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Thank you so much for your lovely support 🥰
Okay, so can I please request some Anthony fluff? Just something soft with a wife!reader. Maybe she’s laughing and joking with his siblings and someone (probably Colin lol) says something about her deserrving the Bridgerton name or something because she gets on so well with them and just fits their vibe? idk, just some anthony x wife! reader with some of the other Bridgertons.
(i just wanna be apart of the family)
Oh, don't we all! Until then, I hope that I can do justice to your lovely request and make you a position befitting a Viscountess.
A/N: I started this with the intention to have it be a little fluffy snippet but as always it's truly gotten away from me so! Enjoy this fluffy peek into our favourite large Regency family and their loves.
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
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Loud laughter greeted Anthony as he pushed open the doors to the drawing-room of his home. Having left Bridgerton House for a brief meeting with the Duke of Hastings (eventually, they'd returned to their schoolboy friendships since his sister's marriage, after much cajoling from their respective, and formidable, wives), the Viscount was taken aback by the sudden presence of his eternally-expanding family. Anthony had hoped to find his wife alone on his return, fully looking forward to kicking off his boots and throwing his coat to one side before spending the rest of the beautiful day enjoying the love of his life in every place across the estate he could come up with. It appeared, however, that society had other intentions for him seeing as the said object of his affections was currently the centre of his siblings' attention in the centre of their brightest receiving room instead. Y/N had taken up prime position on his favourite chair, as she so often did when entertaining without him as if it provided her with a sliver of the comfort and support his presence did, and was flitting expertly between a conversation with Benedict about an exhibition they were hoping to visit across town and braiding Hyacinth's hair so that it sat just as she'd seen in a new kind of magazine.
His wife. His Viscountess. The reason he got up most mornings, the woman with the twinkle in her eye and usually the extra bun in her hand, the friend (how odd his younger self would have found him, he thought, to consider his wife his best friend) who had him laughing into his soup and lounging, among other activities, under the trees across the grounds. The person whose laugh always seemed to call to him across ballrooms and the face he sought whenever her hand was not against him. This woman who had him chase her through the season, asking for dances, bringing flowers, reading her favourite books, even sitting with her mother through tea on more than one occasion. His partner in all things public and private but importantly his biggest champion, even when perhaps he himself was not. This was the woman he would fight all the Dukes and Princes in the world for one moment with, let alone to have pledged his every day for the rest of his ridiculous and chaotic life.
It wasn't until he heard a most ungentlemanly guffaw erupt from the brother who had slid next to him, with a sandwich he'd clearly pinched from a tray by their family, that the eldest Bridgerton was finally pulled from his reverie. Anthony's siblings had never pulled their punches about ribbing their oldest brother at any opportunity, but since the arrival of their newest sister-in-law, they simply couldn't believe how much new content they had. As it was, Colin was still chuckling around his stolen sustenance. "Doesn't it just make you want to recite poetry from the rooftops dear brother mine? I can practically see the hearts in your eyes, Prince Charming."
Thankfully, Colin was rescued from his inevitable fate at the hands of the Viscount by a sudden eruption of laughter from the room before them. Their attentions are caught by the bright red blush now making its way across Benedict's face across from the bizarre sight of Eloise struggling to breathe and clinging to the Viscountess as if she were the only thing keeping her in her seat. Even their usually better-reserved mother appeared to be tittering behind her teacup and Y/N looked rather bashfully pleased with herself at the effect her comment had clearly had on her family.
"Are you sure you didn't happen upon our long lost sister and marry her accidentally?"
Anthony instinctively prepared his signature glower and what would inevitably have been a rather well-rehearsed and utilised chastising, but one glance across the room had the breath knocked from him rather uncharacteristically at the dazzling but mischievous smile being shot at him by his equally ethereal wife. As it had been since their very first meeting, all the noise and bodies around them seemed to melt away into a fuzzy haze. The bustle of rooms ceased to exist and there was nothing even his meddlesome family could do that would draw him from the gaze of the one person who seemed to peer directly into his soul and still come away beaming and with a face mirroring his own adoration.
Both elder Bridgerton boys wiggled their brows at him suggestively, inches away from making some unseemly joke or another, but Viscount Anthony Bridgerton was far too busy striding towards the woman grinning at him with their niece now settled contentedly atop her lap. Society be damned, he thought to himself, a wide smile gracing his face as he took her cheeks in hand and kissed her with every ounce of love and passion he held - for their past, present, and future.
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Note
Okay, so can I please request some Anthony fluff? Just something soft with a wife!reader. Maybe she’s laughing and joking with his siblings and someone (probably Colin lol) says something about her deserrving the Bridgerton name or something because she gets on so well with them and just fits their vibe? idk, just some anthony x wife! reader with some of the other Bridgertons.
(i just wanna be apart of the family)
Oh, don't we all! Until then, I hope that I can do justice to your lovely request and make you a position befitting a Viscountess.
A/N: I started this with the intention to have it be a little fluffy snippet but as always it's truly gotten away from me so! Enjoy this fluffy peek into our favourite large Regency family and their loves.
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
Tumblr media
Loud laughter greeted Anthony as he pushed open the doors to the drawing-room of his home. Having left Bridgerton House for a brief meeting with the Duke of Hastings (eventually, they'd returned to their schoolboy friendships since his sister's marriage, after much cajoling from their respective, and formidable, wives), the Viscount was taken aback by the sudden presence of his eternally-expanding family. Anthony had hoped to find his wife alone on his return, fully looking forward to kicking off his boots and throwing his coat to one side before spending the rest of the beautiful day enjoying the love of his life in every place across the estate he could come up with. It appeared, however, that society had other intentions for him seeing as the said object of his affections was currently the centre of his siblings' attention in the centre of their brightest receiving room instead. Y/N had taken up prime position on his favourite chair, as she so often did when entertaining without him as if it provided her with a sliver of the comfort and support his presence did, and was flitting expertly between a conversation with Benedict about an exhibition they were hoping to visit across town and braiding Hyacinth's hair so that it sat just as she'd seen in a new kind of magazine.
His wife. His Viscountess. The reason he got up most mornings, the woman with the twinkle in her eye and usually the extra bun in her hand, the friend (how odd his younger self would have found him, he thought, to consider his wife his best friend) who had him laughing into his soup and lounging, among other activities, under the trees across the grounds. The person whose laugh always seemed to call to him across ballrooms and the face he sought whenever her hand was not against him. This woman who had him chase her through the season, asking for dances, bringing flowers, reading her favourite books, even sitting with her mother through tea on more than one occasion. His partner in all things public and private but importantly his biggest champion, even when perhaps he himself was not. This was the woman he would fight all the Dukes and Princes in the world for one moment with, let alone to have pledged his every day for the rest of his ridiculous and chaotic life.
It wasn't until he heard a most ungentlemanly guffaw erupt from the brother who had slid next to him, with a sandwich he'd clearly pinched from a tray by their family, that the eldest Bridgerton was finally pulled from his reverie. Anthony's siblings had never pulled their punches about ribbing their oldest brother at any opportunity, but since the arrival of their newest sister-in-law, they simply couldn't believe how much new content they had. As it was, Colin was still chuckling around his stolen sustenance. "Doesn't it just make you want to recite poetry from the rooftops dear brother mine? I can practically see the hearts in your eyes, Prince Charming."
Thankfully, Colin was rescued from his inevitable fate at the hands of the Viscount by a sudden eruption of laughter from the room before them. Their attentions are caught by the bright red blush now making its way across Benedict's face across from the bizarre sight of Eloise struggling to breathe and clinging to the Viscountess as if she were the only thing keeping her in her seat. Even their usually better-reserved mother appeared to be tittering behind her teacup and Y/N looked rather bashfully pleased with herself at the effect her comment had clearly had on her family.
"Are you sure you didn't happen upon our long lost sister and marry her accidentally?"
Anthony instinctively prepared his signature glower and what would inevitably have been a rather well-rehearsed and utilised chastising, but one glance across the room had the breath knocked from him rather uncharacteristically at the dazzling but mischievous smile being shot at him by his equally ethereal wife. As it had been since their very first meeting, all the noise and bodies around them seemed to melt away into a fuzzy haze. The bustle of rooms ceased to exist and there was nothing even his meddlesome family could do that would draw him from the gaze of the one person who seemed to peer directly into his soul and still come away beaming and with a face mirroring his own adoration.
Both elder Bridgerton boys wiggled their brows at him suggestively, inches away from making some unseemly joke or another, but Viscount Anthony Bridgerton was far too busy striding towards the woman grinning at him with their niece now settled contentedly atop her lap. Society be damned, he thought to himself, a wide smile gracing his face as he took her cheeks in hand and kissed her with every ounce of love and passion he held - for their past, present, and future.
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Kisses in the Study
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Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
~~~~~
A/N: I’ve just finished buddy reading the Bridgerton books and thus I am heavily obsessed and refusing to live in the real world because it’s nowhere near as fun as regency land with these charming chaps. Just working on helping to fill the Tumblr void of fanfiction…
~~~~~
The front door closed softly as you stepped into the settled quiet of the house, the flickering streetlamps quashed in favour of the soft candles along the walls. By now you were very much looking forward to immediately traipsing to bed – an evening at Lady Danbury’s ladies’ night always enough to take it out of even the most experienced of partygoers. Shrugging your cloak from sloping shoulders to drape over the hook beside the hallway mirror, however, you were drawn from your sleepy reverie by the sight of a familiar warm glow slipping from the ajar door to your left. You let out a quiet sigh before slipping off your shoes, hoping to retain the hush that had settled with the emerging stars and the disappearing staff, and padded across the hall towards the tell-tale sign of life.
Not even the high-pitched whining from your push to the large door roused the snoring figure sprawled halfway across the dark oak desk that occupied a large section of the room’s centre. Hair tousled from the long fingers that had run through it in thought, the jacket he’d worn to your dinner now slung over the chaise you usually kept him company from (interpret as persistently annoy, nap, and read from) leaving his well-muscled forearms bare where he’d rolled the sleeves to avoid the inevitable ink spots, it was clear your husband had been holed away almost as long as you had been out of your home. You couldn’t help but sigh once more.
Anthony was perfectly aware of your view that he put far too much pressure on himself, whether directly as Viscount or as head of his increasingly large family or generally his positions in politics and society. Throughout your marriage to one another, you had spent many a weekend hunting him down to pull him out to the sunshine and late nights luring him back to bed with a tactical robe swish and coy smile.
A single lamp at the desk’s corner cast a soft illumination around the otherwise shadowed room; a light that seemed to have read your mind as it caressed your husband’s cheekbones, hugging his broad frame, and tickling the stray strands of chestnut hair hanging over his brow. Great swathes of the ton constantly declared the Bridgerton brothers interchangeable, ‘once you’ve encountered one you’ve encountered them all’ had many a wife and sister seeing red in the tea rooms even a particularly memorable run-in at the modiste involving an outspoken (supposedly previously jilted) debutante and Sophie Bridgerton. But this couldn’t be farther from the truth. It was in the way Anthony (usually) held his tongue in public whereas Colin had more than once had to be pulled away from declaring a duel in the minute of the street, it was Benedict’s blossoming success in the art world alongside Colin’s ventures in publishing his journals, it was Gregory sneaking his peas to Daphne in exchange for her carrots and the pairing off that the eight siblings had subconsciously created. Anthony was never just Bridgerton #1 or Viscount Bridgerton. He was a husband, a protector, a quick wit and occasionally a comic, an accomplished horseman, an intensely competitive personality, a constant presence by your side with a hand upon yours or your arm whenever you left the house together – much to the chagrin of society who felt spouses should exist separately in the social sphere, heaven forbid showing any affection. He was a surrogate father to his youngest siblings, a fierce pall mall player, a shoulder for his mother even after she had moved into Number Five, the eldest child but truly sometimes with the maturity of Daphne’s youngest boy.
Here in the relative darkness of the home you shared, all those things flooded the space around you. The temptation to leave the snoozing man to what would inevitably be a sore neck and dead arm come morning as an ‘I told you so’ was weighing against your sudden, though really always present, desire to drag him with you so that the two of you could curl up with one another in the warmth and comfort of mounds of sheets and sleep in his embrace.
Your inner argument was taken from your hands when, as you took a few steps closer, the once peaceful murmurs became a discontent snort that became a full-body jerk that left Anthony upright in the chair and blinking heavily into the gloom. “Good evening Lord Bridgerton, is there something wrong with your bedchamber?”
Clearly previously unaware of your presence in his study, the jarring sound of your voice at his side shook the last of the sleep from the dishevelled gentleman’s body. Attempting to fight a yawn that threatened to dispel his argument, Anthony turned with a sheepish smile, “I thought I’d just cast a quick eye over the accounts George sent over today before you came home so you had my undivided attention darling.” Cocking an eyebrow at your husband, he could already tell you didn’t believe a word emerging so eloquently past his yawns.
Appearing to finally take note of your attire, however, a small smile found its way across his handsome features. “Knowing Lady Danbury as I do, I assume I’ve been sat here much longer than I originally thought if I am waking to your return? I do hope you didn’t lose ALL of our money hmm?” You dropped a light kiss across his temple that made him shiver despite the still warm room, before standing back with your hands placed upon your hips.
“I shall blame your not so thinly veiled insult to my abilities on your exhaustion mon cœur, although I am now reconsidering sharing my winnings…”
A long arm slowly reaching out in your direction signalled that your husband, who was smirking sleepily, had decided to pursue the distraction route in penance for overworking himself and the light-hearted dig. Too tired to give him a lecture, knowing he truly meant well most of the time and finding it dreadfully difficult to form any objection to the warmth of his hand on your skin and the earnest love in his eyes, you allowed a hand to hook behind your back and pull you to rest on your husband’s well-built thighs. Time together was often sparse during the weekdays with his responsibilities and your social expectations but, now two years into your marriage and still just as loved up as your courting days, Anthony had become determined to carve out time with you. He had even endured his brothers’ ribbing on a visit to the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens one summer day just to see you beaming as everyone picnicked, allowing you to feed him and laughing together at his younger siblings’ antics with you draped across him. But these would always be your favourite times. Having to abandon your love at the end of every ball, promenade afternoon, or luncheon during your brief courting period had been painful and thus being able to sit or curl up with your husband (the title still forming butterflies in your stomach at the idea of Anthony Bridgerton, all yours at last) was truly the highest of blessings. You held him tighter and heard him sigh with contentment in response, light kisses dancing along your increasingly exposed shoulder in pursuit of the heat spreading as if from your very heart and soul.
Neither of you knew how long you sat together like that, head resting on his shoulder as Anthony absentmindedly kept himself awake gently releasing your hairpins and running the other hand so gently up and down your spine that you began to slip between consciousness. The fruity drinks from earlier in the evening mixed sweetly with the soft kisses being pressed to your forehead and the feeling of your husband’s strong hands now moving their way under your arms and covered legs to pull the two of you away from the desk. He attempted to keep his steps light, staying aware of the many obstacles that stood between him and the comfort and security of the bedchamber on the floor above.
Anthony felt you stir gently in his arms when his foot had reached the final stair before your door. There were so many things the eldest Bridgerton had foreseen that would make up his future but the happiness he currently held like a precious gem never even crossed his mind. He had been old enough to remember much of his parent’s marriage and love story, though it became merely a dream or a fairy-tale once he became the patriarch of his family. Now, Anthony Bridgerton could allow himself these little moments, and the hope it would only continue to flourish and bloom – perhaps to allow him as his brother had, little combinations of himself and the love of his life. For now, though he was quite content to keep you all to himself.
“Tony?” Your lidded eyes looked to him, where he realised he’d been so lost in thought that the clock had ticked by another ten minutes in the same spot.
“Yes, my dove?”
A delicate un-gloved hand reached to cup his cheek, drawing your eyes together as though they may be able to hold the sheer immensity of emotion brimming.
“I love you.”
“As I love you, with every fibre of my being love.”
Clinging tighter to his broad body that shielded you, “take me to bed dear husband.” “As you wish Lady Bridgerton, as you wish.”
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Text
Kisses in the Study
Tumblr media
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
~~~~~
A/N: I’ve just finished buddy reading the Bridgerton books and thus I am heavily obsessed and refusing to live in the real world because it’s nowhere near as fun as regency land with these charming chaps. Just working on helping to fill the Tumblr void of fanfiction…
~~~~~
The front door closed softly as you stepped into the settled quiet of the house, the flickering streetlamps quashed in favour of the soft candles along the walls. By now you were very much looking forward to immediately traipsing to bed – an evening at Lady Danbury’s ladies’ night always enough to take it out of even the most experienced of partygoers. Shrugging your cloak from sloping shoulders to drape over the hook beside the hallway mirror, however, you were drawn from your sleepy reverie by the sight of a familiar warm glow slipping from the ajar door to your left. You let out a quiet sigh before slipping off your shoes, hoping to retain the hush that had settled with the emerging stars and the disappearing staff, and padded across the hall towards the tell-tale sign of life.
Not even the high-pitched whining from your push to the large door roused the snoring figure sprawled halfway across the dark oak desk that occupied a large section of the room’s centre. Hair tousled from the long fingers that had run through it in thought, the jacket he’d worn to your dinner now slung over the chaise you usually kept him company from (interpret as persistently annoy, nap, and read from) leaving his well-muscled forearms bare where he’d rolled the sleeves to avoid the inevitable ink spots, it was clear your husband had been holed away almost as long as you had been out of your home. You couldn’t help but sigh once more.
Anthony was perfectly aware of your view that he put far too much pressure on himself, whether directly as Viscount or as head of his increasingly large family or generally his positions in politics and society. Throughout your marriage to one another, you had spent many a weekend hunting him down to pull him out to the sunshine and late nights luring him back to bed with a tactical robe swish and coy smile.
A single lamp at the desk’s corner cast a soft illumination around the otherwise shadowed room; a light that seemed to have read your mind as it caressed your husband’s cheekbones, hugging his broad frame, and tickling the stray strands of chestnut hair hanging over his brow. Great swathes of the ton constantly declared the Bridgerton brothers interchangeable, ‘once you’ve encountered one you’ve encountered them all’ had many a wife and sister seeing red in the tea rooms even a particularly memorable run-in at the modiste involving an outspoken (supposedly previously jilted) debutante and Sophie Bridgerton. But this couldn’t be farther from the truth. It was in the way Anthony (usually) held his tongue in public whereas Colin had more than once had to be pulled away from declaring a duel in the minute of the street, it was Benedict’s blossoming success in the art world alongside Colin’s ventures in publishing his journals, it was Gregory sneaking his peas to Daphne in exchange for her carrots and the pairing off that the eight siblings had subconsciously created. Anthony was never just Bridgerton #1 or Viscount Bridgerton. He was a husband, a protector, a quick wit and occasionally a comic, an accomplished horseman, an intensely competitive personality, a constant presence by your side with a hand upon yours or your arm whenever you left the house together – much to the chagrin of society who felt spouses should exist separately in the social sphere, heaven forbid showing any affection. He was a surrogate father to his youngest siblings, a fierce pall mall player, a shoulder for his mother even after she had moved into Number Five, the eldest child but truly sometimes with the maturity of Daphne’s youngest boy.
Here in the relative darkness of the home you shared, all those things flooded the space around you. The temptation to leave the snoozing man to what would inevitably be a sore neck and dead arm come morning as an ‘I told you so’ was weighing against your sudden, though really always present, desire to drag him with you so that the two of you could curl up with one another in the warmth and comfort of mounds of sheets and sleep in his embrace.
Your inner argument was taken from your hands when, as you took a few steps closer, the once peaceful murmurs became a discontent snort that became a full-body jerk that left Anthony upright in the chair and blinking heavily into the gloom. “Good evening Lord Bridgerton, is there something wrong with your bedchamber?”
Clearly previously unaware of your presence in his study, the jarring sound of your voice at his side shook the last of the sleep from the dishevelled gentleman’s body. Attempting to fight a yawn that threatened to dispel his argument, Anthony turned with a sheepish smile, “I thought I’d just cast a quick eye over the accounts George sent over today before you came home so you had my undivided attention darling.” Cocking an eyebrow at your husband, he could already tell you didn’t believe a word emerging so eloquently past his yawns.
Appearing to finally take note of your attire, however, a small smile found its way across his handsome features. “Knowing Lady Danbury as I do, I assume I’ve been sat here much longer than I originally thought if I am waking to your return? I do hope you didn’t lose ALL of our money hmm?” You dropped a light kiss across his temple that made him shiver despite the still warm room, before standing back with your hands placed upon your hips.
“I shall blame your not so thinly veiled insult to my abilities on your exhaustion mon cœur, although I am now reconsidering sharing my winnings…”
A long arm slowly reaching out in your direction signalled that your husband, who was smirking sleepily, had decided to pursue the distraction route in penance for overworking himself and the light-hearted dig. Too tired to give him a lecture, knowing he truly meant well most of the time and finding it dreadfully difficult to form any objection to the warmth of his hand on your skin and the earnest love in his eyes, you allowed a hand to hook behind your back and pull you to rest on your husband’s well-built thighs. Time together was often sparse during the weekdays with his responsibilities and your social expectations but, now two years into your marriage and still just as loved up as your courting days, Anthony had become determined to carve out time with you. He had even endured his brothers’ ribbing on a visit to the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens one summer day just to see you beaming as everyone picnicked, allowing you to feed him and laughing together at his younger siblings’ antics with you draped across him. But these would always be your favourite times. Having to abandon your love at the end of every ball, promenade afternoon, or luncheon during your brief courting period had been painful and thus being able to sit or curl up with your husband (the title still forming butterflies in your stomach at the idea of Anthony Bridgerton, all yours at last) was truly the highest of blessings. You held him tighter and heard him sigh with contentment in response, light kisses dancing along your increasingly exposed shoulder in pursuit of the heat spreading as if from your very heart and soul.
Neither of you knew how long you sat together like that, head resting on his shoulder as Anthony absentmindedly kept himself awake gently releasing your hairpins and running the other hand so gently up and down your spine that you began to slip between consciousness. The fruity drinks from earlier in the evening mixed sweetly with the soft kisses being pressed to your forehead and the feeling of your husband’s strong hands now moving their way under your arms and covered legs to pull the two of you away from the desk. He attempted to keep his steps light, staying aware of the many obstacles that stood between him and the comfort and security of the bedchamber on the floor above.
Anthony felt you stir gently in his arms when his foot had reached the final stair before your door. There were so many things the eldest Bridgerton had foreseen that would make up his future but the happiness he currently held like a precious gem never even crossed his mind. He had been old enough to remember much of his parent’s marriage and love story, though it became merely a dream or a fairy-tale once he became the patriarch of his family. Now, Anthony Bridgerton could allow himself these little moments, and the hope it would only continue to flourish and bloom – perhaps to allow him as his brother had, little combinations of himself and the love of his life. For now, though he was quite content to keep you all to himself.
“Tony?” Your lidded eyes looked to him, where he realised he’d been so lost in thought that the clock had ticked by another ten minutes in the same spot.
“Yes, my dove?”
A delicate un-gloved hand reached to cup his cheek, drawing your eyes together as though they may be able to hold the sheer immensity of emotion brimming.
“I love you.”
“As I love you, with every fibre of my being love.”
Clinging tighter to his broad body that shielded you, “take me to bed dear husband.” “As you wish Lady Bridgerton, as you wish.”
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OH MY GOD I FREAKING LOVE YOUR BRIDGERTON FICS AHHHHH
for real though you write them So Well and it’s absolutely amazing
Honestly my inbox at the moment is doing big things for my ego - I love you all and every piece of feedback is burrowed away just for me <3
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Also still send any requests! I have a few Anthony’s in the works from lovely followers but your thoughts and ideas are ALWAYS appreciated this page is for us all 🥰 safe space for simps of all genres 😂👻
I just read ‘Kisses In The Study’ and absolutely loved it! Do you plan on writing any more for Anthony??? If not, I shall have to send in a request lol.
I’m actually overwhelmed by how much love Kisses in the Study has received 🥺 I absolutely do plan on continuing in the Bridgerton world and have received a couple of requests for Anthony so will definitely be getting to them!! (You’re not being ignored lovely requesters!)
I’ve recently just moved into my own place and am getting settled but I fully hope to jump back to writing for you lovely people this week ❤️❤️
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I just read ‘Kisses In The Study’ and absolutely loved it! Do you plan on writing any more for Anthony??? If not, I shall have to send in a request lol.
I’m actually overwhelmed by how much love Kisses in the Study has received 🥺 I absolutely do plan on continuing in the Bridgerton world and have received a couple of requests for Anthony so will definitely be getting to them!! (You’re not being ignored lovely requesters!)
I’ve recently just moved into my own place and am getting settled but I fully hope to jump back to writing for you lovely people this week ❤️❤️
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Before I do send a request, I was wondering of you’d be happy to write more Anthony?? I absolutely love him lol and your latest fic was amazing and i felt he was really in character!
I can ABSOLUTELY say I could never turn down more Bridgerton boys on my page so request away lovely! I did worry a little about Anthony because I wanted to do him justice despite being a huge Benedict girl 😳 so that is SO wonderful to hear thank you so much 🥰🥰
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To my fellow fanfiction readers,
When you're feeling alone, when you're sad, scared, lost, when you feel broken please try and remember this.
Your comfort character? Would absolutely adore you. They would think you were amazing, flaws and all. They would sit with you when you cried, they'd help you through every hardship.
They're here sweetheart, they're waiting for you, waiting for you to find the new story of your love, to revisit how you first met. They're so ready to fall in love with you all over again, and they will. Because they adore you. So please take care or yourself sweet one, they'd be so lost without you.
So what will it be tonight, friends to lovers? A/B/O? The one bed trope? Found family? Will you find eachother again after a time apart? Will it be smut or fluff? Love at first sight? Enemies to lovers? It's always exciting to start again isn't it? To rediscover how much you adore them.
I hope tomorrow is easier to live through than today, that you find that fic you're looking for, that safe place to land.
Remember your comfort character believes in you and so do I, the random girl on Tumblr, scrolling along with you, trying to make sure no one feels as alone as when they started. You are loved, matter, you are worth everything.
~💛❤True
5K notes · View notes
Text
Kisses in the Study
Tumblr media
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
~~~~~
A/N: I’ve just finished buddy reading the Bridgerton books and thus I am heavily obsessed and refusing to live in the real world because it’s nowhere near as fun as regency land with these charming chaps. Just working on helping to fill the Tumblr void of fanfiction…
~~~~~
The front door closed softly as you stepped into the settled quiet of the house, the flickering streetlamps quashed in favour of the soft candles along the walls. By now you were very much looking forward to immediately traipsing to bed – an evening at Lady Danbury’s ladies’ night always enough to take it out of even the most experienced of partygoers. Shrugging your cloak from sloping shoulders to drape over the hook beside the hallway mirror, however, you were drawn from your sleepy reverie by the sight of a familiar warm glow slipping from the ajar door to your left. You let out a quiet sigh before slipping off your shoes, hoping to retain the hush that had settled with the emerging stars and the disappearing staff, and padded across the hall towards the tell-tale sign of life.
Not even the high-pitched whining from your push to the large door roused the snoring figure sprawled halfway across the dark oak desk that occupied a large section of the room’s centre. Hair tousled from the long fingers that had run through it in thought, the jacket he’d worn to your dinner now slung over the chaise you usually kept him company from (interpret as persistently annoy, nap, and read from) leaving his well-muscled forearms bare where he’d rolled the sleeves to avoid the inevitable ink spots, it was clear your husband had been holed away almost as long as you had been out of your home. You couldn’t help but sigh once more.
Anthony was perfectly aware of your view that he put far too much pressure on himself, whether directly as Viscount or as head of his increasingly large family or generally his positions in politics and society. Throughout your marriage to one another, you had spent many a weekend hunting him down to pull him out to the sunshine and late nights luring him back to bed with a tactical robe swish and coy smile.
A single lamp at the desk’s corner cast a soft illumination around the otherwise shadowed room; a light that seemed to have read your mind as it caressed your husband’s cheekbones, hugging his broad frame, and tickling the stray strands of chestnut hair hanging over his brow. Great swathes of the ton constantly declared the Bridgerton brothers interchangeable, ‘once you’ve encountered one you’ve encountered them all’ had many a wife and sister seeing red in the tea rooms even a particularly memorable run-in at the modiste involving an outspoken (supposedly previously jilted) debutante and Sophie Bridgerton. But this couldn’t be farther from the truth. It was in the way Anthony (usually) held his tongue in public whereas Colin had more than once had to be pulled away from declaring a duel in the minute of the street, it was Benedict’s blossoming success in the art world alongside Colin’s ventures in publishing his journals, it was Gregory sneaking his peas to Daphne in exchange for her carrots and the pairing off that the eight siblings had subconsciously created. Anthony was never just Bridgerton #1 or Viscount Bridgerton. He was a husband, a protector, a quick wit and occasionally a comic, an accomplished horseman, an intensely competitive personality, a constant presence by your side with a hand upon yours or your arm whenever you left the house together – much to the chagrin of society who felt spouses should exist separately in the social sphere, heaven forbid showing any affection. He was a surrogate father to his youngest siblings, a fierce pall mall player, a shoulder for his mother even after she had moved into Number Five, the eldest child but truly sometimes with the maturity of Daphne’s youngest boy.
Here in the relative darkness of the home you shared, all those things flooded the space around you. The temptation to leave the snoozing man to what would inevitably be a sore neck and dead arm come morning as an ‘I told you so’ was weighing against your sudden, though really always present, desire to drag him with you so that the two of you could curl up with one another in the warmth and comfort of mounds of sheets and sleep in his embrace.
Your inner argument was taken from your hands when, as you took a few steps closer, the once peaceful murmurs became a discontent snort that became a full-body jerk that left Anthony upright in the chair and blinking heavily into the gloom. “Good evening Lord Bridgerton, is there something wrong with your bedchamber?”
Clearly previously unaware of your presence in his study, the jarring sound of your voice at his side shook the last of the sleep from the dishevelled gentleman’s body. Attempting to fight a yawn that threatened to dispel his argument, Anthony turned with a sheepish smile, “I thought I’d just cast a quick eye over the accounts George sent over today before you came home so you had my undivided attention darling.” Cocking an eyebrow at your husband, he could already tell you didn’t believe a word emerging so eloquently past his yawns.
Appearing to finally take note of your attire, however, a small smile found its way across his handsome features. “Knowing Lady Danbury as I do, I assume I’ve been sat here much longer than I originally thought if I am waking to your return? I do hope you didn’t lose ALL of our money hmm?” You dropped a light kiss across his temple that made him shiver despite the still warm room, before standing back with your hands placed upon your hips.
“I shall blame your not so thinly veiled insult to my abilities on your exhaustion mon cœur, although I am now reconsidering sharing my winnings…”
A long arm slowly reaching out in your direction signalled that your husband, who was smirking sleepily, had decided to pursue the distraction route in penance for overworking himself and the light-hearted dig. Too tired to give him a lecture, knowing he truly meant well most of the time and finding it dreadfully difficult to form any objection to the warmth of his hand on your skin and the earnest love in his eyes, you allowed a hand to hook behind your back and pull you to rest on your husband’s well-built thighs. Time together was often sparse during the weekdays with his responsibilities and your social expectations but, now two years into your marriage and still just as loved up as your courting days, Anthony had become determined to carve out time with you. He had even endured his brothers’ ribbing on a visit to the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens one summer day just to see you beaming as everyone picnicked, allowing you to feed him and laughing together at his younger siblings’ antics with you draped across him. But these would always be your favourite times. Having to abandon your love at the end of every ball, promenade afternoon, or luncheon during your brief courting period had been painful and thus being able to sit or curl up with your husband (the title still forming butterflies in your stomach at the idea of Anthony Bridgerton, all yours at last) was truly the highest of blessings. You held him tighter and heard him sigh with contentment in response, light kisses dancing along your increasingly exposed shoulder in pursuit of the heat spreading as if from your very heart and soul.
Neither of you knew how long you sat together like that, head resting on his shoulder as Anthony absentmindedly kept himself awake gently releasing your hairpins and running the other hand so gently up and down your spine that you began to slip between consciousness. The fruity drinks from earlier in the evening mixed sweetly with the soft kisses being pressed to your forehead and the feeling of your husband’s strong hands now moving their way under your arms and covered legs to pull the two of you away from the desk. He attempted to keep his steps light, staying aware of the many obstacles that stood between him and the comfort and security of the bedchamber on the floor above.
Anthony felt you stir gently in his arms when his foot had reached the final stair before your door. There were so many things the eldest Bridgerton had foreseen that would make up his future but the happiness he currently held like a precious gem never even crossed his mind. He had been old enough to remember much of his parent’s marriage and love story, though it became merely a dream or a fairy-tale once he became the patriarch of his family. Now, Anthony Bridgerton could allow himself these little moments, and the hope it would only continue to flourish and bloom – perhaps to allow him as his brother had, little combinations of himself and the love of his life. For now, though he was quite content to keep you all to himself.
“Tony?” Your lidded eyes looked to him, where he realised he’d been so lost in thought that the clock had ticked by another ten minutes in the same spot.
“Yes, my dove?”
A delicate un-gloved hand reached to cup his cheek, drawing your eyes together as though they may be able to hold the sheer immensity of emotion brimming.
“I love you.”
“As I love you, with every fibre of my being love.”
Clinging tighter to his broad body that shielded you, “take me to bed dear husband.” “As you wish Lady Bridgerton, as you wish.”
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Can I request a one shot of Draco x reader where the reader is bisexual and she is dating Draco and has decided to tell him but is nervous and scared of his reaction. She tells him and he says that he knows since before they got together he would see her check out other girls and it ends all fluffy?
Absolutely I can, thank you so much, I hope I did it justice for you <3 sorry for the delay long week! as my first lovely requester, you get 2 cute Draco gifs for the price of one (and because as a pansexual Libra with anxiety I can't make choices...)
A/N: I'm glad I apparently give off queer energy because, especially as a teenager still figuring herself out, these little 'coming outs' to new partners and friends can feel so intimidating and you can end up worry yourself silly. I hope this reassures at least one person, that the right people will stick around. Also, I may have gotten a little carried away here...
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader
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Being a teenager is weird and confusing and difficult for everyone, but when you add grappling with your romantic and sexual identity to that? It can make you want to curl up in several duvets and hide in your four-poster or be swallowed up by the Giant Squid. Reading a muggle magazine your friend had not so covertly loaned to you one day, however, and discovering the term 'bisexual' was like when you'd put on your Hogwarts robes and sat at your house table for the first time. That feeling of lightness and belonging would forever be difficult to replicate but this was as close as you'd ever felt since, a recognition of yourself. It still wasn't a hot topic at Hogwarts, so there was no big coming out, but you found yourself revealing it to each person you felt comfortable sharing with.
The only person close to you you hadn't had the conversation with was your boyfriend Draco.
Dating Draco Malfoy was nothing short of wonderful. Somehow you'd stayed pretty separate in your early school years, paired up in the occasional lesson and civil smiles shared across hallways - kindness from you to everyone you knew, a far rarer sentiment from the blonde Slytherin. But when fifth-year came around you found yourselves in more classes together, then bumping into each other in the library and moving to study together, then getting lunch together and opening up to one another. Finally, he had turned on his heel to face you on the way out of the Great Hall one day and asked you on a proper date, which became a second and third and fourth and then the comfortable loving relationship you built together.
It wasn't that Draco had ever given you a reason to think he would react badly but people had surprised you before (sometimes for the worst) and girls and boys alike had been cruel to your face. Some of the girls in your house stopped wanting to come to your dorm or be in the changing rooms worried you'd 'make a move' or something dumb and a few people went down the 'greedy and threesomes' avenue which was... equally not as fun... So the idea that your Draco would ever look at you like that wasn't worth thinking about. Pansy was adamant you should talk to him and that, despite his prejudiced hideous father's own views (though Pans may have used different words), he wouldn't even think of being so cruel. Something she endeavoured to shake into you at any and all times.
That hadn't completely stopped your worries but you did begin to start preparing yourself to tell him. Unfortunately, ever the perceptive observer, Draco seemed to take this nervousness and stress as being about your relationship. He noticed all the late nights in your dorm without him, the sweaty palms that drew away from him in the corridor, the extra time spent with Parkinson huddled together and clamming up when he arrived - just one would have been enough to send a poor guy a little insane. He's about a snitch's wing away from a full breakdown when Draco Malfoy finds himself sitting with you curled up against his side for warmth in a gradually emptying common room one Friday night.
He's been struggling to breathe since you sat down but was honestly so glad you'd snuggled yourself next to him that he'd begun to forget the weeks of worrying. Not realising of course, that you were also sat there filled with anxiety at the prospect of baring yourself to him. When you suddenly drew yourself to sit with your legs crossed facing your boyfriend, he thought his heart and stomach were going to drop out of his ass. Expecting the worst, Draco inhales sharply and clings to his knees before looking at you with eyes akin to a kicked puppy dog.
You knew waiting any longer would just keep you talking yourself out of it so, with your fingers gravitating to fiddle with the silver locket Draco had clasped around your neck on your birthday, you sucked in a breath and barrelled every word you could in the direction of the Slytherin across the sofa.
"I need to tell you something. I don't want to have to hide any of myself from you anymore when you've tried to be so open and vulnerable with me." Hands moving from nervous fiddling to anxious gestures, you explained the muggle magazine, the conversations with friends and internet interactions, pinning down your identity and shaping the journey to him up to being comfortable in your bisexuality, Draco stayed terrifyingly silent through it all. His lack of response and the worry already bubbling around you only serves to worsen your verbal diarrhoea and give him an out.
"Obviously if you don't want to deal with me anymore or you don't trust me or or you need more details or less or you don't I mean you don't believe me -"
The feeling of slender fingers wrapping themselves around your hands dragged you from your stormy mind to meet the intensely affectionate, painfully soft gaze of the Malfoy greys. Being drawn out of your rambling and fear, you finally realise he's looking at you with love but also as though you have grown an extra head? Merlin's beard, he must think you're disgusting and is just being kind to let you down slowly. What you don't expect are the words he chooses next.
"Don't be daft."
"Pardon?" Godric he thinks you're making it all up, he hates you -
"Wait. Were you worried about telling me? Is THIS why you've been distant and secretive? Y/N I THOUGHT YOU WERE LEAVING ME!" Your distinguished blonde boyfriend practically throws his head back with the giggles that suddenly wrack his body, before evidently getting a grip on himself at the lack of colour still evident across your face. At this point Draco doesn't think anything he could say will stop you from looking like you'd just encountered a dementor, instead, he turns on the sofa and wraps his long arms around your body to pull you as gently as possible onto his lap.
"Oh, my dove." He breathes soft reassurances against your temple, quelling your thrumming heart and mind with his heartfelt sentiments and tight cuddles that wrap you in physically and emotionally pillowed comfort.
Draco pulls away only to take your cheeks in his hands and draw your gaze to his. He needs you to know, he says, that he knew or at least suspected in some sense, but there was no word for it in his upbringing so perhaps you'd opened things up for him too.
"Importantly, centrally, solely, it is just another part of you to know and love," each word punctuated by a soft kiss to your face, "I am yours as you are mine, nothing, not even being savaged by a Cornish Pixie, would drag me away from you."
Feeling the heat creep up your cheeks, you can only bury your face in his shoulder and tighten your hold on him. Being in a relationship with Draco doesn't make you any less bisexual, it doesn't make you any less deserving of his love, it is another thing to know about you; like the way you have your morning drink, the order you get dressed, the way your face lights up when you tell stories, the feel of your hand in his when he sees his family owl arrive at breakfast. All you, all his, all together.
You stay entwined in one another for what could be hours or days, breathing in sync, sharing smiles and kisses, happy in the comfortable silence.
"Of course, I started to catch on in third year," you raise an eyebrow in question to him. "You're far less subtle about flirting with and eyeballing girls than you ever were about your feelings for me!"
Attempting to stifle a giggle of your own, you fail to smooth your face into severity. "Shut up Dray."
"Yes ma'am."
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At some point today, while I was at work, I hit 200 followers!
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200 pairs of eyes on my little corner of the Internet and the writing I put out into the world, how ridiculous 😳🥰 thank you so much for all the love, the reblogs, the likes ✨ it’s a very busy week but I’m hoping to get some little celebration pieces out this weekend for you all alongside my first request - if there’s anything you’d love to see or indulge in I’d love to hear!
Basically, I appreciate every single one of you who clicks that follow button ❤️ you make my day
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MASTERLIST
Hi I’m Hollie, welcome to my little simpy corner of the Internet!
I’ve put together a masterlist of everything I’ve written so you can find who or what you’re looking for, or just have a browse like a lovely bookstore.
Feel free to DM with any questions and my requests are always open!
Harry Potter:
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Marvel:
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Criminal Minds:
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Vampire Diaries/The Originals:
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Bridgerton:
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Miscellaneous Characters:
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Actors:
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Miscellaneous Characters:
For all those characters I haven't written much of/haven't dabbled in enough of the universe/new wrote for a bit of fun or request/or am hoping to add!
Game of Thrones:
Insecurity as Robb Stark's wife
Being loved by Jon Snow
Doctor Who:
The Eleventh Doctor's companion
Rory, the Doctor, and technology
Reunited with the Doctor as an adult
Merlin:
Being betrothed to another - Arthur Pendragon
Merlin overhears your feelings
Gwain defends your honour
X-Men:
Joining the school with Pietro
Helping Scott control his powers
Logan's wife
The Mortal Instruments:
Protective Jace
Meeting Simon
Entertaining at your wedding ball - Mr Darcy
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Actors:
Imagines:
Tom missing you on the red carpet
Making Colin Firth nervous
Long-distance with Jude Law
Dancing with Seb
Moving house with Matthew Lewis
Long-distance with Seb
Drabbles:
Summers with Tom Hiddleston
One Shots:
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Vampire Diaries
Imagines:
Protective Elijah
Soft Damon
Klaus' long lost love
Drabbles:
One Shots:
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Bridgerton
Imagines:
Drabbles:
One Shots:
An Evening in the Clouds - Benedict Bridgerton
Kisses in the Study - Anthony Bridgerton
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