Welcome to my lil corner of the internet! I’m here for the fanfiction of course, to read and to write. Currently writing for the bridgerton fandom, but I used to write for the criminal minds fandom. I’m definitely still open to requests for that!
I appreciate every ounce of interaction, whether that’s a message, a comment or simply just reblogging. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
I’m an open book myself, I’ll answer pretty much anything if you’re curious enough to ask.
F - fluff S - smut A - angst
☆ - one shot ♡ - series ◇ - headcannons
last updated - 10/05/2026
anthony bridgerton -----------
♡ more than honour - @plotbunnysynfrome | F.
⤷ a childhood spent under the same roof forged bonds of laughter, comfort, and camaraderie—but never anything more. or so you told yourself. but when anthony announces his intent to marry this season, and you find yourself pursued by a suitor of your own, the unspoken begins to unravel. now, amidst courtships, stolen glances, and a meddlesome family with a penchant for chaos, you must navigate the delicate line between duty and desire. you are not his choice. and yet…he cannot look away.
♡ tolerate it - @dayichor | A. F.
⤷ emma had always thought that marrying her childhood friend anthony bridgerton would be like a dream come true. marrying anthony bridgerton was a dream— one that soon turned out to be a nightmare.
♡ taming of the rake - @bosbas | F.
⤷ at her wit's end after anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. it's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well.
☆ don't blame me - @peachpitfics | S.
⤷ daphne bridgerton is your closest childhood friend, her eldest brother, anthony, is the love of your life. after avoiding each other for years, you both finally lose control.
☆ late night mischief - @sodooba | S.
⤷ reader gets dragged into a bit of late night mischief with the bridgerton siblings while anthony is away.
☆ tell me again - @skyrigel | F.
⤷ after a long day at work, anthony tells you how much he missed his wife
♡ cinderella story - @ladysharmaa | F. A.
⤷ y/n lost her father when she was very young, being in the care of her stepmother and sisters. however, they started to treat her like a maid. unable to attend the ball the bridgerton family is hosting, y/n tries to find ways to go, even if it is against the wish of her stepmother. there she meets anthony who is in search of a wife, but will he continue to want to be with her after finding out who she is?
☆ heir - @ladysharmaa | F.
⤷ telling anthony she's with child after facing difficulties getting pregnant
benedict bridgerton -----------
♡ bridgerton shade of blue - @dragon-kazansky | F.
⤷ benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. you decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. it seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
☆ patience is a virtue - @leviathanspain | F.
☆ wifey duties - @disasterofastory | F.
⤷ you go home to your husband after a night out with the ladies.
☆ the ultimate deception - @maximoff-pan | A. F.
⤷ you are a well known artist who paints under a pseudonym. what happens when lady whistledown comes to know of your identity? how will your relationship with benedict evolve?
☆ little things - @leviathanspain | F.
⤷ the brothers teasing has finally made its mark, and benedict can’t hold himself back anymore
☆ short and sweet - @trashywritestrash | F.
☆ benedict bridgerton x fem!reader - @jswizzlewrites | F.
⤷ you are in a courtship from benedict and keeping a secret that could end it all
☆ with child - @leascorner | A.
⤷ he was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. how hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? it was all within easy reach and never really yours.
colin bridgerton -----------
♡ lost in translation - @bosbas | F.
⤷ it took precisely two days in england for you to utterly despise colin bridgerton. it took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. but he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. you're set to marry someone else anyway, right?
☆ tempting fate - @frost-queen | A. F.
theo sharpe -----------
♡ lost in silence - @theregencywriter | F.
misc/multi -----------
◇ unexpectedly expecting - @ithebookhoarder | S.
☆ i need you - @ladysharmaa | F.
⤷ when a suitor breaks y/n’s heart, her family comforts her, reminding her that all she needs is her siblings’ love
☆ protector - @ladysharmaa | A.
⤷ while protecting daphne from an abusive suitor, y/n ends up getting hurt. her sisters and mother end up remembering some moments they spent with y/n
☆ forgotten - @ladysharmaa | A.
⤷ y/n is usually the forgotten in the family, but when she is stung by a bee, she realises how much all her family truly loves her
♡ diamond in the rough - @never--doubt | F.
⤷ after mourning the death of her husband, dowager baroness y/n marlowe decides she wants to remarry- for love this time. but when her three most prominent suitors just happen to be the three bridgerton brothers...there's no telling how the season will go.
Summary: Between social seasons, you are invited to Aubrey Hall to spend time with your best friend's family and their library.
Length: 2.6k
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Content Warnings: best friend's brother, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, orgasm, rejection.
a/n: this is a thoroughly requested prequel to Don't Blame Me
Bridgerton master list
You were over the moon when Lady Violet Bridgerton suggested Daphne invite you to Aubrey Hall in the off season for a few weeks. You had not been there for a while and it would be good to spend some quality time with your best friend. Your first year on the marriage mart was finished and with some success, Mama did not intend for you to marry in the first year with so few prospects with appropriate status. So instead, you tried to enjoy yourself, watching as others paired off and matches were made.
Aubrey Hall was a beautiful estate, with sprawling gardens which were usually kept extremely well, until the Bridgerton’s arrived and pall mall tournaments began. After the initial days of girlish excitement and competitive games of pall mall, the novelty wore off and the Bridgerton family settled into their time away from Mayfair, which gave you much needed peace. You were dying to find your favourite room in the house and cuddle up with a hundred books, never to be found again. Daphne would often sit and read also, but she tired easily and wound up in bed far before you. Clambering up the last set of stairs, you pushed the door open to a sheet covered room – the staff having not uncovered the library yet.
Pulling the dust covers down, exposing the gorgeous spines of all the books you had yet to read, you sighed happily. You opened the curtains properly, setting yourself upon the window seat with your first pick of the off season. The feel of the pages betwixt your fingers made you feel warm, your feet tucked up under you, comfortable and relaxed. Well, you were.
“I knew I would find you here” Anthony Bridgerton was leaning on the door frame, hands tucked behind his back, sly smile plastered on his face. He was young, attractive and your best friend’s brother. You were not supposed to love him, but you could not help it.
“I think every person on this whole estate knows where to find me; you are not so clever” Keeping your eyes steady on the words, playing disinterested and nonchalant your only defense. Anthony crossed in front of you and sat in the armchair, a small smile pulled at the corners when he garnered your inability to keep attention on your book.
“Is there something I can help you with my Lord?” You asked sensibly, with a hint of irritation. Anthonys body jostled as if to say no, his arrogantly handsome face contorted in a shrug.
Picking up a book from a pile you had curated for yourself, he appeared to begin reading it. Trying your best to pay no notice, you read the same sentence perhaps 10 times before breaking.
“What are you doing?” You asked, issued with a sour tone.
“I am doing what you are doing, reading” Anthony held a flat facial expression, portraying seriousness, when you both knew he was nothing of a reader. In fact, the only Bridgerton to truly understand your love of literature was Eloise. His eyes were lit with something you had not seen before. There was cheekiness in the slight curve of his lips that reminded you how badly you wanted to kiss him. Your eyes snapped back to your page, shaking your head to rid yourself of the thoughts.
No longer able to ignore him, you slammed your book shut, standing in a huff to storm out of the room; just as you turned to exit, Anthony Bridgerton grabbed your hand. Shock sizzled up your arm, resounding in the place where your skin met. Trying to convince yourself to pull your hand free was the hardest part – why were you allowing this? You asked yourself a dozen times in the space of a moment.
“I do not wish for you to go” Anthony said plainly, his facial features softer now, his hand clasped in yours, leading you back towards him.
“My Lord?” Your lower lip quivered, unsure of his intentions.
“I just…wanted to spend some time…with you…alone” Anthony stuttered, “Do you not wish the same?” His eyes were vulnerable, gentle, looking over you, searching for an answer. You slid your hand into his further and turned towards him acceptingly. Anthony led you back to the window seat, leaving you only to close the door to the library, and returning to your side hastily. Hands sliding curiously together again, Anthony’s body turned to yours, you noticed him lean in ever so slightly.
His lips met yours, quickly and apologetically, pulling away like he had done something wrong. Caressing the side of his face, you moved yourself to kiss him again, this time enthusiastically; better to demonstrate your interest, you thought. You could feel Anthonys smile in his kiss, warm and willing. Hands moved to your arms, shoulders and up to your neck, through your hair. Every kiss set fireworks off inside your body, your heart beating so loudly you thought Anthony might feel it in the closeness of your bodies.
For several weeks of this time away, and nearly every single day, Anthony Bridgerton had you sneaking away to kiss him. It was so thrilling, every day was a new adventure, and you easily fell more and more in love. So much so that you extended your stay to the entirety of the off season, with no complaints from your Mama or Lady Bridgerton.
A sadness began to sink into your bones, as the very last day had finally arrived. Tomorrow, you would all be going home. There would be new fitting appointments waiting, a whole new social season to broach, a husband to find. Tossing and turning, unable to sleep, you lit the candle next to your bed and slid into your slippers. If you were not going to sleep, you were going to read and spend the last of your time in the place that you loved most. The halls were so dark and quiet in the dead of night, chills ran down your spine as you thought about what lurked in the dark. With a spooked hop and a jump, you burst into the library and closed the doors hastily behind you. Unexpectedly, the library was well lit; and when you turned, Anthony stood by the fireplace, waiting.
“I told myself that if you came here tonight, that it was meant to be” Anthony’s face painted with a lick of pain. Perhaps he too was struggling with the idea of the holiday ending. Blowing out your candle, you set it down on a small table and walked surely towards him. Your bodies melded together, tightly squeezing each other as if you could not be pried apart. Anthony’s kiss was long and rich, his tongue slipping into your mouth expertly, as it had done every day since arriving here.
Anthonys eyes, filled with liquid heat, seared the bare skin of your chest; your night gown held in bunches by his fists as his lips dominated yours, pulling you closer. Your fingers laced in his long, mussed hair; you exerted a small squeak as Anthony lifted your body off the floor and wrapped your legs around him, slippers falling from your feet. He pressed you into the bookcase, his hardness pressed your stomach as his lips steadfastly enveloped your own. Involuntary gasps left you in the small moments he gave to breath, but nothing more unexpected than the uncontrollable sighs that he elicited as his smooth hands travelled up your inner thigh between you.
You were notorious in your household for never wearing undergarments and it drove your mama wild, not in the same way Anthony was now ravenous, however. Your bare skin sent him feral, his fingers delicately tracing your inner thighs and moving painfully over your sex. Anthony had always been a tease. His kisses became more articulate as he concentrated on what he was doing with his hands, two fingers extended, he slipped them into a pool of wetness he knew he created. With an unintentional groan, Anthony ceased kissing you and closed his eyes, taking this moment to commit every sin he was undertaking to memory. His eyes opened slowly, interlocking with your own, his pace quickened. Your body coiled, squirming against the bookshelves, as his relentless touch forced your body into over drive. Waves and waves of pleasure rocked you, your face nestled in the nape of Anthony’s neck, trying desperately not to scream out and failing. Anthony allowed you down, turned you around and helped you from the night gown you were so hoping he would get to see. He placed several cushions on the ground in front of the fireplace and laid you down.
You were completely nude now, Anthonys eyes raking over you, every notion of what he wanted to do to you clearly displayed on his face. You waited, anticipating getting to see him, finally; but Anthony did not begin removing his clothes, instead, he lay on his stomach, gazing up at you between your legs.
“I would like to show you something else” Anthony murmured hopefully, and you nodded in response, quick and trusting.
He lifted you toward him with ease, your knees closed, slight embarrassment washing over you for him being so close. He gently parted them, his face awfully close to your labia now. Heart smashing against your ribs, air caught in your throat, your entire body relaxed at the first long and delicious lick of Anthony’s tongue. Small whines escaped you, your hands found their way to his hair and your hips moved with the rhythm of his tongue, all of it, involuntary. Anthony made it so easy for you to lose control.
His tongue gliding up the center of you, stopped at your clitoris to lap indulgently; delectable disappointment filled you when he would stop momentarily to change his angle, only made better when he continued consuming you. His lips nipped and sucked at your clitoris, pulling it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. His hands on both your breasts, tugging softly at pert nipples, your body a live stick of dynamite, ready to blow at any second with his skilled treatment and care. Hands pressed to the back of his head, Anthony’s speed increased, lapping furiously at that specific spot he had found you liked most, his hand grasped your breast as you began writhing underneath him.
“Anthony, I cannot-:” You tried to warn him of your inability to keep this orgasm to yourself. His hand pulled from your breast and clamped over your mouth, thumb under your jaw as he drank you in. A tornado of fire barreled through your body, sweeping you up and tearing you down all at the same moment. Anthony slowed, lazily swirling his tongue; he seemed inebriated, the taste of you having wasted him. Every single thing he did with your body was satisfying to the nth degree.
He crawled up your body, hanging over you with that same cheeky look on his face. Kisses filled with the taste of you, Anthony pushed himself back on his knees between your legs.
“It feels like I have been dreaming of this for eternity” Anthony said, seriousness written into the lines on his face as he looked down upon you. He slowly removed his clothing, allowing you to watch. Your breath hitched, his gorgeous chest smattered with a little hair, the muscles in his arms and hips excited you. Anthony looked down at his breeches and his eyebrows raised slightly.
“Please do” You muttered, a little anticipatory smile forcing its way onto your face.
Anthony slid his hand into his breeches to undo the buttons, revealing himself to you in a timely fashion. Your lips parted with excitement, though your eyes blinked back fear.
“All will be well. Truly, it is not a scary as it…” Anthony looked between your face and his cock, “We do not have to do this” He offered sincerely. You shook your head fervently and gestured for him to continue.
His hands lifted your ass closer, adjusting your position and he pressed the tip of his cock to your sex. It felt divine, that feeling of anticipation, his forbidden skin on yours. He slid in a notch, you jolted unexpectedly, up on your elbows now, paying more attention.
“It might hurt a little, but I do not think too much” Anthony warned. You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. You were both in it now, you did not want to back out. His hands gingerly held you at your hips, pulling you closer and pushing into you at a snail’s pace, allowing your body to accept him in its own time. The more he filled you, the more your head lulled back and your eyes rolled. When he was to the hilt, he exhaled his stress and his body seemed to rid of tension.
Anthony’s hips drew back, and as his pressed forward, he groaned, “Oh god, y/n”. Your heart skipped a beat at hearing your name from his lips just so. There came a steady rhythm, easy and passionate; Anthony leaned down to plant his lips to yours, tongues swapping mouths and panting into each other. Your hands grasped for purchase at his shoulders and in his hair. His movements became more powerful, skillful, as if he knew exactly where he should be to make you beg for more. Clawing at his back, your sex tightened around him, that ruthless pleasure bounding back with a vengeance as he relentlessly thrust into you. Anthony silenced your orgasm with a deep and consuming kiss, your yelps echoing into his mouth, resound there for all time.
Anthony flipped your legs, turning you over onto your hands and knees, reefing your hips back onto him and pitching himself into you once more. This time, he was far more aggressive, and this positioning offered far more depth. He pulled you up from your hands, his cock plunging in and out of you, teeth nipping at your shoulder and his strong hand finding its way to your neck. Squeezing ever so lightly, Anthony’s thrusts turned wild, his other hand slapped to your labia in the heat of passion, anchoring you as close to him as possible. His face buried in your neck and hair, he let out a long, unbroken moan as his body spasmed involuntarily behind you, his cock pulsing inside you.
Both breathing heavily, leaning against one another, Anthony littered your neck and shoulder with soft kisses. Sweat gathered between you, the adrenaline having worn off and the heat of the fire becoming unbearable, you separated and turned to face him. Anthoy reached out and caressed your cheek, kissing you delicately on the lips.
“We should clean up and get to bed, we will be leaving in a few more hours for London” Anthony said, picking up pillows and throwing back onto the lounges.
“Wait,” You smiled, pulling him back down to you, “I love you Anthony”.
Anthony kissed you headily, before giving you a soft, knowing smile. But something changed in his mind, Anthony’s brow line furrowed, his face turned far more serious. He did not return your affections, instead he stood, picked up your night gown and handed it to you.
“I forget myself,” He murmured shamefully, “My deepest apologies, y/n” Anthony said quite finally, removing himself from the library, leaving you by the fire, night gown clutched to your exposed body, and vulnerable heart.
LOVE THE RECURRING THEME OF BRIDGERTON BROTHERS INITIALLY ENTERING THE RIGHT HOUSE BUT LEAVING WITH THE WRONG FAMILY MEMBER/SISTER. Anthony went into Lady Danbury's home and ended up engaged to Edwina. Colin entered Featherington Home to court Marina and not Penelope. AND BENEDICT WAS CORRECTLY DIRECTED TO PENWOOD HOUSE but went there for Posy although he is the first to break the pattern he didn't leave with Posy or Rosamund but he also didn't succeed BECAUSE HE LEFT EMPTY HANDED !!
God help Gregory he's not even going to get into the right house
violet really is the realest bc she's the only one brave enough to say "what if you get one of the million girls you're fucking pregnant you whore" to her son
What if when Anthony comes back from India Benedict still hasn’t figured out who the lady in silver is, and he’s all in his feelings about Sophie and then Anthony looks in his desks and just says “Ben, why are there so many drawings of the new lady’s maid wearing a mask in my desk?” And Benedict realizes and starts hyperventilating and Anthony’s just sitting there either thinking “we should’ve stayed in India” or “we can never leave them alone again”? Just a thought. I hope this is how it gets revealed.
Can we pretty please get a prequel of “Don’t blame me” with Anthony bridgerton? About their first time together (lots of smut pls hehe) and then the angst of him rejecting her afterward and then she moves away because of it (which kills anthony)
Love your writing 🥰
Hiiiyyyaaaa!
I'm happy to let you know that after selfishly disappearing for two years, I'm back for the social season and this old request is being fulfilled on the 8th of February!!
I hope you're still around to enjoy the prequel, my friend! Thank you so much for leaving this request, I hope it was worth the wait.
Summary: As the spinster chaperone of your youngest sister, you find yourself in desperate need of some fresh air. It does not take long for your best friend, Benedict Bridgerton, to find you.
The first draw of fresh air spreads deep into your lungs, the night air cool and a little damp. Dewed grass tickles to tops of your feet up under your gown, you look up to the faint sparkling stars in the sky and thank them for your finding this old spot of respite. Now, seven and twenty, you were finally free; or so at least you had thought, though you accompanied your youngest sister as her chaperone. She had begged and begged you not to leave her fate solely up to your mother, so here you were, on a swing in the Bridgerton house garden. The music and merriment of Lady Bridgerton’s masquerade ball echoed across the field, surely the cold and solitude were far more endurable than the deafening pressures of society. Turning away from the house, giving yourself slight momentum, you giggled lightly – it had been many, many years since you had found yourself on children’s swings.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” A familiar voice rang out behind you. You need not turn to know who.
“Mr. Bridgerton, you are going to cause your poor mother a heart attack one of these days” you said lightly. Benedict gave a laugh and sat beside you on the opposing swing.
“How did you know I was here to hide from my mother?” Benedict asked, a hint of sarcasm trailing his words.
“Well Ben, you are always hiding from your mother. You have been since you could walk.”
“It is true,” Benedict sighed, lighting a cigarette and drawing in deeply, “Though this year I do think she means to corner me with the bishop and hold my hand to some boring debutantes’ until he says, ‘I now pronounce you…’”. His voice was missing that airy quality it had always had. Something about him seemed more somber than normal, perhaps the pressure was affecting him the same way it had you.
His arm outstretched to pass over the cigarette, and you took it willingly, even if your mother cursed you in the carriage home for having done something so unladylike. Benedict had been your closest friend for your whole life; your mothers’ having grown up together and been lifelong friends themselves. He was your greatest secret keeper and confidant and you, his.
“Do you think my mother will ever understand that there is more to life than high society and getting married?” He asked as you drew in, choking on the smoke at his ridiculous question. You threw him a well-meaning glower. “No, right. You are right, of course she will not. None of them ever will. It sometimes feels like no one will ever be able to understand me” He blinked solemnly down to the grass.
You drew again and passed the cigarette back to Benedict, with a gentle graze of your finger against his cool hand. With glassy eyes, head turned, he took the cigarette and gave the softest, knowing smile.
“Well, maybe not no one” He corrected, that same glazed, serene look fell over you. It made you shiver when he looked at you like that. The moment held for longer than it ever had before, and without a moment of thought, you bound forward and planted a resounding and forceful kiss onto your best friends’ lips. What shocked and surprised you was not only did Benedict not retreat, but he also returned your kiss and turned it into something much deeper and appreciative. You sensed something beneath the surface that needed this, in yourself but also in Ben. His hands moved to the ropes either side of your body, pulling the swing to stability as his lips crashed over yours. Your heart thumped so hard in your ears you thought the music may have turned it up a notch. In the dizzying haze, Benedict nipped and kissed gently at your lower lip, slowly parting just enough to open your eyes and see him staring back at you.
Warm breath in the cool air spread between you in slight breathlessness and Benedict’s eyes turned to sureness as he reached for your hand and dared you to go with him. There was not a second you had ever given a thought when it came to Benedict and tonight was no different than the last twenty years had been. You placed your gloved hand fervently in his and braced as he pulled you up off the swing and ran excitedly across the field of green, hidden in shadows and headed toward the line of carriages in front of Bridgerton house.
The ride in the carriage felt like mere moments, Benedict’s mouth never left your skin. You had thought about moments like this ever since you were a young lady, holding this crush on your best friend so close to your chest, so that no one would ever know.
After helping you out of the carriage and showing you inside, Benedict scrambled ahead of you walking up the stairs to his room. There was good cause for his mother to be after him the way she had been. You knew he had his own lodgings, at this age, but had never been to visit. After all, he was a bachelor and a well-rumored rake about the ton. Even as a spinster, it would have impacted your younger sisters’ fates in society had you ever been seen here.
Benedict knocked things from your way, threw clothes across the room and blankets over fallen wine glasses and signs of debauchery past. You tried to hide your shock with a small smile, but it potentially looked more nervous than not.
“Do you not entertain the idea of staff?” You whispered to Benedict smarmily.
“I do have staff… Sometimes… They aren’t here right now” Benedict laughed, “Why are you whispering?”.
It did not even occur to you that you were, but it did feel like sneaking around, which was not a bad feeling at all. The two of you had always been naughty children, sneaking off and getting into trouble your mamas would have to quell and punish you for. This felt like days long gone.
“I am whispering because I was not sure if we were alone” You uttered anxiously, reaching Benedict’s bedroom. This room was slightly neater, the bed made and curtains drawn for the evening, candelabras and fireplace lit in preparation for the master’s homecoming. The light cast an intimate glow over the furniture and a fiercely warm brilliance over Benedict’s face. The way he looked at you now was undoubtedly affectionate, but with a difference, far more longing rest within his gaze.
You shut the door, backed against it and splayed your hands to the wood, attempting to ground yourself as your heart beat to a mind-boggling tempo. Your breath quickened and all with a simple look. Slowly, Ben took steps towards you, his eyes holding yours, it was as if he had his own gravitational field, pulling you in. Sure enough, he had you leaving the safety of the door and drawing into his arms.
“May I remove your gloves?” He asked surely, gently. With a single nod, Benedicts fingers slid under the hem of the left glove and slid it down your arm with a tedious slowness that made your skin erupt in goose bumps. Holding your gaze, he lifted your right hand to his lips, planting small kisses along the satin before taking the tip of material of a finger into his mouth and pulling the glove away. You swallowed hard, eyebrows knitting together as you thought to yourself, I am in too deep.
Benedict pressed his mouth to the palm of your hand, eliciting a soft sigh from you; he kissed his way up your arm, up your neck and to your lips once more. You melted into him as he crashed into you, long and deep, his arms wrapping around your waist, before moving up your back, to your hair. As he kissed you, his hands expertly searched for pins, casting them to the ground until your hair descended around your shoulders.
“I always liked it better this way” Benedict exhaled, combing his fingers through your long hair. You had not even considered that he would think about you.
It was like being struck by lightning, the thought of Benedict having thought of you how you had of him all these years. You leaned in to kiss him again, shamelessly and more thoroughly than before, your hands between you, undoing any button you could find, Benedict helping too. You were sure you heard the ripping of fabric, but it did not matter. He stumbled backwards towards his bed, squeezing your body to his, his fingers searching desperately for the zipper at the top of your dress. Spinning you around so that he might see, he finally drew the dress down and as the material fell around your midsection, Benedict attempted to undo the lacing on your corset.
“Do your ladies maids have something against you breathing?” Benedict exhaled exasperatedly after a few moments.
“What?” Head turned back, Benedict held knotted laces in his hands, fumbling in the fire light.
“Honestly, they may as well have stitched you in here. This must be how they are planning to protect your virtue, “Benedict laughed, “I am moments away from cutting you out of this thing” He joked.
“Bold of you to assume there is a virtue left to protect” You murmured cheekily. Benedicts eye brows rose so high, the might have joined his hair line if they had stayed up there any longer.
“Oh, that is it!” Benedict stormed across the room, picking up a small knife he had used for cutting canvas. He slid the knife with fervor along the line of eyelets on one side, the tension and pressure releasing on your upper body. There was nothing nicer than removing one’s corset at the end of the day.
Benedict flung you around to press your body back to his bare chest now, the corset material the only layer left between the two of you, your lips meeting messily over your hands clasping it to your chest. Your dress fell around your ankles, your heart beat in your throat, you struggled to breathe around it. Noticing your timorous body language, Benedict took a step back. He smiled enthusiastically, taking in what he could see of your body, while undoing his breeches. He had always been the one to take the lead when you were not sure, and apparently this was no different. You were thankful, as always.
With no words, no shame, Benedict shirked the rest of his clothing, blinking at you softly in the fire light, his body on display and his hand outstretched. You cleared your throat heartily as you looked upon him. He gave the sweetest of trusting smiles, his eyes reflecting that amber glow about the room. Finally, the courage to move the corset washed over you and you lowered it. His shoulders sunk in a way that screamed he was doing his best not to ravage you. His tongue flicked over his bottom lip, and he sucked in a deep, deep breath.
“Y/n, you are the most exquisite woman I have ever seen” Benedict blinked lazily, committing your figure to memory. Your cheeks heated, blushing and smiling like a silly young girl. He started toward you; you took his hand and allowed him to pull you into his bed.
Embraced and locked in each other’s grasp, hands moved exploratorily over each other’s bodies, small moans escaped your lips into his mouth as he kissed you. Benedict rolled you over, his hardness pressed to your buttocks, his arm under your ribs and hand massaging your breast. Sweet, wet kisses placed in the crook of your neck and shoulder made your body shudder, his fingers expertly pulling on your nipples. Benedict splayed his hand across your abdomen, silky skin sliding down over your navel and towards the top of your thighs. Your breath hitched in your throat; it had been long since you had been touched like this by another person.
“May I?” Ben’s fingers danced gracefully over your mound, waiting for your approval.
“Please” You managed, basically begging as you felt wetness spread between your legs.
Benedicts fingers descended torturously, achingly, frustratingly slowly. Your hips almost bucked up to meet him subconsciously. One finger slipped right into your wetness, gliding exactly where you wanted to be touched; this was not his first dalliance, so you were expecting expert care. His movements were sure and gentle, with the exact amount of pressure needed. Truly expert. Your body writhed against his, his hard cock pressed against you with want. Your heart pattered at the thought of him inside you. Benedict added a second finger to his ministrations, delicately pressing your clitoris between them, giving little pulls and swipes exactly where he knew you’d like it most. You gasped and moaned, trying to finagle his cock inside of you from your position to no avail. Heaving in his grasp, Benedict held you right over the edge, pleasure suspended in passionate urgency with no end in sight.
“Benedict, please” You begged sincerely.
“What is it, y/n?” Benedict teased, slowing the rate of his fingers.
“Please, please, please” You repeated, grinding your ass against him.
“Use your words” Benedict groaned in your ear.
“Benedict, your teasing personality is tiresome, put yourself inside me now” you said sternly with a choked laugh as Ben withdrew his hands and reached down to grasp his cock, positioning it just so.
“Oh! Is this what you wanted?” Benedict held fast while your body bounced back against him, the tip of his cock hardly dipping inside you. He was being as painful as he always was, as frustrating and as wearisome, but something more than a bite sexier. His teeth grazed your neck as he pushed his hips forward, his hand now anchored and digging into your hip. Benedict slid all the way into you with agonizing precision, and then rested there, like the torturous wretch he had now set out to be. His thrusts were full and long after a moment of adjustment, your moans in harmonic rhythm when you were perfectly full. Benedict’s hand crept round again to your clitoris, his two fingers sliding masterfully over it, in vigorous cadence. Raucous groans and curses spewed from Benedict behind you, your hair a bed for his head, his teeth and lips pulling at your neck and ear as he pounded into you.
The incessant ministrations, the unexpected size of him and the intentionally wild driving force of his body held you in a place of intense rapture. Yelping his name, writhing in his grip for him to cease, the overwhelming force of your orgasm tore through your body with a fiendish electrifying explosion. Losing control of all your faculties, your eyes blurring, muscles tensing, speech and thought disintegrating pleasure pulled you under. Benedict did not relent, his hips expertly pounded, his hands at your waist, pulling your body down into him, seeking his own release.
“Y/n, I am going to come” Benedict groaned hotly.
“Inside me, Benedict, please. Please, let me have this” You begged, returning to yourself for this moment.
Benedicts vulgar thrust grew devastatingly hard as his hand wrapped into your hair and pushed you forward for more traction. “Fuck y/n” He groaned in completion, his last thrusts hard and deep, pumping his seed into you as you had asked. Grip releasing on your hair, Benedict pulled your body back against his, remaining inside of you for a moment, allowing you to relish what had happened. You both breathed heavily, moaning every now and then thinking about what you had done. You were happy and did not feel as awkward as you assumed you would.
“Ben?” You asked, checking on your friend whose face you could not see.
“Hmm?” He mumbled, sleepiness gathering over him. You parted your legs and rolled over, freeing him.
“Are we still best friends?” You asked softly. Benedict’s thumb grazed over your cheek, your eyes meeting. Leaning forward to kiss you in a wistfully romantic fashion. His eyes filled with glints of light, looked changed. His soft lips planted kisses over your eyelids and your nose.
“Can we not be more than that?” He whispered affectionately. Small laughs emanated from both of you, like school children with crushes. Your noses touched in warmhearted nearness, littered with small velvety kisses.
“I should have kissed you years ago. I should have married you when you debuted. I should have several years as your husband under my belt by now, if only I had not been so scared of ruining our friendship” Benedict chuckled to himself in disbelief, “If Gregory or Hyacinth should ever ask, I will tell them to take the chance, so that they too do not miss out on precious time”. Ben held your chin and pulled you into a deep kiss, his arms wrapping tight around you, so that you might not escape him again.
Violet Bridgerton is truly gods strongest soldier. Every season she tells one of her children they're in love and every season they scoff in her face before causing seven different scandals to reach the same conclusion.
I was retired, should I blame myself for every victim who got killed while I was on my book tour? Look, if you wanna end up like Shaunessy, like Gideon, blaming yourself for everything, you go ahead. But that voice in your head isn't your conscience, it's your ego. This isn't about us, Aaron. It's about the bad guys. That's why we profile them. It's their fault. We're just guys doing a job. And when we stop doing it, someone else will. Trust me, I know.
