#Anthony Bridgerton x Y/N

[kennarose1108]

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader !CHILDHOOD ENIMES! !PART 4!

ANTHONY'S POV

She looked so stunning... Standing there nervous with her breathing heavy and staring up at him.

He saw the innocent stare on her face and he wanted nothing more but to ruin that innocence and take her as his own...

But he was a gentleman.

He couldn't just do that.

So he leaned in but stopped about an inch away. "Wh... What are you doing?" She asks him again. Anthony's other hand trailed down her arm and slowly pulled off her glove. He dropped it to the floor when it was removed he took her hand in his. "You feel it too don't you...?" He whispers.

"That feeling... The one of desire..." He whispers, his lips barely away from yours. "I could teach you so many things..." He says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Anthony... We can't..."

"Oh, but we must..." Anthony whispers right after you.

"If you don't feel the same tell me now and I'll walk away..." He says. He could tell she was at a loss for words at first before she let out a shaky breath, "I do not know what I feel..." She murmured. His fingers intertwined with hers.

God... Her bare skin felt so good against his... He wanted to touch every inch of your skin... He wanted to taste every inch of your skin.

"Tell me... Tell me how you feel. Just think about it for a moment... About the feelings you have." He says while rubbing his thumb gently over her knuckles. "Anthony w-we really... Can't." She whispers. Anthony stares at her momentarily, just taking in her scent, looks, aura... Everything. He wanted her fully in his memory before he did something that took all his strength to do...

He pulled away.

He let his fingertips leave her skin and he takes a step back. "I understand..." He nods and looks down. "No Anthony it's not... It's not like that, please... Just... It's too complicated." She says, clearly nervous and slightly desperate for him to understand. And he did. He did understand.

He nods again and looks up at her, "I understand Y/N. I am a gentleman. I will not force you to do something you are not comfortable doing." He says with a soft smile.

"It's not that I..." She starts but stops herself. There was a moment of silence between the two, them just staring at one another and both contemplating on what to do next. Finally, Anthony spoke up, "Let's go back to the carriage." He says while shrugging off his jacket. "Here, we'll have to run." He says with a smirk while giving her his jacket. She took it and raised it over her head to shield herself from the rain as they both ran back to the carriage. The carriage ride home was silent other than her telling him to take her straight home.

Once they got to her home she went to hand him her jacket but Anthony put his hand up to stop her, "Keep it for now. Use it to get inside the house. I'm sure we'll be seeing one another again sweetheart." He says with a wink. She blushes slightly but doesn't say anything before leaving the carriage.

Anthony watched as she quickly ran inside her home and he sighed. He wanted her so badly... But he couldn't have her. Not yet anyway.

------------------------------------------

A couple of weeks went by and Anthony had done his best to try and ignore her and ignore his feelings and focus on Kate. He got fitted for a tux, and they picked out a wedding cake flavor and where to have the wedding.

But the thought of her still lingered in his mind...

And now tonight was another ball and he knew he'd be seeing her again... He swallowed his pride and went to the ball. Anthony and Kate entered the ball arm-in-arm with big smiles on their faces... That was until he saw her.

She looked stunning, as always, but she looked upset. She was sitting by herself and looking at the people dancing... She seemed to not want to be there.

After a few minutes, Anthony peeled away from Kate walked over to her, and sat beside her. "For such a stunning lady you surely do have such a sad frown," Anthony says. She turns her head and glares at him and he chuckles softly, "And such a piercing glare..." He murmurs under his breath.

She turns away and sighs, "My mother has been on me for days... And because I've been avoiding her and her suitors none want to court me anymore. So now she's on me even more." Her gaze fell down as she spoke. "I just wish to be free... Is that too much to ask?" She says while turning her head towards him. He could see tears in her eyes and it broke his heart.

He wanted nothing more but to pull her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be alright... But he couldn't. Not here at least.

"Would you like to take a stroll with me in the garden? To get away?" Anthony suggests. "I don't think that's allowed..." She says but she was clearly intrigued by this idea. "Who cares?" Anthony chuckles. He then stands up and holds his arm out to her, "I would enjoy your company." He says with a smile. She hesitates before taking his arm. He leads her out into the garden and they walk around in the dimly lit garden arm-in-arm and just in silence.

It was a comfortable silence. But finally, Anthony decided to speak up, "I know you hate getting dressed up... But you truly look beautiful." Anthony says with a charming smile. She smiles back, "Thank you..." She says.

Anthony then clears his throat, "I would like to apologize for my actions a few weeks ago." They both stop as he continues, "It was ungentlemanly and I shouldn't have been so forceful on you..." Anthony says. She shakes her head, "Anthony... I told you that's not what I meant by we can't I..." She says before sighing.

"Listen... I just... I don't understand my own feelings and I don't want to ruin anything with you and your fiancé..." She explains. "Y/N... I won't shy away from my feelings." Anthony says while pulling his arm out of her grip.

"I want you." He says. She shakes her head, "No... You can't." He steps forward, "Oh, but I can." He says, his arm snaking around her waist. "I know you feel the same... The way your breath hitches when we touch, the way your face blushes when I do a kind gesture for you... I know you feel the same." He says, repeating himself at the last part.

"It doesn't matter what I feel..." She says with a heavy breath. "To me it does..." He whispers, his lips just inching towards hers.

But then a bush rustled near them causing her to gasp and both of them turned to the sound. But, luckily, it was just a bunny running through a bush. She lets out a sigh of relief and pulls back. "Anthony... This is wrong... W-We can't..." She says while shaking her head. "We cannot deny our feelings for one another..." Anthony says and she sighs and turns to walk away. He quickly follows after her.

He calls her but she ignores him as they walk back into the ball, she hurries up the stairs, trying to get away from him. She goes into a room, which seems to be the library in the manor, and tries to shut the door in his face but he grabs the door and makes his way inside. She backs up until her back hits a table in the room.

"We can't..." She says. "We must." He answers back.

"Anthony it's wrong." She says with a huff. "Since when has love been so wrong?" He answers. She scoffs, "Now you claim to love me?"

"I have always loved you!" He says, a little bit too loudly. "Since we were children... I have always loved you." He says, his voice barely above a whisper. She stares at him with a sad stare, "You are to be married..." She whispers.

"I will leave her." He says quickly. Her eyes widened, "You cannot!" She says. "But I can." He says back. "Your reputation will be ruined! You cannot!" He then grabs her hips and pulls her close to him.

"I. Don't. Care. I want you. My heart aches for you... I only want you." He says in a low and seductive, but sincere, tone of voice... They stare at one another, both of their breaths heavy and their hearts yearning for one another...

She then grabbed the collar of his shirt before yanking him forward and kissing him passionately.

PART 5?

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[ladysharmaa]

My miracle

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

summary: Anthony’s wife is in labor and it’s not looking good

warnings: mentions of death

“Where is she?” the loud voice of Anthony was heard in the entire mansion. The door he opened slammed into the wall but he couldn’t care less as he saw some servants running his way to take off his coat. “Tell me where my wife is!”

“My apologies, my Lord.” the poor man trembled under the Lord’s menacingly glare, that were just a cover for the worry and fear that was running though his veins. “The Viscountess is in your chambers. The midwife and your mother are already present with her. Shall I inform your brothers to come and wait with you until the child is born?”

Anthony didn’t bother to respond. He quickly climbed the stairs, two steps at once, seeing with wide eyes as the maids ran to his room with towels in their hands. He doesn't even settle for knocking, immediatly opening the bedroom door. None of his mother's stories could have prepared him for the sight that lay ahead.

His darling wife was drenched in sweat, dressed in her nightdown. One hand was on her round belly protectively while the other was in his mother’s hands, who was whispering words of comfort. Her jaw was clenched in pain and it was only then that he noticed the midwife between the Viscountess legs. 

“You!” Y/n screamed accusingly, managing to point a finger at Anthony with hatred. “You did this to me! You will never ever put your hands on me again!”

“I-” Anthony was at loss of words. He knew that his wife was in pain, and looking like she was ready to kill, so he just nodded his head in agreement. He took slow hesitant steps towards the bed, hoping to comfort her without dying. “I’ll never touch you again, my love. How are you feeling?”

“How do you think I’m feeling? I’m pushing your child that inherited your big head out of my lady parts! So tell me, my dear husband, how am I feeling?”

“Like you are giving birth?”

“Anthony...” his mother whispered while shaking her head in dispair. “You should leave the room. Your brothers must be coming to keep you company. We shall call you when the child is born.” 

“I’m not leaving my wife.” was the only thing he said with firmity, holding Y/n’s hand and kissing her soft skin gently.

She turned to him, a change in her demeanor, eyes full of tears of terror. “I’m scared, Anthony. It hurts.”

“I know it hurts. It’s okay, love. You will be alright and then we will have our child with us.” he whispered. A feeling of guilt washed through him. How could he have made his wife suffer through childbirth? “You are the bravest person I know. So so much braver than me and everyone else. I’m so proud of you.”

"I can't do this. It hurts too much. Make it stop, Anthony, please." Y/n cried.

It was only then that Anthony saw the look in his mother. She was worried, exchanging looks with the midwife. And as much as the Viscount would like to also show his anguish, his first priority was to comfort Y/n. "It's going to be okay, my love. Just a little longer, you're being so strong."

But she no longer had the strength to respond. It was getting harder and harder to keep her eyes open and she just wanted to sleep to escape the pain. Between her legs, an increasingly larger pool of blood was forming. Anthony's eyes were wide and there was enormous pressure in his chest. It felt like I was running out of oxygen, and it only got worse when Y/n finally gave in to unconsciousness.

"What's happening?" he whispered, looking in alarm first at Violet. Afterwards, he turned to the midwife furiously. "What's wrong with her? Help her! Do something!"

"Anthony, you need to leave." Violet advised, trying to remain calm for everyone's sake. Anthony was becoming more and more desperate, tears falling from his eyes as he grabbed his wife's hand tighter and brought it to his lips.

"I'm not going anywhere!"

"Viscount Bridgerton, the baby is in pain. You won't want to see what I'm going to do. I promise I'll try to save both of them." the midwife said, taking a small knife and flying it over Y/n's stomach.

"If you need to choose, save my wife's life." Anthony begged, now more desperate as his mother called his brothers to take him out of the room.

"Anthony..."

"No, mother, you save my wife's life!" Benedict and Collin grabbed the man by the arms and began to carry him outside, despite Anthony's struggle. "You hear me! My wife is going to survive! Let me go! Mother, save Y/n!" he shouted before the door closed in his face. 

The last thing he saw was the woman making the cut on Y/n's stomach, who woke up with a jolt. She then let out a scream that would torment Anthony for the rest of his life.

With a cry of anger mixed with sadness, Anthony broke free from his brothers' grip and put his hands to his face. He didn't want to think about the possibility of losing the love of his life. He simply couldn't take it.

"Wow, Anthony, calm down." Collin whispered when Anthony, in a rage, threw a punch against the wall. "The Viscountess is a fighter. If anyone is capable of overcoming this, it's her."

"You don't tell me to calm down, Collin. Not when my wife is in that room fighting for her life over something I did." he cried, jaw shaking and eyes red that only showed the immense pain he was in. He sat on the floor, leaning his head back and looking at the ceiling. "I need her to live."

"And she will live, brother. I will bring a drink, and we will wait together for news." Benedict said, rushing to bring the alcohol when Y/n's screams became louder.

On one hand, each scream was like a stab in the heart of Anthony, who was increasingly pale and looked like he was going to vomit at any moment. On the other, it was the only way to know she was alive.

Moments passed. The Viscount didn't know if it had been seconds, minutes or hours. Things seemed to be getting mixed up in his mind. Nothing made sense, not when the love of his life was in the next room in pain and he was away from her. He had to protect her, it was his obligation as a husband. And he failed.

And then came the moment when Anthony's heart stopped. A baby's cry was heard, and he allowed himself to smile a little. He had a son or daughter. A mini version of his wife. And then he burst into tears when Y/n stopped screaming and everything became too silent.

It was uncontrollable. He cried without being able to stop, making it even difficult to breathe in. Anthony refused to believe that he would have to raise this child without Y/n. Without her affection, her kindness, her love. He didn't want to open his eyes and realize that all this wasn't a nightmare, but reality.

Benedict and Collin didn't know what to do. But one thing was certain, they would be there to help Anthony with whatever he needed and never let that child forget the wonderful mother he had. Then, Violet left the room holding a pile of blankets that held the baby.

"You have a daughter, Anthony."

He just cried more. His body was shaking and he couldn't even look at his mother and the baby. "Y/n... Is she...?" He took Violet's silence as a yes. "Oh god..."

"Enter the room, Anthony. She is waiting for you."

Anthony had never stood up so quickly in his life. He quickly opened the door, stopping momentarily when he saw the amount of blood on the sheets, but the most important thing was Y/n's half-open eyes. She was alive and looking around the room in confusion.

"Anthony? Where is my baby?" her voice was hoarse and extremely weak.

The man fell to his knees at the edge of her bed, and lowered his head to rest on her chest. A feeling of relief spread throughout his body when he felt the rising and falling movement of her chest, indicating that she was breathing and that it wasn't just his imagination.

"I love you so much." he cried, feeling her hands start stroking his hair. "I'm sorry. You were so brave and strong. I'm so proud of you, my love."

"Where is my baby?" Y/n didn't want to seem like she didn't appreciate Anthony's words because that was a lie. He was the most important person in her life. But at that moment, Y/n just wanted to know where her baby was.

"She's right here, dear." Violet reassured with a smile, announcing her presence.

Very carefully, she passed the child into the arms of her son's wife, her smile widening as the little family was finally together again. The new parents had a gentle smile as they looked at their creation, a new love emerging for this fragile human being.

Anthony kissed Y/n's temple. "We have a daughter."

"She is beautiful."

"She takes after her mother." Anthony quickly said, never feeling so much love as he did in that moment. 

He was extremely proud of Y/n admiring her strength and courage. Now, he was going to protect his two girls until the end of his life. Nothing was more important than his family.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #Bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x y/n #collin bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x wife reader

[fayes-fics]

A Beneficial Arrangement

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: A marriage pact with a Viscount. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f), loss of virginity, vaginal sex. Bickering, developing relationship.

Word Count: 6.1 k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Anon request fill from HERE (Anthony and a headstrong independent reader make an unconventional marriage pact). Sorry it's taken so long to write this, but I hope you enjoy! <3

It’s a dreary, rather ordinary Tuesday in spring when your life takes a turn.

“The Viscount is in want of a wife.” 

That statement is all you hear as you walk past the drawing room where your mother is taking tea with her good friend, the dowager Viscountess Bridgerton.

“My eldest needs a husband,” your mother responds, offering you as if merely chattel; bile rises indignantly as she does so. “But I fear she is far too outspoken to be a suitable Viscountess.” 

You sigh in relief, ear pressed to the closed door now.

“Oh, believe me, nothing would be a better match for my darling Anthony than someone who will challenge him, stand up to him,” Violet peals a knowing laugh. “We should arrange a meeting.”

——

3 days later.

He assesses you with a cool eye as your gaze drifts briefly over to both of your mothers, watching expectantly from a nearby table in the tea shop.

“You should know I will only be taking a wife to fulfil my societal duty,” he sniffs airly. “However, I do not expect you to produce an heir. The title may pass to my younger brothers; they are more inclined to form romantic attachments than I. Their offspring can inherit this title; it feels like a curse anyhow,” he adds quieter, his tone mildly embittered.

“Well, on your attitude to marriage, I can wholeheartedly agree,” you state, stirring your tea primly. “I do not wish to be shackled. I wish to remain free. I shall marry, as there is no other path available to me, but I do not plan nor do I ever want to be someone's wife.” You utter the word with disdain as if it is toxic. 

His admittedly very handsome face transforms into one of surprise, a faint dot of colour on his cheeks as he peers at you as if assessing you in a new light.

“What?” You frown at him, his silent stare becoming too heavy to bear as his interest and engagement intensify.

“You are the first woman I have ever met who shares my outlook,” he confesses, seemingly caught off-guard. “It is so utterly refreshing… and, frankly, novel.” He pauses to pass his fingers slowly over his lips in a way that makes your stomach swoop, even if you refuse to acknowledge such even to yourself. “I do believe we should meet again to discuss this further,” he concludes.

And thus, you find yourself with the suit of one Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, both of your mothers overjoyed at the prospect.

——

9 days later.

“If I must marry, you are the most tolerable woman I have met, I must concede,” he states nonchalantly as you meet to promenade. 

It’s quite an opening line for only your third meeting, even for someone as renownedly blunt as the Viscount.

“And a good afternoon to you too, Viscount Bridgerton,” you drawl pointedly with a raised eyebrow, subtly hinting how his greeting may have been lacking.

He chuckles, a flash of what looks like admiration in his dark eyes.

“As such,” he continues, “I would not be averse to a martial arrangement with you. An agreement, a pact if you will, based on our mutual understanding of what we both want from such an endeavour.”

The speed and pragmatism of his apparent proposal do not surprise you in the least. In fact, you are actually grateful for the lack of ceremony around it. If you must marry, you prefer it be swift.

“Did you mean what you said last week? In the tearoom?” You quiz as you begin to walk shoulder to shoulder through Hyde Park, the early summer air heavy with the scent of roses.

“Every word,” he replies solemnly.

“Then, I suppose this is a beneficial arrangement for me too,” you shrug as if agreeing about the weather, not the very course of your future. But there is something about this man that feels inevitable, fateful, but not in a way you dread. Also, his face is so very pleasing. If you must indeed marry, at least the view across the dinner table will be nice.

“Then it is decided,” he nods decisively, a brusque smile passing over his lips. “I so greatly appreciate your candidness with regard to this matter. It makes the whole business so much easier to deal with.”

He offers a hand to shake, and you take it, bemused, shaking on the deal, pretending this mere touch doesn't make every butterfly in your stomach roar to life.

“I shall make the arrangements swiftly,” he states, again with a short smile and nod.

You are married within three weeks.

——

6 weeks later.

‘‘What on earth is this?” he practically spits as he rounds the corner of Bridgerton House onto the back lawn.

“What does it look like?” you sass, tearing the netted visor from your face.

“It looks an awful lot like my wife is fencing,” his reply dripping with conceited judgement.

“Well, I’m glad to know you do not need glasses, husband,” you respond dryly, nodding to accept the excuses of the butler you were sparring with, who suddenly seems very keen to scurry away now the Viscount has arrived.

“Perkins, do not think this has gone unnoticed,” Anthony calls pointedly after the retreating man.

“Leave him alone!” you bark, taking your husband aback with your ferocity, him turning to you and almost gaping in surprise. “Perkins must do my bidding as lady of the house, and I told him to fence with me,” you elucidate, keen that the innocent party not suffer any consequences for your decision. 

“Women do not fence,” he sniffs, changing the subject somewhat.

“This one does,” you riposte, spearing your epee tip into the grass to remove the suede gloves.

“It is unbecoming of a Viscountess,” he adds almost haughtily.

“Good thing such matters hold no truck with me,” you shrug, knowing you are likely provoking him. 

To hell with what is appropriate for a titled lady. The title, and all of its stifling rules and expectations, is the very last reason you married the man standing before you. No, the reason is far, far more simultaneously complex and simple than that. He excites you—in ways you don't even want to admit to yourself.

It’s not something you would divulge to anyone, but arguing with your new husband has become your new favourite pastime. On the rare occasions you see him, that is. Since your wedding day, you have mostly been ships passing at the dinner table; otherwise, your lives have been very separate. At night, his rooms are at the other end of the long hallway from yours, and his days are apparently filled with business obligations. While the utter freedom to fill your days as you wish has been a blessing, it’s also been perhaps a touch lonely.

When you do see Anthony, you invariably end up clashing about something. And, well, it’s often the highlight of your week. A thrill zipping down your spine as you do so. The only person you have met who can keep up with your verbal sparring. It makes you excited, breathless, dizzy, a fizz low in your belly that feels entirely beguiling. Today is no different; you feel that same sensation as he stares at you, arms crossed, exasperated.

“Well, if you insist upon this rebellious pastime,’ he sighs after a few beats, snatching your epee, “the least you can do is improve your grip,” he grouses, rolling his eyes.

You startle as he crowds into your back, a warm hand wrapping around yours as he passes you the blade and demonstrates a different way to wield it that you concede feels better. The spike of victory in your bloodstream from winning the argument morphs into something entirely different as he stands behind you, his breath tickling your ear and the tendrils of your hair as he provides instruction. 

You try to take the details on board, but your thoughts scatter with his overwhelming proximity. How have you never noticed the stirring amber notes of his cologne before? Or how very broad his chest is compared to his slim hips? Perhaps because this is the closest you have ever been, his body heat seeping into your spine, your heart fluttering hard against your ribs. You can’t decide if this effect your husband can have on you is the best or the worst thing. Somehow, it feels like both.

——

1 month later.

You are both relieved to avoid most of the season on the pretence of being on honeymoon, but inevitably, the time comes when you must debut as a married couple. Speculation about you growing ever since Lady Whistledown breathlessly reported your nuptials, a nearly unknown minor Ton member rapidly snaring the most eligible of perenially eligible bachelors.

So when you enter your first ball as Viscountess Bridgerton, all eyes are upon you. You feel mildly uncomfortable bedecked in jewels and a heavy silk dress, but know refinement is of importance at events such as these. You just cannot wait to get home and get out of them. This will never be your preferred milieu, a sentiment you apparently share with your husband—underneath his calm, unruffled exterior, you sense his dampened disquiet.

“Smile politely, nod in acknowledgement, but don't engage for any longer than necessary,” he counsels under his breath as an inevitable hush falls over the room when your arrival is announced. You are grateful for his steadfast support, his arm looped reassuringly through yours as you follow his advice, knowing he has navigated these waters much more than you have needed to. “The best thing to do is seem frightfully ordinary,” he explains quietly as you complete a circuit of the room. “They are ravenous for gossip; if none is to be had, their preoccupation will swiftly wane.”

Indeed, the initial excitement about your appearance soon dies down as other, perhaps more flamboyant, guests arrive. People approach expressing surprise about your union, but once he economically explains you just knew you were right for each other, they often quickly move on, seeming almost disappointed at the lack of apparent scandal.

As the evening progresses, you school your tongue at some of the barbs you overhear, more out of a wish to be left alone rather than any adherence to social rules. Most of the things that appear to preoccupy the Ton you have little patience for. As Anthony spends some time with business acquaintances, you eventually find yourself in the company of the female members of his family, whom you are quickly becoming very fond of with every passing day in their company. Particularly his benevolent mother and headstrong sister, Eloise. In fact, the latter is the primary witness to the flare of your true nature, fatigue overriding your ability to remain silent.

Cressida Cowper is being particularly venomous about a mutual acquaintance. Eloise is quick with her witty tongue in reply, and you cannot stop yourself from piling on your scorn as well.

“Perhaps if the braiding of your hair were less painful, it would allow you greater empathy,” you retort before you can stop yourself.

Eloise’s responding guffaw sprays lemonade all over Cressida, whose shocked mien is the last thing you see before she turns heel to attend to her ruined dress in private.

“That was sensational!” Eloise wheezes in awe as she blots the remnants of her beverage from her chin.

You sigh.

“It was unwise,” you correct, knowing you have probably just made an enemy of one of the worst gossips of the Ton.

“It was wholly accurate and justified,” a cool, authoritative voice cuts in, and you look up to find your husband before you, a rapt glint in his eye that makes your lungs feel tight. It appears he may have also been witness to the moment.

Eloise’s eyes briefly ping-pong between the two of you, and then she loops an arm into the crook of Anthony’s as you continue to gaze at each other, cataloguing something new about each other that you mutually admire.

“I like her,” Eloise nods at you. “Excellent choice of wife, brother,” she grins.

It breaks the spell between you but seems to further ingratiate you with at least one member of his family. And that makes you feel light as air in a way you don't fully understand.

——

2 months later.

Funnily enough, it’s another random Tuesday when your life takes a complete turn. Yet again, you find yourself in another heated debate with your husband of barely twelve weeks. This time while sojourning at your country estate, Aubrey Hall.

“Must you?” Anthony gripes, standing up from his desk and rounding towards where you stand.

“Must I what? Speak my mind?” you bite back, hands on your hips.

“Be so damn argumentative,” he expounds, hands also on hips, chest heaving a little, “urghh, you are so aggravating!”

“Same!” You shoot back. “I have never met a man quite as disagreeable as you,” you add, not realising as you argue that you have taken steps closer and are now huffing irritated breaths close to each other's faces.

“Why did you agree to marry me then?” he snarls, his gaze suddenly fixated on your bottom lip, unbeknownst to you, it’s glistening and swollen from biting in irritation at his demeanour.

“Right now, I have no earthly idea,” you volley in return, but your pounding heart gives away the real reason. No one makes you feel quite as alive as Anthony, even when he is driving you up the wall, like right now. “Why did you agree to marry me, seeing as I am so very ‘aggravating’?” you spit, parroting the word back at him.

His stare blisters as he draws himself to full height right before you.

“We made a pact,” he huffs, “this is duty, nothing more.” 

But the way he breathes and holds himself speaks to something else. A war in his body and mind. The maelstrom in his eyes belying his words… and then it hits you. So singular it knocks the wind from your lungs. This is desire. He wants you. In all the ways a man can want a woman. 

And damn it all to hell if you don’t feel precisely the same.

“For me as well,” your tart, mendacious reply is bitter on your tongue.

The tension in the air is taut like a cord, ready to snap. You both toe to toe, noses almost touching, laboured breaths as you stare each other down like some game to see who will capitulate first. 

“I do believe we are at an impasse… wife,” the last word dripping with disdain, but he is leaning closer than he ever has, his lips fractional inches from yours.

“It would appear so…,” you concur, “…husband,” you roll the last word slowly, lingering on the end of the first syllable as if it is both a treat and a bitter pill on your tongue.

“I have been raised a gentleman,” he hisses, “but there are times that you test my resolve.”

“I do nothing of the sort!” you decry, knowing you are lying even to yourself now. Somedays lately, you live to simply push his buttons, just to see what he will do. “And resolve of what? To not be a good husband? Because I can tell you, forthright, you are doing a wonderful job of being a terrible husband,” you goad, knowing you are poking the proverbial beast now.

“I give you a wonderful home to run as you please, I give you the freedom to pursue whatever pastimes you wish, I let you speak your mind. As Viscountess, the world is yours. What else could you possibly want in a husband? I do not ask you to do things, wifely things, that I could,” he warns, his voice buzzing low. “I could demand you submit to my will; it is my right,” he growls.

A flame behind your ribs catches fire, even as your eyes flash indignant.

“You do not wish for that sort of wife; you told me as much yourself.” It’s a heated whisper, much breathier than you mean it to be.

“A man can change his mind,” he gravels, “same as a woman can change hers if she wishes.”

“What made you change your mind?” 

He fixes you with a hypnotic, weighted stare.

“You.”

The way that one word drips from his lips tilts your whole existence. It’s so loaded you don’t know what to say. Unmoored, your system awash with chemicals, your mind flooding with images of sketches you have seen of men and women together. Of what the marital act can entail. It’s something you believed would not ever be a part of your marriage, your life, even, but now…. 

Now your handsome husband is staring at you, ragged breaths, face wild, telling you he has changed his mind. Maybe he wants that sort of marriage, that sort of union. Something gallops hard in your chest as he steps away, as if wrongly intuiting you are about to turn down his suit, and something bubbles up from deep inside you.

“Do not dare,” you growl.

His mouth falls open in shock.

“Do not tease me so and leave me wanting,” you continue with a boldness and timbre you barely recognise as your own. “‘Tis crueller to build false hope than to take what you want,” you sniff and stare him down, so wholly decisive in your intentions and desires. If this is the nudge he needs, you’ll give it.

“You want me to exercise my conjugal rights?” he falters, appearing utterly stunned.

You don’t answer; just do one thing, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. You close the last few inches and press your lips to his. 

They are soft and plush against yours, making your insides warm and glowing. Then, Anthony makes a noise in the back of his throat, and suddenly, he is kissing you back. So ferociously, you squeak into his mouth as he opens your lips and slides his tongue over yours, his strong arms pulling you into an embrace so you are enveloped by his warm body.

Good lord.

You feel like you are drowning in him as he grabs your jaw, directing the kiss, turning it into something wholly other. Your lips move endlessly together as you both greedily take from the other for what seems like ages. When you pull apart, you are both heaving breaths and staring at each other, almost confused.

“Don’t you dare do that again,” you snarl, wanting to rip every item of clothing from your body and his.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds airily.

And then you crash into each other again. Drinking desperately from each other's mouths, powerless to resist whatever flame draws you together. 

He walks you backwards as your tongues tangle, and you startle slightly as your bottom hits his imposing desk. Hands loop around your thighs, and he hoists you into the surface, never breaking the intoxicating kiss.

He tries to step between your legs, but your column dress is too tight to allow it. You attempt to wiggle the hem upwards as you kiss, then, with a frustrated grunt, he bats your hands away and, using a strength that shocks you, rips the silk material asunder from the hem to your hip.

“I loved this dress!” you decry over his lips, unwilling to admit you’d destroy every single dress you own if he just kept kissing you like this.

“I’ll buy you another,” he dismisses, pushing your thighs wide with his hands. “I’ll buy you as many as you want.” 

“You had better,” you challenge, scarcely able to believe you even have the wherewithal to debate with him, especially as this is the first time a man has ever touched your bare leg.

He pulls back from the kiss to stare intently into your eyes as his fingertips trace from your kneecap up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You don’t mean to, but you tremble, having never been touched this way before. You gasp as his palm cups the apex of your thighs, his hand feeling so warm through the thin silk protecting your modesty, his fingers swirling circles over your patch of hair as the heel of his palm presses against your slit.

“I can feel your heat,” he hisses.

You can barely process what is happening, your body rioting as he touches and teases you, staring you down. Instinctively, you reach for the tiny buttons at your hip, but your hands fall away as he flicks his middle finger downwards and catches a nub that makes your body buck.

“Anthony,” it falls from your lips unbidden with a halting breath. It may well be the first time you have uttered his first name in his presence.

He groans at the sound. “Please, always say my name like that,” he pleads through gritted teeth.

So you repeat it, the same intonation, even as that finger drags slowly up and down over the swollen pearl between your legs, undone by how good it feels.

“Are you chaste?” he inquires; it’s not judgemental in tone, just pure curiosity, his ministrations lighter.

“Yes,” you admit quietly, “but I do know of the marital act”, you add, wanting him to know you are not entirely innocent.

“Hmm,” he hums, looking at once thoughtful and blistering, his finger moving more insistently again, “I am glad to hear it. Then you shall not be entirely shocked by what is about to happen?”

“So… we are to undertake it? The act?” you stutter, his finger making you feel so good you have to bite your lip.

But he doesn’t answer your question directly. 

“Wife, how attached are you to these undergarments?” his tone almost idle, cocking his head to the side as his gaze lingers over them.

You shrug practically. “I have many exactly the same.”

Then, you gasp loudly as the sound of silk tearing fills the room. You are quaking as the warm air of his study swirls around your exposed, damp slit. He shocks you by dropping to his knees before you. Pushing your thighs wide on his desk and looking up at you with burningly intense eyes, he presses his face to your flesh, inhaling deeply, his nose buried in your pubic hair before his tongue peeks out and nudges the swollen nub he was teasing through the silk. 

Your mouth drops open, and something inhuman escapes your lungs. Then he does it again, this time enclosing the whole area between his lips and sucking hard on your flesh, tongue curling and ploughing into your folds. The heat, the suction, the muscular swipe of his tongue feels so good your mind blanks out, a tremor in your splayed thighs that he holds forcibly open with warm hands. He keeps doing so for a few moments as your fingernails curl hard into the edge of his desk, scarcely able to do anything but writhe and gently moan. IIdly you think upon all of your curious research, never once had you heard of or read about a man doing as he is now, placing his head between his wife’s thighs and sniffing, drinking from her body.

“You are plenty ready for me, wife,” he huffs, his warm breath tickling your responsive folds, little ripples of pleasure deep inside scattering your thoughts. “Are you averse to me taking you right here?” he waves a hand nonchalantly at his large, imposing carved wooden desk.

“I… I rather thought su-such things could only ha-happen in a bed,” you confess stiltedly, a quiver in your voice.

He smirks up from between your thighs, turning his head to kiss the fragile skin there. “Oh, no, wife. We can fuck anywhere we please…” he pauses and looks sincere, “however, should you prefer a bed…”

“Here is fine,” you rush out, so very keen to have your husband make a woman of you. As if leaving this room may break the spell you are under. Location be damned. You just want to know him. He smirks again, placing a final quick kiss on your flesh, looking very pleased at your response.

“I wholeheartedly concur,” he rumbles as he hoists himself back up to stand, stepping inwards to rock his clothed pelvis against your pulsing nub. There is something hot and swollen in his trousers now, and you realise this must be his member. 

“Show it to me,” you enthuse, nodding at the insistent bulge.

“So very impatient all of a sudden, wife,” he scolds with a bemused chuckle, grabbing your wrist and guiding your hand over the bump. It feels so hot and steely even through the fabric. “Unbutton me,” he orders casually, pointing to the fastening at his hip. 

Exuberantly, you undo them quickly, keen to see if his member matches the sketches you have viewed. As the front of his trousers falls away, he quickly pushes down his white underwear. There, nestled in a thatch of dark hair at the base, is your husband's cock. Your eyes widen at the sight. It seems more considerable than the drawings you have seen, and you are temporarily taken aback by how red and almost angry it looks at the tip.

“Go ahead, touch it,” Anthony encourages, and with a slight tremble in your fingers, you reach forward and make contact with him.

“Oh!” you exclaim without thought, “it’s so soft, your skin, and so hot!” 

He chuckles warmly at your assessment. “Indeed,” he huffs as you wrap your hand instinctively around it, feeling its weight and mass in your palm.

“This will not fit inside me, surely?” you blurt out.

“It will, I promise,” his tone mellow, tinged with understanding even as his breath staccatos when you start to move your hand, the instinct to rub inexplicable, but seemingly precisely what he wants. “Yes, perfect,” he rasps, eyes closing and tongue peaking out to lick his lips.

The odd mix of total honesty and soft appreciation between you as you acquaint yourselves with each other's bodies seems very apt, as if this is the only way such a development would ever transpire. And you realise, as you cradle his most intimate parts, that you trust this man with your very being. Despite your bickering, there is a thread of mutual respect under it that makes you feel safe, seen, and known in a way that no other person has.

“Take me now, husband,” you rattle through your teeth, watching a bead of something sticky form at the tip of his cock as you squeeze him in hypnotic, repetitive motions. The sight makes something in your body turn to fiery liquid, wanting him and that substance inside yourself in a way that doesn't make logical sense. 

He growls at your words, grabbing your hand away from his cock and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the back of your knuckles as your eyes lock, a chaste, almost romantic interlude.

But then his hands grab your hips and haul you almost roughly to the very edge of the desk, your torn dress framing your splayed thighs, his trousers around his ankles as he takes his cock in hand and rubs the tip over your folds of flesh in a way that makes you moan under your breath.

“Are you certain?” he checks, even as he pants anticipatorily.

“God, yes,” you confirm, craving him in a way you have never felt about anything before. An urgent hook tugging deep inside your loins, calling to him like a siren song.

“Watch,” he murmurs darkly, his other hand rounding the back of your neck so your gaze is tilted down to where his cock nudges your opening.

So you do, as does he. Stare down to where your body meet, hissing loudly as his tip slips inside your soaked channel. Your eyes want to roll back at the sheer overwhelming sensation of it, but equally, it's such an enthralling sight that you can’t look away.

He moans loudly, lewdly, decadently as he pushes further into your heat, pausing to readjust your legs wider and tilt your pelvis more open.

“This next part may hurt, darling,” he whispers quietly, the first time he has ever used such an affectionate term for you, making your heart race. 

“It's alright,” you reassure mutely in return, “I have heard as such.”

The hand around the back of your neck slides gently until he tilts your chin up to meet his tender gaze.

“You are quite the woman,” he says, almost reverential, as he leans in and captures your lips in a sweet, soft kiss. 

The movement propels his cock deeper into your body, and you cry out into his open mouth at a stab of sharp pain inside. 

“That's it done,” he mutters reassuringly into your lips as you whimper gently. 

He stills as you adjust to the girth, the heat, and feeling so very filled.

“More…” falls from your mouth spontaneously, the want rising, hungry for a need to be met, a thirst slaked, unlike anything you have experienced.

The smile that breaks out over his face makes your nipples pebble hard in your stays, and he slides deeper as you cling to him, exhaling unevenly as he keeps sinking further into your pussy, pushing you open. Just when you think you cannot take more, he stops, and you feel his body pressing wholly against yours.

You stare at each other, eyes wild and wide, unable to form words but knowing instinctually how good this feels for both of you. He looks untamed, something urgent rippling in his being. And without breaking the gaze, he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock is inside you, then ploughs back in, in one determined, decisive stroke.

You don't stop the decadent noise that escapes your lungs, your toes curling into the soles of your feet at how wonderful and all-encompassing that feels. Same as you don't miss the victorious smirk on his face at your reaction.

Then it’s a hungry blur of movement as your hands grab his biceps through his clothing, clinging on for dear life as he proceeds to move just like that first thrust. Over and over. Building in pace and with increasing intensity, him sensing your need for such things.

“Anthony…” his name spills over your lips again, and the impact on him is nothing short of extraordinary.

His hands clamp vicelike to your hips, branding heatedly over your skin through your dress, straining the tendons of your inner thighs as he pushes your legs open impossibly wide, his pelvis crashing into yours in a way you are certain may leave bruises. And what shocks you most is just how much you want it. Want him to leave signs of his presence, want to look in the mirror and see the outline of his digits in the globes of your bottom.

He moans your name, hot and desperate, into your ear, his pace never wavering, a drop of sweat forming on his forehead that you can't look away from when he pulls back to tilt your heads together.

“I want to see,” you stumble out, pantingly, as he takes you harder.

“See what?” he sounds almost winded, his thrusts still spearing his cock into your body.

“See you entering me,” you huff into his cheek.

His responding noise is feral and has every inch of your body alight. He bows his spine outward so your bodies only touch where you are joined, and his hand feels heated and heavy on the back of your neck as you tilt your chin down to take in the sight.

His cock, rigid and huge, ploughing repeatedly into your body, shining with a slick substance you can only assume is from within you, the sight making you shudder, but not with anything approaching disgust. It’s something primal. A need to chase a conclusion, the power of the vivid tableau burned into your retinas.

“Don't stop, please don't stop,” you petition, looking back up to his face, your hands sliding up and down his torso now, raking urgent fingernails over his clothing.

He swears, and his lips are back on yours, searing and demanding. This feels like a frantic wave you are riding together, a trickle of moisture running down your spine as you start to push your hips forward as much as you can, meeting his thrusts halfway.

“You are fucking perfect,” he snarls over your tongue, and you couldn't agree more.

Time seems elastic as he lowers you so your back rests on the piles of no doubt important paperwork, not that he pays it any mind, him hunched over you, pulling your hips out over the edge now, the range of motion it allows him making you gasp. He is taking you without mercy now, breath hot on your throat as he moans your name, his hand squirrelling between your bodies and making your vision dance with dots as he passes a slightly calloused tip over your clit.

“Come for me,” he breathes, the request both hopeful and commanding.

“What does that mean?” your question puffed into his lush hairline.

“Oh my darling, just you wait,” his voice dripping with promise even as your skin feels like it wants to vibrate off your very bones as his fingers and cock take you somewhere you never envision. An ecstasy both outside but rooted deep in your being.

He murmurs encouragingly as you struggle for air, your lungs burning, scarcely remembering to breathe, skating some kind of precipice that feels dangerous and addictive. Then, with a flick of his thumb and a gentle bite of your earlobe, you fall into an abyss. Everything all at once quiet and loud, eyes screwed shut as colours burst behind them, and every fibre of your being seems to snap and break, rearranging in a mind-shattering way. Your pussy convulsing hard around his cock that now seems impossibly large.

Then, with a deep booming cry, you feel him lance deeper than ever, his whole body tensing and jerking. A warmth spreads inside, and you vaguely realise he is reaching completion, spilling his seed inside you. For what seems like ages, your mind and body float somewhere, utterly sated, suddenly understanding why this act can be so all-consuming and there is so much written of it.

When your mind returns to the room, you are panting into each other's necks, both breathlessly stunned at how animalistic your first intimacy was. Somehow, your antagonistic chemistry transmuting into an explosive, consuming passion.

“We are going to bed right now,” his tone wrecked, rough, so damn irresistible you want to bite his flesh, even while you still recover from what transpired. Fires stoked again just by those seven words.

He pulls up his trousers haphazardly, picks you up bridal-style, and sweeps you out of his office and up the grand staircase, ignoring the shocked looks of staff at your torn dress and his roughly pulled clothing. 

“We are not to be disturbed,” he barks at his valet, who blanches and leaves the room as Anthony practically throws you onto his imposing four-poster bed. Then, as you lay there, he strips naked before you, and you want to nuzzle every inch of his toned, magnificent body. 

___

It’s three days before you reemerge from what is now your joint bedroom. From that day on, you are never without your husband for more than two days; such is your magnetic need for each other. And when your belly swells with the first of your many children, he confesses his ardent, undying love for you, you returning the sentiment instantly, having felt the same for what seems like forever. 

A hurried, naive pact between two proud, independent souls becoming something wholly other—a loving, passionate marriage of equals. You still squabble with unerring frequency, but now it ends in lovemaking, the intensity sweeping you both into an ephemeral bliss.

A beneficial arrangement indeed.

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies @m-rae23 @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @vane28282 @kisskissshutmydoor

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[kylopen]

Yes, My lord?

18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: Brain rotting SMUT, barely any plot, reader is 1 month pregnant (you could probs imagine she is not if you really wanted to) Mentions of body insecurities, super fluffy, Anthony is so whipped for Y/N. Borderline pregnancy/breeding kink? switch reader, switch Anthony. unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it guys.

Summary: Since finding out you are pregnant Anthony simply cannot keep his hands to himself, and when you turn the tables his arousal runs wild.

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton X Reader

Masterlist

Length: 1.8k words

Note: I could NOT get this scenario out of my head, i had to get this written and published *sobs*

----

"That was a rather delightful evening"

You smile as you and Anthony ascend to your bedchamber for the night. The two of you had planned a ball to tell your family and friends the news of your pregnancy. The night was filled with laughs and joy from the family, excited about Anthony's first child with you.

The two of you approach the door and Anthony opens it for you, ushering you inside.

"Indeed, dear wife."

Anthony's eyes crinkle lightly at the sides as he smiles at you, approaching you from behind, fingers expertly undoing your corset. You sigh in relief, goosebumps on your skin at the feeling of release from your day clothes. Turning to face him you also begin to help Anthony from his clothes as he laughs lightly at your eagerness to help him.

Now nude in the middle of the room, Anthony looks you over in the faint candle light, his hand softly moving along the curves of your body. He follows closely behind as you perch yourself at your vanity, ready to take out your elaborate hairstyle. Anthony's hand gently pushes yours away from your head as he begins to take it out for you, looking at you through the mirror. His gaze was intense but loving, his eyes trained thoroughly on your flustered response to the intimate gesture.

"Look at me"

The sentence was commanding but gentle. You lift your eyes and he reaches for the hairbrush just beside you on the table. he begins slowly brushing your hair, gently getting rid of any knots or tangles. Anthony was always a gentle lover, but immediately after finding out you were carrying his child he became dead set on helping you with what he could. His tender nature shining through as he aids you in your bedtime grooming process. The feeling of his hands softly grazing your neck as he brushes has you in a trance, the soothing feeling of knowing you are safe and well taken care of my a man that loves you.

He begins massaging your scalp carefully as you let out a hum of approval. Anthony lets out a quiet laugh as he watches the bliss form on your face.

"I love you, Mr Bridgerton" you tease his formal name.

"Likewise, Mrs Bridgerton, I will love you for the rest of my life"

Butterflies flutter around in your stomach as you realise just how exposed the two of you are. Then it dawns on you, looking down at your puffy stomach, feeling as though you have already gained some baby weight. It had only been a month and you weren't even really showing yet. A flash of insecurity dances across your features at the thought of getting bigger. At this point, the Viscount could read you like a book and he stops his movements in your hair to lean down and kiss your head.

"Speak what is on your mind, my love"

You think for a second before answering.

"...My... Body..." you trail off.

"You are the most beautiful woman i have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. Even more so now you are carrying our child."

You look down and pinch your widened hips, and in response Anthony moves your hand away, caressing you. He then grabs your hand, pulling you up to stand with his chest touching your back.

"There is nothing more appealing to me than my beautiful wife swelling with my seed..." his eyes darken at the thought as he begins to pepper kisses along your jawline and neck, lightly nipping and sucking and you shiver in his arms.

Heat rushes straight to your cheeks and in between your legs as you feel a solid length press against your lower back. You breath out shakily as he presses it harder against your backside.

"Anthony..." You moan softly, bordering a whimper.

The second he hears his name from your lips in such a tone he struggles to hold back, the heat in the room thickening with lust. He pushes you gently onto the bed and settles himself behind you, spooning you. His slightly rough hand glides slowly up and down your side, upper thigh to hip to shoulders. He caresses every part of your body paying extra attention to the parts you were most conscious about. You let out more whimpers from the intimacy of it all, your face feeling incredibly hot and you squirm under the touch. Your thighs squeeze together to relieve yourself in some way, only making Anthony smirk and his touches becoming more daring. His fingertips ghost along your nipples, but fall back down elsewhere on your body.

"Anthony... I am already-" you shudder as he passes by a particularly sensitive spot. "I am already pregnant..."

His laugh rumbles against your back.

"I am aware. That does not mean we cannot enjoy each others bodies hm, dear?" His tone was devilish as his touches become more bold. You flip onto your back and slightly part your legs with a pleading look to Anthony.

"So needy and impatient Viscountess Bridgerton" He tuts with a smirk.

Deciding to take matters into your own hands you launch up, planting yourself on top of him with heated cheeks. If he will be so cruel and tease you even in his aroused state, you would use him yourself. A look of surprise flashes across his face before it grows into an incredibly cocky looking grin. His body betrays him, as his chest rises and falls at a fast pace.

"What is this? darling wife." he cocks his head to the side, the same grin on his face. His eyes hold a fiery hunger.

"It seems, dear husband-" you adjust yourself just enough to tease his length and he softly moans, "That you enjoy your Lady wife taking control" you smirk, a new found confidence flowing through you at the look of your husband from above him.

He grabs your hips with both hands and grinds your core against him.

"My Lord" you moan, breathless, aware of what the title does to him.

"Y/N... I am warning you-" he begins to speak, using your name but you cut him off, pinning his hands above his head.

"Yes, My Lord?" You smirk at him as you lean in close, your lips ghosting his, only to pull away when he goes in for a kiss. You keep one hand holding his up as your other hand begins exploring your husbands chest, teasing him the way he was teasing you. Your finger lightly brushes against his groin before going up to his nipple, softly pinching the bud and a guttural moan escapes his mouth.

"How improper my Lord" you feign a gasp and he lets out a soft chuckle at your words, enjoying the confidence from his beautiful wife. The thrill and excitement from you pinning his hands above his head is almost too much to bare as he gets impossibly harder against your core. He couldn't dare say it aloud but the feeling of being at your mercy, a simple toy to you made his body weak. He could very easily remove his hands from your grasp and the two of you know it, and yet he does not move.

You plant hot, open mouth kisses on his chiseled chest, your arousal already coating his groin. he shudders under your touch and the wet feeling on his lower torso.

"You seem excited my Lord... Has something got you so?" you cock your head to the side, feigning an innocence and he groans at the sight of the same woman he gave her first orgasm to have him completely at her mercy.

"I could ask you the same thing, My dear" His tease came across in gravelly voice that screamed he was ready to take you here and now.

His cock sandwiched firmly between his abdomen and your wet pussy, you begin to rock your hips back and forward, sliding easily. The pressure on your clit had you whimpering and had him moaning in a deep voice.

"You are going to be the death of me" he looks deep into your eyes as you slide him inside you, the two of you moaning at the feeling. The teasing you both had endured was very clearly affecting you both, being incredibly sensitive.

He watches with hooded eyes as you bring your hand to your clit and begin to stimulate yourself. He could have sworn he died that very moment at the sight. It was not long at all until you came, and he relished in the feeling of your cunt throbbing around him.

"Y/N" He moans, moving his hands to your hips, squeezing the soft flesh.

"Do you wish to finish my Lord?" You smile sweetly.

"Yes I do, my dear" His reply full of lust, and a hint of neediness.

"Beg" The sweetness was immediately replaced with cockiness.

The command was simple but powerful as you look into his eyes, holding his jaw with your hand. He felt a shock wave of pleasure shoot through his body.

"Please..." his flustered face was incredibly cute.

"You can do better than that" you move slightly, to tease the feeling.

"Please! Oh god please" you almost came at the sound of his begs.

"You are free to do so... My Lor-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he sat up, you still on his lap and inside him. His hands grasped at your hips as he bucked up into you, his moans coming out as grunts mixed with whines. Hitting up into your g-spot mixed with his needy grunts and thrusts you came again, causing his orgasm to reach its peak, he continues to bounce you on top of him as he spills his seed deep inside of you.

Anthony falls back, his face delirious and euphoric, yours looking similar as you flop down onto his chest, his cock still buried inside you, slowly softening.

Within minutes he snaps out of it, gently pulling you off him, and onto the bed, approaching a second later with a wet towel he opens your legs and cleans you up, slightly smirking at the mess and your flustered face. after cleaning you up he places a soft kiss to your inner thigh and crawls back into bed with you.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and you move your head onto his chest, feeling exhausted. The room was filled with your soft snores in no time at all and he places a kiss on top of your head, a smile on his face as he looks at you.

"I am incredibly lucky to have you, my beautiful wife" he whispers before softly touching your stomach.

"And you too, my beautiful baby"

~End~

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #Anthony Bridgerton x Y/N #plus size reader #x female reader #smut #bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton smut #fanfiction #fanfic

[lydiimae]

The stars, the moon

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

18+ MDI!

Warnings: Talk of drinking, sexist old ideas about women, talk of sex, Anthony being a cutie shhh, oral sex, penetrative sex, dirty talk, body worship (f receiving), heavy praise, lovemaking more than hardcore sex oopsies

A.N: YOU GUYS ARE SO SWEET TO ME ISTG T-T the love on my first two fics is so heartwarming. i'm so very glad you liked them both so much ^-^ Benny and Bridgerton as a whole are both so very important to me so i'm glad i did them both well. anyways my loves, this is an Anthony fic that i hope i can do as well as i did Ben. i was listening to Cosmic Love by Florence and The Machine and it gave me this idea! soooo here is an incredibly fluffy, (and smutty hehe) love filled Ant fic hehe<3 enjoy and thank you again <3 p.s that scene the gif is from sends my mind into a spiral CONSTANTLY my roman empire fr p.p.s I FINALLY GOT DIVIDERS, so now my fics will look a little cleaner i hope hehe >_<

Growing up next to the Bridgertons had been fun and eventful, to say the very least. You were there through every trial and tribulation their family had gone through, and them with yours.

You and your three sisters had always gotten along with the seven siblings. Being the youngest and most... rambunctious of them you had gotten along with Eloise and Benedict the most. They had views of marriage and duty that were similar to yours, and when you were younger you and Benedict would spend hours making doodles on the walls of the gardens at your estate.

Your sisters, who were much more of the traditional women you would often find in the ton, tended to be more akin to the eldest Bridgerton brother and sister. Daphne and Anthony, however kind and loving they both were, were always too strict or, in Daphne's case, too proper for your liking.

You had always thought of Anthony as the moon. He thrived in darkness and was often gone before you even noticed he was there. You never knew why he left balls early, or why you spotted him with that opera singer in the deepest corners of gardens or tucked away in libraries.

Until you grew up, that is. The first time you snuck out of the confines of your room was when you were ten and eight, right after the first ball of your first social season. Benedict had insisted on you sneaking out the window of your bedroom so you could tag along with him to a party a fellow artist was throwing, and you, out of pure curiosity, obliged.

You got there and had your first everything while Benedict was painting, or so he claimed, in another room. You kissed the lord, whose name you cannot remember to this day, and then you went beyond that. Sex. It was wonderful, you decided, and from then on you had much more of it.

Anthony was perceptive, he noticed the change in your behavior and one night even decided to ask Benedict about it. Benedict being Benedict told him everything in his usual carefree manner, not thinking twice about it. Anthony reacted quite strangely however, he just... turned on his heel and walked into his study, locking himself in for hours.

He avoided you at all costs from then on. It was strange, but then again, he was the moon. The moon cannot be out forever.

Anthony had always thought of you as the stars, a happy, mischievous young woman who thrived in the dark. You provided a light to every room you walked into that was too great for anyone to look away from. You were intricate, difficult to read and figure out, and yet you were also so intriguing that every man wanted to do just that.

You were also incredibly mischievous, he knew that from the moment you were born. Being eight years older, and a close family friend, Anthony was one of the first who got to meet you. You had always had that sparkle in your eye, like you were in on this grand plan that no one else was.

When you got older, it only got worse. You were constantly getting in trouble, whether that be drawing on your garden's brick walls with his brother or reading books about math or, fittingly, astronomy. Your father always described you as boyish, to which he would have to agree. You got into fencing when you were ten and two and immediately had a knack for it. When you were six and ten, you snuck off with Benedict and got taught how to hunt.

He was never attracted to your sisters as they were too... boring for his taste. They had interests in things like the latest fashion trends, or hairstyles, and he was sure that none of them had ever glanced at a book. It was quite comforting to know, that because of your foolish ways and thinking, he would never be attracted to you either. Or so he thought.

You were wearing a light blue dress when you entered your first ball, your arm tucked snugly with your father's. Your hair was pinned up more elegantly than he had ever seen it, a few of the still unruly, wavy strands fluttering in the breeze that your white fan made. Stunningly gorgeous in every way, and so ladylike. It was strange.

He had almost assured himself that he would never feel this way towards any woman like you, after all, his list of requirements for the next Viscountess was long and specific, to say the least. Yet there you were, walking towards his family, and he was very much sure he was attracted to you.

So when he noticed the jewelry you started using to hide the dark marks on your neck and the silly excuses you would use to leave balls early, it was worrying. He asked Benedict and his worst fears were made a reality, your innocence was gone. You were loose, in his mind. He could not, no would not, be attracted to a woman without her maidenhead. He refused.

The only way he could avoid that attraction was to avoid you at all costs, which is exactly what he did. He excused himself from every room you walked into, and every conversation. On the rare occasion that you somehow managed to worm yourself into a conversation with him, however, he gave short answers and cold glares.

His heart ached when he noticed your light dim after he left, but then again you were the stars. All stars have to burn out someday.

You found his insistence on completely avoiding you to be quite tiresome, after all, you considered him to be like a brother. An annoying, headstrong, arrogant, prick of a brother but a brother nonetheless.

You look over your shoulder to where he is talking to a young debutante, wishing that he would at least glance over. You would never admit it to yourself, but after his company waned you missed it quite a lot. You could talk to Benedict or Eloise, sure, but there was something about annoying Anthony that made your heart flutter and your cheeks flush.

"Miss L/N, are you listening?" The lord, who you were supposed to be listening to, asks. You quickly turn back to him and part your lips to make an excuse, but quickly think better of it. "No, my lord. I apologize, my mind seems to be running from me tonight." You mutter with a soft smile. He nods in turn before continuing to speak about his latest hunting trip, in which you have absolutely no interest.

You excuse yourself when he is done rambling and make your way toward the Viscount, wanting to finally know the real reason why he has made it his life's mission to avoid you. You wish, so desperately, to see the moon again.

He sees you coming and his heart tightens, you look as beautiful as always. You are wearing dark blue, a gorgeous dress he thinks, and your hair is done up just how he likes it. You have on gold jewelry, which sparkles in the low candlelight with every step you take.

He should talk to you, he really should, and yet he cannot bring himself to. You are not the kind of woman he wishes to make the next Viscountess, not even close to checking off any of the boxes he has on his long list for what a woman should be.

So, instead, he settles for leading the young woman he is speaking with to the dance floor. He passes you without a word but falters momentarily when he catches a whiff of your perfume. Your scent, even.

You had always smelled, however strange it might sound, so comforting. Your family's colors were a light purple, the crest having two bunches of lavender flowers on it. You smelled the part, always having some semblance of lavender to you that wafted through the room whenever you entered. It wasn't strong, no, but it was just enough to get his heart racing. It wasn't just lavender that made it so intoxicating, there was something else there. Something that he could only describe as just... you. He smiles to himself at the many fond memories that come with it.

He catches the young woman looking at him in confusion and quickly puts on a straight face, continuing to walk her to the dance floor, but not before noticing the look of despondency on your face. His heart aches, but it must be done. He could not let himself fall for you, no matter how much he longed to see the brightness of the stars again.

Your heart breaks when he walks past you with nothing but a faint semblance of a smile, and for whatever reason, you feel yourself tear up. You wonder if you had done something wrong, or said something in a passing conversation that had rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps even entertained a man he had trouble with. Whatever it was, you did not like the unfamiliar feeling his avoidance brought.

Something that you had always hidden from everyone, including yourself, was your feelings. You felt no need to be a woman who expressed love openly, nor a woman who got teary at the slightest inconvenience. It is why you liked the parties you went to, sex and alcohol were wonderful to drown out feelings that you would rather not feel. Something else you had always hidden or shoved down, was your feelings for Anthony.

He was gorgeous, that much was obvious, what with his grey eyes and his thick brown hair. The things that you didn't like, such as his ignorant views of women, or his want to always be the best, were often drowned out by the fact that the man was extremely loving and protective of those he cared about. Not only that, but he was like you in that he was truly sensitive when he did not try and shove it down. He made you want to sing his praises from every balcony in London, to profess your love in front of all of the ton so everyone could see that he was yours.

You realize you have been standing in the same spot for what has to be at least five minutes now, and that a tear that had escaped in your reminiscing has now made it down your cheek. You quickly walk out to a balcony and lean on the railing, and for once, you allow yourself to cry.

He finds you after his dance with the incredibly boring debutante he decided to occupy himself with. He didn't want to find you, but his feet automatically found themselves to you. As if something deep inside him was naturally drawn to you and your stupid free-spirited nature.

He crowds around your back. "Is everything alright?" He whispers and is completely taken aback when he sees your face. You look up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks. It was surprising to say the very least as he cannot remember the last time he saw you cry. "My God, Y/N, what happened?" He asks, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder.

"Why do you hate me?" You whisper back, and he is even more surprised than before. Hate? God he could never hate you, sure he avoided you, but he could never truly hate anything about you. No matter how much he tried.

He was just standing there like he had not been avoiding you for the past two months. Like he had not ignored your every attempt to speak with him, like he had not completely shattered your soul. It made you so angry that you could not stop the foolish words slipping past your lips.

"It is as if I have committed a cardinal sin, as if I am some heathen you cannot stand to be around and not a woman you grew up with." You say, taking a deep breath as heartbreak shifts to anger. "It is not fair. I have wracked every corner of my memory trying to figure out what I have done wrong and still, I turn up with nothing. I..." You falter and turn to look up at the stars. "You are so distant. I find myself aching without you, Anthony. Like a piece of my soul has broken off with your disappearance and is with you for eternity." You whisper, closing your eyes briefly before turning back to him.

"I ask you again, why do you hate me? What have I done?" You plead, searching his eyes for any semblance of his old self. His eyes widen in response and he takes one of your hands. "I do not hate you. God Y/N, how could I ever hate you?" He breathes and your heart flutters at the look in his eyes. As if you are the only woman on earth. He has returned back to you. The moon has risen again.

"I... I have tried to hate you, yes, but every time you are near something in me longs to touch you in ways that would make any lady blush. I hate that you make me feel this way, so foolishly in love that I can barely form a coherent thought, that the Viscount I am becomes but a memory, but I could never hate you." He confesses, bringing his hands to your waist.

Your eyes water as he continues. "You are a loose woman, or so I so foolishly tried to make myself believe. I ignorantly put that label upon you so I could have a reason to not profess from every rooftop in London how much I adore you and I can never forgive myself for it." He whispers, wiping the tears that have somehow escaped your eyes without your knowledge. "I will never be able to profess how sorry I am, but I can hope that in time you can forgive me for how foolish I have been." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

"How long?" Is all you can manage to croak out in return to his beautiful confession, resting your hands atop his shoulders as your eyes flutter shut. "Since I was a young man, darling. Far too long I have kept it from you." He whispers back as your heart flutters at the title he has given you. "I have loved you since I was a girl." You whisper back. "So I suppose we are both fools." You grin.

He chuckles at that, his hands rubbing small patterns into the small of your back. "Always the witty one, hm? You are truly as bright and as mischievous as the stars, my love." Your heart hammers in the stars, at the way he calls you his love but even more than that, he thinks you to be the stars. "You and I have similar minds, Ant. I always thought you were like the moon, so serious and so attuned to darkness. Yet, so beautiful." You confess, opening your eyes to look into his own. Your cheeks flush at the sight that lies before you.

He is grinning, as if you had just given him the world. He leans in and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, to which you eagerly return as your eyes close and one of your gloved hands cups his cheeks. He pulls away after a moment. "The moon is nothing without the stars." He whispers, and you smile softly. "I shall ask your father for your hand come tomorrow if you let me." He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your brow.

Your heart flutters and you cup his cheeks. "I would love nothing more than to marry you, Anthony Bridgerton." You whisper and he grins, pressing his lips to yours once more. This kiss is more intense than the first, more confident as he knows that you are now officially his. You wish for nothing more than to melt into him, become his both body and mind for the rest of your days. The thought sends shivers down your spine, making your core heat up at the thought of finally sharing your most intimate self with the man who has plagued your thoughts for years.

As if reading your mind he pulls back, but only just. "Might I invite you back to my bedroom, my star?" He whispers, dipping his head down to press a kiss to your neck. You let out a shaky breath at the feeling and nod eagerly. "Please do." You whisper back and he grins, straightening back up and grabbing your hand before pulling you out to where the carriages are. Not before muttering something to Benedict, who smirks playfully and winks at the two of you in return.

One carriage ride full of open-mouthed kisses and love marks later and you are getting lifted out of the carriage and carried into the Bridgerton estate. You had so many fond memories here, you are elated that you would have the privilege of raising a family in the big estate. The thought of a family with Anthony makes your chest feel tight with emotion and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to calm yourself.

He notices the change of emotion as he carries you through the front door, ignoring the many questioning glances the both of you receive from the servants who still linger in the hallways, and kisses the top of your head. "What is it, darling?" He murmurs in your ear as he walks up the stairs, toward his bedroom.

"I am only being sensitive as I envision our future that I have for so long ached for." You whisper back, pressing a kiss to his neck to assure him that nothing is truly wrong. He groans a bit and smiles down at you as he ducks into his bedroom and places you on the bed. "It shall be a grand one. One filled with happiness and light, I assure you." He hums as he locks the door before climbing over you and peppering your face with kisses, which makes you giggle softly.

He moves his hands to your hair, taking out all of the intricately placed pins so he can see it in the state he loves the most, untamed and unruly, just like you. He runs his hands through your hair once he has it down, pressing kisses down your neck and to your collarbone which he bites. You whine softly at the feeling, but more so at the fact that you know he is going to leave marks. The thought of parading around a ball with his lovebites on your skin makes your cunt dampen and your thighs rub together in an attempt to relieve the ache that settles in your core.

He feels the movements of your body below him and groans as your knee brushes against his clothed cock accidentally, making him harden further than he already has. He continues to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as his hands move under you. He pulls you up to a sitting position and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the soft noises he draws from you as his hands move to your back to work on the buttons that hold your dress up.

His tongue slides into your mouth and he lets out a groan as he exposes your bare back, the choice you made to forgo any undergarments becoming the smartest one you made all day. He makes quick work of your dress, parting from your lips as he throws it across the room. "Christ." He growls when he sits back and gazes at your naked body.

Your nipples are peaked from both the cold air of the room and the arousal caused by the way he is gazing down at you. The look of pure desire in his eyes makes you flood down your thighs, which he picks up on instantly. He grins, almost a cocky grin, before removing his clothes from the upper half of his body.

He bends down when he is bare-chested and kisses from your collarbone, down to your right breast. He sucks on the soft skin just to the side of your hardened nipple, making your hips cant up and into his, a whine escaping your lips. He chuckles deeply and moves a hand to yours, so you can have something to hang onto, the other moving to hold your hip down.

He pulls up briefly and rests his chin on your chest, gazing up at you adoringly. "You are perfect, Y/N. Every mark, every blemish, every imperfection is so gorgeous. So perfect for me." He murmurs and you flush, squeezing his hand in yours as a silent thank you as you are unsure if you could even form a sentence now. "Mine." He murmurs with a soft smile before returning his attention to your breasts.

He takes your nipple into his mouth and you cry out at the feeling of his tongue swirling around the bud. You squeeze his hand and your back arches up into him, making him groan. He pushes you back down, all while his mouth sucks and swirls at your sensitive nipple, and rubs soothing circles on your hip with his thumb.

After a moment, he moves to your other breast, giving that one just as much attention. You whine as he bites down softly before pulling up and beginning to mark each of your breasts. He lets go of your hip and smears his hand down your thigh, gently parting your legs as he kisses down your stomach.

You gasp as he gives a kiss to your naval and look down just as he flashes a cheeky grin. He continues his trail of kisses right down to your patch of hair, your free hand grasping at the sheets while the other squeezes his. You cry out when he licks a stripe up your slit, his tongue pressing onto your swollen clit.

He takes the sensitive bud into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it slowly, his hand moving back to your hips when you whine and try to grind against him. You roll your head back, pressing it into the pillow. You get a whiff of his scent and it sends a zing of pleasure to your abused clit just as he moves his mouth down to your swollen hole to drink from you like a man starved.

You moan into his pillow, taking the fabric into your mouth and sucking as pleasure ripples through your entire body. He moves his mouth back to your clit as he pushes one of his fingers into your body, groaning at how tight you are. You cry out, the sound still muffled by his pillow, at the feeling of his finger and the vibrations his noises send through your body.

He adds another finger and begins to curl them into your walls, hitting that spongey spot that makes you scream. Your toes curl as he pumps his fingers in and out of your body in tune with the swirling of his tongue against your clit. You finally take your face out of his pillow. "Close... Fuck please please please, Anthony." You babble as you begin to see stars. You come screaming his name, his fingers gripping your hip so hard you're sure you will be marked there too.

He cleans you up with his tongue before returning to your lips and giving you a swift, but sweet, kiss on your lips. He sits up and slowly rids himself of his trousers, his cock standing proud against his stomach. The sight makes you mewl and spread your legs even wider in anticipation of him filling you until his tip meets your womb.

He settles between your legs and takes both of your hands in his, pressing his forehead to yours. "I love you, Y/N." He murmurs. "I love you, Anthony." You return, and his lips are on yours. He slowly pushes his cock into your body, groaning into your mouth as you moan into his. He bottoms out and lets you adjust, kissing down your neck to your shoulder.

You gently push your hips down as a signal that he can move, and he grins against your skin. He begins to slowly rock in and out of your body, groaning at the noises he draws from your cunt. "Faster, Ant. Please." You gust into his hair, squeezing his hands tight in your own.

He does not need to be told twice. He begins to slam into your body, making your toes curl as you scream out. He continues his brutal pace, the sound of body meeting body filling the bedroom. He presses his forehead to yours just as your eyes shut. "Look at me." He whispers, stalling for a moment. "I want to see how good I make you feel. I've waited far too long for you to hide, my love." He breathes, and you open your eyes.

He gives that stupid arrogant smirk before beginning to thrust into you just as hard as before as if he never stopped. Your mouth hangs ajar, your mind too focused on the feeling of his cock to even try and stop the moans that flow freely from your mouth.

He moves a hand down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and circling to the rhythm of his thrusts. He growls when you clench around his length and moan his name. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck. "Come with me." He whispers, biting down on the skin.

The action sends you over the edge. You come for the second time, screaming his name and he follows soon after, painting your insides with his seed. He works you through your orgasm before pulling out and nuzzling your neck.

After a moment he climbs off of you and saunters to his bathroom, leaving you dazed on the bed. You turn your head and press your face into his pillow once more, letting his scent calm you down. He returns a moment later and laughs warmly at the sight. You blush at the noise and look up at him. "Funny that," He says, gesturing to his pillow as he cleans your thighs with the washcloth he brought out. "I did the same thing today." He grins.

"Mmm. When was that, hm? Did you sneak into my bedroom?" You tease and he grins, shaking his head as he places the washcloth on the bedside and crawls into bed. "No, though I am flattered you would think I would be so bold." He hums, pulling you under the covers with him and taking you into his arms.

You smile softly and bury your face into his neck, closing your eyes. "I did it when I walked past you at the ball. The young woman I was talking to thought I went mad. I had to stop and think of all of the fond memories I have of you." He murmurs as he rests his head atop yours, kissing it softly before closing his eyes as well.

You smile softly at the thought of him stopping mid-step just to think of you. It warms your soul. "I love you." You whisper, slowly nodding off to the sound of his heartbeat.

"And I love you, my star." He whispers before following you into a deep slumber.

The moon truly cannot thrive without the stars.

#anthony bridgerton smut #fanfic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton smut #smut #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x female reader #y/n #x y/n #x reader #reader insert #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgertonx fem!reader #18+ only #anthony bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton oneshot #(?) #anthony bridgerton being a cutie pie stfu

[whispersoftheton]

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

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

Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: kissing, fluff, smut, p in v

Word Count: 1.2K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[eleanor-bradstreet]

Still Going (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader)

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader Rated/warnings: T - suggestiveness, language, panic attack, feels Word count: 1.4k

Summary: A meaningful moment with your new husband. Author's Note: This is just a lil idea that popped into my head last night. Inspired by just wanting to hug the sad!Anthony from one of @fayes-fics stories. Thank you to @colettebronte for helping me pin down the right moment for the header. 💙

Months into your marriage and your husband still left you numb with pleasure each and every night as you tumbled with one another across your bed. Two things had become abundantly clear to you soon after marrying Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. First was the reason unmarried young ladies were not allowed in private company with young gentlemen, particularly of the rakish variety. And second was that you were one of the lucky ones who did not view cavorting with your husband as some sort of grueling, customary duty for the sole purpose of conceiving children. No indeed, it was proving to be the highlight of your life together as he unlocked unimaginable sensations within your body that left your mind soaring even as you lay limp and panting in his arms.

It was in just such a moment on a still summer night at Bridgerton House that you both collapsed back into the pillows together, spent and euphoric from your lovemaking. You chuckled, nuzzling in close to Anthony’s side as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. You were fuzzy, lapsing into welcome sleep when he leaned away to reach for something on his nightstand. Then you heard the small clatter, immediately followed by his hissing curses.

“Dammit! No…” He rolled away from you, sitting on the edge of the bed as his voice rose in volume. “No, no, no. Fuck!”

Your eyes flew open to see his broad back hunched over, clutching something in his hands. You gathered the sheet around yourself and shifted to sit behind him. “Anthony? What’s wrong?”

In the low moonlight from the windows you could see he cradled his pocket watch in his palm, a splintering crack now etched across its face. His shoulders were beginning to heave, his breath growing short as he stared at it, transfixed. “It broke…” he croaked. “It…it just fell. I’ve dropped it before, but it broke and I…” He was gasping now, fighting for air like a drowning man as his eyes darted and his hands began to shake.

You had seen this before, one of his spells when fear and overwhelm consumed him. It had happened when his youngest sister had broken her leg during childish roughhousing, again when his brother had received an innocuous bee sting, and again when you had come down with a nasty but passing fever after your honeymoon. Every time someone he loved found themselves in harm’s way he was liable to lose control of his faculties, only temporarily, as his mind spun toward the worst possible conclusions. You knew why he suffered this way and didn’t judge him for a moment. Instead, you had committed yourself to bolstering him through the storms, learning techniques that helped call him back to himself.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and felt how he trembled.

He continued mumbling to himself, eyes locked on the watch, each word rasping. “It broke…I can’t…what do I…”

“Anthony?” You kept your voice clear and steady. “Anthony, look at me.”

He turned and you were nearly undone by the anguish you found in his eyes. You brought a hand to his cheek and pressed your foreheads together, his frantic exhales gusting across your skin. “My love, it’s alright.” You soothed, stroking his face and running your fingertips into his hair, imploring him to hear you. “You must control your breath. Anthony, follow me.” Reverting to what had worked before, you took his hand and gently guided it to press flat over your heart. You did the same, bringing a hand to rest on his heaving chest so that you mirrored one another. Tears threatened to form at the terrified pounding you felt under your fingertips, something so vulnerable within your husband who was otherwise a pillar of strength.

He was still panicked, nearly vibrating against you as he choked for air, but you kept your breath slow and deliberate, leading him out of the tempest with something solid and rhythmic. After a few moments he fell in sync with you, shuddering inhales that struggled to pace with your own, and desperate exhales as he released the disquiet that surged through him. His pulse began to slow, ever so gradually, and you felt the tension begin to melt out of his frame. He still clutched the watch tightly in his free hand, but the one against your skin grew soft and warm again as he regained himself.

“That’s it. Very good. Everything will be alright.” You cooed, running your thumb over his cheek. You hated that he was faced with such demons and were grateful that your methods of combatting them seemed effective. Anthony sagged against you, starting to breathe through his nose as he settled back into equilibrium. He was always exhausted after his episodes.

“Let me see.” You dropped your hands and gently pried the pocket watch out of his, inspecting it. As far as you could tell the damage was only superficial. Just a fracture in the glass but the mechanism was still ticking. “We can get this repaired.” You reassured him.

He looked back at you, eyes huge and pleading. “It was my father’s watch.”

This was a fact you knew well, with Anthony himself having told you many times before. It wasn’t that he thought you ignorant, it was the anxiety of the moment speaking for him.

“I know, my love.” You nodded. “It is precious. But it is not broken. It’s only the glass that is cracked, see? It’s still going.” You held the timepiece next to his ear so that he could hear its steady ticking for himself. Undeniable relief lit across his face as he let out a shaking exhale, inclining himself to listen more closely. The tempo of the watch gears proved as soothing to him as the beating of your heart. You smiled, knowing the worst was behind you. “First thing tomorrow, I’ll take it to the jeweler and have the glass replaced.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, Anthony nodded. Then he turned to kiss your wrist and place the watch safely in the drawer of his nightstand. Sliding back into the center of the bed, he wrapped you in his arms and burrowed down into the sheets, breathing deep into your hair as he pressed you to his warm, naked torso. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’m sorry you have such a fool for a husband.”

You pouted. “Why would you say he is foolish?”

“Because he goes to pieces over something as silly as a broken watch.” 

“I don’t think it’s silly.” You stretched an arm across his chest, tucking your head under his chin. “I think it speaks to how deeply he cares for his family. How much he honors his father’s memory, like a true gentleman.”

“Mmm. True gentlemen should not fall prey to such reckless displays of emotion.” He fell back into his Viscount’s tone, bitter and exacting. His censure in that voice was cutting to anyone but most of all to himself. His brutal self criticism had nearly come in the way of your betrothal, and it was something you were actively encouraging him to reduce. Particularly in this matter where he was so obviously not at fault, you would not allow him to chastise himself. You saw things from another perspective entirely.

After a moment, you spoke softly. “I think it may be your heart’s way of asking to be heard.”

Anthony scoffed. “You think I have one?” Not the reaction you wanted, but perhaps the one you should have expected. 

You pulled back to meet his eyes, arms still banded tightly around one another. When you looked at your husband, the most handsome man you had ever seen, the man who had fought for your affections and filled your life with wonder every day since he had won them, you felt nothing but certainty.

“I know you do. I have seen it.”

His features softened, brows turning up as his warm eyes grew misty. With the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, he lovingly brushed a hand along your cheek. “You have seen it?”

“Yes, and in time you will see it too.” You smiled and leaned up into his gentle kiss then returned to lay your head on his chest, trailing your fingers languidly through the dark hairs found there. “I would not have married you if you did not possess one. It is nothing to be ashamed of, Anthony.” You curled more tightly against him, pressing your ear down until you could hear the proof of it. The heart that you loved so dearly, the one bound to your own, now returned to its strong and constant cadence.

“It is beautiful. It may have some cracks, but it is still going.”

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #female reader #fluff and feels #romance #regency romance

[weirdmorefics]

Hello! Love your Bridgerton fics, I was wondering if you could do a Anthony x wife!reader and she’s like the complete opposite to him (personality wise) sorta like grumpy x sunshine trope? Have a good day/night 💙

Sending love from Scotland!

A/N- Hi! Thanks for waiting for me to make the request! I can't believe someone so far away sees my silly little fanfics. I love the internet

Pronouns- She/Her

Word Count- 533

Tooth rotting fluff

Summary- Anthony has been doing everything to get Eloise to participate in the balls and behave at least somewhat ladylike. He loses his temper but the reader is there to calm the nerves of everyone.

The Rainbow After The Rain

"Eloise!" I hear Anthony shout so loud as it reverberates off our window window panes. I quickly draw the curtain back to see the commotion. Eloise seems to be simply sitting on the tree swing reading however, the whole house is aware of the fact that we are late to the ball. This wouldn't have been such a big argument if it weren't for this particular ball being Eloise's introduction to society. I sigh and put the curtain back to where it once was and make my way to the garden.

The two don't seem to notice my appearance too involved in their battle of wits. I clear my throat to hopefully garner some of their attention to no avail. Eloise is going on about how barbaric the whole tradition is and how she does not wish to marry and Anthony is shouting about she is already dressed and no one is asking her to marry someone tonight. I clap my hands twice loudly which finally snaps their eyes up to my presence.

Anthony's once furrowed angry eyebrows turn into a soft gaze, "Darling."

I ignore Anthony and go straight to Eloise. I can tell by the way his hands instantly turn to fists he is angry with my actions.

"Now Eloise, is my dear husband bothering you?" I say with a sweet smile.

"Indeed, he is being quite troublesome," Eloise smirks as we tease Anthony together.

"Isn't he always," I look at Anthony with love and his once tense shoulders seem to relax at the familiar jest. "I must say Eloise you look absolutely handsome in your gown. I think it would be a waste to not let others see beauty. Do you really want your beauty wasted on your grumpy big brother?"

Eloise puts a finger to her chin in thought, "I suppose you are correct it certainly would be a waste on Anthony."

"Is Y/n not always right?" Anthony questions.

I get up on my tiptoes and place a chaste kiss on Anthony's cheek, "Aw, he is learning."

"Truly, Y/n where would be without you. Anthony would be all rain no shine."

"Lucky, for all the Bridgerton they won't ever have to find out." I smile widely at Eloise. "Now, shall we get you to your ball! I am sure your late entrance will just make you shine more." I link arms with Eloise to guide her to the carriage and my lovely Anthony links arms with my other.

"I think Y/n is more like my rainbow," Anthony interjects.

Eloise and I both turn our heads to look at him like he has utterly lost it.

"She is my light after the storm," he replies after seeing our confused faces.

I can feel my face instantly burn and I am sure I must look like a tomato as Anthony's face turns from love to a smug eating grin.

Eloise gags, "If you want me to make it to the ball I think it is best you do not make me vomit myself to death beforehand."

I bite my lip to stop the laughter but Anthony fully lets out a deep laugh, my favorite sound in the world.

#anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfic

[thetalkoftheton]

Anthony: I believe we all need to learn how to be more forgiving people.

Benedict: What did you do?

Anthony: Nothing!

Y/N: Anthony Bridgerton!

Eloise: Ooh, I think we are about to find out what “nothing” means.

#bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton reader insert #incorrect bridgerton #incorrect bridgerton quotes #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #bridgerton incorrect quotes #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #eloise bridgerton #eloise bridgerton imagine

[frost-queen]

Pride in a thunderstorm (Reader x Anthony Bridgerton)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Church bells rang as the few last of the ton arrived a church for a Sunday mass. The Bridgerton’s being one of them. All dressed in their Sunday’s best. Violet ran her fingers quickly through Hyacinth’s curls that looked out of place. Francesca noticed Colin’s tie hung sideways as she tapped him against his shoulder. Colin turned confused to her as Francesca pointed at his bow. Colin looking down widened his eyes in a brief panic and started working on his tie. Francesca sighed slapping his hands away so she could adjust it for him. Benedict was chatting with Eloise as they neared the church.

Gregory walking composed by Anthony. Anthony had his hands behind his back as his gaze rose resting on a person amidst the crowd. They were on you while you stood with your parents and many siblings. Four to be exact minus you. Five children in total. All girls of various ages. You stood with your eldest sister Julia. One would say the fairest out of all of you. Lillian and Kitty laughing loudly beyond themselves. The ever so quiet Mabel stood beside your father, looking down. Anthony quickly pulled his gaze away, feeling himself stare to much at you. Good thing you hadn’t noticed it.

All of you got in motion heading into the church. You mother flashed a smile with her fan at the preacher as it made you roll your eyes from embarrassment. Julia and you took a seat on the right side of the church. Julia’s ever so bright smile faded. You let your knuckle brush down her cheek, whispering encouraging words to her. She turned her head to you with a saddened smile. You knew it was a façade to hide her true emotions. One she hardly showed to anyone, too shy for it. Grabbing her hand you moved it to your lap. Mabel came sitting beside you as the rest of your family took a seat on the row behind you.

Lillian still snickering as your mother had to shush them. Your father looking at the preaching stool, waiting for the mass to begin as he didn’t notice the world around him burning. On the other side the Bridgerton’s took a seat. Anthony sitting himself down with Benedict and Hyacinth beside him. Violet sat a row behind with Colin, Eloise, Gregory and Francesca. The preacher went to his stool as the church went silent. All eyes to the front. He began speaking as his voice echoed from the walls. The roofing so high as it bounced his voice around.

You squeezed Julia’s hand tighter knowing just how heartbroken she was from Lord Bingley leaving her hanging. Leaving London without a word after every moment with him was magical. For the first time your sister had felt so in love with anyone. Lord Bingley being just the sweet character she needed. Yet now he had left leaving Julia heartbroken. Unsure what the sudden reason was for his departure in the midst of the social season.

The words of the preacher barely reached you as you were too deep in thoughts. Trying to think of signals you had missed. Something that would indicate that Lord Bingley did not like your sister. No that was out of the question. His affection was as clear as day. He only looked at her, he had no eyes for another. So what could make him leave. Had someone said anything to him? You kept breaking your head over it, thoughts spinning.

From behind you, you heard Lillian yawn and your mother lecture her about it in hushed voices. It made you take a deep breath, wondering why some of your family members were the way that they are. Julia had her head low as your eyes widened. Slowly turning your head to her. Her shoulders moving in shocks. She was sobbing quietly. You barely saw her cry. You wanted to place your hand on her shoulder as she got up. – “Sorry.” – she said to you, making her way for the back.

Keeping her head down so no one could see her tears. – “Julia.” – you whispered worried. Now that she had gotten up, you had a clearer view of the benches across. Amidst them the Bridgerton’s. All their eyes were turned to the front yet one pair was looking away. Staring right back at you. Anthony Bridgerton’s eyes were focused on you rather than the preacher. Suddenly something snapped inside of you. A connection made. You got up yourself taking a run for it.

It all came together like a tide-wave, crushing you underneath it. You left the church heading outside. Outside you panted loud needing air. A rumble sounded in the sky, making you look up. Lifting the hem of your dress up, you ran. Ran to get away from it all. With no destination in mind you just went. Running down the path that led you away from the church. The church grew smaller behind you as the rumbling in the sky continued. Before you knew you felt droplets on your head.

First a few than more. In a matter of minutes it was raining. The hem of your dress mudded. You reached a bridge that went over a stream as you went over it. Going to unknown places. The rumbling got louder as you were drenched. Mostly out of breath. In the distance you saw a pavilion. You decided to run for it running over the grass fields. Your shoes splashing in the squishy earth. Touching the stone of the pavilion you panted loud. Chest rising and falling out of control to steady your breathing.

Everything was wet. Your dress dripping on the dry stone leaving a pattern of wet. Slowly your breathing steadied when you leaned against the stone wall. Glancing to the side, you got startled by a sudden figure. Anthony Bridgerton standing drenched before you. His gaze fixated on you. If one was tentative of them they would see the yearning behind them. – “Miss Y/n.” – Anthony spoke out of breath. Your first reaction was to look down.

Avoiding those charming eyes of his. – “I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer.” – he continued making you slowly lift your head up to him. – “These past months have been a torment.” – he outed. – “I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you.” – he went on without giving you a chance to speak. – “I had to see you.” – he breathed out as you kept staring at him.

Perplexed and full of pride. – “I have fought against my better judgement, my family’s expectations all these things I am willing to put them aside and ask you.” – he kept speaking taking no notice of your feelings or desire to say something back. The prejudice inside of you growing at the arrogance of his attitude. Having no concern to you as he so loudly expressed himself without a warning. – “To end my agony.”

Finally you cut through his words. – “I don’t understand.” – to be clear his rambling was getting difficult to understand where he was going. – “I love you.” – he confessed in a matter of seconds. He fell silent as you could only stare at him in shock. – “Most ardently.” – he added upon your silence. He swallowed nervously, shifting his weight on his feet. – “Please do me the honour of accepting my hand.” – he asked, almost beggingly. Your mind was still spinning trying to process the heavy confessions made in a matter of minutes.

“My lord I…” – you began looking briefly down. – “I appreciate the struggle you have been through and I am very sorry to have caused you pain.” – you answered lifting your gaze back up with a slight hint of attitude. It was something you couldn’t hide away. – “Believe me it was unconsciously done.” – you finished with. The sarcastic undertone clear now. Anthony’s gaze had slightly hardened upon you. – “Is this your reply?” – he asked deeply. – “Yes, my lord.” – you responded immediately. – “Are… are you laughing at me?” – he wanted to know taking a step closer to you.

His posture suddenly hostile and defensive. – “No.” – you said loud. – “Are you rejecting me?” – his voice suddenly more agitated. – “I’m sure that the feelings which, as you’ve told me, have hindered your regard will help you in overcoming it.” – you answered bitsy. Not backing down from his sudden change in character. He took a quick breath with a simple nod. – “Might I ask why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus repulsed?” – he wanted to know.  – “And I might as well enquire why, with so evident a design of insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your better judgement!” – you ranted out.

“No believe me…” – Anthony fired back. – “If I was uncivil, then that is some excuse!” – you interrupted him needing it to be your turn to rant to him. – “But I have other reasons! You know I have.” – you exposed to him. – “What reasons?” – Anthony asked visibly confused. You slightly shook your head at the ignorance of him. – “Do you think that anything might tempt me to accept the man who has ruined, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?”

Finally Anthony realized it. He was gawking at you as the realization hit him of his actions. – “Do you deny it, Viscount Bridgerton?” – you asked. Anthony could only stare. – “That you separated a young couple who loved each other, exposing your friend to the centre of the world for caprice and my sister to its derision for disappointed hopes. And involving them both in misery of the acutest kind?” – you ranted needing your anger to be outed. It was all so clear he was the very reason for your sister’s unhappiness. Separating them when they were so clearly in love. How every could you marry such a man.

“I do not deny it.” – Anthony responded clear. His response made you feel disappointed. – “How could you do it?” – feeling yourself get emotional from the heartbreak he has caused your sister. – “Because I believed your sister indifferent to him.” – he explained. – “Indifferent?” – you nearly shouted out in disbelieve. – “I watched them most carefully and realise his attachment was deeper than hers.”  - Anthony answered to further explain his actions.

“That is because she is shy.” – you called out to him. – “Bingley, too, is modest and was persuaded she didn’t feel strongly for him.” – he replied loud. – “Because you suggested it!” – you accused. – “I did it for his own good!” – Anthony called back. – “My sister hardly shows her true feelings to me!” – you shouted at him. Anthony was silent, staring at you. His gaze slowly lowering to your mouth.

You smiled half trying to persuade yourself of the silliness of this conversation. That this was the way for Anthony to act so rashly. Because your sister was shy. It was almost laughable. – “I suppose you suspect his fortune had some bearing…” – you began as you just thought about it. – “No! I wouldn’t do your sister the dishonour!” – Anthony shouted back. – “Though it was suggested.”

“What was?” – you answered up most confused. – “It was made perfectly clear that an advantageous marriage…” – he started to explain as you interrupted him rudely. – “Did my sister gave you that impression?” – your voice shrieking a pitch higher. – “No! no!” – Anthony quickly defended. – “No… there was however, I have to admit the matter of your family.” – he went on. – “Our want of connection?” – you yelled at him furious.

Anthony turned his head away slightly vexed or bothered. – “Mister Bingley didn’t seem to vex himself about that!” – you called out to Anthony getting all worked up and thrown back into the discussion. – “No, It was more than that.” – Anthony replied looking back at you. – “How, my lord?” – you asked crossing your arms. – “It was the lack of propriety!” – Anthony confessed loudly. – “Shown by your mother, your three younger sisters, even, on occasions your father.”

The sky rumbled loud behind you as it had not stopped raining behind you. With shock you looked back at him. You knew your family wasn’t the most perfect, but they were still family. Anthony started to notice the impact of his harsh words about your family. – “Forgive me…” – he said in a softer tone. – “You and your sister I must exclude from this.” – he apologized with a soft bow of his head. The two of you were lost in each other’s gaze for some moments.

With a soft breath you felt yourself be drawn to his body. Wanting surprisingly to be closer to him. – “So how will you mend this?” – you offered, not wanting your dearest sister to remain in her unhappiness. – “Mend this?” – Anthony asked bluntly. – “Yes, your actions led to the unhappiness of my beloved sister. Wouldn’t you wish for a righteous when it involves one of your siblings?” – you suggested bringing his family into the matter.

“Well yes…” – Anthony stuttered out, briefly stunned with the ultimatum. – “Then set it right!” – you ordered taking a step closer to him. Anthony neared as well. – “Perhaps these offenses might have been overlooked had not your pride been hurt by my honesty…” – you told him. – “My pride?” – Anthony called out stunned. – “Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your circumstances?” – He replied getting up in your face.

It was intimidating how close he was to you. – “And those are the words of a gentleman.” – you replied angered at how he was looking down on you. – “From the first moment I met you, your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others…” – you went closer to him, forcing yourself closer to his face as it made him back a bit away. Intimidated by you now. – “made me realize that you were the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry!” – you called out with fury at him.

The rumbling went quieter in the background. You were panting a bit from having expressed yourself so openly. Anthony tilted his head a bit letting his gaze go from your eyes to your lips. He hesitated bringing himself closer to you. You felt yourself lean more to him as well. Suddenly yearning with desire. He hesitantly pulled back turning his posture away from you.

It made you exhale loud, shoulders slouching as the moment was broken off. Anthony paused letting his finger brush over his lips. He turned back around as it made you look back up to him. Wondering why he had turned back. He stared right at you. Slightly shifting his posture as a hunger set in his eyes. A more demanding approach as he went back to you. Confused you followed the movement of him, allowing your posture to face him fully. He grabbed for your waist and neck, pressing his lips onto yours.

Your eyes went wide as you did not intended this. His lips kissed your forcefully demanding to be satisfied. Slowly your eyes closed, kissing him with passion back. The rain had stopped leaving a dampness over the meadow. Anthony pushed you up against the stone, continuing to kiss you as if his life depended on it. Every inch of him wanted to love you, loved you. You were kissing him back till you suddenly opened your eyes. Pushing him off you and taking a run for it.

This was inappropriate. You had just declared to this man you could never marry him, yet here you were showing him just how much you wanted him. Then there was the matter of your sister. He was the cause for her unhappiness. You couldn’t this to your sister. Anthony watched you leave, with a deep breath. He touched his lips. The very lips that had kissed yours.

Something he couldn’t believe he had done. He had always been so civil, yet now it appeared his yearning for you took the better hand. He knew right now you wouldn’t want him. So he just had to make amends for the sake of your sister and yours. Hoping his act of kindness would bring you back to him. Where he most desperately wants you to be.

------------------------------------

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#imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #imagine bridgerton #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #pride and prejudice #colin bridgerton #violet bridgerton #the bridgertons #inspired by #enemies to lovers

[alewritesfics]

Love me again, please

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!reader

Word count: 5.6k

Summary: After a few years, you cross paths with the last person you ever wanted to

Warning: I do not know where I was going with this story at the end so I apologize if it is a little over the place but you all get the gist.

A/n: I'm also posting after months of posting nothing. Very sorry about that but well, I lost the motivation to write, with that being said, Serendipity is on hold for the moment. I have the story planned out but I have no idea what else to write so the main scenes may connect in the end. So I'll be taking my time writing that. Also, I have no posting schedule because I know I won't follow through with it so I'll be posting when motivation hits and I have a fic finished. Lots of love to everyone who takes the time to read this xx.

Forgiveness.

An action that is difficult for human beings to execute. We live in a world that in which resentment , anger and revenge win over anything else. We let ourselves be carried away by the teeth of hatred, that we never take into account that action.

Forgiveness brings us peace and it brings happiness because not only are you forgiving the other person, you are forgiving yourself. Forgiveness is the biggest act of love in this world, and we just have made it complicated.

Although as much as you preach for people to forgive, you yourself, haven’t got it in you to forgive that one person that wronged you so many years ago.

Oh, how you hated him.

The one person that made you fall in love with him, that made you question your morals and break your dignity, allowing yourself to be used as if you were a prostitute from one of the brothels downtown.

He promised you his love, whispered sweet noothings in your ear as he made love to you late in the evenings, when everyone was asleep, telling you to give him more time so he could sort out a few things before making you his wife.

Oh, how you hated him.

Like a fool, you believed everything he promised you, hope blooming inside you at his words, that was all you wished for, to become his wife. But for the meantime, you were happy being his mistress.

If the only way to be with him until he sorted everything out was by being his mistress, hiding in the shadows, where no one was watching, you would take it, you would give yourself to him.

Oh, how you hated him.

That is, until one day, he left you without any word.

He came to your room one evening, you were patiently waiting for him, readying yourself for what you thought would be another night of pleasure.

That is until he arrived and broke your heart.

Told you how he could not be with you anymore and that he would not be coming to your room anymore. When you kept on pleading with him not to leave you, that is when he changed to saying cruel, cruel things.

Like how did you ever believe he would actually marry you, and that he was only with you for the pleasure filled nights you provided, that you were just an easy prey, foolishly believing everything he said. Those words succeeding even further on breaking your heart.

Oh, how you hate – loathe him.

Oh, how you loathed him

Oh, how you really really loathed him

Oh………

how you wished you actually loathed or even hated him.

Because that is the truth, no matter how much he hurt you, no matter how the words he carelessly threw at you engraved themselves deeply inside you, how he completely broke you, even then, you still could not find it in yourself to hate him.

“Your grace?” you snapped out of your thoughts, turning your head to the side, looking at the footman questioningly “We are here, your grace”

You thanked him quietly before looking down at the toddler sleeping on your chest, brushing the hair that was covering her face away, caressing her chubby cheeks.

“Love,” you murmured stroking her head lovingly. Little Amelia moved, shaking her head before burying herself further into your chest “It is time to wake up, darling. Were you not excited to see grandmamma and grandpapa? What about your cousins, Charles and Elizabeth? You were delighted that you were going to be able to play with them”

She instantly sat up, rubbing away the sleep from her eyes “Oh! Charlie and Lizzie! Mama!” she squealed, suddenly very energetic “They said they would show me toys their mama and papa brought them” She clapped her hands and hastily exited the carriage once the footman opened the door.

“Careful” you called out after her, grabbing the blankets you previously set out for her to sleep more comfortably

“Amy!” you could hear your mother’s voice exclaim as you put your feet on the floor and looked around “Oh, look how big you’ve gotten sweet girl!”

“And so beautiful too, just as beautiful as her mother” your papa added happily, bringing you into a hug

“mama, papa, it is so nice to see you” You greeted happily returning the hug before pulling back “has Ed and Ellie arrived? Amy cannot wait to play with Charlie and Lizzie” you ask

“Oh! Yes, they are just inside, come on Amy, let us go see your aunt and uncle” your mama urged grabbing on to your daughter’s little hand, your father offered his hand to you which you rejected, shaking your head

“You three go on ahead, I just want to breathe in a little bit of fresh air, those few hours in the carriage made me a little nauseous” you breathed out, they nodded before walking away and leaving you alone. You sighed, turning to look you at the sky, letting the sun soak into your skin.

It is crazy how fast time passes. It seems like it was just yesterday when you got your heart broken. It seems like it was just yesterday when after getting your heart broken, you decided to move on away from him and instead marry a dear friend of yours.

Jacob Thornwell was his name, the duke of Rosehill, you had met him through your brother as they had gone to Eton together and you become close friends, close enough to marry each other. It wasn’t a marriage out of love but you both cared deeply and respected each other. What more could you have asked for?

You married him because you were heartbroken and wanted to move on and not give that person the satisfaction of seeing you broken, and Jacob married you to escape his family’s complaints.

After a week of mourning over your lost love, you went to him and proposed the idea, he accepted and soon after you married. You were happy, or at least the most happy you could be after getting your heart broken, but everything changed when a few months later, you had little Amelia.

Your world changed after that day, after you held your sweet babe in your arms, after she opened her eyes, those eyes she inherited from her father. And when her little lips formed into a small smile, you knew you would do anything for your daughter, she was now the most important person in the whole world and you would protect her against everything.

You let out a deep breath closing your eyes, after a few moments opening them once again, you turned your head to the side, your body filling with dread when you saw a familiar person looking back at you from across the street.

Your heart started to race when he opened his mouth to say something starting to cross the street , you turned on your heel and entered your parent’s home, not letting him even say anything. You close the front door loudly and lean your body against it, holding your hands close to your chest, willing your heart to slow down.

“Y/n?” You hear your mama’s voice speak up, you turn to look at her, mustering up a smile “Are you alright, dear?”

“Yes, yes I am” you breathed out “I just thought I saw a bug, you know how I get when I see one” you let out a fake laugh, giving a shudder as If you were disgusted to make it more believable

Your mama nodded her head, not quite believing you but deciding to let it go “Of course” She then gestured to the drawing room “Come on now, your brother is anxious to see you” you now smile genuinely before following behind her

After greeting your brother, you were seated on a couch, looking at your daughter and her cousins playing happily in the middle of the room, a smile laying on your face, although that smile faded once you remembered your brief interaction, if you could even call it that, with that man across the street.

How dare he? How dare he look at you as if he was shocked you were in front of him, as if you were the one who had broken his heart and cut all contact with him after, how dare he even try to approach you after everything he did..... after everything he said?

What you would have given to know how he had felt in that moment. That moment when your heart was cracking into a million pieces, that moment where you were crying out for him not to go because you needed him. You wondered how he felt. Did it even hurt him as much as it hurt you? Did he feel that painful tug in his chest or the lump in his throat like you did? Did he even love you as much as you loved him?

You curse the day you met Anthony Bridgerton.

That man was your ruin.

You take it back.

You curse the moment you let your mama convince you to go to the ball Lady Bridgerton was hosting.

Not only because you had to leave Amy at home but because there was also a 50 percent chance that you could encounter Anthony Bridgerton at any given moment, and that was the last thing you wanted to do tonight.

“Fancy seeing you tonight” someone spoke up beside you, you look up, coming face to face with the last person you wanted to see.

Oh, just your luck.

“Lord Bridgerton” You uttered looking back at the couples dancing in the middle of the room

“Miss Y/n – oh, my apologies, I forgot you are now the duchess of Rosehill” he muttered unapologetic “Your grace,” he said sarcastically holding back a scoff, you look up at him once again, sending him a glare

After a few moments of silence, he spoke up “Are you not even going to say anything?”

You sighed angrily, the last thing you wanted to do right now was speak to him “There is nothing to speak about, Viscount Bridgerton”

He scoffed rolling his eyes “Surely you cannot be serious” he grabbed your arm and pulled you into an empty corridor after making sure nobody saw you both “Let us start with something simple, how about the fact that you married Jacob Thornwell when you knew damn well I did not like him”

“Excuse me?!” You scoffed angrily“Who I married is none of your concern”

“None of my concern?” He laughed humorlessly “None… of….my….concern?”

“Yes," you reply “None of your concern, you did not have any say in who I married and whether you liked him or not. Well, guess what? I did not care, not.one.bit” You snapped “ You were the one that left me! Might I remind you of that night when you came into my room and told me all kind of horrible things?”

“I-“ he tried to cut in

“No, no, let me speak!” you glare at him “You told me I was just an easy lay, you told me you didn’t ever have any plans of marrying me and were only looking for an innocent, naïve, foolish little girl who you could fool into sleeping with you. You told me I was a fool for believing everything you ever told me”

“Y/n-“

“Let me speak!” you breathed out harshly, Anthony went silent “Do you have any idea how horrible I felt? How broken I felt? You were the first man I was ever with, the first man who paid even just a little bit of attention to me. The first man I ever loved…. I really loved you, Anthony… I loved you so much that it consumed me entirely. And you left me” you chuckle emotionlessly “But do not worry, I feel nothing for you anymore”

“You seduced me, ruined me, and then left me. I gave you what I should have only given my husband, I was really lucky that Jacob was understanding because if not, I never would have been able to marry, god knows no one would want damaged goods” you shake your head “But I am also grateful, because you showed me how cruel men could be. You showed me how foolish I was for thinking you actually cared about me and you made me realize that I never should have loved someone as heartless as you” you scoffed and turn around, walking away from him, back to the ball

“Y/n, wait!” Anthony called out “Let me explain- y/n- let-“ you ignored him, whatever he was saying now drowned out by the music playing.

“Mama! Look!”

You turn to look at your daughter, she was pointing to a butterfly that was standing on top of a flower. You smiled at Amy, “Yes, it is very beautiful, sweetheart”

Amy smiled and ran to another part of the park “Careful,” you called out to her “And stay where I can see you”

You take a look around the park, looking for any signs of your parents but they seemed to be nowhere. You sighed and sit on a bench nearby where Amy was running around. You groan when you felt your favorite necklace become loose once again, falling down your neck.

“I should really get this fixed” you mumbled trying fasten it around your neck once again, all while you kept your eyes on Amy, making sure nothing happened to her before you felt a presence next to you.

You turn your head, finding Lady Bridgerton next to you with a smile on her face “Your grace” she greets “ It is so nice to see you after all these years”

“Lady Bridgerton” you greet her with a smile “It is so nice to see you as well”

“How have you been? How is your family?”

You smile “ They are fine, thank you for ask-“

“Mama!” You turn your head and stand up quickly when you heard Amy cry out for you. Your daughter runs to you and hugged your legs tightly “What is wrong, darling?” you ask worriedly, before pulling her away, making her look at you

“Look” She shows you her arm which was scraped, tears filling her beautiful blue eyes “I hit a rock and now there is blood” She sniffled

“Oh, now now, do not cry” you coo caressing her cheek. You look up at Lady Bridgerton, who was staring at Amelia with wide eyes, her face turning pale. Dread fills your entire body.

“I- Is that- She looks- what- A-“ She stuttered

“Lady Bridgerton” you cut her off “If you may excuse me, I must find my parents, it was nice seeing you again” you give her one last smile and walked away, holding onto Amy’s hand

You groan as you ruffled throughout your bedchambers. You looked through your clothes, under your bed, on your dresser, anywhere you could think of but you still could not find it.

You exit your bedchambers and head down the stairs to the drawing room. “Mama” you called out entering the room “Have you seen my necklace? I cannot seem to find it anywhere”

Your mama looked up from her embroidery “Have you looked in your chambers?”

“I have” you looked at her worried “but it is not there” you grumble sitting down next to her “I need to find it mama, that is the last thing I have of Jacob, it is really special”

She raises an eyebrow “Well, I seem to think the last thing you have of Jacob is Amy, is she not?”

You stayed still “I – yes, of course, but I mean the last materialistic think left of him” I reply

She hums “Well, now that I remember, I recall Lady Bridgerton saying she has your necklace and you could go over today if you desire”

Your face lights up “Perfect! I will go then” you walk away before stopping and turning back to her “Will you look after Amy for me, please, I will not be long” you smile when she nods and walk out of the house

You open the front door slowly, looking around before walking further in. “Lady Bridgerton?” you called out and enter the drawing room

You huff when you don’t see her inside “She is not even here, why did she say to come here today then? And why didn’t she just send me my necklace with a maid” you roll your eyes before turning around, stopping when you come face to face with Anthony

“Looking for this?” He holds out your necklace, you look down at the necklace before looking back up at him

“Why do you have it? Give me it” you held out your hand, gesturing towards your necklace

He shrugs “If this was so important for you, why did you lose it? Mother found your necklace lying on the ground in the park,” he chuckled “How careless of you. And I, like the good son i am, told her that I would give it to you, how sweet of me, right?” He smirked

“Give it to me” you demand, glaring at him

“Tell me the truth first” He shakes his head

You furrowed your eyebrows “What are you talking about? Give me my necklace, now”

“Tell me you have not forgotten me” He mutters “That you still feel something for me”

You swallow, your eyes flickering between both of his eyes before looking down at your necklace and then back at him “Give me my necklace” you decide to ignore his words, evading his eyes so he does not see how much he is affecting you

“Y/n,” he sighs “I love you” he blurts out, you start to feel a light sting on your eyes.

“What are you even saying?” you needed to get out of there, you cannot stand to be there any longer “You are speaking nonsense!” You step around him to walk away but he stops you before you could make another step

“Come on, Y/n” He pleads holding onto your arms

“Let me go” you demand trying to jerk out of his hold

“If you tell me the truth, I will let you go” He said softly, you ignore his words once more, looking down at your necklace in his hands

“Give me back my necklace or dont, either way I will leave” you stated angrily

“Tell me the truth” Anthony repeated “Tell me you have not forgotten about what we had, tell me you have not forgotten me, tell me that you still love me”

You narrow your eyes at him, chuckling humorlessly “ I do not have to tell you anything”

“Do not do this, Y/n” he sighs exasperated

“Do what?” you glare at him

“Do not do this”

“What should I not do?!” you exclaimed

“I am in love with you, Y/n” Anthony admits looking at you softly

You snort before chuckling and looking around “Love?” you turn to look back at him, he nods in response “ After all these years, you speak to me about love?” You shake your head incredulously

“What did you think? After all these years, you will come to tell me that you are in love with me and I will jump straight on to your arms, right?” You throw your hands in the air in disbelief “In all that time I spent with you, I'm sure you did not know what place I occupy in your life! You treated me like an object, was I your mistress? Your lover? Did you even plan on courting me or did you only want me to be someone you could tumble around in the sheets with? Oh! wait a moment, you did say you were only looking for a easy lay. And now you speak to me about love!” You scoff

He looks down in shame “I had so many things going around, Y/n, I was confused. I did not know what to do and how to do it. And- and I did not want to drag you down with me” you look at him in disbelief “But I have always been in love with you”

You clench your jaw and scoffed “I do not even know why I am talking to you about this” you uttered and walked around him “Let me go” you exclaimed when he pulled you back towards your spot once again

You look at his chest, not wanting to see him in the face as your eyes stung with tears. Anthony looked down at you and nodded “Then tell me you have forgotten me, tell me you do not love me anymore ”

You opened your mouth and then closed it before opening it once more to speak this time “I forgot you” you looked at him in the eye “ Is that all? I forgot you! I do not love you anymore” you affirmed once more

You step away from his hold “What did you think?! That I would wait for you all these years?! That I would act as if I was just waiting for you to decide you wanted me again, to jump back into your arms?! That I would revolve everything around you?! Do you still think everything revolves around you?! –“

He pulls you into a kiss, cutting off your words. You tense, not expecting what he just did. He kisses you for a few more moments before pulling back. You remained emotionlessly, your lips tingling from the kiss you just shared a few seconds ago.

“I’m sorry” you snapped back out off your trance to look at him “I have crossed the line, I am sorry, if you want we can talk” he sighs ashamed at himself

”I may not know much about love, and that is mostly my fault for not letting myself love, but I know a lot about you” Anthony voiced “ I know you like to look at the rain, sometimes you even let the drops grace your hand. I also know you adore looking at the stars, those little lights that make your eyes shine in wonder. And you like to get lost in your thoughts, in that mind so disastrous but philosophical at the same time. You are a riddle that at first sight is complex but when you get to know it, you discover that it is a wonder of the world”

You ponder over his words, looking up at his face before looking back down, wringing your fingers before looking back up at him once again.

You smile sadly “ I cannot forgive you, Anthony, every sweet word you say cannot take away all of the pain you caused me, and I am sincerely sorry if you thought that this encounter would turn out another way, one in which everything is forgiven and you and I could be the perfect picture family but I am sorry to disappoint you. I cannot forgive you, and honestly," you sighed “ I do not want to”

With that, you turned away,

“Y/n…” he mumbled, you stop once again “ Love me again, please” you let out a shaky breath shaking your head and walking away and this time, he willingly lets you.

You wipe your tears away furiously entering your home once again “ Y/n?” your mama comes out of the drawing room, she looks at your tear stained cheeks before looking into your eyes worriedly “What happened?”

Your lips trembled before you hug her, letting the tears fall silently “Oh, what is wrong my dear?” you shook your head hugging her more tightly

After a few moments you pull away, wiping under your eyes carefully, all while your mama is still looking at you.

She sighed before sitting down next to you “I will give you some advice and I hope you listen to it” your mama uttered, her eyes flicking over to the drawing room before she spoke “Cry what you have to cry and suffer what you have to suffer. Because everything is ephemeral in this life, everything gives way at some point and pain is not the exception. And if you have to scream, then do so, if you have to break down, then break down. Do what you have to do to start again, to be able to heal, to be able to be happy and to be able to live”

“Why are you telling me this?” you wonder confused as she stood up, grabbing your hand before she led you out to the garden, where you saw your daughter running around happily

She chuckles softly “Dear, do you really think I did not know about your affair with the viscount?” you stare at her wide eyed, speechless “Do you think I had no idea that you snuck him in every night on your first season? Of course I did know, you are my only daughter and I would be damned if I let you be hurt by anything.”

You went to make up something but she cut you off “ And do not make some excuse that it was actually you who snuck out because you went for morning rides on your horse because it is not even believable” your mama rolls her eyes “ I care for you and your brother, and now little Amelia, more than anyone in this world, even more than your father. I love my children and grandchildren, that is the reason why I never said anything to you or to anyone. I saw how happy he made you, I thought you hid your courtship because you did not desire the society's attention on you both and that you would soon inform us that you were together, maybe even engaged”

“Mama…” you whisper looking down

“But then that light I saw in your eyes faded, you would spend your days locked in your bedchamber's , and imagine my surprise when you announced a month after, that you were getting married to Jacob Thornwell” your mama let out a shaky breath “You do not know how heartbroken I felt to see you like that. So low spirited, that the girl that used to be so happy, laughed so much and had so much love to give, was gone in a matter of a day”

“And I do not know what happened between the viscount and you but I trust you and your decisions. That is why I still supported you when you decided to marry the duke even when you were not in love with him. It was not a marriage of love but at least it was one of friendship, one in which you had a beautiful daughter” she remarked

You smiled lightly “She really is beautiful” you looked at Amelia who went to sit on the swing, looking at a butterfly that was flying by

Your mama hummed “She really did get the best of you and the viscount’s features” once again, you were left speechless, your smile fading as she laughed once she saw your expression “Oh please, I did not for one second believe that you gave birth 2 months early because of some complications you supposedly had, and Amy looks a lot like the viscount, Lady Bridgerton can surely attest to that” she then walked away after dropping that bomb on you.

“Your grace”

You looked to your side “Oh, it is you again” you pursue your lips “You surely do not understand that I do not want you near me, do you?”

“Oh come on, do not be like that” you roll your eyes at his words

“ I am not being like anything” You grumble “ I am simply annoyed that you cannot seem to take a hint and leave me alone”

“Of course I can take a hint” Anthony huffs “I just simply choose not to accede to your desires” You scoff

“Such a nice person you are” you grumble looking away

“I never said I was nice" he tilted his head to look at you better

“I can see that” you said

“Mama!” Amy slammed on to your legs “Grandmamma said i can eat some of the sweets on the table if you allow me” You look down at your daughter “Can I please eat some?” Amy gave you a pout making you laugh

“Of course” you laugh before you turned at your side when you remembered who was next too you. Anthony was looking at Amy wide eyed

“She is – is she your daughter?” He asked you, you nodded, your heart starting to pound faster.

He knelt down to her height and extended a hand, smiling at her slightly “Hello” he greeted her when she turned to him “ I am Viscount Bridgerton but you can call me Anthony”

Amy smiled happily, shaking his hand “I am Amelia but my family calls me Amy” Anthony looked at you for a moment before turning back to Amy

“How old are you, Amy?”

“Amelia, sweetheart,” you cut in “Why do you not go back to grandmamma and eat those sweets you were telling me about?”

“How old are you, Amy?” Anthony asked again

“Amy-“

“5” Amy answered him happily, showing him five fingers. Anthony snapped his eyes towards you quickly when she answered

“Amy” you stressed out, Amy looked at you then “Will you please go to grandmamma now?”

She shrugged and skipped happily towards your mama who was already looking at you three, your mama gave you a look when her eyes met yours flickering her eyes to Anthony and back to you before smiling at Amy who was now next to her.

You sighed looking at Anthony, who was now turning pale “She – why did you – Y/n, I do not understand – is she my daugh –“you cut him off, grabbing his hand and pulling him to an empty room after making sure no one saw you.

“Do not say those things where anyone can hear you, Lord Bridgerton” you snapped

He chuckled humorlessly, his eyebrows furrowing as he clenched his jaw“She is my daughter” He stated

“ No, she is not” you denied “She is Jacob’s daughter” he narrowed his eyes at you

“Do not try to lie to me because I do not believe you”

“Well you must because that is the truth” you rolled your eyes at him

“She is five” he snapped angrily “She has my mother’s eyes, Daphne’s eyes." He looked around before leaning in closer “And you and I both know Jacob liked everything but women.” Anthony stepped back, clearing his throat “You can try to deny it all you want but the proof was right there in front of me” You stayed quiet “Why did you not tell me? Did you not think I deserved to know my daughter?”

“She is not your daughter!” You exclaim “ She is mine and she is Jacob’s, not yours” Anthony looked at you hurt

You both stared at each other silently, your chests rising quickly, heavy breaths escaping both of your lips. Anthony sighed walking closer to you, you swallowed, taking one step back with every step he took towards you.

“Why did you marry Jacob Thornwell?” He asked “Did you love him?”

You shook your head, deciding to answer with the truth “It was not love. I did not marry him for love, but for friendship” he looked at you confused

“You told me you would not marry unless it was for love-“

“Yes, well, things change do they not?” you muttered, he went silent.

“I am sorry,” He admitted quietly after a few minutes “I know whatever I say is not enough, and it will also not take away any of the pain I caused you, but I am truly sorry, please believe me, Y/n” he held onto your hands, you look down at your intertwined hands

He raised your chin with his hand, making you look back up at him. “I cannot defend myself because there is no excuse that can fix what I did to you, I, myself, do not know why I did that” he swallowed “ The only thing I can say is that i loved you then, and I love you now, and if you allow me, I can continue to love you for the rest of my life ”

“There is no one else I would rather have next to me, no one else I would rather love for eternity than the one person I have really loved my entire life. No one else than the mother of my beautiful daughter.” He caressed your cheeks “Say yes, Y/n. Let us have that life that I so stupidly threw away. Let me prove that I can truly make you happy. Let me love you”

You stayed silent before speaking up “I moved on with my life, pretending that nothing had happened between us.” You admitted quietly “But there were times when you crossed my mind, especially when I looked at Amelia” you then added “you caused my heart to explode by the simple memory of something that was. It is strange, to know that even with everything that happened, that love I held for you, the same one I still have for you, never faded” his face started to light up with his words. A small smile appearing in his face.

“Does that mean you will…..”

“I do not know if I will regret this, but I have not stopped loving you. I- Anthony- I promise you, do not make me regret this or else I will really murder you” You grumble

Anthony laughs happily before pulling you into a kiss, his lips moved against yours softly, testing the waters, as if to make sure you won’t pull away before he started to kiss you more passionately. His hands pulling you close by your waist as you wrapped your hands around his neck, kissing him back just as passionately.

“I won’t” he mumbled onto your lips “If so I give you permission to murder me willingly”

You hummed before pulling away“Just let me love you before that happens” you smile.

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #violet bridgerton #daphne basset #daphne bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #colin bridgerton #lady danbury #lady whistledown

[kennarose1108]

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader !CHILDHOOD ENIMES! !PART 2!

ANTHONY'S POV

Anthony's life had never been easy. His father's death and the pressure of being the man of the house so young were hard on him. But one thing was always easy...

Getting under her skin.

He loved teasing her, he loved the way she pouted, hell... He loved her.

But he knew it would never last. She hated him and she was his sister's best friend. So he buried his feelings for her and moved on with his life. The last two years it was easy since she wasn't around... He even got a fiancé... But the second he saw her... Everything came flooding back.

He was at Lady Danbury's ball when she entered. The crowd went silent and his gaze fell on what they were looking at... Her.

All the men wanted her, all the women wanted to be her.

She looked absolutely and utterly stunning. Breathtaking... Beautiful... He couldn't even name every word of how she looked in that stunning blue dress.

But then he saw the look of panic on her face and the way her body trembled... Clearly being in the spotlight was getting to her.

He was just about to go to her to save her from the torture she was going through when Lady Danbury did it before him.

His eyes never left her... While she talked and laughed with Lady Danbury... God... That smile... He wanted her, he needed her... But something snapped him back into reality. Well, more like someone.

"Anthony," Kate spoke with a smile. "Is everything alright?" She asks while wrapping her hands around his arm. He was flustered and startled at first at her sudden presence but he quickly regained composure.

"I'm fine." He murmured with a small smile. He and Kate spoke for awhile and he did his best to keep his gaze on the woman before him and not the woman across the room. But the feeling of someone staring at him caught his attention and he looked away from Kate and his eyes met yours. He felt his heart skip a beat as you two made eye contact. But quickly your gaze fell and you looked away.

But Anthony couldn't lose this chance. He looked at Kate, excused himself and explained why (not the whole truth), and walked over to her and Daphne.

He smiled widely and threw open his arms, "Sweetheart!" He called out. He chuckled softly as he saw her hiding behind his sister, Daphne. He pulls her from behind Daphne and hugs her tightly. He took in her scent, she smelled like roses...

Damn... Now every time he smelled or saw roses he was going to think of her.

She didn't hug him back, as expected, and he could hear his sister snorting behind him. Anthony pulled away and pinched her cheek like he always did, "Nice to see you again sweetheart. You look stunning. Did your mother doll you up?" He asks and she smacked his hand away.

She glared at him, "Aww. Don't pretend you didn't miss me, sweetie." He says while nudging her slightly. "Goodbye Anthony." She says before turning away. God... His name sounded so good in her mouth...

He wondered what else would be good in her mouth...

But she stopped. Her mother was coming with a creepy old man that he could tell her mother wanted to marry her off to... Yeah, there's no way he was going to let that happen.

He inched closer to her, maybe even too close for her comfort, before whispering in her ear, "Y'know... I can save you... You'll just have to accept my offer for a dance."

He heard her sigh and she turned around to him with a glare on her face, "I'm doing this to get away. Don't think you're saving me." She says while pointing at him. He chuckles, "Of course not sweetheart."

"And stop calling me that!" She says angrily and he lets out a small laugh as she takes his hand. Her hand felt so good in his, even though he couldn't feel her skin, her hand still being in his felt really good.

He pulled her along to the dance floor before shifting her off into a dance. They danced smoothly and effortlessly. It was silent for the first minute and she avoided his gaze.

"Your mother trying to sell you to that old man?" Anthony asks and she finally looks at him. "Sadly yes. But I'm not interested. I'm not interested in anyone really." She says, managing a shrug through their dancing. Before he could question her further on that she spoke again, "But I see you are. Engaged huh? I never thought I'd see the day." She says with a chuckle.

"And why's that? Thought I'd always be a bachelor for the rest of my life?" He teases, and she rolls her eyes. "No, I just never thought there would be a woman on this planet who could tolerate you long enough." He laughs a genuine laugh.

"Speaking of which, would your bride-to-be, be upset you're dancing with another woman?" She asks with a smirk, he chuckles. "No... She knows I'm hers."

That was a lie. He thought. Well, maybe not the part of Kate thinking he was hers... But in truth, his heart did not belong to Kate... It belongs to Y/N. For years, it was always hers.

"Good. I don't feel like getting into a fight tonight... Although it would make this boring evening even better." She says and the dance ends. They both stop and stare at one another, the tension palpable between the two. He saw her neck shift as she swallowed the lump in her throat before she gave him a curtsy and he gave her a bow...

"Thank you Mr Bridgerton..." She murmured while pulling herself back up and adjusting her dress. "But I can't avoid my mother any longer." She says softly and before he could say a word she brushes past him and towards her mother.

Oh... She felt it. That strange feeling. The one that he felt so many years ago that blossomed into love...

But it could never happen. Not in a million years. He knew that.

But why does his heart still yearn for her?

PART 3

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 spoilers #colin bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton spoilers #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x reader #reader x anthony bridgerton #y/n x anthony bridgerton #anthony x kate #kate bridgerton #kate x anthony #kanthony #edwina sharma #daphne bridgerton #lady danbury #fanfic #fanfiction

[ladysharmaa]

Why don't you love me?

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Y/n and Anthony are in an arranged marriage. When she stops trying to make the relationship work and be the perfect wife, Anthony realizes what he's lost. Will he be able to get her back?

(gift is not mine)

It wasn't the marriage she wanted. And it wasn't what he wanted, because, in fact, he didn't even want to be married. And he didn't mind showing it. But for Y/n, she tried to make the best of their unfortunate situation.

It all started at the beginning of the season when Violet Bridgerton decided that her firstborn had been single for too long. So, she spoke to Y/n's parents, who were good friends of hers, and they both decided that a marriage between the two would be beneficial to both families. Anthony was going to have the support of someone who would take Violet's place as Viscountess and Lady Bridgerton. For Y/n's life, in this society, having a husband was essential and this marriage would allow social advancement.

Thus, Anthony and Y/n agreed with this decision. The preparation for the wedding was carried out quickly and this event was the biggest news for days. Lady Whistledown didn't help matters either by immediately releasing an advert showing her doubts about Anthony having a wife.

This only worsened Y/n's mood, who already feared being married to Viscount Bridgerton, as she was now doubting all the lovers Anthony could take to their bed. Would he not respect their marriage? Did she just want an heir and take care of the children? With these doubts, she said the "I do" in front of hundreds of people watching the ceremony, and allowed just one tear to fall.

From the beginning, Anthony made a point of making it clear that their marriage was purely a compromise, and that he would never truly love her. He was going to fulfill his role and try to have an heir and outside the house, they would act like a happy couple, but it wouldn't go beyond that. In silence, Y/n just offered him a nod, showing that she understood.

However, since then, nothing has happened between them. Anthony allowed her to have her own room, something Y/n was more than grateful for. Having to look at the face of her husband who would never love her every time she fell asleep would be too painful.

She was expecting that on some nights he would enter her room to try to get her with child. But none of that happened, which only confused Y/n more. Was he so disgusted by the idea of being married to her that he didn't even want to have pleasure with her?

So she tried to distract herself with tasks that could take some of the work off Anthony's shoulders and try to be the perfect wife. But Anthony still refused to spend more than five minutes alone with her. At breakfast, he was already at the office when Y/n woke up to go eat, at night he preferred to spend time with his brothers instead of returning home. He was making everyone's life difficult and Y/n was starting to get more and more sad. Would this be her routine until the end of her life? Trying to please a husband who didn't want her?

It was on a summer afternoon that Y/n, upon returning from a social gathering with Anthony's mother and sister, realized how hot the mansion was. She quickly remembered how Viscount's office, the few times she had been there, was directly in the sun which made it even hotter. So she decided to be brave and try to have at least a friendly relationship with her husband, so she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

With growing nerves, Y/n went to Anthony's office door and knocked on the wood. After hearing Anthony's voice, she opened the door, finding him plus Benedict, who had become good friends with Y/n.

"Oh, I apologize if I am interrupting." she said shyly, keeping to the doorway.

"You are." Anthony immediately agreed in a deep voice, not paying attention to her and turning his attention back to the papers.

At the same time, his brother hurried to assure Y/n, "You're not interrupting anything. You even saved me from Anthony's boring lecture here."

The woman smiled uncomfortably. "Right. I just came to bring you a cup of water. It's so warm outside. I wasn't aware you were here, Mr. Bridgerton, but I can go and also bring you some water."

"Thank you, Y/n, I would—"

However, he couldn't finish his sentence as Anthony hit the table, causing his wife to jump in fright and immediately take a step back. Her reaction made Anthony's expression show some regret, but he quickly hid it. A silence fell between the three.

"I'm fed up, Y/n! Can't you understand that men are trying to work?! Go back to your life of looking at flowers and walking around without having to do anything and leave!"

Y/n's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to understand what had just happened. Finally, she pursed her lips and her eyes turned cold. "I apologize, Lord Bridgerton. It won't happen again. If you'll excuse me."

When she left the room, Benedict looked at his brother in shock. "That was so harsh. The poor girl was trying to be nice and cared enough to bring you a glass of water. If you don't want it, I'll have it. I'm talking about the glass and her."

"Don't you dare." he muttered with a clenched jaw, glaring furiously at Benedict. Where did this anger come from just thinking about Y/n with another man? "Now, let's go back to discuss how you spent money on a bet."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Y/n's behavior with Anthony changed completely. Everyone noticed that the Viscountess finally reached her limit, and stopped being the friendly wife, now looking coldly at her husband whenever they passed each other in the mansion. However, as a couple and heads of the family, they still had obligations to fulfill together.

Public appearances were more tense, but they still managed to keep a smile on their faces and talk to all the ladies who asked about their marriage and when they would have children, giving short answers so that nothing would end up in Lady Whistledown's hands. They also attended a horse race, even betting on different horses that would win. Y/n ended up winning the bet, and her smug look irritated Anthony for the rest of the day, something his brothers were quick to tease him about.

But despite not liking Anthony after his cruel words, which Y/n still thought about constantly, she adored his sisters and mother. They had accepted Y/n into the family, including her in their gatherings and even being a should to cry on. Daphne had already said more than once that she would have no problem going to Anthony and try to talk some sense into him, but Y/n refused. Anthony already didn't like her, if he thought she was turning his family against him he would hate her even more. And she didn't need to make her life worse than it already was.

One day, when she went with Anthony to the Bridgerton mansion to drop off some documents, Hyacinth, Anthony's younger sister, took her aside. Y/n followed the girl to the bathroom where she, with teary eyes and trembling lips, asked her if she was going to die when she started bleeding from her lady parts. Hyacinth also revealed to her that she wanted to go to her mother, but she had gone shopping with Francesca and was alone at home with just Collin. Y/n, very calmly and gently, assured her that it was a normal thing and that all women went through this, explaining what she should do.

It was no secret that Y/n was happy that Hyacinth trusted her with this scary situation and that she was able to help the girl. Despite all the problems in her marriage, she now had a role in helping Anthony's sisters and she never wanted to fail in that.

To Y/n's surprise, Hyacinth ended up giving her a big hug, remaining attached to her for the rest of the afternoon. Her period was making her so affectionate, more than she already was, that Y/n couldn't stop a big smile from appearing on her face at receiving so much affection.

Anthony, when he finally finished talking to Collin about the documents he brought, I was surprised to see his sister on the couch hugging Y/n. "Hyacinth, what are you doing?"

"Hugging my sister-in-law, brother. But you don't know what that is, do you?" she snapped. The girl's change in mood made Y/n have to put a hand over her mouth to keep Anthony from hearing the laughter that escaped her.

The shock on Anthony's face was comical. His little sister was basically choosing Y/n over him. And in truth, he didn't judge her because his wife was, without a doubt, better than him. And she deserved so much better.

On the other hand, his heart warmed when he saw the bond that the two had created. It was clear that Y/n felt great affection for his family. Could it be that if he had accepted this marriage from the beginning, they would now be a happy family? That they would spend afternoons together, cuddling on the couch and talking to his siblings? All these thoughts were racing through his mind, and the guilt was growing so much that he felt like he was going to vomit.

"Lord Bridgerton?" that sweet voice he had come to adore brought him out of his thoughts. He hated that since he snapped at her, she never called him by his first name again.

"What?" he asked, still disoriented.

Y/n was looking at him like he was stupid. "I asked if you were ready to leave. Hyacinth already went to her room to rest. I would like to do the same. So you must make haste."

Her bossy tone almost made his lips curl into a smile, but he controlled himself in time. "Of course, wife. We shall leave now. But I have to ask, what happened between you and my sister?"

"All you need to know is that she's fine and she's a woman now. But don't worry, as your wife, I'll handle these situations. Unless you prefer me to go look at the flowers, take a walk, and do nothing?"

The hint, which was delivered with great anger, caused the man to blush in shame and lower his head. Y/n didn't wait for his answer, taking her coat from a maid and walking to the carriage. He had screwed everything up.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A few more days had passed and the situation between Y/n and Anthony had only gotten stranger. The day after the situation with Hyacinth, Y/n was coming down from her room to go get breakfast, as she always did, when she came across Anthony at the table, appearing to be waiting for her to eat.

Y/n stopped abruptly, looking at him in shock. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for you so we can have breakfast. I have to go see my brothers again today to talk business, so I was thinking you could come with me and spend some time with my sisters. My mother She's also been saying how she hasn't seen you in a while. That is, only if you want to go. If not, I'll just go… Or I'll stay here to keep you company, whatever you want." he choked up, finishing his speech by drinking some milk, perhaps to calm his nerves.

Y/n remained in place without moving. She looked at Anthony strangely, as if doubting that those words had even come out of his mouth.

"It was silly of me to ask—"

"No," she interrupted him. "It's fine. I would actually like to go and spend time with your sisters. They are lovely. I shall go get ready then."

"Aren't you going to have breakfast with me first?"

"Lord Bridgerton, I've been eating breakfast alone since we got married and I came to live with you. I think you can handle doing the same for a day. Excuse me." she said with an exaggerated smile, turning her back on him and starting to go back to her room. However, she turned back to go get a cake that was on the table. "But I'm hungry so I will eat this in my chambers."

"Call me Anthony!" he exclaimed before she was completely gone. He had a desperate look, almost looking like he needed to hear his name come out of her lips.

"No."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Like every year, the Queen decided to throw a ball to celebrate the Diamond of the Season. The most eligible maiden on the marriage market. Y/n still remembers the first ball she attended — Daphne was the diamond of the season, but Y/n also managed to dance with a few suitors. Of course, in the end, she didn't end up marrying any of them. However, the nerves she felt at that ball were equal to or less than what she felt today: her first ball married to Anthony.

The Viscount and Viscountess had entered together, her hand resting on his arm, followed by Violet and the rest of his siblings. Tonight they would have to be on the lookout for suitors who might want to dance with Francesca, the diamond of the season.

Anthony quietly appreciated his wife. She looked breathtaking in her dress, her hair neatly tied back that showed off her majestic earrings, given by Anthony on their wedding day. He was proud to have a wife like Y/n, and he regreted that he hadn't shown it since day one.

While the Bridgertons started to go their own way, interacting with other people and dancing, Y/n preferred to stay in the corner watching the couples dancing. She longed to experience that with Anthony, but not in a forced way like some were. No, she wanted it to be felt, for them to dance to the music and really appreciate that moment.

But instead of her husband approaching her, it was another man, Earl Cavendish. Y/n remembered some moments when she had already seen him, as he was looking to get married this season. As she approached her, with a confident air, Y/n lowered her head to compliment him, "Good afternoon, Earl Cavendish."

"Lady Bridgerton, a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you look flawless. Would you give me the pleasure of dancing with me?" he extended his hand.

Y/n's eyes widened, not knowing what to do. People had already started looking at them, whispering among themselves. However, she didn't have to respond to the invitation as she felt an arm wrap around her waist and bring her closer to him.

"Excuse me, Earl Cavendish, but I want to have the pleasure of dancing with my beautiful wife first." Anthony said with his jaw clenched, looking him up and down menacingly. "I'm sure you will be able to find other ladies to dance with tonight. Just not my wife."

The two men looked at each other for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to back down. Anthony grew more and more furious, her wrists clenching and bringing Y/n even closer to him, but careful not to hurt her.

"Very well. I shall leave. I hope to see you again someday, Lady Bridgerton."

"I will —" Anthony began by exclaiming in anger as the Earl walked towards another woman, not having liked the way he looked at what was his.

"You will do nothing." the Viscountess snapped coldly. "I can't understand you, you ignore me, you treat me badly, and then you act protective when another man shows interest in me? I never said anything about you having lovers, even though I didn't like that in our marriage."

"What? I've never disrespected our marriage like that, Y/n. In the past I've done a lot of things, but since we got married the only woman I'll look at and touch is you. I don't want anyone else."

"You have a funny way of showing it." she laughed sarcastically, feeling increasingly emotional. "I have to go get some air. You should go check on Francesca again."

Feeling the cold night air, Y/n's heart began to calm down. It was so difficult having to deal with Anthony's changes of attitude, she couldn't understand him. She just wanted to be loved, and since that wasn't possible, she preferred that they stay as far away from each other as possible since being friends didn't seem to be an option either.

"I'm sorry." the voice she had come to know so well whispered behind her. Y/n refused to turn around, leaning against the balcony and taking deep breaths to control her emotions. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I know that marrying me shouldn't have been your choice either, but I was scared. I was scared to have a wife, because that meant I had another person in my life that I could lose ."

She finally had the courage to turn around and look into Anthony's brown eyes. They held back tears and showed the sadness, regret and anger that Anthony felt.

"I'm so angry with myself for the way I treated you. You deserve so much better than this. And I'm sorry I couldn't give you that. The cruel words I said to you but didn't mean. I was scared to let you in. in my heart, so I tried to push you away. Believe that all I want is to have you in my arms. To love you. To start a family with you. Please, I promise I will do better. And every day I will try to reward you for what you do.

"Lord Bridgerton—"

"Please, call me Anthony. It pains me when you call me like that. Reminds me that I was… Am so close to losing the best thing of my life. I will kneel before you and beg for forgiveness if that's what you want." he murmured with a hand over his heart, beginning to kneel on the ground without hesitation.

"There is no need for that… Anthony." she enjoyed seeing the relief and happiness that spread across his face upon hearing his first name. "I just don't understand why you didn't love me? And now you want to try to make our marriage work?"

"That's the thing, I have always loved you. I love you. My whole body, my heart, feels love for you. That has never changed." he revealed desperately. "I was a coward and didn't know how to deal with my feelings. Because they are so strong that my heart feels like it's going to come out of my chest. Please, give me another chance."

"Hmm, I don't now." The look of disappointment was so marked on Anthony's face, almost looking like he was ready to burst into tears, that Y/n stopped his suffering and showed him an amused smile, making him understand that she was joking. "I think I want you to suffer a little more to get my forgiveness."

"I will do anything for you, Y/n. Ask me the world and I will give it to you."

"Such a romantic now, aren't you?" she whispered, admiring his features.

She didn't realize their faces were so close until she felt his nose trace the delicate skin of her cheek. A gasp escaped her mouth, and Anthony took the opportunity to connect their lips in an unforgettable kiss.

Anthony pulled away quicker than he wanted, but he needed to make sure this was really what his wife wanted. "I love you."

"Kiss me again, and maybe I will also tell you that."

And what his wife wanted, he did. The two remained on the balcony, enjoying the comfort the other gave them. They still had a long way to go, but they knew that from that moment on, their lives would change drastically for the better. They had each other.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #collin bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n

[fayes-fics]

Awakening

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: You experience an awakening a few days into your arranged marriage with the Viscount.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, female masturbation, slightly dom/sub (use of little one/my lord), innocence, corruption kink, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m to f).

Word Count: 3.4k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Request fill for Anon, HERE, about Anthony being arranged married to an innocent reader. Sorry it's taken me so long to write this, Nonny, but I hope you still enjoy it, even though I changed the parameters of the request slightly. Enjoy <3

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton is most perplexing. 

He is all at once both the best and the worst person you know. A providing husband, but an absent one. A polite, undisputable gentleman, but one who has barely said more than a handful of words to you, his supposed wife. An arrangement was brokered with your father, and now, merely weeks later, you are walking the halls of Aubrey Hall as the new Viscountess Bridgerton but barely feel as if you know your husband.

The night before your wedding, you had received a very vague talk from your mother about how you should expect your new husband to enter your bedchamber and perform his “spousal rights” and that, as his wife, you must allow whatever he decides to do. You still have no earthly idea what that might mean; your room has never once yet seen his presence—on that night or, indeed, any of the four nights since. Part of you worries you have somehow failed to be the wife he needs; part of you is relieved he has not done anything to you that you must endure in some way.  

There is one thing you are certain of, though. While Anthony may be distant, almost an absence from your life, always busy with some business or other, there is no doubt you find his countenance pleasing. He is so very dashing and handsome. Earlier today, he swept in from a hunt wearing very tight tan breeches, and the sight caused a funny, warm tingling low in your gut. Between your legs, really.  He nodded politely as he swept past you in the hallway, continuing his discussion with his brother as he did so. You twist to watch his retreating figure, wishing you could have the opportunity to speak with him, but the view of his shapely bottom in those tight trousers is at least partial compensation. 

So as you lay under the covers on your fifth night alone, your ladies' maids having brushed your hair and taken their leave, you sigh deeply and snuggle into the crispy white sheets. Your thoughts turn to your husband again and that outfit he was wearing. The way those trousers clung to him, the movement of muscle as he strode purposefully. And that sensation rears again—the pulsing between your legs. It seems like your body needs something, but you do not know what. Flushed for some reason, you push away the covers. Before you know it, curiosity has the better of you. While you replay the image of him walking in your mind, your legs fall apart, your hand reflexively falling between them to provide a remedy—almost like an itch you need to scratch.

Your fingers slide through folds of flesh there, and strangely, there is unfamiliar sticky dampness. When you pass your fingers over a particular spot where your two lips meet, you get a pleasurable spike that makes your mouth slack.

Oh.

Almost without meaning to, you keep touching that spot, a call and response that is impossible to resist. The more you rub right there, your body swelling slightly under your movements, the better you feel. A languid buzz in your brain that feels both stimulating and relaxing. When your husband's image pops into your head again, everything suddenly gets sharper and more urgent. And so you do. You think of him. His handsome face, the way his forearms flex when you sit across from him at dinner, and he eats with his sleeves rolled up and again those legs and bottom in those tight trousers. Tumbling images that speed up in your mind as your fingers do the same, powerless to resist. 

You are soon gasping and writhing, yet you do not stop; it feels too good. Something almost violent happens in your body, your lungs restricting, your brain buzzing, and suddenly, with a crest of physical delight, you are experiencing something completely novel. There is a squeezing, rippling inside, and you cry out as a remarkable ecstasy takes your body. When eventually the feeling subsides, you collapse back down, panting and bewildered; your whole body flushed, your fingers, still resting between your legs, wettened with a slick substance that could only have come from within you. 

Whatever just happened, it's nothing you have been told about before. Not fully understanding, all you know is you want to experience it again. It's addictive, powerful, and so very relaxing once over. You instantly fall into a deep, sated slumber and wake up the most refreshed you have felt in many months.

And so it becomes a habit. 

Whenever you feel the need and have a private moment, you retire to your room and touch your body until you feel that pinnacle—often thinking upon the Viscount as you do so. His name even falls from your lips, breathy, almost a tasty morsel, as you find your peak. It is no longer something you only do when you retire to bed for the night. You find yourself doing so any time of day, whenever the mood strikes you, an addictive, fun, illicit thrill. You wonder idly if such a thing is taboo, but you struggle to believe something that feels so good could ever be unacceptable behaviour as long as you are in private, alone.

One week after your wedding, on an uneventful afternoon, you put down your needlework and huff a sigh, your eyes drawn by movement outside. There, riding towards the house at speed across the lawn is Anthony. It's a sunny summer day; he wears only a shirt billowing in the breeze with sleeves pushed up around his elbows. And again, those tan breeches flexing around his legs as the horse gallops, him moving with the beast in a rhythmic motion. Time seems to stand still as you are inexorably drawn to the window to watch the sight coming closer and closer. The whole time your breath becomes more rapid, that telltale throbbing between your legs flares. You decide there is only one course of action.

When he veers off to the left towards the stables to the side of the house, you turn heel and run up the stairs. Keen to have that incredible high. This new, enthralling image will be the star of your thoughts this time. You pass his valet on the stairs and politely nod before scurrying and closing your bedroom door behind you.

You drop your underwear onto the floor, hitching up your dress and chemise around your hips as you throw yourself onto your bed, not even bothering to pull back the bedspread, so very keen to touch yourself.

It doesn't take much, that familiar slick already there, painting your fingers as you slide them against your nub, one hand reaching behind to grasp the headboard as you writhe on your fingers, all thoughts of Anthony and that repetitive bouncing motion of him upon his steed. So wrapped up in pleasure, his name on your lips, you do not hear the knob turning and the door opening.

“My valet told me you were here….” his loud baritone voice rings out around the room but grinds to a halt mid-sentence.

You squeal in surprise; the star of your fantasies standing right before you, skin sunkissed and his hair tousled from his ride, a look of utter shock painting his face.

Instinctively, you clamp your knees together and attempt to push down your dress, but it’s too little, too late. He has seen exactly what you were doing, and now he looks distressed, hIs breathing uneven.

“Did you…. Did you say my name?” The tone is not one you have heard from him before, rough but straining.

You sit up slightly and avert your gaze downwards, abashed he has interrupted your private moment.

“Yes,” you confess quietly.

He takes a hesitant step forward towards the bed and swallows heavily.

“You were touching yourself? And... and saying my name?” he looks almost winded.

“Yes,” again, it's soft, and you chew your lower lip, thinking perhaps you are about to be chastised. He certainly looks very… agitated.

“Do you know what you are doing to yourself?” he blurts out, a vein in his forehead prominent as he locks his jaw.

“Not really,” you admit, “only that when I think of you, I get an ache between my legs, and it feels wonderful when I touch it.”

He makes a strangled noise and closes his eyes, his head tipping back slightly.

“I… I did not expect to consummate yet,” he mutters heavily, “I thought I had more time.” He seems to be talking to himself as much as you.

“What does that mean? Consummate?” you inquire, your mother's words coming to the forefront. Perhaps this is what she was referring to.

“As your husband, I have perhaps been neglectful of my spousal duties,” he says slowly, his head tipping back down to look at you, his eyes intense.

“Duties?” you frown.

“What you were doing to yourself…” he begins, moving closer now so he stands by the bed, “it is because you desire me. I had not considered that may be the case.” He twists his mouth into a thoughtful pout, but you do not miss how he seems to stare at your breasts as they rise and fall inside your stays. “But now that I know it is true… it… changes things.”

“How?” you look up at him, wanting to understand.

A smirk tugs at the left corner of his mouth. “It means there are things I can teach you, things you should know that can happen between a man and a woman. Things you will find pleasurable, just like when you touch yourself. It is my responsibility, as your husband, to show you such things now.” His hand reaches out, and you inhale sharply as it lands upon your raised knee.

“You make it sound more like an obligation than something you want to do,” you respond, voice wavering at the distraction his hand is causing, the viscous throbbing between your legs even heavier now.

“Oh, nothing could be further from the truth; I want to, now that I know you desire it too.” His voice is a soft thrum that makes your nipples peak and a shiver run down your spine.

“Why have you not come to me before, husband?” it sounds breathy even to your ears.

“I thought you disliked me. That this was an arrangement you were enduring. That I should be polite and respectful. Keep my distance, at the least, until you adjust to your new life as Viscountess. Until an heir is needed. But now I know that is not the case…��� 

His voice is a pleasant low rumble as his hand starts to move, slightly calloused fingertips skirting the soft skin of your inner thigh, your dress and chemise bunching around his toned forearm as he does so.

“What are you…?” your breath quickening now.

“Shhhh, Viscountess, let me help you,” he hushes, and you stare at him with wide eyes as his warm fingers reach your folds. He hisses at the heat and wetness he finds there. “Oh, you really do like me,” he purrs, and something in you makes you lean slowly back onto the padded plush headboard, unable to look away from his face.

“Yes…” you whimper as his thumb, much broader than yours, makes a sideways swipe over your swollen nub.

“How often?” he murmurs, shifting to take a seat on the bed next to you, his thumb never wavering in its slow, intoxicating rhythm,

“How often wh-what?” You stutter, rapidly losing the ability to form words as your body riots, grasping the bedspread on either side of you, scarcely believing how amazing it feels when someone else touches you, especially him.

“How often do you touch yourself and think of me?” his voice gravelly.

“Everyday… so-sometimes m-more than once,” you pant out, your lips tingling, holding his fiery gaze.

“Oh, you naughty little thing,” he growls, and it sets your face aflame. “Touching yourself multiple times a day and thinking of me. Do you reach a peak every time?”

“Y-yes, my lord….”

His eyes flash; he leans in closer so you can smell spiced cologne and traces of his natural body scent, heightened from his riding exertions.

“Please call me that when I'm touching you,” he asks, but it almost sounds like an order, one you are happy to obey.

“Yes, my lord,” you respond instantly.

“Good little one,” he compliments, and the praise makes something bloom inside you, an urgent want to please him.

He changes his thumb’s motion to a circular pattern and presses more insistently. You gasp loud, glancing down at the slight of his toned arm flexing as he moves, his fingers obscured by your dress rucked up around his wrist.

“Tell me, have you put your fingers inside yourself?” his tone still velvety.

“No? What do you mean? I just,” you pause to whimper, “do as you are right now.”

His face turns into a handsome smirk you can't look away from.

“Would you like to find out how it feels to have someone inside your body, little one?” The question is molten, and you swear your entire skin feels too heated and tight.

You just nod, snagging your lower lip with your tooth, and then your eyes bulge as a finger slips lower and presses into a fleshy barrier that resists his touch.

“I can feel you are still intact, a chaste maiden indeed,” he rumbles, and part of you wonders what that means, but you do not ask. “Luckily, there is just enough of an opening for me to do this…” 

You moan as a single finger pushes a fraction into your body, something completely novel and profound. You stare at him open-mouthed

“Oh, my dear little thing, I have barely even put the tip of my finger inside and look at you. Wait until it's my cock,” he warns darkly.

“Your what?” 

He grabs your hand off the bedding and guides it to the junction of his thighs. Something is hot and hard under there, and you cannot hide your shock even as your hand curls around it and squeezes instinctually.

He growls. “That’s it, feel it. My cock is going to go inside you, right here….” he lectures, and his finger that was teasing pushes deeper into your pussy, aided by the pool of wetness leaking from within.

Again you moan at the invasion, and he looks so proud, pumping the digit slowly as his thumb restarts its movements on your clit.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim in a harsh whisper, the feeling so utterly mindblowing.

“No, your lord,” he corrects, preening from what he can do to your body.

“My l-lord….” you amend stutteringly.

He nods his approval and leans over you, his breath warm on your face as he observes your expressions, gauging your response to each move he makes. It's so overwhelming that he is touching you inside and outside your body.

You are rapidly losing the ability to do anything besides make noises and chase sensation; your knees falling further apart, your hand still on his cock, pressing unconsciously with the same rhythm his fingers play your body. He glances down at his lap, his other hand moving from its grip on your wrist to cover yours, his hips tilting a fraction, pressing more insistently into your palm. 

“Would you like to come right now?” his breath almost as ragged as yours.

“W-what is that?” you stumble.

He huffs a bemused sound. “When you reach your peak, little one. It is called coming.”

“Yes, please, my lord,” you answer the instant you understand, spiralling fast now, your lungs heaving, your slit hot and slippery, where he teases you.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, and you obey instantly. 

He gently removes your hand from his cock, and his fingers slip out of your body. You sense movement on the bed, and he manhandles your feet outwards and upwards towards your hips. Cotton brushing the back of your thighs, and a wave of warm air across your inner thighs, so open and exposed now. A few seconds later, you feel something entirely new— a wet, hot, thick mass sliding through your folds unlike anything else. Your eyes fly open, and you startle to see that Anthony has crawled between your legs and his head is now buried at the apex of your thighs. Then you cry out as he does the same thing again, realising he is using his tongue.

“What the….?” you can't even complete the sentence.

“It is not just my fingers I can use, little one,” he tutors, his tone dusky, his breath hot on the patch of hair between your legs as he pulls up slightly to talk, his eyes burning into yours.

You watch, mesmerised, as he flattens his tongue wide and lowers his face to lick a long strip through your entire slit, morphing into a spear as he maps your clit, swirling around all sides. It's so intense your channel flutters, wishing his fingers were still inside you. 

“Yes, that is it, you like that, do you not? Come on,” he coaxes as he takes a deep breath, inhaling your body scent. The way he is handling you, so absorbed in you, a euphoric feeling burns behind your ribs at the idea he wants your pleasure.

He envelopes your clitoral hood and sucks hard. His eyes flashing with pride as he has to grab your hips and hold you down, your back arching off the bed, crying out without caring if anyone can hear. The way he growls as you do so tells you exactly how much he wants to hear it, his pride that he can do this to you.

Something primal washes over you as he bites gently on your swollen clit, holding it between his teeth as you feel two fingers at your entrance pushing in, making you cry as you stretch around him, your body accommodating them even as you feel so filled.

“Anthony… Anthony, my lord,” you chant repeatedly as he holds you down with one strong arm and rocks his fingers shallowly into your body, his tongue swirling. It’s a sight that you can’t look away from. His hips flex into the bed almost involuntarily, as if his cock needs friction, too.

You feel that tide rising somehow more potent when orchestrated by him, a white-hot burning where he plays you and a tension in all your muscles.

“Give it to me,” he snarls, muffled, feeling the ripples around your clit and pussy against his face and fingers.

He redoubles his efforts, almost mercilessly lashing you with his tongue, varying pressure and speed. Entirely without meaning to, your hands fly into his hair, loving the sensation of thick curls sinking between your fingers as you grasp his strands, making him cry out right into your body. And it’s precisely what you need.

Every fibre of your being held taut and shaking now snaps, the pressure inside you like a dam breaking, so much more intense than you have ever experienced from just your fingers. Something almost inexplicable, ephemeral, your body experiencing a hundred different things firing at once. Your world contracting and exploding. You can feel your own heartbeat in your extremities, a rush of blood in your ears, eyes screwed shut as you shudder under him, and yet he moves with you as your hips roll in waves, his mouth never leaving your body. You know you are leaking onto his face, your inside clenching powerfully around his fingers. Dimly, you are aware the noises you make are loud, but you find yourself unable to prevent it and don't even want to.

As you recover, he crawls over your prone body as you lay there panting, fundamentally changed in the sharing of this experience with him, of him to be the one to make your body reach its peak. A true awakening of your senses.

It’s then he kisses you for the first time since a cursory brush of lips at the altar on your wedding day. His face musky with your juices, his lips hot, soft and damp as they press to yours. This is so different to that kiss. It's lingering and hot, his lips plush on yours.

His handsome face breaks into a dazzling smile as he looms over you, the back of his hand gently brushing down your cheekbone as you stare up at him dazed, the taste of yourself seeping through your lips. “Rest for now, my dear wife.” His tone is softer now, the use of wife instead of little one making your breath catch.  “I shall return tonight, and you shall become a woman,” his voice laden with untold promise.

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies @Mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23

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[natti-ice]

@anglbby444: “I never imagined you to be so sensitive, but I love it.” 18+ mdni

(Reuploaded)

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

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Anthony’s hands wander down your back as the two of you share a passionate kiss, his finger expertly undo every button down your silky night dress allowing it to slip off completely. His hands immediately moved to your bare waist as he gently caresses your soft skin, he works his way up to your exposed breasts and lightly brushes his fingers over your hardening nipples. You let out a soft whimper against his mouth, his soft touches sent a wave of pleasure through your body. He pulls back from the kiss and breathlessly whispers “I never imagined you to be so sensitive, but I love it.” A smirk curved on his lips before he bends down and attaches his lips to one of your very sensitive nipples.

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Tags: @thatweirdgirlwholives @themadhattersqueen @itsyagirlmeee @perseephoneee @let-love-bleeds-red

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[whispersoftheton]

Anthony bridgerton x wife!reader. Maybe his wife has quite a childlike innocence that the women of the ton take to be weirdness and they tend to isolate her but she never knows why. Maybe they’re newly married and she decides to invite some of the ladies for tea but no one shows up and she’s upset because she’s confused and Anthony comforts her and joins her for tea instead to cheer her up.

Hey! Thank you so much for requesting this & for being so patient! This wasn't meant to be this long but it sort of took on a life of its own. I hope you enjoy it <3

Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none just comfort :)

Word Count: 1.1K

Every square inch of Aubrey Hall's walls flourished with the season's most stunning flowers, the gardens lush as far as the eye could see. The breeze did little to cool you off from the summer heat as you sat under the tent, sipping your afternoon tea overlooking the meadow alongside Violet Bridgerton. It had been a tedious day of tending to various duties around the household, and you were expecting company from some ladies of society later that evening. It seemed your schedule had been considerably more than full since your wedding a few months ago. Rather frankly, you were just as exhausted as you were delighted in your new marriage to the Viscount. Keeping up with the Bridgertons all while being the latest lady of the house proved to be quite the task. Sure, your introverted preferences to stay within the walls of your home with a good book or spend quiet time in the gardens studying the plants were different than the interests of the ladies of the ton. However, you always tried your very best to keep everyone surrounding you in good spirits while performing your obligations, always looking toward Violet for approval, wanting to stay within your welcome. She was the Viscountess before you, after all. You could only dream of living up to her in your new position. Overseeing every small detail runs smoothly across your home, not to mention the impending weight on your shoulders due to the responsibility of Anthony's sisters coming out in the following seasons. You didn't know how long you could keep this facade up if you were being honest with yourself. But you had standards to upkeep, ways in which the Viscountess held her own beside her husband, and the last thing you ever wanted to do was let Anthony or his family down.

The sun blared upon the exquisitely green grass; surrounding the field on the outer edges were countless trees with blossoming flowers overflowing the gardens. Springtime at Aubrey Hall, indeed, was like no other. You turned your attention toward the Pall Mall game. Your husband stood before his siblings, mumbling something you were sure was some tease towards Eloise, making you smirk. Anthony turned toward the field and adjusted his grip on the mallet before making his final shot. A generous mix of disappointed grumbles and cheers erupted from the handful of Bridgertons as he made the final winning score. Half of them scrambled to debate the shot while the other half stood by, giggling toward them.

Anthony left his siblings to argue among themselves over the game he now reigned as champion over. Eloise was clearly bitter and left feeling she had been made a mockery over this loss after spending her spare time practicing for this very moment. Anthony placed his mallet on the stand alongside the others and approached you. He graciously extended his hand toward you, motioning you to go with him before the both of you bid goodbye to his mama and slipped out of sight and into the grand home.

"Eloise is taking quite hard, isn't she?" You said as he guided you through the doors. "She must have thought her practice would allow her to best you once and for all."

"Having hopes of besting her older yet clearly more skilled brother? Unlikely, my love." Anthony taunted, evidently still on a high from his victory. You stood in the main room while Anthony poured himself a drink, beckoning you to join him before you politely declined.

"I cannot. I am having the ladies over for tea shortly, and I cannot be anything less than perfection for their arrival." Anthony wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in for a brief kiss. Enough to have you wrapping your arms around his neck and yearning for more as he pulled away just enough for your noses to brush tenderly against one another.

"No moment in time exists in which you are not perfection, my love." Anthony's smile warmed your heart as you relaxed against him. "They will love you as much as I do; I am sure of it." His validation and loving gaze melted any lingering stresses still dancing around in your head. All that was left was to check off some last-minute preparations, and the tea could commence.

The late afternoon sun cast dispersed shadows across the cobblestone path. Anthony strolled into his home since returning from a lengthy afternoon of business meetings and running several errands around town. Anthony had hoped to come home to you excitedly telling him of your afternoon tea with the ladies of the ton. Instead, he found the halls seemed eerily calm for this time of day. He entered the main room and caught you sitting quietly on one of the sofas in a far corner. You curled up beside the unlit fireplace, twirling your fingers anxiously in your lap when you felt Anthony take a seat beside you.

"Sweetheart." Anthony paused before placing his hand in your lap. You didn't know if it was for comfort or to stop you from fidgeting. His warmth was welcome either way. "Is something wrong?" He cautiously asked.

"No one came." The words strained from your throat. "I know your mama and sisters left this morning on a day's travel, but I hoped-." Your voice broke before resuming. "I hoped at least someone would have-." Tears brimmed your eyes, and scattered tears stained across the top of your dress, some still falling down your cheeks. Anthony's hand cupped your face, his thumb gently preventing the tears from their continued flow. He took your hands in his and placed a lingering kiss on your knuckles before standing before you and offering you his hand. Without another word, Anthony dragged you along the halls and out into the gardens. Various flowers bloomed around you, and he brought you to one of the rarer flowers now flourishing on the property.

"What are we doing here?" You questioned while admiring the intricate patterns in which the vine had taken, the beautiful springtime flora temporarily making you forget the catastrophe of this afternoon. Anthony stepped closer from behind, arms wrapping around you as he whispered in your ear.

"It is when I am gazing upon the most exquisitely beautiful flower in the garden that I think of you." Tears again swelled inside you, but for a different reason this time. "The day will come when the world will see the beauty I am fortunate enough to hold near every day. In the meantime, I get you all to myself, hm?" The warmth and comfort of his words and presence enveloped you, brushing away the day's worries and woes with an ease only he possessed. His voice was a soothing balm for your soul that always had a way of convincing you everything would be okay. Because when you were around Anthony, you knew it would be.

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