#anthony bridgerton x male reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anastasiareadsnwrites · 2 months ago

Note

Hi,

I just love your Anthony Bridgerton x male reader story. Can you write another? I don't mind what it is about but maybe Anthony has a secret male lover who is of lower class than him, like someone who is a working or middle class person.

No One does it like Ant Part I (Anthony Bridgerton x Male! Reader)

Part I

Author's note: Hiya so I decided to make this into a series typa thing so I really hope this is to your liking. I'm so relived to hear that you loved the other one-shot or story. Thank you so much for requesting. I am intrigued to where this one leads.

Summary: Despite the weight of his title and obligations, Anthony Bridgerton finds solace in the secret moments shared with someone who should be invisible to a man of his status: you, a blacksmith's son. The stark differences in your worlds don't matter in the shadows, but in the daylight, the walls between you seem impossible to scale.

Warning(s): Tension/Anxiety, Emotional Turmoil, Risk of Discovery, ANGST, Class difference, Secret Relationship, Emotional Vulnerability, Mild Sexual Content, Fear of Loss, Period-Appropriate Homophobia

The MAIN Masterlist

The Bridgerton Masterlist

The flickering candlelight danced across Anthony's face, casting shadows on the familiar furrow of his brow. He stood by the window of the secluded cottage, his posture stiff, as though the very air around him weighed heavily on his shoulders.

"It's not enough," he whispered to himself, but you heard him, leaning quietly against the doorway.

"What isn't enough?" you asked, your voice cutting through the silence like a warm breeze in winter.

Anthony turned abruptly, his dark eyes locking onto yours, the tension in the air thickening as he hesitated. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, his boots echoing against the wooden floor. His fingers twitched, almost as though he was reaching out for you, but stopped himself, retreating back into his restrained composure.

"You and I...this life we lead, these stolen moments," he said, his voice low and laden with the turmoil that seemed to forever grip him. "It cannot be enough, for either of us."

Your heart clenched, but you stayed where you were. You knew this conversation would come, but you had not been prepared for the pain that surged within you.

"Why isn't it enough, Anthony? In here, away from your title, from society's watchful eyes, we are enough."

His expression softened, and for a moment, he allowed himself to drop the mask, the Viscount disappearing behind the man you loved. His lips parted as if to speak, but instead, he closed the distance between you, reaching up to cup your face in his hands.

"You deserve more than this, more than hiding in the shadows with a man like me," he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "But I cannot walk away."

His confession hung in the air, raw and real. You raised your hands to cover his, savoring the warmth of his touch.

"I never asked for more," you whispered back. "I only ask for you."

The truth of your words startled him. Anthony pulled back slightly, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw before dropping to his sides. He took a step back, his gaze distant, as if he were already being drawn back into the world outside—the one that demanded perfection, duty, and sacrifice.

"The world doesn't care what we want, Anthony," you said softly, "but in here, when it's just you and me, it can't touch us."

Anthony's expression tightened, torn between desire and responsibility. The flicker of vulnerability in his eyes was replaced by the rigid control he so often wore like armor. You could see the battle raging inside him, the weight of his title pressing on his shoulders, even as his heart urged him toward you.

“I have obligations,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, as though speaking the words made them more real, more suffocating. “A name to uphold. Expectations from my family, from society. This... this between us... it defies everything I’ve been taught.”

You frowned, stepping closer, the heat of the hearth warming your back. “And what about what you want, Anthony? You’ve spent your whole life living for others. Don’t you deserve something for yourself?”

Anthony’s jaw clenched, and he looked away, staring out the window into the night, as though the darkness held the answers he couldn’t find in the daylight. His silence was answer enough. You sighed softly, stepping closer, the space between you shrinking as you reached out to brush your fingers against his.

“Anthony,” you whispered, your voice gentle but firm, “I know what you’re afraid of. You’re afraid of losing everything. But what is the point of all that wealth, that power, if you’re alone? If you deny yourself happiness?”

His head lowered, eyes shutting briefly as he absorbed your words. For a moment, he allowed himself the luxury of your touch, his hand grasping yours, fingers interlocking in a way that felt both familiar and fragile.

"I want you," he said softly, his voice breaking the stillness. "God help me, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything."

His admission sent a rush through you, but it was bittersweet. The walls he had built around his heart were still there, still towering. You could feel the strain in his grip, the way his fingers tightened as though holding on to you could anchor him, even as he felt himself slipping.

You gently pulled him closer, resting your forehead against his, your breath mingling in the small space between you. “Then be with me. Here. Now. Forget the rest of the world, just for tonight.”

His eyes opened, and for a heartbeat, the mask dropped completely. Anthony’s hand slid up the back of your neck, his thumb brushing your skin as his lips captured yours in a kiss—deep, searching, filled with everything he could never say aloud. The world outside the small cottage faded away, leaving just the two of you in the warm glow of the firelight.

For now, it was enough.

But the unspoken fear lingered, a shadow neither of you could ignore. What would happen when the sun rose and the world outside came calling once again?

Later, as you both lay side by side in the quiet aftermath, the weight of Anthony’s unspoken words filled the room. He traced absent patterns along your arm, his touch gentle, but there was a tension there, something unsaid hanging in the air.

“You know this can’t last forever,” he said quietly, breaking the silence.

Your heart clenched, but you had known that truth from the beginning. Still, you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “Why not? Why can’t we find a way?”

Anthony turned toward you, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and longing. “Because men like me... we don’t get to choose. I’m the Viscount, the head of my family. The expectations... they’re not just mine to carry. They belong to my siblings, to my lineage. I can’t risk everything for something that the world won’t allow.”

You propped yourself up on one elbow, looking down at him, searching his face for something—some flicker of hope that this didn’t have to end. But all you found was the same conflict, the same war raging inside him that had been there since the day you met.

“I don’t care about your title, Anthony,” you said, your voice firm but gentle. “I care about you. And if you can’t let yourself have this, if you can’t let yourself have me, then what’s the point of any of it?”

Anthony’s gaze softened, and for a moment, you saw the man beneath the title, the one who longed for the freedom to choose his own happiness. But then the walls went up again, and he was once more the Viscount Bridgerton, burdened by duty.

“I wish it were that simple,” he murmured, his hand resting on your cheek. “But you and I... we’re from two different worlds. And I can’t pretend that the world will ever accept that.”

You closed your eyes, pressing your face into his palm. “Then let’s not care what the world thinks. Just for a little longer.”

The night was growing late, and though Anthony knew he should leave before the morning light betrayed him, he remained there beside you, holding on to what little time you had left together. As you drifted off to sleep, you could feel him watching you, his fingers tracing the contours of your face as though committing every detail to memory.

Tomorrow would come, and with it, the harsh realities of your different lives. But for now, you had each other. And for tonight, that was enough.

Morning came too soon. The pale light of dawn filtered through the thin curtains, painting the room in soft, muted hues. You stirred first, the warmth of Anthony’s body still close beside you, his arm draped protectively across your chest. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to bask in the serenity of it, in the peace that only came in these rare moments together.

But reality was already creeping in. You could feel it in the cool air of the room, in the weight of the silence that now stretched between you. Anthony stirred beside you, and as he slowly woke, you felt his grip tighten briefly, as though holding on to the last shreds of the night’s illusion.

His eyes fluttered open, and the moment his gaze met yours, you saw it. The mask slipping back into place. The Viscount, the man of duty, was already returning.

“I should go,” he murmured, his voice hoarse from sleep, but his tone carried a certain finality, like a man waking from a dream he knew he couldn’t linger in.

You sighed, sitting up and gently pushing the tangled sheets aside. The cold floorboards beneath your feet were a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed you’d shared, and it sent a shiver through you—not just from the cold, but from the realization that this, too, was slipping away.

“You always say that,” you replied, your voice steady, though your heart ached with the truth. “But you always come back.”

Anthony sat up beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made your heart tighten. “I come back because I can’t stay away,” he admitted quietly, his voice filled with a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. “But I can’t give you more than this.”

You turned to face him, searching his eyes for something—anything—that could give you hope. “Why can’t you, Anthony? What are you so afraid of?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m not just a man,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m the Viscount. My family’s future rests on my shoulders. Marrying, having an heir... it’s not just expected of me, it’s required. And being with you...”

His voice trailed off, but you understood. Being with you was not part of that plan. It never could be.

“I know what’s expected of you,” you said quietly, your voice steady even though your heart was breaking. “But I also know that you deserve to be happy, Anthony. And if that happiness is here, with me, then maybe it’s worth fighting for.”

Anthony’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw the flicker of hope, the part of him that longed to break free of the chains that bound him. But then, just as quickly, the hope was gone, replaced by the weight of responsibility that always pulled him back.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that,” he admitted, his voice cracking with the strain of his inner conflict.

You reached out, taking his hand in yours, holding it firmly. “You’re stronger than you think,” you whispered, your voice filled with quiet conviction. “But you have to decide if this—if we—are worth the risk.”

Anthony’s grip tightened around yours, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was heavy, filled with unspoken words, with all the things that could never be.

“I wish I could give you more,” he finally said, his voice barely audible. “But I can’t change who I am.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I know.”

And you did know. You had known from the beginning that loving Anthony Bridgerton would mean heartache. But even knowing that, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. You loved him, and even if the world would never allow it, you would carry that love with you always.

Anthony stood, his movements slow and deliberate as he began to dress. You watched him silently, the reality of the situation settling heavily on your chest. The moment was ending, and soon he would leave, just as he always did.

As he pulled on his coat and adjusted the lapels, he turned to you one last time. His gaze lingered on your face, and for a brief moment, the mask slipped once more.

“If I could... if things were different...”

You smiled sadly, shaking your head. “But they’re not.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to summon the strength to walk away. When he opened them again, the Viscount had returned, composed and resolute. He crossed the room in long, measured strides, and when he reached the door, he paused.

“I will see you again,” he said, his voice soft but certain.

You didn’t respond. You didn’t need to. You both knew the truth—that no matter how many times he walked away, he would always come back. But what neither of you could say aloud was that each time he did, the space between you would grow, the distance between your worlds widening until one day, it would be too vast to cross.

The door closed softly behind him, and with it, the chapter of this fleeting moment in your secret world came to an end.

You sat there in the stillness, your heart heavy but resolute. You loved him, and for now, that would have to be enough. But in the quiet of the empty room, a question lingered: how much longer could you both live in the shadows?

Days passed with a crushing sameness. The quiet routine of your life returned, each day filled with work and the small distractions that kept your mind busy. But no matter how hard you tried to immerse yourself in the rhythm of everyday tasks, thoughts of Anthony clung to you like a persistent shadow.

At night, when the world was silent and the loneliness pressed in, you would remember his touch, the way his voice softened when he was just Anthony—not the Viscount, but the man who had stolen your heart. The memories were bittersweet, tugging at you even as you tried to push them away.

Weeks later, as you stood at the forge, the clanging of iron on metal ringing in the air, you caught sight of a figure approaching the workshop. Your heart skipped a beat, the familiar broad shoulders and composed gait unmistakable. You set down your tools, wiping the sweat from your brow as Anthony stepped inside, the heavy wooden door creaking shut behind him.

He was dressed impeccably, as always, though there was something different about him today. A tension, a sense of urgency in his movements, as though he had come to a decision.

“Anthony,” you greeted, your voice steady despite the sudden quickening of your pulse. It was the first time you’d seen him since that morning he’d left your bed, and the air between you crackled with unspoken words.

He stood before you, eyes searching your face as though he hadn’t expected you to be exactly as he remembered. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of your last meeting hung heavily in the air, both of you knowing this wasn’t just another visit.

“I couldn’t stay away,” he said at last, his voice raw with emotion. “Every time I try to distance myself, it’s like I’m suffocating. I thought I could bury it, push it aside. But I can’t. I don’t know how.”

You stepped closer, your chest tightening as you watched the mask of the Viscount crack once more. This time, it wasn’t just a fleeting moment of vulnerability. It was something deeper, something more desperate.

“Then stop trying,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the roar of your heart. “Stop fighting it.”

He closed the distance between you in two long strides, his hands reaching out to grip your arms, his touch firm, almost frantic. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice shaking slightly. “I don’t know how to balance what I feel for you and the life I’m supposed to lead. But I know that I can’t keep walking away.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared up at him, the intensity in his gaze overwhelming. You could feel the battle raging within him, the clash between duty and desire that had haunted him for so long.

“What do you want, Anthony?” you asked quietly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “Not what society wants, not what your family expects—what do you want?”

For a moment, he hesitated, the question hanging in the air like a challenge. But then, as though the weight of it was too much to bear, he finally let go of the control he’d been clinging to for so long.

“I want you,” he said, his voice breaking with the force of the confession. “I’ve always wanted you.”

Before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours, the kiss desperate, filled with all the pent-up longing and frustration that had built between you. It was raw and messy, a collision of emotions that neither of you had been able to fully express before. You kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

For a moment, nothing else mattered. There was no Viscount, no obligations, no world beyond the walls of the workshop. There was only Anthony, his lips on yours, his hands gripping you as though you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to catch your breath. Anthony’s hands slid down to your waist, his touch softer now, more controlled but still filled with that same intensity.

“This won’t be easy,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “I can’t promise that things will change overnight. But I’m tired of running from this. I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you.”

You exhaled slowly, your heart swelling with a mixture of hope and fear. You had waited so long to hear those words, but you knew the road ahead would be anything but simple.

“I’m not asking for everything right now,” you said softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I just want you to try. To fight for us, the way you’ve fought for everyone else your whole life.”

His eyes softened, and for the first time in weeks, you saw the hint of a smile on his lips—a small, tentative thing, but enough to give you hope.

“I will,” he promised, his voice filled with quiet determination. “For you, I will.”

The days that followed were stolen moments, brief but filled with a new sense of possibility. Anthony was still the Viscount, and his duties pulled him away more often than not, but when he returned to you, there was a shift in him—a willingness to fight for what he wanted, for the life he had always denied himself.

There were no grand declarations, no sudden changes in his public persona, but in the quiet of your shared moments, there was a newfound resolve. You could see it in the way he held you, in the way his gaze lingered on you longer than it used to. He was still navigating the treacherous path between his duty and his desires, but for the first time, he wasn’t walking that path alone.

One evening, as the sun set over the horizon and the two of you sat together by the fire, Anthony turned to you, his expression thoughtful.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice soft but certain. “Maybe there is a way. A way for us to have more than this.”

You raised an eyebrow, your heart skipping a beat. “What do you mean?”

He smiled faintly, reaching for your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. “There’s a lot I can’t change about who I am or the life I lead. But I can change this—us. I can be with you, more than just in secret. I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m willing to find out.”

For the first time, there was a glimmer of hope in his words, a sense that maybe, just maybe, the world you both wanted wasn’t so far out of reach after all.

The days blended into weeks, and in those weeks, you and Anthony managed to carve out a fragile existence, balancing his life as the Viscount and the moments of tenderness he could afford with you. Every meeting was a risk, every touch a gamble, but neither of you could pull away. Not anymore.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows over the village as you waited for him in the small cottage just outside of town—a place that had become your sanctuary, a hidden world where, for a few hours, you could forget the harshness of reality.

You paced, the nervous energy in your body building as the minutes ticked by. Anthony was late, which wasn’t unusual given his responsibilities, but tonight felt different. There was a tension in the air, a heaviness that you couldn’t shake. You wondered if today would be the day he wouldn’t show up. If something had finally happened to tear him away from you for good.

But then, the door creaked open, and there he was—disheveled and out of breath, as though he’d run all the way from Bridgerton House. Relief flooded your chest, but it was short-lived as you noticed the look in his eyes: a mixture of exhaustion, fear, and something else... determination.

“Anthony,” you breathed, crossing the room to him, your hands reaching for his. “You’re late. I was worried.”

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his face burying in the crook of your neck as if trying to ground himself in your presence. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “There’s... there’s something we need to talk about.”

You froze, your heart pounding. His words were too serious, too final. Panic flared in your chest. “What is it?” you asked, stepping back just enough to look into his eyes. “What’s happened?”

Anthony sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. He looked tired, older even, as though the weight of his responsibilities had finally caught up to him. “My family... they’re pushing harder for me to marry.”

Your stomach dropped, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak. You had always known this moment would come, but knowing didn’t make it any easier.

“Do they... do they know about us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your worst fear suddenly feeling very real.

“No,” Anthony said quickly, shaking his head. “No, they don’t. But they’ve been watching me closely, and I can’t keep making excuses for disappearing like this.” His hands gripped yours tightly, as though he was afraid you might slip away. “But I’m not going to give up on us.”

The determination in his voice caught you off guard. You had expected him to tell you that it was over, that he had no choice but to marry someone his family deemed suitable. But here he was, standing in front of you, fighting for you.

“What are you saying?” you asked, your voice trembling with both hope and fear.

“I’m saying that I’m willing to take the risk,” Anthony said, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his eyes. “I’m tired of living my life for everyone else. I want to be with you. I don’t care what it costs me.”

Your heart soared, but at the same time, the practical part of your mind screamed in protest. “Anthony, you can’t just throw everything away. Your family... your title...”

“I know,” he interrupted, his hands cupping your face, forcing you to look into his eyes. “I know what I’m risking. But I’ve made my decision.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes. You had never imagined he would choose you over everything he stood to lose. But now that he had, the reality of it terrified you. “What if it all falls apart? What if—”

“We’ll figure it out,” he said firmly, pulling you into a kiss that silenced your fears, at least for the moment.

The following weeks were a blur of secret meetings, stolen moments, and whispered promises. Anthony became more reckless, more willing to risk everything for the sake of being with you. It frightened you, but it also exhilarated you—this man, who had been so bound by duty and expectation, was finally choosing to live for himself.

But the world had a way of catching up with those who defied it.

It happened one evening, just as the sun was setting. You and Anthony were sitting together by the fire, the cottage bathed in the warm, golden light of dusk. He had come straight from an event, his hair still neatly styled, his clothes still carrying the scent of expensive cologne. He looked every bit the Viscount, except for the way he relaxed into your side, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh.

A knock at the door shattered the peaceful silence.

Both of you froze. No one ever came here. This place was yours, a secret known only to the two of you. Anthony’s hand tightened on your leg, his eyes locking with yours, fear flashing in them.

You stood, your heart racing as you moved toward the door, unsure of what—or who—was waiting on the other side.

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bumblesimagines · 6 months ago

Text

The Clouds and The Stars

Request: Yes or No

Sequel one shot to The Sun and Moon!

Pronouns: He/Him/His

~~~

Married life... such a curious thing. Many grew up with an expectation as to how it would be, mostly based on their own parents' relationship. There were the happy parents who formed a love match and loved each other with their whole hearts. There were the friendly parents who were more friends than partners but still cared for one another. Then, there were the saddening parents who either due to a forced marriage or perhaps because of time grew to despise each other, only tolerating each other for the sake of their children whom they unknowingly harm with their arguments and jabs.

(Y/N) grew up with friendly parents. Lucy and Henry had ended their respective social seasons by marrying under the guise of being madly in love in order to chase after what they truly wanted, even if their desires had to be kept behind closed doors and only exposed to trusted individuals. Secrecy had always been a part of his life, even when it involved marriage, and he supposed now, as he lied in bed and watched the sun peek through the curtains, he'd truly followed in his parents' footsteps. At least, however, he'd found someone. Found more than one, in fact.

"Love," (Y/N) couldn't help but smile as Anthony sighed into his ear, his muscular arm tightening around him and pulling him closer to his chest. Anthony buried his face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply, lips pressing against his skin before he hooked his chin over (Y/N)'s shoulder. He gently nudged him, a soft grunt leaving him when (Y/N) remained still. "Love."

"What is it?" (Y/N) chuckled and finally shifted, moving onto his back and peering up at Anthony when he propped himself up onto his elbow. Anthony smiled at him, cheeky and pleased, one hand moving to cup his face and rub his thumb soothingly over his cheek, a warm twinkle in his dark eyes. (Y/N) felt his skin flush under such an adoring gaze.

"I simply wished to see my husband's beautiful face, is all." Anthony cooed, and (Y/N) smile widened tenfold, a bashful and breathy laugh escaping him. They weren't married to each other, not legally or in the eyes of the church at least, but in their hearts and to their families they were. Many in the ton suspected but with Queen Charlotte's silence and Lady Whistledown calling their dance together a 'much-needed change for such dreary balls', anyone with suspicions or beliefs remained silent. Of course, they still had to remain a secret, lest someone grew annoyed enough to reach out to the church.

"Such a charmer, Anthony." (Y/N) spoke teasingly, sighing softly against Anthony's mouth when he swooped down to kiss him. Anthony pressed harder against his lips and fully rolled over, laying ontop of the painter and only pulling away to trail kisses down his jawline and to his neck. Always so hungry, so needy and clingy. "Anthony, we have things to do-"

"They can wait," Anthony murmured against his skin, one hand slipping under his shirt while the other took his hand and locked their fingers together. (Y/N) rolled his eyes and released a breathy laugh, breath nearly hitching when Anthony needily rolled his hips. "We have time."

"It's an important day, Anthony. Francesca will need her brother today, you know." (Y/N) reminded him, dipping his fingers beneath Anthony's chin and gripping it lightly so he could tilt his head up. Anthony sighed dramatically, putting his full weight down on him and bringing their intertwined hands toward his face, a gentle kiss pressing against the back of (Y/N)'s hand. (Y/N) smiled.

"Suppose we should be quick, then." Anthony grinned mischievously, his free hand pushing up (Y/N)'s shirt and head dipping to pepper kisses along his stomach.

"Anthony!" (Y/N) tried not to laugh too loudly, mindful of those still slumbering in the nearby rooms. He could hear the maids and servants bustling around, likely readying the house and preparing breakfast. Such a big day for the Bridgerton family again, and yet, there lied the Viscount, acting like a hormonal boy all over again. (Y/N) swatted at his shoulder and pushed himself up but it only prompted Anthony's head to dip even lower. "Anthony Bridgerton!"

Releasing a muffled laugh, Anthony finally relented and sat back, his hand still keeping an iron grip on (Y/N)'s no matter how hard the painter trying to pull back. (Y/N) groaned again in fake annoyance that only made Anthony giggle like a child and reach out to pull him onto his lap. He leaned in, pressing their lips together again. (Y/N) melted against him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, squeezing Anthony's hand and feeling his fingers tighten even more.

"If only-" (Y/N) leaned back, briefly interrupted when Anthony pecked his lips again. "-you put this much effort into having an heir with Steph."

"Mm, I've been busy and she seems more than content with her... lady friends," Anthony said, nuzzling his face into (Y/N)'s chest. "If you'd been a lady, I'm certain you'd be expecting by now."

"Yes, I'm aware. You've made that abundantly clear, Lord Bridgerton. I don't understand how you can have this much stamina." (Y/N) shook his head with a soft laugh, sweetly kissing the top of his head and exhaling softly. "But, I am not a lady nor your wife, Anthony. You need an heir. I'm sure it won't take too many attempts."

"And what of you and Kate? I'm sure you nor she will have this difficulty if you try for children of your own. We have each other's blessings, you know. If you'd like to have a child-"

"We've been breaching the topic, actually." (Y/N) revealed, finally untangling his hand from Anthony's and rising up from the bed, searching for the clothes he kept in Anthony's home for days he spent the night. Because of their predicament regarding Anthony's position as Viscount and their inability to wed publicly or have children, both men agreed to take on brides. Stephanie provided the perfect candidate for Viscountess and (Y/N) had always held affection for Kate. "She's more than happy to have children. She thinks two is a good number, in fact, so they have someone to keep them company."

"How many do you think Steph will want?" Anthony sighed, standing up as well to get dressed.

"Well, if you have a boy first... I think you'll both be content with just one." (Y/N) chuckled, slipping his coat on and adjusting the ends of it while Anthony began taking clothes out of the closet. The thought of parenthood, of fatherhood, hung over the two of them, both exciting and nerve-wracking. The four of them would care for the children together, that'd already been agreed upon, but still... bringing life into the world? It made (Y/N) queasy yet... pleased.

"If you and I could have children," Anthony whistled sharply, a grin spreading across his face and fingers swiftly buttoning up his shirt. "We'd have a bigger brood than Mother."

"I don't doubt it." (Y/N) retrieved Anthony's coat from its spot draped over the armrest and approached him, helping him slip his arms through and adjusting it for him. He smiled, finishing the last button of his shirt and fixing the collar before tugging Anthony closer to kiss him. "You're insatiable, Anthony."

"Only for you." Anthony cooed, gearing up to lean in again but the sound of the door opening made him pause.

Stephanie dramatically gasped at the sight of them, lifting a hand to her head and fanning herself rapidly. "Oh, Kate, what ever will we do? How could they do this to us?" She gasped again, a teasing smile stretching across her face as Kate giggled and gently nudged her and walked further into the room. (Y/N) rolled his eyes at Stephanie but smiled widely at Kate, pulling away from Anthony to extend his arms out toward her.

"My darling wife." He greeted warmly, coiling his arms around her waist and planting a kiss between her brows. Kate hummed softly, leaning her head down to rest it on his shoulder. Stephanie stopped at Anthony's side, taking a quick look over his clothes before nodding approvingly and curling her arm around his.

"Shall we get to it? Breakfast is ready and Violet has been fretting over Francesca nonstop. She's worried about the poor girl." Stephanie told them and Anthony sighed heavily, leaning over to kiss (Y/N)'s temple and nod to Kate. The Viscount and Viscountess fell into conversation and exited the room, leaving Kate and (Y/N) alone.

"So, my darling husband," Kate began with a small laugh, lifting her head and smoothing out his shirt with her palms, her keen eyes searching for anything out of place before rising to look him in the eye. She smiled, pecking his cheek. "We have a long day ahead of us, as you know. Ready for this social season?"

"As long as I have you and Anthony and Steph, I'll always be ready."

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marilynmonroefanfics · 1 year ago

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Random Imagine

Anthony Bridgerton x ChubbyMale!OC

Imagine this, Peter Granville, son to Henry and Lucy Granville, catches the eye of Anthony Bridgerton. Without even having to try.

Peter doesn’t have the artistic ability of his father nor the charisma and strong personality of his mother. However, his parents always encouraged him in his likings. The young Granville is highly intelligent, as a child he adored spending time in his room, reading books his parents lovingly purchased for him.

He’s reserved, kind and soft-spoken. Anthony first notices him when the Peter was invited by Lady Bridgerton to spend an evening with the family.

Over tea, Daphne and Eloise were absolutely enamoured by him, even Hyacinth and Gregory seemed interested - Lady Bridgerton couldn’t believe her eyes - her two youngest children were patiently taking turns in Peter’s lap, while he spoke of his interests and appeased the family’s interest.

Anthony, although he was pretending to read on the couch, discreetly admired the young Granville, everything about him - his sweet face, his beautiful lips, the way he blushed at the overwhelming attention he was getting, the small stutter he had because he was nervous - he was obsessed.

Imagine, Peter as a respected young historian, a man who spoke multiple languages - French, Spanish, German, Italian, Greek… - a man who took his parents love and care, completely transforming himself. He built a career for himself, while honouring his humble beginnings. He was someone Anthony truly admired and truly desired.

Imagine, Queen Charlotte absolutely loving Peter, showering him with titles and honours: 1st Baron Granville of Potheridge, 1st Viscount Lansdowne, 1st Earl of…

Peter was known as Lord Granville, a title Anthony loved to use. It felt right, the young man deserved it, he was surely more honourable than most of the men and women in the peerage.

Imagine Anthony, who would send Peter all kinds of gifts, sweet perfumes who reminded the Viscount of the young Granville, amazing jewels that reminded him of the latter’s gorgeous eyes. Or even beautiful quill pens, in hopes Peter would write him a letter.

Imagine, Anthony adoring the sweetness and naïveté of his crush (or soon to be husband). Oh! How amazing it would be for Anthony to teach Peter, how to kiss, how to be touched, hearing his wonderful moans-

Anthony Bridgerton definitely has a hugeee crush on Peter.

#bridgerton x male reader #anthony brigerton #x male reader #male reader #anthony bridgerton x male reader

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lanawinterscigarettes · 18 days ago

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okay, this is a kinktober request but it doesn't have to be done if you don't feel comfortable with the content mentioned.

Anthony Bridgerton being intimate with a transmasc reader who hasn't had top surgery. The kinks would be body worship and nipple play (specifically sucking on the nipples). Begging can also be incorporated where Anthony is the one begging.

Thank you!

I love this request so so much!! this was by far one of my favorites to write, so thank you so much for sending it in <3

Kinktober 2024 Day 13: body worship, nipple play, and begging with Anthony Bridgerton x transmasc reader

Warnings: smut/nsfw content, body worship, nipple play, begging, Anthony's kinda subby here (sorry I just couldn't resist), pre-op chest for a transmasc reader (so they still have their breasts and stuff), brief mention of Anthony viewing the reader as his god/a religious figure (just adding that in case anyone feels uncomfortable with religious imagery in that context), mentioned penetrative sex (reader receiving)

"I love you, darling. You mean the absolute world to me," Anthony muttered as he brushed his nose and mouth against your neck in an affectionate nuzzle, holding onto you as you laid in the bed together. He didn't always show how much he adored you in public, but he more than made up for it when you were alone, clinging to you as if at any second you might disappear.

"I love you too, sweetheart." You watched him with a soft smile, finding it amusing that he was so close he was practically laying on top of you. To other people, he may have been Lord Bridgerton, Viscount and head of the household, but to you he was just Anthony, and that was enough.

"Mm..." He let out a hum as he dipped his head down to the spot where your neck met your collarbone, pressing light kisses to the area. His hands absentmindedly moved up and down your body as he kissed you, caressing you in a gentle and affectionate manner.

One of your hands moved up to absentmindedly play with his hair as you watched him, his lips moving from your collarbone down to the valley of your chest where your shirt wasn't buttoned all the way. You could feel his hands twitch from the spot where they were currently resting on your waist, as if he was itching to touch you more but didn't want to without getting your permission first.

"Anthony..." You softly cooed out his name, something that immediately caused him to stop kissing you so he could lift his gaze up to meet yours.

"Yes, my love?" He looked like a puppy dog, honestly. That was the best way for you to put it, especially with how his eyes got all big and needy whenever you spoke to him like that.

"Did you maybe want to do more than just kiss me, hm?" You gently prompted, knowing very well he wasn't going to take the initiative to ask for what he wanted without a little nudging from you first.

His eyes immediately dropped at the question, his cheeks flushing pink as he hid his face in your chest, refusing to look at you. "No..." His voice came out sounding a bit muffled when he spoke, though you could still detect the lie there quite easily.

Chuckling at his response, you gently tugged at his hair in an attempt to try to get him to meet your gaze again. "I know you're not telling me the whole truth. You can be honest with me, sweetheart, it's okay."

Ever so slowly, he brought his head up so he could look at you for a second time, appearing visibly flustered. "I- I want to touch them," he admitted in a quiet and somewhat nervous voice, as if he was worried about how you'd react.

You picked up on his demeanor right away, noting just how unsure he seemed. "You want to touch what, honey?" You questioned while running your fingers through his hair, hoping to sooth him.

Even if he still seemed anxious, it was clear your gentle show of affection had eased his nerves, if only slightly. Although he was embarrassed to ask, he took a deep breath and did so anyway. "Y- Your breasts. I was wondering if I- if I could touch them, if you'd be alright with it."

No wonder he was so nervous. Even though you'd both been intimate with each other many times before, he still preferred to ask if you were okay with him touching certain areas of your body beforehand so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable. He was such a gentleman in that aspect.

While your answer was obviously going to be yes, you couldn't help but have a little bit of fun with him beforehand. "What do you say?" You prompted, moving your hand from his hair down to his chin so he wouldn't be able to hide his face from you again like he had before.

The whine he let out sounded like music to your ears. "P- Please," he begged in a barely audible whisper, his eyes wide and desperate as they stared up at you. "Please let me touch your breasts, and- and suck on them, too."

The last part of his sentence may have surprised you slightly, but you'd be lying if you said the thought of him sucking on your nipples didn't turn you on. "Hm, I don't think I heard you. I think you'll have to speak up." You used your hand underneath his chin to tilt his head up a little further, ensuring he was looking at you when you spoke to him.

"Please," he begged for a second time in a way that was louder than before. "Please, I- I want to touch them and suck on them, please, darling."

"Well, since you asked so nicely." He could hear the amusement in your voice, and normally it'd make him want to be snarky in return just to spite you, but not this time.

His hands quickly moved to unbutton the rest of your shirt, his lips finding their way to the valley between your breasts yet again while he helped to rid you of the unnecessary fabric that was still in the way. As soon as it was gone, his hands went to your breasts, carefully cupping them as his thumbs lightly brushed over your nipples.

"You're so gorgeous," he murmured fervently, worshipping your body as if it were an altar. In a way, it was, because Anthony swore he found religion with you. No one else made him want to drop to his knees and beg, not even the almighty himself.

"Oh, darling, you flatter me so." A sigh of content left you upon observing him and his obvious eagerness at getting to touch and please you.

It was hard not to arch your back up the moment his mouth attached onto one of your nipples, sucking gently as the hand that had been on your breast moved down to rest on your ribs, his thumb caressing them affectionately. The hand that wasn't there was still on your other breast, caressing it in a way that mimicked receiving an intimate and personal massage.

Once he was satisfied with the attention his mouth had given to the first nipple, he switched over to the second, giving it the same treatment. The way he touched you was careful and a little uncertain, but still filled with the deep-rooted love he had for you.

You didn't always find yourself overly thrilled with the way you looked, but it was hard to hate it when you had someone who loved you so openly and unconditionally like he did. And if there was one thing about Anthony Bridgerton, he was going to take the time to remind you of his love every chance he got.

"You're making me feel so good right now, sweetheart," you commented while brushing your fingers through his dark chestnut hair, observing him with a fond gaze.

"I am?" He questioned seriously while picking his head up, as if he didn't seriously expect you to give him that sort of praise.

You just barely refrained from letting out a laugh. "Yes, of course you are. You always make me feel so good."

It was hard to miss the way his face practically lit up at your words, seeming to beam with pride upon having your approval. "Is it okay if I continue, then?" He asked in a way that was a bit bashful, and this time you did laugh, though it was playful and not malicious.

"What do you say first?"

He knew exactly what you wanted from him when you asked that. "Please, darling, please allow me to continue." The way he begged with such desperation in a voice that was so silky and smooth, how could you say no?

"Of course you can." The moment you gave him permission to keep going he dipped his head back down and began to pepper your chest with kisses. His hands went back to caressing your breasts, your nipples now hard from the way he had been sucking on them earlier.

He spent the entirety of the rest of the night worshiping your body, telling you just how gorgeous he found you and how amazing you were in his eyes. His movements were still slow and deliberate when he entered you later on, his mouth and hands remaining focused on your breasts and upper torso as he was determined to let you know just how perfect you were.

After you'd both finished and were done for the night, he insisted on falling asleep with his head resting on your chest and his hands glued to your sides while he laid on top of you, not wanting to be away from you even as he slept. He was nothing short of completely devoted to you, that much was certain.

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x-johnnybaileystan-x · 5 months ago

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Anthony Bridgerton x male reader

I love Kanthony, don't get me wrong, but I would love to see more Anthony Bridgerton x male reader stories. I know that there are some out there on here but I would just love to see more. I think it is because Jonathan Bailey is gay so why not Anthony.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x male reader #x male reader #male reader #bridgerton #netflix #jonathan bailey #anthony bridgerton x reader

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foap-mactavish · 3 months ago

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Got bored so made a Bridgerton oc: Elias

#anthony bridgerton x male reader #bridgerton #my ocs #ocs #oc art #oc x canon #anthony bridgerton

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fherystargaryen1991 · 1 year ago

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😍😍😍

How about a request where Anthony is head over heels for the reader because of her motherly nature. First, he sees how she would play with Daphne’s son, and he just feels how great it’s like to be taken care of (like the reader would take care of him when he’s sick and help him with all the family duties) since all this time he took care of his siblings. The Bridgertons (and Simon) sees how in love Anthony is with the reader and they help with the proposal plan.

falling for ya | a.b

pairing: anthony bridgerton x gn!reader

warnings: none just fluff

word count: 1.2k

a/n: this has took me an embarrassing amount of time to get to but here it is! Anthony being an idiot in love

The season was over and you had been invited to the Bridgerton country home, Aubrey Hall. At this time in the year it was just the family and close friends. Eloise had invited her close friend, Penelope Featherington. Your invite had come from Benedict, you had met him at the Royal Academy of Art and became fast friends.

Of course you knew that his and your own families wished for an offer, your own mama was sure you’d come home with such news but it wouldn’t happen. He was a friend and nothing more. Besides, you were in love with his older brother.

Over the course of your friendship, you had also grown closer to the other Brigerton siblings, and their own children.

Small giggled laugher followed you, as you ran across the lawn, you turned seeing two small Bassett children running after you on small chubby legs, both holding small play swords. “You’ll never catch me” You declared, waving your own sword in the air.

The laughing increased, as they hit back.

You gave a cry of dismay and carried on running, over by the house, under the refreshment tent, the older siblings sat, the children were off begging Violet for something sweet.

“They’re quite good with them, don't you think?” Daphne asked the others, Simon gave an agreeable nod. Benedict and Colin were too busy in an argument over something unimportant, Eloise and Penelope were discussing the latest Lady Whistledown.

Anthony though was watching with alarming personal interest, he had never seen you in this light before, you were Benedict’s art friend. Always off with him painting or looking at paintings or discussing paintings.

Then he saw himself as a young boy, playing with his siblings when he carried the weight of everything on him. He had never blamed them for that, he loved his family with all his heart. But he couldn’t deny how he’d like to be taken care of for once.

For the first time, he longed to fall ill, nothing series of course, just a head cold or something like that. Where you would sit by his bedside, reading to him and holding a cold cloth to his head. Maybe you’d sit by his bed and draw.

Just this morning, very early in the morning, he had left the house to have a walk through the gardens and had found you sitting on the wet grass, in your dressing gown and slippers. Coloured pencil spread across the ground around you, on your lap the most beautiful sunrise he had ever seen.

Anthony felt a blush spread across his neck.

The day he had first met you, you had been a bundle of nerves. Meeting his family had been the easy part but the head of the household, meant moving up. He had made some comment or joke over dinner and you laughed and laughed.

And then there was that time, he had run into you in the park.

With a cousin, the second you spotted him you beelined for him, leaving your poor cousin to tail behind.

Then at the last ball of the season, his mother had made him dance with you, he believed your mother did the same to you. The whole dance you played a game where he and you would guess what the other couples were discussing and the way you smiled when you had made him laugh.

By god he loved you, he, Anthony Bridgerton, he who swore he’d never love, had fallen in love with you.

“I give in, I give in” you exhaled, dropping the sword, the children giggled, you picked up a glass of lemonade, “God they can run fast on those little legs”.

The others laughed, Simon seemed to straighten his back with pride, Daphne was looking at Anthony smirking. Someone at the house called your name, “Dear, a letter for you has just arrived”

“It will be from my mama” you roll your eyes, “Better hurry and write something back”. You left the group and thanked Violet.

The second you had entered the house, Daphne grabbed her brother so fast he jumped, “You’re in love with them, aren’t you! I knew it”.

Anthony blushed harder, failing to speak, Colin and Benedict looked uninterested. Then Anthony realised he was the last to know. Each one of his siblings knew and just didn’t care enough to tell him.

After afternoon tea you had found the most puzzling note, attached to your door. Asking you to meet someone in the gardens.

Across the grass was a blanket and two drawing pads, “Hello?” you called out. As you walked closer you found Anthony waiting, “Anthony?” you asked, kneeling to sit beside him, “What is this?”.

He smiled, handing you a pad and some pencils, “Let’s call it a private art lesson”.

“Why not ask your brother?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell him I said this but you’re the better artist”.

A warm feeling spread across your face and down your neck, you flipped open the pad, “Well draw something and we’ll see what needs work”.

You looked up from your drawing, Anthony was frowning, the pencil working hard, it was sweet you had to admit.

“No no its…..” you gave up, you think he tried to draw a flower, “It’s a start” you smiled.

“What did you draw?” he asked.

Damn

You hadn’t planned on showing him, you didn’t plan on showing everyone, but he was looking at you and waiting and it just felt rude not to. Slowly and feeling more heat all over, you turned the pad around.

“Is that me?” he asked.

You closed the pad hard, “It means nothing.. You were there and- I” you couldn’t find the right words and felt more flushed as you went on.

“It’s beautiful, you’re beautiful”

Your mouth dropped open.

“I know this may seem like it’s coming out of nowhere but I didn’t know how I felt until now. You see I have felt something for you ever since you laughed at my joke during the first dinner, and then today when I saw you playing with Daphens children it made me see things for how they really are”

Your mouth was still open, his words coming as a complete shock but not unwanted. He was everything you could want, he made you laugh, he talked with you with real interest not the half listening other men did, he was an amazing dancer and now this, trying to do something you loved.

His art was poor but still he had tried for this moment.

He said your name and you swore your heart skipped. “I- I did not mean to overstep”

“Anthony” you smiled.

He looked hopeful, “yes?”.

“I think I should be the one saying that” you said, unable to stop grinning.

“Yes?”.

“Yes!”

You leaped into his arms, he caught you right away.

Without a second thought you kissed him, falling deeper into love with him.

After the kiss and the ones that followed, you lay in his arms. “We’ll have to thank everyone, they helped set this up” Anthony said.

“Benedict will call himself cupid until the end of time” you laughed.

Anthony linked his hand with yours, “As long as I’m with you, I can face my brother”.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x gn reader #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x male reader

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lady-ashfade · 6 months ago

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Golden Son

Yandere!Bridgertons x Male!Sibling/Son!readee

╰･ﾟ✧☽ new season was amazing and I had this idea in my mind. Partly because I was jealous of Colin the whole time.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warning: yandere behavior, over protective, Platonic

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

Ever since you were little all they ever wanted to do was be around you. Fighting for who gets to play with you, or who got to hold you when you were born.

The middle child getting much attention? That was rare but all they could do was give it to you.

Your older brothers, and sister, would fight over who got to teach you. Having a sibling to look up to was important and they did everything in their power to get you to favor them more.

Eloise was born after you. But she wanted your attention from the minute her brain could think. You are her ideal and safe space. seeing her as more then just a woman.

God forbid you look so close to your father, everyone is more protective over you. Especially your mother, who dots on you almost every second.

When you are older the younger ones get to keep your time because it’s fare. They have more free time and you can’t say no.

You are the talk of the town really because you are so rarely at the balls or events because the family likes to keep you safe.

So everyone is always marveled at the sight of you.

Until it is time for you to take your first debut in the season.

Another Bridgerton man who wants to find a wife? Ladies are lining up at the door.

Whether you want the attention or not, your siblings can’t allow anyone near you they don’t want…So everyone.

They ask questions to make them unsure of themselves and uncomfortable. Or pull you around the room and leaving the girls to their defeat.

If you want love then they will grant you to have it, but they must like the person and get to know them along side you.

If lady whistledown wrote anything bad about you? They will unmasks her so quickly it’s bad.

And if Eloise already knows? She’s making her pay. And if Colin is courting her and already asked her to marry him? He’d dump her in a second. You are his little brother, his favorite little star.

You are the family’s glue. You make them happy, feel at home and safe.

#Bridgerton x reader #Bridgerton x male!reader #yandere bridgerton #yandere Bridgerton x reader #yandere Eloise Bridgerton #yandere Colin Bridgerton #yandere Anthony Bridgerton #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #x male reader

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strnqer · 1 month ago

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anthoy's face remained buried deep in your neck, his hands gripping your clothes like a lifeline. the soft tremor of his body against yours sent waves of emotion crashing through you. his sobs had faded to quiet sniffles, but the warmth of his tears soaked into your collarbone, a reminder of the storm raging inside him.

you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, feeling the weight of his grief press against you. in this moment, he was not the forthcoming viscount but a man unraveling, raw, and exposed. you felt the tension in his shoulders, the way he held back, trying to uphold the little facade of strength he could grasp.

you gently swayed as if trying to soothe a child, and he melted into you, his breath hitching as he finally surrendered. His grip tightened on your clothes, fingers fisting the fabric as if it were his only anchor in a vast ocean. you felt the tremors of his body, each one a release of the pain he had held for so long.

as he pressed his face further into your neck, you ran your fingers through his hair, grounding him with your touch. the simple act of holding him felt sacred, a fragile moment that demanded silence. you could feel him exhale slowly, the tension beginning to seep away with each soft breath.

“you're okay now; i've got you,” you whispered softly, your voice barely above a breath. he responded by clutching you tighter, a silent plea for the comfort only you could provide. you felt the heat of his tears against your skin, a torrent of emotions pouring forth as he let go.

in that stillness, you allowed the world to fade away, holding him close and whispering sweet nothings into the shell of his ear. it was a moment of fragile yet profound intimacy, and the two of you remained that way until everything truly felt okay.

#imagines #athony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #hurt/comfort #soft!anthony bridgerton #oneshot #drabble #anthony bridgerton x male!reader #anthony bridgerton x male #anthony briderton x fem!reader #anthony bridgerton x fem #fem reader #male reader #x reader #gn reader #x you #reader insert

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anastasiareadsnwrites · 2 months ago

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Hello, could I request Anthony bottoming for the first time and being a little nervous & embarrassed? With male reader making him comfy and teasing him about how sweet he's being?

Okie that's all , thank you :)

Call Me (Anthony Bridgerton x Male! Reader)

Author's note: Hiya, hun. You certainly can. Thank you so much for requesting. I really do hope this was to your satisfaction. If this wasn't what you were looking for please don't be shy to request another or dm for more ideas on future works.

Summary: After meeting with a few advisors you couldn't help but notice the tension in Anthony's furrowed brows or the way his hands would twitch now and then. So you would take the reins for the night.

Warning(s): 18+, NSFW, oral, Anthony receiving, Reader giving, praise, teasing, nervous feelings, letting loose, sexual tension...more to be added

The MAIN Masterlist

The Bridgerton Masterlist

The evening had been long, the weight of responsibility hanging over Anthony's broad shoulders as he met with advisors earlier that day. You noticed it—his furrowed brow, the way his fingers twitched involuntarily when he thought no one was watching. Anthony Bridgerton, the ever-strong and resolute figure, looked like he was holding onto something, something that was weighing him down.

But tonight, you had different plans.

As you both sat in the dimly lit room, the fire crackling in the hearth casting soft shadows on the walls, you could see the tension still written on his face. He hadn’t said much since you both returned. He was trying to hide it, but you could see right through him.

"You’re wound up," you said softly, placing a hand on his knee. He stiffened slightly at your touch, a quick intake of breath giving him away. You couldn't help but smirk at his reaction. The strong, stoic Anthony, so used to being in control, was clearly out of his element tonight.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," he muttered, his voice quieter than usual, betraying the nervousness he was trying to mask. You moved closer, your hand now resting on his thigh. He glanced at you, his usually confident eyes now betraying a hint of uncertainty.

"Anthony," you murmured, leaning in until your lips were near his ear, your voice low and teasing, "I can see it. You don’t have to hide anything from me." Your fingers gently traced circles on his thigh, feeling the tension in his muscles as he struggled to keep composed. His breath hitched slightly, and you knew you had him right where you wanted.

He swallowed, looking away, his cheeks faintly pink. It wasn’t often you got to see him like this—vulnerable, nervous. "It’s just... new," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, your hand sliding further up his thigh, watching as his eyes widened ever so slightly. "It’s okay to let go, Anthony," you whispered. "You don’t always have to be in control." He looked at you, his gaze a mixture of apprehension and need. You could tell he was on the edge of giving in, of finally letting go of the constant pressure to be perfect.

His hands gripped the sides of the chair tightly as you moved to straddle him, your fingers brushing through his hair. "I want you to relax," you said, your lips brushing against his ear. "Let me take care of you tonight."

Anthony let out a shaky breath, his hands finally moving to rest on your hips, his grip firm but hesitant. "I... I don’t know if I can," he murmured, his voice betraying the nervousness he was feeling.

"You can," you assured him, your hands moving to cup his face gently. "You don’t have to worry about anything. Just trust me." You pressed your lips to his, soft at first, testing, teasing. His response was slow, unsure, but then he kissed you back, a bit more confidently this time, though the nervousness still lingered.

When you pulled away, his face was flushed, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You smiled down at him, running your fingers through his hair again. "You’re so sweet when you’re nervous," you teased lightly, watching as his blush deepened.

"I’m not—" he started to protest, but you silenced him with another kiss, your lips pressing more firmly against his this time. He responded with more certainty, his grip on your hips tightening as you kissed him deeply, your hands roaming over his chest.

"You are," you whispered against his lips, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. "But I like it. It’s... adorable." The word made him groan softly, embarrassed, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of the ever-composed Anthony Bridgerton blushing like a schoolboy.

"Stop teasing," he muttered, though there was no real bite to his words. He was already giving in, slowly but surely, letting go of the control he usually clung to so tightly.

You leaned in again, your lips brushing his neck, your hands roaming lower. "Why would I do that when you look so good like this?" you whispered against his skin, feeling him shiver beneath you.

Anthony’s hands moved tentatively down your sides, still unsure, but you could feel him starting to relax, his breaths coming slower, deeper. You took your time with him, every touch, every kiss meant to reassure him, to let him know that he was safe with you.

"It’s just us," you murmured, your hands finally finding their way to the waistband of his trousers, feeling his breath hitch as you undid the first button. His eyes fluttered shut, his head resting back against the chair as he let out a shaky exhale. "You don’t have to do anything. Let me take care of you."

The soft sound of the fire crackling in the background was a stark contrast to the quickening breaths that escaped Anthony's lips as you worked on the buttons of his trousers, your hands moving deliberately slow. He was trying to remain composed, to hide the embarrassment that was no doubt burning through him. You could see it in the way he bit his lip, his fingers flexing slightly against your hips, unsure of where to place his hands or what to do with himself.

"Relax, Anthony," you whispered, leaning close to him, your lips grazing the shell of his ear. "Let me take care of everything."

He let out a soft sound, somewhere between a sigh and a groan, as your fingers finally tugged down his trousers just enough to free him. His skin was flushed, the anticipation and nervousness evident in the slight tremble of his body. You paused for a moment, just admiring how beautiful he looked like this—vulnerable, completely out of his element, and yet trying so hard to keep it together.

"So sweet," you murmured, your hand wrapping gently around him, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Anthony. His eyes snapped shut, a flush creeping up his neck as you stroked him slowly, deliberately, your thumb brushing over the sensitive tip in a way that had him gasping quietly. "You don’t have to hold back. You can let go with me."

His grip on your hips tightened, and you could see the conflict in his expression—the desire to give in, to let you take control, warring with the instinct to keep his composure. You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his stomach, just above the waistband of his trousers, and felt his muscles tense beneath your lips.

"You’re so cute when you’re like this," you whispered, your breath hot against his skin as you moved lower, your mouth hovering over him now. Anthony let out a soft, choked sound, his hips twitching slightly, but he tried to keep still, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He was clearly embarrassed, but you could tell he was slowly unraveling, bit by bit.

"Stop..." he muttered, though his voice lacked any real conviction, his hands now resting at his sides, fingers digging into the armrests of the chair. He was flustered, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips as you placed a soft kiss on the tip of his length, your hand stroking him slowly.

"Stop what?" you teased, glancing up at him through your lashes. "Stop telling you how sweet you sound? How cute it is when you gasp like that?"

His cheeks were burning now, and he let out a shaky breath, his eyes still squeezed shut as if he couldn’t bring himself to meet your gaze. You chuckled softly, loving how embarrassed he was—how you had the normally composed and controlled Anthony Bridgerton completely at your mercy.

You took him into your mouth, slow and deliberate, your tongue swirling around him as your hand continued to stroke what you couldn’t reach. The effect on Anthony was immediate. His head fell back, lips parting as a deep, breathless groan escaped him. His hand shot out, gripping the arm of the chair even tighter as if grounding himself.

"Ah—" His voice cracked slightly, a mix of surprise and pleasure, and you couldn’t help but hum in satisfaction at the sound. He was trying so hard to keep quiet, to hold back the noises you knew were just waiting to spill from his lips, but you wouldn’t let him hide them from you.

"Such a good boy," you whispered as you pulled back slightly, your hand working him in slow, deliberate strokes. His breath hitched, and you could feel the tension in his body as he fought against the wave of pleasure threatening to overtake him. "You don’t have to be so quiet, Anthony. Let me hear you."

He groaned again, this time louder, and you felt a surge of pride knowing that you were the one pulling these sounds from him. You took him back into your mouth, moving with more intent now, your tongue teasing every sensitive spot you knew would drive him wild. His hips jerked involuntarily, a desperate sound leaving his lips, and you could tell he was starting to lose control.

"Y-you’re... teasing," he managed to gasp out, his voice shaky and breathless. You looked up at him, his face flushed, his hair slightly disheveled from where his head had been pressed back against the chair.

"Of course I am," you whispered, pulling back just long enough to grin up at him. "You’re just too sweet not to tease, Anthony."

His reaction was priceless—the way his blush deepened, the way his hands twitched as if he didn’t know where to put them or how to react to your words. He was a mess, and you loved every second of it.

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before taking him into your mouth again, this time not holding back. You bobbed your head at a steady pace, one hand still stroking him while the other moved to gently massage his thigh. His breath was coming in shallow pants now, soft, desperate sounds escaping him as he started to give in to the pleasure.

"God—" he gasped, his hips bucking slightly as he neared the edge, his grip on the chair tightening until his knuckles turned white. You knew he was close, and you wanted to push him just a little further.

"You’re doing so well," you whispered against him, your voice low and teasing. "So cute when you’re flustered, Anthony. I love hearing you like this."

His response was a broken moan, his hips jerking up into your hand as he finally lost control. You continued to work him with your mouth and hand, drawing out every last sound, every shiver, every tremble until he couldn’t take it anymore.

"Please—" he gasped, his voice strained, barely able to get the words out. "I... I’m—"

"Let go," you murmured, your voice soft but commanding, and that was all it took. With a final, choked moan, Anthony tensed beneath you, his body shaking as he finally let go, coming undone in your hands. You didn’t stop, didn’t pull away, making sure to take everything he gave you as he rode out his release, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

When you finally pulled back, you watched as he slumped back against the chair, utterly spent, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His face was still flushed, his hair a mess, and you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he looked.

"You were perfect," you whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek softly. "So sweet."

Anthony groaned, covering his face with his hand, clearly embarrassed, but there was a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. "You’re insufferable," he muttered, though the affection in his voice was unmistakable.

"And you love it," you teased, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

He let out a soft chuckle, still too breathless to argue, and you knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Anthony was still slumped back against the chair, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. His flushed skin gleamed in the dim light of the fire, and you could tell he was still trying to recover from the intensity of what just happened. His face was still hidden beneath his hand, an obvious sign of his embarrassment, and it made you smile. The usually composed and controlled Viscount was utterly undone, and he looked both adorable and vulnerable.

You leaned forward, brushing a kiss along his jawline, your lips feather-light against his skin. He flinched, but it wasn’t from discomfort—it was from being so sensitive, his body still trembling from the aftermath.

"Still embarrassed?" you teased softly, your hand coming to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat. "You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. You were incredible."

Anthony peeked at you from behind his hand, his face still tinged with a deep blush, but there was a small, sheepish smile on his lips. "I wasn’t—" he started to protest, his voice hoarse, but you silenced him with a gentle kiss, your lips brushing his with just enough pressure to make him forget what he was going to say.

"You were," you whispered against his lips, your hand smoothing down his chest to rest over his stomach. "And I’m not going to stop telling you how sweet you are. I love seeing you like this."

He groaned softly, dropping his hand from his face as he looked at you, his brown eyes still clouded with embarrassment but softened by the tenderness between you. "I don’t know how you do this," he muttered, his voice low and rough. "Make me feel like... this."

You grinned, shifting to sit up straighter on his lap, your fingers brushing lightly across his skin, sending another shiver through him. "You’re just not used to letting go, Anthony," you said gently. "But I’ll help you get used to it. You don’t always have to be the one in control."

His brow furrowed, his lips parting as if to argue, but you quickly cut him off by tracing a soft path from his jaw down to his collarbone with your lips. You felt him shudder beneath you, his hands instinctively resting on your hips again, though they still hesitated, unsure.

"Let me praise you, Anthony," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin as you kissed the hollow of his throat. "You deserve it. You’ve been so good for me."

His grip on your hips tightened slightly, and you could feel the tension still coiled in his body, though it wasn’t the same nervous tension from earlier. This was something different—an anticipation, a growing need for more.

"You’re adorable when you try to stay quiet," you murmured, letting your lips trail lower. "But I want to hear you. I want to hear every sound you make, because they’re all for me."

Anthony groaned, his head falling back against the chair as he closed his eyes, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. "You’re going to be the death of me," he muttered, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips despite his embarrassment.

You chuckled softly, your hand sliding down his chest and lower, resting between his legs as you teased him, gently stroking the still-sensitive length of him. His breath hitched, his body tensing once again, and you could see the flush creeping back up his neck and to his face.

"Ah—" he gasped, his voice cracking as your hand worked him slowly, teasingly. He was already sensitive from before, and you could tell by the way his hips shifted beneath you that he was still trying to hold back. "You... you’re—"

"I’m what?" you teased, leaning in close again, your lips brushing his ear. "Driving you mad? Making you feel things you’re not used to?" You nipped at his earlobe gently, drawing a sharp gasp from him. "I know exactly what I’m doing, Anthony. And I’m not going to stop."

His hand shot up to grip your arm, but not to push you away. Instead, his fingers tightened around you as if anchoring himself, trying to keep from completely losing control again. He was embarrassed, flustered, but you could feel his body responding to every touch, every word.

"So sweet," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. "You make the most adorable sounds when you’re like this. I wonder if you know just how cute you are when you’re falling apart in my hands."

Anthony’s face burned with humiliation, but there was no mistaking the soft whimper that escaped him when you stroked him a little harder, your hand moving with just the right amount of pressure to drive him wild. His whole body tensed, his head falling back as another moan slipped from his lips, louder this time, and you couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction.

"That’s it," you murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. "Let it out, Anthony. Don’t hold back for me. I want to hear everything."

He let out a shaky breath, his grip on your arm tightening as his hips bucked involuntarily into your hand. "I... I can’t—" he gasped, his voice cracking as the pleasure overwhelmed him. "I can’t hold back."

"Good," you whispered, your hand working him faster now, your lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of his neck. "I don’t want you to. I want you to fall apart for me again, just like before."

Anthony’s breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving as he struggled to keep himself together, but you knew it wouldn’t last. He was too close, too sensitive, and the way his body trembled beneath your touch told you that he was on the edge of losing control once more.

"You’re doing so well," you whispered, your hand stroking him with firm, deliberate movements now, pushing him closer to that edge. "So perfect for me, Anthony. Let me hear how good it feels."

He groaned, his voice strained, and you could see the way his body tensed, every muscle tightening as he tried to fight against the inevitable. But you didn’t let up, your hand relentless as you whispered sweet praises in his ear, telling him how adorable he was, how perfect he sounded when he was so flustered and embarrassed.

"Come for me," you whispered, your voice low and teasing. "I want to hear you fall apart again, Anthony. Don’t hold back."

And with a final, desperate gasp, Anthony did just that.

His entire body tensed, his hands gripping you tightly as he came undone once more, his release hitting him like a wave. His moan was loud, raw, and utterly beautiful as he gave himself over to the pleasure, his body trembling beneath you as you worked him through it.

When it was finally over, he slumped back against the chair, completely spent, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. His face was flushed, his hair a mess, and his eyes—when they finally fluttered open—were glazed over with exhaustion and satisfaction.

You couldn’t help but smile as you leaned down to kiss him softly on the lips. "You were perfect," you murmured against his lips, your voice soft and affectionate. "Absolutely perfect."

Anthony groaned softly, his face flushed with embarrassment once again as he hid his face in his hands. "You’re insufferable," he muttered, though the warmth in his voice told you that he didn’t mean it.

"And you’re adorable," you teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Especially when you’re like this."

Anthony chuckled softly, though the sound was still breathless, and he finally lowered his hands, looking at you with a mixture of embarrassment and affection. "I don’t know how you do it," he admitted, his voice low and rough. "But I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before."

You grinned, your heart swelling with affection as you leaned down to kiss him again, softly this time, your lips lingering against his. "Get used to it, Anthony," you whispered. "Because I’m not done with you yet."

#bridgerton #x reader #fanfic #reader insert #anthony x reader #anthony bridgerton #Anthony Bridgerton x y/n #Anthony Bridgerton x male reader #x male reader #anthony x male reader #anthony Bridgerton x male reader #smut #lemon #lime #gay #man x man

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gayaristocrat · 2 years ago

Note

This was so good bestie🤭

Hi, 🌄 morning sex head canon for Anthony Bridgeton? Maybe with ftm reader (if you write for ftm reader that is if not you can just do male reader) where they are married? 🤷🏽

Morning sex 🌄

After a very successful season, Anthony found himself in a perfect predicament, you were wrapped up in his arms tightly and he was never letting you go, not again, the golden band that glimmered underneath the morning sun proved that to be right.

Shuffling lightly, you awake to a pair of dark hazel eyes, immediately a sloppy smile broke out on your face before pushing up into his plush lips. It was soft yet careless, not that it bothered the two of you and your tangled bodies.

Anthony coaxed you backwards into the sheets, pulling away, he smiles knowing your all his, just his.

“Morning…”

He mumbles breathlessly, eager to unravel his very thoughts, all containing you. He often thought about this, maybe that was unreasonable, especially once in public but he couldn’t help knowing you would reflect his want.

Relaxing into the soft fabric of the thick winter sheets, parting your legs, you give Anthony enough space to slot in easily, enough for him which resulted in your body being folded slightly, thighs bumping into your stomach.

Dipping down, he pecks you on the lips, something quick and forward to keep you occupied whilst he stripped the white underwear that clung to his growing bulge, a hard thud rippling against his sculpted stomach.

“Now that your legally mine…I can’t help but think-“

Cutting him off with a wiggle of your hips, it inevitably catches him off guard, his appendage jumping at the contact of your skin.

You sense the impatient dripping from Anthony’s body which matched the now fully hard erection he sported against your outer thighs. Stilling, your hands reach up to bury in his thick brunette locks, forcefully tugging him down into a longing kiss.

His tongue effortlessly entered your maw, rolling against your own. Regularly skipping breakfast, Anthony couldn’t help but let his hunger take control over him, the leaking tip of his prick rubbing up against the soft skin of your pucker.

Anthony often craved the close contact you now shared. Every single time he manages to lose himself somehow, even if for a minute he can only describe the feeling as blissful, reeling in your after-glow.

Breaking the kiss short, you murmur his name like a pray, hopeful that shortly he would enter the only place he liked to claim as “home”.

“Can’t help but think what…my lord?”

The nickname in itself had Anthony audibly half grunt, half scoff, but you could feel him twitch against your entrance. Pushing himself a little further, you greedily accept the tip of him raw, arms wrapping around his muscular back, holding him close.

His jaw runs slack, a low groan suggesting just how much he needed this, you. The continuous dribbling of pre helped ease the next couple of inches into you. His girth alone had your nails scraping along his arched back, up and down, back and forth.

It didn’t take long for Anthony to take the initiative, fully sheathing himself inside of your now stretched entrance, his balls heavily resting atop of your soft globes of flesh.

Both stilling, you hold your thoughts, a set of harmonious moans rejoicing together.

“Anthony-“

“Yes?” He panted softly.

“Move- please, I need you”

You didn’t have to ask twice.

#anthony bridgerton #x male reader #Anthony bridgerton x male reader #bridgerton #smut #male reader #reblog

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bumblesimagines · 2 years ago

Text

The Sun and Moon

Part 13/END

Request: Yes or No

God it feels good to properly end a series

~~~

The Granville house had been quiet for days. All their typical parties had been abruptly canceled and their friends had received no further word from them. The couple did not speak a word to each other nor to their servants, keeping to themselves instead. Dolly spent her days shuffling in and out of the guest room where the youngest Granville resided, labored breathing and occasional twitching being the only thing telling them he still had life in him. Five days, Theodore had counted, since the young man had fallen unconscious and remained in his sickly comatose state. The servants had quickly gotten used to the silence, working around the couple and continuing their work. The doctor visited once every day, taking the man's vitals and reporting the same thing to Henry.

"His health has not improved, but it has not declined either. We'll see what we can do when he awakens."

On the third day of no improvement, Lucy had lashed out and sent a flurry of insults toward the doctor, screaming as her husband dragged her out of the room. Since then, the doctor avoided giving any sort of report to them with her in the room. The only other visitors they got were servants sent from the Sharmas and Bridgertons. Flowers, letters, small gifts. Dolly made sure to replace the flowers once they began to wilt, replacing them with the ones Violet Bridgerton sent. Carnations, peonies, orchids. She made sure to add a card for Lucy each time, words from one mother to another. Lady Danbury had extended her help, offering to pay the doctor for his work. Or rather lack of.

The Bridgerton residence felt no different than the Granvilles. Quiet, solemn. Benedict kept to his studio and when he got home, he asked his mother for news before locking himself in his room to write letters or sketch. Anthony had been no different. He remained in his office most days, drowning himself in bourbon and endless work, just as he did prior to getting closer to (Y/N). Hyacinth and Gregory asked for news at least thrice a day, having the same reaction when their mother told them the same thing.

On the sixth day, when the sun began to peek through the curtains, (Y/N) flinched and opened his eyes, squinting up at the unfamiliar ceiling. He could hear birds softly chirping outside and as he heaved himself up into a sitting position, he spotted his furry friend at the foot of the bed, peacefully napping. Something wet slipped from his head, falling on his lap with a squelch. A wet rag. Furrowing his brows, (Y/N) set the rag aside and leaned back into the pillow.

"Poppy, darling, you can't be on the bed." He turned his head as Dolly entered the room with a vase of flowers in hand. She looked up when she noticed movement, gasping and dropping the vase, the shattering sound echoing through the room and awakening Poppy as well as alerting the rest of the house.

"Christ, Dolly, do you wish to give me a heart atta-" Stopping himself, Theodore stared at the young man as he rubbed his eyes.

"It's too early for this." (Y/N) muttered, voice barely audible and throat dry.

"What is the meaning of this?" Lucys' voice rang through the hallway and she stepped into the room, eyes falling on the broken vase before she looked up at her servants, brows furrowing and head turning in the direction of her son.

"Dearest.." She breathed, taking slow steps, almost as if she were afraid if she moved suddenly it'd shatter the moment. Lucy reached forward and hesitantly touched his face, gasping softly as the tears freely fell from her cheeks. Sniffling, she waved to the servants. "Someone fetch Henry!" She ordered, climbing further onto the bed and cradling her son in her arms, frail body shaking from the sobs.

"I-I'll inform Mr. Granville a-and get the doctor." Theodore stuttered, stumbling over the wet flowers scattered across the floor as he exited the room.

"What's going on?" (Y/N) questioned, arms weakly wrapping around his mother.

"You've been asleep for five days," Dolly explained quietly, blinking a few times before she crouched down, frantically picking up the flowers on the ground and setting them on a drawer before stepping closer to the bed, releasing a breath of relief. She lifted a hand and fanned herself before letting out a soft, relieved chuckle. "I'll get some soup for you, (Y/N). You must be famished." With that, the maid left the room as the other servants began peeking into the room, collectively gasping and muttering amongst themselves.

"What is Dolly talking about?" (Y/N) looked at his mother when she pulled back. Lucy wiped the tears from her cheeks and sniffled, affectionately stroking the side of his face.

"Lord Bridgerton went to see you at the estate. He claims that when he got there, you could barely walk. You collapsed in his arms. He tended to you until a doctor arrived the next day and you were brought back." Lucy explained, gently taking his hand and setting it on her lap, rubbing her thumb back and forth. (Y/N)s' lips parted, eyes shifting onto the flowers on the nightstand, the many letters beside it stamped with the Bridgerton symbol.

"He-"

"He left as soon as you were brought here. He hasn't returned." (Y/N)s shoulders slumped at his mother's words. Had he flaked cause things had gotten hard? Cause he couldn't handle it? Henry entered the room, disrupting (Y/N)s' thoughts.

"Father..." (Y/N) breathed. The first time Henry had looked had him since the wedding. Henry glanced at his wife, stepping over the glass and wet floor before he took a seat on the bed.

"Theodore... he- he said..." Henry swallowed, raising a hand to his face and releasing a shaky breath. A parent's worst nightmare; facing the possibility of losing their child without warning. Lucy reached over to rub her husband's back soothingly, sighing as all the tension from the past few days left her body.

"I'm okay." (Y/N) assured softly. "I'm okay."

"And we are so glad," Henry whispered, sniffling softly.

(Y/N) spent most of the day, resting. He kept himself entertained by reading the many letters, all from different friends. Kate, Benedict, Violet, and even Edwina. Not a single one from Anthony. He could hardly recall anything from the day he fell unconscious. The whole day had felt like a blur and the only thing he could remember distinctly had been Anthony calling out to him. Had Anthony truly taken care of him? Why had he left as soon as he could?

"The doctor says you'll be feeling better with some medicine," Dolly revealed as she got a spoonful of the liquid the doctor had given them. "Says it could be as early as tomorrow." She smiled, placing a hand under the spoon to avoid making a mess before bringing it to his lips. (Y/N) wrapped his lips around the spoon, swallowing the medicine and cringing, the bitter taste making the hairs on the back of his neck stand tall. Dolly offered him a glass of water which he gladly took, hoping it'd wash away the horrible taste.

"Your parents have refused to see any visitors for you until you feel better," Dolly stated, setting the spoon down on the table and taking a seat on the bed. "But, I did hear from one of the maids that Lord Bridgerton plans on visiting as soon as possible."

"Now? After all this time?"

"I know, but... The day you collapsed, he came here. He wanted to speak with you and your parents. I wasn't present, at that moment, but Theodore told me he gave a rather heartfelt speech and claimed he wished..." Dolly trailed off, a small smile toying at her lips.

"He wished what? Dolly, come on!" (Y/N) gently took her arm, shaking it lightly. Dolly laughed and shifted to face him, leaning in playfully.

"He wished to propose. Said that no matter what your parents thought, he was set on doing it. If you accepted, he'd said a small private ceremony could be held." Dolly giggled and scooted closer, taking his hands into hers and giving them a squeeze. "I believe him, (Y/N). Theodore may be hesitant, especially because of this sudden illness, but I truly believe he cares for you."

"What if he gets bored, Dolly? What if in a few months he realizes he wants a bride and a child? These types of relationships rarely last long. The thrill of secrecy and meeting under the cover of night... It can grow tiring and boring. What if he realizes the only thing he felt for him was just... a rush, or lust even? I cannot deal with another heartbreak, Dolly." (Y/N) shook his head, feeling his eyes begin to water. "I- I cannot."

"My darling, you've let the doubts plague your mind. Miss Edwina would not have called off a wedding hosted by Her Majesty if she did not believe Anthony loved you. I know you're afraid... Heartbreak is terrifying. But how will you know if you don't take risks? Take it from someone who did not take a chance on the one she loved... and now spends most days wondering what could've been." Dolly squeezed his hands once more.

(Y/N) wiped away the tear trailing down his cheek with his shoulder and sniffled. Dolly was right, that he knew. He couldn't let fear guide him forever. He had to trust himself and his heart. He had to trust Anthony and his words. He had seen something in Anthony had Somerset House, something that had pulled him toward the Bridgerton.

(Y/N) looked forward and bit back the smile toying on his lips, clearing his throat softly. “Is the painting to your liking, My Lord?” (Y/N) asked, seeing him turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye. (Y/N) kept his gaze on the painting and smiled fondly at the memories it came with. The painting was of Primrose Hill at sunset; when the sun would cast lovely shades of soft pink and warm orange against the shimmering water.

“It is quite lovely, Mr. Granville. I don’t believe we’ve ever been acquainted, have we?”

“We have not, I’m afraid. Lovely to meet you, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Please, call me Anthony, I insist.” (Y/N) turned to look at him and felt his skin lightly flush. As handsome as the ladies made him out to be, but he had a past of being arrogant and belittling.

“It’s impressive how much talent you posses at the mere age of..”

“Five and twenty, My Lord.”

(Y/N) had been so unprepared for what would happen over the course of a couple of months. But the more (Y/N) thought about his time spent with the Bridgerton, the more he realized that he wouldn't change a thing if he could go back. Even if it meant having to go through heartache once more because of Anthony. Even if it meant disobeying his father again and being the source of his disappointment.

"I suppose... We'll see how he truly feels." (Y/N) smiled at Dolly. She smiled widely and brought him in for a hug, sighing softly as she rubbed his back. She pulled back, giving his shoulders a squeeze.

"The Featheringtons are hosting a ball-"

"The Featheringtons?"

"Yes, I know, shocking. But, I heard they've invited everyone, including the Bridgertons and Sharmas. While the chances of Lord Bridgerton attending are low, if he does, you'll be able to speak with him." Dolly told him, running her hands down his arms. "If you're feeling well, perhaps we can convince your parents to allow you to go."

"It'll be a battle, for sure." (Y/N) laughed softly, smiling as he leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers.

"Thank you. For everything you've done for me, Dolly." (Y/N) whispered. "You do not get nearly as much credit as you deserve."

"Being part of this family is enough for me." Dolly smiled, pulling back and cupping his cheek. Her eyes watered and she chuckled softly. "You are the child I never got to have." She added, voice cracking toward the never of her sentence. A life filled serving the Granville family and she spent half of it raising a child. Dolly was a mother just as much as Lucy. They all knew that.

Sighing breathily, Dolly stood up and collected the dirty dishes on the nightstand, giving him one last smile before she left the room, greeting Lucy and Henry quietly as she walked past them. The two entered the bedroom and Henry lit the candle on the nightstand as Lucy took a seat on the bed.

"It's shameful for me to say that I did not realize certain things until I stood in this room and wondered if I'd ever see your eyes again." Lucy began, cupping her hands on her lap and staring forward. (Y/N) leaned back into the pillows, glancing between his parents silently. Lucy inhaled and turned toward her son.

"I failed you... As a mother, I failed you in every aspect. I was so caught up in wanting to be like the other mothers of the ton that I realized... I wasn't necessarily ready for a child. I felt as if I needed to prove I was as much a woman as the rest of them by having a child and in the end, I barely know you. I don't remember your first steps or your first words. I don't remember which lessons you excelled at as a child or which ones you had difficulties with. I- I... I have... no excuses. I made a choice when I approached Henry about having a child. I made a choice when I didn't play with you or when I didn't bring you around to the houses of my friends so you could play with their kids. I'd be lying if I said I had a role in the man you are today. And I am so sorry that I didn't try harder. That I didn't put you first above all else. I failed you, I admit that to you. And I hope that you forgive me, even if I don't deserve it. I was selfish and you deserved better." Lucy pressed her lips together and wiped her runny nose, the tears slipping from her cheeks and onto her nightgown.

"I forgive you." (Y/N) murmured, feeling his own warm tears coat his cheeks in wetness. It'd taken twenty-five years for him to receive an apology for his treatment, for his childhood, for the gaping hole in his heart wishing to be filled. While part of him wanted to hold onto the anger and bitterness, the relief of finally being seen and acknowledged washed those feelings away. Lucy gently took his hand into her own and held it, sniffling softly.

"I love you, dearest." She smiled and stood, releasing his hand. Lucy gently patted her husband's arm and made her way out of the room, leaving father and son alone. Henry remained standing beside the nightstand, fiddling with his fingers and avoiding his sons' gaze. He sighed softly, running his finger over his wedding ring.

"I owe you an apology as well. I wasn't the father you needed, I realized this much earlier than Lucy and attempted to make up for it by trying to protect you. I ran from you and from my responsibilities when you were born. I traveled to distract myself from my duties as a father and then... When I saw you were just a little kid... Just a little being in need of me and your mother, I... I tried to do better. I taught you what I could and tried to shield you from society but..." Henry swallowed and shook his head, lifting his gaze to look at his son.

"I also failed you and when I realized it, I grew angry at myself. I was never disappointed in you. You're young and you'll make mistakes. I was afraid of what that could mean and forgot that I was once in your shoes trying to make sense of myself and trying to figure out what love was. I should've done better. I should've listened to you more. For that, I am so sorry."

"All I ever wanted was for you and Mother to love me... And I know you do, but it feels good to finally get an apology after years of wondering if I was just asking for too much."

"You were never asking for too much, (Y/N). You were a child who needed his parents. We love you, no matter what you choose to do."

ꕤ ꕤ ꕤ ꕤ ꕤ ꕤ

(Y/N) felt guilty admitting he hadn't been expecting much from the Featheringtons. Sure, he knew Lady Featherington wouldn't have wanted anything less than perfection, but considering the turbulent year they'd had combined with the new Lord Featherington, he figured they would've waited for next year to host a ball. Though, he supposed, the Featheringtons were always full of surprises. The room had been lightly decorated but the food and refreshment tables were worth salivating over. Of course, the most eye-catching thing they had must've been the stand where the musicians played. (Y/N) couldn't help but wonder if they were dizzy, especially considering the fact it actively rotated.

"Ah, it is a pleasure to see you are alright, Mr. Granville. It is quite kind of you to join us after spending so long bedridden. I do hope you're feeling better." What she truly meant was; I hope you didn't come while still ill. No matter how hard she tried, Lady Featherington had always been easier to read than most. Nonetheless, (Y/N) smiled.

"Thank you for your concern, Lady Featherington. I'm feeling quite alright." He assured and she relaxed, nodding and addressing his mother. Lucy glanced back at him as she left his side to chat with their hostess. It was a mystery how women could so easily pretend to enjoy each other's company.

Looking away from the two women, he spotted Kate and Edwina standing side by side, having what appeared to be a pleasant conversation. (Y/N) hummed and smiled. They'd finally put the betrayal behind them, it seemed. (Y/N) began making his way toward them and chuckled when Kate's face lit up at the sight of him. She looked stunning in her orange bejeweled dress and perfectly done hair.

"Oh, how good it is to see you. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to catch you before I left."

"You're still leaving for India?"

"I'm afraid so." Kate nodded with an apologetic frown. "But, fret not. I promise I'll continue writing to you." Kate's frown turned into a playful smile and she glanced at Edwina, looping her arm around hers. Edwina smiled in return and glanced toward the dancefloor, getting a sudden twinkle in her eye.

"How about a dance, Kate?" She questioned, wasting no time pulling her onto the dancefloor alongside the unsuspecting couples. (Y/N) chuckled as he watched them, almost missing the person staring at him from across the room. Anthony Bridgerton. Anthonys' gaze softened significantly and he leaned over to whisper something to his mother before slowly making his way around the room. (Y/N) turned his attention back onto the sisters, watching Anthony from the corner of his eye until the Bridgerton stood right beside him. The two remained silent, even after the dance ended and another began.

"It's good to see you on your feet."

"It's good to be on my feet." (Y/N) smiled, turning his head to look at him. Anthonys' shoulders deflated as he exhaled softly, eyes scanning his face, almost as if making sure (Y/N) looked okay.

"I can't imagine the fright you must've had. I apologize for the inconvenience."

"There's no need." Anthony dismissed quickly, shaking his head. "I assure you... There's no need to apologize. I am simply glad to know you are well."

"You've always been such a good friend to me, Anthony. Even going as far to play doctor for a day." (Y/N) teased lightly, chuckling when a grin broke out on Anthonys' face.

"Yes, well... I must admit I think I did a pretty decent job at it."

"Ah, did you now?" (Y/N) raised his brows and shifted his body toward him, crossing his arms. Anthony laughed softly and nodded, cocking his head.

"Don't believe me?" He raised his hand and held up two fingers. "How many?"

"Two." (Y/N) answered, only for Anthony to turn his hand and lift another finger in the process so there were three fingers instead. (Y/N) rolled his eyes and smiled widely, looking back toward the dancefloor as couples began to get into position.

"Mr. Granville, would you like to dance?" Anthony asked and (Y/N) blinked, turning his head to look back at him. He furrowed his brows, glancing toward the other guests around them.

"What are you talking about?"

"Right here, right now. Would you do me the honor?" (Y/N)s' lips parted as he stared at Anthony. Not a shred of doubt on his face. He swallowed. Could they really get in trouble for merely dancing?

"You can say no if you-"

"I'll dance." (Y/N) breathed and nodded. Anthony smiled once more and offered him his hand, pulling him onto the dancefloor when he took it. He could feel the gazes of everyone in the room shift onto them, whispering and murmuring erupting from the guests. The music began playing and (Y/N) took Anthonys' other hand, following along with the dance, even as the other couples glanced back toward them and stopped dancing.

"Just keep your eyes on me," Anthony whispered, and (Y/N) nodded. But eventually, they weren't alone. (Y/N) glanced over his shoulder at Edwina and Kate as they danced once more, the two sending them a supportive smile. (Y/N) released a breath and looked back at Anthony, feeling less anxious and more confident.

"Why is no one else dancing?" (Y/N) swore his heart skipped a beat as Her Majesty's voice echoed through the room. She didn't care, (Y/N) realized. She didn't care that two men were dancing together in public, in her presence. And when he looked in her direction, he only saw a genuine, pleased smile on her face. The very thing he needed to fully relax and enjoy himself, letting himself be immersed in the dance with Anthony. Taking his hand once more, the two stared into each other's eyes as the music came to a stop and the dance ended. They stepped apart and (Y/N) released his hand as Lady Featherington hurried into the room claiming she had a surprise for everyone waiting outside. (Y/N) turned his head when the Queen stopped beside them, her knowing smile telling them everything they needed to know. She continued on her way, her ladies-in-waiting quickly following after her. Once she had exited, so did the rest of the quests.

"I'll see you outside." (Y/N) said and turned, joining the crowd as they stepped outside into the garden. He slipped through the crowd and ignored the pointed stares and whispers. He didn't care about the rumors, not anymore. The Queen herself knew and she did not give a damn. So why should he? The people of the ton had and always would be cowards who hid behind their riches and looked down upon others. But (Y/N) had found something genuine and with the Queen's approval at that.

Chuckling to himself, he found a more secluded spot, away from the others where he could watch whatever surprise Lady Featherington had in store for them. Fireworks, most likely. Or perhaps some singers. (Y/N) inhaled the fresh night air and looked up at the sky. Peace, at last.

"You must really love to play cat and mouse, Mr. Granville."

"It's my favorite game." (Y/N) responded and turned to face Anthony, watching him approach. Anthony smirked and nodded, drawing closer until they were face to face.

"I was told what you planned to do once you reached my grandfathers' estate." (Y/N) revealed softly and Anthonys' face fell. "I'll admit, I had my doubts but... If it's true.."

"Yes, everything was true. I love you, and it has taken me far too long to tell you. I've loved you since the day you walked into my life and smiled at me. I love everything about you. I love your passion, your talent, and your kindness. You are everything I want in a person, in a lover, in a spouse. While we wouldn't be married in the eyes of the church and on paper, we would be married to our family and friends. The people who truly matter. You do not have to say yes-" (Y/N) leaned in as the fireworks were lit and set off into the sky, illuminating the two as the guests cheered and watched the fireworks in awe.

Pulling back and chuckling softly at the lovestruck look on his face, (Y/N) smiled and placed a hand on his cheek. "You may be an insufferable bastard sometimes... But my answer will always be yes." He cooed and Anthony smiled widely, leaning into his palm and placing a delicate kiss on his wrist. (Y/N) felt his heart warm and he turned his head to look up at the fireworks, resting his head against Anthonys' chest when he pulled him closer.

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(Y/N) shivered, feeling fingers dancing up his spine. He buried his face further into the pillow, hearing Anthony snicker. The bed shifted as Anthony scooted closer to him, pressing soft kisses along his shoulders and up his neck until he reached his ear. (Y/N) couldn't help but smile.

"You must get up, (Y/N). Everyone's waiting for us. Besides, don't you want to see your surprise?" He cooed into his ear, gently nipping his earlobe. (Y/N) squeaked and released a muffled laugh, raising a hand up to his ear and rolling over onto his back, face scrunching up when the sun hit his eyes. Anthony smiled and leaned down, greeting his husband with a kiss. (Y/N) melted, hands gently cupping Anthonys' face.

"Good morning, my love," Anthony murmured, swooping down to pepper airy kisses to his neck.

"I thought you said we had to go?" (Y/N) laughed softly and pushed him back by his shoulders, lifting his brows up at him. Anthony shrugged innocently and grinned.

"Yes, but I'm sure they can wait a little while longer."

"Mhm, come on." (Y/N) shook his head, lightly pecking the tip of Anthonys' nose and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He heard Anthony groan softly and glanced back at him, snorting when Anthony dramatically collapsed back onto the bed, sprawled out and with a pout on his face. (Y/N) collected his clothes from the floor and set them in a pile for the maids to take before he searched for a new set of clothes, getting dressed whilst Anthony watched him.

"Weren't you making a big fuss about my surprise?" (Y/N) questioned, getting some of Anthonys' clothes out and setting them on the bed for him. Anthony sighed heavily and dragged himself out of bed, picking up his shirt and leaning over to give him another kiss before he got dressed as well.

"Give me a hint."

"No."

"Please?" (Y/N) pouted, arms wrapping around Anthonys' waist but the Viscount shook his head, one arm wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him toward the door. (Y/N) huffed softly and leaned his head back onto Anthonys' shoulder. The two walked down the halls of Aubrey Hall; the very place they'd had their loving ceremony. Anthony had kept (Y/N) occupied for days, refusing to leave the bed unless absolutely necessary. A new yet welcomed side to Anthony.

Heading down the stairs, (Y/N) nodded to one of the servants as they opened the doors for the couple. (Y/N) cringed and shut his eyes when the sun greeted them, taking a moment to adjust to the brightness before he peered down at the people below. The Bridgertons and Granvilles awaited them, along with three new figures. (Y/N) furrowed his brows and squinted at the familiar purple dress, only to gasp and smile widely, detaching himself from Anthony and practically flying down the stairs.

"Kate!"

"(Y/N)!" Kate squealed, releasing a surprised laugh when she was picked up, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders as he spun her in a circle. (Y/N) gently set her back down and pulled back, looking back toward the amused Anthony.

"Was this your surprise?"

"I rallied the Sharmas after hearing how much the two of you missed each other," Anthony responded cooly, looking rather proud of himself as he placed his hands on his hips and grinned at them. Kate rolled her eyes and scoffed lightly, leaning in slightly.

"He hardly did anything." She whispered, leaning back and crossing her arms.

"I believe that." (Y/N) laughed and turned to look at Lady Sharma and Edwina, greeting the two of them with smiles. Anthony slithered his arms around (Y/N)s' waist and pulled him back against his chest, looking back at his siblings as they raced to grab their favorite mallets. Edwina and Kate laughed, looping their arms together and retrieving their own mallets as the parents took their seats a safe distance away. Anthony pressed a kiss to his cheek and reached for the black mallet, only for (Y/N) to scoop it up, leaving him with the baby blue one. Anthony squinted at (Y/N) and shook his head, taking the last mallet and facing his family.

Daphne smiled wickedly, swinging her mallet over her shoulder and placing her hand on her hip. "Who's ready to lose again?" A chorus of protests erupted from the crowd and (Y/N) chuckled, turning his head to look at Anthony.

"Hey, Anthony?"

"Mhm?"

"I love you."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #bridgerton x male reader #bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x reader #Anthony bridgerton x male reader #kate sharma #Violet Bridgerton #Daphne Bridgerton #edwina sharma #lucy granville #henry granville #the sun and moon

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livingdreams97 · 8 months ago

Text

Eloise Bridgerton - "The Prince" (Part 4)

Eloise Bridgerton x Male reader/oc

Summary: Two people who have never seen each other before, with the same need and desire to be free in different ways. What could come of that when both people meet each other?

Words: 4.581

Masterlist

Eloise's POV

A couple of hours ago my family arrived at Aubrey Hall and my youngest silings were running around the place like wild animals. My brothers have disappeared and Daphne is with mother, Lady Danbury, Kate and Edwina talking about the season somewhere around the house.

Which left me alone, sitting on an outdoor chair in the mansion's back garden and somewhat bored.

I did not want to participate in the conversation with my sister, mother and others; since the subject does not really interest me. I'd rather be with my brothers, but as soon as we set foot in Aubrey Hall two hours ago they disappeared and have shown no sign of life.

And I'm not going to be running all over the place, like Gregory and Hyacinth were doing.

I just pray that something interesting happens and it can keep me busy at least for a while. Because if this goes on like this, I'll end up cutting myself with the pages of my books and falling apart in the living room floor.

Apparently my prayers are answered, when one of the butlers appears and speaks to me.

XY: Miss Bridgerton, Prince Y/n of Hannover has just arrived and is waiting for you in the hall.- he informed me and I practically jumped out of my seat.

Eloise: That's great. - I comment happily and walking quickly towards the entrance of the mansion.

XY: If you don't need anything else, we'll take the prince's objects to his room assigned by Lady Bridgerton.- he comments when we reach the hall.

Eloise: We don't need anything else, thank you.- I thank him and after a slight bow he takes Y/n's luggage along with another man. -I thought you were never going to get there.- I say amused, crossing my arms and looking at the prince.

Y/n: I had a slight setback.- He informed me without much detail.

Eloise: What kind of setback? - I ask curiously, seeing the amusement in his eyes.

Y/n: One that doesn't concern you.- he answers me with grace and I just look at him badly. -Now, will you grant me the wish to give me a guided tour of the mansion or do I have to ask someone from the service?- he asks amused, raising an eyebrow and looking me straight in the eye.

Eloise: Ask someone from the service.- I answer challengingly, looking for a fun and entertaining reaction from him.

Y/n: I'll do that then.- he assures, leaning over and trying to walk towards the stairs.

Eloise: Where do you think you're going? - I ask amused running towards him and grabbing his arm to stop him.

Y/n: To ask if someone offers to give me a guided tour, since a certain Bridgerton doesn't want to and I don't want to get lost in the place.- he answers humorously and I look at him with narrowed eyes.

Eloise: Idiot.- I muttered hitting his arm. -Now follow me.- I order him and start walking towards the main hall.

I don't turn to see if he's following me or not, but I can hear his hurried footsteps and I smile helplessly, not knowing the reason for said smile.

POV Y/n

I don't know when I went from receiving a tour of the mansion to being in the huge back garden playing pall mall, but here I am now.

Daphne: We all know how the pall mall works.- she assures everyone present. - The first to choose the deck and strike first will be our guest Y/n.- she points to me with her hand and I look at her surprised.

Y/n: I guess thanks.- I appreciate it. -Which one does Eloise usually choose?- I asked Benedict in a whisper quickly.

Benedict: Yellow.- he whispers back to me with his hand in front of his mouth so that no one notices.

I nod surreptitiously and walk over to where all the decks are. I look at each deck and once my eyes land on the yellow one, I reach out without hesitation.

As my fingers wrap around the wood, I look up, meeting Eloise's blue gaze. I smile wickedly as I raised the mallet and I see the scowl on her face.

Y/n: Yellow is my favorite color. - I lie with a smile without taking my eyes off Eloise's.

The rest practically fight over the rest of the decks, before we start the game and the fights between the brothers are present.

Benedict: Eloise don't cheat.- he accuses his sister, who is moving her ball subtly and secretly with her foot.

Y/n: So besides being clumsy at dancing, you're a cheater at the game. - I whisper leaning towards her, so that only she can hear me.

Eloise: Shut up.- she growls at me pushing my chest with her hand.

Colin: Observe and learn people.- he says, positioning himself and hitting the ball with his mallet, but it doesn't go through the hoop.

Anthony: Sorry, what were you saying?- he asks his brother with an amused smile.

Kate: Don't you laugh so much.- she tells her husband, causing a bad face in him and laughter in the rest.

Daphne: None of you should laugh.- she assures everyone, preparing to her his ball with the mallet. -Because I plan to win as always.- she says confidently, hitting the ball and getting it through the hoop.

Benedict: Hey, I'm still in the game.- he reminds his sister with an amused smile.

Eloise: And me.- she assures them placing herself in the middle of everyone. -This year I plan to win.- she tells us all with confidence and I can't help but smile at her confidence.

We continue playing for a while longer, until the game ends and I end up winning to the surprise of everyone present. Although there is no surprise on my part, since I am a very good player and I am passionate about sports.

Y/n: And how about your victory Eloise? - I ask her amused while we all have dinner together.

Eloise: Very funny.- she says sarcastically looking at me with narrowed eyes. -But I know you cheated.- she threatens me seriously.

Y/n: And can you explain to me what cheating are you accusing me of? - I ask her amused, taking a sip of my wine.

Elosie: I don't know, yet.- she answered thoughtfully. -But I'm going to find out how you cheated to win and take away my victory.- she asures me and I just smile delighted.

Y/n: I'll be waiting then.- I assure her with a friendly smile.

The rest of dinner is spent talking to Benedict and Colin about minor trivia. We also make sure to taunt Eloise a bit, loud enough for her to hear us so we can tease her a bit.

When dinner is over, I sneak up to Lady Bridgerton and ask to speak to her in private. We entered the main library of the mansion and we both took a seat in the armchairs of the room.

Violet: And tell me my Lord, what is the reason for this conversation? - she asks me with evident interest.

Y/n: I wanted to talk about a serious and more important topic with you.- I answer trying to hide my nervousness.

Violet: Well, you will say.- she nods giving me the floor.

Y/n: As you may have noticed, I've been spending a lot of time with your daughter and it's clear that we've become somewhat close.- I start seeing how she nods with a small smile. -And I don't want to disrespect you or your family at any time.- I say trying to think of how to explain myself.

Violet: And you haven't.- she assures me with a friendly smile.

Y/n: I'm glad to hear that.- I nod with a nervous smile. -That's why I wanted to talk to you first, because you are Eloise's mother and it seemed the most appropriate thing to do in this situation.- I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. -I wanted to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage.- I ask directly.

Violet: Oh my god! - she exclaims in surprise, covering her mouth with her hand.

The room remains completely silent for a few moments, where I play with my hands as a sign of nervousness and uncertainty about the response of the woman in front of me.

Y/n: So what do you say? - I ask her a bit uncomfortable by the silence.

Violet: Of course I'll give you my daughter's hand.- she nods energetically. -As long as Eloise agrees to the proposition, I have nothing against it.- she confirms and I can't help but release the air retained inside me.

Y/n: I'm glad to know that your answer is positive. - I smile letting the retained nerves dissipate from my body.

Now I just have to propose to Eloise publicly and organize the wedding. Since thanks to our agreement, I know that Eloise will agree to marry me and there will be no problem with that part.

Violet: And you already have chosen the ring? - She asks me interested, leaning forward in a show of interest.

Y/n: Yes.- I nod, taking the black velvet box out of my pocket. -What do you think?- I ask, opening the box and showing her the object inside.

Violet: Oh my god, it's so precious.- she whispers, taking the small box in her hands and looking at the ring in greater detail.

Y/n: My aunt gave it to me to propose to your daughter.- I comment, seeing the surprise in her eyes.

Violet: Has the queen chosen the ring for my daughter?- she asks surprised.

Y/n: More than that.- I commented with a slight smile. -That ring was one of the first that my uncle, the King, gave to my aunt many years ago. The emerald is my aunt's favorite stone and she thought that the ring had a deep meaning, so it would be the perfect ring for my future wife. - I tell her and I can see a different shine in her eyes.

Violet: And she's right. Rings with meaning are more unique than any recently bought. - she nods, giving me back the box with the ring.

Y/n: So with your permission, tomorrow I'll ask Eloise for her hand. - I nod, putting the velvet box back in my jacket pocket.

Violet: I just hope my daughter says yes, because it would be a pleasure to have you as part of the family.- she tells me and we both get up, ending the conversation.

We left the library, saying goodnight and parting ways. I head towards the bedroom assigned to me and on the way I meet Eloise with her little sister.

In order not to arouse any kind of suspicion, I wish them both a good night and secretly nod to my future fiancée.

I can see her eyes widen slightly as she realizes what my nod means and she gives me a slight nod letting me know she's understood.

Now I just have to think about how to ask for her hand tomorrow and do it in a way so that her family believes that we are really in love. But with how good of an actress Eloise is, I'm sure everyone will believe us right away without any problem.

Eloise's POV

I'm nervous. Why am I nervous? This is simply a trade and there is no reason to be nervous.

I just have to say a simple yes and the rest of my life will be taken care of. I will be completely free and I will stop feeling any kind of pressure to get married or find a husband. It is a simple word that will open all doors for me.

This is a simple transaction, there are no feelings involved and that's why I don't understand the reason for my nerves.

My hands tremble as they caress the soft fabric of my white dress, feeling the softness and delicacy of silk.

Violet: You look beautiful honey.- she whispers looking at my reflection in the mirror over my shoulder.

Eloise: I'm not going out. - I deny energetically.

Violet: And why is that dear? - she asks me interested with a smile on her face.

Eloise: I don't know if I'm ready to get married.- I answer, feeling my heart beat faster.

Violet: Oh dear.- she sighs placing her hands on my arms. -It's the nerves that are speaking.- she assures me caressing my arms with affection.

Eloise: Why would I be nervous? - I ask confused, feeling a certain amount of comfort from her touch.

Violet: Because it's one of the most important days for a woman, darling.- she answers with an understanding look. -The day of my wedding with your father, I was trembling with nerves and anticipation. It is understandable to feel nervous on your wedding day and especially when you love the person you will marry.- she tries to comfort me and I avoid opening my eyes for the last part.

Eloise: How did you know you loved father? - I ask a little scared by her answer.

Violet: I wouldn't know how to explain it.- she sighs with a slight grimace. -What I do know is that every time I thought of him, a smile appeared on my face without even noticing it, my stomach turned when he was near me, my skin quivered every time he touched my hand and every time that I was doing something i liked; immediately I wanted to share it with him.- she tells me and I remain thoughtful.

I think about the times when a smile adorned my face when I thought of Y/n, about how being with him makes me enjoy someone else's company and the long talks we have.

I think about how an essential warmth invades my body when he is near me, when he smiles at me or when he brings me books thinking that I might like them.

I find that every time I read a new book, I think about whether he would like to read it so we can discuss it together.

Finally, I am aware of how in the few times he has touched my hand and kissed it, my body reacts to his touch. I can remember the pleasant tingling that runs through my body at his touch and it is now when I open my eyes in surprise.

Eloise: I love Y/n.- I murmured without really knowing what to do.

I feel my mind go around and around without really knowing how it happened. At what point have I gone from supporting Y/n, accepting his proposal and maintaining a friendly relationship, to loving him.

Violet: Why else would you have agreed to marry him?- she asks with a certain degree of amusement in her tone of voice.

Eloise: I have to talk to Y/n.- I say alarmed.

Violet: You'll see him at the altar in a few minutes and then you can talk to him all you want.- she assures me with a smile.

Eloise: No mom .- I deny turning around and looking around upset. -I need to talk to him now!- I assured him in a hurry trying to dodge her and go looking for him.

Violet: No, no, no.- she denies grabbing my arm and preventing me from leaving the room. -The groom can't see the bride before the wedding.- she immediately denies.

Eloise: You don't understand mom, I have to talk to him.- I beg desperately and a few seconds away from a desperate cry.

Violet: Honey, calm down.- she asks me, caressing my arms again. -Take a deep breath and inhale slowly.- she orders me and I nod trying to regulate my breathing.

Once I am calmer, my mother takes me to the sofa in one of the many rooms in the palace and makes me sit down.

Violet: Are you feeling better?- she asks me and I nod, taking a deep breath once more.

Eloise: Yes.- I murmur directing my gaze to my hands, which are still trembling and apparently my mother notices as she places her hands on mine.

Violet: You don't have to get upset darling, everything will be fine and you don't have to get so nervous.- she assures me. -You're just nervous, just breathe and try to relax.- she tells me and I nod trying to stop my hands from shaking.

We stay in silence for a few minutes, where I manage to calm down enough so that my hands stop shaking.

Some light knocks are heard at the door of the room and Benedict's head appears through it.

Benedict: Everything is ready.- he tells us entering the room. -They are waiting for the bride.- he says with a smile and I take a deep breath.

Violet: Are you ready? - she asks me and I am only able to nod. -Well then, let's get going.- she says getting up from the sofa and helping me to get up too.

I walk to where my brother is, who immediately smiles at me and gives me his arm to intertwine with mine.

With each step I take toward the ceremony room, my heart pounding in my ears and my breathing becoming heavy. I swallow heavily, when my brother stops in front of the closed living room doors and looks at me for approval.

I stay for a few moments watching the big white doors of the room, as soon as they open everything will be real and I'll be walking towards my future husband.

I don't know what to do.

If I go through with the plan and say yes, I'll be marrying the man I love. But he doesn't love me and it doesn't seem fair.

And on the other hand, if I decide to run away and leave the plan behind, everyone will start talking about me and my family again. My family has already suffered a lot with the rumors and above all thanks to me.

Plus it wouldn't be the first time a Bridgerton wedding has been called off and we all know how that ended.

But that is not the worst.

The worst thing is that this time the queen is not only the hostess of the wedding, but she is the aunt of the future husband and that will cause me to be banished from London.

Because what Lady Whistledown wrote about me being a political radical turned her against me and made her have a bad opinion of me. I don't want to imagine the opinion she'll have of me if I leave her heir standing at the altar.

Benedict: Are you okay? - he asks me in a whisper taking me out of my thoughts.

Eloise: I don't know.- I answer honestly.

Benedict: It's not too late, you know right? - he asks me causing me to look at him confused.

Eloise: Late for what? - I ask wanting to understand what my brother tells me.

Benedict: Too late to cancel the wedding.- he answers me with a comforting smile. -Just tell me and we'll run away like no one has ever done before.- he assures me with a small laugh.

I watch him for a few seconds, considering the offer and weighing every possible outcome of my escape. The idea sounds tempting and I'm sure Benedict will defend me and help with everything.

You're POV

I swallow heavily, running my hands through my morning coat and wiping the sweat from my hands. I watch the guests talk to each other in whispers, causing my nervousness to increase and a knot to form in my stomach.

Lady Bridgerton has entered the room almost ten minutes ago, but she has entered alone and no one has entered after her.

She's supposed to be with Eloise, to help her get ready and her presence here assures me that Eloise is ready. But it doesn't show up anywhere, because she is nowhere to be seen.

I look over to where my aunt is sitting for comfort, seeing the impatience and worried look on her face. She seems to notice my look, as she offers me a small smile and a reassuring nod.

But I can't calm down when I feel hundreds of eyes on me and I can hear the murmurs of those present.

My gaze then falls on where the Bridgertons are sitting, muttering and talking a little erratically to each other. That alarms me even more.

What if Eloise regrets the deal and backs out? What if she leaves me standing at the altar?

That would explain the lateness and the stressed look on the face of the Bridgertons family matriarch. Maybe she already knows and is telling the rest of the family.

My breath stops when the doors of the room open and one of my aunt's waiters enters the room.

XY: Miss Eloise Bridgerton by the hands of Mr. Benedict Bridgerton.- he announces and I can feel myself breathing again.

But as soon as I start to breathe, the air gets stuck in my throat and it's because of something else entirely.

My mind goes completely blank as I see Eloise in her wedding dress with her hair up in a high bun. The light that enters through the windows of the room illuminates her dress and she looks like a complete angel.

The train of the dress trails gently across the floor, as does her veil, which rests just in front of the updo on her head and at the beginning of the train of her dress.

I'm not aware of the moment when Eloise has reached my side and Benedict offers me her hand. I'm only aware when my soon-to-be wife's brother clears his throat and the noise snaps me out of my reverie.

Y/n: Sorry.- I whisper embarrassed, feeling the heat flood my cheeks and receiving my fiancée's hand.

Benedict: Take care of her.- he threatens me seriously, before walking away and sitting with the rest of the family.

Priest: We are gathered here to celebrate the union between Prince Y/n of Hannover and Miss Eloise Bridgerton.- he begins to speak, but I only observe Eloise's profile and try to be as discrete as possible. -Love is something... ... ... ....- He speaks but I ignore him, looking only at the woman to my left. -Now I want you to repeat with me, you first prince. With this ring, I take you Eloise Bridgerton as my wife, to love you and take care of you in sickness and in health, in riches and in poverty until death do us part.- he says and I look at the priest paying attention to him again .

Y/n: With this ring, I take you Eloise Bridgerton as my wife, to love you and take care of you in sickness and in health, in riches and in poverty until death do us part.- I recite while staring at her eyes, receiving the ring from the priest and placing it on her finger.

Priest: Now your tourn Miss Bridgerton.- he says, offering her the other ring and I can see how she takes it with a trembling hand.

Eloise: With this ring, I take you Y/n from Hannover as my husband, to love you and take care of you in sickness and in health, in riches and in poverty until death do us part.- she says nervously and shakily placing the ring on my finger.

Priest: With this exchange of rings, this marriage unites and will be consolidated with a kiss.- he says and I look nervously at the woman in front of me. -You can kiss each other.- he tells us.

I take a deep breath, before taking a step forward closing my eyes and leaning down feeling the erratic beating of my heart.

For a moment, my heart stops completely when my lips make contact with hers, and I can feel her breathing stop.

As we break from the kiss, I open my eyes to look at my now wife and see that she's still keeping them closed. I smile at the image and when she opens her eyes, she immediately smiles back at me.

I extend my hand to her, which she immediately entwines with hers and I direct her towards the large backyard where the celebration will take place.

Eloise: I have to talk to you.- she whispers so that only I can hear heron our walk outside.

Y/n: Bad or good? - I ask confused, smiling at the guests.

Eloise: It depends.- she answers me, doing the same action as me.

Y/n: Okay.- I nod almost imperceptibly.

But as soon as we set foot in the garden, people come to greet us and congratulate us on the wedding. Every time we try to get away so we can talk, someone steps up and stops that from happening.

But I take advantage of a moment when everyone is watching the fireworks, to grab Eloise by the hand and pull her behind some tall hedges a bit away from the crowd.

Y/n: What did you wanted to talk about? - I ask her in a whisper, not wanting to speak too loud and be heard.

Eloise: It's about the agreement.- she whispers, looking around making sure there's no one around.

Y/n: What about the agreement? - I ask completely confused.

Eloise: What happens if there is something that alters or changes the agreement? - she answers me with another question.

Y/n: I don't know.- I answer honestly. -I couldn't know if something could alter or change our agreement, if I don't know what it is about.- I clarify and see how she bites her lower lip nervously.

Eloise: Hypothetically speaking.- she clarifies nervously and I nod. -What would happen if one of the two parties ends up falling in love with the other party?- she asks, looking anywhere but at me and my heart races.

Y/n: Hypothetically speaking? - I ask and she nods. -That maybe the other party has also fallen in love.- I admit feeling the heat on my cheeks from shame.

She opens her eyes wide, directing her gaze to me and staring at me. I try to calm my heart; not wanting to have a heart attack.

Eloise: You...? - she asks me uncertainly, pointing to herself and I nod nervously.

Y/n: And you..? - I ask in the same way, pointing to me and she nods, joining her lips in a straight line.

Eloise: And now what? - she asks, avoiding my gaze and I decide to be brave.

I take two steps towards her, moving closer to her body and gently placing my hand on her chin. I force her head up and look at me, before I say what I've wanted to say for a month.

Y/n: Do you want to see the world with me? - I ask with a small nervous smile.

Eloise: Yes.- she nods with a slight redness on her cheeks after a couple of seconds.

I can't stand her closeness anymore, so I finish bringing my face closer to hers and I put our lips together again.

This time, the kiss is longer and lets us release all the feelings we had stored. My hands are placed on her waist, to be able to bring her closer to me and to be able to hug her by the hip against my body.

While her hands go up my arms and intertwine with each other at the nape of my neck.

We kiss until the air becomes necessary and we put our foreheads together to maintain the closeness between our faces.

Y/n: I love you.- I admit for the first time out loud without taking my eyes off hers.

Eloise: I love you.- she whispers and this time she is the one who brings our lips together in a hungry kiss.

If someone had told me that an agreed marriage proposal would have led me to meet the love of my life, I would never have believed it.

But fate is capricious and you never know where it will turn out.

But looking back from the backyard of my mansion with my wife, where I am playing with our four children and my beautiful wife is reading a book in a chair in the sun, that proposition was the wisest choice of my life.

THE END

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