #viscount bridgerton #best friends brother #Spotify #getting caught #older man younger woman

77 notes · View notes

down-bad-bridgerton · 16 days

Text

Messy Masquerade pt 1.

The season is opening with a masquerade ball, and Anthony Bridgerton is looking for... just about anyone who wasn't on the list of names provided by his mother.

*~*

I lingered at the edge of the ballroom, my hands nervously shifting the mask concealing my face. I did not know what about the masquerade ball set my heart aflutter. It was certainly an unconventional opening to a season, but leave it to Lady Danbury to shake things up.

I knew my father would likely disapprove of my wallflower-like behavior, it was a frequent topic of discussion. I did not enjoy exchanging pleasantries with bachelors, it yielded no true insight into his character or my own.

I would much rather observe. One could tell so much about a man merely by seeing his expression when he ended a conversation, a perspective I could not take advantage of when I was the one he was conversing with.

I pursed my lips as I realized the benefit of the masks may be that my notably absent chaperone may have a more difficult time locating me during his check ins. He did not abandon me completely at such events, but he would certainly rather talk to the other men present rather than watch my every move.

He would often steer me in his preferred directions, but I was left to my own devices to follow up on his instruction.

I craned my neck to look over the crowd, deciding a glass of champagne to lighten my mood would be just the thing. Giving up on the notion of seeing anything over the sea of heads, I began to make my way around the room. I clung close to edges, knowing I would inevitably run into a table or server holding a tray of flutes.

As I slipped behind an older couple having a spirited but hushed argument, I began to feel a strange chill snake its way up my spine.

“Absolutely not!” The husband said, shaking his head as he stepped back to put some distance between him and his wife. I had to leap back to avoid colliding with him.

“Our Matilda is a lovely girl, if Viscount Bridgerton truly intends to choose his bride-” the wife argued in a rushed and rage filled tone. I stepped around them, eager to get myself out of earshot.

I glanced around, on edge as I hurried away from the arguing couple. I had the oddest sense someone was watching me.

I was making slow progress in my journey, I was certainly not the only one seeking to remain on the outskirts of tonight’s activities. As I waited patiently for a slow moving group of girls to rearrange themselves, I looked up and locked eyes with a man working his way through the throng closer to the dance floor.

While he too wore a mask, his thick, neatly styled hair was a dead give away; he was a Bridgerton. I paused, hovering to watch as he approached to determine which Bridgerton was working his way towards me. As he drew nearer, his height became more apparent and I surmised it must be the Viscount himself.

Curiosity satisfied, I turned to continue on my way, but something caught my eye. Was he… Looking at me?

I turned back, startled to see him walking briskly in my direction. I found myself rooted to the spot, a storm of curiosity and dread brewing in my belly. This must be the work of Violet Bridgerton, I realized. She certainly had a way of spotting a wallflower, I had witnessed her sending Colin off to escort Penelope Featherington to the dance floor on multiple occasions.

I did not have time to follow that thought any further, I forced my thoughts to the back of my mind, mustering the most serene smile I could.

“Good evening.” He greeted me, wearing a polite smile.

“Good evening, Viscount Bridgerton.” I dipped my head graciously, trying my hardest to keep my smile from growing into a terribly unbecoming smirk as I saw his eyes widen behind the mask.

“My reputation precedes me, it seems.” He replied, clearly amused. He gestured to his mask flippantly. “This appears rather pointless.”

“Unfortunately so, in your case.” I replied, nodding my agreement. “Mine, however, seems to serve its intended purpose.”

“So will you tell me your name?” He asked. I felt a pang, I had not spoken to the Viscount often, but my mother had been good friends with his before her passing and I had thought he might recognize me from my visits to his sisters. I pursed my lips, mulling over my options before responding.

“Well that would ruin the fun, would it not?” I said in a hushed voice. My eyebrows rose beneath my mask, before I realized he could not see that part of my face. I flicked open my fan and fanned myself a few times, hoping it would dispel the heat in my cheeks.

“Very well, I shall respect your privacy.” He said, nodding. He glanced down at his shoes, shifting his weight before returning his piercing dark gaze to me. “If you will not tell me your name, will you at least grant me a dance?”

My lips parted, but no sound came out. I had suspected that was his goal, but his request still took me aback.

“I would be delighted, my Lord.” I said, knowing better than to turn a man down. Folding my fan, I turned to the young ladies next to me. Before I could even ask, a blonde girl who I only knew by her family name was extending her hand to take my fan. We exchanged smiles as I placed my folded fan into her palm and turned back to see Lord Bridgerton extending his hand to me.

I placed my hand in his, allowing him to lead me toward the dance floor. My heart was hammering in my chest, I did not think I was a bad dancer, but I had not had much practice and I had admittedly neglected to maintain my skill during the off season. I closed my eyes for a brief moment as he led me through the crowd, glad that if I humiliated myself hopefully the ton would not recognize me immediately.

We took our positions, standing opposite one another as couples around us took their places and others cleared from the dance floor. I looked back to Anthony, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of me when I saw his gaze fixed on me. He averted his gaze as soon as our eyes locked.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I was interrupted by orchestra abruptly beginning to play their next song. We fell into rhythm immediately, holding our palms up with mere inches between them and beginning to rotate around one another.

“Is this your first season?” He asked as he gracefully swapped hands, turning on the spot and tucking his other arm behind his back. I mirrored him, changing directions as gracefully as I could.

“No, it is my second.” I answered, hoping he could not tell how hard I was focusing on the placement of each step.

“Really?” He seemed surprised. “Why is that?”

“I had suitors, no proposals.” I said tensely, tensing as the music grew more intense and he closed the distance between them. They both lifted their hands, they did not quite touch, they were close enough that their gloved fingers brushed but their palms did not touch. They continued their slow rotation, there was no where to look now but the others face.

“I did not mean to offend.” He said hastily. “I just find it surprising.”

“We found my prospects wanting.” I replied, struggling to keep the bite from my tone. He smiled in amusement.

“I can certainly understand why, it was a struggle to find a suitable match for my sister in the pool of bachelors from last season.” He said with a mock shudder. I blinked in surprise, it was not common for a gentleman to speak poorly of his peers (unless of course, they were vying for the same hand.)

The music picked up pace, and we stepped together effortlessly. He grabbed my hand and took my waist in one fluid movement, and we began to step to the rhythm of the music in harmony.

“Rumor has it you intend to find a wife this season.” she said casually, enjoying the exasperated look on his face as his shoulder slumped beneath her hand.

“Ah, my mother has been effective in getting the word out.” He sighed. “Do not remind me, please. My feet are sore from her last recommendation.”

“So I did make the list.” I said triumphantly, my smirk getting the best of me.

Anthony did not answer, but he let out a hearty laugh. My smirk fell quickly, my heart sinking. Was I truly so low in rank that it was laughable?

“My Mother’s list is to blame for the attacks on my feet.” He said, shaking his head and chuckling. “If you are wondering if I approached you on her behest, I did not.”

“Oh.” I said lamely, looking down. My cheeks were flushed, and I did not know what to say or make of what he’d said. We continued to move in sync, while I wished the ground would swallow me up.

“Tell me, Miss.” he said suddenly, clearly wanting to keep the conversation going. I looked up, waiting for him to finish his thought. “What are you looking for in a match?”

“Someone kind.” I blurted out. I quickly realized that seemed too simple, although it was the truth. I hastened to elaborate. “Someone compassionate, gentle… Someone I might consider a friend.”

“That is all?” He pressed, surprised.

“I am a young lady in my second season.” I reminded him patiently. “I dare not get my hopes too high.”

“That is a shame.” He said, his expression grim. “But I understand.”

I was spared having to come up with a response by the song coming to an end. We looked to one another, and then pulled apart.

“Thank you, my Lord.” I said, dropping into a curtsy.

“Please, call me Anthony.” He said, waving away my formalities.

“Best of luck for the season. Enjoy your evening.” I said, offering him a polite smile as I turned to make my way off the dance floor.

“Wait! You did not give me your name.” He called after me, he took a few steps toward me, but stopped in his tracks as I looked back over my shoulder.

“Goodnight!” I called over my shoulder, smiling to myself as I picked up my skirts to avoid tripping. I hurried into the crowd, slipping in between the other guests, putting plenty of distance between Lord Bridgerton and myself. It was certainly not my most graceful interaction at a ball, but I was spared further humiliation by anonymity.

I heard my name being called, and turned to see my father approaching from the direction of the terrace. I moved to meet him, the smell of whiskey and cigar smoke radiating off of him.

“Have you had any luck?” He asked gruffly, his eyes bloodshot from the drink.

I simply shook my head, reaching out to steady him as he staggered. “Not yet, how has your evening been?”

“Productive. I hear Lord Lumley has a boy around your age…..” He said, looping my arm with his as he wobbled his way towards the refreshment table. I hummed, feigning my interest as I listened to his drunken ramblings to close the evening.

#reader insert #x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #netflix #viscount bridgerton #regency era

54 notes · View notes