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frost-queen · 4 months

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Outmatched //Part 10 (Reader!Holmes x Anthony Bridgerton)

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Summary: Schemes come to plan in order to force Anthony and you together. Can a heart to heart change matters? Certainly now your aunt has come into the picture, wanting to have her demands over you. [ Final chapter ] Read part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9

Sherlock was writing vigorously. The feather in his hand moving swiftly as he scribbled it around. Dipping as quick as he could in the ink seemingly not wanting to forget a word. It had been annoying you for the past couple of days. It made you sigh loud to get his attention. Nothing occurred as Sherlock was lost in his own mind. Having no ears for his surroundings. You sighed again sitting sloppy in the armchair.

Irritated by the scratching of the feather over paper, you got up. – “Whoever are you corresponding with so eagerly?” – You called out making your way over to him. You came to the front of the desk, lowering yourself on your knees, chin up on the level of the desk. Finally Sherlock noticed you with a brief glance. – “A lady perhaps?” – you responded shockingly.

“Someone you met at the ball? Are you in love Sherlock?” – you questioned with a gleam in your eyes. – “Don’t be absurd.” – Sherlock answered dipping the feather in the ink. – “A sister can dream.” – you told him slightly bummed. Sherlock looked up from his paper. – “So can a brother.” – he simply said. It made you roll your eyes at him.

“Should you not be preparing yourself?” – Sherlock spoke barely looking up as he finished the letter with his name. – “Prepare for what?” – you responded confused. Sherlock placed the feather down, giving you his full attention. – “The park.” – he informed you.

You got up half confused. Slightly narrowing your eyes at him. – “Where are you going with this?” – you wanted to know. Sherlock started folding letter. – “Nowhere.” – he let on, burning some candlewax to seal the note. You watched him closely. Trying to decipher a hint on his face.

Something that would give himself away. Nothing. Your brother was good in hiding his emotions. Frustrated you groaned and took a turn towards the hallway. You went up the stairs to your bedroom to prepare. Moments later you were meeting up with your brother Sherlock outside of the house.

You took his arm letting him escort you to the park. The weather was quite nice. A soft breeze bristling through the trees. The sun high as it left a warmth on your skin. – “Have you heard anything from Lord Hill?” – you asked when Sherlock nodded at a passing gentleman. – “No.” – he responded placing his hand on yours over his arm. He came to a brief pause. – “Why? Is it something you anticipate?” – he questioned with a raised eyebrow. – “No.” – you answered tugging at his arm to walk again. – “I was simply curious.” – you mumbled turning your head away from him.

To be fair you were a bit curious off his reaction. You did leave him standing alone at the ball. Rejecting him for the entire ton to see. You hoped he didn’t resent you for it. Or perhaps you hoped he might forgive you. Perhaps he was your only chance of getting out of your aunt’s clutches. The thought alone frightened you. Knowing that your aunt would start meddling herself into your life. Marrying you off to anyone suitable enough in her eyes. Take you away from your family for proper etiquettes. Wanting you to be as stiff and stuffy as all the other ladies throwing themselves at any man possible simply because they can’t get any better.

That was not what you wanted. Far from. You wanted to marry for love if it allow itself to you. At this point you didn’t think you were worthy of love anymore. Sherlock must have noticed the self-pity in your eyes as he gave you a nudge with his elbow. Making you look up to his warming smile. It made you smile faintly back, letting your head rest against his shoulder. Sherlock took a deep breath wishing love upon you so hard. If anyone deserved it, it was you.

You lifted your head back up upon arriving at the park. – “Now what are we here for?” – you questioned. Sherlock just smiled. – “A nice walk.” – he responded not pleasing you with his answer. Now it truly felt like he was hiding something from you. – “Sherlock Holmes now I know you are hiding things from me!” – you outed with a stern expression. Sherlock chuckled at your attempt of a motherly scowl. – “I wouldn’t dream of it sister.”

You puffed loud turning your head away. Sherlock led you down the pathway, greeting some people sitting on the benches with a nod. Up ahead you saw a carriage stand in the middle of the road. Sherlock breathed in as his chest rose. He picked up his pace, dragging you along. You tagged along confused as he walked to the side of the carriage. – “Are…are we getting in?” – you asked confused. Sherlock opened the carriage door pushing you inside. At the same time the door on the other side opened as well.

“You are!” – Sherlock spoke as you felt another body bump against yours. Turning your head your eyes widened at the sight of Lord Bridgerton. His eyes equally shocked. You and Anthony each grabbed for the door on your side. Sherlock shut the door firmly almost in your face. – “Sherlock!” – you called out frustrated. – “Mother!” – Anthony shouted at the same time. You turned your head seeing Miss Bridgerton at his side, keeping the door shut just like your brother did.

“Start the carriage!” – Violet called out with a smile. – “Stop the carriage!” – you screamed out wanting to get off. – “Whatever you do, do not stop this carriage till you reach your destination!” – Sherlock made clear to the driver, flipping him a few coins. The driver tipped his hat to Sherlock, signalling the horses to ride off. Anthony and you fell back against the seats as you rode off. With a lot of effort you pulled yourself forwards as the carriage was speeding. Not just a stroll around the park, but almost galloping.

You grabbed for the handle pushing it open as the door swung open. Your body nearly falling over when you stared down at the quick passing gravely road. A pair of hands on your waist. – “Are you insane!?” – Anthony shouted pulling you back inside the carriage. You automatically closed the door once more as your hand was still on the handle. Panting loud you needed a second. – “Did you truly plan on jumping out of a riding carriage just to get away from me?” – Anthony questioned rudely. – “The offer was tempting.” – you responded making him puff loud.

Anthony and you both turned away from each other looking outside of the carriage. It toggled and bumped around as you could barely sit still. – “I cannot believe Sherlock would trick me this much.” – you mumbled under your breath. – “Or mama.” – Anthony breathed out. His head turned slightly to you as you intended the same. Catching each other’s gaze. It locked in tight, unable to look away. In this moment your breathing became heavier. The yearning for him rising up in tide-waves. Each wave more intense than the one before.

Blinking softly it occurred to you what you were doing. How madly in love your eyes must have looked. Anthony reacted the same way pulling away at the same time as you. Both looking away. Taking a deep breath you let yourself slouch back against the seat. – “What is it?” – Anthony asked with care in his voice. No hint of mockery in his tone. You fidgeted with your fingers on your lap. – “The season will come closer to an end than we expect.” – you told him. – “It won’t be long anymore till I have to say goodbye to it all.”

Anthony was slightly confused with shock. He got up coming to sit in front of you. – “What are you referring to?” – he asked. – “Are… are you…” – he spoke barely able to say it out loud. Something inside of him hoping it wouldn’t be the case. – “No.” – you answered with a shake of your head. Anthony exhaled relieved barely seeable to you. – “I am not engaged my lord or will ever be…” – you went on with a saddened expression. Anthony’s expression full of pity as you reminded him of himself in this moment.

You let your eyes fall onto him. – “Perhaps I have taken all the chances at love that I deserve?” – you told him letting your gaze fall briefly onto his lips. Taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from them. – “It doesn’t matter truly for I won’t be able to escape my aunt’s restrictions.” – you continued as Anthony gaped at you. – “Soon you won’t have any trouble of me anymore, my lord.” – you finished.

“By the end of the season I’ll leave to join my aunt where she will groom me to find a match to her liking. It is what has been agreed between my father and her long ago.” – you explained. Anthony took a deep breath with concern. The carriage came to a stop. The glance in his eyes making you scrunch your eyebrows.

The footman opened the door startling you. The moment interrupted as you got out. There you saw your brother waiting for you. You glared at him, storming over to him. Anthony got out numbly. Almost missing his step and stumbling over his own feet. – “Anthony?” – Violet said seeing the sadness in his eyes. – “Sister?” – Sherlock spoke. – “Don’t!” – you made clear wiping your cheek aggressively. He turned to look confused at Violet. It sure must’ve worked right? They had planned it so thoroughly. Violet smiled faintly back at him, moving Anthony closer to her.

With her arm over his shoulder, Violet and Anthony parted ways from Sherlock and you. Sherlock turned round jogging up to you as you had walked off. He didn’t dare to ask how it went upon seeing your distressed reaction. Perhaps it was harder than he expected. To be fair he was very known with the stubbornness of the Holmes’s. The two of you arrived at the estate again. The doorman opening the door to you. – “Do not trick me again!” – was the only thing you said with a loud tone. Sherlock swallowed feeling a bit shameful.

You wanted to storm off to your room when Mycroft appeared from out of the Parlor, clearing his throat nervously. Sherlock stretched his hand out, tapping you gently against the elbow to draw your attention. Mycroft delicately closed the door behind him. – “We… we have a situation.” – he said before you heard the familiar voice of your aunt. Your eyes widened looking frightened at Sherlock. – “Have they arrived?” – you heard her shrill voice come from the Parlor.

The door opened as it bumped against Mycroft’s back making him stumble forwards. Your aunt smiled as wrinkles showed around her eyes and mouth. With open arms she made her way over to you. Sherlock stepping aside to leave room for your aunt to give you an uncomfortable hug. – “Look at you!” – she said unsure to you if it was an insult or not. She tilted your chin up, turning it to the side to have a good look of you. – “I should’ve come sooner.” – she mumbled.

“But!” – she clasped her hands together in delight. – “Tell me Y/n have you found a match yet? Has there been a proposal? Should I expect wedding bells?” – she asked vigorously. – “There has not been.” – you told her honestly. – “Why Y/n the end of the season is nearing. Have you been absent from any balls?” – She turned rudely to your brothers. – “Have there been no gentleman’s offerings? Visits? Interests?” – she wanted to know.

“There…” – Mycroft started. – “There is a gentleman interested… is it not Sherlock?” – Mycroft narrowed his eyes at Sherlock hoping his little scheme of today would be fruitful. Sherlock cleared his throat. – “In the process.” – he answered nervously. He could see Mycroft sigh disappointed and nervous. – “In the process? Sherlock we cannot wait for the process! Y/n must be married off this season to give this family some stability.” – she responded with diplomacy. – “We understand aunt but…” – Mycroft began as he got cut off by her. – “I don’t think you understand well enough!” – she responded bitsy.

“Y/n is running out of time! You shouldn’t have let it come this far. I will not have my niece turn into a hag.” – she finished off. – “Aunt!” – Sherlock called out with a hateful look in his eyes. – “Do not disrespect her!” – he made clear. She simply huffed. She spun back around to you holding her fingers sternly up to you. – “By the end of the season you will come with me and marry the man I offer you!” – she made clear. – “No!” – Mycroft said coming to stand in between. – “Stand aside boy!” – she answered with a hard stare. – “You had your task and failed miserably.” –

Sherlock came joining his brother’s side, blocking you out of her sight. – “You cannot force her to marry out of diplomacy.” – Sherlock outed. – “Oh but I can.” – she answered. You took a deep breath stepping from behind your brothers. They both shook their head knowing you were about to give in. You moved in front of them, curtsying at your aunt. Your aunt smiled proudly. She took you by the wrist. – “Let us have some tea.” – you got pulled back into the Parlor. The second the door shut grabbed your brother Mycroft for Sherlock’s shirt. – “You told me it would work!” – he called out, shaking him around.

“It should’ve!” – Sherlock answered loudly, pushing his hands off. – “I cannot hold her off any longer Sherlock! Our sister is going to be taken away from us in a matter I do not agree upon.” – Mycroft said. Oh how much his character had grown over the months. From a posh man wanting to have you out of his hands to a caring man fighting for his family. – “I will fix it!” – Sherlock replied. – “How? At this rate I don’t see anything happening in the upcoming five years.” – he sighed out letting himself fall exhaustedly against the wall. – “I will figure it out.” – Sherlock said.

The ball was not to your liking. It felt like a goodbye to everything. It felt like the last thing keeping you close to your roots here in London. No intrigued you to join. Standing at the side you watched how everyone socialised. Taking a deep breath you felt out of place. Having no desire or interest in mingling among the people. Perhaps you had already given up. Given up on the last few chances of finding a match. Of finding someone equally to you. Someone you could see yourself love.

Glancing to your right you saw your brothers near. They too had a saddened expression. The ball to no interest to them. It pained you to see them knowing of the trouble they went through. Knowing you had a hand to play in this. Perhaps you have been too stubborn. Too much against it and not willingly. Perhaps… perhaps…Looking back at the dancers you saw Colin Bridgerton amongst them. Colin… Bridgerton.

Your mind went instantly to Anthony. Feeling your chest warm up at the simple thought of him. Not so long ago you saw a future with him. Despite the bickering and competitive you still admired him underneath. Secretly loved how he would provoke you. Send you off into frustration and to your boiling point. Oh how much you loved to get so worked up over him.

Yet it wasn’t meant to be. Your stubbornness had won in flying colours. In need of fresh air you got in motion. Your brother Sherlock wanted to go after you, but Mycroft held him back. Shaking his head in speech of letting you have your space. You made your way through the crowd towards the gardens. Brushing past people to reach the other side. Walking out, you were greeted by a soft breeze. The night sky bright. You made your way over to some bush roses.

Looking up to the sky, you were in deep thought. Anthony had found a way outside. Having almost entirely searched the estate in search. Looking thoroughly and with a destined purpose. Every inch around he wanted to have seen. He neared to the rose bushes that were overgrown like a small forest around the estate.

He turned around, leaning back with furrowed brows. There between the rose bushes he saw his purpose. With determination and without a second thought he made his way over. Finally he had a clear view. A clear view of you. You glanced to the side, having spotted a sudden appearance in the corner of your vision.

Anthony neared looking breathlessly at you. – “Do you still plan on to leave with your aunt?” – he questioned with a mournful expression. – “It is what is intended… for me.” – you responded. – “I am apparently made to save my family from ruin.” – you told him. – “You love your family dearly.” – he spoke coming more over to you. You were looking down fumbling a bit with your dress. – “As much as you love yours.” – you told him without a glance. With a deep breath you finally dared yourself to look up.

Struck instantly by his overwhelming gaze. The brightness in his eyes that could light a fire. – “I was fearful of losing you.” – he confessed with a hard swallow. Admitting his feelings so openly to you felt vulnerable. – “That is why I became… after your accident… I couldn’t…” – he slightly shook his head vowing his words to you. You took a deep breath when Anthony neared more. – “I love you.” – he outed.

“I have loved you from the moment you insulted me.” – taking one more step closer to you. – “I have loved you at every dance, on every walk. Every time we have been together and every time we have been apart. You do not have to accept it or even embrace it but you must know it, in your heart.” – Anthony expressed deeply. He took your hand making you look down at the gesture.

“You must feel it, because I do.” – he pressed his hand onto his chest, staring deeply at you. – “I love you.” – he repeated with all his heart. You scrunched your eyebrow softly at him. – “I don’t not know what to say.” – you told him. – “You don’t have to say anything.” – he answered letting his thumb brush against your hand he was still holding. – “I do not think there is anything else to say… other than I love you too.” – you answered heartily. Anthony exhaled stunned. – “You…” – he breathed out. You lowered your head smiling foolishly at yourself. He looked down taking your other hand in his too.

“I know I am imperfect but I will humble myself before you, because I cannot imagine my life without you and that is why I wish to marry you.” – he spoke with a smile. You returned his smile with one of your own. – “You do know there will not be a day that you shall not vex me.” – you told him teasingly. Anthony let go of your hand allowing his hand to go around your waist to your lower back. – “Is that a promise Y/n Holmes?” – he responded smug. You moved your head closer to his, drawn to him. – “It is a promise.” – you breathed out wanting his lips on yours.

Anthony inhaled deep near your lips, anticipating the moment your lips would touch. – “You are not going anywhere Y/n.” – he whispered to you teasing your lips with the presence of his. You vigorously shook your head moving your hands around his neck. – “I shall not.” – you replied before you forced your lips onto his. An explosion of feelings bursting inside of you. Lips kissing each other with the upmost passion and longing.

Your body being pressed against his, wanting you as deeply as he could. No more you needed to feel saddened. No more you needed to leave. No more you were unloved having finally found your match.

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Read more of my fic’s on my Masterlists!

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weirdmorefics · 2 years

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Hi, I just love your male reader bridgerton! Can I request male reader bridgerton get stung by a bee and have a light allergic reaction? I imagine him being around Colin’s age, and all the family (mostly Anthony) panics.

Love from Sweden❤️

A/N- You’re from Sweden that’s so far from me!! Thank you for reading it feels crazy that people are reading from so far away! I also am very experienced in allergic reactions and own several epi-pens so I think this will be accurate lol.

Warnings- Rashes

Pronouns- He/Him

Word Count- 434

Summary- Anthony and you get into a big fight in the garden when a bee appears.

I Am Not A Baby

“OH MY GOODNESS ANTHONY I AM NOT A CHILD!” I scream storming away from him.

“You can’t just leave the family to go off on some adventure to become an author when you do not even know if you will succeed.” Anthony sighed.

I whip my head back, "But Colin can go off gallivanting on some finding yourself mission because some girl tried to trap him in a marriage.”

“You know your different Y/N” Anthony tries to say calmly.

“And may I ask how I am different,” I say mocking him but he suddenly goes silent.

“What is it cat got your tongue?” I say in a sing-songy voice.

“Y/N do not move,” He says sternly.

I roll my eyes and wave my hands “What are you going to do control me with your words so I can’t lea-”

I was quickly cut off by a burning feeling in my arm and my whole body felt very hot.

“Anthony I- I don’t f-feel that good. I’m going t-to sit.” I gasp out.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Anthony rushes to catch me before I fall. “You can not die! You just can’t!” He says dragging me into the house.

“That’s because you know I’m Mom’s favorite son.” I smile weakly.

“For God’s sake shut up and save your energy,” He growls out.

Mother runs towards us followed by the rest of the family at the sight of me being dragged in. Mother cradles my flushed face as tears pool in her eyes.

“Would you all stop being so emotional? I can stand I just have a rash and felt a little faint at first. You all are so dramatic.” I say pulling myself out of Anthony’s grasp.

Colin steps on my foot “Stop being so rude you scared us all today.”

I rub my arm sheepishly “ I know I am sorry it’s just you all treat me like I am just some baby when I am just a year younger than Colin”

Mother sighs “ I am so sorry son you just look so much like your father it’s like your his twin. I just don’t want to lose you like him.”

I hug her “I love you too Mama but you have to let me grow up someday.”

“ I will! You scared me very bad today but it made me realize I should not stop you from living due to my fear. I want you to go on your writing adventure but first let’s get some cold compresses on your rash.” Mama smiled with tears still in her eyes.

“Thank you Mama.”

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natti-ice · 1 month

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18+ mdni

Me: “fuck, I need his cock”

Him: *is literally just words on tumblr*

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dailybridgerton · 17 days

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Season 1 // Season 2 // Season 3

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greengableslover · 1 month

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BRIDGERTON (2020 - ) | s02 ep08 'THE VISCOUNT WHO LOVE ME' / s03 SNEAK PEEK (insp.)

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itshelia · 4 months

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Is it just me or everyone imagine their fav characters that they are obsessing over in real life???

Like I'll be at work and then I imagine that bitch sitting next to me, talking to me and admiring me while I FUCKING KNOW THAT I HAVENT KISSED A MALE SPECIES IN MY ENTIRE LIFE

I don't know if that's sign of a fucking mental problem or what but I swear if I'm even Slightly upset or tired of my life i WILL open tumblr and start imagining them or talking to them (aka my wall. It be sitting there like the fuck gurl im not your man)

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cinnamoodles · 1 month

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smut is great but do you know what’s better? heart wrenching, soul twisting angst that makes you want to cry (take my money)

#spencer reid x reader #jason todd x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #kaz brekker x reader #kageyama x reader #cedric diggory x reader #daryl dixon x reader #dick grayson x reader #din djarin x reader #steve harrington x reader #azriel x reader #john price x reader #jake seresin x reader #charles leclerc x reader #chris evans x reader #homelander x reader

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sharpesjoy · 4 months

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BRIDGERTON | SEASON 3

First look at Simone Ashley as Kathani Sharma and Jonathan Bailey as Anthony Bridgerton

#*mine #bridgerton #bridgertonedit #kathony #kanthony #kanthonyedit #kathonyedit #dailybridgerton #anthony bridgerton #kathani sharma #kate sharma #anthony x kate #bridgerton season 3 #jonathan bailey #simone ashley #DYING HERE #merry christmas kathony nation #look at them

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dearabsolutelynoone · 1 month

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“…This Author refuses to believe that theirs is anything but a love match.” - LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 15 JUNE 1814

Julia Quinn, The Viscount Who Loved Me (Bridgertons, #2)

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ithebookhoarder · 6 months

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Truth or Dare (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

Summary: Married only a few months, you are very much one of the Bridgerton brood - something that often drives your poor husband mad, especially when you happen to be every bit as chaotic and unruly as his siblings... Also known as, you, Benedict and Eloise take a game of ‘truth or dare’ a bit too far.

A/N: What can I say? It’s well and truly fluff-tober over here on my blog 😅

Warnings: Alcohol, mild smut, swearing, Anthony losing his mind, typical Bridgerton sibling shenanigans

Masterlist

There weren’t many nights Anthony spent away from your side.

They were few and far between, but that didn’t lessen how irksome you found them when the odd occasion called for him to leave you over night. You didn’t know what it was exactly, but you never truly slept well without your husband there to hold you.

Of course, it had to be one of those nights that you truly found yourself in a spot of mischief. Though, in fairness, it had all started rather innocently.

Un-beknowst to you at the time, it was Benedict that had been first outside on the garden swing, sipping from a stolen bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered from the kitchens. He’d been sat there perhaps ten minutes by himself, staring at the stars and lamenting about some problem or other.

Then Eloise had come along.

As was her habit - you later discovered - she had been swift to follow her brother’s example, sneaking out of the house in her nightgown for a reprieve in the night air… and a cigarette or two. Apparently her second-eldest brother was something of a soft touch when it came to her, not that you could blame him for it. You doted on Eloise too.

Then, finally, completing the eclectic cast of characters, there had been you.

Now, in your defence, you hadn’t intended on going out into the garden that night, but had found no other alternative suitable given the blasted summer heat. It was worse tonight that it had been all week, and without Anthony in bed beside you, you saw little point in enduring with the effort of trying to get any rest.

So, you’d decided to make your way quietly through the house and sit outside a while, and pray for a breeze. You hadn’t, however, expected to find both Bridgerton siblings already sat there, having had a similar idea.

“My, what do we have here? Another night owl?”

It was Benedict who spoke first, smiling warmly at the sight of you appearing out of the darkness. He was quick to rise, offering you his swing as a perch to rest upon, beside Eloise.

You were about to protest that it wasn’t necessary and that you could find somewhere else to sit, but a warning glare from Eloise was enough to silence you.

She was all too eager to pat the seat next to her in invitation, looking remarkably pleased to have another addition to their little party.

“Come. Sit,” she ordered. “We were simply discussing how tedious Lady Tremaine’s luncheon will be tomorrow and how we could possibly avoid the whole thing. Now that you’re here, you can help us plot our escape. Benedict’s only suggestion thus far has been some kind of contagious summer cold.”

“I think I actually said that I would use such an excuse, sister,” Benedict corrected with a teasing grin. “Not that we would share it.”

“Traitor.”

“Hardly. It is every man - or woman - for themselves. Right, Y/N?”

“Alas, I think your mother would be rather suspicious at all three of us suddenly being absent,” you sighed by way of explanation as both their eyes turned to you. “Besides, I only came outside because of this heat, not to join some conspiracy.”

“Hardly,” Eloise chuckled. “We simply had the same idea, but I am rather glad you came to join us. Perhaps we should form some secret kind of club - Bridgertons against boredom?”

“And do what? Constantly find excuses not to attend social events we deem too tedious or odious to be dragged along to?”

“Sounds like a marvellous idea to me.”

“It would, sister dear,” Benedict teased. “You always have a talent for causing chaos and anarchy. You’d suit the cause perfectly, even if we both know our mother would never stand for it. She somehow sees through even our best efforts.”

“In which case, it’s time I take a leaf out of your book, Benedict. After all, you always say social events become far more bearable after a good drink or two,” Eloise smirked, gesturing towards the bottle of whiskey Benedict had been steadily nursing. “Perhaps I should follow my brothers example and learn to hold a drink, maybe then things will be more fun.”

“Oh no.” Benedict was quick to shut down that idea, holding the bottle possessively to his chest and shaking his head. “No. I am not allowing you to start drinking. Mother would have my head if she caught you, not to mention Anthony would have all ours heads on a platter in no time.”

The thought of it made you laugh. Your husband was hardly a tyrant, even if he’d been known to have a temper but he was easy enough to handle. A few soft words in his ear or a kiss on the cheek and he was putty in your hands, helplessly and completely in love with you. Just as you were in love with him.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of Anthony, Benedict?” you giggled, causing Eloise to join you. “I assure you, he’s more a kitten than a lion and he’d probably prefer you to allow Eloise to sample alcohol here, under your supervision, than when she inevitably decides to rebel and has her first drink later on, in the middle of some public ball…”

The warning was clear and you all knew very likely true. Still, Eloise was beaming in victory as Benedict cursed to himself, muttering about Bridgerton women and the likely death he’d receive should Anthony ever find out he had allowed Eloise to sample whiskey. “Just a few sips, El. I mean it.”

“Oh hush,” she snorted, taking the bottle before he could change his mind. She was quick to throw back her head and down a rather brave mouthful, causing you to laugh even harder as she scrunched her face up in disgust. “Oh! That is revolting.”

“I told you.”

“Now you, Y/N,” Eloise grinned, turning and offering the offending item towards you. “Go on. Join us trouble makers - I won’t say a word about it if you don’t.”

“Oh, for goodness sake… Give me that then,” you sighed, earning a cheer from them both, knowing it was better to simply surrender rather than try and fight their mischievous whims. It only increased as you took an ambitious swig from the bottle, wincing at the acrid burning sensation it left in your throat.

If only Anthony could have seen you. He’d have probably had some kind of seizure - especially as you took another quick swig before handing the bottle back.

“There. Your turn again, brother dearest.”

“My my. You really are quite surprising,” Benedict sniggered, before winking up at you in admiration. “Who knew it? You can hold your drink better than Colin. He seems cursed to choke any time he drinks anything stronger than a brandy.”

“Well, it is your sex that falsely deemed us the weaker,” Eloise quipped. “It’s not our fault you were ignorant.”

“I’d like to remind you I wasn’t part of that decision and you also looked ready to choke a moment ago, El.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re still one of the enemy,” she giggled, earning another raucous laugh from you. Oh, you loved her. If you’d ever been so blessed to have had a sister, you hoped she’d have been just like her. “Now, it is your turn again, brother.”

“Oh … joy.”

“Else we shall have to have some kind of forfeit.”

“A forfeit?” you scoffed, finding the idea absurd. “Like what?”

“How about… truth or dare?”

Benedict froze. “Oh no. Not again. Pall Mall is one thing but we swore we would never play that game in this family again-“

“But Benedict-“

“What’s truth or dare?”

Your innocent question ceased their bickering instantly. Their eyes widened as they turned to you, a knowing and nervous look passing between them. Somehow, you knew this evening was about to get wildly out of hand.

Sometime later, you’d been fully apprised of the rules of ‘truth or dare’. In fact, you’d been something of a natural at it, even if you knew the copious amounts of whiskey you’d all consumed was more than likely the responsible culprit. Else, you’d probably have known better and snuck back off inside before you could make a fool of yourself.

By the end of the night, Benedict had climbed a tree, confessed to being oddly scared of spiders, and been forced to sing the national anthem in French.

Eloise had also made an admirable effort, despite her obviously lower tolerance for drink. She still permitted Benedict to try and arrange her hair, before daring to steal a sock from Colin’s room whilst he’d slept. Then she’d loosened a leg on a dining chair. (Alas, none of you could remember which one but that somehow made it even funnier - even if it would not be come morning when you were forced to sit at the table for breakfast in some kind of roulette.)

You could only pray you didn’t choose said seat.

You could also only pray neither of your conspirators shared your contributions with your husband. You weren’t exactly sure how Anthony would feel at the fact you gone for a midnight paddle in the pond, nor that you’d mixed up the papers on his desk, all before finishing the night with a final dare that involved stealing several cakes from the kitchens… you still swore Mrs Reynolds would notice, come morning, that there were no longer twelve perfect cakes.

That, and Benedict had somehow knocked flour all over the counter, causing you all to erupt in drunken laughter as you’d bolted back outside.

Needless to say, you all looked a sorry sight as you lay in the grass together, staring at the approaching dawn. Had you not been so tired, or drunk, you may have suggested retiring back to your rooms before the house awoke shortly.

“Now that… was fun.”

“Fun? That was more than fun. I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

“Told you it was a good idea.”

You hummed in agreement with your sister in law.

“I can see why you all favoured this game so much,” you sniggered, winking at Eloise as she sat in the grass beside you. “I can also see why you all agreed to stop playing it… I don’t know what Anthony would say if he saw what we’d been up to.”

“Something sensible and disapproving most likely,” Benedict sniggered. “Our brother, and your husband, can be a right prig, no offence.”

“Oh hush. At least I didn’t let my sister dress me up in her petticoat when she was five.”

Benedict’s jaw dropped.

“Who told you about that?” he demanded indignantly.

“I have my sources.”

Benedict’s eyes narrowed as he turned his head to glare at his younger sister. “Well, you can tell your source that she’s going to have to find someone else to fetch her lemonade at the Cowper’s ball tomorrow night unless she apologises. You can also tell her that I’ll accept either a verbal or a written apology as long as it’s suitably abject. And that means very, very abject,” he added darkly.

“Tell me, Benedict, was it a lacy petticoat?”

With a wordless grunt of annoyance, Benedict groaned, but it was hard to hear over the laughter echoing from you and Eloise. You resembled more a pack of hyenas than two noble ladies - you probably looked just as feral after your night of mischief.

And of course, as was always your luck, that was exactly how your husband found you mere seconds later.

How Anthony had arrived without any of you hearing a carriage pulling up to the house at this time of the night - morning? You couldn’t be sure - was a mystery. Yet, there he was, hands on hips and looking thunderous as he stormed towards the three of you with all the fury of an exasperated headmaster.

“What in God’s name are you all playing at?”

You all froze.

It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over you as your eyes widened, and you all turned to stare sheepishly at him.

“Oh, darling. You’re home?”

“Don’t ‘oh darling’ me,” Anthony sighed, attempting to scold you but without much success. His attempt at seriousness was somewhat undermined by his brother’s heckling, singing ‘here comes mother’ and that ‘someone’s in trouble’. That, and with the way you were lying, he was upside down. “What are you doing up at this god forsaken hour? And why are you … is that flour? And why are you soaking wet?”

“I went for a swim.”

“A - you went for a -“

“And Benedict did my hair,” Eloise interjected suddenly, waving her arms about as she gestured to the tangle of hair upon her head. “Isn’t it marvellous?”

Anthony’s expression very much said that he did not think it was marvellous. Nor did he find any of this vaguely amusing.

In fact, by the way he took a long deep breath, you knew he was doing his best not to lose his temper and wake the entirety of the household. His brow always creased like that when he was faced with dealing with his family, but the expression only made him seem more adorable and handsome to you, rather than authoritative. However, you’d never told him so, knowing it would hardly be deemed a compliment in his eyes.

You also doubted he’d appreciate your usual response right now, which was normally to kiss said brow until it eased back into its relaxed form.

“We were just playing a game to escape the heat, darling,” you soothed. “We couldn’t sleep and all had the same idea to seek refuge outdoors… we simply got carried away passing the time.”

“What game?”

“Pardon?”

“I said, what was the game you were all playing?” Anthony suddenly quipped, the warning clear in his tone. That, and his eyes landed squarely on his two siblings, who at least had the decency to look sheepish… and afraid. “Because there is but one game I can think of that would result in a mess like this one, and I’m confused, because I know for a fact that we banned that game under this roof, and any other roof that houses the Bridgertons.”

No one moved.

No one even breathed.

It was as if you were all too scared to risk answering Anthony, even if the empty bottle of whiskey did most of the talking by itself.

“I don’t recall the name,” you blinked. “Right, Benedict?”

“Oh, uh… we… we were just- Eloise?”

Eloise froze, the guilt written all too clearly on her face for her to even try and salvage the situation - though that could also be down to the whisky she had consumed… it was honestly hard to be sure at this point.

“Well, dear brother,” she began, only to trail off as Anthony lifted his hand.

The silence was instantaneous.

No one dared to say another word, let alone move.

You’d never seen Eloise or Benedict so still in your entire life. Hell, you weren’t even sure they were breathing - probably out of fear Anthony would decide to inform their mother about their mischievous exploits.

If Anthony Bridgerton was scary when vexed, then Violet Bridgerton was a nightmare brought to life in human form. After all, as the matriarch of a family of eight children, she had learned a long time ago how to keep her unruly children in line - a harrowing experience you had only had occasion to witness once or twice since your marriage into the Bridgerton family. Once had been when Colin and Gregory had broken a priceless vase when racing around the house, despite being explicitly banned from doing so. The other had been when she had caught Eloise and Benedict smoking outside on the terrace one night.

It was easy to say where your husband had inherited it from.

“Not. Another. Word,” your husband growled, bending down and sweeping you up into his arms in a move that made you squeal in surprise. “Right now, I am taking my wife to bed and I suggest you two do the same - after you clean up your mess. I’ll deal with the lot of you in the morning.”

A laugh escaped you as you tried not to look like you were enjoying the sudden turn of events too much. After all, you doubted he’d be too happy once you were more sober and he discovered the true extent of your nightly activities.

It was why you were only too happy to let him put you to bed, grumbling all the while about letting his siblings run wild. He really was most handsome when he was flushed - a fact you were reminded of as he hastily changed for bed, flashing you a tempting glimpse of his bare torso in the process.

You could tell without asking he was tired from his journey home, as well as fighting the urge to rip his hair out over the chaos he had found upon his return.

Thankfully, his need to be in your arms outweighed the need to scold you over letting yourself be drawn into his siblings’ schemes. All it took was you pulling him down onto the mattress, and climbing into his lap to turn him into a needy, lovestruck puddle.

You’d equally missed having him in your arms, but you’d be lying if you said that your sudden forwardness wasn't also due to a mixture of the whiskey you’d drunk, and the residual giddiness from a night of mischief. A confidence radiated from you as you began to run your hands over his bare chest, taking care to graze the areas you knew made him groan.

“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he teased breathlessly, visibly unable to refuse your advances.

“Is that so?”

Anthony chuckled, nodding as he surged his lips towards yours. “Yes, so come here, my delinquent drunken wife, and let me kiss you before you and those doe-eyes of yours drive me insane. Now.”

Your laughter and surrender was immediate. “As you wish.”

Alas, for poor Anthony, that was not the end of the ordeal.

In fact, it was the next morning as you made your way into breakfast that you faced the final consequences of your delinquency.

Despite wishing to remain abed for the entire day, you’d been granted no such reprieve as your maid had entered your room at the usual appointed time and proceeded to open the curtains with no regard for the fact that you had slept a mere handful of hours. Whereas you would normally greet the day with a reluctant smile, you were in no state to manage much more than a groan as you were harshly ripped from your slumber.

If you had somehow not yet come to the conclusion that last night had been a bad idea, then the sudden flare of pain in your head at the bright intrusion was all the proof you needed. That, and the sudden churning in your stomach.

You would never let Benedict or Eloise coax you into drinking with them again.

You had not realised, despite how the idiom went, that what went up was sure to come down again - and you had come crashing down.

Hard.

“If you’re ready to dress, my lady, then breakfast will be served shortly,” your maid chirped, a dress already picked out for you to wear. She either couldn't detect your fragile state, or didn't seem to care as she continued speaking at a painfully loud volume. “My Lord sent me to wake you as he is finishing business in the study. He was up frightfully early, I could scarce believe it went the housemaids told me they’d already found him awake when they went to start the fires this morning. Gave young Samantha a right fright he did, scribbling away at his desk.”

“Oh?” you croaked.

You hadn’t even noticed the empty space in the bed bedside you until then.

Clearly Anthony had risen early, if he’d even gone to sleep at all. Why were you not surprised? Your husband was perpetually in motion, always claiming there was something or someone that needed his urgent attention as the head of the Bridgerton clan. It was just one of the things that made you love him so much.

“Is he still there?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the young girl continued, breezing about your room. “And that’s not the only strange incident this morning. It will tickle you rotten when I tell you the latest drama, but you see, Mrs Reynolds was ranting and raving about how she swore she had made three trays of fruit tarts last night, yet this morning, there were only two. The youngest kitchen maid, Betsy, is convinced it must be a ghost but my money is on Carter - the groom’s boy - he’s always snooping about the kitchen...”

You winced. Ah. Maybe you hadn't been as stealthy last night as you’d hoped after all...

With as much enthusiasm as you could muster, you began to peel yourself from the mattress, trying to appear as if you were listening to your maid’s theories as she dressed you for the day. It then took all your resolve to make it downstairs and to the breakfast table without tripping over your own feet, or emptying the non-existent contents of your stomach.

To your relief, only Eloise and Benedict had so far taken a seat at the breakfast table - and both looked about as miserable as you felt.

“Good morning,” you mumbled, taking your usual chair next to the head of the table. You were quick to accept the steaming cup of coffee Benedict handed you, shooting him a thankful look. “Dare I ask how we feel?”

“I think better than you and my dear sister here,” Benedict chirped, gesturing at a miserable looking Eloise. She had her head in her hands and was desperately trying to look at the plate of food in front of her with something other than repulsion. “Then again, I must admit I am somewhat more experienced in the art of late-night mischief than you both. I also did not have to deal with my brother before going to bed - thank you, again, for that noble sacrifice.”

“Your welcome,” you chuckled, a faint heat rising in your cheeks as you remembered the exact events after you and Anthony had gone to bed. “I just feel bad that you both got left to clean up the mess.”

“Don’t be. I think we got it all.”

“You say that but I can’t remember anything after you started singing in French,” Eloise groaned, massaging her forehead once more. “I have the oddest feeling we may have forgotten something.”

You paused. You could only hope for your sake she was wrong.

However, you were saved from such discussion by the arrival of the rest of the Bridgerton bunch. All conversation about your night-time escapades were quickly forgotten as Colin, Hyacinth and Gregory entered the room, bickering about something you couldn’t quite make out. They were swiftly followed by Violet and Francesca, who both looked unfairly cheerful for so early in the morning.

You could only wish to look so fresh and composed before your first cup of whatever caffeinated beverage you could get your hands on.

Then, finally, came your husband. Entering the room last, he turned and shot you a warm smile. Clearly, your shenanigans had been forgotten - for now - replaced instead by the memory of your other activities, much to the relief of you and your co-conspirators.

In fact, you swore you saw Eloise exhale a breath of relief when Anthony didn't immediately launch into one of his lectures. Instead, he chose to join the rest of his family in helping himself to the awaiting breakfast spread, laid out on the sideboard for them, listening to some ongoing debate between his mother and youngest brother.

“-but you said we could visit the park this afternoon.”

“I know, sweetheart, but I have to take Francesca and Eloise for their final fittings at the modiste. We shouldn’t be too long, and we can go after? Unless, perhaps your brothers will take you. Colin? Benedict? Anthony?”

Benedict looked physically pained at the idea of an afternoon at the park, what with his current delicate constitution and all. You honestly couldn't blame him. “Well, I uh - have a drawing class, this afternoon. Very last minute. Sorry.”

“And I... um, have a meeting at the club?” Colin stammered hastily. “Anthony?”

“Please, Anthony?” Gregory begged, all but pouting at his older brother as the pair made their way to the table. “I promise I’ll do all my lessons this week without complaining if you say yes. I’ll even let you have my pudding tonight.”

“As you asked so nicely, brother, I don’t see how an hour or so at the park could do any harm -” Anthony began, pulling out the chair next to you and lowering himself onto the seat in a moment that felt like it lasted forever as a horrifying sensation swept over you.

You remembered what you’d forgotten.

The chair.

“Anthony, wait-!”

The sudden crash was startling, as was the sight of your husband being sent flying backwards as the chair collapsed beneath him.

No one moved.

No one said a word.

Benedict looked across at you and Eloise, the horror clear in his eyes as he choked the word you felt on the tip of your tongue: “Run!”

#Bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #ithebookhoarder #thesilentmage #masterlist #Violet Bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #jonathan bailey #colin bridgerton

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livelovecaliforniadreams · 1 month

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2x4 | 2x7 | 2x8| Season 3

#bridgerton #kanthony dancing twirls #the little kiss #so cute #cute things #love #kanthony #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #simone ashley #jonathan bailey #season 3 #2x4 #2x7 #2x8

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frost-queen · 10 months

Text

Outmatched //Part 9 (Reader!Holmes x Anthony Bridgerton)

Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve,

@queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @denkisclown, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @october-leaves, @m-rae23,@kazbekkarluvbot, @freyathehuntress,

@kneelforloki, @mamaj-right, @queensgirl718, @abaker74, @thescooby-gang, @readers-posts, @randomstory56, @aureolinb, @fictional-hooman,

@nyenye, @loliakeoghan23, @heyheyheyggg, @aizawash0e, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @novas-dreamworld, @preciousbabypeter, @magical-spit, @heyheyheyggg, studioreader, @wonderlandfandomkingdom

Summary: When old habits resurface has it doomed everything? Perhaps one is never meant to touch love? Appearing as none can handle the task on their own, a set of schemes have come into place. Read part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 10

Your hands pulled instantly away from him, stumbling a bit back. Slightly shaking your head you saw how Lord Hill’s face stood with confusion. – “Miss Y/n.” – Lord Hill started while you bumped with your back to someone else. You slightly turned, holding your hand up as an apology. Lord Hill kept coming closer, offering you his hand again. No more. Fully turning around you took a run for it. Pushing a way through the crowd. Sherlock grabbed Mycroft by the suit, pulling him along. – “Go that way round!” – he ordered pushing his brother in a direction.

“Wha… Sherlock?” – Mycroft said bumping against a man. Sherlock pointed firm in the direction he needed to go. – “Mycroft!” – Sherlock rose his voice, pointing even firmer. Mycroft nodded shakily, pushing his way through. – “Out of the way!” – he ordered separating a couple to get through. Sherlock went his way, squeezing through the crowd to get to you before you’d head out. You were making your escape to the outdoors.

A flash of lighting making you freeze for a second. Looking over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of Lord Hill. Shaking your head, you didn’t want to be tangled up in this. You pushed through, making your way across. If it rained it didn’t matter. If lightning struck you, it might end your agony and you’d be blissful about it. This was the very reason you detested the social season.

If you could’ve gone back in time, you would’ve prevented your younger self from agreeing on behalf of your brother. No matter how much you loved him, you should’ve remained headstrong. If only Mycroft wasn’t so cold hearted. If only he dared himself to be vulnerable, he might find happiness or love. If only Sherlock wasn’t so sophisticated. If only he found pleasure in engaging more with others. If only he wasn’t so complicated talented. He’d might find someone too that could keep him company.

Someone equally matched with his wits and brains. Someone who would understand that he needs time of his own. Finding comfort in it. Security. If only your brothers were better, it wouldn’t have to fall all upon your shoulders. Squeezing yourself through a couple, you were haunted by it all. Tears captive in the corner of your eyes. Vision turning glossy, making you blink rapidly to see clearer. You reached the large, windowed doors leading to the gardens.

Grabbing the handle you opened them. Panting loud as the smell of rain whiffed through the open crack. A firm hand pressed itself onto the glass, shutting the windowed door shut before you could fully open it. Startling you. – “Sherlock let me open this door.” – you called out, fussing at the handle. The hand kept the door from moving.

“I cannot.” – a response came, only it didn’t sound as your brother. Blinking surprised you slowly turned your head to the side. Eyes widening at Lord Anthony Bridgerton. His breathing loud, staring rather serious at you. – “My lord…” – you said breathless, caught in his gaze. He took a step closer to you, lowering his hand onto the handle. His intense gaze taking a hold of you. – “Do not do this…” – he whispered, gaze lowering onto you, resting briefly on your lips.

You lifted your chin up, taking a stance of stubborn proudness. – “Why not? What concern am I to you?” – you asked him. His gaze flashing up to your eyes once more. He stared bewildered at you, flung back to his nightmares. The nightmares he had after he had found you in the rain all alone. Sprained ankle. Broken perhaps he thought at the point. The smell of rain so distinct in his mind. The terror swirling around him as he feared the worst. His hand trembled gripped on the handle.

He opened his mouth wanting to rant out words, not the kindest when his pride held him back. He sucked in a breath, turning his head, fighting every urge to scold you. Scold you for being so reckless and taunting his heart. For it can only take so much. – “Am I to expect an answer or do you lack the capacity to be honest with yourself?” – you responded with a little bit of disrespect. Anthony tensed his jaw, opening the door. The cold breeze and sound of rain welcoming.

“Do proceed then!” – he answered loudly, gesturing at the outdoors. – “Forget I was ever caring.” – he outed. – “If you might overlook your own pride, you might have noticed it.” – he ended with a sarcastic smile. – “Caring?” – you said in disbelieve. – “Forgive me my lord but am I to mistake insults for care?” – you replied full of wit back. – “If I am not mistaken you were the first to insult me!” – he reminded you off. – “Only because you were conceited.” – You spoke back, shutting the windowed door to keep the cold out.

Anthony puffed loud. – “Conceited!” – he replied at the brink of losing his mind. – “Take a look in the mirror Miss Y/n.” – he said coldly moving his head up and down on you. You were shocked. – “Thank you for explaining so fully!” – you said back. Anthony and you turned away from each other. Facing away from him, you looked to the side, peeking over your shoulder. A sadness falling over you.

How you didn’t mean all that, but your pride was one to stand in the way. Anthony looked up, slowly lowering his head, gaze casted down. Pride what a vicious thing. If only you could see how much he truly cared. If only he was brave enough to say it. He took in a deep breath, almost thinking about apologizing. Shaking his head, he ignored the matter of his own feelings. He took off, leaving you alone.

Moving your arms over each other, you sulked in pity. – “Y/n!” – lifting your head a bit up, you saw your brothers come near. Sherlock wrapped his arms tight around you. – “You are alright.” – he said out of breath. – “For a moment we thought you were going to do something foolish.” – Mycroft pitched in. – “Perhaps I already did.” – you answered looking pitiful at the ground. – “Sister?” – Sherlock said tilting your chin up for you to look at him. He wanted to look at you. To understand what you meant.

He could always read so much in your eyes; they were like an open book to him. You casted your head aside, not wanting to look at him. – “I messed up…” – you said, lip quivering. A loud sob emerged from inside you as your face fell into your hands. Quietly crying at your own demise. Sherlock wrapped an arm around you, soothing you. Mycroft looked uneasy around. Seeing how you caught some attention of unwanted see-ers. Mycroft snapped his finger at Sherlock for attention.

“We leave for home.” – he made clear, stroking his moustache. Sherlock agreed, escorting you out of the ballroom. The carriage ride home was silent. Not one daring to start the conversation. At your return home, father was rather perplex as to why you had returned so early. Mycroft shook his head, letting him know to drop the matter.

You took the stairs up without a word. Both your brothers giving each other a concerning look. In your nightwear you sat by the window, silk shawl around your arms for comfort. Your mothers silk shawl. There was a gentle knock on the door. – “Go away.” – you said softly not in the mood for any company, yet the door opened anyways. – “You know how stubborn I am.” – Mycroft said popping his head in. – “A simple go away doesn’t do the matter.” – he added with a chuckle, closing the door behind him. You were a bit surprised to find Mycroft entering your room.

It was out of character. If you expected anyone to enter it would be father…or Sherlock, but never Mycroft. He took in a deep breath, watching your room from afar. Moving a bit up, you made room for your brother to come and sit down. He walked over, sitting down by your side. He stared out of the window for a moment. Setting his words right as everything was always calculated with him. Each and every word with precision.

When he looked at you, the words lingering on his tongue vanished into thin air at the sight of mother’s shawl. He smiled saddened, reaching out to feel the fabric on his fingers. – “Mother’s shawl.” – he said brought back to so many sweet memories with her. Despite being a difficult child to show affection, he did very much love her. You smiled faintly back at him. Mycroft exhaled deep, looking up to the ceiling. Whatever pre-calculated words he had in his mind were gone.

“What happened?” – he asked thinking of how mother would approach this. You looked with tears in your eyes at him, trying to keep smiling. He noticed how close you were to breaking apart. – “Let us say I am my worst own enemy.” – you told him doing your very best not to cry. Mycroft took a deep breath, moving his arm around you. Pulling you closer so that you could lay your head on his shoulder.

“That indeed we are.” – he responded, rubbing his jaw against your hair. The door opened slightly revealing a saddened Sherlock. Mycroft sighed loud, waving him over. Sherlock shut the door behind him, coming over. He sat down on the other side of Mycroft. Sherlock moved his arms around Mycroft and so on around you as well.

“We are a broken family… aren’t we?” – you asked staring in front of you. Mycroft looked up, laying his other arm over Sherlock. All too afraid to answer the question, but knowing deep down it might be true. Outside the rain clattered against the window, washing away any stains.

The next morning you were playing chess with Sherlock. – “It is your turn.” – you said looking up to your brother standing with his back to you. Thinking. He hummed confused, turning his posture. He barely glanced at the board as he made his move, taking a pawn of you. He then returned to his brooding. You observed the board closely, thinking of every possible way. If you did this, he might do that. Biting your lip, you weren’t sure what next move you should use. – “Try your horse.” – Sherlock said without looking. – “I can think for myself.” – you answered bothered.

Yet you took the horse, setting it down. – “What are you even thinking off? Your turn.” – you said. Sherlock approached the board once more moving his tower side-ways. – “Your turn.” – he answered smirking. You sighed loud when he stepped away once more. You were observing the board once more, thinking off what to do next. – “You might want to keep an eye on your king.” – you heard him say, annoying you. You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. – “Then simply play chess with yourself!” – you announced.

It was after all kind of what he was doing already. Sherlock sighed once, pulling his chair back to sit down. – “You think too little.” – he told you, moving your pawn in your turn. – “You too much.” – you responded as he moved his queen across the board. – “Check.” – he called out pleasantly. You got up, scraping your chair back over the floor. – “Good the game is finished then!” – you responded. – “Far from sister, you can still…” – Sherlock answered but you wouldn’t have ears for it.

Anthony sighed deep sitting rather lowly in his armchair. Sulking in his own misery. Violet was watching him while drinking her tea. Anthony sighed again as she couldn’t take it anymore. She set her cup of tea down, getting up. She gave a kick against his legs for him to sit up straighter. Anthony obeyed, sitting up straighter with confusion. – “I think you’ve wallowed in self-pity enough now Anthony!” – she called out. – “I have not!” – he answered rather childish. – “That is enough!” – Violet shouted, losing her temper. – “I am going to be very clear with you Anthony and I want you to listen!” – Violet spoke loudly making Benedict press his lips together in delight.

Eloise tapped him on the shoulder, coming to sit near him. – “Mother is about to scold Anthony.” – Benedict whispered to her. – “Now that is a sight I would love to see.” – she responded in a hushed tone. – “If you do not start acting up right now, you will lose all your chances at happiness.” – her firm gaze staring back at him. Her expression softened upon seeing him turn inwards. – “You deserve to be happy… do not deny yourself from it. Please for your dear mama…” – Violet came sitting on the edge of the armchair, wrapping an arm around him.

“You are good enough… but you must fight for it Anthony… nothing comes when you stand and wait. You must find the courage to speak up and fight for what you love, for that is true bravery.” – Anthony looked up to her with tears in his eyes, nodding. They hugged as Benedict and Eloise were rather unsatisfied. – “Dissapointing.” – Eloise puffed out.

The wind rippled over the water in the pond. Leaves gently dancing with the flow of the breeze. You stood by the pond admiring the waterlilies. A frog hopped on a leaf making you smile. Hearing some rumor behind you, you turned to look. By the trees stood Anthony Bridgerton. He noticed you as well, making you both look ashamed away. – “Go on then.” – Sherlock whispered to himself from afar. – “Go to him sister.” – he muttered out, gesturing with a little push. – “Anthony… do so…” – Violet said standing not far from Sherlock.

He hadn’t noticed her yet, too focused on you. – “Yes… yes… good sister.” – he mumbled to himself seeing you take slight advantages into approaching him. – “Good Anthony… now go.” – Violet spoke urging her son from afar to do so. Sherlock and Violet watched how both of you attempted to come near yet given up. Shaking your heads, you both turned away, dismissing the matter. Sherlock groaned loud in frustration.

Violet sighing deep. It was then that they acknowledged each other. Slowly turning to each other. Violet came nearer as did Sherlock. – “It appears Lord Holmes… we’ll have to assist a bit in the matter.” – she told him. – “It appears so Lady Bridgerton.” – Sherlock responded. Violet sighed. – “It won’t be easy… my son…” – she sighed again. – “My sister too…” – he answered with a sigh of his own.

Both looked at each other and laughed. Sherlock offered her his arm as she took it. – “Say Lady Bridgerton, what schemes do you have in mind?” – he asked. Violet smiled delighted. – “I have plenty of idea’s to force the opportunity on those two.” – she told him. – “Good.” – Sherlock responded. – “For I am counting on this union formed by love.” – Sherlock continued.

“It is so obvious.” – Violet said as Sherlock accompanied her on a stroll. – “It appears the only two unable to see the love for one another are themselves.” – Sherlock nodded agreeing firmly. – “Shall we begin planning?” – Sherlock proposed as it appears the only way to bring you closer is by the hand of a gentle assistance.

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