#anthony

[mymindimpaired]

Madoka + Anthony

[chibifox2002]

Desperation

(I'll be making a part 2 soon)

.........

[auroracalisto]

anthony bridgerton x gn!reader, 467 words summary: short fic between anthony and a poor reader using the line: "i beg you to stay, just 'til tomorrow." from this sentence starter set. a/n: could be a set up for a multi-part fic if people are interested. >:)

The moon lay high in the sky, shining through the curtains of your bedroom. Your body lay tangled with Anthony's strong limbs, his arms carefully wrapped around your warmed body.

Every moment of his presence was like a step closer to heaven. Just being near him was just as fulfilling as actually being with him.

And as you feel him stir from his spot, slowly sitting up, you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

"Anthony?" you softly said.

"I need to go," he simply replied. He stood from his spot in your bed, grabbing his shirt that had been haphazardly thrown onto the ground.

"Wait," you quickly said, sitting up. The sheets pool around your hips. "Anthony, don't—"

"—I need to get back before morning, darling," he softly said. "You know this."

Eyebrows furrowed, your lips part as you tried to find something more to say. You hated this moment of the night, even though you knew it came. Every. Single. Time.

"I beg you," you softly said. "I beg you to stay, just 'til tomorrow."

He looked back at you as he finished buttoning up his shirt, grabbing his trousers from the end of the bed and pulling them on rather quickly.

"Y/n, you know I can't do that," he said. "As much as I wish I could."

He crossed the threshold to be beside of you, taking your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I do wish I could. But it's not going to happen. Not today."

You sit there, a soft frown on your lips. This was how it always went. You would beg him to stay, but he would leave, knowing that the scandal that would haunt his family would be nothing but disastrous. Despite that, you still wished for him. His comfort.

"When will I see you again?" you asked.

He weakly smiled. "Soon. I promise."

"Truly?"

He blinked slowly. "Y/n..."

You looked away from him, a soft frown on your lips. "I wish you would just—just stay. We could be so happy, you and I."

"I do not think you would be happy with me, Y/n."

Your gaze immediately fell to his. "I beg your pardon?"

"This is not—I am not having this conversation. Not today. I must go." He cupped your face in between his hands and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "Until next time."

You deflated as you watched him leave.

"Yes," you softly whispered. "Until next time."

How cruel was the world to grant you the love of a lifetime only to pull it out from under you—for he was nobility, and you were... well, you.

The love you shared would be nothing more than frivolity in the sanctity of your bedroom.

[hazzashouse]

The Weight of a Name PART I

Author’s Note: This was my first attempt at writing for Anthony Bridgerton, and I loved delving into his intensity and passion. I’m considering writing a part two—let me know if you’d like to see where this story goes!

Triggers: Emotional confrontation, feelings of rejection, societal pressure

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,703

Summary: When Anthony Bridgerton’s relentless pursuit of you reaches its breaking point, a fiery confrontation reveals the depths of his feelings.

PART TWO: here

The soft hum of violins and lilting laughter echoed throughout the ballroom. It was a scene of perfection, one carefully orchestrated by the host to impress even the most critical members of the ton. You moved with grace, your every step measured and deliberate, but your mind was far from composed.

Anthony Bridgerton was watching you.

You had felt his eyes on you all evening, and no matter how hard you tried to shake the weight of his gaze, it lingered. It wasn’t just that he watched—it was the way he looked at you. As if he already had you. As if his claim was inevitable.

But Anthony Bridgerton wasn’t the kind of man you trusted easily. His reputation was whispered about behind fans and through veiled glances. He was handsome, yes, and powerful, but he was also dangerous. The stories of his past were enough to make even the boldest debutantes wary.

You had no intention of falling for a man like him.

————————

Later that evening, you had sought refuge on the balcony, eager for a moment of quiet. The cool air kissed your skin as you inhaled deeply, savoring the temporary escape. But your peace was short-lived.

“You’re avoiding me.”

The low, irritated voice made you stiffen. You turned to find Anthony standing just beyond the balcony doors, his jaw set and his dark eyes locked on you.

“I wasn’t aware I was obligated to seek you out,” you replied evenly, though your voice betrayed a hint of exasperation.

Anthony stepped closer, his movements deliberate. “You know precisely what I mean,” he said, his tone clipped. “I’ve been trying to speak with you all evening, but you’ve been too busy entertaining every other man in this room.”

Your temper flared, and you straightened your spine. “Perhaps that’s because every other man in this room doesn’t believe he has some divine right to my attention.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed, and he took another step closer. “Is that truly what you think of me?” he asked, his voice low but seething.

“What else am I to think?” you shot back, your voice rising. “You stride into every room as if the world should bow at your feet, as if no one could possibly resist the great Viscount Bridgerton. Well, I’m not one of your conquests, my lord, and I won’t be treated as such.”

Anthony’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he said nothing. But then he stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a near-growl. “You think I’m trying to conquer you? That this is some sort of game to me? I have been chasing you for months. I’ve ignored every other debutante, turned down every match my mother has pushed my way, and still, you look at me as if I’m nothing more than a rogue.”

Your chest heaved as his words hit their mark. “And why shouldn’t I?” you demanded, your voice trembling with emotion. “Do you deny it? Do you deny the countless women, the scandalous liaisons, the reputation you’ve so carefully crafted? How am I to believe you would ever honor a vow made to me when you’ve broken so many others?”

Anthony flinched, and for a moment, his mask slipped. There was pain in his eyes, a vulnerability you hadn’t expected. “I am not proud of my past,” he said quietly. “But you—you’ve made me want to be better. To be more than what they say I am.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “And I’m supposed to believe that? Because you’ve paid me a few compliments and danced with me a handful of times? Forgive me, my lord, but I’ve seen how easily you charm others. I won’t be another name on your list.”

Anthony’s temper snapped, and he grabbed your wrist—not harshly, but firmly enough to stop you from walking away. “You don’t understand what you’re doing to me,” he said, his voice rough and urgent. “I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t think of anything but you. Every time I see you with another man, it feels like a knife to my chest. And yet, you look at me as if I’m nothing, as if I’m unworthy of even your consideration.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. His grip on your wrist softened, and he took a step back, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” he continued, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “To feel so completely undone by someone. To want them so desperately, so utterly, and to know they see you as nothing more than a mistake waiting to happen.”

Your eyes stung with unshed tears, but you refused to let them fall. “Do you think this is easy for me?” you asked, your voice cracking. “Do you think I enjoy rejecting you, knowing I might be giving up on something—” You stopped yourself, shaking your head. “But I can’t ignore the part of me that’s terrified you’ll hurt me. That I’ll wake up one day and realize I was nothing more than a passing infatuation to you.”

Anthony stared at you, his chest heaving. “You think I would hurt you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “After everything I’ve done to prove myself to you?”

“What have you done, Anthony?” you demanded, your voice rising again. “You’ve watched me from across ballrooms and interrupted my dances, but have you ever truly shown me who you are? Or are you still hiding behind the charm and arrogance that the ton has come to expect from you?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Anthony’s jaw clenched, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. “You’re right,” he said finally, his voice trembling with restraint. “You don’t know who I am. But that’s because you’ve never given me the chance to show you.”

Your heart ached at the raw emotion in his voice, but you refused to back down. “Perhaps I would have, if I believed you were capable of being the man I need.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But then he stepped back, his expression hardening into one of cold resolve. “You’ll regret this,” he said quietly, his voice laced with both pain and anger. “You’ll regret not taking the chance when you had it.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone on the balcony with your heart pounding and your hands shaking.

As you stared after him, a single thought echoed in your mind.

Had you made a mistake?

————————

PART TWO: here

[greetings-inferiors]

[askthemillerhousehold]

Dear Anthony Miller...

I wish you burn in Hell. Not even Hell. Hell². Go to Hell².

Best Regards, I know you're not real, and I'm glad you're fake.

🎩: "...Anthony is not here... Nor is he a Miller..."

🎩: "But I'll be happy to forward your message for ya pal!"

🎩: "fuckyouyoufuckingpieceofshit"

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Bridgerton Game Night

Anthony bridgerton x female wife reader

The Bridgerton estate was alive with the warmth of family gathered for their cherished game night. The drawing room glowed softly with candlelight, casting a cozy ambiance over the siblings and their spouses as they settled in for an evening of spirited competition.

Anthony Bridgerton, usually the epitome of poise and control, found himself at the center of playful teasing due to his enthusiastic yet often inaccurate answers during charades and trivia. He approached each game with a competitive fervor that sometimes led to comically exaggerated gestures or hasty guesses.

As the evening began with a round of charades, Anthony eagerly took to the challenge of acting out "The Three Musketeers." With exaggerated flourishes and dramatic flair, he tried to convey the essence of the classic tale, only to elicit peals of laughter from his siblings and their spouses.

Y/N, Anthony's devoted wife, watched with a fond smile, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and adoration for her husband's playful nature. She leaned in close as Anthony continued his theatrics, whispering teasingly in his ear, "Perhaps fewer theatrics and more direct clues next time, my love."

Anthony shot her a mock glare, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. He turned back to his siblings, who were now gently ribbing him for his enthusiastic but occasionally misguided efforts. "Anthony, you're supposed to act out the title, not perform the entire novel!" Benedict quipped, earning laughter from Eloise and Colin.

Y/N, always quick to defend her husband's honor, playfully covered Anthony's ears with her hands. "Let's not tease poor Anthony while he's trying his best," she said with a playful smile. "We can discuss his performance later, when he's not in the room."

She winked mischievously at the others, knowing full well that Anthony could hear every word. Anthony grinned in response, his amusement evident. "I heard that," he interjected playfully, his eyes meeting Y/N's with affectionate understanding.

The room erupted into laughter again, the teasing taking on a loving and lighthearted tone that only siblings who truly cherished each other could appreciate. Y/N leaned closer to Anthony, her hand resting gently on his shoulder as she leaned in to whisper, "They tease because they adore you, my dear."

Anthony nodded, a warm smile spreading across his face as he wrapped his arm around Y/N's waist, pulling her close. "And I adore every moment of it," he replied sincerely, his gaze sweeping over his siblings with a mixture of pride and affection.

As the night progressed, the Bridgerton family continued their games, each round bringing more laughter, camaraderie, and friendly competition. Anthony and Y/N's playful banter and the siblings' teasing became cherished memories that they would fondly recount in the years to come, evidence of a family bound together not only by blood but by deep love, laughter, and a shared appreciation for the joy of being together.

[greentea-and-cookies]

They're both losers, baby🎶💕

Yeah, I know they're not in the blue lighting but I think it looks pretty like this too

And yeah! I know angel was the one offering his hand in that scene but, when I noticed, the line art was already done and I really didn't want to redo their hands(⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

[anthonyreckercakes]

Anthony Recker Super Butt, big booty baseball boy.

FULL ALBUM: https://photos.app.goo.gl/y86zXfNqPXdbfoDh6

[theodorenottwhore]

18+

spider’s only priority was to make you cum. His nose was pressed against your puffy clit, tongue buried deep inside your hole. It didn’t matter that Anthony was in the room with you both, stroking his cock to the sound of your pretty moans.

your pleasure was his pleasure.

And nothing got him off more than watching your body contort in complete ecstasy as he firmly kept your legs in place, nails digging into your thighs.

You were soaked and the slurping sounds echoing around the room only confirmed that.

Let’s just say he had no problem getting it up whilst you and his best friend were in the room.

[dreamerwitches]

More witches and familiars from Kotodaman

[chibifox2002]

It's fine it's fine Janet has to be fine

In one of your previous posts Janet takes Kevin to a lake to calm down so she has to come back! Right?🥺

(I'm just about to hit the photo limit here so a part three is in order)

[soloragoldsun]

So, this "Angel Cooking Italian Food" brainworm won't leave me and now I'm picturing him becoming a freaking whirlwind in the kitchen, especially when he's stressed or has something to rant about. I'm talking stirring sauce with one hand, making meatballs with two hands, and gesturing wildly with another while switching between English and Italian and cussing out whoever pissed him off that day.

Everyone quickly learns to vacate the kitchen while this is going on. Except Husk. He just sits at a nearby table, makes sure the glass Angel's drinking from doesn't get empty, and watches his tornado of a boyfriend with big ole heart eyes.

[auroracalisto]

day #7: candy canes

anthony bridgerton x gn!reader, 542 words a/n: hope you like candy canes cuz you love them in this pookies

The holiday season always kept Anthony rather... on edge. Always something to do, something to plan, something to buy. It was as if he could never get away from it, no matter how hard he tried.

But one thing that always remained the same were the sweets that his mother would buy from the Christmas market in preparation for the holiday. She would do it herself—no servants could pick out the candy she wanted (and she had learned that long ago).

Chocolates of all kinds, some with raspberry creams and some with orange rinds that made such a delicious crunch when you bit into them. Butter mints that were so soft and delicate and were kept in a small, glass dish.

Anthony's favorites that his mother always bought were the candy canes.

She would buy just enough to keep many in stock for just a few days (the curse of having such a large family). Of course, she would go back out and buy more as she had the money to do so, but she did try to buy in bulk. It was the only way, really.

But now that Anthony was married and had his spouse in the same household as his mother and siblings, he noticed that they had gone missing far sooner than he had anticipated. In fact, he had been meaning to grab a candy cane for himself when he noticed they were all gone.

He set out on a mission to figure out what exactly had happened.

All fingers pointed to his spouse—to you, his most favored of all people.

Perhaps not right now.

"You've truly gone and had them all?" he asked.

If you weren't sure before, you knew now—he was judging you, and rather harshly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, hiding one of the pieces of candy behind your back—not very inconspicuously, it seemed.

Anthony breathed through his nose, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"You have it. I see it there."

"You are being silly, Anthony," you said, sitting on the edge of your shared bed. "I have nothing." You kept your hand behind your back, not wanting him to take it.

Anthony narrowed his eyes. "Oh. So what is in your hand, lover?"

"Nothing is in my hand."

"And you lie," he snorted. "Show me."

"Absolutely not. Mind your business."

At that, he walked forward, taking your jaw between his thumb and forefinger. He glanced at your back and saw it—the last candy cane.

"You fiend," he scoffed, reaching forward to take it.

You let him, not wanting to put much effort into it. You had already had four just that day.

"I am no fiend," you said.

"What number would this make?"

"Hm?"

"Candy canes, love. How many candy canes would this have made?"

You pursed your lips, glancing at his hand.

He narrowed his eyes at you and let go. "You are a right mess," he chided, but the scolding nature isn't serious.

"Will we get more?" you tentatively asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Of course we will," he said. "Although I may send you with my mother to get them. Then you can tell her you've ate most of them."