#anthony bridgerton blurb

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

hi! i saw your request post, and can i request a gender neutral anthony story in which the reader and anthony hate each other, but reader and benedict are best friends?

Pride Before The Fall (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader)

AN: Thank you for reading my post before you sent this in! I hope you like what I've written. I left the ending kinda vague since you didn't specify if you wanted a resolution - which I think I'd be down for writing over a series of mini blurbs (rather than a full on fic) like something people can send asks in and I respond with a blurb type. Let me know if that's something you'd be interested in!

Content Warnings: Reader is gender neutral, no use of Y/N

Masterlist // Read Before Requesting

The park was a hotspot for the daytime proceedings of every season. Families promenading together, arranged around picnic blankets beneath canopies, young couples awkwardly finding their feet through small talk whilst being stalked by a member of their staff who would record all said to memory then regurgitate it to the rest of the household staff once they’d returned home. Sunshine pleasant enough to be basked in, flower perfuming the air with romance, ducks gliding across the lake, it was ever bubbling with the life of society.

It was precisely why Anthony had chosen to take a turn about the lake with Miss Harper. He maintained a brisk pace with his feet and his mouth, asking many questions to decide whether to rule her out of his mission to find his Viscountess. On paper, she seemed ideal: a cellist who spoke French and was well-versed with a waltz. However the sentences were strung together in a strained sense and Anthony found himself already deciding who he would speak to next.

As he and his walking partner drew towards his family, he spied – in the near distance – you. His stride staggered a tad before he negotiated with himself to carry on forwards. His gaze was set on you, speaking with Benedict, though from this distance, Anthony could not tell. Benedict withdrew his sketchpad from behind his back and held it up. You grabbed for it, but he held it just out of reach, walking backwards and teasing you as you bounded after him until you both reached the Bridgerton picnic.

Side by side, you and Benedict always had been bosom buddies. You knew about Benedict’s penchant for art before he told anyone in his family. It was this relationship that irked Anthony so.  

Anthony hastily bid Miss Harper goodbye then, with a quick adjustment of his coat, he propelled himself back to his family.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted, intending for it to be addressing everyone present.

However his stare was concentrated on you and your bowed head, leaning over Benedict’s sketch book. When you finally noticed you were being spoken to by someone who was not your best friend, you did not rise to courtesy, only offering a blank faced “Good afternoon, my lord” before returning to your conversation with Benedict. Anthony did his best to hide his disdain.

“I take it Miss Harper was not to your standards?” Benedict probed, snapping his book closed upon realising that Anthony was not leaving them alone. Before Anthony could retort, he and Benedict caught your confused expression, your nose adorably wrinkled with your brow.

Touching your hand as if delivering grave news, Benedict spoke sombrely, “Haven’t you heard? Dearest Anthony is seeking out a wife.”

You took a second, then you let out a sardonic huff: “God help her.”

Pride flared up, Anthony countered, “You still clinging to my brother’s arm as tightly as you do to spending your life alone?”

“Better alone than in your company!” That was what made you stand and leave with the last word being a quick farewell to the Bridgerton family (with your back to Anthony).

Benedict sighed loudly, pushing himself up, “Why’d you have to do that? Now I’ll have to listen to them ranting about you again.”

Turning his head to follow your retreating form, Anthony asked with his voice catching in his throat, “They talk about me?”

“Every time you so much as breathe in their direction. I swear I’ve not seen a couple so concerned with each and unmarried.”

With a pat on his brother’s shoulders, Benedict jogged after you, to continue delighting in your company. Anthony let out a haughty scoff.

“They’re already gone, brother,” remarked Eloise, not taking an eye off her book.

So Anthony planted himself in a chair, his back rigid, and pretended to making notes on his next potential partner.

Regret resumed digging its grave in his stomach as he saw you link arms with Benedict and begin strolling along the dirt path. It was far too late to curate any sense of kinship with you; it had been too late for a while. But he’d rather suffer in his emotions in silence and still get those tongue lashings from you than admit defeat and confess his affections for you only to receive your malicious delight and eternal humiliation.

Little did he know that, across the lake, as you were finally allowing Benedict room to breathe and discuss his latest painting, you let Anthony linger in the corner of your eye with a prayer of thanks for your defensiveness, for you would not know what to do if you had not left sooner – lest Anthony, the beholder of your heart, say anything more to break it.

[lisacameron99]

blurb/preview from the series i’m writing about anthony x oc (polly featherington)

summary: kate dies in a tragic accident and anthony needs help caring for his two children, who better to help than his and kate’s best friend polly?

warnings: major character death, angst, mad anthony, sad anthony, kids, stereotypical gender roles for early 1800s in england

“would you for one second just listen to me?” i screamed to anthony.

“i cannot! my wife is dead, you and the rest of the ton expect me to just move on? i won’t do it. i have children to attend to, who need a father. i have responsibilities as viscount to run the home. i do not expect you to understand!”

“anthony im not expecting anything from you. im asking that you let me help you.”

“and how do you suppose we do that, huh? how, pray tell, polly, do you suppose we do that?”

“your children need caring for.” i said quietly. “and it’s not that you’re not doing a good job.” i added quickly before he could yell at me again. “but they need constant care. they are 1 month old and 2 year old. you are right, you have responsibilities as viscount and i respect and honor that, my lord. but let me help you with the children.”

anthony thought for a moment before nodding.

“but you must live at the house. they need it to be constant, so you must be there when they need you.”

fin. more to come.

[alyswritings]

Hey!!! I love your writing so much!! I was hoping you could write an Anthony x daughter!reader where they have weekly daddy daughter dates since Anthony is super busy and kind of has to be a father to his younger siblings as well, so he wants her to know she is special and not forgotten in all the shuffle. Maybe they get super dressed up and go to Gunther's for ice cream and just super fluffy!? Thank you in advance!! 💞💞💞

Anthony hears a knock on the door to his office.

"Come in." He calls out. The door opens, Y/N peeking in. She walks in and shuts the door behind her. "Hello, love."

"Hi." Y/N walks over, standing next to him.

"Do you need something?" Anthony asks, looking at her.

"We're still going out on Saturday, right?" Y/N asks.

"Yes, of course. Do I ever miss it?" Anthony questions.

"No." Y/N shakes her head.

"Exactly. So, on Saturday, we will be up and ready to go. Promise." Anthony kisses her forehead.

- - -

Anthony is waiting at the bottom of the stairs for Y/N. He hears running and knows it's her, looking up as she carefully races down the stairs. She jumps onto the main floor and grins up at him.

"You look magnificent, darling." Anthony smiles and she giggles.

"Thank you." She says, holding his hand.

- - -

Y/N is sitting at their table and Anthony walks over with the ice cream. He sets the large bowl in the middle.

"There we go." He says. Y/N grins at the sweet treat, grabbing her spoon and digging in. Anthony eats some ice cream, but goes at a slower pace so that Y/N can get whatever she wants.

"I love Saturdays." Y/N grins.

"As do I, dearest." Anthony softly smiles.

After eating ice cream, the two leave and take a walk through the park, Y/N swinging their hands back and forth.

"I have a question." Y/N says.

"Ask away." Anthony says.

"Why do you always spend Saturdays with me? You don't have days with any of your siblings. You say you raise them too." Y/N says.

"Well, I do -- and did -- but between them and work and-- and my mother insisting I marry." He mutters the last part, annoyance in his voice making Y/N giggle. "I'm just making sure you know that I'm never too busy for you, and I love you. You deserve time with me without me distracted by others things."

"I love you too." Y/N says.

[khioneee]

könig was a gentleman, no doubt about it. he’d open your jars without hesitation, offer you his jacket the moment you shivered, and god forbid you try to open a door—he’d sooner throw himself in front of a moving car than let you lift a finger. polite, chivalrous, and protective to the point of obsession.

könig was a gentleman.

but in bed, that facade shattered. in bed, könig was all man—fierce, raw, and possessive.

“mine,” he growled low in your ear, the word vibrating through you like a command. his voice dripped with ownership, each syllable leaving no room for argument. he wasn’t just saying it; he was declaring it, as if by the act alone, he had carved his name into your very soul.

and you would have denied it—if it weren’t true. no one else would ever fit where he’d been. no one else would ever reach where he’s been. not after him. you knew it, and he knew it. there was no going back now. you’re ruined for anyone else. so, as far as you were concerned, he better be planning to stay—because no one but könig could ever fill the void he left behind.

his cock twitched in response, like it was already considering going again, jerking slightly as you clenched around him. a warm trickle of his seed slipped from you, and the sight seemed to set him off all over again.

he grabbed your chin, rough and unrelenting, turning your face to meet his gaze. his eyes were dark and heavy with desire, an unquenchable hunger simmering beneath the surface.

“tell me it’s mine, maus,” he snarled, his voice sharp and desperate, like the words themselves could tether you to him forever.

and you knew—knew there was only one answer you could give, one that would satisfy the man hovering over you, his body tense with need and ownership.

“it’s yours,” you whispered breathlessly. “it’s always been yours.”

his lips curled into a satisfied, feral grin as if your words were the final piece to a puzzle he had already solved. there was no gentleness left in him now—only a man who knew he had claimed what was his.

[fiction-is-life]

🥵 Makes me want to take up yoga!

Hello, congratulations once again on hitting 1.5K! can I ask for a mini Drabble with…

“You’re a lot more flexible than I thought.”

And for Anthony please 💙

Hi Nonny!

Thank you! Here you go. Bit of modern AU Anthony this time. I hope you enjoy this! 😁🧡🧡

Also my longest yet, I need to rein it in closer to 250 words again lol

Under cut cos filth.

“You’re a lot more flexible than I thought,” his bemused voice startles you out of your tricky yoga pose. You know he is joking. And you can tell instantly what he is after right now.

“It's rude to interrupt a yoga session,” you shoot back.

“Apologies, I shall go back to silently spectating,” Anthony winks as he leans against the doorframe, gesturing for you to continue.

“It's even ruder to watch. You should participate,” you challenge, turning away but shooting him a loaded look over your shoulder.

You feel his heavy gaze on your bottom in your fitted yoga pants as you intentionally bend over into Downward Facing Dog.

“I can definitely think of better uses of your body in that position,” his tone unmistakable.

“Promises, promises,” you sigh theatrically as you push down onto the mat into Cobra Pose.

He stalks over suddenly, and you squeal as he spanks your left butt cheek hard. Your skin tingles as he straddles you and surges his cock between the cleft of your bottom, the hardness unmistakable even through the expensive jeans he wears.

“I will fuck you right here. I don't care about that damn window,” he warns, his body now covering your back, teeth on the nape of your neck as he references the floor-to-ceiling glass to your left.

“Go ahead, the neighbours are annoying me anyway,” you smirk and giggle triumphantly as he grasps your waistband and yanks your bottoms down to your knees in one impressive move.

“No underwear,” he gusts, impressed.

“I can't run the risk of VPL,” your jest turns into a moan as his fingers quest between your folds from behind.

“Hmmm, now what was that new position you were talking about last night?” he queries as you hear the zip on his jeans.

“Where I put my legs behind my ears?” you pant then moan loudly as he spears deep into your body, trapping your legs closed between his thighs.

“That's the one,” he confirms, “I think we should definitely try that one,” he adds casually.

“I don't do yoga just for new sex positions, you know,” you pout over your shoulder.

“And yet I hear no complaints,” he volleys back with a raised eyebrow, holding still buried inside you.

“Shut up and fuck me,” you groan in defeat.

“Happily,” he chuckles and starts to move in earnest. You are soon screaming into your yoga mat.

[imthebadguyyy]

enchanted.

pairing • anthony bridgerton x reader

fandom • bridgerton

synopsis • you and anthony don't need words to converse.

an • mildly inspired by my coke studio binging because they're bloody amazing.

maybe it was a gift. or a lucky connection. whatever it was, you were glad it existed.

being married to a viscount meant that society had expectations. graceful, poised, calm, beautiful, intelligent. and sometimes, just sometimes, thinks could get a little overwhelming. it was perhaps your hundredth ball this season. you had decided to assist anthony in his quest to marry daphne off to someone he deemed proper enough to marry his sister. of course, it took some severe looks from you for him to reluctantly agree to let daphne actually dance with interested suitors.

having managed to convince your husband to come away for a dance (something the dowager viscountess had been most grateful for, for it meant her eldest son was away while daphne continued her quest to find a husband)

but of course it would never be that simple.

anthony bridgerton was a very, very attractive man, and every single lady in the ton new it. you'd think that his marriage to another woman would have stopped the batting eyelashes and sultry gazes, but much to your chagrin, they didn't.

if anything, they increased. hushed voices greeted you at every turn, mamas looking at you with contempt and disfavour. you were the woman who had deprived their daughters of the title of viscountess.

you could feel their gazes burning holes in the silky material of your blue dress, matching anthony's waist coat and cravat. his hands rested lightly on your waist, and interlaced with your fingers. he couldnt believe he was married to a woman like you, a woman so sweet and kind and loving and smart.

oblivious to the vicious whispers, he leaned in close to press a kiss to your forehead, watching the way you tensed and your eyebrow creased.

"is everything alright my darling?" he asked, gently squeezing your waist.

a few feet away, lady cowper leaned around to whisper something into another lady's ears, a contemptuous smile playing on her lips, cruel eyes boring into yours.

anthony caught the way your eyes looked down after meeting lady cowper's, and the first glimmer of tears in your eyes.

he hated it.

he hated how even thought he was married to the woman he loved, the ton thought it acceptable to gossip and chatter about his marriage and make his beloved feel like she was worthless.

he was well aware of how much the comments and whispers hurt you, and that in turn hurt him.

gently, he reached up to caress your cheek, looking into your eyes.

your soft gaze met his warm, familiar one. it was safe, familial and homely.

i love you, he said, with the gentle touch of his hands. i adore you, he said, with the soft caress of your cheek. i need you, he said, with the burning passion in his eyes. i care for you, he said, with the grip on the blue silk that adorned your body.

i am yours, he said, when his lips descended upon your temple, tracing up to your forehead and then down to your nose, before pressing against the corner of your lips.

a public display of affection was a rarity for anyone, especially if it was a viscount. but anthony didn't care.

he was yours and you were his.

and if it took kissing you (something he enjoyed very much) to convince the vile ladies that he was truly enamoured with his amore, then he would gladly do it.

and so he pressed his lips to yours, sweet and plump, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from the old couple next to the both of you.

relaxing, you leaned into his touch ever so slightly before pulling back.

thank you, you said to him with the glimmer in your eyes. i love you, you said to him with the gentle pattern you were tracing on his cufflinks.

you didn't need to tell anthony what was troubling you.

he always knew.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

HI OMG IM SO SORRY FOR NOT WRITING FOR SO LONG SO HERES JUST A TEENSY TINY LITTLE SNEAK PEAK OF A FIC IM GONNA POST SOON THAT ALSO WORKS AS A BLURB and I'm so sorry for being MIA for so long 😭

any feedback, comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated ♥️ much love and happy reading!!

TAGS -:

bridgerton - @freyathehuntress

everything - @roslastyles420

to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a dm 🥰

[maya-custodios-dionach]

Someone in discord asked me for Penthony must-reads, and I wanted to share my list here too for new Penthony shippers.

Aside from everything in ynnej2198's penthony catalogue:

For those who don't mind the slowest of burns: Hear Our Hearts Speak by Molly_Jae [INCOMPLETE 33/40]

For beauty and the beast vibes: Scarred by JoyouslyChatty526 [COMPLETE]

What if Penelope was the Diamond in s2: Long Story Short (it was a bad time) by fade_by_starlight [COMPLETE]

Colin ships Penthony after failed courtship with Penelope (ft. Cat parents Penthony): Could It Be by IrishRose30 [TEMPORARY HAITUS DUE TO NEWBORN Slowly coming off hiatus 28/?]

Modern fake dating au: Love Me Like You Do by IrishRose30 [COMPLETE]

Modern era texting au that WILL make you laugh bc of the sheer chaotic hilarity of the bridgerton sibling gc: 7 Years of Us (via Text) by Burtonbridge04 [COMPLETE]

Amnesiac Penelope AU: Remembrance by Enaganda [COMPLETE]

Marriage of Convenience for Anthony in order to keep Sienna as a mistress, but we instead the fic earns its Jealous Anthony Bridgerton tag when Debling comes into the picture: Perfect for the role by LilithAfrodite04 [COMPLETE]

Anthony marries Penelope so that she won't be forced to marry a probably impotent 70yo and they fall in love 🥰🥰🥰: When a Rake Saves a Wallflower by Amberpoconuts [COMPLETE 29/29]

Feel free to add more! 🩷🩷🩷

[itscherrylipsforme]

Benedict Bridgerton with wife reader. Benedict was protective of his children and wife who was constantly testing his patience and put him over the edge. She wondered if he would be dead/greying before knew she was pregnant (again!) if he continues to act like this. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks!! :))

Mama's boy: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!wife!reader

Blurb. Thanks for the ask dear, hope you enjoy it 🫶🏼

Masterlist Characters I write for

"Y/n! Lennox! Please, don't you dare!"

Your husband shouts loud enough to be heard by the whole tone, but not enough to stop you and your adventurous four-year-old son from climbing to the highest branches of an old oak in the Aubrey Hall gardens. So he cannot do anything but admire the scene unfolding in front of him, the laughs of the two people he loves and overcares most in the world echoing in his family's Summer residence.

The delicate cloth of your gown threatens to tear whenever it's caressed by the limbs. He could still hear Anthony's incredulous voice when he informed about his resolution to court you.

"Miss l/n, brother? Are you certain? She has quite the daring streak, or so the rumours say" Just a serious gaze coming from Viscountess Kate Bridgerton was the only thing needed to confirm his approval.

That was probably why he had been drawn to you in the first place. And do not mislead my words, he was glad his older brother had been correct.

"Ben, my dear, join us! The view is worthy of one of your paintings!"

Well, most of the time at least. But not when you were too reckless without a reason. What would any other sane gentleman when the ones he holds closer to his heart are far from his protection? There is no other option but worry to death, at least not for him.

"You two will be the dead to me, darling" He laughs reluctantly while leaning into the trunk. "He takes after you" His adoring gaze know shifts to Lennox.

The living proof of your love for each other. The light of his nights. But also the little boy who troubles him too much in times like these. You and your son exchange a mischievous glance and finally decide to listen to him and climb down in order to give him a break.

"Do not worry, I am sure that the next one will be more like his father. Caring, artistic gentle..." You smile as you place your head on his shoulder, pleased to your husband's shocked expression.

"The next one? y/n, is there something I must know?"

But no words are needed when you place his gentle palm over your belly. No explanation, just pure love and understanding.

"I am going to be an older brother, dada!" Lennox jumps into his father's arms and joins the familiar embrace which soon will hold another kid.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

[fiction-is-life]

This is so cute!!! 😍

Can u do a Bridgerton Anthony daughter where she’s like 3 and she’s autistic and doesn’t like sleeping by herself or doing anything by herself really so they have a routine of doing everything together but when kate comes around anthony tries to get her to do things herself but she throws a fit and cry’s and kate is like “don’t change your routine, you can just add me in it” and they make a routine with all three of them and it takes some time for reader to share Anthony with kate.

This Could Work

Kate Sharma x Anthony Bridgerton x Daughter!Reader

A/N- So many requests in one day thank you, everyone! 

Warnings- Meltdowns

Pronouns- She/Her

Word Count- 417

Summary- Refer to ask :)

Papa bends down to my height and gestures to the woman beside him, “Y/N I would like you to meet Kate Sharma.”

I peek around at Papa but try to hide behind him still. Kate smiles at me and reaches her hand out to mine, “It is nice to meet you Y/N.”

I back up slightly and smile back I try to squint my eyes to make my smile more natural but I am worried it looks even more forced. Kate looks at papa and he says, “ She takes a while to warm up to people she much prefers to talk about horses. Isn’t that right Y/N”

I nod aggressively which makes Kates's smile brighten, “I actually ride horses frequently.. even by myself sometimes.” She says whispering the last part.

I smile at Kate and this time it feels much more natural. That is until Papa interrupts “ Kate and I will be spending more time together so that means our routine will be changing.”

My smile is wiped off my face and I can feel my cheeks start to burn. “What do you mean by that,” or at least that’s what I try to say but my mouth betrays me and it comes out broken and I stutter which just makes me more upset.

I start to shake my head and shut my eyes tight. This is not right our schedule has never changed why is some lady ruining our schedule? It does not make sense! Papa gently places his hand on mine which makes me open my eyes and look at my hands.

“Change is okay Y/N I will always be there for you, no matter what,” Papa says intensely but I avoid his gaze.

I squint my eyes again and start listing our daily schedule over and over again.

Kate tries to interrupt my listing but I continue the routine even though I am running out of breath. Kate manages to squeeze in what she was going to say when I finally gasp for air.

“Do not change your schedule for me! How about you just add me to your schedule.” Kate says and I stare at her taking in her pretty smile.

I take a deep breath to soothe myself and nod, “That could work.”

Father’s mouth morphs into a huge grin and pulls us all into a deep hug. I am usually not one for hugs but the deep pressure of this one is very nice. Maybe this could work.

[cerisereids]

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

characters i write for

(i no longer take requests, sorry!)

criminal minds: aaron hotchner, spencer reid, derek morgan, emily prentiss, luke alvez

stranger things: eddie munson, steve harrington, robin buckley, nancy wheeler

tasm: peter parker (andrew garfield’s peter only)

bridgerton: benedict, anthony, colin, kate

𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗱

some bunny special- dad!spencer x fem!reader

please don’t have somebody waiting on you- s1!spencer x bau!reader

lovely to sit between comfort and chaos, part 1- spencer reid x fem!reader

part 2

in the mirror of your eyes, my love, my life- young dad!spencer reid x bau!mom!reader

is it that sweet? i guess so!- later seasons!spencer reid x plus size!liason!reader

time makes you bolder, children get older- young dad!spencer reid x bau!mom!reader

blurbs found under the tag- belle’s blurbs s.r.

𝗮𝗮𝗿𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗻𝗲𝗿

we can’t be friends (wait for your love)- complete

part 2

part 3

part 4

blurbs found under the tag- belle’s blurbs a.h.

𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝘁 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻

good old fashioned lover boy- benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

𝘀𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻

blurbs found under the tag- belle’s blurbs s.h.

𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲 𝗺𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗼𝗻

the boy is mine- eddie munson x fem!reader

[daenysx]

I would love love love a Sirius blurb of him just being a total simp over a Hufflepuff! Reader or a Sunshine! Reader. Maybe they’re married and he’s a reformed ladies’ man and he’s totally so whipped for his wife that the guys tease him about it (lovingly). Think like Anthony and Kate Bridgerton kind of smitten, like aggressive adorable.

I love your writing and have been on tumblr for just a little bit but your page is one of my favorite places to be.

This is for your sad girl sleepover, but it’s totally up to you whether you feel like writing it or not; my love and hugs regardless!

"wake up, babe." you kiss sirius's cheek soundly. "wake up, wake up."

sirius grunts, buries his face to pillow as if he can escape getting up. he mumbles something you don't hear.

"we're gonna be late." you say, excitement drips from your voice. "well, we won't but if you wake up now, we can take our time with the breakfast."

he shakes his head again, such a grumpy in the mornings. you play with his gorgeous locks, fingers rubbing his scalp lightly. he's pulled by your touch, nuzzling closer to your side. "please."

leaning into his pretty face, you kiss his cheek again. then his neck, and his bare shoulder. "i'm gonna make you pancakes and coffee if you wake up now." you try to bribe him. you'll do them anyway but he doesn't have to know that now.

"i can't." he says. "my eyes are closing on their own."

you love his morning voice so much, it's so scratchy and deep, you get into his arms, practically forcing your way to snuggle to his chest. "i love you." you say, pressing kisses on his neck. "open your eyes."

sirius holds you close to his chest. if anyone, including james and remus, would try so hard to wake him up so early in the morning, he'd be the grumpiest person in the whole world and turn their lives into hell to his pleasure. he once had a big fight with remus because of it when they were still at school. james still gets so surprised every time sirius replies his texts early in the morning, ever since the beginning of your relationship.

when it's just you and him, though- how can he resist your shiny smile and bubbly voice? you're being so sweet on him, kissing him everywhere, trying to give him hopeful eyes for having a long breakfast and going to a picnic with him. he keeps you on his chest, spending his last minute in bed wrapped around your warmth.

and then- he feels like his heart will explode. he's giddy all of a sudden, he takes a precious minute to kiss you. he always has the urge to keep you to himself, right there on his chest, just to have your sweetness all to him and no one else. he kisses you a bit roughly than he means to. you kiss him back, your hand stuck in his hair to accept his affections.

"hmm?" he says, finally blinking his eyes open.

"here you are, handsome." you say, cupping his cheek. "i was afraid you'll never wake up."

"morning, gorgeous." sirius says. "i'm awake, promise. can we have some coffee?"

"yes!" you say, leaving the bed. "meet me in the kitchen."

sirius rubs his eyes. he forces himself to go to bathroom. you're singing in the kitchen, it takes a lot of strength of him to go wash his face instead of going to kitchen and hold you in his arms.

sad girl sleepover ♡

[fiction-is-life]

Congratulations on 500 non-bot followers! I just joined the ranks after reading the angstly little treat you did for @eleanor-bradstreet 🤩

I would like to request a blurb for Anthony from your prompt list. #8 - "Looks like we'll be trapped for a while."

This is so fun!

Trapped and Titillated

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for the follow, love, and for your kind words! I am so glad you liked Touchstone of Our Character!  I had so much fun writing this request; it is quite a bit longer than a blurb, but I hope that makes up for the fact it has taken me so long to write it!  Enjoy!

Summary: You are trapped with the Viscount.

Warnings: Angst, getting locked in a room, verbal fighting, steamy make out session, brotherly teasing

~

The door wouldn’t budge.  Oh, I knew when that latch clicked, I was doomed.  Utterly doomed.  And it was all his fault.

“Well, you have done it now, my lord,” I seethed, letting the veneer of polite reserve fall away.  It was always thin around him anyway.

Anthony Bridgerton had the audacity to raise one perfect, dark brow.  “I have done it?” he intoned, his voice cutting through my rising panic, reinforcing who I was angry at.

“Yes,” I hissed.  “You shut the door behind you, and now it is jammed.  It may be hours before someone comes by and finds us, and what then?”

He took a step towards me, matching the one I had subconsciously taken, bringing us closer than society would deem acceptable.  “As far as I am concerned, I have only done what was my right.  This is my library in my home, and I may shut any door I please.”

“Not when an unmarried young lady is in said library - unaccompanied.  Or have you forgotten the rules of the Ton while you were busy raking about the kingdom?” I knew I had struck my mark when I saw the Viscount’s eyes darken, his whole body tensing.

“Miss (Y/L/N), you do not know of what you speak,” he said through clenched teeth, and I shivered from the ice in his tone.  Anthony certainly did not miss it.  “I was raised a gentleman, Miss (Y/L/N), as a member of one of the most respected families in all of England, no less.”  

I scoffed and raised my chin and matched his stance.  We were practically nose-to-nose with each other.  “Well, there must be an exception to every rule, my lord, and I suppose you are it.”

I wanted to take the words back as soon as I said them, terrified at the way his features turned from red-hot anger to a cold, stony silence.  I took a shaky breath.  “M-my lord, I apologize.  I believe I am overwrought from the events of today.  Please forgive me,” I spoke in a rush, not daring to make eye contact with those dark depths again.

A long moment passed before he cleared his throat, his complexion returned to a more normal hue but his posture still stiff.  “It looks like we'll be trapped for a while, Miss (Y/L/N).  We may as well make ourselves comfortable," he spoke in a clipped, quiet tone.  For some odd reason, I wished he would have yelled instead.

He must have noticed the look of panicked confusion on my face as I alternated between staring at him and the couches near the fire.  “Do not fear, Miss (Y/L/N), I shall strive to reign in my more ungentlemanly urges.  Your virtue is safe from me.”

I bit my lip, nodding at his words.  They were what I wanted to hear.  Right?  Oh, dash it!  I had never been prone to hysterics before, but something about being this close to the Viscount was making my thoughts and feelings a muddle.  So, I did the only thing that felt safe.

I pretended to read.

I believed it was working, too.  That is, until the Viscount cleared his throat again.  I wanted to roll my eyes at the realization that the smallest of his gestures still commanded attention.  I was looked over during a one-on-one conversation, but Lord Anthony Bridgerton could simply breathe in a certain way and every head would turn.

“Is there something you need, my lord?”  I asked, my eyes still blindly trained on the pages in front of me so that I missed his growing smirk.

“You must be a great reader, Miss (Y/L/N),” he said.

I raised one perfectly arched eyebrow.  “Yes, I do love a good book,” I returned, turning the page.

“You are most certainly a more avid reader than I.”

That made me look up at him, confusion wrinkling my brow.  “Why do you say that, my lord?” 

He openly smiled now, allowing me to see that little dimple in his one cheek.  “I have never mastered the art of reading words that are upside-down.”

“What?”  I looked down and finally saw what book I had picked up.  It was a tome on new farming practices, and it was indeed upside down.  

Well, I could not let him win that easily.  “I find I absorb the words much better when it is more difficult to read them.”  I looked down my nose as I had seen many women do.  “I believe it is important to challenge oneself, so one does not become ignorant and vain.”

His features twisted into a wry grin.  “Very true, Miss (Y/L/N),” he said in a tight voice.  He crossed over to the sofa I was sitting on and sat down - far too close for comfort.  “What are other pursuits that you find are challenging enough, may I ask?”

I knew he was goading me, but I simply could not back down from his challenge.  “Any activities I find rewarding, I suppose.”  I closed the book and tilted my head, staring him in the eye.  “Making sound investments, helping run the household, volunteering for charities,” I listed, not even trying to mask the smugness in my tone.  “Basically anything that contributes to society, unlike spending every night at gaming hells or with ladies of the night or -”

His lips crashed onto mine, cutting me off.  I felt positively surrounded by him as he crushed me into the back of the sofa, his strong arms encircling my waist and pulling me into him.  He smelled of bay rum and mint, and it was utterly intoxicating.  

At first, I was too shocked to react, but as his lips moved insistently on my own, I started to follow his lead.  He growled when I parted my lips, and my eyes shot open when he darted his tongue into my mouth, but it felt too good to pull away.  So, I pulled him closer.

My hands tangled in his dark locks, and when my fingers caught on a knot, Anthony pulled back slightly, moaning.  I gasped and pulled back.  “Did I hurt you, my lord?” I asked, concerned.

He groaned again, his eyes darkening further.  “Call me that again,” he growled, panting heavily.

My face twisted in confusion.  “My lord?”

“Yes,” he breathed, his lips finding mine again.  His hands wandered this time, sending pings of pleasure straight to my core.  I couldn’t hold back my own noises when his strong hands found my breasts, my nipples pebbling embarrassingly.  

I lost track of time as Anthony peppered wet kisses down my neck and over the swells of my breasts where my dress did not cover them.  He started to work his hand under the skirt of my dress when a crash was heard on the other side of the library.  

“Brother! Are you in here?  I need to get away from all of the matchmaking endeavours mother has concocted,” the voice of Anthony’s brother, Benedict, was heard.  Anthony’s head snapped up, a panicked look in his eyes.  

“Stay here.  I shall get rid of him,” Anthony whispered before rising from the sofa, straightening his jacket where I had mussed it.  “Brother.  You find me at an inopportune time.  I was just leaving,” he called out to his brother, trying to prevent him from seeing me.

“Why?  You already met with the steward this morning.  You have nothing else planned until dinner.”  Even I could hear the skepticism in Benedict’s voice as it grew closer.  

“Well, yes, but I thought I might go for a ride,” Anthony hedged.

“Wonderful!  I shall join you!”

“No!” Anthony shouted.  “I mean, I was wishing to ride out alone this time,” he finished in a more tempered tone.  

There was a long pause where I thought Benedict just may have believed the lie.  “Are you sure you want to be alone?  Because I think Miss (Y/L/N) might disagree.”  I gasped.  “I shall see you at dinner, brother, Miss (Y/L/N),” he said, a door closing behind him shortly after.  

I sat up with a huff, my cheeks flaming a brighter red than they had been before.  “I am sorry; I did not think anyone would follow me here -”

“What door did he come through?” I interrupted what was sure to be a very eloquent apology.

Now, the Viscount’s cheeks turned red and he scratched the back of his neck nervously.  “Well, um, he used the hidden entrance in the south wall.”

“Oh, you cad!” I screamed.  “Open it.  Now, my lord.”

Anthony silently moved toward the south wall, pulling a certain book back to reveal a hidden door.  I gathered my dignity about me as I fixed my skirts.  I caught a whiff of his cologne once more as I passed him, and for a brief moment, I wanted to turn back.  Instead, I held my head high, giving the Viscount one of those superior looks other ladies had mastered.  I wanted him to know I was not to be trifled with.

But I knew this was not the end of my encounters with the Viscount.

~

My Masterlist

[regencyrosalie]

I love the angsty stories but I need a cute fluffy Anthony x wife story. After season 3 and how cute of a husband he was I need to se more of that

heres a lil blurb for you <3

Anthony Bridgerton’s wife is his closest friend, which is why when he had to be gone all day for a meeting, he was practically whining when he returned back to Bridgerton house. Benedict tried to greet him, only to be ignored as he searched the house for his wife.

When he finally found her, she was in the drawing room, stitching some fabric.

“What are you up to, dear?” he asked, making her jump slightly.

She glared at him, with no real malice. “Can you not just announce yourself properly?”

“That is not nearly as amusing,” Anthony grinned, and plopped down on the sofa next to her.

She rolled her eyes, “I’m mending a curtain.”

“Mm, I see,” he hummed, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing playful kisses to her temple.

“What are you up to?” she countered.

“Can a man not dote on his wife?” he replied indignantly.

“You know very well this will not end with doting,” she scolded with a laugh, continuing her needlework.

“I know not of what you speak,” he said smugly, “I am afraid your mind is tainted.”

“If that is so, it is your doing,” she retorted.

“That it is,” he pressed another kiss to the top of her head, before gently taking the curtain from her hand and placing it on the end table.

“Anthony,” she warned.

“Aht, aht,” he interjected, lacing his fingers with her hand that was reaching to retrieve the fabric again, “I have been meeting with tenants all day, and I would like some of your attention.”

“You have some of my-“

“I would like all of your attention,” he corrected himself.

She laughed softly, and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. “I suppose I can finish up in the morning.”

“Yes, I suppose you can, and will” he agreed playfully, and laid across her lap, twirling a loose strand of her hair.

She stroked his hair back softly, watching him melt under her touch. “How were the tenants?”

“Do not speak of the tenants,” he whined.

She laughed, “It is my duty to care for the estate as well, is it not?”

“It is first your duty to please your husband, as mine is to please my wife, and you can do so by not demanding I recall that boorish meeting,” he answered.

“Fine, fine,” she smiled down at him, “no meeting talk.”

“Good,” he stroked her cheek with his thumb, “how was your day, my love?”

“I missed you,” she admitted, “It is tiring without you to pester me.”

“My poor darling,” he cooed, “how will you get by with no husband to bother you?”

“I do not know,” she sighed with a giggle, “I shall wither from boredom.”

“Well,” he sat up again, “you will not wither any time soon, for I am here to attend to you.”

“Ah, how noble, my dear.”

[alyswritings]

"babe, you're shivering." "n-no i'm n-not"

With Anthony Bridgerton daughter please 🫶🏻

The family are at a picnic with other families, the young ones going off and playing.

"C'mere, darling." Anthony calls to his daughter. She walks over to Anthony who has some food. "Here, eat something."

Y/N sits down next to him, Anthony noticing her hands slightly shaking and her nose is red. He sees her shiver and places his hand onto her cold cheek.

"Babe, you're shivering." Anthony notes.

"N-no, I'm n-not." Y/N argues, ignoring how she shivers a little.

"Darling, you're cold." Anthony says. "C'mere, love." He pulls her over to him and places her on his lap. He moves her food closer and wraps his arms around her stomach. "I'll get you warm in no time."

"Aren't you cold?" Y/N questions.

"Not very much, no." Anthony says. "Just eat some lunch, all right?" He says, kissing her on the head and Y/N starts to eat some of the food.

[darknights04]

are you still working on the Elijah mikaelson Bridgeton fic?

I'm sorry it took so long 😭😭 Lots of life changes have been occurring. But here it is, a small blurb of what could be the start of a series if you guys like it.

The Social Season

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x reader Summary: The Mikaelsons have returned to London for this year's social season. No girl had ever caught Elijah's eye before, until now. Word Count: 2772 Masterlist

London 1814

The London social season had been in full swing by the time the Mikaelsons had returned to the city during one of Lady Danbury’s events. Elijah and his siblings had barely walked through the doors before ruthless mamas began to smooth our their daughter’s dresses while eyeing them from across the room. Elijah was the prize, certainly, but if any woman was to catch a Mikaelson son at all they would consider it a win. Rebekah had also never had a difficulty keeping her dance card full. 

It was well past the first soiree of the season, but it was the first that the Mikaelson siblings had made an appearance at. The marriage-minded missus of the city (and their mamas) always kept a keen eye out for them. While they may not have had the status of the Duke, the Mikaelson family was both well known, respected, and equally as feared. Not even Lady Whistledown dared to write more than their names. 

“Must we return to this god-awful city every year?” Niklaus groaned as the wave of young bachelorettes swarmed towards them. 

“Speak for yourself,” Kol smiled, watching the ladies with a much different expression. “I rather like being adored.” 

“Mikaelsons!” they all heard coming from the opposite direction. Upon inspection they saw none other than Anthony Bridgerton advancing towards them. Rebekah and Elijah turned toward him with bright smiles with Niklaus and Kol tended to the hoard of ladies with empty dance cards. 

“Bridgerton,” Elijah greeted with a smile, meeting his arm in the middle to shake his hand in greeting. 

“You’ve missed a great amount in the short few weeks you’ve been absent this season.” 

“Yes, well, we had some family business to tie up back in the states across the water.” 

“No matter, you are all here now. You must join our family for a promenade sometime soon so I might regale you with all the happenings from the season thus far.” 

“I’m sure we’ll catch up plenty with a reading of the last couple Lady Whistledown issues,” Rebekah remarked with a small chuckle.

“Yes but surely, sister, as you know as well as I Whistledown doesn’t know everything,” Elijah corrected before turning back to Anthony with a smile. “We’ll be glad to join you, Bridgerton. You shall name the day.” 

“Fantastic! Oh and we must not forget the ball my mother is hosting at our estate in the country. You’d all be welcome there as my guests if you so desire.” 

“I would be honored, my lord,” Rebekah said with a smile, bowing her head slightly. It was no secret that she fancied the man. Her whole family could see it. While Rebekah had no intention of being courted or heavens forbid marrying anyone, she could still dream about the life she might live were she able to. The beautiful family that might surround her. The number of children she and the viscount might have been able to have together. But that was nothing more than a fantasy. Precisely the reason that Elijah was hardly ever seen taking any young ladies to the floor. He felt it foolish to fill them with futile hopes of him proposing. Every respectable lady of the ton desired marriage, children, a real family. Something none of the Mikaelsons would be able to provide. 

Nonetheless, the Mikaelsons always appeared before the ton each year during the height of the social season just long enough to maintain appearances. Not to mention, Kol had not found an easier afternoon snack than that of a young lady hoping for a betrothal. They never killed any of the members of the ton, of course. Such a high standing society member would surely be missed. Nothing a bit of the vampires’ own blood and a little compulsion couldn’t resolve.

“You must meet my dear cousin,” Anthony stated after a brief moment. “She’s come to live with us after the passing of her mother, my aunt.” 

Anthony turned as he beckoned you over to them. Elijah sighed as he looked down at his feet, readjudsting his posture to be more proper as he awaited your arrival. When his eyes met yours, however, his reluctance towards the introduction vanished. 

“Mikaelsons,” Anthony continued. “This is my cousin, miss Y/n Ledger.” 

“A pleasure,” you said with a polite smile and a perfect curtsy. 

“The pleasure is mine,” Elijah replied quickly, offering his hand for you to take. Once you softly placed your hand into his, Elijah brought it ever so slowly up to his lips as he touched the softest kiss to your gloved hand; an action that did not go unnoticed by Rebekah, nor the ravenous mamas behind them. Elijah was not one to give more than a curt nod to young ladies introducing themselves. “Lady Ledger-”

“Just miss Ledger,” you corrected. “Lady Ledger was my grandmother.” 

While the response was simple, it answered many of Elijah’s questions. For one, you were not married. If you had been married you would either hold a title as a lady or hold a different last name than your grandmother. Second, your mother was not married. Had your father been a Ledger himself, your mother would hold the title of Lady Ledger, not your grandmother. As that title is still her grandmother’s to hold, your mother hadn’t married a lord to gain the title herself. Thirdly, she must be related to the Bridgertons through the sister of the current vicountesses Bridgerton. 

“Pardon me, Miss Ledger. Would you care to do me the honor of a d-”

“Y/n, surely you must join me for a cool glass of lemonade,” Rebekah interrupted, linking her arm through yours as she dragged you away to the drinks table. 

Elijah stood dumbfounded as you both walked away. Rebakah knew it was improper to interrupt, but after living for 800 years she couldn’t come to care. Elijah watched your expression closely. He expected a protest, or for you to at least look back towards him. There wasn’t a chance you didn’t catch what he wanted to ask you. Any other lady would have jumped at the opportunity to be led to the floor by a Mikaelson. Especially by Elijah, being the eldest for all intents and purposes. 

As soon as the two of you were gone, Elijah was swarmed by the ton much like his brothers were just moments before. Nikalus and Kol could not agree to another single dance, having agreed to partner with a different lady for each one, so naturally the crowd has turned next

‘’ towards both Elijah and Anthony, knowing this was the season the viscount longed to secure a wife. 

Anthony looked towards Elijah with raised eyebrows as he let out a deep sigh before having to face the wolves. 

--- 

As the week went on, Elijah and Rebekah agreed to join the Bridgerton family in a turn about the park in Mayfair. Rebekah loved their family. She envied Violet’s ability to have so many children. A life she longed for herself. Elijah, on the other hand, wanted to know more about you. 

“Bridgertons,” Elijah greeted the family with a nod as they approached. “Miss Ledger,” he said toward you.

“My lord,” you greeted back with a smile and a small bow.

“Would you care for a turnabout the lake?” he offered, holding his arm out for you. 

“Oh,” you said with a slight tone of surprise, looking back at the Bridgerton family. Before you could find the words to accept or deny, Violet spoke up for you. 

“She would love one,” Violet beamed with a nod, pulling you forward to take his arm. 

You chuckled in defeat as you wrapped you arm around his, hand resting on the crook of his elbow. 

The two of you had barely gotten ten feet from the rest of the family before he bagan to bombard you with questions. You didn’t mind, of course. Most most began conversations this way, especially when “interviewing” their potential matches. 

“So I really must ask,” he began. “How is it that you’re not married yet?” 

You chuckled at his question, one of the ones you expected to hear first. “Well, my mother had me out of wedlock. If it wasn’t for or connection to the Bridgertons then I would be labeled a bastard child and thrown out of society entirely. Instead, my mother trained me from a young age so I could have the perfect match. She was determined. Too determined. Her determination ended up turning away a lot of possible suitors.”

As you spoke, you noticed Elijah was genuinely interested in what you had to say. He wasn’t spaced out as you rambled on, he didn’t seem annoyed or simply waiting for you to be finished. He wanted to know about you. About your life.

“As the seasons past, and I got older, everyone began to lose interest. I’ve been officially put ‘on the shelf’ as they would call it, at the ripe age of three and twenty.”

“Yet you still attend events with the rest of the ton?” he questioned. 

“Living with the Bridgertons comes with a surplus of invitations,” you explained with a smile. “And Eloise needs encouragement through her first season.” 

Elijah let out a laugh at that. “I pity any man who tries to tame her.” 

“Not possible,” you rebutted with a laugh of your own. “Eloise is one horse that cannot be tamed.”

As you continued to walk, you noticed many eyes turned to stare at the two of you. 

“And what of you?” you asked him. It was his turn to answer your questions. 

“What of me?” 

“Surely you have your number of available matches. Why have you gone so long without securing one?” 

Elijah chucked while glancing to the floor, watching your feet walk in sync. “In truth I’ve never had the desire to settle down with anyone,” he explained. “It didn’t seem like the type of life I was meant to live.” 

“And now?” you asked. Both of your steps had halted as you turned to face one another, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the words to answer you. 

“Now…” he began, not truly knowing what his answer was. “Now, I’m not sure what the future holds for me.” 

The two of you stayed in silence you a couple moments longer, stuck searching the others eyes for answers to questions you didn’t know. It wasn’t until you remembered where you were that you tore your eyes from his, clearing your throat.

“We should make our way back,” you said simply. “They’ll be serving tea under the gazebo soon. Would you and your sister care to join us?” 

It was Elijah’s turn tp clear his own throat, facing back towards the path in front of you as he continued to walk.

“Indeed,” he nodded. “That would be quite agreeable.”

After a few moments of silence, you spoke up again. “You must join us in Aubrey Hall next week.”

“Yes, Lord Bridgerton mentioned retiring to the country for a ball his mother is hosting.” 

“He’s invited the Sharma family to join us before the rest of the invited guests arrive, I insist your family do the same.” 

“Are you certain?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “We would not wish to be a burden.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” you assured him. “There is plenty of space and I could use the company while Anthony is busy in his dance of courtship. I shall discuss it with the family upon our return.” 

As the two of you walked back towards the Bridgertons, you felt eyes on you left and right. Both lords and ladys staring at the pair of you with two feelings on their mind. Confusing and envy. 

---

As the Mikaelsons dismounted from their carriage at Aubrey Hall, the entirety of the Bridgerton family was waiting to greet them. 

“Lord Mikaelson,” Violet smiled, greeting him with open arms. 

“Elijah, please,” he corrected, bowing his head slightly towards her. “You’ve invited us to be guests in your home, its only fair that you might call us by our given names. You know my sister, Rebekah,” he continued, motioning towards his siblings. “And might I introduce my brother, Niklaus and Kol.” 

“A pleasure, Lady Bridgerton,” Kol greeted with a bow of his own, followed by Niklaus.

“You have a lovely home,” he spoke up with a warm smile. 

“While you’re here you may think of it as your own,” Violet began before motioning towards the front doors. “Please, we were just about to sit down for tea. The Sharmas should be arriving any moment.”

As the group walked into the house, Elijah’s face lit up with a smile seeing you sitting in the parlor, waiting for everyone else. 

“My lord,” you smiled, standing up to offer a quick curtsy. “I’m pleased you could make it.”

Elijah grabbed your hand before your eyes raised to meet his, bringing it once more up to lightly caress it with his lips. Your breath hitches in your throat as this time, you weren’t wearing your gloves. 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” his said, looking back at you with a smile, you hand staying in his while he looks up at you. 

His eyes held yours for another moment before you heard a throat clear behind you. Elijah turned to see Kol with a sly smirk on his face.

“Ah, yes, miss Ledger allow me to introduce my brothers, Kol and Niklaus.” 

Both men in question smiled warmly as they each gave the the girl a quick bow. 

“Brother,” Elijah continued. “I’d like you both to meet miss Y/n Ledger. Cousin to the Bridgertons.” 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” you said with a smile of your own, giving a small curtsy. 

“Miss Ledger,” Niklaus starting, stepping forward to be next to Elijah. “I hear you’re quite the artist. I myself dabble in painting every now and again, I’d love to see your work.” 

Elijah looked towards his brother uneasily. Anyone who overheard him may have taken his comment as a kind remark, but Elijah didn’t miss the calculating grin on his face. He had an agenda. 

“An artist?” Elijah repeated with a slight tone of surprise. He wasn’t sure how his brother came to know this.

“Yes, brother. I’ve done my research,” Klaus answered back simply. 

“Oh,” you began, a bit take off guard by his knowledge of you. “Well I’ve tried my hand at painting every now and again, but Benedict is the true artist of the family. It’s him you’d be wanting to speak with about it.” 

“Miss Ledger I don’t recall ever seeing you on the dance floor,” Kol spoke up next. “You must allow me to lead you sometime. I am, after all, the best dancer in the family.” 

“Perhaps the best male dancer,” Rebekah spoke up, seemingly appearing beside him. “Both of you, stop overwhelming the poor girl.” 

“Oh, I really don’t mind, Lady Mikaelson.”

“Rebekah, please,” she almost scoffed. “Titles make me feel much too old.” 

“I couldn’t possibly-”

“I insist,” she interrupted. “In any case, we are all most comfortable being called by our given names. When one hears the name ‘Mikaelson’ being thrown from across the ballroom we never know for who it is intended for.” 

“Very well, Rebekah. Then you all must call me Y/n. Especially here in the country, away from the rules of London society.” 

“Lord Mikaelson,” Violet could be heard from behind, approaching the small group in the parlor. 

“Again, Elijah really is fine,” he corrected again with a chuckle.

“Elijah,” she repeated, a warm smile on her face. “You really must allow Y/n to take you on a tour of the grounds. I hear you’re quite the reader and my late husband, Edmund, had quite the collection in his library.” 

“But aunt Violet,” you started before Elijah could give an answer. “I told the kitchen staff that I would assist in serving the tea.” 

Violet waved you off. “I shall send down Eloise to help them. You go on and show Elijah your uncle’s library upstairs.” 

“I would love to see it,” Elijah added, urging you with his smile.

“Very well,” you nodded. Elijah help out his arm, motioning for you to go first, following close behind as you led him up to the Bridgerton’s library. 

“Might they be needing a chaperone, Lady Bridgerton?” Rebekah asked her with a sly grin, catching onto Violet’s schemes. 

“I’m not sure as to who you are referring,” she replied with an innocent shrug, turning back to return to the rest of her family. 

[fayes-fics]

Driven to Distraction

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (sort of...), modern AU

Summary: Modern AU. An eventful ride home from a Christmas Eve party...

Warnings: 18+smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f), fingering, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation, one use of derogatory language, arguing as foreplay, sort of a threesome... sort of.

Word Count: 2.5k

1k followers build-a-blurb prompt: Anthony 👅 Smut 😡 enemies to lovers 🥳 party 🚗 car/carriage sex Smutmas Kink: Day 3 - Voyeurism/Exhibitionism Smutmas Dialogue Prompt: "There's no way I'm letting you spend Christmas alone"

Authors Note: Well... I have no excuse for this. This is sort of fulfilling a 1k follower celebration Build a Blurb request and Day 3 of @hallownightsblog 12 Days of Smutmas. Thanks to @makaylan for beta reading this. Err, enjoy <3

Your sequin dress catches the light as your stride out of the opulent country house Christmas party. A fire of golden indignance.

“Don’t fucking follow me, Bridgerton,” you spit out over your shoulder.

“Don’t walk away from me; we are not done here,” Anthony shoots back, almost breaking into a jog to catch up with your pace as you charge out the main door.

You stalk onto the driveway, fold your arms and cock a hip, shooting daggers at him. You wish you had brought a coat with you tonight; it's freezing out now. But you don't want to admit to that chink in your proverbial armour, don’t want to give an inch in this stupid, petty argument. You know it's twisted, but nothing gives you more of an illicit thrill than sparring with this man.

An s-class Mercedes pulls up almost silently next to you as if summoned from thin air. It must be his, as he nods to the driver; that just seems to fuel your irritation.

“Get in the car,” he sighs.

“No.”

“Get in the bloody car, y/n,” he grouses. “How else are you going to get back to London?”

“I’ll order an Uber or call a cab,” you sniff.

“Out here in the sticks? On Christmas Eve? To go forty miles? Yeah, good luck with that,” he snarks.

He's right, and you hate it. You were supposed to go home in your friend's car, but she was last seen headed upstairs with her tongue down the host's throat. You doubt you’ll see her again until well after Boxing Day.

You narrow your eyes at him, then wordlessly wrench open the rear door to his fancy car, sliding into the seat with a sour expression and throwing aside your clutch bag. He opens the driver's door, which momentarily confuses you, exchanges a couple of words with the driver then huffs a hollow laugh as he climbs in on the other side of the backseat.

The car glides away almost silently, the gravel driveway crunching under the tyres the only audible noise. You stare out the window, posture stiff, fuming, refusing to look over at him, watching the blur of trees reflected in the headlights as you zip down a narrow country lane. The heated leather seat is doing wonders to warm your legs, but you don't want to give away any sense of contentment.

“Not going to talk to me?” he needles after a few tense minutes.

You don’t dignify a response.

“Fine,” he sighs, “at least tell me where you want dropping off.”

“My flat is fine,” you sniff.

“Who is there?”

“No one,” you frown.

“Nope, not dropping you there,” he grouses.

“Why not?” you cry indignantly.

“There's no way I'm letting you spend Christmas alone. You will come to Bridgerton House,” he states plainly.

“No, I won't,” you scoff. “Drop me home.”

“No. We can stop there to pick up a few things if you wish, but then we drive on to mine.”

This is why you hate this man in almost equal measure to your attraction to him. The way he expects the world to bend to his will. It makes you so angry you want to try and fuck the arrogance right out of him. The one time you had sex before, a few months ago now, it was admittedly bloody fantastic.

“You are not the boss of me!” you volley back.

“No, you’re right; if I were your boss, you’d actually have to fucking listen to me and do what I say,” he spits.

“Hah!” you laugh bitterly, “I’d never do what you told me. In fact, I’d always go the polar opposite.”

“Fine,” he retorts, “keep your fucking knickers on, then.”

“Excuse me?!?” You finally look over at him, and his chest is heaving.

“You heard me,” his eyes flash at you.

He has you stuck; in order to do the exact opposite of what he’s saying and win this petty argument, you’ll need to remove your knickers.

You are never one to back down in a fight. And you need to fuck him again so bad your skin itches.

Pushing up slightly, you pull up your sequined minidress just enough to grab your underwear and slide it down your legs.

You say nothing but look at him defiantly. You see his pupils dilate and his chest heave as you do exactly what both of you want.

“Keep your legs shut,” he orders gruffly.

You have no choice. You open them, your jaw squared.

He sinks into the footwell in front of you, and your breath hitches. These huge, luxury cars always have acres of room in the back, and this one is no exception. Your seat must be almost three feet from the passenger one in front.

“Close them harder,” he growls up at you.

Your dress rides up around your hips as you splay your knees wide. His eyes drop to between your legs, and you suddenly feel a throb there as he licks his lips.

“Don’t you fucking dare kiss me,” he snarls, his fiery gaze back on your face.

He’s well and truly got you there.

With a raised eyebrow, you lean forward, grab both ends of his undone bowtie, and roughly pull him to you, your mouth slanting over his.

“No tongues,” he mumbles against your lips, and your mouth opens hot on his, tongues meeting and almost biting each with the intensity.

“Don’t you dare touch my pussy,” you whisper against his cheek, joining in the game, and his whole body flexes.

You gasp as he expertly brushes your clit. So turned on and electric hot.

“I suppose you’d hate it if I ate you out,” he murmurs hotly, his thumb swirling a teasing pattern that makes you want to bite him.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you breathe unevenly, settling back into the chair as he dips down and roughly tugs your hips forward, pushing your legs even wider.

Suddenly you remember you are not alone. There’s a driver, likely listening to everything the two of you are saying. You glance in the rearview mirror, and your breath catches. He is looking right at you, his eyes so intense.

That isn’t a chauffeur at all.

That is Anthony’s brother. Benedict.

Anthony’s tongue ploughs into you, and you cry out as his swirls wet and questing around your clit. He definitely knows what he is doing.

But you don’t look away from the mirror. In fact, you lick your bottom lip lasciviously, then bite down. By god, you want him to watch you. Be the voyeur as his brother makes you come; give him something to remember. There's a hint of blush high on his cheeks as he quickly looks back at the road—his sudden rash of bashfulness just makes you want this even more.

You fist Anthony's hair, and he growls against your inner thigh as you direct his movements, taking your pleasure as much as he is giving it. He tilts your pelvis and moves lower into your heated flesh, his nose nudging your clit as his mouth covers your pussy, gently pressing his tongue into your body just a fraction, your walls clinging to him; his invasion feels like so much and yet also not enough. You glance down as you breathe heavily, feeling a ghost of stubble on his cheek, chafing the sensitive skin around your labia.

As Anthony tongue fucks you steadily, your eyes drift back to the mirror, knowing Benedict is cataloguing every look on your face. He shifts slightly in his seat, and you hear a change in the revs as his foot slips for a second. The idea he is hard and wanting is a depth charge of lust. You moan loudly as much for him as the man expertly taking you somewhere pleasurable.

Anthony moves back to your clit, running increasingly narrow circles right over your sensitive nub. For what feels like ages, he is swirling, teasing, changing pressure and bearing down harder with every noise you make, his hand almost bruisingly wrapped around your thigh.

You writhe and pant, your gaze pinging between the delicious sight of chestnut hair buried between your legs beneath you and the wanton eyes of the driver in front. You silently mouth his name in the reflection, staring him down. You watch as his pupils dilate even more.

You fight the potent, heady urge to push yourself into Anthony’s face, not to let him even breathe unless it's into your body. You want him to drown in you. He growls as your manicured nails scrape heavy on his scalp, his mouth open wide, sucking your flesh, his tongue lapping flat and broad.

You pant as you realise Benedict has taken one hand off the wheel, and you guess by the angle of his elbow he is palming his erection.

“Yes, don't stop,” you murmur, your voice throaty and rasping. It's a double meaning for both of them, and you stare Benedict down in the mirror, nodding, goading him to touch himself, almost wishing you could watch. From this angle, all you can see is the motion of his arm, and somehow that makes it all the more appealing. That you have to imagine him, hard cock in hand, relying on the car’s technology to take over as his concentration slips.

Anthony’s panting breaths buzz against your clit as he furrows on, and you take to shamelessly grinding yourself on his face. He sucks your clit hard between his lips, then uses a little edge of his teeth to nip at the tip, and you kick out a leg against the window, the tink of your stiletto against the glass making Benedict swerve until the car course-corrects for him.

“Be careful,” Anthony gruffs, pulling away a fraction and grasping the leather seat next to you as leverage.

You smirk at Benedict in the mirror, shaking your head slightly, and he raises his eyebrows challengingly as if blaming you.

“Touch yourself,” you call softly, knowing they will both interpret it as a command for themselves, which is precisely what you want. You hear a trouser zip, and the heady thought that you have no idea who’s, just excites you beyond belief.

Anthony redoubles his efforts, making filthy sodden noises as he pulls your swollen bud hard into his mouth. Suddenly two fingers plunge inside you, hooking deep, and you can't help but cry out.

“Fuck yesssss,” you stutter, eyes rolling back and your whole body flexing.

You can feel an almost magnetic pull inside, the start of a fluttering in your channel, as he finds that spongy spot that makes you lose all sense and drags harshly against it with a come hither motion. You pant open-mouthed as the sensation makes every muscle in your body clamp down hard, tensing, every fibre of your being taut and shaking. You don't break your heated gaze with Benedict the whole time, seeing out of the corner of your eye the play of taut muscle rippling in his white dress shirt, knowing that he must have his cock in a vice-like grip.

You are extra vocal, knowing it is making Anthony preens with pride at his skills and giving Benedict fuel for his masturbatory movements.

“Don't you dare come all over my hand and face,” Anthony snarls, knowing he has you close to the edge now, twisting his head slightly to kiss the sensitive skin where your thigh meets your pelvis.

“I’d never give you the damn satisfaction,” you yap back breathily, eyes glinting in the flashes of overhead lamps as you enter the motorway.

Luckily, you clamp your thighs hard against Anthony’s ears just as Benedict growls, presumably at the idea that you will orgasm soon. Come with me, you mouth urgently to his reflection as he presses hard on the accelerator, the car zipping along now on the fast road back into town, everything outside the window a blur and the engine a soft purr in the background.

Just to tease everyone, including yourself, you spider a hand down inside your dress and pinch your nipple, shuddering and moaning as you do. It's for Benedict as much as Anthony—he can see it in the reflection. Anthony glances up at you just as you look down at him, his eyes blazing lustfully as his face shines with your juices.

“You are such a wanton little slut,” his voice is low and dangerous, and you instantly know that he knows. Knows what you have been doing with his little brother. And the slur you usually find so utterly insulting just rockets you higher when it drips from his decadent tongue.

“Don't you dare fucking call me that,” you hiss, but it’s undermined by the way you bite your lip almost to the point of drawing blood and writhe so lewdly in your seat, so desperate for that last bit of suction and friction to get you off.

“I'll call you what you are,” he menaces, then his mouth is back on you with more than an edge of teeth this time, and it's what pushes you over the precipice he has been dangling you over. You fight to keep your eyes open and on Benedict's face, his neck corded, and pulse hammering as your world narrows down to the rushing in your ears, the throb of your heartbeat in your chest and the burning pulsing ache around your clit.

“Fuck Bridgerton!!” you scream, and then you are convulsing, your eyes screwing shut as you bare down on Anthony’s face, knowing you are leaking all over him but not caring; you can feel him lapping hard at you, rousing filthy noises spilling from his throat as he drinks from your body. The sensation seems to last forever, notching across your skin, tensing and releasing in waves that you ride, undulating against his jaw, grabbing his hair in tufts until he growls harshly. As you float away, breathing heavily, his body jerks against you as you realise he has just made himself come too.

The car smells of sinful sex as you slowly come back into your mind. The realisation of what you have done hits you as Anthony slides back into the seat next to you, refastening his fly. You steal a glance in the rear-view mirror, but Benedict's eyes are on the road, steadfastly refusing to meet yours, and you sense he has the same mutual feelings of guilt you do.

“If you want to fuck my brother too,” Anthony drawls, running a hand through his hair, “all you have to do is ask.”

You blush deeply and look down, ashamed, picking at the edges of your manicure.

“No answer is an answer, y/n,” he chuckles darkly.

You just bite your lip and pull down your dress as far as it will go.

“You shouldn't feel ashamed,” Anthony intuits, “part of the reason I like you so fucking much is your wild side. I have no problem with it,” he adds casually. He leans in; his voice is velvety as he utters the last devasting line. “Especially if you let me watch.”

Benedict almost crashes the car at that.

After a brief stop at your place, it’s on to Bridgerton House for quite the most spirited, adventurous Christmas break you have ever had.

Anthony & Benedict taglists: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @queenofmean14 (if you want to be added to my taglist drop me a message)