regencyrosalie

[regencyrosalie]

anthony who does not admit to anyone when he’s sick. not even himself. until he’s married and his wife enters the study after hearing him cough a few times, seeing him leaning his head on his hand, his tired eyes scanning the ledgers in front of him.

“you’re sick,” she says as she pads towards him, her hand rubbing soothing circles onto his back.

“of course i’m not,” he replied in what he thought was a dismissive tone, but was actually quite weak.

“of course you’re not,” she rolled her eyes, “now get up and get to bed. i’ll bring you some tea and honey. and medicine.”

“no, love, i’m quite occupied-“

“i wasn’t asking, dear,” she smiled, kissing his cheek softly.

but the next morning he laid in their bed as she tended to him, insisting that he was on his deathbed. she merely smiled, stroking his hair softly. “you will not die before you finish that damn soup, anthony bridgerton.”

[regencyrosalie]

modern!anthony bridgerton texts like hes 90 years old.

you forget to call his work phone to tell him that you arrived somewhere safe and he finds his iphone 6 in the back of his drawer and texts you like:

“Where are you? Please let me know. I love you very much. X.”

“i love you too! just got here, sorry i forgot to call :) what time are we having dinner tonight again???”

“Hello love. Dinner is at 8 o’clock. I will see you there. XX.”

like ???? ok thanks count dracula?? tf??

[regencyrosalie]

Hey there! <3 I really loved the way you write about modern! Anthony and I was wondering on maybe doing something with Benedict?

I was thinking always a modern one, either a xreader or maybe dating! headcanons!

in that case, thanks in anticipation and have a good day/night!!🩷🌸

hi hon ! thank you so much for sending an ask ! im going to structure this like i did for my anthony hc’s, i hope thats okay! im working on a fic rn that’ll be out hopefully soon!

biblically accurate modern!benedict hcs

- benedict WILL draw you

- he will draw quick little silly sketches of you in funny outfits and hats with exaggerated eyes and show them to you while giggling relentlessly

- but he also has an entire sketchbook filled with accurate and detailed drawings/paintings of you. he gets bashful every time you find a new one.

- may or may not have a caffeine addiction

- when you move in with him he moves his little art corner to a different room so you can still sleep while he works

- will get frustrated and come back into the bedroom and watch you sleep until he gets motivated/inspired again

- he loves dogs, specifically small dogs. chihuahuas are probably his favorite but he wont tell anyone.

- his sleep schedule is HORRIBLE, but it evens out when you live together because he wants to fall asleep with you.

- speaking of, i feel like Benedict is a human heater

- which is amazing during the winter

- but when it’s hot it is actually torture because hes trying to fall asleep practically on top of you.

- and youre like PLEASE get the FHUCK off of me and then he pouts and huffs until you make it work or he falls asleep

- benedict is close with every one of his siblings. but especially anthony and eloise.

- has funny uncle vibes

- especially with the younger siblings. he will sneak them candy and also probably money.

- anthony and violet have yet to find out

- i think he probably likes savory foods more than sweets, but will eat anything you make him.

- i feel like hes fully clothed about 50% of the time. the man despises pants i can just feel it in my bones.

- favorite color is red. he likes the versatility.

- cannot sing. but will sing. and will sing loudly. every shower is a concert.

- probably the closest with his mother

- love language is quality time

- this means picnic dates, movie dates, target run dates, going to the grocery store dates

- will make you handwritten cards and paintings for holidays, and puts sticky notes with sappy notes and bad pickup lines on everything you own.

- other than visual art, i think he has a few other hobbies. he likes movies, in fact, he pretty much likes every movie he watches. cant get into shows though, his attention span is not long enough. he also likes puzzles, and will frame them and keep them hoarded in his closet.

- i think a part of him is still grieving his father. violet was in constant agony after he died, and anthony was busy inheriting everything and dealing with the trauma of witnessing it: so benedict was left to pick up the pieces with the rest of the siblings. ie. explain what happened to the younger ones, try to cheer them up, etc.

- for that reason, i don’t think he ever really processed it completely, and he gets weirdly quiet when he thinks about it too long.

- cant be in anthony’s office for more than an hour at a time, because it used to be edmunds, and all he can think of is how he would pester his father all day while he worked.

[regencyrosalie]

reposting this because i love these so much

biblically accurate modern!husband!anthony hc’s 🤍

first post here ! <3 i hope u love it <3

- anthony “i love my wife” bridgerton trying to go about his daily life when he quite literally wants to stay in bed all day with you.

- anthony is THE lightest sleeper on earth. if you get up at night, you’ll come back to the bedroom and hes just sitting up in bed half asleep like 🧍🏻‍♂️

- speaking of, if you even want to get up, you’ll have to wriggle out of his death grip. he will hold onto you throughout the entire night, and if it’s hot, he’ll make sure to have a hand sprawled across the bed onto you.

- sometimes you have to remind him to back off a little because he genuinely acts like you might die every time you leave the house

- insists you call/text him (preferably call) when you arrive at at wherever you’re going so he know you didn’t get hit by a car or something on the way there

- speaking of, Anthony texts like he he does not understand what a phone is.

- quite literally really only uses his dad’s old desk phone and emails. he owns an iphone 7 that is usually sitting in the back of his bedside drawer for days at a time.

- he loves all of his siblings equally, but Hyacinth has him wrapped around her finger at all times.

- will do pretty much anything for his wife, but is much more firm with his siblings.

- which is why every time they need something and you aren’t around, Hyacinth is sent to give him her best puppy eyes. he folds almost instantly every time without fail.

- genuinely does not really have many “friends” that aren’t also family. he used to in college, but he just doesn’t find it necessary anymore, and also doesn’t have the time.

- he has reading glasses. enough said.

- scared of bugs.

- talks about pretty much everything with Benedict, who he’s probably closest with in his family besides his mother.

- used to play with/take care of Hyacinth as a baby when Violet was grieving.

- sometimes struggles to pronounce big words when he’s arguing and it pisses him off so much he has to leave the room.

- likely has most of his siblings set up with a therapist, but doesn’t get one for himself until his wife tells him to.

- all of his spaces are organized meticulously, usually by color or number order.

- will check to make sure every door to the house is locked at least three times before going to bed.

- which can take up to an hour when staying at Aubrey Hall.

- we all see how he softened in season 3. his siblings tease him about it sometimes, but they’re all delighted. and he couldn’t care less. he thinks he is the luckiest man on earth and rolls his eyes every time he thinks of how angsty he was.

- if you have children, he’s the most loving father in the world. will wear a tutu if the need arises.

- he can’t have you in his office for more than thirty minutes or he gets distracted.

- he didn’t cry for years after his dad died, and now he cries about once a month.

- most animals love him for some reason.

- has nightmares relatively frequently after edmund dies, but they die down as he gets older.

- favorite color is navy blue. changes to light blue once he’s married.

- good with babies and toddlers from when hyacinth was little.

- you make him take breaks while he works everyday, and they become his favorite parts of the day. you bring him tea and sit in his lap and pet his hair, sometimes he falls asleep. he tells you to wake him up but you never do.

- still uses an alarm clock.

- refuses to leave bed until ten am every day.

- smells like sandalwood and cinnamon.

- idk why but i feel like he fucking LOVES sudoku puzzles.

- but dont ever ask him to do a real puzzle thats more than 50 pieces or he may start crying.

- type of mf to read actual newspapers.

- no one in the family has serious allergies, but he still keeps an epi pen everywhere just in case.

[regencyrosalie]

Hello! I hope you’re having a great week, i was wondering if you could please write a smutty enemies to lovers Benedict bridgerton x fem reader modern au?

Thanks for ur time!

heres a LIL blurby for benedict while im getting back into writing 😇🩵

warnings: MILD smut under the cut because im still warming up to posting again and im a scaredy cat ☹️, mdni

“So pretty, sweetheart,”

She has never liked Benedict Bridgerton. To say that he’s annoying would be a vast understatement. Every time he walks into her art class she is filled with an unexplainable rage.

Which does not explain why she’s in his personal studio, lying completely bare on a canvas, splattered in paint.

“When you said you needed help, this is not what I thought you meant,” she glared.

“But, nonetheless, here you are,” he grinned, kneeled beside her, painting around the outline of her body in rich purple.

She grumbled, unable to deny that when he had asked her so politely to take her dress off, she had obeyed almost instantly.

“And I think,” he continued, “that you’re doing a wonderful job, darling.”

She blushed at the praise, which only made him grin wider. He dropped his brush, and ran a hand through her hair, gently caressing her cheek.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Benedict said lowly.

“You tell me every time you see me,” she responded.

“No, I tell you you’re a pretty little thing. I’m telling you you’re beautiful.”

She hated the way she flushed, and even more-so how she leaned up to kiss him.

He was slightly surprised when she did, but not at all unwilling, in fact, his hands rode up her sides, and then around her waist.

“You’ll get paint on your clothes,” she whispered.

“Trying to get me naked?” he teased.

“Yes. Very much so.”

He grinned against her lips as she kissed him again, and unbuttoned his shirt, which was indeed already ruined with paint. She pushed it down his arms and onto the floor, before pulling him on top of her.

[regencyrosalie]

the bridgerton blues

pairing : anthony bridgerton x reader

fandom : bridgerton

synopsis : it's the first time after your wedding that anthony sees you sporting the signature bridgerton colour : blue, and it does things to him that he can only express in a much more....physical manner.

warnings : smut, heavy smut and excessive amount of fluff

a/n : i miss my grumpy viscount!!! happy reading :)

anthony huffed impatiently, foot tapping against the marble floor at bridgerton manor.

the season had begun again, and much to his relief, he would only be a spectator this year, having married the love of his life, lady, well, current viscountess y/n, which meant he didn't have to deal with the frills and fancies of the hawk like mama's in the ton, awaiting the right moment to swoop upon him with their daughters.

but by God, you were taking forever to get dressed and come down to leave for lady danbury's ball. beside him, benedict and colin sat, engrossed in a game of chess, while francesca and eloise lounged on the couch in the drawing room, catching up about life.

his mother was with his darling wife, much to his surprise, helping her get ready for a ball. he had been caught off guard when his mother had bustled in, dressed in a powdery blue gown, and had proceeded to shoo him out of the room.

"what exactly is keeping mama and y/n?" colin asked, brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on the chess board.

"if I knew I would tell you brother" anthony mumbled, checking the watch that hung on the golden chain from his waistcoat, smiling as he traced the cover, suddenly hit by a burst of nostalgia, and a surge of fondness for his late father.

he brushed it off when a giggling hyacinth came running down the staircase, leaping into his arms, forcing him to rush to catch her, eyes widening in surprise.

"hyacinth! you must always give me a prior warning or I may not be able to catch you" he chided, tucking a stray curl behind her ear and setting her gently on the ground.

"brother!! wait till you see y/n/n!! she looks like a princess!" his youngest sister exclaimed, almost vibrating with excitement. a shy gregory emerged, blushing a little as he nodded, making the three older bridgerton boys smirk, well aware of his little crush on anthony's wife.

when anthony had first befriended his wife, they had been at a mere age of ten, and anthony had rescued y/n when she had fallen off her horse at a picnic with his family and the cowper's.

ever since then, they had been inseparable, joint at the hip and at the heart.

it was of no surprise to anyone in the ton when finally, ages later, he had announced he was marrying the lady montgomery, or as everyone fondly knew her, "y/n/n"

"why so bashful greg?" benedict jested, watching his youngest brother turn a dark crimson.

"n-nothing" he stuttered out, darting in to see his sisters.

"it's because of y/n! I'm telling you brother, she looks like an absolute angel!" hyacinth chirped in, now bouncing about from step to step, just as the door of Anthony's room creaked open, and the dowager viscountess stepped out.

"she's ready" she smiled warmly at her son's, hurrying in to get her daughters to mark the momentous occasion.

brows furrowed, the eyes of the bridgertons rested upon the long winding staircase, awaiting to see what exactly was this magical outfit that had their mother and sister gushing like birds.

and what anthony saw, made his jaw drop to the very ground.

at the very top, his darling wife came into view, hair in sleek, meticulous curls, perfectly cast up in an intricate updo, adorned with pearls, framing her face with the delicate curls. her makeup was subtle, emphasizing her flowing complexion with a touch of rosy blush and wine coloured lips.

she adorned a pearl necklace and matching earrings, gifted to her by anthony himself, adding a timeless elegance to her stature.

but what really caught everyones attention was the dress that she wore, more specifically, the colour of the dress she wore.

a rich dark blue silk gown, carefully tailored, hugged her frame, showcasing the intricate details that add to its allure. the bodice, adorned with delicate embroidery, depicting subtle butterfly motifs that caught the light as the she moved down the stairs. the neckline gracefully framed her collarbone, delicate lace butterflies attached to the neckline,while the sleeves tapered down to her wrists, showcasing more of the exquisite lacework that adorned her body.

the skirt of the gown was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, flowing generously in layers of silk that rustled with each step. the deep, rich hue of the fabric evoked a sense of opulence, reminiscent of midnight skies. as she walked down, the silk caught the light, casting a mesmerizing play of shadows and highlights.

the dress matched anthony's waistcoat perfectly, and the sight was enough to make the viscount choke over nothing.

as he saw his wife adorned in the resplendent dress for the first time, his eyes widened with genuine admiration.

a hushed gasp escaped his parted lips as he took in the sight before him.

his wife, cloaked in the elegance of the dark blue gown, the bridgerton blues appeared to be like a living portrait of timeless beauty.

a warm smile formed on his lips, expressing both surprise and deep appreciation for the grace and sophistication she was emanating.

"my darling" he murmured as he swept forward, extending his arm to welcome you into them.

smiling sweetly at the bridgerton clan, you floated down, linking your arm with anthony's.

"sister, you look utterly perfect in blue!" benedict exclaimed, pressing a delicate kiss to your hand, as violet fondly caressed your cheek.

"doesn't she look like a princess brother?!" hyacinth squealed, looking excitedly at anthony. "just like one out of the fairytales" he said, looking at you with nothing but admiration and love and fondness.

"you really do look utterly regal" colin said, flashing a warm smile at you. eloise and francesca came upto you, with even eloise admitting that the dress you were wearing was nothing short of a work of art, while francesca gushed over how the silhouette was so perfect for you.

"alright, we must leave if we want to reach lady danbury's ball on time!" violet said, clapping her hands, leading her children out to where the carriages awaited.

"wait behind for just a second my love" anthony whispered into your ear, as he walked up to his valet to whisper something into his ear.

slowly, the other bridgertons departed, after you promised them to join them very soon, ignoring the smirks and nudges colin and benedict sent your way.

anthony pulled you into his study, hand gently caressing your waist, feeling the rich silk in his hands, the other hand gently reaching for your chin, lifting it to look into your eyes.

"you look utterly divine my beloved" he whispered fingers gently fondling your face, eyes absorbing every detail of your face, not that he hadn't already memorised it.

"thank you my dear" you whispered back, hands settling on his broad shoulders, taking in his waistcoat as well, the dark blue velvet clinging to every rippling muscle in his body, brass buttons complementing the coat.

"i always knew you'd look stunning in bridgerton blue but....it seems as though the bridgerton blue was crafted for you" he murmured, tightening his grip on your waist, "so stunning that infact, i do not feel the need to leave for lady danbury's ball, for I'd much rather stay here with my breathtakingly beautiful wife" he murmured again, lips ghosting over your own as his hands squeezed your waist, drawing you flush against his body.

"my lord, we cannot... we must be present at the first ball of the season" you lamely protested, heart hammering against your chest as the intoxicating scent of his musky, woodsy cologne filled your nostrils.

anthony dropped his lips to your neck, lips brushing a feather soft kiss to the sensitive skin, drawing a gasp from you.

"what if we do not go? what if we just stay here and...i worship my wife in the way she deserves? like the goddess she is?" he asked, like gently pressing kisses down to your collarbone, still as light as a feather, just enough to ignite something feral in you, but also enough to keep you wanting more.

"my lord it's the first ball of the season, and we have to-"

you were cut off by anthony's lips pressing against yours.

they were soft and plush against yours, pressing perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle, initiating a warm glow in the pit of your tummy.

as your lips met, the sensation was like a feather's gentle caress — soft, fleeting, and subtly warm. it feels like a delicate dance, a tender exploration that sparked a gentle flutter within you. the touch was akin to the brush of downy feathers, teasing and inviting, as if he was testing the waters of intimacy.

yet, as the moment unfolded, a magnetic pull takes hold, drawing you deeper into the realm of passion. the softness transforms, gradually intensifying into a fiery connection. the initial delicacy gave way to a fervent exchange, each kiss building upon the other with a growing hunger.

your lips, once feather-light, were now engaged in a rhythmic and passionate dance. the subtle warmth amplified into a blazing fire, and what began as a gentle exploration evolved into a fervent expression of desire.

the world around you faded and in that heightened connection, every kiss becomes an electric charge, a testament to the undeniable chemistry between your two souls entwined in the artistry of passion.

anthony's hands ran rampant on your body, clutching every part of your body through the silk dress, yet taking care to not scrunch the silk in anyway.

"you have no idea what you do me darling" he growled against your lips, drawing back for just a moment to watch your chest heave and eyes glaze over, hands clutching his coat and cravat so tight he feared you would rip it off.

"every breath you take, every word you speak, the very sound of your melodious voice and the very beat of your heart, all allure me to you, draw me to you like a moth to a flame" he continued, his own heart hammering against his chest.

his chest rose and fell with every word, eyes ablaze with burning passion. "every second of every day, i crave you, i long for you, i need you, and it drives me feral. but the sight of you in my colour makes me want to rip off that very dress off your body, claiming you as mine in more ways than one" he growled, hands scrunching the material on your behind.

"anthony..i crave you every second of the day as well. i need you" you whispered, a soft whimper slipping past your lips.

"hush my sweet darling" he said, sending you a saccharine sweet smile.

then, much to your chagrin, he took his hands off your waist, fixing the material and fixing his own coat.

"now, we must hasten to lady danbury's" he smirked" and you groaned, a painful throbbing between your legs becoming more prominent.

"but my lord-" you protested, only to be cut off by another searing kiss. he kissed you deep and long, and then drew back, pushing a stray curl on your forehead back behind your ear.

"our family awaits dearest" he smiled, and gently led you out to the hall.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the grand ballroom at lady danbury's unfolded into a dazzling spectacle as it embraced the opulence of a gold and maroon theme. golden hues enveloped the space, casting a warm, regal glow. glittering chandeliers, adorned with intricate gold details, hung from the ceiling, their crystals refracting light in a dance of elegance.

luxurious maroon fabrics draped the walls, creating a sumptuous backdrop that added depth to the golden ambiance. tables adorned with golden tablecloths and maroon accents contributed to the harmonious blend of colors. golden candle holders flickered with the soft glow of candles, casting a gentle radiance on the rich maroon floral centerpieces.

the women's dresses shimmered with embellishments, and the men's attire featured accents, creating a visual symphony of sophistication, into which you walked with anthony, arms interlaced, as you bowed before queen charlotte, who had taken quite a liking to you.

"it's lovely to see the bridgertons led by a couple as magnanimous as you" she bestowed a rare compliment, bringing a hot flush to your cheeks and even to anthony's pale visage. "but now we anxiously await the news of a young bridgerton" she said pointedly, and you kept your eyes low, trying to ignore the heat blooming in your cheek.

around you, guests were engaged in a dance, the dance floor became a stage for a waltz of colors, with the many colours and tones reflecting in the mirrored walls. the orchestra, bathed in the warm ambiance, played melodies that echoed the richness of the color palette.

you noticed simon and daphne dancing, looking fondly at each other, and saw colin sharing a dance with young penelope featherington, which made you smile, always having harbored a soft spot for the girl.

you spotted eloise by the food table, with francesca, both enjoying the strawberries that were being served. benedict seemed engrossed in exploring the rich collection of paintings in the hall, and was surrounded by a group of friends.

anthony led you over to his sisters, a soft kiss to your wrist a promise to be back in a moment lingering on his lips, as he was dragged off by countless lords for a drink and a conversation about the next round of a hunt they were engaging in.

as eloise began to speak about the many cruelties of lady featherington, you spotted cressida cowper scowling over at the two of you, dressed in a pink so bright you felt momentarily blinded. she shot a contemptuous look at you, scoffing at your gown and sharing a laugh with lady cowper, that had your eyebrow creasing with insecurity.

much to your horror, she began to march over to you, along with her mother and lady featherington, much to your dismay. you searched desperately for your mother-in-law, but found her engrossed in conversation with the queen.

"my my, if it isn't the happy bridgertons" cressida sniped, flashing you a tight lipped smile. "hello miss cowper" you smiled, ignoring the anxiety bubbling in your tummy.

"cressida" eloise said coldly, linking her arm with yours. she was well aware of the contemptuous rumours she had spread about you when you had begun courting anthony and had made it her mission to protect you from her.

"what a rather unusual colour for you dear" lady cowper commented, eyes trailing down your body in disdain.

"it gives you the impression of being a little washed out" she stated, opening her fan to hide her smirk.

you ignored the tear that sprang to your eyes as she continued to comment, on the fall of the dress, the shape of the silhouette and the way your jewellery was far too showy.

you could feel eloise glowering beside you but silently begged her to keep calm, not wanting to lose her calm in front of everyone.

to your surprise, a familiar baritone cut in, a nd a strong arm wrapped around your midriff and waist.

your husband appeared beside you, a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"i see why you might think that, lady cowper, for all you can pull off is that rather obnoxious shade of viscous pink, and while i understand your envy at my wife's ability to outshine everyone else here in any colour she chooses, i must remind you are speaking to the viscountess bridgerton, and hence must adhere to the degree respect she commands" he stated coolly, hand gripping your waist so tight you were sure it would leave marks.

stunned speechless, the cowper's backed away, egos more than bruised and enraged , subject to sniggers and chuckles from the other lords and ladies in the room. your brother walked to anthony from across the hall, patting him on the back and whispering a "good man" to him as he hugged you, and eloise drew anthony into a hug as well.

anthony led the two of you over to his mama, who couldn't hide a smile herself at the love her son had for his wife, so reminiscent of the way their father had loved her.

"I am sorry if I caused humiliation to your name mama, but I cannot and will not let anyone talk to my wife that way" he said firmly, only to be cut off by his mother.

"I believe everyone here has been waiting to say that to miss cowper since the beginning of time, my darling, so take your wife and go home. you have done your job and proved your love and passion and told everyone that your relationship rhymes true" she said, drawing you into a warm hug and bidding you goodbye.

the carriage ride home was silent as your held anthony's hand tight, his thumb tracing patterns over the gloves you were donning, a pearly white to match your jewels.

"thank you my love" you whispered to him, eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

"my darling, i love you, all of you. please do not ever belittle yourself, because your beauty is awe worthy" he said, eyes contorted as if he was in pain at the thought of you being in pain.

"I'll try my best not to" you whispered against, leaning forward to press your foreheads together. and you stayed like that till bridgerton manor came into view.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

frenzied kisses were pressed against your lips as anthony lifted you into his arms, earning a singular gasp from your lips. his hands, one wrapped tightly under your bottom and the other around your back was strong, as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he led you upstairs, ignoring the scurrying valet and maids and your ladies in waiting as he made it to your shared bedroom.

he dropped you gently on the bed, towering above you, hands shoving the material of your dress up. his hands crept along your thighs stealthily, finding the hooks of your stockings to your thigh garter, slowly dragging it down, exposing your bare skin to him, suppressing a groan at the soft skin.

to his surprise you reached up and grabbed him by the cravat, untying it and pulling him down to meet your lips. you kissed him roughly, a frenzied battle, with teeth and tongue clashing as he shrugged off his waist coat and began to unbutton his shirt, watching as you removed your jewellery and kept in on the table beside his bed.

his hands reached for your dress, carefully untying the many laces and unbuttoning the many buttons on your dress, watching as your bosom heaved in the corset wore.

deft fingers unhooked the corset without a struggle, and you moaned when the cold air hit your nipples, making them harden, as you pushed your chest out towards him.

anthony growled, the sound reverberating in his throat as he reached down to unbutton his tan pants, leaving him in just his underwear. his lips attacked your neck, biting into the delicate flesh and pressing kiss after kiss, sucking deep marks and hickies that were sure to stay for days after.

you raked your nails up and down his neck, stroking the skin there and raking your hands upto his hair, gently scratching his scalp as he trailed kisses down to your breasts.

his mouth enveloped your nipple in his mouth, tongue flicking and swirling around the sensitive nub.

he continued his ministrations, taking only a moment to move his mouth to your other breast and leaving lovebites on the skin.

he settled in between your thoughts, hips gently grinding into yours, as he licked and sucked to his heart’s desire, attempting to alleviate the growing tent in his pants.

you were beginning to pant, and he continued to pinch and stroke your nipple. his tongue wreaked havoc on one while his fingers gently tugged on the other. anthony could not wait any longer, the pain of the straining in his pants making him more loopy than he would admit, and he pulled away from your breast, a string of saliva from his lips to your breast.

he came back up to your mouth, kissing you with desperation. "i adore you" he painted above you, before kissing down your tummy to your thighs.

he stopped at the junction between your thighs, inhaling the musk of your scent.  

he reached for the cotton underwear you had on, gently pulling it down, and pushing your thighs apart, and a wave of cold air floated across your inner thighs, so open and exposed now.

anthony began to press hot, open mouthed kisses to the bare expanse of your thighs, stopping just below your pussy lips each time.

mere moments later, you felt an entirely new sensation— anthony's wet, warm tongue sliding through your folds. a cry of pleasure ripped from your throat, as you looked down at anthony, who had crawled between your legs with his tongue buried at the apex of your thighs.

your slick dripped down your pussy lips, costing them in your honey, and anthony licked it all up as if it was nectar and ambrosia, lowering his face to lick a long strip through your entire slit, before tilting his face even deeper into your pussy, swirling around up to your engorged clit and licking all around it and on the top of it.

the action had your hips jolting as he sucked on the nub, causing flashes of white to flash before your eyes.

"you taste more delightful than i could ever have imagined" he breathed licking the sour-sweet liquid off his lips. "my own precious honey pot" he cooed, making you flush again and your body heated up.

he sucked harder on your clit, fingers slipping into your slit to slide up and down, each stroking made your hips flail wildly.

“you taste so sweet” he murmurs, and the brush of his breath sears against your skin. the low rumbling of his voice, so characteristic of him, are dripped in hunger and arousal, the heat spreading under your skin and threatening to explode like a supernova.

"i have longed to have you squirming on my tongue my love. i will have you screaming my name until your lips know no other" he promised.

with a ravenous look at your heaving form, anthony lowered his mouth to your throbbing center again and licked a bold stripe up your clit, the sensitive bud jolting in shock and you scream in pleasure,

the ever composed lord bridgerton moans against your cunt when you tug his hair, hands holding down your hips as he watches you squirm. then anthony rolls your clit with his teeth and you come apart with a scream, hands gripping onto his hair for dear life.

you come, cunt clenching down, spasming around his tongue where he has you stretched open. everything else disappears for a moment, your body weightless with pure unadulterated bliss.

anthony shifts so he is in between your legs again, watching the fluttering of your pussy as you clench around nothing. your eyes are trained on his hips and he feels a surge of pride.

his cock was one not only of great size but of greater girth and greater skill, and he adored nothing more than watching your eyes become as large as saucers as you looked at his poor cock straining again as it had been ever since he saw you in his signature colour.

trained hands guided his cock to your entrance, tapping against it for a few seconds before he dragged the tip through your slick, making your body shudder at the stimulation. and then, he pressed a kiss to your neck, hips slamming against yours.

the first thrust was deep and claiming,and you cried out at the perfect stretch of him in your pussy.

you could barely think straight, hands digging into his back and nails sinking into his skin.

"so fucking perfect,” he murmured into your ear, rasped and breathless as he nipped on your ear. "'feel so good wrapped around my cock. so wet and warm for me my sweet sweet beloved. fuck, you're so tight right now. squeezing me so well, you love my cock, do you not my angel?"

"yes yes i love you and your cock" you changed as a prayer, eyes bashful at the use of the dirty word. "look at how your cunt clenches around me" he groaned, head dipping into the crook of your neck as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly.

you could hear the headboard banging against the wall as the pace of anthony's thrusts had your body sliding against the silken sheets.

and then he stopped

he stayed there, buried inside you to the hilt, and his cock twitched excitedly inside you. you watched the way he gripped the bedsheets tightly with his fingers until they went hite. it sent heat and pleasure into the pit of your stomach and you were sure you are going to burn. it was far too good, far too much, brimming on the edge of being overwhelming. 

there’s no warning as he pulled out, leaving his pulsing tip in, and then he thrusted all the way back inside, in one long and slick stroke back inside you, deep and rough. his cock slammed into a spot in you that has you screaming, something absolutely fucking delicious and it steals away your breath and makes you cry out. 

and then he grabs your legs, pushing them up towards your legs as he almost folded you in half, pushing your legs so far apart they almost touched your head, as he moved to his knees for a better angle.

his hips thrusted wildly as he kept fucking you, hand rubbing furiously at your sensitive clit, as you whined and moaned and screamed. he watched as your cunt, pink and perfect fluttered and twitched, and his ears revelled at the sound of the filthy, wet squelching that echoed in the room from your dripping cunt.

he landed a harsh smack to the back of your thigh that had you screaming as he then pressed his tongue to it, sucking a hickey on the spot.

sweat dripped down his forehead and yours, as you began to thrust your hips up to meet his perfect strokes, while feeling like his cock was going to split you apart.

"i want nothing more than to fill you with my seed" he growled, over the sound of your skin slapping together over and over again.

"fill me with your seed my lord. let me have carry your kin" you murmured, and you watched as anthony groaned, hand wrapping around your throat.

"such a minx" he grinned, squeezing and watching your eyes roll back.

without a warning, he flipped you over so you were on top, and his deft hands steadied you at the waist.

then he began to slowly pick your hips up, working you up and down on his cock, slamming you up and down on his cock, until you got the hang of it.

anthony felt himself drooling as he took in the way your tits bounced and you bounced on his cock as you ride him, nails now scratching down his chest as he laid a harsh spank to your ass that had you clenching on his cock harder.

he watched your body desperately ride him for all he was worth, thighs jiggling as they clapped against his own, and he pinched the fat around your waist and belly, teeth nipping at your nipple to increase the stimulation.

"m-my lord! I am going to cum!" you moaned loudly, only to turn to a wail as anthony's fingers unleashed a furious assault on your clit, as he rubbed it up and down and side to side and everywhere, covering his fingers in your slick.

with a scream of his name, you came all over his dick and his tummy, your juices spilling out of you like a fountain, watching as he scooped it up with his fingers to lick it clean.

he slammed your hips down on his even harder as you whined, and you felt his stomach tense and breathing stutter as he came, shooting his load inside you, and finally sinking into the pillow, limp.

panting, you rolled off of him, mind cockdrunk and unable to move. anthony peppered kisses to your skin and kissed the spots where he'd been rough.

"you were phenomenal, my love" he whispered, and to your intrigue, his fingers trialed down to your cunt.

you watched as he gently slid a finger in to your hole, shushing and kissing you as he blocked it with his fingers.

"i cannot have a single drop of me spilling out of you" he murmured and you moaned.

"i adore you", he mumbled, "my dear wife" he concluded.

"and i adore you, my dear husband" you smiled, meeting his lips in a sugar sweet kiss.

who would've known that wearing the bridgerton blue was all it would take for you and anthony to announce to the ton in the next three months that you were expecting the first bridgerton heir?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : I've missed writing for bridgerton so much!! i really hope you enjoy this, and as always likes reblogs comments opinions etc are appreciated!! sending u all love and happiness and remember, my inbox is always open and i love making new friends!! happy reading ☺️♥️

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[regencyrosalie]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI • Anthony Bridgerton x Reader • The Viscount’s visits to your bedroom have become regular, beautiful occurrences by now, but he still has much to teach you. Includes oral sex (f receiving) and talk of losing virginity.

PART ONE | PART TWO

By now, the visits Lord Bridgerton made to your room in the night were familiar…a beautiful ritual kept secret from everyone else in Mayfair. You waited by the window for his arrival, for his wordless entry into your bedchamber, an eager student anticipating her instructor’s next lesson.

And the viscount was indeed an excellent teacher. While his presence alone was more than enough to send your body into a spiral of desire, his mouth in particular had become the object of your deepest need. At first, his kisses remained as chaste as they could be under the circumstances, tracing your lips, cheeks and chin. But as your nights together progressed, Anthony’s kisses trailed lower, sucking and licking down your neck and along your shoulders.

By his own standards, Anthony was restraining himself tremendously. He wanted to bury his cock inside your sweet, ripe cunt, to know its curves and contours before any other man would. When he left you for home each night, Anthony’s dreams were filled with filling you, his bedclothes soiled every morning with sweat and cum from restless dreams of claiming your virgin cunt as his own. Each night he guided your hand and watched you come, he came with you, his body hovering over yours on the bed, his erection pressed against the mattress between your parted legs, grinding uselessly against it.

Anthony wasn’t sure how much longer his performance of control could last. Eventually, he would break, and when he did, Anthony feared more than anything the risk of hurting you, both physically and worst of all, your reputation, especially the standard you held yourself to. Perhaps he was pushing you further than he ought? Should a young woman of high standing such as yourself really be the object of a man like Anthony’s affection? He sometimes worried his handling of you was little better than the treatment he’d showed the many whores he’d had. And yet…you were different. You were, to be fair, the complete opposite of a whore. You were brand new, or at least your sexuality was. There were so many things you had yet to experience, and Anthony wanted to be the man that introduced you to all of them…

Tonight, his kisses are different. There’s an aggression in him you aren’t accustomed to seeing, or feeling. His teeth bare over your shoulder, lightly scratching your skin just enough to make you flinch. Anthony pulls back immediately, lifting his face to meet your eyes, a breathless apology whispered from his lips against yours. You cup your hand to his cheek, smiling sweetly back at him in the darkness. “I am well, my Lord,” you assure him. “Please…do not stop.”

He nuzzles his forehead against your shoulder, soothing the place his teeth grazed. A sheen of sweat transfers from his skin to yours; Anthony’s body is awash in heat, his heart thudding against your chest as he lays overtop you. Your hips shift beneath Anthony’s, his erection prodding your inner thigh. You wonder again, as you do every night, what it is that he’s hiding down there, the thing he won’t let you see? He tells you you’re not ready for that yet, that he still has more to teach you before that particular lesson might be given. Your curiosity gets the better of you tonight, leading your hand to wander beneath the covers, daring to slip between your bodies and blindly grope for the rigid part of Anthony he judges you unready for…

He whips his head up to face you, bringing his hand around your jaw in a firm, yet tender grasp. “No,” he whispers in a stern tone, softening his disapproval with “not yet, my sweet one. Patience…”

Anthony takes your wrist in his much-larger hand and guides it away from the place it searches. He’s admittedly surprised by your boldness in making such a move, and a lesser gentleman would have seized upon such innocent curiosity and exploited it. But Anthony is determined to be a patient tutor, to the best of his ability. The impossible balance of self control and indulgence he’s enduring is all for your benefit, he tells himself. To rush you into sex too quickly would be crass and ugly, not becoming of a young woman such as yourself. Anthony has come to admire you even more than he desires you. And he never plays too roughly with the things he cherishes...

“When, my lord?” you ask, your eyes wide and expecting. “When will you allow me all of you?”

Anthony resists the urge to curse, but fuck does he want to. It’s as if you’re doing your damndest to ruin him and his feeble hold on honor all at once, securing his end with nothing more than a sweet plea and an innocent gaze.

He tenses his jaw, breathing deeply. “A woman…such as yourself-.” Anthony pauses. “-Is worth waiting for…to be tenderly guided, not selfishly taken.” He presses a gentle kiss to your lips; the rigid, hidden part of Anthony moves against your thigh. “Do you understand?”

You nod agreeably, softly replying “yes, my lord. I trust the you know what is best.”

Anthony’s lips turn up in a grin. “I do,” he affirms. “And whilst moving forward too quickly would be a mistake…” He shifts his body down the bed a bit, chin hovering above your stomach. “…I see no reason why tonight’s lesson should be merely one of repetition...”

Anthony takes your hips in his hands, clutching the soft skin in his calloused grip. You draw in a sharp breath, unaccustomed to being touched in such a way and by hands as rough as Lord Bridgerton’s. Anthony’s tongue glides warm and wet down the length of your torso, his lips pausing at the coarse tuft of hair framing your sex. He rests his nose against the curly bed, inhaling the scent of arousal that clings to your quivering thighs. Anthony kisses your clit with the slightest pressure; your hips buck abruptly in response. “My lord…” you squeak. “It…it hurts.” While it isn’t a question, Anthony knows you’re likely overwhelmed. You’ve never been stimulated sexually like this before, and it must be very confusing. “Do not fret, dear one,” Anthony murmurs softly, his warm breath dusting your pubic hair. “The pain will go away, as it always does. Only this time, allow me to relieve the aching for you…”

Anthony holds your eyes as he extends his tongue to tap your clit. Your hips shiver again, held down and spread open by his strong grasp. Anthony flattens his tongue against your clit, allowing you to adjust to the new intensity the gesture creates. His cock throbs against the mattress, precum leaking into the fabric of his trousers as his very first taste of your cunt sinks over his tastebuds. Your hands are on Anthony’s shoulders, gripping his shirt in your fists, your knees framing his body. Holding you down more firmly, Anthony lowers his head and begins to lick you in wide, slow strokes. He drags his tongue across your lips and up over your engorged clit, feeling it throb at his touch. You’ve released Anthony’s shirt, now clutching your pillow to your face to keep quiet the sounds you’re making.

He parts your labia gently and carefully with his tongue, spreading you tenderly like a delicacy to be savored, not a meal to be rushed. You taste like bourbon and rain, Anthony thinks, like the licorice candy he’s so fond of stealing from his younger siblings. Your slick is copious and warm, like the morning air in the first days of Summer, like the mellow dew beaded on the Wisteria growing outside the Bridgerton home. Anthony dips his tongue between your folds, savoring your sweet flavor. It’s a flavor unknown to all but him, as even you have never tasted the product of your own arousal. The beauty of this gift is not lost on Anthony; he cherishes each coat of your slick, syrupy essence as he laps between your lips in thick, languid strokes.

Your words are lost in a mix of grunts and moans uttered into your pillow, every thought in your head dissolved and melted into Anthony’s mouth. You’re not even a person at this point, only a need, a creature like any other animal chasing its own based, primal yearning. Your body writhes indulgently under Anthony’s hold, hips grinding against his face, smearing him in the juices flooding your cunt. White hot pleasure seizes you, blanching your vision as everything in the world ceases to exist beyond Anthony’s mouth. He feels the vibrations of your climax through his tongue, feels your soul shattering to a million pieces and forming back together again in his hands.

Silky, pearlescent liquid drips between Anthony’s lips as he licks you through your climax. It feels like your body’s on fire from the inside out, a beautiful tangle of pleasure and pain that nips at your groin and twists your insides into delicious knots. Anthony’s hands are everywhere, rubbing your clit and squeezing the plumpest parts of your ass and hips, groping you in a possessive haste as if he’ll never have the opportunity to touch you again. He watches your lips flutter and pulse, slick gushing from between them as a second orgasm is spurred by the first. He’s never seen a woman come so hard before, with such innocent and unabashed rapture. It stirs something primal and almost sadistic within Anthony, a sense of pride in pleasuring you eclipsed by dominance. Now that he’s seen you lose control completely, without the reservation and shyness you’ve previously displayed, he craves more. If this is how you respond to his mouth between your legs, how much more powerfully will your body respond when his cock is buried inside you, making you come till you’re begging him to stop? And will he be able to stop? Will his sense of honor fail completely in that moment, devolving Anthony into little more than a selfish, barbaric creature intent on pushing you beyond the point of ruin?

He looks up from between your legs, catching your eyes. Their lids are heavy, lashes wet with tears, eyes glassy with an expression that tells him your mind is as good as removed from this world. Anthony knows he could take you now, in the pliant, weakened state you’re in. And considering how deeply you want him to give you all of himself, Anthony knows he’d likely meet no objection from you. But when your head lands back on the pillow, your skin flush and wet with perspiration, he realizes that to take you any further would be too much. Too selfish, too cruel. Of course you want more of him. And of course Anthony wants to give it to you, but not like this. Not when you’ve just experienced orgasms so powerful, your body is depleted of all its strength. The gentleman in Anthony once again wins out, in spite of the tug in his groin, and in spite of his predilection to indulging his own selfish needs.

He lifts himself off the bed from between your legs, wiping his dripping chin on his sleeve. You lift your head from the pillow with considerable effort, wide eyes expectant, your arm extending for him. “You’re not leaving, my lord?”

It’s more of a demand than a question. But Anthony is in control here, he reminds himself. He closes a hand over his erection, rubbing away some of the tension through his trousers. “You must rest, (y/n),” he says, his voice thick, tongue heavy. “I will return.” Anthony crouches beside you on the bed, pulling his fingertip along your jawline, soothing away the tears growing cold on your cheek.

“Soon?” you ask. It sounds very much like you’re begging, but you couldn’t care less. You are begging, craving him. Craving more of Anthony’s mouth, his kisses, his tongue, and…the part of him he won’t yet share with you. The part he’s making you wait for, and in his wisdom, you know Anthony is honorable for making you wait. “Tomorrow night,” he assures you, a warm smile turning his wet lips upward. “Wait for me as usual, beside your window.” He exhales, the scent of your sex washing over the air between you. Anthony leans in and kisses you softly, a kiss you press into but he draws back, taking your hands in his and squeezing them gently. “Tomorrow,” Anthony reaffirms. He releases your hands and makes his way to the window, where you’ve seen him enter and depart several times over the past two weeks. “I think,” he adds, in a whisper. “That you did exceptionally well tonight, (y/n). You allowed yourself to surrender fully, completely to pleasure, without an ounce of hesitation or shame.” Your heart skips at Anthony’s praise, and the possibility it implies. He licks his lips, eyes fluttering closed…one final taste of you to last him till tomorrow. “With your explicit permission, (y/n),” Anthony says softly. “I would very much like to claim your purity tomorrow night…for my own.” You swallow, understanding Anthony’s meaning. He wants to give you all of him, and in doing so, take something very important from you: your virginity.

“You have my permission, my lord,” you reply, noting the way Anthony’s chest swells in a satisfied breath of finality, of agreement. Of accomplishment. Of claiming you. He nods a silent confirmation of understanding between you, and turns for the window to make his leave. You watch the curtains lolling inward on the breeze, inhaling the scent of hydrangeas drifting in…listening to Anthony’s footsteps fading as he departs, drifting gently into dreams… 🥀

[regencyrosalie]

anthony bridgerton who had a mountain of paperwork he had to do. comes back to your bedroom and makes sweet love to you, little whimpers falling from his lips as he rails you within an inch of your life. telling him to slow down because he’s gotten all erratic and desperate, and he groans as he listens.

[regencyrosalie]

modern!anthony bridgerton texts like hes 90 years old.

you forget to call his work phone to tell him that you arrived somewhere safe and he finds his iphone 6 in the back of his drawer and texts you like:

“Where are you? Please let me know. I love you very much. X.”

“i love you too! just got here, sorry i forgot to call :) what time are we having dinner tonight again???”

“Hello love. Dinner is at 8 o’clock. I will see you there. XX.”

like ???? ok thanks count dracula?? tf??

[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.”

[regencyrosalie]

Could you write some Anthony bridgerton x wife reader angst with a happy ending

i love a happy ending. thank u for the req! here’s husband!anthony and his four braincells fighting for his life

To say Anthony has been stressed would be an understatement. The sheer amount of paperwork he’s had to do within the past week would put any regular man into an early grave. Not to mention that Hyacinth has attracted enough suitors since her debut to keep him busy and on edge every time there’s calling hours.

His wife has been trying her best to help, even organizing his papers when he’s busy, to which he would thank her profusely. She’s also been busy with the social season, arranging dinners and parties and visits to the modiste.

They never fight. (At least not since they got engaged). Which was why Anthony was so out of his element when he accidentally snapped at her one evening.

“Dear, would you like me to bring you a cup-“ she opened the door to the study, clad in her night-things.

“Could you spare me your rambling for once in your life?” he chastised, trying to add costs on paper with his exhausted mind.

She just stared at him for a moment, and he tensed, before backpedaling.

“Darling, I did not-“

But she had already left, and shut the door behind her, teary eyed and angry. He had never spoken to her in such a way, especially when all she was trying to do was assist him and bring him tea.

Anthony followed her out instantly, “My love,” he called desperately, but the hallway was empty, and she was nowhere to be seen. He raced down the corridor to their bedchamber, but it was empty. It did not even register until then that she may be in her own bedchamber.

And that she was, she was sat on her bed, weeping silently. She secretly prayed that he would find her, and muster up a tolerable apology because she could not bear to sleep without him. The sheets she was perched on had very likely not been changed since before she arrived at Bridgerton house, as she never spent more than five minutes in her own room each week. Much to her dismay, and the dismay of her pride, she was spiraling at his words. For how long had he believed her to be rambling? Was her presence so bothersome?

There was a knock on the door, like an answer from the divine.

“My love, are you there?” Anthony’s voice cut through the mahogany door.

“No,” she called back, trying to stop her voice from shaking. She wanted him to know she was there, but also to prove a point. Mostly to watch him suffer.

There was a sigh of relief as he found her, and he tried the door handle, to no avail.

“Please, darling. I am dreadfully sorry. I did not mean it. I was foolish. Please do not shut me out,” he pleaded from the other side of the door.

She did not make any reply, but she stood from the bed, crossing her arms over her chest, as if she knew she would be opening the door soon.

“My love,” he called, trying the door again “please. I love you. I cannot go through the night without you, you know I cannot. I will beg, if that is what you wish. I cannot be parted from you.”

She debated for a moment, and stayed silent, pacing around the room.

“What are you doing?” he practically whined through the door.

“Sparing you.”

He groaned. “No, love, please. That is the last thing I want. I did not mean it. You must know I did not. I have just been so busy, it has taken a toll on me. I did not mean to say such things to you, dearest. You know I do not feel so.”

That soothed her slightly, and she stopped in front of the door.

He heard her get closer, and he continued his begging. “Please, my love. I do not wish for you to spare me from anything except your contempt. I relish in your conversation, I crave it. Do not do this to me. I cannot bear it. I need you desperately. You know I do. I adore you. I adore everything you do, everything you are. I love you so dearly I feel as if it may kill me at times. And it very well might if you do not open this door.”

A smile tugged at her lips as he pleaded with her, and she wiped her eyes before unlocking the door and pulling it open.

Anthony looked a mess, his cravat was half-tied, his hair was disheveled, as he had probably been running his hands through it incessantly, and his eyes were glassy and pleading.

She almost giggled.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he said incredulously, with a hint of a smile.

“Perhaps a bit,” she replied, letting him pull her into his arms.

“You evil woman,” he chuckled softly, before pulling back to look at her face, frowning at her puffy eyes, “I am so sorry. Words cannot express my regret. I did not mean to cause you pain. I was foolish.”

“Yes, you were. But I forgive you,” she replied.

“Thank you, my love. I do not deserve your kindness.”

She kissed his cheek. “You do not need to earn my kindness. I know it has been tiring, with all of the work. But it is not my fault.��

“I know it is not. Of course, it is not. You give me nothing but strength. I adore you. I love you.” he murmured into her hair.

“I love you,” she replied softly, with a hint of amusement.

“Let me show you,” he mumbled, lifting her off the ground, “let me show you how much.”

She giggled.

“Anthony Bridgerton you are insatiable.”

[regencyrosalie]

my asks are open! feel free to send in requests! can be sfw or nsfw!

[regencyrosalie]

Hey there! <3 I really loved the way you write about modern! Anthony and I was wondering on maybe doing something with Benedict?

I was thinking always a modern one, either a xreader or maybe dating! headcanons!

in that case, thanks in anticipation and have a good day/night!!🩷🌸

hi hon ! thank you so much for sending an ask ! im going to structure this like i did for my anthony hc’s, i hope thats okay! im working on a fic rn that’ll be out hopefully soon!

biblically accurate modern!benedict hcs

- benedict WILL draw you

- he will draw quick little silly sketches of you in funny outfits and hats with exaggerated eyes and show them to you while giggling relentlessly

- but he also has an entire sketchbook filled with accurate and detailed drawings/paintings of you. he gets bashful every time you find a new one.

- may or may not have a caffeine addiction

- when you move in with him he moves his little art corner to a different room so you can still sleep while he works

- will get frustrated and come back into the bedroom and watch you sleep until he gets motivated/inspired again

- he loves dogs, specifically small dogs. chihuahuas are probably his favorite but he wont tell anyone.

- his sleep schedule is HORRIBLE, but it evens out when you live together because he wants to fall asleep with you.

- speaking of, i feel like Benedict is a human heater

- which is amazing during the winter

- but when it’s hot it is actually torture because hes trying to fall asleep practically on top of you.

- and youre like PLEASE get the FHUCK off of me and then he pouts and huffs until you make it work or he falls asleep

- benedict is close with every one of his siblings. but especially anthony and eloise.

- has funny uncle vibes

- especially with the younger siblings. he will sneak them candy and also probably money.

- anthony and violet have yet to find out

- i think he probably likes savory foods more than sweets, but will eat anything you make him.

- i feel like hes fully clothed about 50% of the time. the man despises pants i can just feel it in my bones.

- favorite color is red. he likes the versatility.

- cannot sing. but will sing. and will sing loudly. every shower is a concert.

- probably the closest with his mother

- love language is quality time

- this means picnic dates, movie dates, target run dates, going to the grocery store dates

- will make you handwritten cards and paintings for holidays, and puts sticky notes with sappy notes and bad pickup lines on everything you own.

- other than visual art, i think he has a few other hobbies. he likes movies, in fact, he pretty much likes every movie he watches. cant get into shows though, his attention span is not long enough. he also likes puzzles, and will frame them and keep them hoarded in his closet.

- i think a part of him is still grieving his father. violet was in constant agony after he died, and anthony was busy inheriting everything and dealing with the trauma of witnessing it: so benedict was left to pick up the pieces with the rest of the siblings. ie. explain what happened to the younger ones, try to cheer them up, etc.

- for that reason, i don’t think he ever really processed it completely, and he gets weirdly quiet when he thinks about it too long.

- cant be in anthony’s office for more than an hour at a time, because it used to be edmunds, and all he can think of is how he would pester his father all day while he worked.

[regencyrosalie]

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. ♥️

[regencyrosalie]

biblically accurate modern!husband!anthony hc’s 🤍

first post here ! <3 i hope u love it <3

- anthony “i love my wife” bridgerton trying to go about his daily life when he quite literally wants to stay in bed all day with you.

- anthony is THE lightest sleeper on earth. if you get up at night, you’ll come back to the bedroom and hes just sitting up in bed half asleep like 🧍🏻‍♂️

- speaking of, if you even want to get up, you’ll have to wriggle out of his death grip. he will hold onto you throughout the entire night, and if it’s hot, he’ll make sure to have a hand sprawled across the bed onto you.

- sometimes you have to remind him to back off a little because he genuinely acts like you might die every time you leave the house

- insists you call/text him (preferably call) when you arrive at at wherever you’re going so he know you didn’t get hit by a car or something on the way there

- speaking of, Anthony texts like he he does not understand what a phone is.

- quite literally really only uses his dad’s old desk phone and emails. he owns an iphone 7 that is usually sitting in the back of his bedside drawer for days at a time.

- he loves all of his siblings equally, but Hyacinth has him wrapped around her finger at all times.

- will do pretty much anything for his wife, but is much more firm with his siblings.

- which is why every time they need something and you aren’t around, Hyacinth is sent to give him her best puppy eyes. he folds almost instantly every time without fail.

- genuinely does not really have many “friends” that aren’t also family. he used to in college, but he just doesn’t find it necessary anymore, and also doesn’t have the time.

- he has reading glasses. enough said.

- scared of bugs.

- talks about pretty much everything with Benedict, who he’s probably closest with in his family besides his mother.

- used to play with/take care of Hyacinth as a baby when Violet was grieving.

- sometimes struggles to pronounce big words when he’s arguing and it pisses him off so much he has to leave the room.

- likely has most of his siblings set up with a therapist, but doesn’t get one for himself until his wife tells him to.

- all of his spaces are organized meticulously, usually by color or number order.

- will check to make sure every door to the house is locked at least three times before going to bed.

- which can take up to an hour when staying at Aubrey Hall.

- we all see how he softened in season 3. his siblings tease him about it sometimes, but they’re all delighted. and he couldn’t care less. he thinks he is the luckiest man on earth and rolls his eyes every time he thinks of how angsty he was.

- if you have children, he’s the most loving father in the world. will wear a tutu if the need arises.

- he can’t have you in his office for more than thirty minutes or he gets distracted.

- he didn’t cry for years after his dad died, and now he cries about once a month.

- most animals love him for some reason.

- has nightmares relatively frequently after edmund dies, but they die down as he gets older.

- favorite color is navy blue. changes to light blue once he’s married.

- good with babies and toddlers from when hyacinth was little.

- you make him take breaks while he works everyday, and they become his favorite parts of the day. you bring him tea and sit in his lap and pet his hair, sometimes he falls asleep. he tells you to wake him up but you never do.

- still uses an alarm clock.

- refuses to leave bed until ten am every day.

- smells like sandalwood and cinnamon.

- idk why but i feel like he fucking LOVES sudoku puzzles.

- but dont ever ask him to do a real puzzle thats more than 50 pieces or he may start crying.

- type of mf to read actual newspapers.

- no one in the family has serious allergies, but he still keeps an epi pen everywhere just in case.