Bridgerton Imagines

A Truth Universally Acknowledged // A.B.

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: none - fluff, books, marriage, happy relationships, cute.

Word Count: 1.6k

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The house is silent as Anthony strides through the already open door. He nods his greeting to the Butler, Wilkins, before letting the weariness that had haunted him all day settle over his bones.

"Wilkins?" Anthony asks.

"Lady Bridgerton is in the Green-and-Gold, sir."

Anthony smiles at the Butler. "You really do know everything."

Wilkins smiles; nods his head. "It is my job, sir. Lady Bridgerton has already told me that you will take your final meal of the day in there, too."

Anthony takes the stairs two at a time; refusing to accept his laboured breathing by the time he reaches the top. He was not an old man yet; he was still a very active man.

Turning left, he wanders blindly to the Green-and-Gold room named for the colour scheme of the walls and the furniture. His late grandmother had decorated the room; so fondly remembered by her ancestors that each refused to change a thing in the room save for any upholstering that needed to be done occasionally.

He finds you sitting on the left hand side of the room; the comfier side as argued by everyone who visits the room. Your legs are curled underneath you as your eyes pour over the page of an open book in your lap. From here, Anthony cannot possibly hazard a guess as to what you might be reading, but he feels a twinge of jealousy at the attention being paid to the book and not to him.

Well, love makes fools of us all, Anthony thinks to himself. "Darling," Anthony greets in one single breath, as if the sight of you makes it all the easier for him to breathe.

"Darling," You smile, standing from your seat, coming to greet the man you love with every fibre of your being. "How was your day?"

Anthony groans as he removes his jacket before tugging at the knot of his cravat. "Long," He complains, struggling with the neckpiece. You smile at your husband, batting his hands away from his neck so you can take over. You feel the heat of his gaze as your hands work to do undo the knot he had tightened with a single tug; as the fabric unravels under your nimble fingers your husband reaches out to squeeze your waist.

"Thank you," He whispers, voice full with an emotion you can't quite decipher. Love? Weariness? A combination of both? Anthony looked ragged as you run your eyes over his face.

"I'm sorry that your day has been taxing, my love."

"It's all the better now that I'm here with you."

"Flatterer," You tease with no real heat behind your words. Anthony beams at you; eyes crinkling in the corners from the force of it as his hands tighten on your waist and his head dips to capture your lips in the kiss he has been thinking about for the better part of his day.

Breaking away, Anthony plants one, two, three kisses to your lips in quick, chaste succession leaving you breathless and highly amused. "How was your day?" He asks, curious as ever to find out what his wife does when he isn't at home to distract you.

"Dull," You answer plainly, enjoying the feel of Anthony's strong arms around you.

"Dull?"

You purse your lips, thinking over your plans for the day so far. "I suppose dull doesn't work. It hasn't been dull at all."

"Oh?"

"I'm only saying it because I missed you."

"I missed you too," He murmurs, kissing you once more. "What are you reading?" Anthony asks when he pulls away, spying the book laid delicately on the couch.