#Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

[randomfanfics02]

Five times I whispered 'I love you.' Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader.

Summary; Being Daphne's best friend had its perks, growing up alongside the Bridgerton family, going to the balls with them, and falling in love with her older brother.

Warning; shit tone of fluff, little smut, angst. Family death; readers mother passed away and Father is ill with similar traits as the King. Readers last name is Taylor.

Distractions.

"Y/n,"

You pause, looking through the mirror at Daphne, your fingers run through your curls, a simple lilac dress hugging your frame beautifully.

"Dear, why are you running?" You laugh, raising a questioning brow at the oldest Bridgerton daughter.

"I need your help, the Duke is on his way and I need a moment alone with him-"

"Out of wedlock," You turn around to face Daphne, with a gasp, you place a hand on your chest with a teasing smirk, "How scandalous."

Daphne whacks your shoulder, passing you to take a lipstick from her vanity, "No, I need you to go downstairs and distract Anthony for me, mother has taken the others to the market and you are my only help."

"It will cost you three new books-"

"Of course," Daphne beams, pressing a kiss on your cheek, "Thank you."

You hum in reply, the two of you quickly scurrying to window as the carriage arrives at the front of the house. You both share a look before the two of rush out her room and down the stairs, hands held together as you try not too trip over your dresses.

"Go quickly, I'll distract him," You gently push Daphne towards the door before rushing towards Anthony's office.

Taking a deep breath, you straighten your dress and gently knock on his door. Hearing a faint, 'come in', you gently open the door, popping your head around the corner as he looks up from his desk.

"Lord Bridgerton," You greet with a smile, "I was wondering-"

"What are you up too?" Anthony frowns, placing down his work, "You have that look on your face-"

"I have no look upon my face-"

"You certainty do-"

"My face holds nothing but beauty,"

Anthony laughs, standing up as you smile teasingly at him, "You hold a lot of beauty, Lady Taylor."

You feel your cheeks blush as he gets himself a drink, he leans against his desk as he watches you. You hold his eyes for a moment before clearing your throat, "I was wondering if you wanted to walk with me in the gardens, Daphne is busy-"

"Of course," Anthony replies, taking his jacket from the back of his chair.

"Are you not busy?"

"Not for you," Anthony offers you his arm with a smile, "And I can't have my sisters dear friend wondering around alone."

You smile, taking his arm as the two of you head towards the gardens, you look over your shoulder catching Daphne followed by the Duke who gives you a cheeky wink to which you roll your eyes at playfully.

Anthony holds the door for you, and you head out into the gardens. Beautiful lines of flowers lead down the garden path towards the pond, where a tall white fountain sits in the middle of it.

"Its beautiful out here," You say, letting your fingertips run over tall pink flowers, "You should host a picnic."

Anthony hums in agreement, "And whom should attend?"

"Me," You raise a brow at him, making him tilt his head down towards yours with a smile on his own.

"You practically live here," He jokes, "But you are more than welcome."

Your hand falls from Anthony's arm as Hyacinth and Gregory come bounding towards the two of you, their nanny running close behind with bright red cheeks. You catch Hyacinth in your arms, placing the ten year old on you hip as she hugs you.

"Y/n," She beams, "Have you seen our new flowers, mother had them placed by the entrance, they are tall and purple and-"

"They are beautiful," You press a kiss on her cheek, Anthony watches with small smile, holding Gregory's hand in his own as the four of you continue your walk, "What are you two playing?"

"We were just running around," Gregory answers, gently swinging his and Anthony's hands.

"Sounds exhausting," You roll your eyes playfully as Hyacinth giggles at you.

"Anthony?" Gregory pauses, pointing over into the distance, "What is that?"

Your eyes go wide as Anthony looks over at you, then towards the carriage at the front of the house. Anthony races towards the entrance as you place down Hyacinth, taking hers and Gregory's hand as you follow behind him.

Reaching the entrance, the carriage is long gone, leaving Daphne stood at the doors with a small smile. Anthony skids to a stop, looking up at his sister with a questioning look. You stop beside Daphne, holding a cheeky smile as he glares at you, now knowing your true intentions for wanting to go for a walk.

"I best excuse myself," You press a kiss on the two youngest's head before pressing one on Daphne's kiss, who whispers a thank you. Making your way down the steps, you lean up to press a kiss on his cheek, "Have a lovely evening, Ant."

Anthony watches you walk away, fingertips brushing over his cheek as Daphne laughs, he glares up at her, "You are unable to question my love life if you are unable to sort out yours, brother."

Anthony watches as his sister ushers his little brother and sister inside the house before looking over his shoulder in the distance you had wondered off too.

2. Always.

"Lady Taylor,"

You jump in surprise as The Duke bursts into the room, eyes wide, breathing heavily, cloths in disarray. It was late a night, your home library only lit up by a few candles. You place down your book, heart pounding in your chest as catch onto the worry in his eyes.

"Daphne has gone into labour, Y/n," He hurries, offering you his hand as you rush with him through your house.

"What is happening?" Your father questions, stepping outside of his office.

"It's Daphne papa," You quickly explain, slipping on your shoes, "She has gone into labour."

"Wish her my best," You father smiles, looking over your shoulder at the Duke who takes your hand again gently pulling you along, "And you too son, you'll be a fine father."

The Duke smile quickly, closing the doors behind you before climbing into the carriage, "Are you alright?"

Simon nods, knee bobbing up and down, his face written with anxiety, "I am worried."

"Daphne is a strong woman, I have grown up alongside her and she will be a wonderful mother," You reassure him before teasingly adding, "So will you."

Simon laughs, "Thank you, Y/n. She asked for you, she needs you beside her."

"Always."

"As did the Viscount," Simon says, you open your mouth to reply but he beats you too it, "He trusts you, I have never seen Anthony so infatuated."

The rest of the carriage ride is sat in silence. Your heart pounding in your chest as you arrive, Simon rushes out before you, you quickly following as you rush towards Daphne's room. Reaching the hallway towards her room, The Duke runs past the siblings who sit scattered outside the in the hallway. Anthony pushes off the wall he was leaning on, quickly taking your hands as Daphne's scream echoes down the hall as Simon walks back into her room.

Your eyes stay onto his, squeezing his hand, "I have too-"

"I know," Anthony nods, pressing a gently kiss on your hands, "Be with her."

You walk past the siblings, pressing a quick kiss on Hyacinth's head as you pass. Anthony watches as you close the bedroom door behind you, before sighing, slumping back down beside Benedict.

"Are you ever going to come to your senses?"

Anthony frowns, looking at his brother, "Pardon?"

"Y/n, she has grown with us," Benedict leans his head back against the wall, "You don't look at her like how Colin and I do, you look at her as if she holds your world."

Anthony shakes his head, "I do not wish to burden Y/n with our family-"

"She is family."

Hours had past. Gregory and Hyacinth had gone to bed, the rest of the siblings fallen asleep in the hall. Benedict passes his brother a drink as he rubs his eyes tiredly.

"I believe it will be a boy," Benedict mumbles tiredly as Anthony hums in agreement.

Their heads shot up as you quietly come from the room, gently closing it behind you, you smile brightly, "It's a boy."

Anthony and Benedict share a laugh, as the other siblings startle awake. They celebrate together as Anthony walks towards you, gently wiping away the happy tear that rolled down your cheek. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead as you rest your hands on his chest as holds you close.

"Thank you, Y/n."

"Always, Anthony."

3. Take my hand.

Aubrey Hall looked stunning under the summer sun, the garden decorated with numerous tents, surrounding a platform for dancing, a band siting in the corner.

"It looks truly beautiful," Daphne mutters as you nod in agreement, watching as Lords and Ladies began to dance under the evening sky.

Anthony and Colin walk up to the two of you and Anthony takes a moment to take in how breath taking you look. A sheer black dress sat over a burgundy one with think straps, sheer black gloves reach over your elbows, dark hair curled and pulled into a perfect bun. He smiled gently as you thank him for the drink he passed you, the four of you stand on the steps watching down on the garden party.

"Is that Lord Elton your father is talking too?" Colin asks, squinting under the sun as the three of your follow Colin's gaze, "Why would your father be speaking to Lord Elton, the man that has been rumoured to be the biggest prick of the ton."

Anthony reaches behind you, smacking his brother around the back of his head, but none-the-less doesn't disagree.

"Why would your father be talking to Lord Elton?" Colin asks as Daphne and yourself share a worried expression.

"I will be back in a moment," You rush down the steps and hurry towards your father.

Anthony watches with a heavy feeling sat in his heart as you gently interrupt their conversation. His stare hardens as Lord Elton gently presses a kiss on the back of your hand.

"Stop glaring," Daphne gently nudges her older brothers arm.

"Lady Y/n looks beautiful tonight, I am sure he is hoping for much more,"

Anthony smacks his brother again as Daphne rolls her eyes at the two, "Anthony, you truly need to see that Y/n would be a fine wife for you."

"She is your closest friend, Daphne," Anthony replies, swallowing thickly as he watches you, "She is family-"

"She makes the world stop for you, doesn't she?" Daphne rhetorically asks, "She makes you happy and you make her happy too, I only wish for the two of you to be happy together."

Anthony looks down at his sister, mirroring her soft smile as he presses a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Colin chuckles, "In other words brother, be a man and tell her how you feel." Colin ducks before his older brother could smack him.

You pull your father to the side as Lord Elton walks away to get himself a drink. Your father was the only family you had after your mother's passing a few years ago. Recently, your father had been having these spells as your father calls it, moments where he forgot about the world around him and focused on the stars, believing your mother was calling him from the stars.

"Lord Elton is a good man-"

"Father, I understand you are worried but he is not a good man, I wouldn't be happy-"

"But you would be safe and have money, the children you have will be looked after," You father gently argues, cupping your face he brushes his thumb over your cheek, "If I can not remember you, my darling, I want to forget with you secure and with someone I trust."

"You trust him?" You ask, brows pinched together as you look at your father, "Don't you want me to be happy?"

"Lord Elton is hardly around, he is wealthy," You father answers, "You would have my inheritance-"

"That he would take, he is a wicked man-"

"You mustn't think the worst of people," Your father's gaze harden slightly as he sighs, shoulders dropping, "I don't know how long I have left and I need you to be safe when I pass."

"I will-"

"Lord Elton will provide for you, and he has enough to do so," You father finalizes, "I will be giving him my blessing."

Your father walks away as you watch with a sudden pit of anxiety sat in your stomach. Looking over your shoulder the Bridgeton siblings had disappeared which your thankful for as you rush up the stairs and into the house.

You rush further into the house, away from the garden party, you finally sob, pressing a gloved hand over your mouth as you slide down the wall, falling into tears.

Outside Anthony watches as you quickly walk away and into the house, passing his drink to Benedict before quickly following. He smiles politely as people greet him before rushing further into the house. Anthony frowns, falling beside you to bring you into a hug letting you sob into his chest.

"My father is ill," You whisper, as you wipe away your tears, moving to lean your head on his shoulder.

"I am sorry," Anthony replies, pressing a kiss on your head, "What is wrong?"

"He has these spells," You quietly say, "He believes he can hear my mother and she is telling him to meet him in the stars, he has fits and spells of anger where he locks himself in his office."

"What can be done?" Anthony take one of your gloves off, lacing your fingers together.

"Nothing," You reply, wiping another fallen tear, "He wants to marry me off to Lord Elton so he can pass knowing I am safe-"

"Lord Elton is a wicked man-"

"Please tell my father, Ant," You lean your chin on his shoulder as he peers down at you, "I don't want to marry him."

"I know," Anthony presses a kiss on your forehead, "I won't let it happen."

You breath a laugh, tightening your hand in his, "And how will you do that, my Lord?"

Anthony swallows thickly, before resting his forehead on yours, "Whatever to make sure you are happy."

4. Our final moment.

On a warm summers day, your father hosted a game of croquet, inviting the Bridgerton family, The Duke and Lord Elton for a friendly game. Taylor summer house was grand, your favourite home; tall tower like structures either side of the grand entrance, a library with bookcases from the floor to the ceiling and a garden that reached for miles, the house surrounded by trees. It was simply beautiful.

"May I say," Lord Elton says, pushing back his thick dark hair off the thin line of sweat, "This house would be magnificent to raise children in."

You share a look with Daphne after Lord Elton winked at you. Anthony glared at him as the Duke nudged him, raising a brow at him to which he rolled his eyes at. You gently tugged the sleeves of your lace sleeves over your knuckles as your father awkwardly chuckles, breaking the slight pause at the Lord's comment.

"I think Lord Taylor and I will sit the rest of this out," Violet gently smiles, placing a comforting hand on your arm sensing your uneasiness.

"I agree, I grow tired quickly now I grow old," You father jokes, smiling gratefully as Benedict passes him a drink before he sits.

"You've been old for awhile, father," You press a quick kiss on his head as you pass, smiling as Anthony passes you a blue mallet. The sibling's yourself and the Duke, carry on with the game, walking down the garden hill to the next match.

"What a quick tongue," Lord Elton jokes, taking the yellow mallet from Anthony's hand, "I am sure we can fix that when you'll be mine."

"I am no object you can claim," You take the yellow mallet from his hands, passing it back to Anthony as you pass, "And I do not need to be fixed."

Anthony shares a smirk with Simon as Daphne and Eloise share a laugh hidden under their hands. Benedict pats your shoulder with a proud smile before you take your shot perfectly.

As the game continues, you stand beside Anthony and Daphne, laughing gently at Colin's misfortune and bad aim. Lord Elton follows on, whacking the ball and Anthony's out the way making Anthony's roll down the hill. Anthony glares as you roll your eyes at Lord Elton's smirk. Daphne goes next, sending a cheeky wink to her husband as she hits your ball, coincidently making it follow Anthony's.

"I guess we need to go for a hunt, Lord Bridgerton," You smile cheekily, taking Anthony's arm.

As Lord Elton goes to object, Anthony smiles, "We will catch up, continue."

Simon wraps an arm around Daphne's shoulders as the two share a knowing smile.

Anthony and yourself walk down the hill, your hand falls into his in a more intimate moment, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The two of you found your croquet balls stuck in mud at the edge of the tree line.

"Come on,"

Anthony watches as you walk into the mud, bunching your dress in one hand. You whack the ball out of the mud, before looking at Anthony with a raised brow. He chuckles before sighing as he steps into the mud, whacking the ball out of the mud and beside yours. Anthony takes a step out of the mud, sighing at his new black shoes now covered in mud.

"Anthony,"

Anthony looks over at you, who is struggling to get out of the mud, your mallet now fallen beside you as you try and pull your foot out. Anthony steps back into the mud, hand catching yours, as he gently pulls you into his arms.

Looking down at you, you hold onto his arms, tugging gently to try and free yourself, "May I lift you?"

"You may,"

Placing his hands on your waist, you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he lifts you out of the mud. As he goes to walk out of the mud, he finds himself stuck making to two of you tumble forward. You back hits the mud first, his body falling on yours. The two of you gaze at each other, before breaking into a fit of laughter, your arms wrap around his shoulders, legs slotted together.

"Your covered in mud," Anthony murmurs as the laughter dies, bright smiles gracing your faces.

"My back and just your knees," You wink, "How scandalous."

Anthony laughs again, eyes searching yours as his cheeks blush pink, "A rumour that may save you from marriage."

"So that was your plan all along,"

"Possibly."

His eyes flickered over your face, before falling onto your lips, you barely tilted your head at him, raising your brows when you let your eyes level at his mouth, at those pink lips.

"Anthony," You breathlessly whispered.

His lips meet in the most romantic kiss, one full of passion and unspoken love. A muddied hand cupped your cheek as Anthony leaned down on his elbow beside your head, you hands fell to cup the back of his head, fingertips running down his nape as you pulled him, if possible, closer. You moaned into his mouth as the hand that once cupped your cheek gripped your hip tightly bunching your dress in his fist as instinctively hitch your leg over his hip.

The kisses turn more hungry and needy, his tongue dancing over yours as his hips press into yours. His hand runs over your ankle that sits on his hip, running his hand down the length of your smooth leg before resting it on your upper thigh.

"Lady Y/n! Anthony!"

The two of you quickly pull apart as Colin comes bounding down the hill. Scrambling to your feet, Anthony helps you out of the mud before picking up your mallet passing it to you before picking up his own. Colin stops, looking between the two of you with a wide cheeky grin.

"You have a little mud on your cheek," Colin points to your cheek making your eyes go wide as you quickly try brushing away the mud off your cheek.

"We will be there in a moment," Anthony tells his brother.

Colin nods, unable to take the smile off his face as he sends you a cheeky wink before walking back up the hill. Anthony takes his handkerchief from his pocket, standing in front of you as her cups your cheek, gently cleaning the mud from your cheek. His eyes never leave yours as he does. Shrugging out of his jacket, he wraps it around your shoulders, helping you slide your arms into his jacket.

"To hide the mud," He quietly jokes, making you blush.

"Thank you," Anthony smiles, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

5. 'I love you.'

Lord Elton held a ball in order to celebrate your engagement. Though it was a little beforehand as you had yet to be asked for your hand in marriage. The hall was decorated beautifully with white flowers, tall champagne towers and a band playing on a stage.

Anthony was unable to look away from you; a white dress with lace detailing and long sleeves that fell over your knuckles, flower embroidery decorating the skirt. You hair was long and curled, half of it pinned back with delicate pearls.

"You are staring again," Eloise nudged her brothers arm.

"I can not help it," Anthony admits, eyes meeting your as you look over your shoulder, you send him a kind smile though your eyes betray you true feelings.

"This is your last chance to tell her," Eloise tells him softly, taking a sip of her drink, "Or Lord Prick will marry her."

Anthony chuckles, looking down at his sister fondly, "Stop listening to Colin's foul language."

"I believe I learnt that from you, brother."

You grasp your father hand in your own as his began to shake. Lord Elton rambles on about something, but you pay no attention, focusing on your father.

"Lord, I hope you don't mind but I think my father has had enough for tonight," You smile gently at him, "I think its time to go home."

"Of course, I will accompany you-"

"That isn't necessary-"

"When you are mine, I will not let you out of my sight," Lord Elton pulling your father closing to him and out of your hand, "I will take him to the carriage, get whatever you need."

You watch helplessly as he takes you father away, worry sitting in the pit of your stomach as you gently push through the crowd. The announcement that the ball is over is shouted as you take Daphne's hand, gently pulling her aside.

Her worried eyes meet your own, "My father is about to have a spell and Lord Elton is coming with us, possibly to propose, what do I do?"

She squeezes your hand, "Talk to him, quickly. My brother loves you, go before it's too late."

You nod, quickly pressing a kiss on her cheek before quickly walking towards the eldest Bridgerton brother. He stands alone, waiting for his siblings and mother to collect themselves before getting into the carriage. His eyes widen as you approach meeting you halfway, placing his hand on your shoulders as his eyes meet your worried ones.

"What happened?"

"I am taking my father home, he is unwell," You rush out, "Tell me you love me."

"Pardon-?"

"The prick will propose with my father's blessing in his state, he is playing a wicked game and I know it, so tell me you love me as I love you and be the man my father wants me to marry, be that man I feel safe with."

Anthony's brain pauses, his heart stopping as his hands fall from your shoulders. You heart hurts, taking his moment to mean rejection. You look over your shoulder as a butler calls your name, telling you a carriage has arrived.

Looking back at Anthony, he stares, eyes glazed over as you nod once before walking away, brushing past the Bridgerton siblings, ignoring Daphne as she calls your name.

"He missed his chance," Eloise sadly mutters, head falling onto Benedict's shoulder as he watches his older brother crumble.

---

Holding your father's hand tightly, you guide him through the house as he mutters quietly to himself. Taking him into the office, you sit him down into the chair before pulling the curtains closed, closing your father away from the heavy rain and sudden shout of thunder.

"What is happening?" Lord Elton asks as you father mutters to himself, head in hands as you kneel beside him.

"He is fine," You defensively dismiss him, "Thank you for your assistance but you may leave-"

"He is losing his mind," Lord Elton laughs, watching as your father gently rocks himself, looking up at the ceiling, muttering about your mother and the stars, "Look at the man."

"Don't you dare-"

"Do what?" Lord Elton rhetorically asks, taking a further step into the office, "You are simply a woman and he is a freak."

"You are simply a beast of a man, one that is cruel and heartless," You spit, clutching your father hands tighter in your own as a tear rolls down your cheek, "I will never except your hand in marriage."

Lord Elton glare down at you, before spitting horridly at yours and your fathers feet, "I wouldn't touch the Bridgerton's whore anyway."

"Leave before I write to the Queen herself, describing how much of a prick you truly are, and then no woman will want to touch you."

Lord Elton snarls before slamming every door on his way out. You turn to your father, letting go of one of his hands to gently cup his face, he tiredly blinks at you as you wipe away a tear.

"I am sorry," Your father quietly whispers, "I am so sorry, my dear."

"Do not apologise, you wanted what was best for me," You reply with a quick pained smile, "But I am afraid what I thought was best for me, doesn't want me."

"Anthony knows, he is just scared." Your father gently rests his forehead on yours, "Your mother was everything to me, when you where born you became everything as well, I want what is best for you and I got carried away in my own worries that you would be alone when I pass that I was unable to see how I was going to marry you with a man that was going to do more harm than happiness."

"You need to rest," You pull away, standing up to help him, "I will ask the cook to get you something warm to eat-"

"I can do that, darling," You father squeezes your hand, giving you a warm smile, "Go and find your happiness."

"I can not leave you like this-"

You father presses a kiss on the back of your hand, "I will be fine, now go."

---

"I froze, how could I be so stupid?"

Benedict sighs, sitting beside his brother, who holds his head in his hands, cheeks stained with tears. Daphne kneels in front of him, placing a hand on his knee as Violet sits the other side of him, placing a comforting hand on her son's back.

"Love makes us do stupid things," His mother gently whispers sadly.

"I have loved her for so long and Y/n tells me she loves me and I suddenly do not know how to reply," Anthony finally breaks, looking at his mother as a tear runs down his cheek, "I have lost her."

"No, no you have not," Violet brings her son in her arms, pressing a kiss on his head, "You can still go to her, tell her before it is too late."

"Lord Elton-"

"Do you honestly believe that Y/n would chose Lord Elton over the one she truly loves?"

Anthony looks down at his sister, who offers him a knowing smile. Benedict pats his brother's shoulder, mirroring Daphne's smile.

Violet nods, squeezing her son's hand tightly, "Go and get your happiness, Anthony."

---

The maids shout after you as you rush out of the house, hands gripping your dress tightly as you run through the rain. You hair sticks to your neck, the white dress ruined but you couldn't find yourself to care.

The Bridgerton siblings and Violet watch as Anthony rushes out of the house, smiling happily as they watch Anthony run down the street. Simon takes his wife's hand in his own, pressing a kiss on her head before gently taking his son out of her arms. Eloise beams as Colin wraps an arm around her shoulder as Benedict wraps his arms around the two youngest. Violet wipes the tear off her cheek as she finally watches her eldest son chase after the purest love.

Rounding the corner, the streets are empty, only lit up by the golden glow from the house windows. You suddenly stop as he does, standing opposite sides of the road. His hair sticks to his forehead, white skirt sticking to his arms as his blue waistcoat is soaked in rain.

Your chest heaves as your heart pounds in your chest, the two of you clash into a hug. His arms wrap around your waist as your wrap around his shoulders, holding you close to him, he presses a light kiss on your neck before pulling away slightly.

"I do, I do love you," Anthony breaths out, "I am sorry I froze, but hearing you tell me you love me, I- It was all I have ever wanted to hear."

You smile, gently pressing a hand to the back of his nape, resting his forehead to yours, "There are many reasons why I couldn't marry Lord Elton, not only because he was a prick but because I couldn't imagine marry anyone else but you."

"Then marry me," Anthony says, nose brushing against yours as he smiles, "Let me call you my wife, let me have children with you, grow old with you, let me kiss you when I want, let me love you."

You share a kiss under the stars, one full of spoken and knowing love, one of passion and understanding. His hand holds the back of your head as your hands slide down his shoulders, resting on his chest, his heart thumping under your touch. He holds onto desperately, kissing you with all his love, before gently pulling away, resting his forehead on yours with a love sick smile.

"I love you," Anthony whispered against your lips.

"I love you too."

[peachpitfics]

Don't Blame Me

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Daphne Bridgerton is your closest childhood friend, her eldest brother, Anthony, is the love of your life. After avoiding each other for years, you both finally lose control.

Length: 3.2k

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Unprotected sex, sex in public, penetrative vaginal sex, orgasm, 'caught in the act' vibes, best friends brother.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Like many other close family friends of the Bridgerton’s, their home was always a beacon of safety and comfort, especially for you. You were Daphne Bridgerton’s first friend, and you had remained close well into adulthood, she wrote to you still from her new life with the Duke. Unfortunately, Daphne would not be able to meet you in Mayfair this season, the Bridgerton’s playing host while your mother and father were out of the country. It was your third year out; you had a few hopeful matches in mind, not realizing how difficult the season might be with unobtainable love staring you in the face.

“We are so glad to have you this year, y/n. It has been so long since we have seen you around the Ton” Violet Bridgerton was as much your mother as your own.

“Father’s responsibilities have been consuming these past few years. Mother and I hardly made it to the season last year. I am glad to be here, spending some time in familiar places” You smiled, linking arms with her as she escorted you to the ballroom. Your parents had entrusted your match to you, however, had requested the viscountess to keep a watchful eye.

Waltzing into the drawing room, just like old times, Benedict and Colin, discarding their playing cards, exclaimed with joy, rushing to greet you as if a long-lost sibling had returned. There was nothing as lonely as being an only child, deep in the countryside. Eloise was fretting in the corner, fingers agitated, tapping the outside of a book. This was to be her coming out year.

Anthony entered from the far side door, his feet skidding to a halt at the sight of you.

“You arrived” Anthony said flatly, turning on the ball of his foot, and exiting as quickly as he had come in. Embarrassed, you frowned, smiling chastely praying no one would notice his strange behaviour. It had been a year since you had last seen each other.

“I apologise, he is so bizarre in the mornings lately” Violet squeezed your shoulders, leading you over to a table laden with treats. Sitting on the settee with Hyacinth and Eloise, eating small cakes and discussing the books being read amongst you were some of the precious things you missed about living in the city.

In an unsuspicious amount of time, you excused yourself from company to find the washroom. Anthony stood outside the drawing room, leaning against the wall, unblinking and mind drifting elsewhere. You ignored each other walking past, which felt a lot like tiny shards of glass embedding into your heart. Locking yourself in the washroom, trying desperately to keep tears at bay, you looked into the mirror and told yourself it did not matter. You were going to find love this year, somewhere else. 

When you opened the door, Anthony had moved, he was nearly pressed against the door, waiting for you to come out. He stuffed himself into the washroom with you, closing the door as silently as he could.

“Why are you here?” He asked. He looked different from a year ago, he had changed quite a lot more than you were expecting. He had shortened his hair and filled out into his body. His hands looked the same, the same ring on that damned finger, flexing in distress and awkward guilt.

“It is the beginning of the social season. I am here to find a husband.” You stated plainly.

“A husband?” He scoffed, charming disdain painted across his face.

“Yes, it is what young ladies do in polite society. Was that unclear?” You asked. Your lack of facial expression and tone seemed to startle him, he had no idea what you were thinking.

“Why are you acting this way?” Anthony stuttered forward, getting uncomfortably close.

With the melancholic drop of your shoulders, and a heavy exhale, you pushed past Anthony and made your way back to the drawing room. It was so like him to put the narrative back on you. Anthony should have asked himself why he was acting this way – after all, it was he who decided not to court you. It was he who decided to kiss you beside the carriage that night. It was he who decided the two of you should not speak any longer. It was he who broke your heart.

The remainder of the evening was free of Anthony, filled with laughter at the dining room table over a delectable dinner. The Bridgerton’s sense of family was everything to you – even if Gregory and Hyacinth were bickering for most of the meal, it still felt as it was meant to. Violet showed you to the guest room, it had not changed much over the years, it smelled the very same.

“I am sorry Anthony could not join us for dinner” Violet’s voice echoed with somber searching. Perhaps she had heard the two of you in the washroom?

“Do not be,” You said quickly, “His time is his own, he does not owe me anything” Violet bowed her head, words fighting against her lips. She instead pursed them into a smile and closed the door behind her. Those shards of glass moved again, every second in this house, nausea held you hostage, terrified of running into him in the halls.

Daphne was the only other person alive who knew what had happened between Anthony and yourself. She had been disappointed in him, angry with the way he had handled everything. While she promised there would never be a change to your friendship, it had never really been the same. You tossed and turned far longer than normal; your mind flooded with images of the past. Thrusting yourself out of bed, it was clear you were not going to be sleeping tonight, you decided that a distraction may be best. In your nightgown, candle in hand, you remembered your way to the study.

The study was clear of any inhabitants, it was tidy, and the few cases of books loomed high over you, reaching the ceiling. Nothing in the Bridgerton house seemed to change, except Anthony, and it was perpetually for the worse in your opinion. You selected a book randomly from the nearest shelf and perched yourself on the seat closest to the window, looking out over the square. Lounging sleepily, you read in the low candlelight, only disturbed by the creaking of the door, an unexpected sound, making you jolt.

“I knew you’d be in here” Anthony said softly, entering the room with caution as your emotionless face watched him. “You were always in here when we were children. No one could ever find you” His smile was humorless.

“You did” You waited before responding, wondering why he was here, speaking with you, “Why are you here, right now, Anthony?” You demanded.

Anthony moved to the seat across from yours, sitting gingerly, holding eye contact in the hopes you would not tell him to leave. You allowed him to sit, his hands folded in front of him.

“I don’t know” Anthony rubbed desperately at his forehead, “I just got up, and felt myself pulled here, some unknown force, dragging me to you” Anthony admitted. You had always been attracted to each other, always gravitating towards one another.

“I did not choose to come here; my mother asked a favor of yours. I would never have chosen to be this close to you. You destroyed me, Anthony” Tears welled to your eyes, “We cannot be near each other – you made that it very clear, you took what you wanted of me, and cast me aside” Hands pressed down on your knees, you pushed off, making for the closest exit. Anthony dashed around in front of you, placing his body between you and the door for the second time today.

“Goodnight, Viscount Bridgerton” You curtsied formally, hoping the rules of social engagement were enough for this man to understand the dangerous position he was putting both of you in, yet again.

Anthony’s hand trembled, reaching out, taking yours into his. His fingers tangled between yours, his grip strengthening when he realized you were not pulling away. His thumb affectionately circling the skin on wrist, the sound of his swallowing resounding across the empty room, his anxious tongue flicking over his lips. If anything was clear, it was the internal battle that seemed to be always happening inside Anthony’s mind.

His touch, the supreme legacy of your existence. His unsteady breath, captivating your common sense. The thrilling space between you slowly closing, heads bobbing forward as if intoxicated and unable to control oneself, meeting together in the middle in an exhilarating kiss, just like you had remembered it.

His lips were shamelessly enthusiastic, as if made for this very purpose, just for you. His forceful hands weaved into your loose hair, pulling you deeper into every kiss. You were overcome, that old bold, need for him to find its way out of the labyrinth you had designed for it. Anthony’s fingers pressed to your hips, his teeth nipped eagerly at the skin on your neck, softs sighs of delight followed.

It was when his hand moved sensually to your breast that you broke free of the enchanting dance you had found yourself in so many times before with him. Your body did not reflect the same pleasures, you took his hands from your body and laid them at his sides, and stood tall and stepped back.

“I am here to secure a husband, for my future” Tears found their way back to you.

“Y/n…” Anthony shook his head, stepping forward, trying to hold onto you again.

“If you cannot give me what I seek, please, stop hunting me down. I want a life with you, Anthony. I will love you until my dying breath… But you, you will never grow up” You said finitely, again, pushing your way past him and fleeing back to your room.

~

Most of the next day was spent in tired indifference, you remained in your room, preparing for the first ball of the season. Tears had stained your pillow the remainder of the night, each knock at the door struck a chord of hope in your heart, wishing for Anthony.

Eloise and Violet helped you into your gown, the ladies’ maids fixing your hair and face. Violet ran a motherly thumb under your puffy eye, her compassionate heart shining through her eyes and tender smile. You gave a little nod, knowing there was never anything you could hide from her – she knew everyone in the Bridgerton house better than she let on.

The Viscounts escorted Eloise into Lady Danbury’s estate, greeting the Queen and Lady Danbury ahead of you. Violet linked arms with you in solidarity, following Anthonys actions and proceeding into the ball.

“Who will you be accepting dances from this evening?” The Viscountess asked quietly.

“I am not restricting myself to names, I will dance with any eligible man who asks” You answered politely.

Violet gave your forearm a squeeze, “That is very sensible” She nodded, releasing you, sending you off into the lion’s den. You met up with Eloise, taking a short turn about the room to appear social, greeting the other young ladies who you’d met years previous. There were several older men who seemed to take an interest in you as you moved about the room with your friend. No one really stood out to you, no true love at first sight, much to your dismay.

Retiring to the wall with a glass of lemonade in hand, you watched the gorgeous young women excited to dance with suitors and recalled how that was never an experience you had.

Soon enough, one of the suitors who had shown interest in a season previous approached, positioning himself next to you. Lord Harlan Grahame was intelligent, considerate, and not entirely horrible to look at.

“Lord Grahame” You curtsied, a familiar smile finding its way back onto your face.

“Miss y/n, I do hope your mother and father are quite well” He remarked, having known them for many years now, he had noticed their absence.

“They are in abroad, my father has business to conduct in Greece and my mother only saw fit to tend to him during this time” You explained, “I am being hosted by the Bridgerton family. How is your family?” You asked in politeness.

“Fantastic, Mother has moved herself to the country and hopes to get yet another dog soon” He laughed, clearly happy to be free of her in his home. Laughing along with him, you spied Anthony, discreetly looking on from across the ballroom. The conversation between yourself and Lord Grahame was easy and hardly uncomfortable. He was charismatic enough that you could see yourself becoming quite fond of each other in no time at all. He made small jokes at no one’s expense, he offered refreshments frequently and complimented you in kindness. You could see and accept a perfectly happy future with the Lord.

Across the ballroom, sheer asperity brewed live in Anthonys eyes for all to see. He was known to have a temper amongst society. With a final twitch of his left eye, Anthony’s feet picked up under him, carrying him in your direction. Violet watched on, fear and embarrassment ready and willing in her chest.

“I apologise” You mumbled preemptively to Lord Grahame as Anthony arrived to interrupt your conversation.

“Miss y/n, may I have this dance?” Anthonys eyes were terrifying, filled with rage and jealousy. You paused, contemplating antagonizing him, forcing his hand, backing him into a corner. But relinquished, excusing yourself from Lord Grahames company, taking Anthony’s hand as he swept you off to the dancefloor.

You did not meet his eye, your nails dug into the skin on his hand in resentment. You said nothing to each other for the first several minutes of the dance.

“You cannot marry him” Anthony muttered in quiet, helpless indignation.

Giving him a great look of disbelief, “Who are you to tell me who I can marry? I do not answer to you, Viscount” You growled into his ear as he pulled you in tighter.

Anthony finished the dance, bowing to you, holding onto one of your hands with unbelievable force. He walked swiftly from the dance floor, conspicuously pulling you along behind him, and into a room down the hall.

“You cannot blame me for acting this way!” He yelled, “If I have to see you speak to another man this season, if I have to witness another man watch as you walk by – You have driven me to the brink of insanity” He heaved, frantic energy filling his body.

“What would you have me do? Spend my life in loneliness, a Spinster? Would that be convenient to you, Anthony?” You parried.

His hands ran through his hair stressfully, at a loss for words, unable to express himself in the way he wanted. His intention had not been to yell when he sequestered you away to this side room.

“I was fine! You left Mayfair, and I was well. Now, here you are – and God help me, I am intoxicated every second we are in the same room. Your presence is the most decadent drug, forcibly hypnotizing me. I am powerless to you” Anthonys words were like honey, carried on the end of a bee sting.

“You made your choice!” You yelled back at him, hoping the music was loud enough outside.

“I was young, y/n! I made the wrong choice!” He retorted, his words shaking, and unfiltered for the first time in a long time.

There was a second of unblinking silence between you before magnetic energy pulled you into each other, deranged nipping at each other’s lips ensued. Hands grabbed and grasped at skin and hair, trying to force your beings into one person. There was a white-hot craze that seemed to come over the both of you, and you had felt it before, a few times.

Anthony sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, biting and kissing in a spontaneous fire.

“Someone will hear” You moaned into his ear, as his teeth moved their way down your neck. Anthony did not seem to care, his mouth on your chest, fondling and sucking on your breasts, still sitting pertly in your dress. He was simply uncontrollable, his behaviour now inherently superior compared to when he had been speaking.

Anthony maneuvered your body across the room, hands comfortably held in places of control, his left on your lower back, his right splayed across your throat like the prettiest necklace. You reached the door, his hands twisting your hips to face it. Your palms met the wood, bracing as Anthony bent you slightly, kicking your feet apart with his. Anthony hiked up your gown, undoing his pants in the same instant and buried himself inside of you.

You mouth gaped silently, aghast at the entire situation, but thanking God above for the opportunity.

“Oh my god,” Anthony gnarled into your ear from behind, “Just like I remember it” He moaned, sinking deeper and deeper it felt like. Every thrust led with intense and vicious primality, his hands wrapped around each of your upper arms, for leverage. He was right, it was just how you remembered – overwhelming, devastating, unforgettable. You had thought about your secret affair with Anthony every day since you had moved away. The pleasure Anthony elicited from you sent you into a familiar haze, deep and indefensible. Every movement, every sound from him made you feel greedy, always wanting just a little more.

The way he pounded into your smaller frame rattled the wooden door you were leaning on. “Anthony! They are going to hear!” You squealed in a whisper back to him.

“Let them” He panted, “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I’m fucking my future wife” Anthony’s hand found its way into your hair, pulling your back sharply for a profound, wet kiss. Anthonys fingers sunk into the flesh of your hip, painfully pleasant as his nails clambered for an anchor. Your body arched back involuntarily, Anthony powering through fast, harsh thrusts as he found his inevitable end, placing sloppy kisses on your shoulder as he slowly finished moving inside of you.

You both leaned on the door in exhaustion, bodies heaving in unison. Anthony placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, stepping backwards and rebuttoning his breeches, fixing your dress behind you. You turned to face him slowly, knowing he could very well go back on every word he had said not moments before.

The softest smile enriched his face, his eyes lit in such a way that you had never seen them. His arm dashed out, pulling you into a grinning embrace, smooching dear kisses upon your lips.

“Loving you causes me delirium, y/n” He nipped at your nose, your foreheads planted together, eyes closed in tranquility.

As you stood, the doorknob gently turned and Violet Bridgerton slid her head through the gap, assumingly checking on the both of you; you had been in here for a little while longer than societally acceptable for two young single people.

Her hand flew over her heart, “Oh thank God!” She exclaimed, smiling ear to ear, a sense of pride glistened in her eyes.

“I cannot wait to write Daphne” The viscountess cheered quietly, finding it hard to contain her excitement. “I knew that you would find each other” She chuffed, slipping out, closing the door. Your foreheads knocked together again, never having a minutes peace in such a large family – you stood there a moment longer, relishing such a long awaited and monumental confession of your love.

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

tag list: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr //

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[skyrigel]

Tell me again [ AB ]

Pairing ~ Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Plot ~ after a long day at work, Anthony tells you how much he missed his wife <3

Warning: pregnant!reader, little teasing, shy!reader

Words : 0.8k

My other fic

Anthony bridgerton angst

" I thought you would be asleep..." Anthony murmured, words soft as melody spelled in the dark, hands crossed around his chest, his cuffs rolled up like usual after every tired night in his office, he smiled at you, a glint in his eyes.

" Why would I ? " I would wait for you at the worlds end, You turned to look at your husband, after a hard day, his eyes looked so tired and yet, they were sparkling, always when it was you.

" Oh my dearest wife." He moaned as he crossed the distance in two long strides, wrapping his hands around your waist all the while dropping to his knees,

"I missed you so much baby." He said, kissing your baby bump gently as he looked up with stars in his eyes.

" You didn't miss me Anthony ?! " You fake gasped, watching the slow chuckle make its way through the rings of his cartilage as he plucked the book you were holding.

" Oh you have no idea ! " He growled, taking both your hands in his and guiding them to his face, his eyes shutting as your fingers traced the face you adored so much, he hummed in response, kissing the soft skin of your wrist as watched you, one knuckle at a time, eyes never leaving yours.

" you think I haven't missed you ? " His asked, almost blazing, " you? " He said again, " There wasn't a moment when my soul didn't want to crawl and come to you, not a moment when i wanted to be anywhere but in your arms love." He squeezed your hand gently as you smiled, because you knew, knew how much he loved you.

" Have i told you how much I love your hands ? " He traced the lightening like green nerves that made it ways across your skin, he loved every bit of you, body, soul, mind and heart.

" You haven't," you replied, feeling your breath knocked out, heart punching against your ribs.

Anthony's lip quirked at your dazed eyes, he loved every and each version of you but he so much adored when you made your needs known, how much Anthony loved giving you what you wanted, you just have to say it for me, my sweet love, he had told you.

" This," Anthony said, his lips grazing at the slight raise of vein of your wrist, following it upto the crook of your arm, smiling in triumph as a strangled noise made it's way out of your throat.

" You like it ? " He tilted his head, brows raised in question, " mmm" you hummed softly but being the Viscount and smug bastard lord bridgerton was, he smirked.

" Say it in words my lady." He gazed up, you gave him one eye roll but opened your mouth anyway, " I do." You said ans Anthony resumed his venturing.

" And I have told you how much I love your collarbones ? " He hummed, planting open mouthed kisses all way to to dip of your neck, his breath lingered like a tattooed kiss, you dropped your head back on the couch as Anthony nipped at the raw skin of your neck.

You felt his smile the way his teeth tore into your flesh, his hand soothing your belly in circular patterns, the other cupping your breast and kneading it with all the time in the world, " You aren't telling me." He complaint, mouth fixed several inches away from yours as he looked deeply into yours eyes, your breath were uneven as you whined at the lack of lips on you, he understood and caressed your cheeks, leaning until a thread of wind was between you, you waited for touch to burn you, waited for his lips to crash into yours but alas!

" An..thony " you whimpered and he shaked his head, mouthing a small, No.

" You haven't " you whispered, closing the inches as his mouth pressed against yours in warm fuzzy music, like everything the poets talked about, Anthony smiled as pulled for a second away, his eyes peicring yours, mischief dangling through the corners and oh, how much you loved this man.

" I think I have..." He trailed, nose nuzzling at the dark reds and blues of your neck, he loved his little vicious games, loved to tease you, loved to drive you crazy.

" You have." You told him, " Tell me again."

That was all Anthony needed to you tell you again, and again and again, how much he loved you.

Rigel's note🪩: This has been in my drafts for so long<3

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

PART ONE

After accidentally causing Reader’s very first orgasm, Anthony does what any gentleman would do: he teaches her how to make it happen again, anytime she likes… ♥️

In keeping with Bridgerton’s vibe, Reader is a young woman with zero sexual knowledge or experience. I imagine she’s around nineteen or twenty years old and while she has had suitors, none of them have inspired in her the feelings Lord Bridgerton evokes…

Lord Anthony Bridgerton. Six days have passed since your carriage ride together, and instead of making peace with yourself over your embarrassing display in front of him, you now have even more questions than answers.

Firstly, what was that overwhelming rush of feelings you experienced in his carriage? And secondly, why had Lord Bridgerton reacted so calmly while watching you carry on as you did? And thirdly, had he never really intended to call on you, even though he said he would?

In truth, Anthony Bridgerton had been preoccupied with thoughts of you since delivering you home last week. He’d originally intended to call on you, but felt that approaching the subject of what he could obviously tell was your very first orgasm would be impossible while in the company of others. So, he’d conceived an admittedly unconventional plan to discuss the matter with you, in private…

Anthony knew you had questions, and as a gentleman, he didn’t want to leave you confused or even worse, feeling as if you’d somehow done something wrong. Anthony was well aware of the fact that for young ladies, sexual education was limited to none. With all the privileges of a male upbringing, Anthony had acquired plenty of sexual knowledge and experience without the attached shame and social stigma a woman would receive if expressing herself in such a manner…

The sun had gone down over Mayfair, a crisp Autumn evening settling in as its residents did the same. You’d retired to your room for the night, ready to sleep and hopefully dream of carriage rides with Anthony Bridgerton, and without embarrassment. Being so close to Anthony had felt exhilarating, at first, until that terrible-wonderful-beautiful-terrifying surge of energy had taken hold of you. If only you could repeat the events of that afternoon, the ones that involved Anthony’s recusing you, his chivalry, his act of kindness…his touching you…without the resulting fit that had seized hold of your body. A realization washed over you. Could what you experienced have somehow been caused by Lord Bridgerton? He had observed the extent of your outrageous display with complete ease. It was a bit irritating, in fact, that he seemed to understand exactly what was happening to you, while you remained completely overwhelmed and in the dark.

You gazed at the ceiling, frustrated tears burning your eyes. What would happen if Anthony told anyone of your frightful episode? You could only assume he had not spoken word of it to anyone, because surely Lady Whistledown would have mentioned it in her latest scandal sheet. Clearly, Anthony Bridgerton was an honorable man. You chided yourself for thinking anything less than a gentleman of him moments ago.

Suddenly, a shadow at your window caught your eye. Usually, birds didn’t perch on your windowsill this late in the day…and what else could have caused the shadow, besides a bird? You closed your eyes, preparing for sleep. A dull thudding sound came from the direction of your window, lurching your body forward in bed and forcing your eyes open wide.

Anthony Bridgerton was crouched outside your window. Surely, you must be dreaming. And what a scandalous dream to be having, you thought to yourself with a giggle. It was only when Anthony tapped his knuckles against the glass that you realized, much to your horror, that you were most definitely not dreaming.

He smiled and pointed to the latch on your side of the glass, making a turning motion with his hand. You left your bed for the window, quickly grabbing a robe to cover your nightgown, which did little to conceal the shape of your breasts.

You unlatched the window and lifted it only so far as to hear each other speak. “Lord Bridgerton!” you whispered harshly. “Are you mad??”

Anthony’s smile faded only slightly, his head tilted in thought. “Possibly,” he conceded. “But nevertheless, I had to speak with you.”

“And why now?” you asked. “At the most inappropriate time? In the most inappropriate way-??”

“-Because,” Anthony interrupted. “The nature of my intended conversation with you demands privacy.” He sighed, glancing down at the latch again. “Now, are you going to allow me inside?” Anthony asked. “Or would you prefer I catch my death of cold? Or perhaps-.” He peered over his shoulder at the ground below. “-Falling to my death would better suit your-.”

“-Oh for heaven’s sake!” you snapped, throwing open the window, to Anthony’s delight. “Hurry in before someone sees you…”

He swung his legs over the windowsill, nodding a polite “thank you,” while keeping his steps as quiet as possible. Your eyes swept over the yard, trying to make out the face of anyone who might have witnessed the Viscount Bridgerton of all men climbing through your bedroom window. Thankfully, the grounds looked bare; you sighed gratefully, content with remaining free of scandal. For now, at least.

You turned to find Anthony seated on your bed, a sight that nearly gave you a heart attack. He saw the horrified look on your face, and immediately stood up- “Forgive me,” he said. “I did not wish to offend you. I find it…” He paused. “…Difficult, to know where you and I stand…to judge the nature of our relationship, after-.” Anthony swallowed, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

“-After my frightful display in the carriage?” you offered, and he nodded.

“Yes,” Anthony replied. “Which, to be completely transparent, is exactly the reason I called on you tonight-privately,” he emphasized. “Because the nature of such a conversation is surely too sensitive as to be eavesdropped by others, do you not agree?”

Your eyebrows lifted, confusion written all over your face along with a blush of shame spreading over your cheeks. “People fall ill regularly, Lord Bridgerton,” you said, trying to calm the embarrassment making your voice tremble. “I fail to see how my…spell, though humiliating, as you seem eager to remind me, should warrant such a clandestine meeting as this...”

Anthony took a step closer; you flinched backward. “I do not wish to harm you,” he insisted. “Nor do I mean to imply wrongdoing of any kind on your part. If anything, it is I who acted thoughtlessly in not calling on you sooner, for not explaining that your-.” He smiled softly. “-Spell, or, falling ill as you call it, was not humiliating at all…”

You realized, for the first time in six days, that the feeling had returned. It stirred between your thighs like a dangerous, delicious secret. And while you couldn’t understand how, you were somehow sure that Anthony knew of your secret, too.

He took another step closer, and this time, you didn’t move backward. “Are you familiar with…” Anthony chose his words carefully. “…With the ways a woman’s body experiences pleasure?”

Your eyes widened; Anthony realized he may need to proceed with even more caution than he’d anticipated.

“When you…feel good,” he tried, watching your eyes for any sign of understanding. “That warmth you experience…inside your body…”

Anthony took another small step closer; you swallowed, feeling as if all the air had suddenly left the room. “…When you…touch yourself…”

He saw the lack of understanding in your eyes, and asked “you do touch yourself…don’t you?”

You shook your head, bewildered by Anthony’s lack of actual explaining. “Of course I touch myself, Lord Bridgerton,” you replied matter-of-factly; he seemed surprised by your blunt response. “I touch myself every day.”

“I’m glad to hear-.”

“-Everyone touches themselves every day-.”

He tipped his head in thought. “Well, it’s doubtful everyone-.”

“-In fact, I fail to see how that explains anything about my behavior last week, Lord Bridgerton,” you finished. Anthony looked slightly confused, and asked “when you touch yourself…do you not feel the way you felt in the carriage?”

You shook your head, embarrassment washing over you again. “No,” you replied. “I’ve never felt anything comparable to that while touching myself.”

Anthony considered his next question, and his reasons for asking it, carefully. “How do you touch yourself?” he asked, worrying immediately that he’d gone a step too far. Everything about this conversation was becoming more inappropriate by the second, but at least you seemed to have some experience in pleasuring yourself. It was a good start, Anthony reasoned.

You didn’t seem offended by his question in the slightest. “I touch myself each time I pull on my gloves, for example,” you explained, still not at all sure how this was relevant. “I brush my hair, which means I must touch myself to do so…” You continued to describe absolutely innocent everyday examples of ways in which you touched yourself, none of them pertaining to masturbation, as Anthony soon became aware.

He held up a hand to stop you, a gentle yet frustrated smile on his face. “While all of the examples you’ve given do indeed describe touching oneself,” Anthony replied, his smile fading. “They do not describe the manner of touching that would arouse feelings like the ones you experienced during your…spell, in my carriage.”

You stared at him blankly, completely confused. “How else would one touch themselves, my lord?” you asked. Anthony’s chest dipped as he exhaled, deeply. He hadn’t stopped thinking of the sounds you made in his carriage the week prior…of how you looked seized with pleasure, your pretty features contorted in ecstasy…the way your scent had remained in his carriage, how he’d used it to get himself off on the way back from your home…

Anthony knew he was treading on very dangerous ground. But despite his better judgement, he found the words he should not say passing through his lips, and his fingers drawing closer to touch your cheek: “Perhaps I might teach you, then?”

Your skin warmed beneath Anthony’s touch, his fingertip tracing your cheek and resting on your lips. It was all too much, the racing of your heart, the intensity of his gaze holding yours like no man had before. The beautiful ache between your legs was now pulsing, throbbing in time with your heartbeat.

“May I teach you?” Anthony asked again, softly. His thumb stroked the curve of your chin; your legs felt weak, unable to hold you. “Yes…yes,” you replied, every inch of you trembling. “Please…”

Anthony’s lips curved in a slight grin, but his behavior retained the calm sensibility of an instructor preparing to teach. He guided you toward your bed, gently imploring you to “lie back.” You followed Anthony’s direction, taking his hand as it was offered. His lips parted when your robe slipped off your shoulders, revealing the curve of your breasts, your peaked nipples lifting the fabric. You moved to cover yourself, but Anthony stopped you. “Do not be embarrassed,” he murmured, his voice low, sincere. “Your body is beautiful, (Y/N). It should not be a source of shame…not here. Not now.”

Anthony brought your hand to his lips, pressing your index finger to them in a pretend ‘shh.’ “No secrets,” he whispered. You whimpered softly, unconsciously pressing your thighs together, attempting to soothe the tension between them. Anthony noticed your discomfort…every part of him noticed. His cock twitched at the sound of your arousal, at the way your scent lifted through the thin fabric of your gown and straight to his nose. He watched your body tense as you tried to fend off the inevitable; you were going to come. And Anthony was going to watch it happen, again.

He loosened the cravat at his neck, the heat in the room increasing by the minute. He led your hand over your breasts, watching you gasp as your nipples perked to meet your palm. “That’s a good girl,” Anthony praised, his voice slightly strained. “Do you see the way your body responds?” He exhaled slowly, his cock pressing uncomfortably against the restraint of his trousers. “Now,” Anthony continued. “Bring your hand lower, like so…”

He guided your touch downward, dusting along your belly. You watched with widening eyes as your fingers moved closer to the space that throbbed more intensely with every breath you took. Anthony swallowed, feeling his resolve weaken. He had to keep himself under control; you were fragile, completely unaware of just how vulnerable a position you truly were in. A less honorable man than he would likely take advantage of an innocent young woman in such a state, having given him her full trust, legs spread and waiting for his command. Anthony clenched his jaw and resolved to continue your lesson, his desires forced into check.

He paused your hand just above the tender space you’d never touched, that no one had touched before. A space that in some ways belonged to Anthony already, as only he seemed able to arouse these desires in you from the start. How fitting, then, that he should be the one to guide your hand in exploring yourself, to the place that swelled and wept only for him…

Anthony’s erection was becoming distracting. He wondered if you’d notice, and ask about it. Thankfully, you seemed too consumed by the sensations affecting your own body to notice anything around you, for which Anthony was grateful. If you did ask to see it…looking all wide-eyed and innocent at his cock…asking why it stood like that, why he looked so intense-did it hurt…? What is it for…? Can you show me, my lord…? Anthony knew he’d crumble like a pastry and end up doing god only knows what…

He pressed his wrist against it, a subtle attempt at soothing away some of the pain denying himself was causing. Instinctively, you’d pulled your hand (and Anthony’s covering it) further between your legs, till your touch was hovering just above your clit. Anthony’s eyes were hooded, his lips parted and dry as he watched you. “Touch yourself, (Y/N),” he murmured, his voice husky, wavering. “Allow your body to tell you what she needs…”

Anthony gently lowered both his hand and yours, his fingertips fanning over your clit. You drew in a sharp breath, your hips bucking, the muscles in your stomach tensing as you lurched forward. “Shh…shh,” Anthony comforted you. “It almost hurts, does it not? A feeling so intense, it frightens you…like bringing your fingers too close to a flame…”

He lightly circled his fingertips over your clit again, pulling a helpless whine from your throat. Anthony’s cock twitched against his wrist, begging for relief. Sweat beaded along his hairline, his brow tense with concentration as he forced himself to maintain control.

“Focus,” he said, both to himself and you. “Lean into the feeling, frightening though it is…” Anthony used your hand to massage yourself. Your heels dug into the bed in response. “Let go of all the tension you carry,” Anthony whispered, his hand working over you. “Give in to the feeling….give in to...”

Anthony’s words failed as all his senses were consumed by the image, the scent, the sound, of you coming undone beneath his hand. You whimpered and wept, soft sobs of pleasure that spilled from your lips as your body convulsed. Your feet kicked wildly, making a mess of the bedding, sheets tossed this way and that as you flailed. In your beautiful struggle, your nightgown was thrown above your knees, putting your pretty, pouty lips on full display for Anthony. The scent of you was abundant, no longer inhibited by the cover of your gown. Anthony abandoned his pretense of modesty, aggressively rubbing the outline of his cock through his trousers while his other hand continued clutching yours.

He pulled away suddenly, a labored groan roaring up from his chest. You were just beginning to come down, your mind awash with the fuzzy, delirious bliss of orgasm. Anthony climaxed beside you, grunting through his release, filling the front of his trousers with semen. He turned to find you lying with your arms outstretched, your chest rising and falling and glistening with sweat. Your legs were still spread wide, your embarrassment long-abandoned, a big, satisfied smile lighting your eyes. Your smile faded just slightly when you noticed the look of exhaustion on Anthony’s face.

“My lord?” you said, concerned. “Are you alright?”

Anthony chuckled, nodding his assurance that he was well. “I assure you,” he replied, kneeling to sit at your bedside. “I am more than alright…”

He took your hand in his once again, feeling the slickness of your arousal on your fingertips.

“Did you…” you began, unsure how to ask. “…Did you do what I did, just now?”

Anthony’s brow lifted, his smile widening. “In fact, I did,” he said, to which you replied, in happy surprise, “I did not know that men could do it, also!”

Anthony threw his head back laughing, before quickly admonishing himself for making too much noise. He leaned closer and gave your forehead a chaste kiss, before making his way to your window.

“My lord?” you whispered. Anthony paused at the windowsill.

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“If there’s anything else you might wish to teach me,” you said. “You’ll find my window open, from now on.” A mischievous grin turned the corners of your lips. “Remember that, will you?”

Anthony smiled, his mind already teeming with a thousand filthy things he wanted to show you. “I will remember,” he said, and exited through your window. ♥️

[rubysunnday]

as white as snow

summary: Y/N runs into Anthony Bridgerton, someone she's known of for years, but never gotten close to, at the winter solistice ball. Through a dramatic turn of events, the two are forced to acknowledge one another and their feelings.

The winter season had always been a dark, cold and occasionally lonely one. Many families of the ton left London for their country estates, choosing to spend the winter time in sprawling fields.

But there was one event that many families travelled to the outskirts of London for. the Countess of Derby's solstice ball.

It was the biggest event of the winter period. Invites were a coveted prize. Which was why Miss Y/N Hughes was currently staring, open mouthed, at the green envelope in her hand, her name elegantly scrawled on the front in gold.

'Y/N, close your mouth, we are not a codfish," her mother, Lady Hughes, snapped, setting her teacup down on the saucer with a clink.

Y/N hurried over to her mother and held the envelope out in front of her. Her mother cast an uninterested gaze over to her hand. There was a second before the envelope registered in her mind and, when it did, her mother let out an undignified shriek, snatching it from Y/N's hands.

"Robert! ROBERT!" Her mother yelled, barging past Y/N and hurrying into the morning room where her father sat, reading the newspaper.

Y/N stood to the side, trying not to show her amusement at her mother's reaction to the invite.

"We must go to the modiste right away," Lady Hughes said, rushing back into the room, their housekeeper trailing behind. "We need new dresses suitable for this event. Y/N, come along, we need to get you a new dress, dear."

"Is this," Y/N inhaled sharply, "corset meant to be this tight?"

"Of course, miss," the modiste said, pulling the laces even tighter. "It's meant to accentuate the waist and boobs."

"I think it's meant to be comfortable," Y/N muttered, wincing as the boning began to poke into the side of her boob. "And allow me to breathe."

Her mother had insisted the modiste was to dress them the night of the ball - making sure their new dresses looked the best. No expense had been spared, as was always the way, and Y/N's new gown was covered in gems and beads.

It hung on a hanger, on the edge of her door, sparkling and glittering in the candlelight. The modiste trotted over to the door, lifting the hook of the hanger off the wood.

Y/N put her hands on her waist, wincing as she tried to take a full breath in, the tight corset restricting the action.

"Would it be possible to loosen this corset a bit?" Y/N asked, looking over at the modiste.

"No, we would ruin the silhouette of the dress otherwise," the modiste said, shaking her head. She turned to the dress. "Now, let's put this on."

Their carriage rolled to an abrupt stop. Y/N tried not to lurch forward, gripping the carriage door tightly to stop herself from falling into her mother's lap.

"Remember, best behaviour," Lady Hughes warned, poking a few pins further into her hair. "We want to make an impression. And you, dearest," she looked at Y/N, "are running out of time to make a match."

"Oh, mama -"

"No, I won't hear it. You've been out in society for almost two years. Unless I see something happen tonight, your father and I will be arranging a match for you."

Y/N's eyes widened. "What? Mama!"

"Silence, Y/N." Her mother leant forward, pushing in to her space. "We will discuss this more later."

The carriage door opened and her father jumped out, extending his hand out to her mother, guiding her down the stairs. Y/N took a moment, pulling back the blanket that covered her legs, and then slid across the seats to the door. She lifted her dress up and put a slippered foot onto the first step, placing her hand in the footman's.

The Countess of Derby's mansion was a magnificently beautiful building. There were fifty-five acres of immaculately maintained gardens and the house itself was set in over two thousand acres of land.

It was a beautiful example of architecture. Each brick had been placed with care, flowers curling around the columns and windows.

Y/N pulled her velvet cloak tighter around her shoulders as she began to walk up the steps. A freezing gust of wind whipped at her skin, raising the hairs on her arms. Braziers and torches lined the stone steps leading up to the front door. Footmen stood at intervals, ready to assist if anyone needed it.

"Miss Hughes!"

Y/N turned, looking back down the path. Another coach had pulled up and its inhabitants were clambering out in a gaggle of laughs and complaints.

"Lord Bridgerton!' Y/N exclaimed, a smile overtaking her face. She walked back down the steps, holding her dress hem up off the floor. "This is a surprise!"

Anthony Bridgerton took the steps two at a time, meeting Y/N half way. He took her gloved hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, all whilst looking directly at her.

Y/N suddenly found it hard to breathe. His gaze was intense and his hand warm against her cold skin.

She'd known Anthony for a few years now. It'd been a chance meeting at the opening of a new art exhibition that he'd brought them together. Both of them had been drawn to the same painting for the same reasons and, suddenly, Y/N had a new friendship.

A friendship she yearned to evolve into something more.

"Brother? You're blocking the path."

Anthony stood up, rolling his eyes as he did so. He stepped to the side and his younger brother, Colin, stepped up.

"Hello, Miss Hughes," Colin said, winking at her. "You look lovely."

"As do you, Mr Bridgerton," Y/N said, smiling back at him.

Benedict followed behind Colin. "Miss Hughes," he said, nodding at her, a smile on his face. As he passed, he squeezed her arm in greeting.

"Mr Bridgerton," Y/N replied.

Daphne and Eloise followed behind their brothers, the former practically dragging the latter with her.

"Duchess," Y/N said, curtseying. "Miss Bridgerton." Y/N leant in to Anthony. "Good lord, there are a lot of you."

Anthony sighed heavily. "Imagine the carriage ride."

Y/N greeted Lady Bridgerton as she walked past, smiling warmly at her. "Shall we head inside, Lord Bridgerton?"

Anthony held out his arm and Y/N placed her gloved hand in the crook of his elbow. "We shall, Miss Hughes."

As soon as they stepped inside the foyer, Y/N's breath was taken away. Fir trees covered in candles and decorations sat in each corner, lining the expansive space. Each one guided them towards the main ballroom where even more fir trees were stood. Dancers waltzed around the room, reds, greens, golds and whites blending together.

"Is this your first solstice ball?" Anthony asked, his voice quiet.

His breath danced across her skin and Y/N felt her arms tingle with goosebumps.

"Yes," she whispered, her eyes trying to take in every detail in front of her. "It's... magical."

"Here, let me take your cloak," Anthony said, releasing her arm and coming around to stand in front of her. His fingers effortlessly undid the bow at her chest. His knuckles brushed across her skin, his signet ring cold to her warmth.

Y/N breathed in deeply and then regretted it as her corset almost tightened around her torso. She hid her stuttered breath until Anthony turned away, handing her cloak and his cape to the attendant by the door.

"Would you like to -"

"Miss Hughes?"

Y/N mentally swore. She turned her head and forced herself to smile at the older man standing in front of her, looking expectantly at her.

"Captain Sanders. I'm an old friend of your father's," he explained. "Your mother said I could ask you for a dance."

Y/N felt her lungs constrict. "Oh. Yes, of course, Captain."

She reluctantly held out her hand to the man. As he led her way, her other hand brushed against Anthony's her fingers locking with his for a split second as she tried to cling on.

Anthony watched her disappear into the crowd. His hand clenched into a tight fist and he then flexed it, trying to ignore the jealously and pain going through him.

It'd taken him far too long to realise Y/N was who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He'd know she was running out of time and now, when he was about to begin trying to court her, she was being pulled from his grasp.

"Please tell me you did not just let Captain Sanders whisk Y/N away," Benedict said, coming to stand next to his older brother.

"He didn't give me much choice," Anthony grumbled. "Apparently her mother sent him over."

"Ah, Lady Hughes - she's on par with Lady Featherington."

"What do I do?"

"Are you actually asking me for advice?" Benedict asked, gaping at his brother.

Anthony shoved his shoulder. "Yes." Anthony sighed. "You know why."

Benedict did. He'd seen how his brother looked at Y/N, how he spoke to her, acted around her. She made him a better person by simply existing in his life. Anthony had never smiled as much as he did when Y/N was around.

"Ask her to dance," Benedict said with a shrug. "Then, take her for a stroll round the room and tell her. Her mother is clearly plotting. You know your time is limited."

"I know," Anthony whispered, his gaze fixed on Y/N as she danced around the room. Her gaze fixed on his for a moment and he felt his heart ache.

Y/N, too, felt her heart ache. Felt the pain of being so close to the man she wanted. Yet so far away.

Captain Sanders walked her back to her mother after their dance ended. Y/N could feel her dress clinging to her skin, the corset restricting her every movement and every breath. She knew it was far too tight - it should not be this painful to simply breathe.

"Captain Sanders, I do hope you'll call on us tomorrow," Lady Hughes said, smiling at the man. "I'm sure Y/N will be delighted to see you again."

Y/N just nodded.

"Now," her mother said, as soon as they were alone," your father and I have decided that come spring, you and Captain Sanders shall be wed."

Her heart stopped. A high pitched whine took over her hearing, drowning the ballroom noise out. Y/N put a hand on her stomach, trying to maintain her composure.

"Mama -"

"No discussion, Y/N," her mother said, the warning clear in her tone. "You've had two years. Time is up."

Her mother flounced away, leaving Y/N behind. She stood there, stunned. Her breathing had quickened, her chest frantically rising and falling.

A cloak fell around her shoulders and Y/N jumped slightly, her head shooting up to see who had appeared behind her.

Anthony, his dark eyes full of concern, looked at her. "Shall we go outside?"

Y/N nodded, numb to everything around her. She didn't even realise when Anthony took her hand in hers, gently tugging her out onto the veranda.

The cold, winters air hit her instantly. It did nothing to calm her racing heart, to ease the tightness of her lungs as they stuggled to keep up with her panic. Her corset was impossibly tight, her vision was begin to spin.

"I am to be wed," Y/N whispered, walking aimlessly down the steps of the veranda and out into the hedged gardens.

Anthony followed at her side, his hand still holding hers. "I overheard."

"Captain Sanders is the same age as my father," she said softly.

"I know."

Y/N stopped abruptly, the reality of her situation hitting her. It stole what little breath she had left and the gardens began to spin in her vision. Everything became harder to focus on - as if she was being spun around and around and around.

"Y/N?" Anthony said, his tone urgent. He squeezed her hand, trying to get her attention. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

Y/N's breath was laboured, her chest rising and falling far faster than it should've been. She gripped Anthony's hand tightly, her nails digging into his skin.

"Corset," she gasped out, arching over, trying to breathe. "I can't breathe."

Her knees buckled, she could feel herself falling, she gripped onto Anthony's arms as he fell down with her. Her head hit the gravel path and the blackness overwhelmed her.

Anthony knelt beside her, his hand holding hers. His heart was pounding. "Y/N?" He gently shook her. Her head lolled to the side. Her chest wasn't moving and when he hovered his hand under her nose, no breath hit his hand.

He was trying to stay calm, to focus. But his heart was controlling him. Anthony shook her again and then, abruptly, harshly, remembered what she'd whispered.

Anthony pulled her limp body up and rested it against his chest. His fingers ran down her back, struggling to undo the buttons of her dress. One snapped off as he tried to undo and, in a moment of frustration, he ripped the buttons open.

He could see the red lines where her corset had pressed against her skin, even through the chemise underneath it. It didn't take him long to realise the corset was far too tight.

He'd seen countless corsets over the years and knew how they were meant to be done up and tied. This one was too tight, to constricting. No wonder she'd collapsed.

Anthony deftly undid the laces, pulling on them until the material of the corset came loose from Y/N's body. He laid her back down on the ground, making sure the ribbons of her cloak weren't tight around her throat.

He waited for a moment but she still wasn't breathing. Anthony shook himself and snapped back into action. He tilted Y/N's head back and gently opened her mouth. He leant over her and pressed his lips to hers, breathing into her mouth until he had no air left.

Anthony took a deep breath in and then pressed his mouth to hers again, blowing all the air he head into her.

"Come on, Y/N, please," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

There was a horrible moment where Anthony thought nothing had happened. That it hadn't worked. That, all the tales his tenants told him of men coming back to life after someone breathe for them, were false.

But then, Y/N started to cough, her hands flying up and gripping his arms tightly.

"It's okay, I've got you," Anthony whispered, pulling her up and into him, letting her lean against his chest. "I've got you, Y/N. I've got you."

Y/N slumped against him, closing her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. She let her hand trail down his arm until it reached his hand. Y/N threaded her fingers through his and squeezed tightly.

"You saved my life," Y/N whispered.

"You scared the hell out of me," Anthony whispered back. He leant his chin on the top of her head. "Why was your corset so tight?"

"Modiste insisted on it,"" Y/N replied, her words coming out a little clearer as her breath came back. "She kept pulling tighter and tighter."

"Ssh," Anthony whispered, sensing her panic brewing. "It's okay."

"It's not though," Y/N said softly. "Nothing's okay, Anthony. I'm to marry a man I barely know. I have no control over anything anymore."

They sat there, on the cold gravel path, clutching on to one another. Anthony pressed a kiss to the top of Y/N's head and she closed her eyes tightly, resting her head on his arm.

Snow began to fall around them. It danced gently down, light enough that it wasn't going to settle, but enough to tell that it was snowing.

Anthony helped Y/N to her feet. He turned her around and carefully did her corset back up, making sure the laces were comfortably tight. He then did the back of her dress back up the best he could, swearing every time he fumbled with a button.

Every time he did, Y/N laughed softly, her shoulders shaking.

Anthony turned Y/N back around to face her. He pulled the hood of her cloak up, letting his fingers trace the line of her jaw as he pulled away.

"You still have control," Anthony said quietly. "You can still chose."

"How?" Y/N asked, her voice almost lost to the dark night. "How can I chose?"

Anthony raised his hand, brushing his knuckles along her cheek. He held her chin in his hand. "Chose me."

He saw the surprise in her eyes. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, he could see it.

"Anthony, you..."

"Have changed," Anthony said, cutting her off. "I apologise for making you wait so long, Y/N, darling. But I know, now, that it is you I want to spend the rest of my life with. No matter how long or short it is, I know the time we spend together will be worth the grief and pain that may come later."

Y/N looked at him. "Do you truly mean it?"

"Every word. With all my heart."

The snow began to fall faster, the flake getting bigger. Y/N smiled at him, her eyes lighting up for the first time all evening.

"You can kiss me again, Lord Bridgerton," Y/N whispered. "I'll be conscious this time, I promise. I'll remember this time."

Anthony chuckled. "You'd better, Miss Hughes."

Anthony leant forward and pressed his lips to hers. There was a moment of quiet bliss before the urgency, the desperation, the desire took them over.

They walked backwards, disappearing behind the hedges and into a smaller, secluded garden. Anthony pushed Y/N until the back of her legs hit a stone bench. He guided her backwards until she was lying down on the bench.

Y/N pulled away, pushing Anthony back slightly. She smiled up at him, her skin hot.

"Lord Bridgerton, are you so desperate to make me yours?" She asked, dragging her hand down his hair and then onto his neck. Anthony groaned softly, leaning his head back into touch. His hand brushed down her thigh, the sensation reaching her even through her dress. He reached under her dress and Y/N arched up into him as his fingers danced up her leg, to her inner thigh, pulling the chemise up and up and -

"I don't think I could wait a moment more," Anthony whispered, pausing. "As long as you -"

"Yes," Y/N replied, pulling him down onto her and pressing her lips to his again. "Just.. yes," she whispered against his lips.

Anthony's hand resumed it's dance, delving higher and then disappearing inside her. Y/N felt a noise she'd never made before escape her lips and she arched up into him, her hand gripping the back of his neck tightly.

"Our absence will be noticed soon," Y/N said, her words disappearing into a moan. Her nails dug into his neck as he pushed her dress up higher, his fingers dancing around before going deeper inside her.

Anthony smiled, his breath hot against her skin as he whispered, "Don't worry. I'll be quick."

[regencyrosalie]

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

heres a lil blurb for you <3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you up to?” she countered.

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

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

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

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

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

“Anthony,” she warned.

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

“You have some of my-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, how noble, my dear.”

[crazyk-imagine]

There’s a Heat Between Us, You Must Admit

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Plus size!rader

Characters: Plus size!reader, Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Violet Bridgerton, Mildred “Millie” Nightington (reader’s cousin), Bernard (the servant), Eloise Bridgerton, Francesca Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton, Hyacinth Bridgerton, Simon Bassett, Augie Bassett

Warnings: Anthony is an idiot, the bee scene (mainly from the book scene), drama, Daphne doesn’t want to see her friend end up alone, reader gives Anthony the biggest side eye ever, reader and Anthony are idiots, Millie is a sweetheart, reader and Anthony are competitive, the sideburns line was something I learned about, reader is stubborn, Anthony is oddly very emotional in this, reader knows a lot of things, reader doesn’t know how to deal with her emotions, pregnancy scare, the pregnancy scare reminds me of a sitcom

Word Count: 13,647

A/N: Reader’s last name is Starlington and also, super excited to have finally finished this one. 

*1,700 follower celebration post*

Also, Happy Valentine’s day!!

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Sometimes you loved your dear friend Daphne and other times you didn't, right now for example, you don't. 

Honestly you don’t know how this got brought up (again) but you’d wish she would stop; it’s not going to happen even if she wants you to officially join her family. 

You knew her being the first to marry out of the two of you was going to lead to more of her shenanigans, but this was too much for you. 

You sigh, setting your cup down to look her in the eyes, “I have no plans on being in this season.” 

Her shoulder sagged, “I understand that but-” 

“But, nothing. Daphne, I am more than content with my being staying very much untied to a man. If I happen to meet someone worth it, you’ll know.” 

-

Anthony glances over in your direction and his mind goes elsewhere. 

You’re his sister’s best friend who also became Benedict’s best friend soon after you met the rest of his family. 

He isn’t particularly upset at the fact that you’ve managed to befriend his siblings (slightly better than he could) but, there’s something that keeps bringing a certain idea to the front of his mind. 

“Are you going to take your turn or continue staring?” Benedict asks. 

The eldest shrugs off his brother’s comment. 

Anthony uses the dreaded “death mallet” and once again, manages to pass the others. 

-

Daphne heads towards her siblings before they can scream and shout at her for sitting down instead of taking her turn. 

You sigh, shoulders sagging because you know she means no harm; you know that but, you can’t force yourself to love and care for someone you don’t have feelings for. 

You’d never admit it (out loud or to her) but there are nights where you do wonder how it would be if you did get married to someone you loved. 

The concerning part is how her brother sneaks into your mind; not your closest friend, Benedict, or the third oldest, Colin, and of course not, Gregory. 

No, Anthony is the one to invade your mind and corrupt your dreams with his charming smile and smooth movements. 

And you would never dare tell Daphne or your cousin of your thoughts; no matter how hard she tries to convince you he feels something for you. 

You take a deep breath, returning your focus onto the game only to meet a pair of oak brown eyes gazing upon you. 

You tear your gaze away at the sounds of Violet walking down the stairs, carrying a smiling Augie in her arms earning a smile from you as you observe the happy baby. 

You glance towards her and offer a polite smile, giving her a moment to settle down in the free chair before turning to focus on the young babe. “Hello, Augie,” you greet him with a baby tone and shake his chubby fingers. 

“He’s always taken with you,” Violet comments. 

“I am the one who always manages to search for his mother when he cries for her. Sometimes I believe myself to be a dog.” 

She chuckles, “that’s not it.” 

“Why else would he like me?” 

“You have a natural instinct that he senses. Children know these things.” 

“If that’s what you say.” 

Daphne steps away from the others, wanting to see her child. “She is right, you know.” 

“Not you too,” you groan. 

“You will make a fantastic mother.” 

“Someday.” 

“It could happen sooner than one would think.”

“What are you planning?” 

“Nothing.” 

Anthony stares back at you once more, observing the way you interact with his dear nephew. As he searches for someone to call wife, his most secretive thoughts keep coming to mind. The more he searches and the longer you stay, the more he finds himself wondering. 

His mother continues to help him in his search for a wife albeit reluctantly since she finds herself so fond of you. She’d never explicitly tell him to pursue you but, she could always kindly ease him into the right direction, which is when his disbelief comes to the surface, truly believing you to feel nothing for him. 

He knows if he tried to pursue you and it fell through, he will have ruined a lifelong friendship for his family- as he watches Daphne hold her purple mallet for you to take- he realizes he can’t pursue you. 

Not that he’d ever given it any real thought, but he’d never be able to forgive himself if he was the reason, you stopped coming by. 

You shake your head. 

She puts it in your hand, persuading you into taking her place so she can attend to Augie. 

You step down from the seating area with little energy. 

His sister offers encouraging nods. 

“I see you finally came to join us,” comments Anthony. 

You avoid his gaze- you can barely stand beside him. “Not like I wanted to,” you reply. 

“You’re scared to lose?” 

You scoff, turning to look up at him, “that is not what I said.” 

He smirks, leaning closer to you, “you didn’t have to.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, “we’ll see who’s laughing when I win.” You walk away, taking your turn. You’re satisfied until you sense him behind you. 

He follows you, “for someone who didn’t want to play earlier, you’ve certainly found your spirit.” 

“Or was it a trick?” You smirk, glancing at him when the ball rolls through the metal hoop with ease. “You look nice,” you comment, turning around to walk away. 

Anthony’s brows furrow together, his body takes over as he steps closer to you, standing beside you. “What do you mean?” 

You turn, struggling to find the right words without sending the wrong message. “I only meant you look nice. You know, people- people can actually see your face now.” 

He continues to stare at you. 

“Your sideburns were nice but it- they- people may have assumed you grew them to hide what lies in your heart.”

“And what do you think lies there?” The words escape him before he could process his thoughts. 

“I believe the love for your family and future wife is there, along with the care and compassion you hold for them. I do have to admit, I am a bit glad you shaved.” 

He tilts his head, “and why is that?” 

“I was afraid you would have continued growing them and at some point, they would connect,” you use both hands the gesture from your sideburns to your upper lip, “and you would look as though you were wearing a mask of sorts,” you say with one hundred percent seriousness until you think about it and snicker, covering your face with your hand. 

Anthony is also unable to keep himself collected and joins in. He straightens his posture, “what of you?” 

You take a deep breath, fanning yourself. "What of me, for what?” 

“What do you think lies in your heart?” 

“The same as you, I suppose. Love and compassion for my family and the few friends I have.” 

“What about me?” He asks before he can stop himself. 

“What?” You don’t know what to think. 

“I-” He walks past you, placing his mallet back into place before exiting, wandering to the garden. He needs to get as far away from you as he can in order to clear his mind. 

You don’t understand what’s happened and place your mallet beside his before chasing after him. 

-

He stares at you, half listening to you and his attention moves elsewhere. 

“Are you even listening to me?” You stare at him, wanting to understand him. You’re too into your thoughts to hear the faint buzz. 

The noise sends a shiver down his spine, he knows the noise too well; his nightmares (if he can remember any) always start with the faint buzz. 

He doesn’t move as he searches for it. Sadly, for the eldest child, he doesn’t have to search for long as the small, striped animal floats around you. He prays to whoever is listening to hear his silent prayers for it doesn’t sting you; he can’t lose someone else to the blasted creature. 

“Anthony?” You ask, glancing down when you feel something land on you. You realize why he can’t look away. “Hey, it’s alright.” 

He can’t focus on your words, his mind rattled with the memory of his late father. “Don’t move,” his voice is low and shaky.

“I know, it’s a bee but, it won’t hurt me as long as I-” you close your eyes due to the discomfort you get from the sting, and it sends him into a whirlwind. “I’ll be alright,” you say, still trying to reassure him. You open your eyes to see how pale he’s gotten. 

He invades your personal space, grasping onto your arms. “Are- are you-” He glances back and forth between your face and your wound. His voice is low, far too low for you to understand what it is he is trying to say but you swear you hear him mutter something along the lines of, “don’t move'' repeatedly. 

You know you must calm him down before he can do anything. You reach for him, placing a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you. “Breathe, Anthony. I need you to breathe.” 

He can’t say anything, almost as if he’s choking on air. Images of his father invade his mind, filling him with worry and dread. 

You can see he is close to tears. Your voice draws him out of his thoughts. “I promise you. I hope you know I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m fine but I will still have a doctor come and look at it so that it may heal properly. I’m right here. I’m here with you.” 

Anthony’s hands grip your biceps, he notices how swollen the sting site has become. 

“It stung me, but I am not hurting. This has happened before. I will be fine.” 

None of your reassurances are having any effect on him. 

The image of his father taking his last breath in his mother’s arm is enough to make lean in to suck the venom out. 

“Anthony?! What are you-” You cut yourself off at the feeling of his shaky hands trying to remove the stinger. “Anthony, you must stop.” 

“Shut up,” he hisses, trying to stay focused on keeping you healthy (and alive) while fighting to keep his father’s death out of his mind. 

You take deep breaths, you try to push him away, but he is insistent and stronger than you. “I am fine, I just need to see a doctor and I-” 

“Would you be quiet,” he finally lifts his head to look up at you. 

You gulp, “I know- I know what tragedy has happened in your family but, today will not be the same for me.” 

He doesn’t listen and continues to squeeze the area. 

You gasp, eyes widening at the feeling of his hands being so close to your breast. This has gone too far; you must stop this before someone sees. “Anthony,” you place your hands on his chest to push him away once more. 

“Stop it,” he shoves your arms off him. “Let me get rid of the venom.” 

“There is a doctor who can do this and-” 

“The doctor is not here. I am.” He stops squeezing when some liquid begins to spill out of the wound. 

You look down, finding the trail of liquid, “see, you did it. Now, I am going inside to-” 

Anthony pulls out a handkerchief, wiping away the trail. “It’s not all of it.” 

You wrap your hand around his wrist, stopping him from patting you dry. “You must stop this, Anthony. If anything were to have happened, it would have happened already.”

“There is still more,” he mutters, staring at the irritated area. 

“You need to stop.” 

“I haven’t gotten all of it,” he turns, staring at you. 

“Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing. Don’t.” 

“I have to get the venom out before it kills you.” 

“It won’t kill me-” you gasp, seeing the determination in him as he leans forward. You place your hand on his shoulder, keeping his head away but fail to remove his hand. 

The click clack of women’s shoes against the rock pathway alerts you, but you feel as though you can’t move. 

A gasp makes you turn to find his mother alongside your cousin, Mildred (Millie for short), staring at the two of you with shocked expressions. 

Your heart rate increases and gain enough strength to fully shove him away from you, knowing how this looks. 

He glances up at you with a confused expression. 

“Anthony?” Violet calls out. 

His brows furrow further, he looks over your shoulder, “mother?” 

“What is going here?” 

“She was stung by a- a bee.” 

“A bee?” 

“Yes, a bee. I’d told him repeatedly I was fine. I’ve dealt with being stung before,” you say, struggling to keep yourself together. 

“You were stung by a bee and the boy found himself attached to you?” Mildred raises a brow. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Millie.” 

“I’m not, I’m wondering how you think this can be kept quiet.” 

“Kept quiet?” You repeat quietly to yourself. 

“Neither of us would repeat a word of what occurred today,” he argues. 

“That doesn’t mean anything for a woman’s reputation,” Mildred says with an attitude. 

“You do realize anyone could walk out here and spot the two of you, don’t you?” 

He doesn’t say anything. 

“Don’t you?” 

He grits his teeth, “I do.” 

“You should consider yourself lucky that it was us who found you and no one else, rake.” 

“That’s enough now, Mildred,” Violet intervenes. “Let’s,” she takes a deep breath, “let’s go inside and talk about this further. Lady Starlington needs to be seen by a doctor.” 

You can’t stand to be there any longer and turn away from him, walking past the two ladies and Anthony; your pace speeds up before you know it, you’re sprinting back to Audrey Hall. 

Mildred sighs, “now what are we to do?”

“We will all walk back and discuss this,” Violet says. 

“Of course, we are but, what am I to tell my parents? They’ll be curious to know why their niece’s name is in a Lady Whistledown column.” 

Anthony grunts, taking a step towards the two. He passes by them and quickly announces, “we will marry before the end of the season.” 

“Did he say what I think he did?” asks Mildred, watching his figure walk away with wide eyes. 

Violet sighs, shaking her head, “I believe he did.” 

“Did I do the right thing?” 

The mother of the family stops, turning to face your cousin, “what do you mean?” 

“I- I basically pushed themselves together into this potentially unhappy marriage. I know I sometimes I can’t keep my comments to myself but, I swear I had good intentions. It's just- when we came around the corner to see that I- I worry about her. I fear I may have ruined my relationship with the two.” 

“I can’t give you an exact answer but, I can say that as long as you have your cousin’s interest and happiness in mind, the most you can do is hope for the best. They are both emotionally driven people, even if neither wishes to admit it. This will be hard for them, and it may be a test.” 

“A test?”

“To see if they will make good of their marriage. You and I, as well as my other children, have come to realize how they connect with one another. They can’t see it for themselves but there is something there and now is the time for them to see it.” 

“I suppose so. What if they can’t make it work?” 

“Then I fear they will be in a miserable marriage.” 

-

No one else disturbed you after the doctor left. 

You sit at the edge of the bed, your vision blurs; you cover your mouth with shaky hands. You don’t want others to hear if they happen to be walking by. You cry, struggling to catch your breath. 

Everything you’ve been feeling with the last few days is slowly escaping you. Your mother is requesting to visit and marriage situation with Anthony; it’s too much. 

You take deep breaths, aiming to calm yourself down. 

Maybe it would be better if you left and went home or maybe somewhere far from here.

A knock disturbs you from your thoughts. 

You wipe your cheeks, hoping whoever it is will go away but fail as another knock comes through. You take a deep breath and open the door, “Viscount Bridgerton?” 

He lifts his gaze off the floor, “what happened to Anthony?” 

Any curiosity falls from your expression, “your making light of the situation?” 

He shakes his head, “I would never.” 

“I think you’ve done enough today. It’s almost time for bed.” 

He takes a step closer to the door, his hand inches away from being crushed, “I,” he sighs, taking a step back, removing his hand from the door. “I have come to ask if you would have dinner with me.” 

“With you?” 

“I think it would be wise if we talked before anything becomes… official.” 

“Now?” 

“Are you going to use full sentences any time soon?” 

“Why should I? Is it bothering you?” 

“Nevermind that. Are you going to join me or not?” 

“Will there be someone else there?” 

He gives you a reluctant nod, “yes, your dearest cousin, Mildred.” 

“I’ll be down in a moment. I will meet you there.”

“I’ll wait here.” 

“Do you have to?”

“No but, I think it might be good practice for us.” 

“Practice,” you mumble and shut the door. You walk over to the vanity, staring at yourself, wondering how you got into this situation. You snatch the extra handkerchief and pat your face, removing any evidence of your despair. 

You take careful steps toward the door and exit, Anthony leaning against the wall across from your room. He holds his arm out for you to hold. 

You shake your head. 

“Don’t you think you’ve touched her enough today?” 

He sighs, “Mildred.” 

“Who else would it be?” She interlocks your arms together, pulling you ahead of the eldest Bridgerton. “Come on.” 

-

“Do either of you know how to use it?” Anthony asks, staring at the stove. 

Mildred shakes her head, “the maids are always around to do it.” 

“Both of you sit down,” you say. 

“Do you know how to work this?” he asks, sounding surprised. 

“I do. It’s too late for us to have a full meal, instead we can have a glass of warm milk.” 

They sit at the table in the corner of the room. 

Anthony watches as you move gracefully around the kitchen.

“If you keep staring, she’ll catch you.” 

He turns to her, “what?” 

“You’re staring.” 

“No, I wasn’t,” he denies. 

“You can lie all you want but I know you care for her. Perhaps, you always have and never wanted to admit it before and the whole bee situation was a ruse so that you could stop being a ninny and marry her instead.” 

His jaw drops, he doesn’t know how to respond. “I did not-” 

She waves him off, “do not lie Anthony, I know you love her and have for some time now, only you must realize it now than later in your marriage. I do not want her… or you to be unhappy. Oddly enough, I seem to care for you but, obviously not the same way she does you.” 

He scoffs through his nose, muttering to himself, “obviously.” 

You place the glass of milk in front of the two, interrupting their conversation. “Don’t tell me you’ve decided to marry my cousin instead.” 

Anthony nearly chokes on the liquid, setting the glass down and snatches the handkerchief you hold out for him.

He wipes his chin, “what makes you think I would want to marry, Mildred.” 

She scoffs, “you’d be lucky to have me, Bridgerton.” 

He narrows his eyes to her. 

“I’ll be just outside this door, leaving the two of you talk and nothing else.”

You furrow your brows, “wait. Mil-” 

She waves to you. 

You take a deep breath, not wanting to face him. 

It was different when he wasn't paying attention to you and rather his own life, but now... you hope he doesn't want to talk. 

"We should- we should talk." 

Everything in your screams to not run away and hide, even though it sounds like it would be the better option right now. 

"How are you?" 

"I would be happier if I was marrying for love and not because of your concern over my virtue," you mumble. 

He overhears and sighs. “Don’t-” 

“No, I understand. Truly I do, just- I need- it’s late. Apologies for keeping you up.” You grab the skirts of your dress and walk out. 

Mildred watches as you run away. She spins around and stands in the doorway. “What did you do?” 

“Me- I-” 

She sighs. “Just shut up.” 

He sighs and slumps in the chair. Mildred storms into the room after you. 

-

“What happened?” 

“Nothing.” You take a deep breath, hunched over your vanity. 

“You know, you two act as a married couple who have known each other for too long and no longer know how to act lovingly around one another.” 

“You are wrong, cousin. He is- he is the scum- the scum that rests at the bottom of my shoe. Why would I ever marry someone like that? Much less that Bridgerton, I mean, Colin would be a better option and I don’t like him as much as I do Benedict.” You keep your head down, “people marry for less.” 

“I wish to marry for love, if it ever decides to come my way but until then I will deal with him marrying the only person, I care about that is close to my age.” 

“So, you care enough about me to marry me off?” 

“Don’t phrase it in such a way that makes me the bad guy,” she throws herself onto your bed. 

“Go to bed. I will be fine, Millie.” 

She props herself up on her elbows. “Are you sure?”

“I am. Please,” you look up and turn around, putting on a brave face. “I promise you. I will be fine.” 

“If you’re sure-” 

“Which I am. Goodnight, Millie.” 

She sighs and steps outside of the room, “night.” 

-

“Good morning.” 

You don’t respond to Mildred. 

“Are you ignoring me?” 

“I am simply showing you the way my soon-to-be husband will treat me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It has already begun. I awoke early and decided I wanted to speak to him after thinking about it all. I say hi but he does not.” You shrug, "it doesn't matter now." 

"It does though. Let me," she sighs. "Let me speak with him. I can- I can fix this." 

"No," you say. “I don’t want you to be in the middle any more than you have.” 

“Alright... now onto more pressing matters.” 

“Such as?” 

“Your plans for the wedding?” 

“Oh, right.” You continue to stare out the window. 

“Are you sure you're alright?” 

“I just-” 

Anthony stops himself from knocking on the door and decides to listen. 

“I thought when I was to marry, I would marry for love not because I need my virtue protected or saved." 

"If he didn't agree to this-" 

"I would be a spinster." 

"That is how I will live my life," Mildred grabs your hand and gains your attention. 

Anthony takes his leave, unable to stay there any longer. 

“That is not how I want you to live your life. I want you to be the one to have another you can call upon if there is something the matter because I won’t always be there and I need to know that you are protected before I leave.” 

“You’re leaving?” 

She sighs. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out but yes. A week after you’ve been married, I plan on traveling the world.” 

“Your childhood dream.” 

“Precisely.” 

"I- what if I'm not good enough to," you wave your hand around. "This."

"This what? I'm not sure I understand." 

"What if- what if I am not fit to be a wife. I mean," you push yourself out of the chair and pace around the room. "I don't want him to be disappointed in the person he is to call wife. I don't want to be in a marriage of..." 

"Regret?" 

"Precisely." 

She stops you by placing a hand on your wrists, “now is the time for us to plan your wedding. Violet and Anthony have been sitting in the tearoom since I came in here.” 

“She’s- they’re- why didn’t you tell me?” You rush out the door. 

-

You clean yourself up outside the door and nod to your servant, Bernard, to open the doors. You nervously smile at both. 

Violet pops up from the chair closest to the window. “How are you?” 

“Oh- uh- I’m,” you glance to the side and stare at her eldest, who locks eyes with you. 

“I mean from the- well, you know,” she struggles to say. 

You let out a breath of relief, “ah, yes. I do. I am- I am fine. I’m just happy that everyone else is fine.” 

She smiles, “that is kind of you to say, but unnecessary.” 

“I hear you came to talk about our upcoming… event.” 

“Is that what Mildred told you?” 

You furrow your brows, “is that not what you’re here to discuss?” 

Anthony pushes himself off the couch. “Not yet. Mother, if you’d excuse us.” 

“Anthony, I don’t-” 

He gives her a look. 

"We will be right outside this door." 

"What did you want to discuss?" 

"If we are to marry, we should have stipulations." 

"You think I'll be so horrible that we need rules?" 

"Not you. I believe if we have these, we'll have a better understanding of what should come from this marriage." 

"Why don't I just stay by your side and show my face when you need me to so you can look like the perfect husband? Would that make things easier?" 

He sighs. "That is one of the things we need to discuss, which events you'd prefer to come to." 

"Oh, I get to choose those?" 

"Please stop. I am trying to make this as easy as I can." 

You clench your fists. "How am I supposed to be okay with this?" 

“It’s my fault and I am trying to make up for that.” 

You pause, “your fault?” 

He nods, “yes, it was- it was me who... couldn’t.” 

You step forward and place your hand on his, drawing his attention onto you. “It is not your fault when something so devastating comes to mind and you do all you can to prevent another. I do not blame you, but you must understand that I do not want to be one of those ladies.” 

“Who?” The only word he can get out as he studies you. 

Your compassion shifts into something of annoyance, one he knows too well. “You know who, someone who wants to be like Penelope’s mother or maybe even... all of the other ladies,” you chuckle, proud of the joke you made.

"I'm glad you can make jokes at a time like this." 

You roll your eyes, "oh hush, I am still upset about pretending to be a perfect housewife for the one man every woman dreams of being with." 

"Are you included?" 

Your mouth agape as you stare at him. 

"You two haven't maimed each other, perfect." 

"Millie," you pinch the bridge of your nose. 

"Oh, don't act so coy now." 

You roll your eyes and sit down, waiting to hear what Anthony and his mother have to say. You pace along the floor, finding it to be quieter here than in the tearoom with the others, even if they weren’t talking it was still too loud. You know there’s no alternative for what’s transpired between you and your soon to be husband, but it still hurts knowing he will never love you the way- 

“Are you alright?” Daphne’s voice draws you out of your thoughts. 

You give her a small smile and hope she doesn’t poke further. 

“I know this isn’t how it was supposed to happen but there is one good thing about your marriage.” 

You scoff, “and what, pray tell, is that?” 

“I finally can call you sister.” 

You try not to show how happy that makes you, not wanting her to know she was right. “Thank you.” 

She drags you over to the piano. 

“I still don’t understand why you have many so pianos.” 

She shrugs, “for moments like this, maybe?” 

“Are you waiting for me to play?” 

She nods, “of course, I am. You were always much better than I was.” 

“I was not.” 

“Show me then. Show me how awful you play, and I will not ask you again.”

You don’t know how long you had been playing for, but it was something you missed- not having a piano in your own home, you didn’t realize how long it had been. 

You usually prefer to play when no one is watching but having Daphne by your side was nice, she always knew how to help calm you before things could get worse; everyone knew of your father’s temper, and no one wants to face that through his only daughter. 

Anthony raises his hand to knock on the door but pauses as he listens, he doesn’t realize Daphne had learned a new piece. He slowly opens the door and finds you playing instead. 

‘When did you learn how to play?’ He wonders. 

Or maybe it was, you had always known, and he was too into his fantasies that he forgot to pay attention to the true version of you. 

Just when he was hoping to learn something horrible about you; you’re becoming more and more like his... 

“I didn’t know you played.” 

You open your eyes and glance up at him, standing up as quickly as you can. “I don’t.” 

He furrows his brows, “that’s not what I heard.” 

“That- that was nothing.” 

“Why are you lying?” 

“I prefer to keep this information to myself so if you could kindly pretend you didn’t hear anything, that’d be best.” You exit the room, knowing you’ve left 

Anthony in a wave of confusion. “What was that about?” 

“She doesn’t like others to know of her talents because she knows they’ll ask her to perform one of them.”

“Her mother.” He finally understands. 

“And her aunt.” 

Now he truly gets it. "Is this what you two would do while I was out with mother?" 

She shrugs and pushes the seat back. "Perhaps, or maybe you were never around long enough to learn about her even though you're entranced by her." 

He stutters, unsure of where she could have gotten that idea. "What?" 

She quickly hides her amusement before he can see. "Nothing. Goodnight Anthony." 

He tries to stop her, but she ignores him, offering an excuse for needing to put Augie to bed. He wonders what else he doesn’t know. 

You pace back and forth in front of his office door; this isn’t something you can do in person, is it? You sigh and wonder if it’s a wise choice to be doing this at all. 

You slip the letter under his door and take a step back. “That wasn’t so hard.” You turn around and briskly walk down the hallway, hoping he doesn’t see that it was you who was there.

Something moving in the corner of his eye piqued his interest and moved closer to figure out what it was. He picks up the letter and opens the door, seeing someone’s figure turning the corner before losing sight of them. 

He closes the door and opens the letter, wondering what you could have said when you’ve already said plenty. 

Dear Bridgerton, 

I I want to start off by apologizing for my outbursts, you don’t deserve them, and they are not aimed at you, but you happen to be the person I am talking to and... This is not how I expected the season to begin or end and I’m sure you didn’t either but if there is someone I were to marry, I’m happy it’d be you... because I trust you. I will do all that I can to be the perfect wife for you and if not, I apologize in advance. 

Sincerely, Your annoying soon to be wife 

The next day came, and you didn't know how to act. 

You sit between Daphne and Mildred when he enters. 

He sits in front of you and nods, acknowledging you, which you return. 

The girls beside you don't know how to react, each staring at the other with a raised brow. 

You two talked with his mother about the decisions for your wedding. 

"Have you two discussed what you want?" 

Anthony opens his mouth to answer but finds himself without an answer. 

"Everyone will talk, and it will no doubt be in Lady Whistledown's column, but it would be preferred if we had a small ceremony, family only." 

You don’t look up from your plate. Violet nods, listening intently. "I will use the dress my mother made when I was born, it'll save us time on getting a dress. The flowers can be your choice." 

"And after?" 

You turn to her, "it'd be smart to hold a small reception after all though it will increase because everyone will want to see who married the handsome and fortunate viscount."

You push yourself out of the chair. "I apologize but I realized I promised to spend time with the girls before we go out for our shopping trip." 

"What just happened?" 

"Have you two talked about anything regarding your wedding?" Violet asks her son. 

"Every time we discuss something-" 

"No, have you sat down and discussed what you two are to do? Who will be there? Anything that a soon to be husband and wife should discuss?" 

His shoulders sag. "No." 

"I want you to go in my place." 

"What? Why?" 

"It will give you two a moment to talk and prepare for the future hardships you two will face as a couple. Raise her spirits. She got a letter from her mother, saying she will not be able to attend. Perhaps that is why she is so uninterested today." 

"She- how do you know?" 

"I'm your mother, I know more than you would think." 

-

Anthony waiting by the door frightened you. “Are you joining us?” 

“I’m here in place of my mother.” 

It takes you a few seconds to process what he said. “You are?” 

He nods. “Shall we?” 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. 

The failed whispering voices of the women around you, annoys you to the point where Anthony feels that he needs to do something. “Is there anything that has caught your interest?” 

You shake your head. 

“Let’s go. I know somewhere we can have a better time, away from the whispers of these women.” He leans in, whispering into your ear, “they’re jealous of you.” 

You cover your mouth to hide your amusement, not wanting him to know he’s helping lift your spirits. You two exit the shop and return to the Bridgerton home. “Why are we back here?” 

“We are going to have a drink.” 

“With your family? Couldn’t we do that any day we wanted to?” 

He holds his hand out for you to take, which you do. “Although that may be true, that’s not what I had in mind.” He places his arms behind his back, clenching his fist not wanting you to see the control you have over him. “We’re going to spend time in my office.” 

“Oh? I’m invited in, I feel so special.” 

“You should, very few are allowed in here, especially when I’m working.” 

“Of course. The head of the house needs quiet or else.”

-

“I see going out has helped you.” 

You watch as he fills the glass for you before grabbing it and swallowing it in one gulp. “You could say that.” You scrunch your nose at the sensation, maybe doing that was a bad idea. 

He takes a seat in his chair. 

“Could I ask you something?” 

He nods, staring at you over the glass as he takes a sip. 

“Did your mother inform of the one guest we won’t be seeing at our wedding?” 

He slowly sets the glass down before returning his gaze to you. “She may have mentioned it.” 

“Is that why you came with me today because she told you to and not because you wanted to?” 

“She may have said she thought it was best if I take her place, but it was initially my choice to go.” 

“You’re not lying?” 

“What would I gain from lying to you?” 

You sit up and reach for the bottle, filling your glass. “A relationship built on a lie.” 

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are you trying to make this harder than it needs to be?” 

“I can’t just- you can’t honestly expect me to ignore that we are marrying one another when you never wanted to marry and I hoped that when it happened, it’d be with someone who loved me.” 

He’s out of his chair before you realize he’s now sitting in the chair beside you. “What will it take for you to stop saying that?” 

“What?” 

He leans in closer. “Why do you think I could never love you?” 

“I-” You gulp. “You have spoken before that you never want to marry, what else am I to think?” 

“How do you know I couldn’t change? What if something comes of this relationship?”

Your breath hitches and you continue staring him in his eyes. “I suppose we’ll have to cross that bridge if we get to it.” You set the glass down and rush for the door, “I’ll take my leave now. I’m feeling quite tired after our outing.” 

He grabs your wrist, pulling you back in before you could open the door. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you into answering my questions.” 

“What if I enjoyed them?” 

You turn to face him with a small smile. “Then I am concerned for your being.” 

“Don’t worry about me.” 

“Be honest, did you mother tell you about my mother is not coming?” 

“No,” he shakes his head, but you know the truth. 

“You don’t need to lie on order to preserve myself, it’s okay.” You sigh, “is it sad that a small part of me wishes for her to be there?” 

“Not in the least. It’s natural for you to want your mother there-” 

“It’s not because she’s my family, I just- I need her to stop pushing marriage onto me.” You pace back and forth, “this is my way to prove her wrong but that makes me feel worse because it makes me seem as though I’m being a bad daughter.” 

“You’re not,” he disagrees with you. “That is anything but you being a bad daughter. If anything, she’s- she’s scared to lose her daughter to a new family because they know you will be starting a new life, away from her and that’s why she doesn’t want you to help.” 

“But what if-” 

His hand slides down your arm as if his hand lingering wasn’t enough to drive you mad, he tightens his grip on your hand. 

You force yourself to focus on his words and not the warmth emanating from him. 

“Stop. All the negative thoughts you have are not going to help you. But listen to this, you are a good daughter, and she should be happy to know her daughter will be taken care of. As long as you are a part of this family you will be taken care of and not have to worry about expectations.” 

“I won’t,” you whisper, not meaning to. He shakes his head and gives a small smile. “I promise.” 

He realizes he’s been holding onto you this whole time and his arm falls. “Can I walk you back to your room?” 

You nod, ignoring the warmth flooding your cheeks. “I would like that.”

-

“Will I see you at breakfast tomorrow?” 

“You will, and if I ask you the same question?” 

He smiles, “I will be there.” 

“Good, I think this is a good start to our future marriage.” You step inside the room. 

“I am sorry.” 

“What?” 

“The marriage… and the reason we are to wed.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I lost myself and-” 

You shake your head, placing a hand on his chest over his heart. “I do not blame you for something as traumatizing as your father’s death. Please know that.” 

“But-” 

“Anthony Bridgerton,” you tell him using a stern tone. “Stop it. It may not have happened under the best of circumstances, but I am happy that I will be wed to you than some other man. I can at least trust you.” You step back into the doorway, slowly closing the door as you bid him goodnight. 

He stands there, touching the spot where your hand was until he drops it, straining his hand as he fights to clench it.

-

Benedict and Colin happen to be there when he turns the corner. 

“Quite a show you put on there,” the second eldest says. 

“Yes, you’re whole “I’ll be the perfect husband” speech was wonderful,” the third eldest chimes in. 

Anthony scoffs, “would you two quiet down?” He grabs them by their collars, dragging them into one of their miscellaneous rooms. “Why aren’t you two out?” 

“How could we be out when you’re here?” Colin asks. 

“Trying to woo the love of your life,” Benedict adds on. 

“I’m not- you two are acting like children.” 

“Us? Acting like children?” Colin starts, glancing at his brother. 

“No,” the artist shakes his head, “I don’t think so.” 

The soon to be married man glares at his brothers, unsure if he wants to listen further or not but if he doesn’t let them continue it’ll be worse in the morning. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “If I let you two continue, will you keep quiet in the morning?” 

“Morning?” Colin turns to partner in crime. “What’s happening in the morning?” 

The artist glances over his older brother and grins, “is the soon to be wed joining his family and future wife for breakfast?” 

“With him being silent, I’m going to say yes.” 

“Finally, you agree with me.” 

“I agree with you,” the third eldest argues. 

“I don’t recall.” 

“Okay, now that you two are done, I’m going to bed.” 

“To dream of your wife.” 

“She looked quite nice today, wouldn’t you say brother?” Benedict asks. 

“I dare say, she looks even more radiant since her recent engagement.” 

“You two are done,” Anthony shoves them out of the room. “You two will not speak of her like that again. She is your friend,” he jabs Benedict’s chest. “And your future sister-in-law,” and does the same to Colin. “You will respect her and not talk like this again, understood?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

-

The next morning as soon as you step out of the door, your future husband paces. “You’re awake.” 

“I am, it’s time for breakfast.” You close the door behind you. “Shall we go downstairs and join the others?” 

“We’ll be the first ones down there.” 

“Either way, I’m going down.” 

He holds his arm out for you to take. “Shall we?” 

You give him a small smile and nod. “After breakfast, what are your plans?” 

“I have a few things I need to look over but after that I’m free. What did you have in mind?” 

“I planned on going for a walk along the back of your family’s estate and perhaps we could talk about things.” 

“Just the two of us.” 

“Mildred could join us?” 

“I’d rather she not.” 

“I don’t blame you; she’s been on a rampage since earlier this week.” 

The doors open and his brothers, Daphne and Mildred, are already sitting at the table. 

“Of course,” he mumbles. 

“Did you say something?” You ask him. 

He turns his head towards you, offering a small smile. “No, it’s nothing.” 

The glances between him and his brothers were interesting, intriguing to you and the girls, who also had no clue what was going on. 

He stands behind your chair, hand resting on your shoulder. “I shall find you after I am done.” 

You nod and watch him go. 

“Well, that was interesting.” 

Daphne shushes your cousin. 

-

You lay across the couch, reading another book and were so into it, not even realizing that he had entered the room. 

He smiles as he steps closer, wondering what’s going on inside your head, finding you to be more interesting as he observes you reading, compared to his sister. He leans against the back of the couch, bending down to catch your attention. 

A shadow moving catches your eye and you turn, screaming soon after. 

You place your hand over your heart, taking deep breaths. “For heaven’s sake! What was that for?” 

“What do you mean?” He smirks, arms on around the sides of your body as he stays behind the couch. “What are you reading?” 

You turn around and cross your arms, “why does that concern you?” 

“Can’t a future husband be curious as to what his future wife is into?” 

You glance at him from the corner of your eye. “Is that all?” 

“It is. But that’s not why I’m here.” He doesn’t say anything else. 

You get impatient and wave your arms around. “Spit it out. Come on.” 

“We are to marry by the end of the week.” 

Your brows raise is surprise, “oh.” 

“Is that alright?” 

You take a deep breath, “I just- I wasn’t expecting it to be so soon but that’s- okay.” You place the book beside you and stand up, brushing the wrinkles out of the skirts of your dress. “I need to go over some things with your mother.” 

The humor falls from his face. “Wait- where are you going?” 

"I just told you." 

He follows after you, "I heard you but-" He reaches for you, pulling you back. "Can we talk?" 

You take a deep breath to calm your beating heart. Why is this happening now? You thought you were over this. Your lips part as you stare at his hand. You shake your head, staring up at him. "I- what do we need to talk about?" 

"Lady... things." He’s quiet for a moment. "I won't push you but know I'm here to talk if you need someone." 

"Thank you." You take off, not noticing the way his hand slowly falls or the way he clenches his hand. 

It's been a long time since he's felt the skin of a woman he was enchanted by, especially one he's to call wife. 

"Did we catch a moment between you and your beloved?" 

Anthony sighs, "don't you have charcoal to break for your fruit drawings?" 

His younger brother puts a hand to his chest, offended by his brother's comment. "I'm hurt, Anthony. Truly, I am but it's not why I'm here." 

He turns to face the artistic Bridgerton, taking notice of the serious look on his face. "What's wrong?" 

"Sister." 

"Which one?" 

"Not one of ours." 

He furrows his brows, mouth agape to ask why but realizes who his brother is referring to. "I thought we had taken care of this situation?" 

"We did but then she decided to cut their trip short and has been calling on you since she arrived today."

"I need you to take care of her. I cannot allow her to ruin my marriage." 

Benedict nods, "you finally figured out you truly care for her, didn't you?" 

Anthony chuckles, "I'm not discussing this with you. Call Colin if you need help." 

"We got it. Go take care of my future sister." 

-

He nods for the doors to be opened. "Good morning, ladies." 

Your cousin shakes her head, your mother fawns over him while Violet takes a sip of her tea. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of him. 

He places a hand on the back of your chair. "I expect you all enjoyed your breakfast before discussing more of the wedding." 

"Oh, certainly. Your family has been nothing but kind to us, Viscount." 

You adjust the napkin on your lap to keep you from rolling your eyes at your mother's fake enthusiast tone. 

Mildred pats your arm, knowing the strained relationship between you and your mother. 

He notices the tension in your shoulders and wishes he could pull you away from all this madness. "Anything I can help with?" 

"Oh, heavens no. You have other more important things to take care of. Leave this to us ladies, isn't that, right?" 

You purse your lips and let out a quiet, "mmhmm." 

Maybe it was better when she said she couldn’t come to the wedding. Yes, you were sad, but it was better than the real thing. 

Violet glances between you and your mother. "Why don't we let the girls go on a walk with Anthony watching over them?" 

"But-" 

"I think this will be good for them. It will give them more time to talk." 

The woman hesitates to say yes, debating if this is truly a wise decision before making a decision. 

-

You didn't realize how tight you were squeezing Mildred's arm until she let out a whine. 

Your eyes widen, "oh, Millie. I'm so sorry." 

"It's fine. I should have known better. I know how crazy she makes you." "This always happens?" You don't look in his direction. Your cousin nods her head, "unfortunately." 

"Why has she made this unexpected visit?" 

"She," Mildred pauses, giving herself time to think of a better answer than truth. 

"She wants to know if I am with child and if the reason, you're marrying me is to save my family's name." 

Anthony nods, he understands why you preferred planning this with his mother and your cousin. "Should we?" 

You two glance over in his direction. "What are you implying?" 

He shrugs, "I merely suggest we pretend as if there is something going on, give your mother something to worry about." 

"You want her to pretend as if she is with child?" 

He nods, confirming Mildred's nightmare. 

"Please tell me you're not thinking of going through with this. It’s absurd and- oh, no. Now I like it." 

You glance between the two. "Is this something you two finally agree on?" 

They stumble for a minute, waiting for the other to argue and tell you no but come to realize you are, in fact, correct. 

Daphne stumbles upon the three of you and smiles, neither Mildred nor her brother are arguing, and you don't look uncomfortable. 

"Daphne!" Your cousin waves. "Come, come. We need your knowledge on a subject." 

She nods, smiling. "May I ask what you need my help with exactly?" 

"How does one pretend to be with child?" 

She owlishly blinks, tilting her head staring at the woman as if she's lost her mind. "I'm sorry?" 

"We are feeding into my aunt's absurd idea of her precious daughter being with child." 

Anthony purses his lips, finding himself to be offended more than he had been by Mildred's comments. "I'm not the worst option for a father." 

"Moving on," she waves him off before returning her attention to his sister. "We need information." 

"And you want to do this?" She turns to face you. 

Your eyes widen slightly, not realizing she was going to ask. "I think it would be... nice to show mother how well her child is without her watchful eye." 

"And you're sure this is the way to do it?" 

You shrug, "it's not so much if I think this is okay, it's more like she needs to realize I am my own person and can live a life without her dictating everything for me." 

Daphen nods, "okay. I will help." 

Mildred smiles and interlocks her arm with the Bridgerton girl's. "Come, we have much to discuss." 

You turn to your future husband and raise a brow. 

He stares at the two, wondering what advice his sister could have to offer before holding his arm out for you to hold onto as you all return to the hall for dinner. 

"Are you sure about this?" 

You hum, not having listened to a word he said. 

"I asked if you're sure about this. Mildred and I were joking, we don't expect you to play along with this idea." 

"Your kind, but this is something I need to do. She won't listen to reason if I tell her I don't need her help, she'll involve herself, no matter what." 

"And this is how you'll get her to stop?" 

You sigh, "we'll see." 

The dinner was entertaining for most, you felt bad for embarrassing Violet and the Bridgerton name all to get your mother off your back, but you felt there was no other way to stop her from inserting her wants and needs before yours. 

That was the first night you had a stern talking to from your future mother-in-law and- even though you could have thought of a better way to handle the situation, it felt nice to be taken care of the way a child should, compared to the way your mother raised you. 

You didn’t talk to your cousin or future husband after and went to bed with too much on your mind. 

-

Then came the wedding, it was as lovely as could be even if it was short notice and only family was invited. 

It came as a surprise to everyone, mainly yourself, when your mother decided it was time to stop and act like a caring parent. 

She smiled and fixed a piece of hair that was out of place. “I know this isn’t the wedding you dreamed about-” 

“I didn’t dream of a wedding often.” 

She sighs, realizing she’s been putting words in your mouth rather than stopping to listen to you. “I never dreamed of marrying someone I didn’t love. If I were to ever get married, I’d rather it be with someone I could have a future with than someone who would rather be with another.” 

"I know." 

"And you know what else- you know?" 

She nods, "I've been trying to relive my life through you, and it isn't fair. I'm here to watch you marry the man who will provide, take care of you," she cups your cheeks. "And love you the way you deserve." 

You shake your head, fighting to keep your composure, not wanting anyone to know of your breakdown. "He doesn't love me." 

She nods, "he does, you just can't see it." 

"How-" 

Your mother shushes you, "it's time." 

The reality of the situation didn't hit you until it was time to walk down the aisle but with the help of Mildred and Daphne, you were able to overcome it. 

That was also the only time you've felt the lips of your husband. 

-

Since the wedding it feels as though all the progress you two made was wasted, even Mildred was tired of your constant complaints before and after she left. 

You sit in the library, biting your nail until it hurts and turn the page; a new habit of yours, one Eloise would be proud of. 

You started hiding away to read when everyone went off to live their lives now that the beginning of yours has ended started. You’ve been reading more since your cousins’ departure; it was a tearful morning but you're happy to know she’s out living her life the way she wants. 

Then Daphne and Simon left the hall so they could return to their lives in their own home with little Augie. 

You've tried to go out with Violet and Lady Danbury, but they preferred to ask when you two would expand your family; safe to say you also hide in here for another reason. 

The youngest Bridgerton’s are swept away for their studies as they continue to grow. Francesca and Eloise are nowhere to be found half the time (hence where you got the idea). 

You don't know if you'd be able to handle talking to the other two brothers since marrying the eldest. The comments they make at breakfast are enough, going on a walk with them would be too much. 

Not that you mind the quiet even if it does get lonely at times. 

You push yourself off the ground, placing the book back in its place only now realizing how dark it had gotten and your candle has died, providing little light to guide you; its barely the size of your thumb and the wick is dying the longer you stay here. 

You open the door, carefully closing it and wince as the hinges creaking echoes down the hallway. You pause at the sound of footsteps only to hear a familiar girls whisper. "Hyacinth?" 

She smiles, "what are you doing here?" 

"I was reading." 

"In the dark?" 

You two glance down at your source of light that died as soon as she mentioned it. "The candles died." 

“Can you take me back to my room?” 

You smile and nod, “of course I can.” You grab her hand and try to find your way back to the hallway where her room is. 

-

“Finally, we found it.” You glance down at her, “I told you, we would.” 

She smiles up at you with a sleepy expression. “I knew you would.” 

You open the door and get her settled into bed before exiting. 

You wonder what it would be like to have your own child and stop. Are you really thinking about what it would be like to have a child when you haven’t seen your husband since your wedding day? 

You shake your head and continue down the hallway before turning around, realizing you made a wrong turn; you sigh, leaning against the railing, staring at the ballroom floor. 

You remember the first time you arrived at the hall and saw him. You didn’t know why your heartbeat was so fast until your cousin explained it to you. 

You wonder if he knows how you feel and if that’s the reason, he’s been avoiding you. 

“What are you doing awake at this hour?” 

You spin around and find- “Ben!” You cross your arms to cover you. 

He smiles, “what are you doing out of bed and away from your husband?” 

You take the jacket he offers you, “I’d rather be reading but my candle died- oh no.” 

“What?” 

“I left it in your sister’s room.” 

“Ah, so you’ve seen the whole family other than the one man you should be seeing.” 

“Quiet now, Benedict. Unless you want others to know you’ve seen your brother’s wife in her night dress.” 

“It wouldn’t be the biggest scandal our family has dealt with.” 

You lower your head, rubbing your forehead at his words. “You’re an idiot. I’m going to bed.” 

Anthony had a rough night and going to bed was something he desperately needed, maybe seeing your figure laying in our shared bed would make him feel better; he always seems to calm down when his eyes land on you. 

That was something he always enjoyed about you whenever you were around. 

He stops removing his coat when the door opens, and his brother is behind you while you stay in the doorway with his coat around your shoulders. 

His brother takes the item from you and takes his leave before Anthony starts asking questions (not before Benedict gives him a suggestive look). 

He doesn’t want to ask- he shouldn’t ask, it’s not his place. “Something I should know about?” He hopes this doesn’t lead to a fight. 

“What do you mean?” 

“We’re going to pretend as if my brother walking you, my wife, wouldn’t be a scandal if we were elsewhere.” 

“Why? Don’t you trust me?” You ask, tired of all the games; him avoiding you and now having an interest in you. 

“Do you know how much it affects me?” 

An annoyed sigh escapes him, revealing to you how he feels (about the situation and not yourself). “What affects you, sweetheart?” 

You ball your fists, “stop calling me that.” 

He can’t call you such an endearing name when he hasn’t been acting like your husband. “That is what a husband is supposed to call his wife, is it not? A charming word of endearment for a handsome lady, such as yourself.” 

“Stop talking…” 

“What else am I to call you? I cannot call you by your name, it would prove-” 

“How little we care for each other.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You. I’m talking about you.” 

“Me?” 

“You are a pest.” 

“A pest,” he whispers, finding himself offended. 

“You have never once thought of myself in the manner of being one’s wife but yet you act like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re my husband.” 

“Am I not?” 

You study him. “You want to make a big deal out of this when you’ve been avoiding me since the wedding? Therefore, you are a pest.” 

“I- I haven’t- when was I avoiding you?” 

“You’re a terrible liar.” 

He struggles to remove his coat and you make your way towards him, helping him. 

“Your brother found after I helped Hyacinth get back to bed after she found me exiting the library. He didn’t want anyone else to see me in such a… intimidate manner.” 

You stare at him through your lashes. “Anything else you want to add? Maybe,” you place his jacket on the back of the chair before taking a seat at the vanity. You start removing the pins and ribbons keeping your hair up, your tiredness hitting you as you prepare for bed. 

He sighs, untying his collar. “I wasn’t avoiding, I’ve been… busy.” 

“Busy? You’ve been busy?” You undo the sheets, settling onto your side. “I’m going to sleep until you can come up with another excuse on why you’ve been avoiding me.” 

“I- believe me when I say I wasn’t avoiding you because I- this isn’t easy.” 

You spring up, glaring at him. “And you think this is easy for me?” 

“I’m not saying anything about our marriage. I have been,” he pauses, thinking of the right word. “Dealing with personal matters, things you shouldn’t have to worry about because of a mistake I made in the past. I am trying to protect this because I care about you.” 

You gulp, “I’m sorry.” 

“What was that?” 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you stare at the ceiling. “I’m sorry for thinking you were avoiding me but to be fair,” you spring forward, pointing to him. “I- I-“ You struggle to speak as you catch the sight of his bare chest. 

He knows what he’s doing to you and his chest warms at the thought of only you being the one to see him in such an intimate way. 

You turn away, fiddling with the sheets. “Like I said, I’m sorry for assuming the worst but considering-“ You close your eyes, following the way his lips moved against yours. You push him away, the warmth of his chest lighting a fire within you. “Just because we are married, does not mean you can use your body to change the subject or get me to stop talking about something you don’t want to.” 

The corner of his smile twitches before he allows himself to smirk. 

You’ve only ever seen him use this expression with his family, never once was it directed at you. 

You’re happy tonight ended the way it has, you’re feeling closer to him, learning more of what makes Anthony Bridgerton tick. 

-

He closes his eyes, chest heaving with every breath he takes. “I’m here.” He pulls away from you. 

Your hand falls at your side. 

His figure fades away, leaving you confused. 

You burst up, confused as to what your dream means and glance beside you, finding him still asleep. You push yourself out of bed, needing the get away for a moment, sitting in the bench underneath the window. 

You stare at the stars, wondering if there was some way, they’d be able to respond to your questions. It’s only been several days since your marriage became official; you still feel as though you’re not and none of is real. 

You think back to your first kiss you two shared at the altar and the one you shared before going to bed. Your fingertips brush against your lips, relishing the sensation you felt then as it fills you with something you never thought you’d be able to enjoy. 

‘Is this what love is?’ You think, staring at the bright moon, knowing it won’t answer you. 

You glance back at him and wonder if he’ll ever love you the way-. You wipe away the stray tear, knowing how much it’d break you if he decided to cheat or leave you entirely. 

Your greatest fear was thinking you’d end up alone. 

Now you fear he’d be the one to leave you without looking back. 

He squints, the moonlight disturbing his slumber. “What are you doing up?” 

Your head snaps in his direction. “Hmm?” 

He repeats his question, sitting up in bed, his night shirt wrinkled and slipping off his chest. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” you tell him, not believing your own words. You crawl back into bed when you notice he won’t fully fall asleep until you’re near. 

As soon as you settle onto your side, his breathing evens out. 

You lay your head on the pillow, fighting the thoughts you know will keep you awake, feeling you’ll need more sleep than anything. 

-

"We need to try for a child." 

He glances up from his work. "I didn't realize your mother was in town." 

You narrow your eyes to him, something he is truly fond of even if you are upset with him. "I'm going to pretend as if you didn't say that." 

You close the door and pace around the floor in front of his desk. 

“If you find yourself calm enough to talk, could you repeat what you said when you busted into my office.” 

He knows what you said, there's no denying what he's heard but what's got you riled up to bring up such a topic. 

The wedding was only three weeks prior, he knows of the idle gossip some of the other women enjoy talking amongst each and he's curious as to who said something. 

He's also been trying to keep himself busier than usual to keep him from staying up too late and thinking of performing such acts upon you. He sets his pen down, giving you his full attention. “Why are you asking now?” 

“I’m not asking,” you argue. 

Is it such a wise idea to try and push for this? Most likely not but you're too upset over the gossip to think logically. 

He studies you for a moment, wanting to understand what happened to make you think such a thing. 

“What happened? I mean, you and Daphne went out for a walk, right?” 

You pause, trying to understand where he’s getting at before nodding. 

“Who said something to you?” He raises his brow. 

“No one… exactly,” you huff, crossing your arms. 

“I know they’re expecting me to be with child by now or at least, in the works of trying for a baby and I don’t want there to be another Whistledown column with either of our names in it. It’s not just my reputation that could be ruined, it could be yours or your family’s this time.” 

He can’t help but smile at your kind thoughts. “I appreciate the concern and I’m sure my family would as well, but everything is going to be fine. We don’t need to worry about this.” 

You continue having your pity party. “I’m glad you seem to think so.” You furrow your brows, thinking about how he’s avoiding the topic. “Why are you putting this off?” 

“Putting what off?” 

“You know what I’m talking about, don’t act as coy as your brothers do when asked about their courtships.” 

He doesn’t have a way out, does he? A knock on the door alerts him. “I have other business to attend to, I’ll see you at dinner?” 

You scoff, “you pretend as if you want me and need me when we are in our shared room but now that we are out in the open you want nothing to do with me? Tell me, are you just using me for your own gain?” 

He sighs, “please, can we,” he glances at the door to find his brother. “Talk about this another time?” 

You nod, offering a fake smile, “of course, husband.” 

His attention turns to you once more, “I thought we weren’t going to have the normal marriage?” 

“It seems we were both wrong.” You shrug. “Goodnight, husband.” You yank the door open, rushing past Benedict and the guest without looking back. 

Kate smiles watching as you put yourself further away from the one person she wants. “It seems you and your bride are having minor troubles, may I?” 

Anthony grits his teeth. “What’s brought you here, to my family’s hall, today?” 

Her mischievous smile turns into an evil smirk, “I’ve come to visit an old friend, after all, didn’t you say I was always welcome?” 

“That was before you tried to take my family’s fortune and run off.” 

She plays with the cuff of his coat sleeve. “If it makes you feel better, I have a husband.” 

“Then you should be with him.” He removes her hand from him. 

If this had happened a year ago, he would be crawling back into her embrace but now that he has you, the only person that can keep him sane; he’s not going to make that mistake. 

He sits down at his desk, rereading the page he was working on when you came in. He knows he’d be stupid if he fell for her tricks once more and ruined your marriage (and family name). 

She pouts, not liking the fact that he doesn’t want her anymore. 

“Perhaps you should go back to your home. We must clean up for dinner,” Benedict chimes in. 

She spins to face the second eldest, “dinner? I’d love to.”

Anthony pushes himself out of the chair. “That’s not an invitation.” 

“Why? Are you scared I’m going to ruin your precious marriage? You truly think I’d be harsh to do such a thing?” 

“We don’t need to think it if we know.” 

She smirks in trump, feeling as though she’s won. 

-

You glance at the two with a sinking feeling in your stomach. 

Is this the way your marriage is going to end? It took a while before you could remember where you knew her from and as soon as it clicked, you were fidgeting in your seat. Why did he allow her to sit so close to him? 

She knows he's a married man and doesn't care. Maybe she thinks the marriage is fake and- you aren't worthy enough to be his wife. 

You push the food around on your plate, your appetite forgotten. You remember the rumors about their relationship but could never be proven since she went back to India with her mother but now that she's back, you don't know what to think. 

He notices and wishes that she didn't invite herself to join his family tonight. 

You ask him about expanding the family line and him avoiding the topic entirely because he doesn't want you to feel as though this is a duty the two of you have to do. 

He remembers when you two were first engaged and how you wanted to marry someone who truly loved you rather than someone marrying you out of a convenience. 

His heartbeat when you told you should try for a child, he nearly passed out on the spot at the thought of you baring one of his children. 

He knows you'd make fantastic mother; he doesn't doubt that in the least but since the wedding day he's realized something he should have a long time ago- something Kate is seeing for herself; he truly loves you. 

Nowhere is it near what she thought they had but she's happy that he has someone who cares for him in more ways than she could. 

-

She bids her farewells before pulling you to the side. "I apologize for intruding on your family dinner, but I think you should know you have nothing to worry about." 

You furrow your brows. "I'm sorry, what-" 

She shakes her head. "He loves you in more ways than he ever could care about me. I saw it tonight." She smiles, "all I ask is that you take care of him better than I could. I know you're good for him." 

You stare at the door as it closes, unsure if anything that’s just happened is real or if this is a fever dream. 

“Are you alright?” 

You turn to face your husband and gulp. “Perfectly fine, why do you ask?” 

“Did- She didn’t say anything, did she?” 

The blank expression from your face falls and is replaced by one of annoyance. “What if she told me something she shouldn’t have? Is there something you wanted her to hide from me?” 

He shakes his head, “is it too late to say no?” 

You scoff, “you’re an idiot.” You close the door, not caring if it slams shut or not. 

He stops it before it closes in his face, “I’m sorry I- it’s not true.” 

“Then what is? Why do you care whether she’s told me about yours and her relationship or not? I know about you two. I’ve read the columns and-” 

“That’s what I was worried about. I don’t want you to think something that isn’t true happened.” He stands behind the chair in front of your vanity. “I don’t want you think I’m a rake when I’m not, us marrying has changed things-” 

“Us getting married is the only reason you’ve changed?” 

“No,” he stumbles over his words, something he does more when he’s around you than anyone else he’s ever spoken to. “I-” 

You push yourself out of the chair and walk towards the bed. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I keep pushing and I’m sorry but right now, I just want to go to sleep.” 

“After you listen to what I have to say.” 

“I have not felt the way I do for anyone else. I- no words can come close to what I feel for you.” 

His grip tightens on the back of the chair. “I cannot- cannot breathe when you are near.” He catches your gaze, “you drive me insane when you try and argue with me. I don’t understand how you have vexed me and stolen my every thought. When you are here all I can think of is you, when you go out with my sister, you are the one thing on my mind. I- you, you are the bane of my existence, but I can’t seem to keep myself from you.” 

You turn around, catching his gaze in the mirror. “Why are you telling me this?” 

He spins around, “so you understand why I have changed. It’s not because I don’t care for you. I care too much about you. I have for a long time which is why I was scared when that bee was near you.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I was terrified I was going to lose you and I didn’t understand why until our marriage.” 

“But- that was days ago.” 

“Exactly,” he takes a step closer. “I’ve been losing my mind trying not to push you into something you’re not ready for. And then, earlier when you came to me, telling me we should try for a child. I didn’t know what to think.” 

“What about Kate?”

He owlishly blinks, trying to understand where you’re coming from. “What about her?” 

“You’ve been with women before me and I’ve accepted that, but Kate was here, having dinner with your family. She’s- she’s been around town from what I’ve heard being whispered behind my back. She was here and you didn’t tell me. You- you say that you love me, but I don’t know what to believe when the woman you were in love with, who later broke your heart, returned into your life and you didn’t so much as think to tell me. Benedict was more involved than I was!” 

You don’t know why you’re getting so upset over this, it shouldn’t bother you this much since you don’t- 

“I didn’t want her to spout lies about me to you and make you think I am not going to be a good husband.” He grabs your hands, “believe me when I say she is not relevant. You are my future.” 

Your chest heaves with every breath you take. “How-” Your nose twitches as you purse your lips, collecting your thoughts before you completely explode. 

“How what?” He switches between looking into one eye and then the other. 

“How could I be blind?” 

“To what?” 

“I have loved you since I could understand what the word meant and now you- you-” You gesture to your back, “help me with my corset. I cannot breathe.” 

He nearly rips your dress off you as he pulls the strings keeping the oxygen from getting into your lungs. 

You hang your head, trying to keep your emotions at bay. 

“Sweetheart…” 

You turn around, pointing at him with wet cheeks. “You have ruined me. You have ruined me for any other man since before my first debutant and have had my heart for just as long and I didn’t know it yet.” 

He holds his hand out for you, allowing you to take a step closer to him. 

You accept and stand with a few inches between you two. “You have bewitched me from the beginning, if you can accept my foolishness and accept me now, I would happily give myself to you only if you can return the feelings.” 

“I wouldn’t be able to survive if I declined your love.” 

For the first time since the wedding, the two of you share a genuine kiss and not one where he tries to use his body to distract you. It’s one that makes it feel like the world’s stopped spinning and you two are the only ones in the world. 

-

A knock on the door alerts the two of you. 

You wince, covering your eyes with your hand before reaching over for him. “Anthony, wake up.” 

“I’m coming in and I hope you two are decent.” She groans, “God, you two are naked. Gross.” Mildred complains loudly to whoever stands outside the door with her. “I thought they’d at least have the decency to be awake by now.” 

You can hear Benedict’s voice, but it comes out all muffled because you’re not fully awake. 

He opens his eyes and turns his head to find your beautiful face lying beside him, hair in disarray on the pillow. His thumb brushes across your cheekbone. “Good morning, Viscountess Bridgerton.” 

You find it hard to resist the urge to smile and open your eyes, staring at him with nothing but love and happiness. You hum, brushing back his hair so it doesn’t look as messy, wanting to see more of his handsome face. 

“Good morning, Viscount Bridgerton.” You remove your hand from his hair, pulling his hand away from your cheek to peck his palm. “What do you have planned for today?” 

“Spending time with my wife, although I do have to say, I don’t think she’d appreciate me lying in bed with someone as breathtaking as yourself.” 

You can’t help but smile. “I think if you paid her the same comments you do to me, she’d understand.” 

He sucks in air through his teeth, “I don’t know. I think you’d have to meet her to find out the kind of woman she is.” 

“I think I know.” You lean against your elbow, meeting him halfway for a morning kiss. 

“Would you two hurry up? We have plans. I did not come here on a boat to see you two to stay in bed when I have plans with my cousin. Do you hear me, Bridgerton?” 

He sighs, flopping back onto his back. “How could I not?” 

You smack his chest before pushing yourself out of bed. “I’ll be ready soon. Go downstairs and wait for me, Millie.” 

“If you’re not down here before sunset. I’m leaving.” 

You chuckle to yourself. “Okay.” 

He pulls you closer to him, hands resting against your waist, slowly wrapping around you. He kisses the exposed parts of your back before pulling you down, kissing along your shoulders. 

-

“This cannot be safe.” 

“Just because it’s a new corset, doesn’t mean it’s not safe.” 

“For the baby.” He ties the strings through the loops. “When can we tell them?” 

“When they won’t freak out.” 

“Never, okay.” 

You chuckle and spin around, placing your hands on his shoulders. “They will know soon. It’ll be fine.” 

He stares into your eyes. “You’re lucky I love you.” 

“I think that’s my line.” 

“Not today.” 

You peck his lips before ordering him to tie the corset. “I’ll see you after our walk.” 

“Don’t overexert yourself.” 

“I won’t. Goodbye, ‘Thony.” 

His eyes never left yours as you’re dragged away by your cousin. 

Benedict steps inside. “Someone’s happy.” 

He shakes his head, ignoring his brother; so happy go feed into the comments.

[wwinterwitch]

right person, all the wrong times - anthony bridgerton

summary: you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader word count: 7.3K tags: mutual pining, best friends to lovers, angst and fluff, period-typical topics (marriage is everything, gender roles, all that stuff), daphne being match maker as always, kissing, it gets briefly suggestive like once, if i skipped anything please let me know. note: i started this show two days ago and i'm already halfway through season 2. i couldn't hold myself from writing whatever this is and i thought i'll share since it's the longest fic i've ever written. english is not my first language so writing in a way that resembles the show was a whole challenge for me!

a reblog and/or comment really helps me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

all masterlists | buy me a coffee

You and Anthony have been best friends for years now. Even when he's a few years older than you, the two of you became inseparable shortly after knowing one another. No one seems to know or understand you quite like he does, and you've become the person he always turns to when he needs someone.

It happened just a few months after you were introduced into society. You were lucky to bump into him that night in Ms. Danbury's ballroom, and after repeated apologies and quick introductions, you stayed with him for the rest of the event.

Your families were excited to see the two of you talking, already picturing the moment when he shows up to your house and asks for your hand in marriage. However, as time passed, it was evident for everyone that nothing was ever going to happen.

And as embarrassing as it is to admit, you were just as disappointed to realize Anthony considered you to be just a friend. From day one, you were absolutely captivated by him, and you truly thought he was as interested as you were. Unfortunately, it seems as though your feelings have never been –and never will be– reciprocated.

Of course, you never let that stop you from trying to find in others what you so effortlessly found in Anthony from the moment you laid eyes on him. It hasn't been easy, but you continue to look for that special someone.

Despite everyone knowing about your proximity to the Viscount, a fair share of suitors were always there available for you. Some move past the mere privilege of dancing with you if they prove to be interesting enough, but none of them have made it far enough.

Perhaps the search would be easier if you weren't deeply in love with your best friend, but there's no way you'll ever be able to control how you feel. You can't control the butterflies in your stomach when you notice him approaching you, or how it seems as though everyone around disappears when you two are together.

Anthony doesn't contribute to making your situation any easier. His friendship is one of the greatest gifts you've ever received, but it has caused you a great deal of pain and confusion. Even when he's nothing but your friend– even when he has confided in you many times that marriage is the last thing on his mind, you can't help but notice certain things. Certain gestures, certain stares...he has surely given you reasons to believe your feelings might be reciprocated.

One of the many things he does that inevitably lifts your hopes up is the fact that he absolutely despises every possible suitor you've ever had. Whether he claims to know them and they're the worst person imaginable, or he starts speculating based on his own prejudices, it seems as though no man is worthy of you in Anthony's eyes. You've always wondered why he's so adamant about that claim.

"There you are!" Daphne excitedly greeted you one evening at yet another social gathering. "I was afraid I'd miss the chance to spend even a moment with you tonight, considering how busy you seem to be with all your suitors," she smiles, quickly glancing across the room.

"Well, I could say the same thing. I've seen you dance for most of the night," you remark. "I bet your brother is furious."

"Oh, believe me, he is! But I'm not the only one he's concerned about," her smile only grows after her insinuation. It's no secret that Daphne has always hoped for you to officially join their family, as she's convinced her brother is ridiculously in love with you. "I was only able to escape from him because he couldn't stop telling Benedict just how awful the men you were dancing or talking to are."

"He does have that habit, yes. Poor Benedict," you joke, turning around to spot the two brothers still talking.

Before Daphne could say a thing, a man approached the two of you. As you laid eyes on him, you recognized him as the first gentleman you had a dance with tonight. Both of you smiled at him as he extended his hand your way. "May I have another dance with you, my lady?"

You look at Daphne, who quickly takes a step back to let you know you can go. He gently grabs your hand once you've accepted his invitation, guiding you to the dance floor.

Mr. Demrick is a fine gentleman. He's been nothing but kind, charming and attentive, not to mention he's ridiculously handsome. This isn't the first evening you two have crossed paths, having the honor of dancing a few times before. He seems to have a strong interest in you. Your Mama has expressed many times that it's a matter of time before he's asking for your hand.

You do, however, notice a big flaw in this seemingly perfect man. He's no Anthony Bridgerton.

And speaking of, as you're dancing with Mr. Demrick's hand on your back and the other gently holding one of your own, you can't help but notice Anthony exactly where he once was. He's already looking your way and even from a distance you notice he's as stiff as ever, arms crossed, muttering things to Benedict.

It leaves you to wonder once again if he's being protective over his friend or if there's a deeper meaning to his apparent disgust for all the men that have ever shown interest in you.

After that night, Mr. Demrick's interest in you was more evident than ever. All Daphne could talk about with Lady Bridgerton and your Mama during supper the next day was the different bouquet of flowers he sent you and how breathtakingly beautiful they were.

"Needless to say, I'm very happy for you," Daphne seems to be finished with her talk about the flowers, turning to look at you from across the table. "You two make a very lovely match."

"No doubt you'll be very happy with such a nice and handsome gentleman for a husband," Lady Bridgerton agrees.

Everyone quickly turns to look at Anthony when he lets out a quick chuckle, looking down at his food and pretending he was barely listening.

"Something wrong, Anthony?" Lady Bridgerton asks shortly after with a rather serious tone.

He finally looks up, smiling at his mother. "Not at all. Please, continue with your...delightful chat."

You glared at him and despite you trying to ignore it, something deep within you made it impossible not to say something else regarding Mr. Demrick just to upset Anthony further. "He has invited my family to a picnic to meet his own," you say, noticing the way your best friend immediately turns to look at you with a horrified expression.

"We're really looking forward to that," your mother chimes in, trying to keep the conversation going after Anthony's interruption.

"Cheers to that!" Eloise exclaimed ironically, and you noticed she was looking directly at her eldest brother. "A man brave enough to pursue the heart of a lady is always a reason to celebrate, right?"

Now it was Colin and Benedict the ones who couldn't hold back their laughter after noticing their brother's reaction to that comment.

"What's so funny?" Hyacinth asks, looking impossibly confused.

Eloise's comment evidently made everything a lot worse. Little Gregory joins his sister in their inquiry to know what was going on, until Lady Bridgerton ordered them to stay quiet.

You didn't like El's insinuation one bit, as it does nothing to help with your delusions, but at least you were appreciative of the fact that she was willing to be with you on this one despite her disgust towards the whole idea of marriage and the position a woman is put in because of it. Perhaps she's willing to overlook that detail for the sake of upsetting one of her siblings.

As soon as dinner was over, Anthony offered to accompany you and your mother outside to your carriage. You didn't protest, and quickly calmed Daphne and Lady Bridgertons worries after they started apologizing fervently for his behavior during the evening.

Anthony immediately knew you were upset. It was evident in the way you walked in complete silence without acknowledging he was there next to you.

"Can I have a word with you before you leave?" Anthony asks as soon as the three of you are outside the Bridgerton home.

"Is it okay? If you're too tired we can leave right away."

"It's perfectly fine, dear. I'll wait in the carriage," your Mama replies. "Thank you, Lord Bridgerton, but there's no need," she quickly added when Anthony offered his arm to help her walk down the steps of the entrance. "Please reiterate my gratitude to my dear Violet for having us today."

"Of course," he nodded, returning your Mama's smile. Even when he behaves rather poorly, your mother absolutely adores him. It warms your heart to see how good they get along.

Your Mama walks to the carriage, leaving you and Anthony alone. "I apologize for my behavior tonight."

"I don't think your apologies are sincere."

"I don't know what else do you expect, if I'm being honest," he replies, and immediately knows he has to say something because of your reaction to that comment. "That man is not a good match for you. He's not on your level, and I'm quite certain that he won't be able to make you happy."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I know you. And I know when someone is not right for you."

You scoffed. "No one ever seems to be good enough for me."

Anthony nodded. "Yes, exactly."

"Can't you just be happy for me? Or at least pretend that you are?" you ask, exasperated. It's one thing that he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, but to stand here and claim to be your best friend when he acts like this is something entirely different. Something you can't and won't stand for. "I don't understand why you have to try to ruin every chance I get to find someone."

"Because," he says sternly, as if it was obvious. But is it really that obvious? Is it obvious to you, or even to him?

A dim light of hope shines through in the depths of your heart, knowing very well how dangerous that has been in the past. "Because what?"

He stood there in front of you, looking rather troubled. You notice the way he hesitates and for a moment you almost could've sworn he wanted to take a step closer to you.

But that never happened, and instead all you got was a "because you're my best friend, and I care about you," from him. The same thing you've heard over and over. That godforsaken phrase that has shattered your heart into million pieces over the years.

You try to hide your disappointment, looking up at him with a stern glance. "If I'm truly your best friend, you'd support my decisions instead of brutally questioning them like you always do."

With that said, you didn't wait for any sort of answer as you quickly walked towards your carriage, barely acknowledging your driver and your mother as you headed back home.

Anthony watches as you walk away, once again feeling like a complete fool for not saying something else. For not daring to take that extra step and reveal the real reason why he won't accept anyone else as your husband. It's quite simple, really. The real reason is that he wants to be the one you marry.

But he didn't say anything yet again, and all that's left for him to do is go back inside his house to listen to Eloise and Daphne calling him a fool while the rest agree with them. He doesn't say much about their claims, as they couldn't possibly be more true.

This is exactly what he deserves for acting so cowardly. He gets shamed by his siblings for not doing something about his feelings while you go home, probably thinking about that absurd picnic with Mr. Demrick until you go to sleep.

Next day, you try to forget all about Anthony Bridgerton and focus on your date with Mr. Demrick. Your families were sitting around all together while he asked if you would like to take a walk with him.

He's lovely. Offering his arm for you, complimenting you every chance he gets, making you laugh with his endless anecdotes and quick remarks. He's everything you should need, yet your mind wanders back to your best friend. You can't help it. All you want is for him to be the one kissing your hand and telling you you're the most captivating sight of all.

Your Mama could barely hold her excitement when she read what Lady Whistledown had to say about you and Mr. Demrick after the families were seen spending time together. "The union of the season", she called it. And it shouldn't come as a surprise, as both of you come from wealthy and respected families. It's evident everyone takes a great interest in the possible union.

Still, you were very much intimidated by it, as all eyes will be on you until there's news about an engagement.

And just as you predicted, every lady turned to look at you as you went to visit the modist for a new dress for the next ball. You must look absolutely perfect to earn the approval of everyone and capture Mr. Demrick's heart for good.

At that point, the realization finally started to settle. You're soon becoming a wife, moving to your own home and starting a family. And all of that with a man that you respect and care for, but are incapable of loving.

But perhaps this arrangement will make your feelings for Anthony become nothing but a memory. A memory you won't even care to think about when you have such a wonderful husband by your side.

Days passed and Mr. Demrick continued to send all sorts of gifts to your house. You made the choice of inviting him over so the two of you could spend more time together before the next ball. He was sitting on a couch with your mother while you played the piano for them.

"That was certainly a very beautiful performance," he says once you're done playing. "And you said you composed that yourself?"

"Indeed. I like spending my days playing the piano," you smile brightly.

The entire reunion was quickly ruined when someone burst inside the room. You turn around in your seat to find Anthony standing there, barging in completely unannounced and unexpectedly. It was unclear to you why you felt the need to stand up from your seat to greet him but you did, feeling your heart rapidly beating in your chest at the sight of him.

Oh, how badly you've missed him.

"What are you doing here, Anthony?" you ask, immediately remembering your soon-to-be fiancée and your mother are also in the room. "I'm afraid I'm with a guest right now. Whatever it is, it'll have to wait, my lord."

You never call him that, ever. It was evident by his reaction that he absolutely hated the fact that you refer to him as such.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to disrupt, but I believe it's an urgent matter."

"My lord, I–"

"I must insist," he quickly cuts you off, looking rather desperate.

You try to come up with something to say, knowing you should stand your ground and make him leave, but you were so happy to be in his presence again that the feelings completely clouded your judgment.

"No worries, my lady," you hear Mr. Demrick say, standing up from his seat and sending you a reassuring smile. "I'm sure whatever Lord Bridgerton is here for requires your immediate attention, given his insistence," he added shortly after, giving Anthony a not so friendly look. "I'm sure we can visit the gardens while we wait?"

Your mother nodded after his question. "Of course. That should be more than enough time for Lord Bridgerton to communicate his urgent matter."

Neither Mr. Demrick nor your mother were pleased by Anthony's presence, but you couldn't thank them enough from sparing you this one time. You know this man like no one else does, and you're certain that he wouldn't take a no for an answer and that would've made the situation a lot worse.

"Perfect," Mr. Demrick says before gesturing for your mother to lead the way. Before he leaves the room, he gives Anthony one last look before turning his attention back to you. "Perhaps we should discuss where you'd like your new piano to be in our future home once I'm back. I'd love for my wife to continue doing what she enjoys, especially when she's so extraordinary at it."

You smile after his comment, trying your best not to look at Anthony until Mr. Demrick is officially gone because you can imagine his features are clearly expressing his thoughts regarding that last comment. Once both of them are out of sight, you finally look at him.

"What is wrong with you?" you snapped almost immediately. "I'm glad Mr. Demrick is a patient and understanding man! He could've easily decided to leave the very instant you walked through that door demanding to have a word with me."

"I think he's captivated enough, my dear. I doubt you'll ever get rid of him," he replies, evidently disgusted by the thought of him.

"I don't intend to get rid of him. And do not call me that again."

"Why not? I've always called you that."

"That was before I met Mr. Demrick. Now, it is completely inappropriate."

"Oh, please. It's not like you're already his wife."

"But I will be soon," you point out. He's quiet after that, which gives you room to continue talking. "You must understand that a married woman cannot have other men calling her such things."

"So am I supposed to start addressing you like you're nothing but a stranger? Or perhaps you'd like me to already start calling you Mrs. Demrick? Is that how things will go? You marry this insufferable man and I have to just accept the fact that I no longer have my best friend?"

"I don't know what else you want me to say," you mutter, feeling like you could cry any minute now. "This was going to happen sooner or later."

"It was never supposed to be this way," he sighs, and your soul aches for him when you notice the way he's looking at you. Defeated, exhausted, disappointed, frustrated. You've never seen this particular mixture of emotions reflected in his eyes before.

"And how exactly it was supposed to be?"

Anthony was quiet, too quiet for your liking. You see his hesitation once again and you brace yourself to hear yet another confirmation of the fact that you're nothing but a friend. It doesn't matter that he glances at you from across the room like he can't help himself. It doesn't matter that all the Bridgerton siblings have made insinuations about you and Anthony's relationship. It's all in your head, because you're nothing but a friend.

In a surprising turn of events, you watch as he takes a few steps closer to you. He's cautious of every move, not wanting to scare you– or himself. The beat of your heart speeds up and your hands shake slightly when he's finally in front of you.

You look up at him like a deer coming face to face with a hunter, but in this case you're unable to run away for your life. He's dangerously close to you, gently moving his hand up to touch your face.

The second his fingers brush against your cheek, a shiver travels down your spine and you can't help but close your eyes because his touch is absolutely heavenly. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when his digits trace down your neck until his hand settles there, holding you with his fingers behind your ear and his thumb still caressing the skin of your face.

"It should go like this," he whispers, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you with such adoration, you were certain your legs could betray you any second now and completely give in, causing you to fall straight to the ground.

He leans slightly closer after seconds of just contemplating you, and even though you closed your eyes again, feeling his nose brushing against yours, you're able to snap out of your trance before he could actually kiss you.

"It's not right..." you're able to say, pulling back from him but not nearly enough. He's still very much holding you.

"It is, my dear. I can tell you wish for this as badly as I do."

"Please, Anthony..." you try, but your body betrays you when your hand is resting on his bicep.

"I've always adored the way my name sounds when it's you the one calling me," he confesses, and your stomach fills with butterflies.

You realize he's leaning closer again, but before he can do so you manage to gather all traces of self-control that were almost stripped from you to move back, setting free of his touch.

Anthony stands there, absolutely confused and heartbroken, and is right then when you can't keep your tears in any longer.

"I'm afraid it is too late," you mutter. This has got to be the most painful thing you'll ever have to do. "I'm getting engaged soon."

"But you're not anyone's yet. There's still time if you haven't accepted any proposals."

"Please, don't make this any harder than it should be," you sob, wiping your tears away.

"Darling–"

"Believe me, no one would want this more than me," you interrupted. "You have no idea how many times I've found myself fantasizing about this very moment. For you to say all of this, to be yours forever..." Tears continue to roll down your cheeks and the sight is too much for Anthony to endure, as his own eyes are starting to fill with tears as well. "But it is not possible anymore. I'm sorry, I really am. I won't ask you to understand or accept my decision, but I'd appreciate that you can at least respect it."

"I won't. I refuse to let you marry someone else when we both know we belong together."

"Anthony, Mr. Demrick–"

"You still can't even call your future husband by his own name?"

You sigh, frustrated. "Charlie will become my husband. I don't doubt that he'll be an excellent companion, and that you'll find someone else in time. Soon enough, we'll be nothing but a memory."

"Is that really what you want?" he asks, and your heart sinks when you notice his voice breaking slightly.

You take a few seconds to answer. Of course that's not what you want. You want Anthony to be your husband. You'll always want him and him only. But it's already too late for any of that.

Feeling more heartbroken than ever before, you have to look back at Anthony and fight the urge to run to his arms. "Yes. And I also want you to leave."

Anthony was barely keeping it together, not wanting to cry in front of you. He's once again taking a few steps closer to you, but stops at a reasonable distance to grab your hand to kiss it. "Very well, my lady," he says with a quick bow of his head. "I apologize for wasting so much of your time. Let me assure you, I'll never bother you again."

He let your hand go and immediately turned to the door to leave. As soon as you no longer hear his footsteps, you fall to your knees and allow yourself to cry, feeling like the sorrows from this conversation will haunt you for the rest of your days.

Knowing Mr. Demrick and your mother could be here any minute, you decided to stand up from the ground as soon as you could to lock yourself in your room, where you could be away from everyone for a while until you feel ready to go downstairs and pretend you're content with this life that you've chosen for yourself today.

You really know you shouldn't, as you've played a part just as big as his in the downfall of everything you could've had together, but you can't help it as you curse Anthony for taking so long. You curse him for deciding to do something about his affection for you when it's far too late. And most importantly, you curse him because despite knowing it's over, you are certain that there's nothing you can do to ever get over your feelings for him.

As soon as you realize you're being unfair by putting all the blame on him, you also curse yourself for being as blind and coward as he was. And you curse life itself while you're at it, because you feel like making everyone and everything responsible for not being able to live the life that you wanted.

―

It's been a few days after the last time you and Anthony spoke. Just days, but it has felt like years and years without him. He hasn't reached out to you, and you couldn't deny that not having him around was absolute torture. There was no greater pain than this.

But you were hopeful that you could see him again at tonight's ball. It was all you could think about as you were getting ready.

"You look lovely, sister," the youngest of your family says, watching as one of the maids is finishing with your hair. "I can't wait to join all of you next season!"

"Thank you, my dearest," you smile at her. "I cannot wait for that either. Perhaps I can help you choose your dress and do your hair for your first ball."

"Yes, please!"

Your youngest sister stayed in your room with you until it was time for everyone to leave. Your father waited by the door while your mother put all of your siblings in line to check their appearance and make sure everyone was looking flawless.

Like the Bridgertons, your family was also quite large. Your older sister is already married so she no longer lives with you, but your parents still have a handful of children to take care of. Your two older brothers haven't married yet and neither have you. There's also your little sister, who's debuting next season, and your baby brother who's barely ten years old.

To this day, you have no idea how they were able to handle the chaos that six children can bring. For that, you admire them deeply.

Once your mother made sure everything was in order, you and your brothers followed her and your father to the carriage. They start a conversation, but you're barely paying any attention, as Anthony is keeping your head occupied again.

Eventually, you reach the residence where the ball's taking place and the five of you make your way inside. As all of you are standing outside the doors of the hall where the event is taking place, you feel a hand reaching out to grab yours. You turn around to look at your mother staring at you with a sympathetic smile.

"I'm so sorry, Mama," you say out of nowhere, though it's practically the only thing you've been able to say to her lately.

"You made the right choice, dear," she reassures you. "Are you ready?"

You nod, inhaling deeply before your mother lets go of you, standing with your father as they wait for you to take the first step. As soon as all of you are entering the room, you notice everyone staring your way, their eyes still filled with expectancy and excitement.

They still believe you're going to marry Mr. Demrick.

You quickly scan the room as you walk down the stairs, the familiar feeling in your stomach appearing when you spot Anthony along with his siblings, his eyes never once leaving you. Despite everything that has happened, he still looks at you like you're the only person in that room.

Your parents go off one way to mingle with other parents attending the event while your siblings scatter around the ballroom to greet their friends and find possible matches.

Having a chance to talk to Anthony was the only reason you decided to attend. Still, you didn't know how and when it'd be okay for you to approach him. Things didn't end on the best of terms, so it's normal for you to have your doubts.

Instead of immediately approaching him, you walk around the room, never losing sight of him. You couldn't help but smile to yourself the first time you catch him looking around the room, unsuccessful to locate you.

"I was hoping to see you tonight," you hear Daphne's voice next to you, sending you back to reality. "You look as beautiful as ever."

"Thank you, so do you."

Your friend smiles at you, briefly looking to where you previously were. "Are you looking for someone?"

"No, not at all," you immediately shake your head, imitating her smile.

"I apologize for what I'm about to say. I don't believe it is the time nor place, but I cannot hold myself back," she says with obvious concern as her smile is replaced with a frown. "My brother told me everything that happened the other day. I don't think I'll ever be able to express how sorry I am."

"Oh, Daphne, that's really not necessary..."

"But I think it is. As ashamed as this makes me, I'm afraid I was the one responsible for his actions."

"What do you mean?"

"I couldn't help but notice the way you two look at each other, or the way you smile when you're together. Believe me, I've never seen my dear brother so infatuated with anyone else before. To see you slip away from him and him doing nothing about it was not only painful, but it angered me enough to intervene," she explains. "After much convincing to do, I finally made him realize he needed to do something about his feelings. Evidently, I stood out of line and got myself involved in something I never should have, and for that I'm terribly sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong. I know you had good intentions. There's absolutely nothing to forgive."

Daphne reaches out for your hands, relief evident in her features. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to talk to me again. You had all the right to do so, but I'm happy to see I was mistaken."

"I would never do such a thing."

She nodded, glad to know you two are still friends. "Well, with that situation out of the way, allow me to say I'm still very happy about you and Mr. Demrick. My love for my brother won't change the fact that I support your decision entirely."

You debated whether or not to say something, but the hesitation quickly slipped your mind when you looked at Daphne. She's been a great friend, you know there's nothing wrong with confessing this news to her.

She looks a bit confused when you grab her arm to guide her to a corner of the room, as far away from other people as possible. "I appreciate your words, but I'm afraid Mr. Demrick and I are no longer courting."

"Really? Did my imprudence make him change his mind?" she asks, worried she was to blame for this.

"Not at all. He actually proposed to me that very same evening."

"And...you said no?"

"I couldn't marry him, Daphne," you sighed. You'll never forgive yourself from breaking a good man's heart in the way you did with him, but deep down you knew it was the right thing to do. "I couldn't doom him to spend the rest of his life with a woman that doesn't love him the way he deserves."

"I don't judge you for it. My Mama has always taught us that marriage should be formed out of love. It's the only way a union like this can work," you friend offers, immediately wanting to show her support.

"If anything, my dear friend, I should be thanking you for your intervention," you quickly add. "If you never had that chat with your brother, I would've been engaged to a different man by now."

"I...Oh my, are you–?"

"I was as much of a fool as him. I could've said something a long time ago and yet I remained silent. And when he went to my house to give us a chance, I was once again deciding not to do a thing about my feelings. It was only when he left that I realized I made a terrible mistake."

Daphne is once again reaching for your hands, looking more excited than ever after your words. "You have no idea how pleased I am to hear you say all of this."

"You don't think it's too late, do you? I came here to talk to him, after all."

"No, no, not at all! He was devastated when he came back, I've never seen him like that in my life. We got to talk a little– and it's probably best if he's the one who confesses his true feelings in detail to you personally, but there's no doubt in my mind that from everything he said to me, he's deeply, madly and truly in love with you."

"I assure you I love him just as much."

"I don't doubt it either. And I think I speak for all my family when I say there's no one else we would like to be Anthony's wife but you."

"That makes me so happy to hear," you say with obvious excitement. Even Daphne looked like she could start crying any second. "Should I go talk to him now?"

"Please, I'm sure you can't wait any longer! He's over there, with Benedict and Colin."

"I shall tell you how it goes then."

"It'll go wonderful," she assures you, giving you one last smile before she allows you to leave.

Every second of that walk towards Anthony felt like centuries. Your mind spins with all the possible scenarios and everything you're going to say to him, but by the time you're in front of the three siblings your mind is completely blank.

"Gentlemen," was all you could say. The three of them immediately greet you with a quick bow. You notice Benedict and Colin exchanging looks, while Anthony's eyes are fixated on you. "I'd like to have a word with you– alone, if that's okay."

"Of course, my lady," was all he said.

"Oh my, you could cut the tension with a knife," Colin says suddenly. Anthony is so focused on you he barely acknowledges his comment.

"Shush, brother!" Benedict quickly warns, lightly pushing his little brother so he would start walking. "Excuse us," he smiled your way, starting to follow Colin.

You and Anthony are finally alone, but the people around you are still bothering you. "Is it okay if we go outside for a walk?"

"If it's okay with you," he says, a bit confused at first since you two had apparently agreed that you must keep your distance.

Anthony follows you to the gardens in complete silence. The music and chatter could still be heard. You were glad to realize it was only the two of you outside.

"What is it that you wanted to say to me?" he immediately asks, starting to walk next to you.

"I wanted to apologize for everything that happened."

"No need. Like you said, you made your choice and I'll have to respect it."

"It was the wrong choice. I see that now."

He was a bit surprised to hear that, but agreed with you nonetheless. "I'm afraid I can't say otherwise. At least I hope you find comfort in the fact that Mr. Demrick will be a fine husband, as you so fervently claim."

The two of you have reached a part of the garden that surrounds the two of you with large hedges decorated with beautiful flowers. It was then that you stopped walking and turned to look at him, knowing no one would be able to see or interrupt you here.

"I wanted to let you know that Mr. Demrick proposed and I said no," you blurted out simply, not wanting to keep it from him any longer.

"Why?" was all he could say.

"Because," you say, and this time it was painfully obvious.

Anthony couldn't believe your revelation at first, which would explain why he didn't move from his spot at first. As the realization of it all starts to sink in, he immediately walks closer to you and grabs your face with his hands. This time, you let him touch you as your hands move up to place them above his own.

"You're not marrying him?" he asks, barely above a whisper, still not entirely believing it. He really thought he had lost you forever.

You shake your head, unable to hold back your smile any longer. "There's only one man I'd like to marry."

Anthony smiles wider than ever after your comment and he's not able to control himself any longer, immediately closing the space between the two of you as he kisses you.

His kiss is everything you expected and more. So gentle, yet so passionate. It makes you feel like you're the most delicate thing in the entire world, but he must take a taste, so he does eagerly, yet carefully.

The moment doesn't last as much as you expected as he's abruptly pulling away. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have done that."

He takes a step back but he's gladly surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck to stop him. "Don't," you immediately say, "I want you close."

"I really shouldn't, my dear," he insisted, but you can tell it takes everything in him not to kiss you again at that very same moment.

"Is that so?" you tease him, inching just enough. "So you won't continue to kiss me? Not even if I'm so clearly desperate for you to do so?"

He's really trying to remind himself to be a gentleman. "I don't...it's not appropriate."

"Alright, them. It's perfectly fine, Mr. Bridgerton," you promptly agree, moving back from him entirely as you start walking away from him. "Perhaps we should go back then, before anyone notices our absence."

You're barely able to turn around to face him before he's one again in front of you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss.

This time, the kiss is anything but gentle. His tongue explores your mouth with a hunger completely unknown to you as his hands explore your body. The hand previously holding the back of your neck trails your collarbone before it explores further down, cupping one of your breasts while the other holds you close to his body, resting dangerously close to your ass.

His lips move down to your jaw until they settle on the skin of your neck. You close your eyes as you enjoy the way he explores you, a few moans escaping past your lips that only seem to encourage him further.

"Anthony," you whisper into the darkness of the night, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he kisses all over your neck.

"You're such a delight, my love," he mutters against your skin. "You drive me absolutely mad."

He moves back to your lips now, your mind clouded with desire for him and making it impossible for you to think of anything else other than how badly you need him to continue to touch you and kiss you. You could never get tired of this.

But much to your disappointment, he's pulling away from you again shortly after. His forehead rests against yours as both of you are gasping for air. You open your eyes when he's no longer leaning against you, just to catch him looking down at you with a smile.

"You're so beautiful," he comments, one of his fingers tracing your lower lip. "I could kiss these lips all day if I could."

"And I'd have no complaints about that."

He chuckles after your comment before taking a second to contemplate your beauty under the moonlight. "I deeply regret wasting so much time we could've spent as husband and wife."

"We have many years to make amends for that."

"Is that so?" he asks with a smile, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close.

"Well, that is if you ask for my hand."

"We'll go back to the ball and I'll talk to your father right away."

You fake to be offended by his comment. "Without asking for my opinion on the matter, Lord Bridgerton?"

"Forgive me, how rude of me," he follows along with your theatrics, but you immediately notice the shift in his eyes before he continues. They look softer than ever and shine as bright as all the stars in the sky combined. And you feel warm, at peace, so loved by the man standing before you. "My dearest, from the moment I met you, I knew we were destined to be together. You not only captivated me with your beauty, but with everything that you are. And as I started to know you, you kept proving me right. I saw it in the way you'd stay practicing your music for hours with such intent and passion. I saw it in the way you care so deeply about the ones fortunate enough to have you in their lives. I saw it in the way my mother instantly adored you, and how Hyacinth wouldn't stop asking me to invite you over so she could play with you. There's no doubt in my mind that you are the one for me."

You were completely speechless, absolutely mesmerized by his words. He takes a moment to gently wipe a few tears falling down your cheeks. He has always said to you how he's terrible at things like this, yet here he is proving himself wrong.

"If all previous words hold any room for confusion, allow me to clear it all right away. I've been yours from the moment we met and I couldn't possibly be more in love with you. And there's nothing that would make me happier than spending the rest of my life with you," he continues, finally taking a step back to grab both of your hands as he kneels in front of you. "Would you make me the honor of accepting me as your husband?"

You couldn't stop smiling at that point, immediately nodding after his question. "Yes. Now and forever, it'll always be yes."

Anthony kisses both of your hands before standing up to pull you in for a hug. "It pleases me to hear you accept. For a moment, I feared the tears were a bad sign."

You laugh at his little joke before breaking the hug. "Perhaps we should get back. I'm afraid we've been gone for quite a while now."

"That shouldn't be much of a problem now that we're engaged. I shall ask to have a word with your father as soon as we get back– and ask my mother for her ring."

"Is it okay if I inform Daphne?"

"I have absolutely no objections if you decide to announce the news to every person inside that ballroom, my love. Let everyone know you'll be the next Viscountess. Nothing would make me happier."

He offers his arm and you immediately accept it, starting to walk back to the ball with him– your future husband. At that very moment, you've sworn you've never been happier.

[munsonsmixtapes]

hi, for ur 1k thing

anthony, enemies to lovers and the 4th prompt? sorry if this is wrong i dont use tumblr a lot

You did it exactly right, lovely!

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

prompt used: “You’re a terrible influence.”

You had hated Anthony Bridgerton since the moment you laid eyes on him. Maybe it was the way he was the way his hair laid, or maybe it was the way he always knew how to push your buttons. Whatever it was, he just really got under your skin in a way that nobody else did. And you did the same to him. He absolutely despised you and the way that you spoke to him like you had no regard for his feelings whatsoever. And you didn’t.

Anytime you were together, you had to be separated because of how easy it was for you to argue. It was as if you couldn’t agree on anything. Every conversation was drenched in hatred, neither of you having a single kind thing to say to each other. No one knew what had initially caused the strife, but what they did know was that you absolutely could be not be in the same room together.

It was the start of the season and Queen Charlotte had thrown a ball in honor of it. Little did you know that she had her eye on you for her pick as the diamond. There was something about you that intrigued her. You always spoke your mind no matter what and that was something she admired. You seemed mature for your age, well, other than the silly feud with the Bridgerton boy, but she could easily nip that in the bud.

She watched you dance across the floor with the man who had asked you. You were all smiles as the two of you laughed together, trying to shush each other when you got too loud. Her gaze then moved to Anthony who was across the room, practically burning holes into the two of you because of how hard he was staring. Ah, so he was jealous.

Perhaps Anthony was jealous, but he’d never admit that. He’d never admit how you drove him absolutely crazy. How he wanted to pull you into the nearest room and have his way with you because he couldn’t help himself. Sure, he didn’t like you, but that was irrelevant when it came to his physical attraction to you. That was all it was. As soon as he was done with you, he knew the feeling would go away. At least, he hoped it would.

But as far as you were concerned, there was no attraction to Anthony whatsoever. You had always hated him and would continue to do so for the rest of your life. So what if he had hair that you wanted to run your fingers through? So what if his eyes were the most beautiful shade of brown you had ever seen? So what if you dreamed of his lips on yours every night. It wasn’t like you were actually going to act on your fantasies. Perhaps you had let his incredibly good looks overshadow just how rude he was.

You looked over your partner’s shoulders to look at Anthony only to see his eyes already on yours. If looks could kill, you definitely would have been dead. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked like he was seconds away from marching over to you to have some words.

As soon as the song ended, he did just that, practically flying across the room because of how fast he was moving. He got to you just as your partner bid you goodbye with a bow. You turned around to get some lemonade when you almost bumped into Anthony, practically jumping out of your skin as you did so. You hadn’t even noticed he was there.

You looked up at him, seeing his eyes fill with a fire that was unrecognizable. He looked almost angry. But not the kind of angry that he usually was when it came to you. This one wasn’t nearly as intense. Without a word, he reached out and grabbed your hand, placing it on his shoulder before resting his on the small of your back before joining your free hands together. The two of you moved around the room with the other couples while you looked at anyone but him, his gaze still fixed on you.

The whole thing was so strange. Just days ago, he told you that you hated you with everything in him and now the two of you were dancing together? He hadn’t even asked either. He just took your hand and before you knew it, you were moving about the room to the music.

“What are we doing?” You finally asked and Anthony looked at you, confused, as if he didn’t understand your question.

“Dancing,” he said with a chuckled even though he knew exactly what you were asking.

“I mean, why are we dancing? You don’t like me.”

“Who said that?” An amused smirk kicked up at the corner of his mouth and you hated how cute you thought it was. How pink his lips were and how much you wanted them to be spittle between yours.

“You did? The other day. You told me that you hated me with everything that you were.” He had forgotten he said that. And honestly, that was probably the meanest thing he had ever said. But he didn’t hate you. Not at all. In fact, he was now realizing that he loved you. Perhaps the thing he hated was the fact that he’d never have you because you really did seem to hate him. It was clear in the way that you looked at him. Like he was the scum of the earth.

“I don’t hate you,” he said as he leaned down so that his lips were right by your ear. “In fact, all I can think about is how beautiful you look tonight. And just how much I want to see what you’re hiding underneath your dress.” Your cheeks burned at his words. Your skin was heating up as you imagined that exact thing: Anthony pulling off your dress and having his way with you like you had secretly been wanting for months now.

“You’re a terrible influence.”

“And you love it.”

If you had liked him and he had liked you, then what had the feud really been about? Was it the result of all of your pent up desire that was making you both so angry with each other? Well, no. At one point, you had actually hated him. There was just something that you couldn’t pinpoint that rubbed you the wrong way and now…well the dreams you had about him leaving Mayfair or falling off his horse were all now replaced with images of his lips on yours, his hands roaming all over your body.

You were getting hot, your face flushed as your mind with the images again. It was all wrong. So wrong. You weren’t supposed to be thinking about him in that way and if anyone could have seen your thoughts, they would surely have scolded for it.

You let go of Anthony and he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows because you seemed nervous and the song hadn’t even finished. Had he done something wrong? Had he embarrassed you? Whatever he had done, he wished he could have taken it back right then. He wanted to fix it.

“I’m sorry, Viscount Bridgerton, but I must go,” you curtsied. “Thank you for the lovely dance.” And with that, you made a dash for the garden, desperate for some fresh air and to get away from Anthony and your feelings for him.

Because if he wasn’t in your sight, if he wasn’t touching you then your feelings would cease…wouldn’t they? That was what you were hoping anyway. Out of sight out of mind as far as you were concerned.

But on your way to the garden, his words kept repeating in your head on a loop, echoing over and over. It was driving you mad, but you also didn’t want it to stop. You wanted him to whisper even more scandalous things into your ear, all of the things he wanted to do to you.

You entered the garden, rushing down the steps to get further into, hoping that no one was out there and that no one would find you either. You just need to be alone for a moment to clear your head. To catch your breath since Anthony seemed to have been stolen with his shocking words.

You didn’t care that it was pouring rain outside. That was far preferable to staying in the ballroom. It suddenly felt stuffy in there with it being filled with people. You didn’t know why you were making excuses when it was perfectly acceptable for you to tell Anthony that you didn’t want to see him. You didn’t care if he upset him. You hated him. You hated him. And that was the only feeling you’d ever have for him.

The rain poured down even more and you looked back just in time to see Anthony chasing after you and hurried down the steps, trying to move slowly since they seemed slippery. But he was gaining on you and you needed to get away as fast as possible.

“Leave me alone,” you called out, but he seemed to have not heard you. Either that or he was ignoring you. You were convinced that it was the latter.

Just as you were getting off the last step, your foot slipped. You let out a gasp and closed your eyes, bracing yourself for hitting the ground, but you never did. You opened your eyes and Benedict was staring down at you, a look of worry on his face.

“Falling for me, hm?” He asked, his signature teasing smirk forming on his lips. You were falling for him. And fast. And the way that he looked drenched in the rain that had fallen from the sky made you feel something that was foreign to you. He was…beautiful.

“Shut up,” you pushed his hands off of you as he helped you back on your feet. “Let’s go inside before we get sick.”

“No,” he grabbed onto your wrist and pulled you back. “I need to talk to you. Right now.”

“About what, Anthony?” You asked, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“About…us.” You paused. What could he have meant by that? Unless…no. There was absolutely no way.

You backed away from him, getting further into the rainfall, but that was the least of your worries. All you wanted to do was run. But you couldn’t. You tried to get away, but it was as if your feet were stuck, glued to where you were standing.

“I have despised you since the day we met,” Anthony said as he stepped forward, getting closer to you.

“Anthony-“

“I’m not done,” he interrupted you, stepping forward until you were only inches away from each other. He reached up and moved one of your soaked wet pieces of hair from your face, his hand resting on your cheek.

“I have liked you for a long time, but convinced myself that I hated you because I thought it would have been easier. Turns out it wasn’t.” He rested his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you to him so that your bodies were flush to each other.

“I don’t hate you. In fact, I feel the exact opposite.” You felt like all of the air had been sucked out of your lungs. Could it actually be possible that Anthony Bridgerton loved you? Was this not what you had been dreaming of for months? Then why were you so scared?

You stared at him, your mouth falling open as his confession. Looking into his eyes, seeing how he ran after you and was willing to confess his feelings to you in the pouring rain, you decided that you had no choice to believe him.

Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed onto his coat and pressed your lips to his in a rushed kiss. At first, he gasped into your mouth, be he quickly melted into you, his lips moving with yours.

Your arms moved to his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible, wanting to have your lips attached to his forever now that you had a little taste. You knew he had much more experience than you did, but you seemed to be leading the whole thing. You moved his head this way and that so you could have more access to his lips and he was quick to comply, wanting to do whatever you asked.

“In case it wasn’t obvious, I love you too,” you smiled against his lips. He laughed at that, lifting you in his arms and spinning you around, giggles escaping your lips as well. That was a sound that Anthony decided that he wanted to hear every day for the rest of his life.

It was so pretty, infectious. His favorite song. As he set you down on the ground, he made the decision that he was going to get a ring the first thing in the morning and propose to you. There was no way in hell that he was letting you slip through his fingers once again.

[natti-ice]

two words for you: anthony. cockwarming.

18+ mdni

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK!!

Anthony sinking deep inside your warm wetness after a long day just to feel connected to you, his arm wrapped around your waist as he gently caresses your abdomen, his hard chest pressed against your back. You feel him stretching you out perfectly as you adjust to his size you let out a soft moan and reach down and hold his hand, he hums softly and whispers into your ear “I’ve missed you so much, my dear.”

[targaryenluvs]

This gives me dark!Anthony vibes, and I thought I’d send it to you bc you’re the only dark!Bridgerton blog I know

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLaJTb74/

OOH!! i see the vision babe.

no cause homeboy was always staring and snarling like some rabid ass dog and i loved it. and it also just makes sense to me for them to be a bit dark when it comes to their girls since back then it was sort of expected no? like to ‘protect her honour’ i mean these idiots would duel with guns over it??

[marie-swriting]

I Really Care About You - Anthony Bridgerton

Masterlist

Emails I Can't Send Masterlist

Summary : When Anthony sees you in the arms of another man, he remembers how he sabotaged your relationship because of his feelings.

Warnings : set in 1807 so Anthony is 23, angst, sad ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word Count : 2.8k

French Version on Wattpad

French version on Tumblr

Song mentioned : Piano Concerto No.20, K466 by Mozart

Songs inspiration : When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars and Decode by Sabrina Carpenter

Leaning on the wall, Anthony Bridgerton is looking at you from afar. As he sees you dancing, a smile on your face, he can’t help but do the same. He knows how much you love balls, how much you love dancing at the rhythm of the strings. When your dancing partner makes you sway, Anthony feels a memory coming back to him.

It was two years ago. Anthony had started courting you a few months before that. You knew him only by name but you had been intrigued by him. At first, he wasn’t opening up to you, only giving you a few moments of his times, but bit by bit, you had started to grow closer to each other. As you got to know each other, you had discovered a new side of the serious man who was crumbling under responsibilities. Even if you felt like he hadn’t shown you his whole self yet, you were already thrilled to see he had broken his shell a bit with you. Therefore, you had let your feelings take over, allowing yourself to fall in love with Anthony Bridgerton. Besides being a good catch, like your father wished, you felt deep down you’d be well with him. There was no doubt, you could picture yourself being with Anthony forever.

So, at every ball, you were dancing with him as much as you could. Of course, you would be dancing with other men as well. After all, you loved dancing with anyone, even if the Viscount was your favourite partner.

That night, Anthony had invited you for the first dance of the night. When the first notes of Mozart's Piano Concerto No.20, K466 could be heard, you had started to waltz, your eyes deep in his just like his were in yours. If a stranger could’ve seen you, they would’ve thought you were newly weds as your gazes were full of love. Anthony couldn’t stop admiring your beauty. Everytime he thought you couldn’t be prettier than the day before, you proved him wrong. As he was a bit more under your spell, he couldn’t help but share his thoughts with you.

“You are radiant, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Thank you, Lord Bridgerton. You are handsome as well.”

“Not as much as you. Your dress is beautiful. You truly are breathtaking.”

“Be careful, Mister Bridgerton, people could be mistaken and think you want to ask for my hand.” You laughed, trying to hide your discord.

“Would you say ‘yes’ ?” He genuinely asked you.

“First, you shall talk about it with my father, then I will give you my answer.” You answered with a smile.

“After our dance, I shall talk with him.”

“I really care about you, My Lord.” You admitted.

“As do I, My Lady.”

At that specific moment, you both had only one wish, kissing each other, but the presence of the good Londonian society prevented you from it. You only felt his lips on your right hand clothed with a white glove when the dance was over. His eyes hadn’t left yours when he softly kissed your hand.

But now, it’s Lord Egerton who is kissing your hand with as much tenderness as he did two years ago. Anthony looks away when he sees your face brighten at this touch. Anthony is too lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice the group of gentlemen coming toward him, Lord Egerton is among them. He only realises their presence when he hears your dance partner making an announcement with a proud smile.

“Lady Y/L/N has accepted my proposal yesterday.”

“Congratulations !”

“You two look happy together.” The men state.

“We are getting married in a few months and I cannot wait. I have never felt that way before.”

Anthony says something polite before his eyes land on you. From afar, he sees you talking to other women. You removed a glove to show your engagement ring. You’re deep in the description of your proposal when you feel a gaze on you. Quickly, you glance around and find Anthony. You see him observing you with a sad look. For a second, your heart feels heavy but you pull yourself together and put your attention back on your friends. You try to get Anthony out of your head, reminding yourself he’s the one to blame for this situation. He doesn’t have the right, with one look, to make you feel guilty because you’re moving on while he’s the one who ruined everything.

You had been engaged with Anthony for three months and still madly in love. Your wedding wasn’t planned for another six months. Your mind was always set on wedding planning. There were only a few moments during the week where you’d allow yourself to do other things. That day, you were doing needlepoint, you had forgotten about it since Anthony’s proposal. You were putting the needle back in the cloth when you got interrupted by one of your servants, telling you about Anthony’s arrival. You allowed him in. You put your embroidery on the table next to you and you stood up to greet your fiancé. When he arrived, your smile grew bigger like it always did when he was in the same room as you.

“Lord Bridgerton, I was not expecting you today.”

“I know, my apologies, but I had to talk to you.” He informed with a serious expression and your smile left your face.

“Of course, is something the matter ?”

“May we sit down ?”

“Please.”, you agreed as you showed the couch and sat down, “My Lord, you are worrying me, are you well ?” You questioned when he had sat down next to you.

“What I have to tell you is not easy, Lady Y/L/N. I… I wish to break our engagement.”

Following his announcement, you stayed silent for a second, wanting to be sure you understood correctly. When you realised you hadn’t mistaken, you opened your mouth several times, hesitating before succeeding to talk.

“What ?”

“I do not wish to marry anymore. I wish to wait a few more years. I am sorry.”

“I do not understand, Mister Bridgerton. Have I done something wrong ? If it’s the case, I apologise.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong.” Anthony reassured you quickly, making you frown.

“Then why did you change your mind ? I am sure we can find a solution. Lord Bridgerton, I care about you, I can wait a few years if it is what you really wish for.”

“I cannot ask you for this. I will not change my mind.” He affirmed, avoiding your gaze.

“Can you at least give me an explanation ?” You pleaded with teary eyes.

“I made myself a promise and if I marry you, I know I will betray it.”

“What promise ?”

“To not have a marriage of love.” Anthony stated, confusing you a bit more.

“I do not understand you.”

“I am the Viscount Bridgerton, I need to find a woman who can be the perfect Viscountess, like you, but I do not want feelings. But these last few weeks… I realised I loved you. I am sorry to hurt you this way.”

It took you a second to assimilate his words. Finally understanding what he said, you stood up from the couch, stunned. You put yourself in front of him, your confusion visible on your face.

“Are you really saying you love me so much you do not want to marry me ? What do you have against marriage of love ? Don't you think it is better to share your life with someone you love ?”

“I do not wish for this.”

You stopped talking, thinking about what this new information would mean for you. When it finally hit you, you stood up, your breath quickening. 

“Do you have any idea of how humiliating it is ?”, you questioned rhetorically, a tear rolling down your cheek, “Everyone is expecting our wedding and no one will understand because I do not understand myself.”

“I will take care of the rumours, if that is your fear.”

“No matter what you will say, people will think something is wrong with me because you decided to break our engagement.” You exclaimed, emphasising on the pronoun ‘you’.

“I am deeply sorry, Lady Y/L/N.”

“I do not want your apologies. I want a clear explanation, Lord Bridgerton.”, you retorted, frustration growing bigger, “I would have never thought our feelings would be a valid reason to stop our courtship. Well, our feelings, I shall say my feelings. If you really loved me, you would not be doing that.”

“I assure you that I really care about you.”

“How do you want me to believe you ? You were only interested in me because you saw me as a young woman from a good family, matching the criterias that are expected from me as a wife. They always told me if I was polite, considerate and attentive, I would have no problems finding a husband and yet, even when I match those meaningless standards, I am not enough. What have I done to deserve that ?” You cried, looking up.

“Even if you do not want to, believe me when I say it is not your fault. You are good enough. More than enough, even. The real reason I refuse a marriage of love, it is because I do not want to be the cause of pain.” He clarifies.

“The more you explain, the more I am lost.”

“After my father’s death, my mother was devastated.”, he started to explain, standing up in front of you, “She was barely there for me and my siblings. I had to take care of everything instead of her. I do not want the woman I will marry to experience a similar situation. I do not want to be the reason for a future heartbreak.

“You cannot let your father’s death prevent you from loving.”, you said, losing a little bit more hope, “Even if I could never understand it, I know his death affected you but you cannot lock your heart away. Anthony Bridgerton, I am begging you to reconsider your promise.”

“I will not do it.” He repeated, sure of himself.

“Very well then.” You let your anger win over you and give him back his ring.

“I deeply apologise.”

“That is enough.”, you interrupted him, angry, “I do not want to hear anything anymore. Leave, Lord Bridgerton. Please, show him the door.” You ordered the servant closer to the entrance.

You didn’t make sure he heard your order, too shaken from your conversation. You left the room, trying not to cry even more. You went upstairs, wanting to close yourself in your bedroom. When you arrived, you heard Anthony walking through the doorstep. When you walked in your room, you collapsed on the floor, heartbroken. You couldn’t believe it was real. You hadn’t prepared yourself for this discussion when you had seen him entering. You thought back at his words and tried to find what you could have said to make him change his mind. Maybe you could have avoided this situation if you had found the right words.

Wanting to rest from your dance, you’re drinking some champagne while you’re talking to your fiancé. You had met Henry Egerton the year after your break up with Anthony. You had danced a few times and talked a bit but you still weren’t feeling ready to move on. You were still too busy to analyse your relationship with Anthony, trying to find a flaw to bring him back to you, but it was a lost cause. Only when you understood this, you had accepted to mourn the future you would never have before getting closer to Lord Egerton during this social season.

While you’re talking with your fiancé, you’re telling yourself how lucky you are to have found him. He is not and will never be Anthony but you know you can be happy with him. He proved to you that you deserve to be loved and you’ll forever be grateful to him for that. You’re laughing at one of his jokes, which he alone has the secret, when you look on your left, feeling someone getting closer. Anthony is in front of you with a neutral expression on his face.

“Lady Y/L/N, may I have this dance, please ?” He asks.

“I apologise, My Lord, but I am currently talking with-”

“There is no problem”, Henry interrupts you with a smile, “I need to talk with Lord Featherington anyway. Go dance, dearest.” He affirms walking away.

“Very well, it seems like I have no other reasons to turn you down, Lord Bridgerton.” You state as you put down your glass on a table nearby.

Anthony gives you his arm where you put your hand, like you used to. The familiar contact brings you back two years ago, but you try to stay focused. You bow before getting in position, waiting for the sound of the violins and pianoforte. When Piano Concerto No.20, K466 starts, you’re mentally cursing at the musicians. They really couldn’t have chosen another music ? But for Anthony, this song sounds like a sign. Even if it’s a reminder of a time where you were happy together, it still belongs to you, despite the distance.

Anthony and you start waltzing in silence at first. You don’t even dare to look at him, your eyes searching for your fiancé. You see him talking with the Featherington patriarch, like he said he would. While you’re swaying , you look for another distraction whilst Anthony keeps his eyes on you, appreciating the closeness of your body against his. Most likely for the last time before you’re officially married. However, Anthony doesn’t want this last exchange to be silent.

“We were dancing on this song when I told you I wanted to marry you.” Anthony reminds you.

“What do you want, Lord Bridgerton ?” You ask, dryly.

“I heard about your engagement. I am happy for you, congratulations. He seems to be a good man.” He says genuinely.

“He is, I can assure you. We talked a lot and we are sure we want the same things in our lives.”

“I am sorry I broke up our engagement. Sometimes, I think I should not have done it.”

“Stop it, please.”, you beg him, not wanting to hear anymore, “You cannot tell me this, especially not now. I spent the last couple of years of my life trying to find a solution to sort out our relationship. I spent my days over analysing it, hoping I’d find the signs that could have told me you never wanted a marriage of love, I also searched for a way to make you change your mind. I spent my nights awake trying to understand your sudden change of heart. Now, I wonder why I let your confusion keep me up at night. I’m so tired, Lord Bridgerton. All is done, there is nothing left here to decipher. There is nothing to change. Nothing could have changed what happened. I finally accepted it and walked away from it, something I learned from you. At least, our courtship was not totally vain. So please, do not tell me you regret your choice. It is too late.” You affirm, looking at him in his eyes.

“You are right. It was improper from me. I apologise.”, he states and you sigh with relief, “However, let me say I should not have acted that way. It was not honest on my behalf. I should not have let you hope. Even if, I admit it, I was first interested in you because I knew you would be a perfect Viscountess, my feelings for you were real. I did not show it properly during our courtship but I want you to know it. I would have been lucky to have you by my side. And I know Lord Egerton will be. But above all, I hope he will realise his luck. I hope he will treat you better than I did. I hope he will always be close to you, he will always dance with you, I hope he will give you all of his hours. All the things I could not do, but I should have done. I wish you the best, Y/N.” He says with a light smile.

You keep your eyes on him trying to assimilate his words. It takes you a few seconds before being able to speak with a tender look.

“Despite everything we went through, I hope you know I wish you the same. But above all this, I hope you will find the woman who would make you reevaluate yourself. The one who will make you realise you deserve a life full of love, no matter your fear of pain. I, unfortunately, could not be that woman, but I know she exists. I just hope you will find her before it is too late.

The musicians play the last note so you stop your movements. You both keep looking at each other with regret and remorse visible in your eyes. You bow without breaking eye contact, taking in this last moment in your mind.

“Goodbye, Anthony.” You murmur before walking away from his life.

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[panandinpain0]

Dizzy

I just really wanted to write for Bridgerton after hyperfixating on it for like... a month straight. Uhm... this is really more of an imagine than anything, but I figured it would be a good way to introduce this fandom to my list :)

Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Dizziness (too-tight corset), people act like they did during the- idk- 1800's??

--

(Y/N) stood by the stair banister, watching the room spin around her- or the dancers in front of her, she supposed. The room was bright and filled with noise, but that wasn't why the room was spinning.

Reaching a hand up to her stomach, (Y/N) put her other hand to hold on to the railing with a white-knuckled grip. Her gloves sat in the hand against her stomach. She sucked in deep breaths, trying to be discreet about her immense discomfort.

You see, (Y/N) had recently gotten a new ladies maid, her previous one getting married and moving away. Now, this new maid was wonderful and (Y/N) was already fond of her, but the two were still getting acquainted with the process of her dressing, and poor young Holly had secured (Y/N)'s corset a bit too tight.

Her brow twitched before straightening out again, trying to control her physical grimace. She took in a deep breath and attempted to put on her gloves, face flushed as her gaze darted around the room. Maybe she could escape by asking a nearby servant to bring her carriage. Or perhaps sitting in the garden would help.

All of those plans were wiped from her mind as (Y/N) saw the Viscount Bridgerton approaching her, seemingly intent on starting a conversation with her. Well, if his strong walk and intimidating gaze was any tell.

"Miss (L/N), how are you this evening?" he started confidently, smiling down at her.

Sending a smile up at him as she tried to focus on her breathing and the conversation at the same time, (Y/N) finished tugging on her gloves. "Wonderful, Lord Bridgerton." She cursed herself on her breathlessness.

"May I have this dance?" Anthony bent at the waist and held out his hand, meeting (Y/N)'s eyes expectantly.

Oh how she wished she could say no in this very instance. Not because she thought dancing with Anthony Bridgerton would be unpleasant, but that the dancing itself would put her into further discomfort. Her gaze darted around the room, seeing people staring at the two with suspense. Alas, she could not reject a dance, or she'd be titled many unkind words.

"Yes, my Lord," she finally responded, setting her gloved hand in his. One of her hands was still pressed to her torso, trying to prepare what she was about to go through.

As the dance started Anthony looked down at (Y/N) as she grunted softly, her chest rising with a deep-almost desperate- breath.

"Are you quite alright?" Anthony asked quietly, spinning (Y/N) around in a large motion as the other dancers had done.

"Yes, my Lord..."

"You seem to be out of breath, is just beginning a dance exerting?" he chuckled lightly, his gaze still holding concern for the woman in front of him.

The truth was that Anthony had tried to avoid (Y/N) ever since they had met at the beginning of the season. He had no intention to marry, and he was very busy organizing Daphne's doom, so he had no time for distractions. The distraction in question that had stolen Anthony breath and every thought in his head until he sat; a gaping idiot, staring at a lady like he was twelve again.

He had quickly picked up on her intelligence, not only of everyday things but the philosophical thoughts she often tried to hide. Many thought them unlady-like, as (Y/N) was quick to learn, and if she was to find a husband she would need to keep them in her pocket.

Anthony admired greatly how much (Y/N) cared for her family, so much so that she was desperate to find a husband to set a good path and reflection on her younger sisters. She also knew how much her mother dreamed of her marrying, so she tried to cater to her as well. Not to mention her father and his insistence for a title and money; though all the ladies of the house disregarded him on those thoughts.

But Anthony had given in; he simply could not stay away for any longer. Or rather, his family couldn't bare to hear but a minute more of his obvious pining for something he told himself he couldn't have. Moments before approaching Miss (L/N), Anthony had given himself a lecture, reminding himself of his reasons for not marrying for love, the pain his mother had went through after his father's death. But it didn't matter, not when he belonged standing next to the angel across the room.

With a breathy laugh (Y/N) shook her head at his tease. "No, I just- well, the truth isn't incredibly flattering, I'm afraid," she settled on that answer.

"I assure you, whatever it is, I can take it." Anthony put on a serious look, making (Y/N) smile again. This put a smug smile on Anthony's face, over the moon to be the reason of such a smile.

"Well, you see, I've recently acquired a new ladies maid. Her name is Holly and she's just downright wonderful. But she has tightened my corset far too tight, and I've been lightheaded all evening," (Y/N) revealed, finally letting her grimace show as she released a very shaky breath.

"Oh, my. Then you mustn't be out here dancing with me, it can't feel good," Anthony insisted, walking her off the dance floor mid-dance. He had an arm around her waist, the other on her arm as he guided her to a chair. Some people in the crowd looked offended, but if they had a problem with it he could simply explain how she was light headed.

(Y/N) was now gasping for breath, clutching the edge of the table as she began to experience tunnel vision.

"My Lady, do you need refreshment?" Anthony asked almost desperately, stopping himself from kneeling at her side.

(Y/N) shook her head and held it in her hand, eyes closed as she tried to breath. Anthony brought up his hand and she caught it in her own, clutching it as Anthony quickly pulled her up.

"Where-?" (Y/N) was dazed and confused as Anthony began sneaking her out of the ballroom inconspicuously.

"I think its best if you get some privacy," Anthony said as he held (Y/N) up, hand supporting her waist as his other hand rested on her arm.

(Y/N) just nodded vaguely, holding on to Anthony's hand that rested on her arm and watched as he opened the door. He let her enter first before casting a glance up and down the hall to ensure they hadn't been seen before closing the door behind her. The room they had entered seemed to be the library, shelves lining the walls and an empty fire place around a sitting area.

Her gasps were now very audible, sounding almost frantic as she tugged at her bodice, clawing at the buttons at the back of her dress. Anthony approached her, taking her hands in his own as her back faced him.

"Allow me," he whispered into the cold room, the window cracked open on the far side of the room.

Anthony's fingers worked nimbly at the buttons of her dress, his hands taking the strings of her corset. He, as quickly as possible, untied the strings, allowing the front of her bodice to loosen. She took in a large breath, setting a hand to her chest.

"Thank you so much," (Y/N) sighed, still trying to catch her breath.

"Anytime, my Lady," Anthony whispered back.

(Y/N)'s breath almost stilled as she felt Anthony place a kiss to the back of her head, thumb rubbing softly against the fabric at her waist.

"Anthony?" (Y/N) whispered slowly, eyes flickering closed.

"Yes, (Y/N)," Anthony spoke back huskily, nose brushing against the tip of her ear.

"We should get back to the ball."

Breathing in deeply, hoping to remember how she smelled of lavender and honeysuckle.

"Of course." He let go of her, his touch lingering and leaving a tingling feeling in its wake.

He readjusted her corset, tying it looser this time, before helping her button it back up.

"After you, my Lady," Anthony dramatically bowed, holding open the door for her.

"Thank you, my Lord," (Y/N) giggled as she responded, curtseying before walking past him.

Anthony lingered back, wishing they'd stayed in the library for but a moment longer. What would have happened if she hadn't had stopped him?

End

--

I made it longer!

-Author Max <3

[skyrigel]

Victory indeed || A.B

Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x wife!reader

Plot : You are on your way to steal the mallet of death but Anthony gets there first, change in plans— romancing lord Viscount.

Warning: NSFW content ahead!

Rigel's note🪩 : This is inspired from happily ever after, there's quite blood shed for mallet of death. Yeah Colin is love <3

The last bits of doubt left as you shifted Anthony's arm off your waist, slowly pushing your body down and further till you were out from his grip, he almost looked innocent, sleeping and bed soft, his mouth curled in a dream like smile but you knew better than that. last time Anthony, like lord Viscount he was, stole the pallet from your wardrobe.

And the year prior, Daphne showed her Bridgerton colors, involving the Duke himself in her malice plans.

You couldn't help but smile, thinking your bridgerton were showing up too, the floor was frozen underneath your step but you thought about the victory tommorow, the look on Anthony's face would be priceless, wrapping your cloak around yourself and closing the door soundlessly as you ventured out in the corridor, the moon was high and the air was chill. If inside the Aubrey hall was cold then you weren't up for the chill outside, a shiver ran down your spine as you stepped out in the moonlight, taking the back route, just in case. The shed stood there in the bleak light. You fiddled for keys and it didn't make sense when the wooden door was unlocked, maybe Johnny forgot to lock it, anyway, all more easy. The door creaked in the silence and you couldn't care less, there was nothing between you and your victory black mallet and—

Your breath was knocked out of you as if your lungs were punctured, a gasp of white mist left your mouth at the sight of your husband, leaning idly against the wall.

" I... Anthony?! " You blinked and unblinked and he was still there, smiling.

" What are you doing here wifey ? " He cooed and it didn't help the terror that seized you.

" You knew ! " You hoped it wasn't as shaking like it felt in your throat, Anthony ran a hand through his hair and it all made sense, damn his dreamlike smile, damn you lord Viscount.

" You wound me baby, do you want me to tie you until the game tommorow, tell me, would you like that ? " He smiled all the while, faking a frown as he narrowed his eyes to your silhouette in dark.

" So you would guard the mallet all night ? " You wouldn't let Anthony win this time, it was coming on your pride now, also the love making that followed where he called you all those petty names. The last he called you runner up. No, you would win this time.

" Or I could tie you up, I like that better." Anthony suggested smugly, propping on top of the desk and flashing an erotic display of thigh, change of plans.

" My lord..." You whsipered, all seduction placed in one basket and all smugness was dropped when Anthony's lips parted.

" Do.not." he shuddered but you hit the nerve, moving slowly in your shaking steps, cloak dangling behind you.

" Anthony, these games are absurd. " You stiffled the laugh that burnt your chest, heart heaving and thudding inside your ribs.

It almost didn't work the last time you caught him stealing the mallet, Mrs.Wilson came at a very wrong time.

" It's not working." He assured, to himself mostly but his hand reached for your body all the same, betraying every word he said as he pulled you closer, face mere inches away.

He wrapped his big arms around your waist and cocked your head sideways.

" What about..." You paused, bumping your nose to his cheeks as he sniffed the moon shadow out of you, his lips tried to claim yours but you liked playing games. The ones you could win.

" About what ? " He asked breathless, his long slender fingers undoing the knot in frantic rushed movements. It was no use.

" I was thinking about...we don't have a daughter." You hoped nothing was drowned in the moan that left when Anthony bit at the junction of your neck and shoulder, he looked up with a glint, it was the most sincere set of eyes you had ever seen, also the lustiest.

Anthony could do both, have you screaming his name and worship you all the same.

" Take the mallet...take everything baby. " He kissed you, hard and crashing, like he couldn't get enough, you couldn't get enough and it became too restless for games and victory. Your body oozed with goosebumps and every single thought evaporated like mist and memories.

Anthony dropped the knot and pulled the cloak up from your head and you easily gave in, throwing your hands up as the satin fabric fell on the floor. Anthony hummed in desire.

You felt the cold air circling your body but as soon as Anthony's mouth kissed the exposed skin of you breast, it was gone, nothing mattered than him and his filthy demanding mouth.

" How beautiful you would look with our baby in your belly." He whispered against your skin and you shivered at the sensation.

His palm gripped your hips and lifted you on the desk, turning the dynamics and you cursed under your breath when his unholy fingers pinched your nipple, hard and raw.

" You like that ? " He breathed, undoing buttons of your nightdress like he was made for it, he was merciless sometimes, taking pleasure when you screamed his name and teasing you later, " so needy for me baby ? "

" An.. Anthony." You hoped he heard the plea, his thumb made circles in your inner thigh but never touching where you wanted him the most, " baby.." you buried your face in the crook of his neck and even so, you could hear the smile that crossed him, cocky and devilish.

" Say it wifey, say it nicely with your sweet mouth." He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you back to face him, eyes locked as his head leaned down, his darted his tongue, pink and wet, the wonders he could did with that, he licked your one nipple while the other was tucked between his two fingers, pressing them together and you screamed, almost embarrassed but Anthony liked that, he always did.

" What's the word ? " He looked up smugly, pressing the tip of his nose to your nip, a smile quirking up. Fuck you Anthony!

Your brain short circuited as he tickled more and more and it became too much to bear.

" Plea... please baby, please, please —" he heard the plea and his mouth opened, taking in your soft flesh and humming in delight, kneading the other so it didn't miss his attention. He wasn't biased when it came to your body, giving everything his full attention and torment. You threw your head back at the sensation that vibratated in your body.

You grabbed his hand that glided on your bare thigh to guide him to touch you where you needed him the most, his teeth nibbed, not harder but enough to make your eyes watery as he slapped your hand away.

" You get the mallet, I get what I want, win win Viscountess." He kissed your cheek open mouthed and his desire was pressing hard against you.

" Fuck me." You said, flushed and dazed and Anthony eye's widened before he was back to play all lord and smug.

" You always order me so." He bit his lower lip but you had enough, fuck pall mall, fuck Anthony bridgerton, yes fuck him. Now.

" Fuck me Anthony! " You almost cried, Anthony leaned further, his forehead touching yours as he whispered,

" I wouldn't be able to sto—" don't stop, then.

You kissed him hard and soft, like fireworks wrecking your brain and you tongue traced his lower lip, intoxication wasted you.

He moaned and a strangled noise that you trapped in your mouth escaped, right from his throat.

His length was pressed against your thigh and it was warm and vibrating. You swallowed like a Virgin damsel.

Anthony looked at you, not breaking the fire that was blazing between your souls as he pulled it out his erection and there, angry red tip, sticky with pre cum was buzzing to be touched and loved and he looked up in delight when your eyes widened, all of the times, it didn't matter, it baffled you just the same.

You touched the tip and he shivered at the contact, his cock gave a twist and lurked fir more.

" Do you see ? " He was panting, shaking with his words as if he would fall if he didn't hold his breath, " see it ?! How much I burn for you, how much I want you ? " He shaked his head and touched his tip to your belly, soft and burning.

" No." He laughed humourlessly, his hand pushing your body to lie down on your back and you followed, taking a huge breath as Anthony grabbed your dangling ankle in a yank, bringing it around his neck.

He then kissed your knuckles softly, whsipering sweet nothings tenderly in your bones.

" I would give you anything my sweet love, you just have to ask...mallet ? I would give you my soul if you had asked. Anything for my baby love " He said, you felt your body tremor as he teased his tip at your insides, Anthony inhaled sharply as he entered you, warm and slick as oil. he entwined your fingers together.

" So good...so good for me baby." He moaned as he soft thrusted once, twice and until you were numb for anything, his words were halo in the dark, beaming silvery glow and then came one hard push and you arched your back as the pain waved in pleasure.

" Anthony..." You moaned, " oh god ! " Your words mingled in blasphemy and Anthony smiled in victory, pushing harder and harder as your hips rocked and roll.

" Say my name...say it." He demanded, your nails gripping at his shoulder so hard that it would scar, he liked it.

" Anthony...oh lord... Anthony." You screamed and chanted and you believed he heard the worship, the fate you had in him, and it didn't matter if anyone listened, let them, you thought, Anthony was a force to be reckoned with, a storm you never minded to be wrecked in. A beak of sweat glided from his forehead and dropped on your belly.

He was still pushing in a angle that had you seeing stars and cosmic love, he bend down, licking it, tongue gliding across your skin, and sniffing, taking in everything your offered.

He wanted all of you.

" I will fill you up with our baby, next time don't go hunting for mallet in midnight...it's so cold Darling, i would have to tie you up," He kissed your stomach bump, " and would carry you around everywhere." He said in dreamily haze that soon took over your lids.

The only sounds were erotic slapping of skin against skin and shuddering breaths, and he fastened his movements as a war cry took him over like a devil.

You head was thrown back as everything collapsed and grew again, bit by bit. Your eyelids drooped and a muffled cry came from you and then it was Anthony as he came in warm fizzy juice. Your felt the knot inside you uncoil and something loose inside you, uncorked as your juices mingled like your souls.

He pushed one more time, he always did that and then he collapsed next to you, satisfied, kissing your already bruised neck sweetly.

" Wouldn't you like that mama ? " He chorused and you laughed like a drunk, you would, a daughter with Anthony's eyes and smile, you smiled at the thought.

" Let's clean you up and take you to bed my lady." Anthony picked you, kissing you again as you giggled, he then grabbed the cloak and covered your body against the cold, you were dazed but not quite forgotten, you eyes searched for the war prize. Your mouth fell open, second time in a very same night.

" Where's the mallet ? " You narrowed your eyes at the stock of pink and blue and yellow but the black wasn't there, perhaps a trick of light.

Anthony followed your eyes and went closer, your arms wrapped around his shoulder and there, beneath the shadows was a parchment, rich and fresh.

Anthony picked it up with one hand, the other keeping you steady in his arms.

You saw the lanky words that belonged to none other than Mr. Bridgerton.

" Damn you Colin! " You growled as the mockful apology was scribbled for stealing the black mallet.

Anthony perched his lips at the heist but smiled when your whining eyes met his.

" I am going to whoop his ass and get you the mallet baby." He said, and you knew he will.

Victory indeed.

_________________________________________

Uhm Benedict bridgerton next ? Send in request ladies <3

[iifloweringnightsii]

We stan FEMINIST READERS!!!! No matter how out of the norm it is, I love when writers do a take on that concept. I would love to be besties with Eloise ☺️

"With all due respect, I would rather face your wrath than my wife's."

(Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader)

(Not my gifs, credit goes to the creators)

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Requested by: Anon

Requests: Open

Fandom: Netflix Bridgerton

Request: ‘Hey babe, hope you’re doing well! I have a request for anthony bridgerton x f!reader if that’s okay :)

I’d like to see what it’d be like for anthony to be with a feminist reader. Maybe even a scene where she confronts a man and he tells Anthony to control his wife or something like that.’

Thank you so much for requesting! I tried really hard, like I do with all my requests, but I feel this may be bad, haha. 

Warnings: Sexism and terrible writing.

Words: 1.6K

Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction, the scenarios, the reader, and the dialogue are all mine.

This should only be found on my blog.

Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01 ​ .

A/N: Please do not copy or plagiarise this, or put it in your own book, etc. It should only be found here. Also, please mention if I should make a taglist and if you wanted to be added. I also tried by best at being British.

Thank you.

:)

Keep reading

[peachpitfics]

Endgame

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Six years after you were married off to your Father's friend, you enter a period of mourning. As soon as it is societally acceptable, Benedict Bridgerton is in your foyer with a bouquet of flowers, amending a mistake he made all those years ago.

Length: 3.8k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Death, mentions of sex work, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm.

a/n: This is part iii to Wildest Dreams & Loml, requested by anon here! This is the final part!

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Your father stood acrost from you, tears in his eyes, which seemed genuine, though they did leave you confused. He was more devastated by your elderly husband’s death than you were – they had been friends a very many years, even with an age gap between them. It was six years since you were married to Lord Roger Howard, six of the most gruelling years of your life, pretending to care remotely for such a wretched man.

“I apologise for this display” Father wiped his tears from his eyes.

“Fret not, he was your friend after all” You replied nonchalantly, your father never caring enough to pay attention to your words, let alone the tone of your voice. He nodded sadly, blowing his nose in his handkerchief and stuffing it back into the waistcoat pocket.

“Your mother is thrilled at the prospect of you coming home” He asserted.

The shock of his audacity displayed in full force upon your face, “This is my home, I will not be returning to your house in Mayfair. I have an estate to care for until its heir comes of age” You shot back at him, far surer and more confident in your own voice than you had been when he bullied you into a match you did not want.

His weepy eyes filled with exasperation, you were not sure anyone had ever spoken back to him in such a manner, it sure looked as though they hadn’t. He stuttered over jumbled consonants, words unforming as they bowled out of his mouth. Never in your young life had you seen your father so beside himself, so baffled.

“Is there something you wish to say?” You asked brashly.

Stern eyebrows grew rigid over his unpredictable eye line, “How disrespectful! I do not recall raising a child with such an attitude! You will do as your father tells you, and your father demands you return to Mayfair” He almost shouted, the corrosive tone of his voice scared you as a child, even just a few years ago; but he had set you on a journey down Dante’s nine rings of hell. No longer afraid of small men feigning omnipotence in comparison to you, your father was no better nor worse than the husband you had just lost.

Your harsh statuette figure remained still and unblinking, unimpressed by his temper tantrum. Sweat formed on his brow line, rage simmering just below the surface. He was a volcano, ready to erupt in exaggerated self-importance. “It is obvious to me that perhaps you are confused. I was married to Lord Howard; I am Dowager Lady Howard. I do not belong to you, nor am I required to hear this nonsense any longer. I have land, and staff to account for. I will be remaining here. Would you like me to escort you out?” You asked calmly, your heart thumping in your chest, prepared for his next outrageous onslaught.

Father shuffled on the spot, puffed-up and fragile, dancing between continuing this argument, or storming out of the room. With a defeated, heavy exhale, he turned swiftly on the ball of his foot and stomped down the stairs. Staff peered around corners, having heard the yelling, worried for your safety.

Making your way out to the landing, subtly triumphant smile on your face, you watched as your father barged past someone standing in the foyer. You could not believe your eyes, unsure now of whether this was a dream or not. Benedict Bridgerton stood tall in the foyer, a big bunch of flowers in his arms, side eying your father as he passed. He looked just like you remembered, just like you imagined him every day since you last saw him. His eyebrows high, his crowning glory, that cheeky smile adorned on his face. There were small changes, delicious smile lines around his mouth and across his forehead. He looked neat, and very well dressed – you thought perhaps he finally had taken some advice from Anthony. The door slammed violently, and Benedict jumped slightly, pursing his lips together in a look of amusement.

“Mr Bridgerton, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” You hummed in soft interrogation.

“I have come to offer my condolences” Benedict tried to wipe the smile from his face.

“Alas, it has been six whole months since my husband passed away. Would you not consider these condolences to be quite late?” You retorted audaciously.

“One… might consider my visit late, yes. However, I do believe I am right on time. I would like to point out that it is but seven hours into a societally acceptable visit for a single man to call on a widow” He feigned checking his pocket watch, nearly dropping the bouquet on the floor, beaming at you as you started descending the stairs. Rushing down the stairs with enthusiasm, you threw yourself into his arms, flowers crushed between your bodies as your kiss landed. There was that sense of delirium you had missed so dearly. Your stomach dropped excitedly, your heart skipped a beat, your smile uncontainable as he pulled you into him tighter and tighter.

“Worried I would not come?” He asked between kisses, his eyes joyously lit.

“Not one bit” You groaned as his teeth took your lip, sucking it into his mouth, “Come upstairs”.

Benedict took your hand in his, leading you to the only place he knew well in this house, your bedroom. It was strange feeling this way after so long, so much glee in such a solemn house. You had not a care in the world at this moment, everything was finally right as it should have been.

Shutting the door forcefully, Benedict grasped at your arms and pulled you toward the bed, shifting behind you to undress you. Not a second later, Benedict gripped two sections of material and reefed them apart, tearing your dress from your body, his clamorous grunt igniting something within you. The fabric fell to the ground around you in a pool, embarrassment telling you to turn to Benedict, but his forceful hands stilled you where you were. Bending you forward, you rested your elbows onto the bed, the sound of his breeches unbuttoning behind you made your mouth water, wonderment tensing your mind.

Kneeling behind you, Benedict pressed his finger to your pussy, sliding it in as slowly as possible, coaxing soft moans from your lips. You so greatly wanted to spin around, eager to see what he was up to.

“God you are so wet and ready for me” Benedict commended, slipping that same finger between his lips, sucking the taste of you off it, moaning in unbridled thirst for you. Benedict’s hands snapped to your hips grasping at generous handfuls, reefing you back into him, running the tip of his cock along you.

He plunged into you without a moments notice, sinking to extremity unexpectedly. Gasping in wretched recognition as your body adjusted, his velvet skin sliding in and out of you, images flashed through your mind of all the times you had done this before. His large hands slid into the pocket between your belly and your hips, thumbs goading you back into him, savouring every thrust back into you. Benedict laced into your hair, firmly pulling you back to meet him, the starving kiss in his arsenal his best yet. That is what it had felt like, these last two years in particular – like surviving in a baron desert, aridity only quenched by a singular person, and that person being unattainable.

Benedict’s hardness sunk into you again and again, particularly rigid on this occasion, you did not recall him filling you quite this much, but every moment was felt like a spiritual experience. His thrusts became vigorous, and he had that look in his eye that you knew all too well, his efforts quickly moving toward fruition. His pelvis slammed into yours with the most gloriously barbaric force, his moans and grunts animating, pleasure absolutely carved throughout his body and face. The eagerness of his movements made you squeal out as he reached deeper places, you hips bounced back encouraging his release inside of you. Benedict’s hands constricted in place; his body unyielding as waves of intensity rolled through him.

Desperately trying to inhale deeper breaths, Benedict rolled onto the bed next to you, stretching out his arms as if he had a stitch in his chest. You giggled at him, lying down too.

“Not as young as you once were?” You chortled.

Benedict flashed you a look of sunny offense, “If I… could breathe… right now, you’d be paying… for that comment…” Benedict chuckled through his panting. You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart thump against your hand, your eyes went wide with awe.

After catching his breath, you laid together in the bed for the rest of the day, slipping in and out of each other and conversation. Benedict was enjoying exploring your body again, as it had been two years and another child later.

“I cannot believe we are finally here” Benedict chuffed, his head resting on your navel, staring up at the ceiling.

“Six years later, my darling. To be fair, we did think we would be apart longer” You remarked.

Benedict paused, fingers circling your forearm wrapped over him, “Y/n… There are rumours circulating the Ton…” He uttered kindly, approaching with gentility.

“I suppose you should know what happened to Roger,” You sighed, more embarrassed for yourself than for the old codfish, “I received news six months previous, that Roger had passed at an establishment… during intercourse with a working woman” You pursed your lips together, trying not to laugh. This was the first time you had explained the situation out loud, to anyone at all. The hilarity was not lost on you, but it felt wrong for the widow to relish the death of her husband outwardly, no matter the kind of man he was.

Benedict was silent for a few more moments, his eyes squinting in reserve, white flashes of teeth peeking through his lips, trying his hardest not to burst into laughter. “At least, he died doing what he loved?” Benedict knew he could hold up the façade no longer, resigning to his impish personality, eliciting a perpetual and free laugh from you. You ruffled his hair merrily, giving playful shoves for saying something so outrageous.

“Perhaps so! It is difficult to explain to the children, not that he had much interest in them anyway. I am hoping they will adjust quickly; they are quite young still” You gave Benedict a gentle smile. You knew he had been waiting to bring up the children, only having seen them a handful of times over the last 5 years.

“When can I see them?” Benedict asked keenly.

“Their nanny took them for a walk in the gardens when I was informed my father was on the grounds… He is not particularly fond of them either” You shrugged, “They will surely be returning soon” You reached out to stroke Benedict’s face, his excitement uncontainable.

Benedict continued to talk about the children, taking guesses at their heights and how they walked. He asked about their favourite foods and favourite colours, he wanted to know everything. More than anything, he had wanted to be there to see them grow and change. He had spent their lives memorising details in letters, their descriptions and little personalities, so desperate to know them. Benedict was recently thrilled to learn that Benjamin had lost his very first tooth at just five years old. He was also filled with pride when you wrote of Beatrice climbing down the stairs for the first time, all be herself – she was three now and while Benedict felt like he had missed so much, he knew how much more there was to come, that he would get to be a part of.

“My apologies, I am just overjoyed to finally be here” Benedict’s eyes watered lightly.

“Do not apologise, they will be excited too, you know they love you” You smiled, wiping away his singular tear. You leant down to place a kiss on his forehead, which he intercepted, stealing yours lips away with his own, warm and full.

Benedict rolled onto his front, lifting your thigh over him and snuggling himself between your legs. His nose rested in your tangle of pubic hair, nudging gently at your slit. Without meaning to, you laid back in anticipatory relaxation, Benedict’s arms wrapping around your thighs.

“You are unreasonably delicious my love” Benedict moaned from between your thighs.

His fingers danced around your outer flesh, tickling and pleasing strokes slowly replaced by his tongue, wet and pleasantly heated. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your lung’s feeling collapse was just moments away. It had been so long, and you were well and truly voracious for him, you had thought about this every single day.

Writhing under his ministrations, Benedict gently lapped at your clitoris, hardly touching it at times. You whimpered in hopeless desperation as he teased and circled exactly where you wanted him to press. There was no doubt Benedict was a connoisseur at this fine art and you were thankful for it. His hands slid up under your behind, lifting you up and into his face, you gave a slight squeal at his strength. The smile in his eyes melted your core, watching the lower half of his face flex and move, buried in your pussy. With every flick of his tongue, every suck of his lips, you could not stop yourself from grinding back onto his face.

Your face strained, trying to conceal the loudest moans these walls would have heard, Benedict’s ravenous tongue lapping senselessly, your knees shaking either side of him. Every moan from Ben vibrated through you, your hand flew violently to the back of his head, demanding more and more of him. Sucking your clit between his lips insistently, his teeth grazing your sensitive nub, Benedict allowed you to orgasm. Your hips bucked against his face, the hot friction of his stubbled face a godly addition to your unleashing.

Remaining still, Benedict’s soft eyes peered up at you, taking in every moment of your completion, committing it all to memory. You could tell just by the look in his eyes that you were a transcendent idol, sent here only for him. His tongue dallied, sensually slipping between your lips a last few times before he released your thighs.

“God, I love it when you do that!” You almost yelled in exotic delight.

“You taste marvellous, truly otherworldly. I could spend the rest of my life tending to you like that” Benedict smiled widely, subtly licking around his mouth to take in the rest of you.

You remained on the flat of your back, drunk on your adoration of him, “I wish you would” You laughed, half joking. It occurred to the both of you at separate times, that there was no longer a need to rush, nor savour these moments. There was nothing to keep you apart any longer, no one to hide from.

~

Benedict suggested bathing before dinner, so you loosely dressed, calling for the housekeeper to fetch the ladies’ maids to sort some baths. Once the both of you were dressed and ready for dinner, you descended the stairs, you arm linked over his, his gentlemanly stature reinstated upon leaving the bedroom.

The children sat on the rug in the dining room, surrounded by the petals of the flowers Benedict had arrived with this morning. Benjamin looked up, playful excitement lighting his face as he noticed the two of you.

“Mama!” He exclaimed, running into your legs, wrapping his small arms around them.

“Good evening my boy” You hummed, bending down to swoop him up into your arms. Benjamin remembered Benedict from visits previously, but he had not been around in some time. He outstretched his tiny hand, offering a handshake to his father. His sweet little teeth biting into his bottom lip, the centre one missing.

“Are you going to be staying for tea?” He asked curiously, the way children do.

“Yes, my small friend, I am,” Benedict took his hand and shook it properly, “My name is Ben, I do not know if you remember me”.

“My name is Ben as well” Benjamin gasped in innocent surprise. Without thinking, you passed your five-year-old son over to his father as they continued to talk, Benedict instinctually taking him on his hip, just like he had Gregory and Hyacinth not all that long ago. You travelled across the room to Beatrice, who gathered handfuls of pink rose petals and threw them into the air above her head, clapping as they rained down upon her. You scooped your smallest child into your chest, meeting Benedict and Benjamin at the table, placing her in her little chair. Her dark curls framing her face in sweet disposition, she waved happily to the strange man at the table. As the staff served dinner, Benedict took his place at the head of the table, with encouragement from you. You could see joy filling him right to the brim, happiness pouring out of him without a hint of regret. This was what you had both worked for. The housekeeper stopped by you on her way back to the kitchen, gently pinching your cheeks just like a mother would, she had not seen you smile like this in such a long, long time.

                                                                ~

The family spent one week together at the estate before Benedict thought it was time to travel to Mayfair, to tell him family of this news. He was not sure how they would handle him marrying a widow, nowhere on his list of objectives was there a point to explain the children and why they looked like him. Benedict had slotted into their lives perfectly and without incident, the children already slipping and calling him father at times. His heart nearly beat right out of his chest with pride.

Arriving at the Bridgerton house, Benedict carried Bea on his hip from the carriage, entering to his family waiting in the entrance hall eagerly awaiting whatever the news in his letters could be.

The first thing Benedict noticed before he had even introduced his family, was his mothers all knowing smile, and the happiness reflected in her eyes.

“Family, this is Lady Y/n Howard, and we are to be married” Benedict announced loudly, a slight echoing ringing through the entrance hall. Anthony and Collins eyes bounced between Benedict and each other, confusion ruling their faces. Everyone else littered them with congratulatory hugs and kisses.

“And who are these darlings?” Violet came forward, kissing Benedict and reaching out to rub Beatrice’s small hands on his chest.

“This is Beatrice, and this young man is Benjamin” Benedict introduced his children to his mother, watching her crouch down to take Benjamins outstretched hand for a handshake.

“How gorgeous! What a fine gentleman” Violet’s smile was sunlight, her demeanour so utterly welcoming. Beatrice leaned out of Benedict’s arms, shuffling herself across to Violet’s chest, snuggling into her grandmother. The both of you knew then that Violet had caught on as she rocked gently from side to side, Beatrice fitting perfectly in her arms as all the Bridgerton babes had before.

“Please, come to the sitting room, I will fetch the tea” Hyacinth directed everybody up the stairs to the second floor. As you and Benedict were about to follow behind the children and the other Bridgerton siblings, Colin and Anthony sequestered your arms away to an adjacent room.

Anthony closed the double doors to the dining room, and benedict slid his hand into yours in solidarity. Colin circled the both of you like a shark in open water, his normally cheery face overrun with suspicion. Anthony frowned pensively in front of you, rubbing his face, well and truly confused.

“This is all happening rather fast, do you not think?” Anthony asked sceptically.

Benedict licked his lips in preparation, “Brother, you know I was in love with y/n all those years ago. We have simply reconnected since the very sad death of her late husband” Benedict portrayed the sympathetic friend, the shoulder to cry on in a time of need.

“I see, and your engagement taking in place exactly six months after the death of Lord Howard is simply a coincidence?” Anthony questioned, logical suspicion stirring up his role as caretaker of the family.

“Yes. Benedict was very considerate, giving me my time to grieve my husband before coming to visit and offer his condolences. It can be quite confronting when one is bombarded with flowers and well wishes all but a day after a loss” You lamented, doing your best to act your part, the sullen widow.

Anthony nodded, having experienced such a similar event after the death of their father Edmund, “I understand, I am glad that you have reconnected with each other after all these years… I do just have one more question, and I will only ask once. I do not wish to offend you, however if I found out either of you had anything to do with the death of Lord Howard, I –”  

“Lord Howard died in the bed of a prostitute” You blurted out, interrupting Anthony quite rudely. He was inferring the two of you had murdered Lord Howard for his estate and potentially as a crime of passion. That was not the case, your true secret seemed to be thoroughly unnoticed by the eldest brother.

Anthony and Colin stood side by side, their mouths gaping at the same time, blinking in uneasy embarrassment. There had been several rumours circulating the Ton regarding the death of Lord Howard, this was not the one they had expected to be true. Anthony snapped back to reality, shutting his mouth and nodding uncomfortably. He gestured toward the door, Benedict pulling you out of the room, heading for the stairs.

“It is strange… Those kids look a lot like Ben” Colin muttered to Anthony as they followed on behind you, not a far distance away. Benedict turned and met Anthony’s gaze in his peripheral as the whole thing dawned on the eldest Bridgerton boy. Dropping your hand, Benedict darted up the stairs, headed for the safety of his mother.

“Benedict, get back here!?” Anthony shouted, the vein in his forehead violently protruding, he stormed up the stairs after Ben.

Colin slipped into the space Benedict left, holding out his arm for you to take, “Come on, I’ll show you to the sitting room. They are going to be a while. At least you will not have to endure two dead husbands… Anthony’s going to kill him before he gets to the altar” Colin chuckled, your arm clinging to his as he escorted you up the stairs.

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