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nikkisheep · 10 months

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To Be Alone With You

Anthony Bridgerton x female!Sharma!reader

Warnings: Smut, TENSION, cursing, oral (f), reader is Kate's full sister, kissing, touching when not supposed to, Anthony and his voice (warning himself), virgin reader (innocent ofc), sex on a dock (lol), kinda public sex, slight angst

I am so sorry that it got so long but it is so worth it. This is also my first Bridgerton fic so hope its good. :)

Summary: It was time that Anthony Bridgerton to finally meet the final Sharma sister who may stand in his way of marrying Miss Edwina Sharma but not like he expected her to.

Anthony Bridgerton was a man who was used to having any woman melt and cling to his every word. Women practically threw themselves at his feet the moment he walked in the room. His presence was a strong one, making everyone eager to please the viscount.

When Viscount Bridgerton met Edwina Sharma, the newly named "Diamond of the Season", he was happy that he could find at least one woman with half a brain. Miss Edwina was the suitable bride and soon Viscountess. It was almost too easy, so he thought. That was until he met the elder sister of Miss Edwina. Kate Sharma, a woman of one and twenty who was unwed herself, was a challenge that Anthony could not refuse. He fell into a pursuit to win over the eldest Sharma sister, doing everything by the book. Well, with a few exceptions.

The Viscount did not want a love match. He could never fall in love with the woman who will bear his children. He just couldn't. And Miss Edwina Sharma was exactly the woman who he could not possibly love but, she would make a wonderful bride for him to breed and come to have a heir to fill the Viscount role when Anthony died.

A last, his mother, Viscountess Violet Bridgerton, had invited the Sharma family to visit the lovely Aubrey Halls. It would be Mrs. Mary Sharma, the lovely girls' mother, Miss Edwina Sharma and then Miss Kate Sharma. Anthony was ready to deal with Kate when she arrived.

---

Dinner was being served when the thunder started. Benedict seemed like he had lost his mind, no doubt had drank Colin's tea that he brought from his travels.

"Have you noticed, Col?" Benedict asked, "The twinkles of the candles, it is as....as if we sit among the stars."

Eloise snorted and looked to her older brother, "What is wrong with you?''

"I was just telling Benedict how brilliant the stars were in Greece," answered Colin.

Benedict went to take a sip of his wine but knocked it over, causing Violet and the other ladies to gasp at the table. The brother smiled and rubbed his hands over his cheeks in an innocent way.

"Lord Bridgerton, Miss Sharma here," A butler said.

"Whatever do you mean, Miss Sharma is here? How many are there?"

In just a few seconds a woman walks in, wearing the similar purple dress that the Sharma sisters were wearing. She looked identical to Kate, except her eyes were lighter. Her hair was more brown than black and she held her head high. Her presence was enough to even sober up Benedict for a moment.

"Is it just me or is there two Kates?" Benedict said, mind foggy.

"I am so sorry for my late arrival. Lady Bridgerton, the house is lovely." The woman said.

Violet blushed and thanked the woman. The older woman always enjoyed getting compliments about her home that she shared with Edmund.

"You said you couldn't make it," Edwina states as she moves to hug the woman. Everyone was confused as a goose until Kate stood up.

"This is my sister," Kate said, moving to stand by her.

You introduce yourself and smile at everyone, that is until you see Anthony. He had this look about him and you couldn't quite tell.

"I assume this is the viscount you were telling me about, Kate?" You said.

"Yes, this is Lord Bridgerton. He is the viscount and is to marry Edwina."

You looked at him and he just smirked. He had found a new toy to play with. And god did he want to play.

You looked at him.

"My lord, forgive me for my tartiness," You say, voice rich.

"All is forgiven, my lady." He had a hard look.

"Please, I am hardly a noble lady to earn that title,'' You tease.

Anthony was taken by surprise, no one had ever teased about their noblity or anything. Being a proper lady is very serious and not taken lightly. There was another Sharma sister, but at least this one seemed nice. For now.

---

You were quite the most annoying and challenging lady Anthony had the misery to meet. You talked too much, you jested a bit, your teasing with Benedict made his blood boil. Your words melting off your tongue and practically bringing Anthony's younger brother to his knees.

Benedict's face had blushed right before you move to rest your hand on his shoulder.

"My dear, Benedict, how are you?" You asked kindly, flashing that beautiful smile that made everyone melt.

"I am quite well, Miss Sharma." He looked down right flustered with your presence beside him.

Lady Bridgerton held a small ball at Aubrey Hall and Benedict had just finished dancing with you. The two of you had swept through the floor, everyone in envy that Mr. Bridgerton's attention was solely on you.

"Brother, I hate to steal our guest from you but I am in need of a dance," Anthony stepped in to say.

"I suppose that I have one dance in me," You laughed.

"I hadn't asked yet," Anthony said.

"Well, in that case, Benedict you wouldn't mind having yet another dance with me?" You smirked when Anthony rolled his eyes and groaned.

Once you got on the dance floor, Anthony could not keep his eyes off you, even as he danced with Edwina and Kate.

"My brother seems to be taking a liking to you," Benedict smiled.

"Please, he wants to marry my sister. After all, who even said I wanted him. Maybe I want you," You whisper the last part in his ear. He shudders against you and smiles.

"Is that true now, Miss Sharma?"

"Perhaps."

----

Pall Mall was the ruthless game that the Bridgerton's ever played. The Mallet of Death sat in your hands as Benedict had handed it to you with a wink and a sly smile. You blushed at the brother's antics.

He moved to be closer to you and whispered something in your ear which made you snort aloud and Kate looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Who has my bloody mallet?" Anthony's voice boomed in the air.

"My lord, I do not know," Kate smirked.

"Where is it?"

You coughed to clear your throat, suddenly bringing the Viscount's attention to you. That might have been a bad idea. It surely was.

"You...You have my mallet, I believe."

"I do?" You inquired.

"Yes, Miss Sharma, you do."

"Well, I suppose that I could just give it to you," You start to hand it to him, his siblings surprised at how easy you were giving it up, and Anthony was smiling, "But first you will have to catch me." You took off running down the field and Anthony just watched in surprise.

"Did she?"

"I believe she did," Daphne laughed. She watched as her older brother looked as if he wanted to blow up.

"Dear brother, I think you should go get her if that mallet is very important to you." Colin laughed as Anthony ran down the field, looking for you as the Mallet of Death rested in your possession.

He ran looking for you and he heard your sweet giggle coming from in the garden. He looked to see that everyone had given up on waiting for them and started the match without the two of you. He walked around the garden to find you crouching behind a hedge and was covering your mouth as you looked around the side of the bush, hoping to not be seen.

His boots moved to quietly as he stalked closer to your frame. He then grabbed your waist and picked you up, causing you to gasp into his hand.

"Lord Bridgerton, put me down this instant."

He placed you down on the ground and stands close to your body. His warmth and scent poured over you in waves. He smelt like sweat, dirt, body wash, slight scent of vanilla, and sandalwood?

"Lord Bridger-"

"Anthony, my name is Anthony." He said, panting at the closeness that he had created.

"My lord-"

"Anthony."

"My lord, it is improper to call you by your given name," You say, trying to catch your breath and not breathe his scent in.

"And us being in my mother's garden alone is very improper, I dare say, Miss Sharma."

Your smell floods his senses when he takes a deep breath and move closer to you, chests touching. The smell of dirt, sweat, lilies and Jasmine? God, it drove him crazy. Just being around you drove him crazy.

"You followed me here.''

"You ran here."

"You chased me."

"You took my mallet."

"I-" You stutter, "Benedict gave it to me."

He looks at you with something dark in his eyes, something that burned with fiery. His hand came to touch your waist and you nearly melt. He looks at your chest, noticing that you were wearing the Bridgerton color. You normally wore purple but you were wearing the baby blue that stood for his family.

"You are wearing my family color," He says, blood rushing some where it did not need to be.

"Oh, I had not known that I wasn't allowed to wear blue."

"It stands for my family and you...are...wearing...my...color."

His body presses closer to you, invading your space. He moves to corner you against the tall hedge, the only thing keeping your situation from any on lookers.

His mouth moves to rest beside your ear, hot breath fanning over the exposed skin there, goosebumps rising on your skin.

"You want something, I can sense it."

You shudder.

"And what would that be, my lord?"

"You want me," He said lowly.

"You are to marry Edwina," You correct him.

"That doesn't change that you desire me," He chuckles at your attempt.

"I beg your pardon. You are a rake and I have no desire for such a person like you. You are to marry my sister, not me. If you wish to be with my sister than act like it, if not then leave her alone. I will not be some play thing for you to play with when you want to."

"Oh but you are my play toy. You are whatever I want you to be. Do you know why?" He asked.

"Why?"

"Because all I have to do is whisper real close to your ear, like this," He moved even closer, "And tell you that I desire you in ways that would make any mama blush and cry out for improper topics to a lady."

You take in a ragged breath.

"Desire me?"

"Yes, why do you think I came out here to get you?"

"To get your mallet?"

"No, so I can have you."

" You are courting my sister to marry. I am done with this topic and I am leaving this garden. Good day, Lord Bridgerton."

---

Anthony was reeling. He couldn't stop thinking about you. He can't sleep at night because of you. It wasn't your fault. No, it was your fault. You were the one who kept reminding him of his soon to be proposal to your sister and putting him in his place. Heavens above, he couldn't help but be aroused when you put him where he was meant to be. And that perfume that you have, Jasmine and Lillies, god it did things to him.

---

The day had been hot, very hot and you knew that you shouldn't but you were burning for a swim in the lake. You couldn't help it. After being in the garden with the Viscount, it felt you aflame.

Sneaking out of your chambers, you made your way outside to the lake that rested toward the trees.

Looking around, you made sure that no one was up and you were making sure that you were not followed. You made your way to a tree and took off your coat. Yo began your task of unbuttoning your gown.

Anthony watched you remove each piece of fabric from your body as he made his way down to the lake himself. He had not known that you were going to be here. He had not expected it. He always goes for a midnight swim when he couldn't sleep. Why he couldn't sleep? You.

Slipping onto the dock, you take a dive, cold water enveloping your body. It felt heavenly against your heated skin. Anthony was never to be allowed to know that he was the reason behind the midnight swim in the lake. You swam to the middle and was sighing while looking up to the moon. The entire lake was lit by the moon, banishing all shadows from being cast onto your face. You looked angelic.

Anthony slipped in the water after stripping completely bare and went underwater. He wanted to see you move about when you were by yourself. He had wanted to see you nude, part of his mind begging him to see what you looked like, but you were still a lady and he was a gentleman.

You heard a splash and you turned around very quickly, spotting none other than Anthony Bridgerton. You knew you were caught and he would laugh at you but he just swam closer. You could only see his shoulders and water was dripping down them to be collected back to the lake.

"My lord-"

"I do believe that we are now way past formalities," He chuckled.

He was silently begging to hear his name fall from your lips. He knew this was wrong. You were his betrothed sister. You were a lady. You were innocent. If he took that from you, you would be ruined. But...but you looked so desirable. You looked just ready to be ravished by his mouth. To be tasted in places that you had never thought of to be touched. To be submitted to such incredible pleasure that Anthony knew that he could bring you. To be his.

He swam closer to you, grabbing your hand which he used to pull you until you were placing your hands on his shoulders to hold onto. You gasped at how warm he still was, even in the chilled water of the night. Anthony looked at you, smiling when he realizes that you move even closer, your legs brushing every time you move to keep yourselves afloat.

"I want you," He admits.

He kisses your lips, groaning when you kiss back only for a second before he feels himself being pushed away from you.

"You are engaged to my sister," You say.

"Not yet."

"But-"

"But, I want you. I don't want Edwina. I don't want Kate. I want you," He says, "I desire you."

Anthony kissed your lips once more, swallowing any sound coming from your mouth. His tongue brushed yours and you moaned. You had never done that but with Anthony, you felt so good you couldn't keep it inside.

Anthony had you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling something quite odd in between his legs but you didn't question it when he took your breast into his awaiting mouth. He sucked your nipple and ran his tongue around it as he teased you mercilessly. Your hair was down so it was hanging in the water as you threw your head back in bliss as he moved to bite at your collarbones and neck.

Anthony moved the two of you all the way to the dock, picking you up out of the water and seating you directly onto the hard wood. He then watches as you move back, suddenly aware of how exposed you are to him. He puts his hands on the dock and pushes himself out of the water, droplets trickling down his slightly hairy chest down to his now every noticeable something. You didn't know what on earth it could even be.

"What is that?" You said shyly, pointing to his hips.

"That would be my cock." He just chuckled.

"It looks hard," You said, "does it hurt?"

He groaned at your innocence. God, you were going to be the death of him. You looked so nervous to even ask and then when you did, you blushed deeply. You were so cute.

"It hurts some times when I desire someone really bad," He explained.

"Like Edwina? Did it ever hurt for Edwina or Kate?" You asked softly.

"No, never with them. I want you," He said, holding your face, "God, you consume every thought that I make. You make it so, so hard to be a gentleman. There is no way that I can escape you, no matter how hard I try because you are always in my mind."

He kissed you once more and you let him. You were going to forget about Edwina, who the man currently moving in between your legs and kissing every inch of your body, was supposed to get married to. You were going to forget the rules of being a proper lady. You were going to forget formalities and just revel in the pleasure that is being caused by the mouth of your sister's soon to be betrothed.

"Anthony!" You cried when he made contact with the little bud between your folds and he licked it. Your body was shot with electricity that sent your back to be arching.

He hummed against your core and went back to sucking on your clit. No one or nothing could have prepared you for the Viscount's tongue to slip inside of you. He had done so when you were pulling on his hair as you grasped for anything but you could not find anything to ground you. Anthony swept you away in pure pleasure as he ate you like a starved man. He drank anything your body was willing to give and he took it with a groan. His eyes rolled back as he tasted you.

"Oh, my lord-"

"It's Anthony. Just Anthony," He said before staring at your weeping cunt.

Your hands pulled at the man's hair and his other hand, that wasn't holding down your hips, moved up to grab a hold of your free hand that was gripping your breast. Your back arched when he made one last circle with his tongue on your clit and you burst with carnal desire. You shook against Anthony's mouth as he drank you in.

He thought you were so beautiful laying out for him, under the stars on his dock, wet hair after a late night swim and most of all, the way the moon shone down on you. You looked ever so innocent but oh so dirty.

"Are you okay?" He asked when he noticed you not moving but still shaking.

"I'm more than okay."

He laughed and began kissing up your body. His tongue poked out every once and a while as he traveled up to your mouth. The taste of yourself was erotic. You had never known something could exist. Anthony moved on top of you and positioned himself so that his cock would rest between your sensitive folds. He had to contain himself so that he wouldn't cum right on the spot.

You gave him a nod before he claimed your lips as he pushed himself inside your waiting body. You moaned out loud before you started panting against Anthony's mouth as the two of you tried to adjust to the sudden feeling. His arms shook as his head fell onto your chest as your hand ran through his hair, pulling slightly.

"Are you ready for me to move because if you aren't that's okay but I really need to move?" Water trickled down his body as he held himself above you, looking down at you.

"Please, Anthony." He smiled at his name and started to slowly pull out, letting you feel every ridge and vein his dick possessed and you were enjoying it. Anthony thrusted back in and your head fell back against the wooden dock. As Anthony thrusted his cock in and out of you, the only things that could be heard was your labored breathing and the sounds of your bodies moving against each other as the two of you reached new heights together and the sound of crickets chirping in the grass.

"Oh, god you feel so good," Anthony groaned.

"So fucking good," You panted, hips rising to match his. You were chasing something but you didn't know what. You didn't even know what was happening when your muscles started to tighten and some kind of euphoria started to crash down on you.

Anthony's breathing got caught in his throat as he watched your face contort in pleasure as he pumped himself constantly in you, trying to reach his end. He looked at your blissful face and decided that you would give him another.

"Just one more, darling, and then I can fill you up real nice." His hand went in between your legs as he watched himself move inside and out of you. His thumb began circling your clit, his cock hitting the right spots every time, his face tightening in desirable lust as he held himself above you, moving faster, trying to make you cum for a third time before he got his.

"Oh, Anthony!" You moan before he places a kiss on your lips to silence you. You cum one last time and Anthony unloads himself completely in you once bottoming out inside you. You laid there with him as he felt the aftershocks of his orgasm and you shuddered at the sudden cold.

Anthony kisses you lazily as he feels you giggle against his lips when he sighs into you. He pulls out and then shudders at the cold.

"I think we should go get some nice warm milk and sit by the fire to warm up," He proposes.

"Won't we get caught?"

"Darling, we just had sex on the dock in front of my house and you are worried about getting caught with some milk by the fire?" He laughed.

"Well, I can't be seen with you alone."

"Fine, but let's get dressed and go inside so we can sleep."

"In the same room?" You ask in a quiet voice.

"Not yet. We might get caught."

"Maybe getting caught wouldn't be so bad then," You giggle when you see his bare ass.

"Oh you are a little minx," Anthony groans.

"Maybe," You gasp when he picks you up after you get dressed and then carries you inside.

He takes you to your room and puts you down so you can stand. He doesn't want to let go but he knows he needs to leave soon.

''Good night, Miss Sharma." He said with a kiss.

"Good night, Lord Bridgerton," You sigh against his lips.

The kiss is passionate but is cut short when the clock decided to strike three and make a loud noise. You both laugh and he sees you close the door and he then walks to his chambers.

He finally can go to sleep with a smile on his face. A smile that didn't disappear the following day until he realized that he had to propose to your sister, Edwina Sharma.

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lydiimae · 18 days

Text

Gentle

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, panic attack, fluff hehe, Anthony being the sweet husband ik he is

A.N: Hello my loves and hello dearest anon ^-^/! This one is a bit on the shorter side (2.5k words) but I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope I gave you what you wanted Nonnie. I imagine Anthony (I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE SEASON 3 MARRIED ANT AND KATE) as a protective and loving husband, who is also extremely gentle when he wants to be. Also, Infatuation pt two is in the works, for those that are eager (thank you btw <3 T-T) it should be out by next week at the latest. P.S I am planning on uploading at least twice a week hehe! Enjoy my dears! <3

Req found here <3

Marrying a Viscount was always going to be stressful, it came with responsibility. As well as a certain necessity to be perfect, at least that is the thought that nagged you. It was only a matter of time before the stress of being Anthony Bridgerton's wife caught up to you.

You had honeymooned in Edinburgh and Bath, all of the usual quiet places. He wished to make it just that, quiet and peaceful as both of you knew that would be one of the only times you would live in that blissful silence. Without worry of gossip, or rumors, or responsibilities.

Anthony also knew that you had a tendency to be anxious. Whether it be a result of how many people were present at a ball, or the rumors that tended to linger in your mind even after they slowly washed away from others. He wanted to show you the sights, and the gorgeous nature that was present in both of the cities that he had selected.

He also wished to show you the city of Bath. Take you to one of the large Roman baths, parade you around town, and wander the hills for hours on end. All lovely things that had taken your mind away from the lingering anxieties of being the new Viscountess.

It had worked marvelously, you had been the happiest he had seen you ever since you had met. You were completely in your element, especially when you were outside. It was a very loving, and freeing six months away.

Your leg jiggles as you fiddle with your gloves, looking out the window of the carriage as it rolls down the road to Aubery Hall. As soon as you had gotten back to England, your anxieties flooded back into your mind. You were already dreading what was going to happen. You and Anthony were already planning to attend a ball tomorrow, the first one of your marriage.

You hated it, you knew that people would talk, the women would glare and whisper, perhaps even confront you. You did not want to deal with it. You wished to be back in Bath, having a picnic with your husband, far away from the gossip.

You feel a hand on your knee and turn. "You have been antsy for four whole hours, my love. What is it?" He asks, moving his hand to yours and giving it a squeeze. You chew on your bottom lip and settle for resting your head on his shoulder. "I am only nervous for the ball tomorrow." You whisper.

"The ball, or the people?" He returns, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before tilting your chin up so he can look at you. You frown slightly and he gives a comforting grin. "They will talk, you know that, but none of it will matter. It is just that, talk." He murmurs before pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"But what if... you leave and then I am alone and one of them tries to-" You begin, but he cuts you off swiftly with another kiss. A longer one, but still as sweet as before. You sigh and rest your forehead against his. "You are so much more capable than you know, Y/N. You are the perfect Viscountess and the perfect Bridgerton. None of them shall ever be able to take either of those two things away from you." He whispers.

You smile as your cheeks heat up from his speech. "You are mine, mine to protect and mine to love. I take that duty very seriously." He finishes, cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch and smile. "I love you." You whisper back and he grins. "And I love you." He returns.

Tomorrow comes all too quick, and soon you are in the large closet in your master bedroom, your maids pulling on the strings of your corset to get it to your liking. Anthony, however, waits downstairs in his study already dressed up fully for the occasion.

You had promised to try and be quick, and he knows you tried to keep that promise. He also knew that you wanted to look perfect, so he did not mind being a bit late to the ball. He wished for you to be as comfortable as you could be. After about thirty minutes of waiting, he had sent his family ahead, promising to meet them there.

He would be lying if tonight was a relaxed night for him. He was a ball of nerves, but he knew how to hide them well. He was not nervous for him, no, he was nervous for you.

He knew that you were perfect, and all of the much older and married members of the ton did as well. It was the cruel debutantes he worried about. He knew that many of them would be bitter, even if they were not interested in him. It was many women's third or fourth social season, many women would take that out on any kind soul they could find, and you were the kindest.

He downs his glass of scotch and adjusts his cravat before standing up and going to the bottom of the staircase. He wanted to see you now, and he would not wait another second. Just as he is about to call out, you appear at the top of the steps, dressed in the infamous Bridgerton blues.

The gown is a gorgeous navy blue, and you have paired it with long, white, silk gloves. Your hair is pulled back in his favorite way, an elegant pin holding it up in an elaborate bun. To tie it all together, you are wearing the diamond necklace and earrings he bought you in Edinburgh. So simple, yet so incredibly beautiful. So you.

You smile at him as you walk down the stairs and he just about dies right there. "My God, you look ethereal." He whispers as he offers you his arm. You gladly take it and he grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leading you to the carriage.

The driver opens the door of the carriage once the two of you arrive at Lady Danbury's grand estate. You look out at the many other women and men filing out of their carriages and feel a familiar sense of dread, causing you to gnaw on the skin on the inside of your cheek.

"Darling?" He asks after a moment and you look up, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment once you realize he has probably been holding his hand out for you for some time. "Sorry." You mumble, before taking his hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet and help you out of the carriage.

The two of you walk hand in hand into the ballroom, which is bustling with activity. However, when the Viscount and his new bride enter, all of the chattering halts. The eery silence makes you wrap your arms around one of his, the sense of dread looming over your head only getting more intense.

He notices and moves down, kissing you softly on the lips. Part of it is for show, of course, but part of it is also because he knows that it will calm your nerves down to a point where you can manage them. He just knows, always.

He pulls away. "Come on, we are going to make this boring night a good one, hm?" He murmurs. You smile gently and nod, walking deeper into the ball. You hear the whispers, the cruel words from the other women, but choose to ignore them for now.

The two of you arrive at the space on the floor where his family stands. He lets go of your arm with a kiss on your cheek and enters a conversation with Colin. You walk to Eloise, of course, and begin to speak to her about your newest literary obsession.

Anthony eventually finds himself surrounded by his friends, leaving you and Eloise to your own devices. "It is quite an interesting story, I am surprised I only found just found it." You hum as she grins. She had recommended the book Frankenstein after you had said you wished to read more of the classics. "I am surprised as well, you always struck me as a horror type of woman." She teases, bumping your shoulder. You laugh lightly as she does.

"Well, now I know that I am only to come to you for book recommendations as my husband is quite lacking in that department." You return, your eyes filled with playful affection. "Well, I could have told you that, Y/N. My brother, it seems, only likes books in the historical genre." She sighs and looks at her glass of lemonade. "I shall be right back, I am going to get more lemonade." She says and is off before you can protest.

You frown and look around for someone else to talk to, to hide behind really, as you wait. Before you can you are approached by none other than Cressida Cowper, an absolute addict to gossip. "Y/N L/N, I am surprised to see you alone. Has he grown bored of you already?" She says, tilting her head.

You wince and sigh. You knew it was coming, Cressida always had a knack for finding you when you were alone and vulnerable. Often times her insults insist on picking on your nervous demeanor, or even your kindness. The use of your maiden name, however, stung uniquely. A sign that she thought your marriage insignificant, and who knows how many others did. You can feel your breathing pick up already.

"Cressida. It is lovely to see you." You say softly, turning to face her head on. She rolls her eyes at your blatant disregard for her question. "Indeed. It is always a pleasure seeing how... dull you look. I am surprised the Viscount has not already taken a mistress, I mean, he would do well to." She sneers. "I-" You begin but she cuts you off.

"You know I am right. You are dull, Y/N. You always have been. It was a miracle you got as much attention as you did when you debuted and an even bigger miracle that you got married to Anthony. He will grow bored of you, just as everyone has." She scoffs before sauntering off to her next target.

You feel the heat of tears in your eyes and the familiar feeling of tightening in your chest. You know Cressida can be cruel, but what if she got those words from another? What if she was right? Perhaps Anthony will grow bored, perhaps he already has. The thoughts have you going into a spiral, your breathing picking up until you realize you cannot breathe anymore.

Eloise, upon noticing that Cressida had made her way over to you, rushes back. "Oh God, that woman is nothing but a jealous old spinster, Y/N." She whispers, putting her glass down and reaching out before she realizes that you are already too far gone. She takes your hand and begins to walk in search of her brother, "Hold on, Y/N. He has to be near. It will be alright." She says softly, though it does nothing to stop the state of panic you are already in.

She finds him about two minutes later, and you are already in tears. She drags you to him and spins him around. "Cressida." She whispers before leaving the two of you together. He immediately wraps his arms around you and leads you out of the ballroom to one of the balconies, whispering sweet nothings into your ear the entire way.

"Alright. Look at me, my love." He murmurs once you are outside, grabbing your hands in his and pressing them to his chest so you can feel his heartbeat. "Ready?" He whispers when your tear-filled eyes meet his and you nod.

"Alright, in..." He breathes in and you do the same, your breathing stuttering as you try your best to follow. "And out..." He whispers, exhaling with you. The two of you have gone through this many times. He had helped you when you were courting, when you were engaged, and he will help you until the end of time.

After a few moments of him guiding you, your breathing calms and you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your face into the fabric of his cravat. "What did she say, darling?" He murmurs, rubbing your back gently.

You hesitate, and he senses your apprehension. "I will not get angry with you over words that such an insignificant woman spoke, I will not cause a scene. I promise. I only wish to know before I take you back home, hm?" He whispers, gently cupping your cheeks so he can look at you.

You wait for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodding. "She said that you would grow tired of me, just like everyone else. That you would take a mistress. She said I was dull." You whisper back, your grip on his shirt tightening.

His face darkens for a moment before he pulls you back into his embrace. "She knows nothing, my love. If you were dull, I would not want to spend every waking moment of my life with you. I would not have married you if you were not perfect for me in every single way." He whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"But I... I do this so often. I get so... so anxious. I am hardly a Viscounte-" You start but he cuts you off. "You are the perfect Viscountess. Y/N," He begins, pulling back a bit so he can look at you. "I do not say that lightly. I know that it has only been a short six months since we were wed, but I am more secure in my belief that you will be the perfect Viscountess. The perfect mother, the perfect head of my house. You are the perfect woman for me and for my family. Do not doubt that ever. Especially over some silly statement a foolish, sad woman made." He says, caressing your cheeks.

Your eyes burn at his speech, and your heart flutters. You lean in and press a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away. "I love you so very much, Anthony." You whisper.

He grins, and you swear you see the faintest of pinks spread over his cheeks. "And I love you, Viscountess Bridgerton." He whispers, pressing another kiss to your lips. "Let us go home. Lady Danbury will not miss our company I'm sure." He hums as he parts, making you nod in response.

That is just what the two of you do. After saying goodbye to his family, and to Lady Danbury, the two of you make your way to the carriage.

The rest of the night is spent in bed, speaking of the future, whispering love confessions in each other's ears, and loads of kisses. Who knew that a man who seems so brutish could be so gentle just for you?

#bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x female reader #fluff #cutie pie anthony #bridgerton

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sarahisslytherin · 2 months

Text

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁.

summary: you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity. contains: benedict being fucking adorable, fluff n’ angst! a/n: first part of this multi-chapter fic.

It was a day like any other. You woke to the humming of the maid, the hum-drum of life about the house. You rubbed sleep from your eyes as you reluctantly got out of bed. You selected your gown for the day after scouring through your wardrobe of various shades of pastel. You bid good morning to the servants as you made your way downstairs and joined your family for breakfast. There your mother urgently reminded you (as if you had forgotten from one day to the next) the importance that you find yourself a suitor, someone of good rank.

But you barely had any mind to pay her; for it was elsewhere, with another. You cut your breakfast short, unable to bear any more talk of suitors and marriage and a life without love. You were buttoning your coat when an angel descended the staircase. Well, it wasn’t truly an angel; only your lady’s maid, but the letter she held in her hand couldn’t have been any more sacred to you. She passed it to you and your eyes met hers, the looks you exchanged almost like those of two best friends trading gossip, or in this case, your own little secret.

You slipped the sealed envelope into your coat pocket before finally stepping out the door and down the front steps. Outside, London was alive and full of the colors of spring. Though you could’ve walked the streets for hours on end, you opted to head straight to the park and sat down on the nearest bench. You sifted through your pocket, pulling the envelope out. You couldn’t help noting that it smelled of lavender and cinnamon as you gently broke the seal. There, the words you had been waiting anxiously to read.

Dearest,

I dreamt of you last night. I dreamt of those eyes so deep I was tempted to swim in them. Of that laugh so melodious I was tempted to turn it into a symphony. Of the lips so sweet I was tempted to kiss them. Alas, I know not if I shall ever reveal myself to you. I know you must be dying to figure me out. But you must understand I couldn’t bear to be rejected by you. You drive me mad! When I am awake, you occupy my every thought, and when I sleep you visit me in dreams! I am a tormented man, but oh, how smitten I am with my torment! I clutch it to my chest and carry it with me wherever I go. How could I not? When it was you who gave it to me. Such a state of delirium is the one you have driven me to, simply by existing. Anyway, all this to say that I love you and always will. Write to me, my love. I’ll be waiting.

You pressed the piece of paper to your heart, beating faster than ever. You folded the letter back and let it fall into your pocket once more before starting for the Bridgerton house. It took every fiber in you to go on with this written affair for months on end without uttering a word to your good friend Daphne. But you felt it was something too precious, too fragile to speak of; like a creature as easily spooked as it is beautiful.

This was what you repeated to yourself in your mind when you arrived at the Bridgertons’, and Daphne swore you had a glow about you only people in love wear.

“Come now, who is it?” she teased as she delicately sipped her tea. “You must tell me!”

You shook your head with a playful roll of your eyes. “There truly is nothing to tell, Daph. You must believe me.”

“Nonsense!” she poked on. “I wish to know the lucky gentleman who has you so obviously smitten.” It was then that the others entered the parlor. Anthony, with Kate on his arm, and Colin and Benedict following suit. “Fill us in on today’s gossip, sister.” jested Benedict as he lounged on the nearest chaise with his usual happy-go-lucky air. How handsome he looked today, his jet black hair shiny as ever, his grey eyes twinkling with mischief.

“There’s nothing to share, you busybody.” Daphne scolded him lightly. “Mind your own affairs.” At this, Benedict shot you a cheeky look, one you couldn’t help but return. You wondered if your secret admirer was as handsome as he was, as sweet and boyish.

“Oh!” Daphne exclaimed suddenly. “I forgot to tell you! We are holding a ball this weekend! Isn’t that exciting?” You felt yourself light up at the news. Exciting indeed. Many things can happen at a ball, dances shared and souls intertwined, and perhaps a certain identity revealed.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton oneshot

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

Note

hii! Could you write something with Aemond x reader? Reader goes to Kings Landing with her family because her sister is betrothed to him but he ends up falling for the reader instead? Her sister fight with her and he defends her.

The Other Sister ~ Aemond x Reader

note: I love this request it really reminded me of Bridgerton season 2 and I'm such a sucker for Kate and Anthony (as I bet you can guess 😂). Hope you enjoy this! 💚 word count: 1.4k warnings: none really, some angst, language masterlist

“Introducing my daughter, Lady (Y/S/N), and her sister, Lady (Y/N),” your mother said, announcing your arrival at court. You stood before the Iron throne with your sister. You gave her an encouraging smile as curtseyed first, shaking like a leaf.

You curtseyed next, eyes drifting towards the floor. Your sister was betrothed to the second son of King Viserys, Prince Aemond Targaryen. The prince stood now next to his mother and siblings, while his father sat atop the throne.

The prince has a harsh face, handsome but seems as though cut from marble. He wears a patch over his left eye, and the deep scar that slashes through the left side of his face is hidden mostly. He catches your eye as you watch him.

Your sister is so gentle, she is so kind. Here she presents herself, a flower blooming towards the heat of the sun. Towards the promise of safety and nurture. Can this prince provide all your sister's needs?

You look towards her again, and though she is your elder, you cannot help but feel a protectiveness come over you. She smiles softly at her betrothed, a shy maiden presenting herself before a Valyrian god.

He walks over to her, passing you. You can smell the scent of smoke, the tang fills your senses making your mouth water. Prince Aemond holds his hand out to your sister; his palm engulfs her small hand as he places a kiss on the back of it. Your sister lets out a nervous breath, looking towards you for approval. You give her a small smile and look towards the prince. His violet eye gazes back, neither of you looking away.

A feast is held to celebrate the union. As Aemond and your sister sit at the head table, you still feel unsure about the match. When the dancing begins your sister approaches you.

“You must talk with him,” she commands in a hushed whisper. You scrunch your nose.

“Why?”

“You have been glaring at him since we arrived,” she hisses, “he shall think you hate him. And you cannot hate my husband. It simply will not do.”

You sigh, but decide to appease her. Besides, you want to make sure his intentions are good.

Aemond stands by himself next to a pillar, holding a goblet of wine in his long fingers. He watches you approach from across the room, bringing the cup to his lips, never letting his eye leave yours.

“Prince Aemond,” you greet, and he nods, acknowledging you.

“Lady (Y/N), such a pleasure to converse with my future kin,” he murmurs. A beat goes by.

“May I speak plainly, my prince?” you ask.

“I would hope so,” Aemond tells you, nodding his permission.

“I only wish to ensure my sister will have a happy marriage to you.”

“She shall be marrying a prince, what more happiness should she acquire?’

“My sister desires a love match.”

“Hm”

“I understand you have only just met her,” you continue, “but I encourage you to get to know her, she is a kind and gentle soul. She shall be easy to love.”

“What about you?”

You freeze, bringing your eyes to his face. Aemond’s violet eye is watching you carefully, the other obscured by his eyepatch.

“What about me?” you ask, confused at his question.

“Are you easy to love?”

You feel your heart skip a beat, as you wet your lips.

“I am not betrothed, my prince,” you tell him, earning a low hum from the Targaryen prince.

“That is not what I asked.”

You hold his gaze, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

“I think this conversation is rather inappropriate. I only wish to see my sister cared for.”

“I have told you she shall be. A princess wants for little,” he says, waving off your concerns.

“She shall want affections of your heart.”

“And if I cannot give her that kindness?” he challenges.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

“Then do not marry her.”

“You speak so freely, Lady (Y/N). You would wish I break my word, rather than marry your sister whom I do not love, nor do I know if I am capable of such a thing.”

This causes your brow to furrow.

“Not capable of love?” you question and he nods, “That seems unlikely.”

A curious expression appears on Aemond’s face.

“Why do you say that?”

“I have seen you with your sister, with your mother. I think you love very truly, my prince.”

“But not her,” he says, referring to your sister. Your gaze lands on her across the room, as she is engaged in a dance with some lord. She smiles blissfully, unaware of the conversation you have with her betrothed.

“No, not her,” you agree, though it saddens you.

“There is little I can do.”

“Then do what you can.”

You leave it at that. Aemond is flustered by your boldness, and the ease you had whilst calling him out. His eye rakes over you, taking in your confident stance, the crease between your brows as you look upon him without fear.

You hope the prince cannot hear your heartbeat quickening in your chest at the intensity of his gaze. You can feel a flush creeping up your chest, your neck, and onto your face.

Aemond’s mouth curls into a smirk.

“I shall try, m’lady,” he tells you, nodding before leaving you.

The rest of your visit does not go as planned. Aemond seems to seek out your company more so than that of your sister’s. Not that she notices at first, she is simply thrilled you seem to be getting along.

It isn’t until one night, Aemond corners you during a dance. You have no choice but to engage with him as the music begins once more.

“You must stop this,” you hissed as he moved around you in the dance, arms barely touching yours.

“I do not know what you mean,” he tells you.

“This flirtation, it has gone far enough. You are to marry my sister.”

“I wish to marry you.”

Your head whips around to look at him.

“I want you,” he repeats, his voice a dark whisper. His hand strokes a path up your arm.

“I want to marry you, I want to fill you with my seed and watch you bear my children,” his voice is raw with emotion as your lips part.

Aemond pulls you closer by your waist, eye falling to your lip.

“What do you wish?” he asks, face close to yours. You look down at the perfect shape of his lips, and feel your body relax into his touch.

“You.”

Aemond’s hand grabs the side of your face, causing a gasp to slip through your lips. Remembering where you are you pull away, eyes searching desperately for your sister. You spot her across the room, eyes wide watching you.

“Sister,” you whisper as she leaves the room, her skirts a whirl behind her. You desperately chase after her.

“Sister please!” you call and she turns on her heel, slapping you hard across the face.

“How could you?” she yells, as you bring a hand to your stinging cheek. Your sister’s eyes are full of angry tears that threaten to spill over.

“I am so sorry.”

“Sorry?” she laughs, an angry, unnatural sound, “do you love him?”

You feel a tear fall down your cheek, a cool path. She scoffs at you.

“Does he love you?” she asks.

“Yes,” Aemond’s voice calls from behind you. Your sister’s gaze falls on him. Her expression is bitter, angry, and above all, hurt.

“I am sorry, Lady Y/S/N,” he says earnestly, taking your hand from your cheek to inspect the mark. Aemond’s lip curls at the sight of you injured.

“How could you?” your sister hisses, “both of you?”

“The gods fashion us for love,” Aemond quips back at her, “who are we to question what they desire of us?”

Your sister stares him down, and to your surprise, Aemond looks away first. Gone is the shy maiden who met him the day the betrothal was announced. In her place stands fury incarnate.

“Well,” your sister says, “I hope you are happy together.” She continues to leave.

“Sister, please,” you cry.

“Do not follow me,” she says, looking back at you both one final time. You turn to Aemond, burying your face in his chest as he soothes you.

“This is wrong,” you said, “we are terrible people.”

“Love is not wrong,” he murmurs, placing a kiss on your head.

“Then why does it cause so much pain?” you ask, squeezing your eyes shut.

“The gods are mysterious, indeed,” Aemond answers as he holds you through your sobs.

#aemond fic #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond oneshot #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond angst #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fic #aemond imagine

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fayes-fics · 6 months

Text

It Had To Be You: Chapter 9 - Nobody Else Gave Me A Thrill

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: You two finally figure it all out on New Year's Eve...

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: none, really… just some swearing and love confessions.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. Here we are; this is the final chapter! Both reader and Benedict finally see the truth. There will be a short, hopefully humourous epilogue to this story as well, which I will post tomorrow. Thanks to @colettebronte for betaing. I hope you have all enjoyed this fic <3

For the next few weeks, the dreary weather, the clocks changing, and the chilly nights drawing in match your sullen mood. Your argument with Benedict at the wedding made you so sad but resolute to try and put it behind you.

It's the last weekend in November when you are buying a Christmas tree that you feel the worst. Making a mess of dragging the tree back to your place alone, leaving a trail of needles behind you, you stop halfway and slump onto a doorstep. Recalling with perfect clarity how you and Benedict had bought one together from the same man the previous year, laughing carefree as you easily carried it between you. Then you drank mulled wine as you haphazardly threw on lights and ornaments, dancing to cheesy Christmas songs. It's what you miss the most—his companionship, the ease of time spent with one of your favourite people.

Just as you are wrestling the tree through your front door, exhausted, sweaty and prickled by a thousand tiny shitty needles that seem to have it out for you, your phone pings with a message.

BB: I'm sorry for how things ended at the wedding. I've been thinking about it for weeks now. Please call me. I want to talk.

Pride (and your current disastrous had-a-fight-with-a-tree-and-lost appearance) stops you from doing what you genuinely want to—picking up your phone and Facetiming him to sort it all out.

Not ready yet.

Two weeks later, it's mid-December, and you are sitting cross-legged on your living room floor with a big glass of wine, wrapping presents for friends, when your phone pings again. For a while now, almost every day, he has been sending links to Insta posts with adorable and hilarious content. Each of which you have enjoyed but couldn't bring yourself to reply to. This time, it’s a message.

BB: If you are available at the moment, please call me.

You stare at the little pop-up notification and take a gulp, a weird weight in your chest at the idea you might cave this time. Perhaps. Once you are done wrapping this gift. A few minutes later, your phone pings again.

BB: Okay, I assume no call means:

BB: (A) you can't take a call right now

BB: (B) you can, but you don't want to talk to me or

BB: (C) you desperately do want to talk to me but are trapped under something heavy

BB: If it's A or C, please call me back later, doesn't matter what time

BB: Also, if it’s C, please call 999 if you are in danger, then call me after. I don't have any heavy-lifting equipment…

You can't help but giggle at his gentle, silly humour, attempting to diffuse the tension. A large part of you wants to call; you even have the phone in your hand, but at the last minute, you rest it against your forehead with a sigh, something stopping you. Your stupid rebound fling being the biggest one, Benedict’s cutting remark about how quickly you let someone else into your bed, making your stomach roil.

Still not ready yet.

—

“Obviously, she doesn't want to speak to me,” Benedict laments, his words muffled into a scatter cushion on Kate and Anthony’s sofa.

It's the morning after they've returned from honeymoon, three days before Christmas. While they are thankful Benedict popped over with some basics to make breakfast, they could do without his melancholy—they’re much more about a ‘let’s have newlywed sex on the kitchen table’ vibe.

“What do I have to do? Get hit over the head? Be in some calamitous accident?” Benedict whines, twisting his head in aggravation as if trying to burrow himself head-first into the furniture.

‘What do we do?’ Anthony mouths to Kate, who throws her hands up defeatedly.

‘How should I know?’ she mouths back, frowning. ‘He's your brother.’

‘Your friend's fault,’ Anthony shoots back.

Kate crosses her arms and gets a look like a sour lemon, and he instantly regrets that line.

Benedict lifts his head to look up at them, and she has to stifle a giggle behind her hand at the deep red imprint of the cushion zipper on his forehead.

“If she wants to talk to me. She will call me back, right? I'm done with making an idiot of myself….” Benedict claims boldly.

You are sitting on the sofa at your childhood home early evening on Christmas Day, almost disgustingly full of Baileys (your mum's tipple of choice on this day) and Christmas pud, watching The Wrong Trousers - a family tradition - when your phone pings with a message.

It's from Benedict and your stomach vaults. You honestly thought after more than a week of silence, he had given up trying. And part of you was so sad. There is no text this time, just a video attachment. You excuse yourself to the downstairs cloakroom, taking a seat on the closed lid of the toilet, intrigued as to what it is.

The video starts with him looking directly into the camera, his handsome face filling the frame and making your stomach swoop again. Fuck, you have missed seeing it.

“Merry Christmas y/n. I hope you are having a nice time. I miss you, and I hate how we left things,” he opens honestly, “and when Bridgertons don't know what to do, we always act stupidly. It's our ‘thing’. So here, You can blame this on my genetics...”

The video cuts to black briefly and then fades into him, a huge 6ft lump, crowded behind a plastic toy piano on the floor, probably one of Daphne’s kids' toys. You instantly giggle at the ridiculous visual as he apes a maestro, closes his eyes as if about to play Chopin, and flexes his hands. Then, the tinny, electric sound of some familiar notes being played hesitantly begins. He isn't exactly a natural pianist.

“Hey, I didn't just meet you, And this is crazy,

You know my number, So call me maybe,

It's hard to feel right without you, lady

You know my number, so call me, maybe…”

You are instantly laughing. He's such an adorable, charming idiot. Sitting behind a miniature plastic piano and playing, half in earnest, half in jest. At least his voice can hold a semi-decent tune. It brings an affectionate mist to your eyes even as it continues…

“Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad

I missed you so bad; I missed you so, so bad

Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad

And you should know that, I miss you now… so, so bad….”

For the last few words, he slows down the song and looks directly down the lens pointedly.

Something in his pleading look is the straw that breaks the camel's back proverbially, and with a slight tremor in your hand, you scroll to his name and hit the FaceTime button before you can think twice about it. The sound of the tone, as it rings, feels so loud, and each crisp ‘bringggg’ makes your nerves jangle. Just as you are about to hang up, the call connects.

“I'm sorry it took me so long to answer. I had to find a private spot.” he sounds a little winded.

“Where are you?” you frown, an unfamiliar background behind him.

“My childhood bedroom. Aubrey Hall.”

“Oh my god! Show me!” You enthuse, your initial equivocation derailed by nosiness, which you decide to frame instead in your mind as mere curiosity. You never got to see it the wedding weekend for, well, reasons you don't want to dwell on right now.

He quickly flips the camera around, giving you an audio-guided tour of the room he grew up in. Dark blue walls with framed posters for his beloved Blur alongside Travis, Radiohead and Shaun of the Dead. Silly stick-on glow-in-the-dark stars on the high ceiling that are likely too high for anyone to bother getting out a ladder and peeling off. Shelves with little wooden car models he made with his dad before he died, mixed in with certificates of achievement from school, shiny brass archery trophies, and his early sketches in those cheap snap-in frames. And lastly, a collection of jagged small rocks and colourful pebbles. It makes you feel so very affectionate for little teenage Benedict.

“You are bloody adorable!” you blurt out, almost forgetting all the awkwardness from the past few weeks.

The camera flips around, and his lopsided grin fills the screen. “Thank you. I try to make a habit of it…”

You smile back and then sigh. “I’ve missed this,” you confess quietly, wistfully.

“I’ve missed this too. You. Us. Can we please be friends again? Please? I know we both have a lot of things to talk about. With that night and all… but… can we reset? I need you, Bluey. I am miserable without my best friend,” he pouts, his raw honesty making your chest ache.

It’s exactly how you feel, too. Except with a massive pang of regret that he seems to want to forget your magical night together. Sex is never like that, at least not for you—electric and addictive. Doing a reset to save your friendship feels like the most logical step. Still, it doesn’t stop the “what if” fantasies running in your head with increasing frequency, especially on a day like today—nostalgia, sentiment and overindulgence swirling in your being.

“I would like us to be friends again,” you exhale, a lie by slight omission, drumming your fingertips on your cheek nervously to stop you from saying more.

“Wonderful! Then it is so! I can’t wait to see you again! Are you going to the New Year's party? The one Simon & Daph are hosting at the Sky Terrace? Cos if you are, I was wondering, if you don’t have a date if we could go together? We always said we would be each other's plus one if neither of us is with anyone…”

That he wants to completely reset to that world makes your heart crack. You want to scream at him, ‘No! I want to be your real date! Pick me, for real, this time!’

“I… can’t do that,” you waver, and it comes off sounding tired.

“You have a date?” It’s soft, hesitant, trepidatious.

“No…” you admit, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to go together like that. I… I can’t be your consolation prize anymore, Benedict,” you blurt out, the hurt taking over your tongue.

The look of stunned surprise on his face makes it worse. As if he had never even seen it from that perspective.

“That’s not what I….” he begins but is interrupted by a loud door bang as it slams into the wall and a yelling voice.

“Stop fucking hiding and get your bloody arse back downstairs. You can’t miss family dinner on Christmas Day!” Colin scolds loudly offscreen.

“I’ve got to go…,” he sighs reluctantly as an arm manhandles him up and off the bed. “Merry Christmas,” he adds, belatedly realising you both forgot to say it earlier on the call.

“Whoever it is, hang up. No one is more important than family on Christmas,” Colin gripes. “That’s it, I’m taking your phone…”.

The screen is filled with random shapes and loud noises as they seem to wrestle like children. And then the call suddenly disconnects.

You sigh and tip sideways against the cold tile of your parents' cloakroom wall.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

Benedict takes stock of his surroundings. December 31st, 11:00pm, lying on his stomach on his sectional chaise, staring up at the big flatscreen on his wall.

This isn't so bad… he tries to convince himself. I've got Jools Holland’s Hootenanny - the only decent New Year's programme, some Glenfiddich and Mini Cheddars - the best snack there is…

He sighs and realises how pathetic he sounds, even in his own mind, alone in an empty flat.

The man whirls you around, and you are almost thrown straight into Kate and Anthony.

“I should never have let you drag me to this,” you grouse so only they can hear.

They both shoot you an apologetic look until you are whipped away again. This man’s dancing style is more akin to a waltzer amusement ride than anything sensual or fun. Your shoulder is already aching. It's a far cry from the surprising salsa Benedict pulled out of the bag last New Year’s Eve. And the idle thought of him has you spiralling…

“Mind if we stop?” you puff as the band finishes the song with a flourish. He’s some slick European investment banking type, and really, you couldn't give two shits about offending him, merely your ingrained politeness kicking in.

He nods and goes off to grab drinks as you stand, hands on hips, trying to gather your breath as you watch all the people moving like a mass of limbs on the crowded dancefloor as the following number begins.

Why the fuck am I here?

This is much better… Benedict rationalises to himself as he wanders down the rainy, empty East London streets not far from his Hoxton pad. Who needs to be at a big, crowded party pretending to have a good time?

He pauses outside a trendy shop on Old St, selling overpriced crap that he's not even sure what it is.

See? I can do some window shopping. He tells himself silently—clutching at anything to distract himself from the creeping sense of dread in his gut. A slow twisting knife as he thinks about you dancing the night away, ringing in the New Year with some fancy, handsome man who definitely doesn't deserve you.

What does it matter to me? We are just friends. Best friends… the only friend I ever want to see every day… the only one who truly matters….

He has thought about how to repair the damage between you so much over the last few weeks that he's exhausted himself. Really, he just wants you back. All of you, ideally, but being realistic, any part of yourself you will let back into his life. The suggestion of a reset he made on Christmas Day being his cowardly way out.

—

You are fake laughing at the banker’s story as you lean around the pillar you are backing yourself against in an attempt to secure more personal space. Glad of the heated lamps and the glass overhang to shelter from the drizzle.

“I'm going home,” you growl.

“You’ll never find an Uber,” Kate points out deadpan as you turn back around and keep faking amusement.

Just as his thoughts spiral, Benedict hears a chuckle on the other side of the road. There, a couple are laughing together, wrapped in each other's arms, kissing, looking like no one else in the world matters… and it’s like a lightning rod hits him square in the chest.

Suddenly, all he can see are images of you, fluttering like motioned-filled playing cards from above, swirling into his eyeline, then floating onto the glistening pavement around him. Vignettes of his life and where you intersect at so many pivotal moments. The day he left uni - the car ride where you bickered like an old married couple, the day he moved to Paris - your dilated pupils and hitched breath on the Eurostar when he whispered in your ear, the unerring sympathy when you heard about his divorce, the way you held his hand when you wandered after dinner somewhere (he doesn't even recall where… only that it was with you), watching movies together on FaceTime, your incredulity when he confessed to his uneventful recurring sex dream, your surprise and, yes, arousal as he led you in the salsa dance, the way you tucked so neatly into his arms haunting him. And finally, how it felt to be buried inside your gorgeous body as you clung to him, calling his name like a siren song, intimacy like he has never known, the profundity of the connection petrifying the very life out of him.

But as he stares down at his tatty old Converse, the same ones he wore the day you met, in fact, all he sees in the puddle beneath him is the simple truth he has been in denial about, possibly for a decade or more. Rippling refractions of your face - your knowing smile, bright eyes, your wonderful, happy expression…

And before his brain acknowledges it, his feet are moving….

Walking fast…

Then it’s a jog…

Then it’s a run….

.. his feet carrying him to the one place he knows with every fibre of his being he wants to be.

—

You wander as if in a daze, seemingly surrounded by nothing but couples, kissing, dancing, whispering, and it's the final straw. You spy Kate and Anthony sipping champagne together and slope over.

“I'm going,” you sigh.

“But it's almost midnight,” Anthony protests.

“Being surrounded by people kissing is just…” you shrug, melancholy creeping in like a clingy fog around your heart.

“I’ll kiss you,” Kate placates, and Anthony perks up to no end at that suggestion, nodding enthusiastically as you both roll your eyes, bemused. “Stay? Please?” she pleads, pouting and grabbing your hands.

“Thanks, Kate. But no. I have to go. Have a wonderful night,” you bid them, kissing her gently on the cheek. “Happy New Year,” you whisper as she returns the greeting.

Benedict's lungs are burning as he races down Old St towards Shoreditch, not far from where you celebrated last year. He ignores the ache in his muscles and keeps going, checking his watch to see 11:56pm and racing harder.

I need to be there at midnight!

As you walk to pick up your coat, a sight makes your heart leap into your mouth and stops you dead in your tracks.

There, rounding the top stair, casual in old faded jeans, those ancient Converse and a chunky knit jumper… is Benedict. Hair fluffy and dishevelled from the rain, out of breath and scanning the crowd desperately. As if he is seeking someone.

Then his eyes finally land on you, and your world tilts.

Oh god, is he here… for… me?!?

Then he is striding purposefully towards you, and it seems like the crowds part. His eyes blisteringly intense, like they were on that fateful night. You try to school your face, aiming for casual indignance; you probably fail spectacularly— your heart thumping wildly.

“I've been doing a lot of thinking…” he begins as he pulls up before you. “And the thing is… I love you..”

Everything grinds to a halt, and your head feels dizzy.

This must be a prank, surely?

“What?” you stutter, disbelief rocking your core.

“I love you,” he says with a simple shrug as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ben.. I… what do you expect me to say?” you blurt out, floored.

“How about you love me too,” he smiles a tiny fraction, and you hate it.

You hate how RIGHT he is. Your body is a total jumble of live wires, but your mind is suddenly calm. It's like the clouds of your thoughts part, and it all seems crystal clear. And yet, something in your stubborn heart won't let you admit it. Terrified what it could mean to voice it.

“Look, Ben, I know it's New Year, and I know you may be lonely tonight. But please don't do this,” you implore haltingly, tears prickling hot in the corners of your eyes, “...not like this,” you whisper, defeated.

“Okay, how about like this….” he throws his hands up. “I love that you won't admit you love me. I love that you are looking at me like you want to kill me right now. I love that my body is screaming at me cos I ran here as fast as I could.” he gestures down at his slightly shaky legs.

“Ten seconds to New Year's!!” a loud voice blares out over the speakers.

“TEN!!” the crowd chants.

“I love that we are idiots who would never admit to how in love we are.”

“NINE!”

“I love that you are my blue lobster, rare and beautiful as a diamond but a delicious soft treat under that hard as nails shell….”

“EIGHT!”

He tilts your chin to look up at him, a thumb swiping a tear you didn't even know had escaped.

“SEVEN!”

“Don't leave me out here in the wind, y/n…,” he murmurs softly.

“SIX!”

“I… I love that you never give up,” you whisper so quietly even you can barely hear it.

The smile that lights up Benedict’s face makes your whole being feel like the stars live inside your chest.

“FIVE!”

“I love that you take homemade salads on a road trip,” he smirks playfully, referring to the first day you spent together all those years ago.

“FOUR!”

“I love that you kept your amazing dance prowess under wraps,” you laugh over a stilted snuffle, everything in you fizzling.

“THREE!”

“I love that I can still smell you on my clothes after we spend the day together,” he sighs, moving in closer, your eyes hypnotised by the movement of his cupid’s bow.

“TWO!”

“I love that you came here tonight,” you admit, your hands circling his forearms as you sway slightly in unison.

“ONE!”

“I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night,” he confesses, his lips ghosting over yours now, smiling crookedly even as he speaks.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!” the crowd chants.

All around you, party poppers go off, colourful ribbons of streamers, and the sound of glasses clinking fills the air. But it’s background noise, your whole focus on each other.

Finally, your lips meet, the fireworks under your ribs matching those in the skies above, the same as it was that first time weeks ago. You melt into each other's embrace, your kiss a seal of a pact and the promise of something new and infinite.

“For the record,” he rumbles, his minty breath hot on your lips, the strains of Auld Lang Syne ringing around the rooftop. “I'm not saying this because I’m lonely and not because it’s the New Year. I came here tonight because when you finally realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start…”

“...as soon as possible,” you exhale, completing his sentence with him as he nods, grinning from ear to ear.

The drunken chorus around you gets louder; he chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ve never understood this stupid song.”

“I think it’s about remembering not to forget. Or not forgetting to remember. Or something,” you peal a laugh, knowing you are talking gibberish and not giving a damn. “Anyway, it’s about old friends,” you add pointedly, moving in for another spine-tingling, heart-melting kiss.

As you part, he cradles your jaw in his hands. “It was only ever you, y/n,” he sighs, hazy eyes burning into yours, his whisper fervent but contented into your skin. “It had to be you.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #it had to be you fic

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thekatebridgerton · 8 months

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Today on another episode of stories I'm too sleep deprived to write: past life reincarnation au. But it's just a universe where the Bridgertons fall in love but they never quite get their happy endings

Daphne saw a betrayed Simon chose to willingly get shot by Anthony and leave England in shame rather than marry her.

Anthony married Edwina and lived to know Kate died of a horseback riding accident shortly after the wedding

Benedict was rejected by Sophie, who chose to take the next ship to America instead of accepting his offer to be his mistress

Colin discovering her secret scared Penelope enough she vanished from his life without a trace.

Francesca never saw Michael again after he confessed he loved her.

And Eloise never took a chance on Sir Phillip, once she found out that he had children, she went back home with her brothers and tried to live her spinster life. Reason for which, he simply married another lady soon after his mourning period was over.

Hyacinth fell in love with Gareth, who chose to marry the next heiress he met rather than indulge her in her adventures

And Gregory was too slow and too late to Lucy's wedding. Knowing he was most likely the father of her and Haselby's only child

So, what happens when all your life you live to regret one mistake that cost you the love of your life. Wondering if you could have done anything different, then maybe you could have been happy.

And then a freak accident happens in Aubrey Hall and all the Bridgertons wake up on the morning of Daphne's debut.

Gregory and Hyacinth, rightfully horrified at having to go trough puberty again. Just want to see where young Gareth and Lucy are holed up and bring them to London, so at least growing up for a second time will be less terrible.

While Anthony is plotting exactly how to begin courting Kate Sharma despite knowing his disastrous marriage to Edwina left him jaded and broken in the romance department. And that he never got over Kate's death

Daphne has to tread the thin line between flirting with Simon and spooking him into running from her. Without resorting to a fake engagement

Benedict has the dubious mission of catching Sophie without tarnishing her reputation knowing she's wily enough to slip away from his grasp with whatever method he chooses. Even if he offered marriage, he would still need to take her out of Araminta's grasp and earn her trust. And his lady in silver is stubborn enough to resist him

Colin has to get close to Penelope without letting her find out he knows her secret while at the same time officially courting her like a gentleman and protecting her from the unsavory parts of her work. At the same time that he tries to infiltrate the steadily growing network of connections she built as LW that allowed her to disappear from his life in his first lifetime

Eloise has to live with the knowledge that she is now inlove with a very married man and worry about the moral implications of visiting Marina and befriending Phillip so soon after their marriage. After all, if Eloise intervenes Marina could live, but she'd lose Phillip again

And Francesca has to figure out quick, how to choose between her two great loves. Michael and John. Both of whom she never got over. Before it's time for her debut in society

If one mistake could cost you the love of your life, what mistakes exactly would you be willing to make? Well, the Bridgertons sure are going to find out

#reincarnation au2 #one mistake au #bridgerton #polin #Kanthony #benophie #Philoise

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kennarose1108 · 8 days

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Anthony Bridgerton x Reader !CHILDHOOD ENIMES! !PART 2!

ANTHONY'S POV

Anthony's life had never been easy. His father's death and the pressure of being the man of the house so young were hard on him. But one thing was always easy...

Getting under her skin.

He loved teasing her, he loved the way she pouted, hell... He loved her.

But he knew it would never last. She hated him and she was his sister's best friend. So he buried his feelings for her and moved on with his life. The last two years it was easy since she wasn't around... He even got a fiancé... But the second he saw her... Everything came flooding back.

He was at Lady Danbury's ball when she entered. The crowd went silent and his gaze fell on what they were looking at... Her.

All the men wanted her, all the women wanted to be her.

She looked absolutely and utterly stunning. Breathtaking... Beautiful... He couldn't even name every word of how she looked in that stunning blue dress.

But then he saw the look of panic on her face and the way her body trembled... Clearly being in the spotlight was getting to her.

He was just about to go to her to save her from the torture she was going through when Lady Danbury did it before him.

His eyes never left her... While she talked and laughed with Lady Danbury... God... That smile... He wanted her, he needed her... But something snapped him back into reality. Well, more like someone.

"Anthony," Kate spoke with a smile. "Is everything alright?" She asks while wrapping her hands around his arm. He was flustered and startled at first at her sudden presence but he quickly regained composure.

"I'm fine." He murmured with a small smile. He and Kate spoke for awhile and he did his best to keep his gaze on the woman before him and not the woman across the room. But the feeling of someone staring at him caught his attention and he looked away from Kate and his eyes met yours. He felt his heart skip a beat as you two made eye contact. But quickly your gaze fell and you looked away.

But Anthony couldn't lose this chance. He looked at Kate, excused himself and explained why (not the whole truth), and walked over to her and Daphne.

He smiled widely and threw open his arms, "Sweetheart!" He called out. He chuckled softly as he saw her hiding behind his sister, Daphne. He pulls her from behind Daphne and hugs her tightly. He took in her scent, she smelled like roses...

Damn... Now every time he smelled or saw roses he was going to think of her.

She didn't hug him back, as expected, and he could hear his sister snorting behind him. Anthony pulled away and pinched her cheek like he always did, "Nice to see you again sweetheart. You look stunning. Did your mother doll you up?" He asks and she smacked his hand away.

She glared at him, "Aww. Don't pretend you didn't miss me, sweetie." He says while nudging her slightly. "Goodbye Anthony." She says before turning away. God... His name sounded so good in her mouth...

He wondered what else would be good in her mouth...

But she stopped. Her mother was coming with a creepy old man that he could tell her mother wanted to marry her off to... Yeah, there's no way he was going to let that happen.

He inched closer to her, maybe even too close for her comfort, before whispering in her ear, "Y'know... I can save you... You'll just have to accept my offer for a dance."

He heard her sigh and she turned around to him with a glare on her face, "I'm doing this to get away. Don't think you're saving me." She says while pointing at him. He chuckles, "Of course not sweetheart."

"And stop calling me that!" She says angrily and he lets out a small laugh as she takes his hand. Her hand felt so good in his, even though he couldn't feel her skin, her hand still being in his felt really good.

He pulled her along to the dance floor before shifting her off into a dance. They danced smoothly and effortlessly. It was silent for the first minute and she avoided his gaze.

"Your mother trying to sell you to that old man?" Anthony asks and she finally looks at him. "Sadly yes. But I'm not interested. I'm not interested in anyone really." She says, managing a shrug through their dancing. Before he could question her further on that she spoke again, "But I see you are. Engaged huh? I never thought I'd see the day." She says with a chuckle.

"And why's that? Thought I'd always be a bachelor for the rest of my life?" He teases, and she rolls her eyes. "No, I just never thought there would be a woman on this planet who could tolerate you long enough." He laughs a genuine laugh.

"Speaking of which, would your bride-to-be, be upset you're dancing with another woman?" She asks with a smirk, he chuckles. "No... She knows I'm hers."

That was a lie. He thought. Well, maybe not the part of Kate thinking he was hers... But in truth, his heart did not belong to Kate... It belongs to Y/N. For years, it was always hers.

"Good. I don't feel like getting into a fight tonight... Although it would make this boring evening even better." She says and the dance ends. They both stop and stare at one another, the tension palpable between the two. He saw her neck shift as she swallowed the lump in her throat before she gave him a curtsy and he gave her a bow...

"Thank you Mr Bridgerton..." She murmured while pulling herself back up and adjusting her dress. "But I can't avoid my mother any longer." She says softly and before he could say a word she brushes past him and towards her mother.

Oh... She felt it. That strange feeling. The one that he felt so many years ago that blossomed into love...

But it could never happen. Not in a million years. He knew that.

But why does his heart still yearn for her?

PART 3

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 spoilers #colin bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton spoilers #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x reader #reader x anthony bridgerton #y/n x anthony bridgerton #anthony x kate #kate bridgerton #kate x anthony #kanthony #edwina sharma #daphne bridgerton #lady danbury #fanfic #fanfiction

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newtonsheffield · 11 days

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the newest pumped up chapter makes me want an AU where Mary gets to be Anthony's coach from earlier in his career 🥲

Mmmk

An AU where Anthony is a multiple grand slam champion, he’s world number 3 right now, still at the end of his career but if Mary Sharma knows how to do one thing: It’s craft a champion.

He hasn’t seen Mary’s daughter in ages though. Not since she was about 6. And all of a sudden one day there’s an incredibly beautiful woman standing at the practice court. Maybe a little a little too young for him a there’s something familiar about her that he can’t place. But he also can’t help himself from leaning in close to her until she’s nearly pressed again the fence.

“Can I ah… help you with something? Water? Tennis lesson? Sneaky tongue fuck?”

The woman’s mouth dropped open in surprise before she smirked, “a tongue fuck would be pretty nice when we’re done here.”

“Anthony, you’ve met Kate I see. She’s agreed to fill in as your hitter today.”

And that’s when it hits him. That’s who this is. Mary’s daughter: Kate Sharma. Rising star in her own right. And honestly, he could have died.

#kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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bm-blog01 · 8 months

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My number one favourite Kate Look: The Peacock Pelisse

And now we are my number one favourite Kate look. Some managed to guess which one it was, so well done!

I have loved this look from the moment I first saw it. I think that Kate looks every inch the Viscountess (not that she doesn't any other time) in this look, and it is an iconic Kate look. Within season 2 this look was seen at the beginning of episode 5 when the Sharmas, and Anthony, met with the Queen.

The dress was previously worn by Kate on the Sharmas arrival at Aubrey Hall where it was paired with a Pashmina shawl, blue gloves and different jewellery to what we see in episode 5, and the promotional material. The dress itself is a bright teal green with a sheer blue overlay, it is relatively unadorned with the exception of some blue stripes adding interest on the bodice, and the sleeves which have a button detail from the bottom of the sleeve to the top at the shoulder, where the sleeves are slightly puffed.

What makes this look so stunning is the lighter teal green pelisse over the dress, made of velvet with peacock motifs in gold and a lighter teal colour. The pattern is detailed all over the pelisse to give a stunning look to the garment. The pelisse is held together in the front with a gold brooch inlaid with a teal coloured stone. The pattern of the gold filagree appears to reflect the pattern details on her pelisse, and lends a delicacy to the brooch.

The dress and Pelisse is paired with matching jewellery, teal gloves and a teal and black fan with a teal coloured tassel. Kate's necklace is gold filagree detail and alternating teal stones joined by a gold chain, that match with the brooch fastening her pelisse, her earrings are gold filagree and teal stone drops.

Kate's hair is in an updo, featuring her signature plaits (braids), and has some loose tendrils framing her face. She has one simple hair accessory that appears to be similar to the brooch on her pelisse, but only a half size of it.

Overall this look is one that is regal and majestic, and the dress and Pelisse can be very dramatic as Kate moves, something that was underutilised in the show, but shown to perfection in one of the promotional shorts.

It is disappointing that there is not more information about this look from the costume designer as it is such an iconic look for Kate.

Thank you all for reading about some of my favourite Kate looks, next week I will look at the top 5 of the rest. There were so many great looks for Kate in season 2 that I did find this a more difficult exercise than I thought it would be, I am looking forward to seeing her looks for season 3.

#kate sharma #bridgerton season 2 #bridgerton

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siempre-bucky · 2 years

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Vexation

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hangman vexed you. He was always there with a snide comment over comms, teasing you during training sessions and being the most annoying, egotistical man you'd ever met. The worst part? No matter how much he annoyed you, you never could manage to fall out of love with him.

wc: 3.5k

a/n: I had a really nice anon a while back say my jake and reader fic reminded them of Kate and Anthony from Bridgerton, so here we are because I couldn't get that dynamic out of my head. and am I about to see this movie for a fourth time...yea. enjoy!

Sometimes it was a pain to be the best and to be paired with the best. Jake Seresin never wasted a moment to tell you how amazing he was. You once made the comment that if he was trying to convince himself that he was good enough. His teasing increased tenfold; little comments turned to quick jabs and death-blowing taunts from the both of you.

You and Jake both had thick skin for one another. The swords of your words never cut flesh, yet you always prided yourself on the rare occasion you managed to bruise his sparking ego.

It almost didn't shock you to see Jake Seresin at the Hard Deck that night. In a sea of khaki and green flight suits, you always managed to pick him out. Because Jake Seresin and his ego were the annoying constants in your life. His green eyes felt familiar with every deployment, squadron change, and detachment but then so did his nails on the chalkboard voice and ego the size of his home state of Texas. You killed every thought that he felt like home while at sea.

Who were you to think that the man who vexed you the most wouldn't be on this mission? You fought the familiar urge to roll your eyes as he talked. Your old banter started the moment you sat at the table across from him the morning of the briefing.

"You know all about those low hard decks don't you, Widow?" He winked, recalling an incident only the two of you knew about back from flight school. You looked directly at Maverick, trying to hide the flustered expression on your face.

"You'd know that black widows stay close to their terrain, but it seems you still have your head up your ass, Lieutenant."

Your schoolhouse taunts only got worse as the first week of training progressed. The few months you had away from Hangman made you forget the annoyance he made you feel. The blood boiling sensation within your veins made you want to stab him in the throat if he opened his pretty lips just one more time. You clenched your hands around the controls of your plane so tightly that your knuckles became bloodless. He was such a jackass. He was always right there, in your comms and even blowing up your phone with stupid, witty remarks late at night when training was over.

It was worse this time with the way how irritated he made you. His sword poked at your impenetrable confidence during training. You found yourself constantly getting mad at him, bitterly calling him out during training and storming off whenever he walked in the room. The bitter 'I hate you' comments fell off your tongue more than normal and his cocky smile never faded a bit. Jake and this mission were getting to you.

“147…down,” Hondo called out as he folded his arms, sunglasses covered eyes looking down at your group on the tarmac.

Week two was starting off with a bang, your team, or lack thereof wasn’t coming together like Captain Mitchell and the Admirals had hoped. You were doing the best you could, but your focus was being invaded by the blond Texan. More than it should—more than you wanted.

Right now, it was the soft grunts that escaped his throat as he came back up, toned arms glimmering in the sun. You tried to ignore the chain of his dog tags peeking from his shirt.

“Will you shut up?” you whispered angrily as you lowered yourself, fighting back an audible wince. Jake laughed from the side of you, your eyes flickering up to Hondo as he passed by with his arms casually folded across his chest.

“You like when I make these noises, don’t lie,” he whispered in return. You two looked at one another; a signature smirk adorned his sweaty face while your scowl was scary enough to have any other man run for the hills.

“I’d rather shove a sock in your mouth.”

Jake let out a hearty laugh, his head hung backward. "Don't be that way, princess." He looked over at you and his smirk grew at the way your short nails dug into the ground. He liked this game, it was one of his favorites.

A man in a khaki suit approached Hondo, shoes clicking on the pavement. The sound stopped when he started murmuring something in his ear. The man swallowed, turning his gaze to the pilots on the ground. "Finish on your own," he ordered quickly before following the man in the uniform.

Jake found this to be a prime opportunity to get under your skin. Not like that was hard these days. He remained in a push-up position, walking on his hands and feet until he was across from you. "What the hell are you doing?" You grunt, your arms ready to give out.

The wind did you a small favor and blew the stray hairs out of your face. He looked at you then down at the ground, "You look like you're slackin' there, Widow," he taunted, his tone teasing yet strained.

"I can go as low as you, Bagman," you spat. Bob and Phoenix beside you rolled their eyes as they did their pushups. Not wanting to interfere with the my horse is bigger than your horse competition you found yourself in.

You matched him in every motion, even holding at the bottom just to get a rise out of the blond aviator. As you neared the end they got sloppy, which Jake ate up in an instant. "Come on, Widow. Make those push-ups nice and pretty for me," he chuckled as he looked at you with dark eyes.

"Fuck you," you strained. 199.

The both of you went down, locked in a bitter staring contest. Your arms were shaking, your abs were on fire. Your head was pounding yet you still managed to feel lightheaded. One more, just one more then you could rub it in his stupid face. Your eyebrows furrowed and another pained grunt passed your lips but he looked so unphased. “You can go up whenever you want,” he said. Your law clenched so tightly you thought your teeth would break. “Going on that mission with limp arms sounds like a fun challenge.”

The mission. Your eyes flew up to him, you were tired of this fucking mission because what if this would be the last time you and Jake fought tooth and nail. The last time he’d taunt you relentlessly, the last time he’d enter your space. “Get fucked,” you panted as you stood up abruptly, wiping your forehead with your arm.

You started to walk away, tightening the sleeves of your flight suit around your waist before running your head over your head. “Widow!” Jake called to you as he caught his breath, standing up and putting his hands on his hip, his weight shifted to one side. “It was just a friendly competition.”

“Friendly?” You shouted, turning around quickly, “Ha!” you feigned laughter.

Jake raised his arms as a silent ‘what the hell?’ and shook his head. “Why are you getting so mad at me? We do this shit all the time. I thought they were going to kill us back in Virginia.” You remembered when your squadron was stationed in Virginia, you and Jake were hauled off to an Admirals office like school children. Reprimanded and minorly threatened by a man double your age with a receding hairline that Jake joked about later.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his comments, “Just stop talking, Seresin,” you snapped.

“What’s your problem with me, Y/L/N? Never bothered you before.” It didn’t bother you because you two were the best…an almost guarantee to trick fate and see each other once more. You did have a problem with Jake Seresin, he was annoying and cocky and always fucking there.

“You really wanna know my problem with you, Jake?” you questioned as you marched towards him, your fists clenched tightly at your side. Your breaths were shallow with anger as you stood the distance of the fighter jet's wings away. You could see his narrowed eyes and thin lips pressed together tightly.

“Enlighten me,” he huffed out, folding his arms over his chest.

Your chest puffed out, the gears whirling in your mind to come up with the right words to describe how you felt. “You—” you began through gritted teeth, flexing your hand and bringing them up waist level, angrily curling your fingers. “—you vex me!”

He stood there a moment, watching your stiff frame, the golden light of the lowering sun creating a perfect glow on your figure, blocking out shapes on your suit. He wanted to breathe it in and commit it to memory but the words that fell from your lips stunned him. His eyebrows raised and his eyes widened in shock. “I vex you? What is this, the 1800s?” He laughed mockingly.

You stormed closer and prodded the skull on his patch with your pointer finger. “You annoy me, you frustrate me! You and your cocky attitude that you have set as your default tone of goddamn voice,” you stated bitterly. He just took it, letting you push him back as you stabbed his chest. His green eyes looked down at you with what appeared to be concern masked by his own irritation. Sure, you’ve called him out before, but it was never like this. You never carried this much rage for him. You jabbed him once more as you turned around before he could see your lip quiver.

He was about to speak but you beat him to it. “You want to know the worst part?” you managed, your head turning to the side, your eyes looking to the ground.

“I’m dying to know,” he intoned, his face filled with irritation.

You turned again to look at him. “You’re always there Jake.”

“That makes me feel a lot better,” he scoffed with a long roll of his eyes.

“Your comments and your jabs, your taunts—but you were the only one who showed up when my plane went down in Iraq.” Hangman’s face fell, a sharp jolt going through him. “And when that relative died, you sent my mom flowers. Flowers, Jake for a woman I mentioned once. You-you’re always there, Jake.”

He remembered that day. The sun was hot and you were only supposed to be air cover, the enemy fighter stayed on your tail. He blew up your engine, sending you down in a fiery heap of scrap out in the terrain for days before they found you. Jake had never been more scared for a person, he screamed at personnel for the information; pulling rank and doing whatever it took to see you.

“Y/N,” your name expelled from his lips as a whisper. He saw you weep at funerals and after your plane crashed when he saw you crying alone in your hospital bed. He never saw you cry because of him, he never wanted to make you cry.

“But no matter how often you piss me off or vex me with your presence or your attitude—it won’t make me stop loving you.”

His ears began to ring. It was like hearing the jets without ear protection: shocking, deafening. It took the blond a moment to regain his composed demeanor. Jake took a step forward, the plane blocking the sunlight so he could see you better. “Y/N,” he said softly.

“No,” you tell him, shaking your head, “No.” You weakly held up your hand, tired of fighting, tired from the push-ups. “Just leave me alone.” I can’t bear your ridicule.

Jake watched you walk away, eyes trained on your back. His heart was thundering and his mind was running a mile a minute. He desperately wanted to chase after you, push you up against the wall, and give you a piece of his mind, but he didn’t. He obeyed your wishes.

He left you alone the remainder of the week, only speaking to you in the jets through the comms, and shifted his jabs to Rooster and some of the other guys. Coyote was the first to notice, sitting behind the two of you and how you avoided each other like the plague. It was the odd privilege he had as best friend, he got to see every side of Jake.

Javy found his friend, spread out on his bed, and tossing an old weathered baseball his dad gave him. “You wanna tell me what’s up with you and Widow?” he asked bluntly, taking a seat on the chair near his desk. The blond didn’t look at him, but he knew Javy’s brown eyes were intensely staring holes into his skull.

“Told me to leave her alone, I am,” he responded dryly, simply.

Javy rolled his eyes, letting out tufts of air. “When have you ever left her alone? You call her the bane of your existence, yet you don’t leave her alone.” He smirked knowingly, he knew all about this little game the two of you had and the emotions that hid underneath the shroud.

You were the bane of his existence, you put him in a constant state of irritation. You were the only one who could make his blood run ice cold and could warm him all at once. Every thought he had was a copy of the words you told him days ago. You were always there, matching his quips and firing back deadlier remarks. There when he needed to be consoled after his kill, there when his mom was in the hospital for a routine surgery that went awry.

His face softened suddenly, the ball landing on the dark blue bedding at his side. “She told me she loved me, then asked me to leave her alone.”

Javy sighed deeply and leaned back, his lips pressed together tightly before he managed to speak again. He knew it was coming, it was only a matter of time before one of you cracked. “I don’t want to be grim here, man, but we’re shipping out in the morning and we might not come back. She deserves to know what you think of her."

"Yeah," he rumbled before becoming tight-lipped. Coyote shook his head in defeat, he slapped his knees and stood up, leaving his best friend with his thoughts.

—

The sea calmed him, the steel of the ship soothing him to a peaceful slumber. He was ready to become Maverick's right hand, flying off into the sunset with more honors and coming back with thunderous applause as he descended his plane. He thought he put you behind him, focusing on the mission at hand. He didn't look at you once when you boarded the carrier. His heart stung but it was worth it. Jake's green eyes fluttered closed that night, knowing he'd be waking up one step closer to being selected.

"Dagger 2 is down! I repeat, dagger 2 is down. I'm sorry Hangman."

"Widow's gone, man."

Jake woke up with a jolt, instantly shedding his blanket and shivering as the cold air blew on his sweat ridden bare torso. He shook his head, placing his palms over his ears. There were voices, so many voices. They were screaming at him, taunting him.

"I love you." He heard amongst them, echoey like it was from a ghost. He didn't sleep easy that night, his nerve hanging by a single line of web.

The salt air made you feel at home, you walked into the carrier with a small content smile the morning of the mission. Your fingertips glided along the metal of the jets as you walked past them. A satisfied hum coming from your throat as you read your name on the side.

You kept walking, taking in the sights and the sounds of your life at sea. You passed a few more planes, a shadowy figure stood by the railing. You knew that tall stiff frame anywhere. Taking in a deep breath of confidence, you walked over.

"Jake," you called.

The man visibly stiffened. If he acted like that just from you saying his name, you must've ruined whatever you two had. His back was turned to you, arms folded over his chest and he looked out at the water. You stepped forward again, his woodsy cologne mixing in with the smell of the ocean.

"You wanna know what I think of you?" He prompted suddenly, his low tone of voice and thick accent making you jump. Your heart sunk to your stomach. You deserved that, you know you did.

You stood beside him but he didn't look down, his green eyes fixated on the horizon in front of you. "What?" Your voice wavered like a scared child. Tell me you hate me, make this easier on my heart, you thought as you studied his jawline.

“You’re the bane of my existence, Y/N.”

Your lips were set in a deep frown; you deserved that too, he was certainly getting his fill from taking a few days off. “Don’t be mean to me,” you scoffed before you shook your head, biting down on your lower lip, exhaling deeply from your nose. “You wanna get a real knife and stab me? Be a lot more painless,” you told him sternly before you started walking away. Jake caught your arm, stopping you in your tracks. You finally caught a look at the aviator: the dark rings around his beautiful eyes were more prominent, his hair tousled from the wind and his pillow. His grip was gentle, you could slip out of it at any moment, but you didn’t want to. You missed him.

“I’m trying, Widow,” he sighed, his head lowering.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“You annoy the fuck out of me. You kick me in the balls every time I tease you, your comebacks just as strong as mine. You’re the only one that can put up with my shit in the air.” Your body softened as he spoke, turning towards him, you kept looking into his eyes. You didn’t have the heart to look away. “You’ve been a pain in my ass since the moment I met you, but I can’t imagine my life without you in it,” he spoke with fervor, a pink blush rising to his face.

“Jake?” It was your turn to be breathless, words caught in your throat other than his name. Your lip started to quiver and your eyebrows knitted together. “What does that mean, Jake?” His hand traveled up your arms, pulling you closer to him, he licked his lower lip out of habit and his eyes shyly darted from your gaze.

“I’m trying to tell you that I lo-”

“Lieutenant Seresin, Lieutenant Y/L/N… it’s time,” Warlock called, his deep voice sending you apart. He looked at you once more, you saw the fear lurking in his eyes and he saw the same fear in yours. Heat rising to your faces as you nodded, following behind him from a good distance.

“I don’t want them to pick you,” Jake whispered.

“Good to have you back, Bagman,” you giggled.

Jake huffed and looked at you, “Not because you’re a bad pilot. Jesus. Because I can’t lose you, Y/N… not now.”

You stopped in front of the door and placed your hand on his bicep, soft and delicately your fingers wrapped around him, your thumb swiping his badge. “I can’t lose you either, but you’re the best there is.” Your words stopped there, resisting the temptation to tell you loved him again, the words you swore he was going to tell you up there by the railing.

The room was quiet, eerily quiet as you stood in formation. You could feel the fear and anticipation coming from your fellow aviators as they stood at attention. The risk was something each of you knew well, but there was only one other person in that room that felt the exact same weight of the world. The heat of the room made your breaths shortened, your eyes fixed on the back of Hangman’s head. It took everything he had not to look back at you.

Names were called and the relief set in, you looked to your friends after you were dismissed. Phoenix pulled you into a tight hug, offering small sympathies. You shouldn’t have been this relieved, you knew this mission if successful would come with a promotion and another metal perhaps. Fate stepped in once again, you got another chance with Jake.

You found him, his face laced with disappointment as he brushed past you. Catching the sleeve of his flight suit, he turned around and looked down at you. “Hangman,” you start, your head motioning towards the door.

He hummed in reply as you walked side by side.

“What were you going to tell me before the briefing?”

The smell of jet fuel and other chemicals were washed away by the smell of the ocean and exhaust as you stood by his jet. He took his fingers and swiped away a stay hair, letting it rejoin the others behind your ear. “I want to tell you after it’s over, can you actually wait that long or?” he teased, the smile you missed so much returning to his features.

You giggled and nodded, slinking away from the plane. You watched as he put on his helmet and climbed up the ladder. “Jake!” you called from below.

He looked down, “What now? You know, those days of silence really helped my ears,” he joked, winking at you.

“If we do this,” you wagged your finger between the two of you, “there won’t be a day where you don’t vex me”

Jake laughed and sat in the cockpit, “I’m counting on it, sweetheart,” he told you before the canopy lowered. You flipped him off and held on to your helmet tightly before making your way to your plane, a smirk on your face.

After it was all said and done, you stood in the back and the team rejoiced with Maverick and Rooster. Leaning on the side of the plane, your arms were crossed just waiting for him to look back and find you but you let him have his moment. He loved this, but you could only imagine what the praise was going to do to his ego.

Jake shook one last hand before turning around to see you. He rushed over and took you in his arms, his hands gripping the fabric of your flight suit as if it would keep him tethered to the ground. You buried your face into his chest and let out a small sigh of relief. He held you for what felt like hours, even though it was only a few seconds. He just didn’t want to let go now that he had you, but he finally managed to pull away to cup your face. “I love you,” he said confidently, his thumbs swiping your cheek and getting rid of the shed tears “I’ve always loved you.”

“I love you too,” you grinned.

He laughed and bent down, his lips ghosting over yours, “We shouldn't be fraternizing,” he hummed with a playful look on his face.

You punched his arm before throwing your arms around his neck to pull him closer, his lips finally crashing into yours. He was safe, you were safe, holding each other close while your lips glided together. “Shut up, Bagman,” you whispered playfully as you pulled away.

“Nah, you’re stuck with me now, baby. I get to vex you all day long,” he said, his Texas accent thick as he spoke.

You rolled your eyes, “Keep kissing me,” you ordered with a loving smile.

Jake’s hands fell to your hips, bringing you in close, “Yes, ma’am.”

---

tagging my beloved @mothdruid ily

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x fem!reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin oneshot #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #hangman fanfic #top gun #top gun maverick

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nikkisheep · 9 months

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To Be Alone With You (Part Two)

Anthony Bridgerton x Sharma!reader

Series Summary: Let's see, dear readers, where this journey of betrayal, lust, passion, and love take our viscount and Miss Sharma as they find their ways back to each other.

Warnings: Angst, kinda betrayal, guilty reader, proposal, sexual tension, reader stumbles upon Edmund Bridgerton's grave, Smut (oral F)

Summary: After the night of passion that was of you and the Viscount on the dock, Anthony is hit with the realization that he still planned on marrying Edwina.

Tag list: @faatxma

"I dare ask, Brother, what has gotten you to smile so much this fine morning?" Colin asked with a smirk gracing his face.

"I just happen to be in a good mood from the lovely night of sleep that I received last night." Anthony said with yet another smile.

"Could it be that our brother is actually in love with Miss Edwina now?" Benedict teased.

Anthony looked at Benedict and his smile faded at the mention of Edwina. She is a kind girl, just not who Anthony wants. At this, the Sharma sisters hurdle down the stairs in a fit of laughter as you were carrying a bucket of water and chasing your sisters down the stairs in hopes of soaking them. Instead, you slipped on your dress and Anthony raced to catch you before you had hit the floor. The other siblings including Anthony's watched as you let go of the bucket as it soars through the air and you land in Anthony's strong arms. You look at him and go to speak but the water bucket comes crashing down on the two of you, soaking you both completely. The bucket landed on Anthony's head and all you heard was a groan.

"My lord," You say as you shyfully lift the bucket off his head and his dark eyes peek under and make eye contact with you. His hair was ruined and your lady's maids were going to be upset that their hard work went to nothing because of how wet your hair was. You give him a light smile and just as you were getting one in return, Colin cleared his throat.

"Well, Miss Sharma, I am quite impressed with your entrances that you have been making." He smiled.

"I do try," You smile and give a bit of a bow.

"Please, Lord Bridgerton, do not think that we are always like this," Kate tried to reason, hoping that he wasn't mad.

"Miss Kate, you are quite fine. Nothing to worry about. I actually enjoyed the refreshing shower," Anthony laughed, a smile reaching his eyes when he looked at you rather than your sisters. His intended.

----

Another walk in the gardens, you take in the flowers. You didn't realize how long you were in the garden and where the path was taking you. You walk under a large tree and see something that looks like a headstone. You look around and then continue on your walk to the headstone.

"Edmund Bridgerton, Loving Father and Husband," You read on the stone and figured that this had to the man that Anthony always looked up to. This was his father.

You looked down at the flowers in your hands and then bent down to your knees and placed the flowers at the grave site. You were in the middle of a prayer when you heard footsteps. You stand up quickly and then turn to the sound. It was Lady Bridgerton.

"Viscountess-" you started. She lifted a hand to shush you.

"Please call me Violet, dear." She smiled sadly when she looked at the grave.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know and I-I-I wanted to pay my respects to him," You say with a smile.

"This is Edmund. He is my husband. Well, was my husband," The older woman smiled with a sad smile.

"You loved him very much. I can tell. I wish I could have met him," You try to make her feel better.

"Have I told you yet about how much Anthony looks after this family?" She asked.

You shook your head.

"He has been there for all of us after Edmund passed. He was only 18 at the time. God, the stress that fell onto that poor boy. He was holding Edmund when he died and...and I think that was the day that my little boy died. When Edmund left, so did a piece of my son." She said with tears.

"Why are you telling me this?" You ask kindly. You thought she would be telling Edwina.

"Miss Sharma, when Anthony says that he is going to do something, he does it. He says he is going to marry your sister so I wanted you to know that she is in good hands. Anthony is the best of my sons to marry her because there is nothing more important to Anthony than his word." Violet said, taking your hand.

"Violet, he loves her?" You ask with a tremble in your voice.

"I fear so and I have seen the way you look at my son." You looked up with confusion.

"Viscountess...Violet, I'm not understanding what you are talking about. I don't look at Anthony in any way."

"I saw you in the hallway earlier today," She said with a sad smile.

"Tha....That was an accident." You sputter out.

"Darling, I'm not talking about your situation or position. I'm talking about the look in your eyes. It's exactly how I used to look at Edmund." She pat your hand and then stood up to invite you back to the house. You followed her with your heart heavy and mind clouded.

---

Dinner was prepared and you were seated to the left from Anthony who was seated at the head of the table. You couldn't keep a smile when you looked at him because you saw how your sister looked at him. Like he hung the stars in the sky. Your stomach hurt with guilt of what had transpired between you last night.

"And Miss Sharma, I was wondering if you would like to maybe be a model for my paintings," Benedict said with a hopeful look in his eyes.

You smiled at the brother and nod.

"Of course, I have always wanted to be a model and to have my face and body drawn for me," You laugh a little and Benedict smiled and then blushed at you.

Kate smirked at you as she watched you interact with Benedict. You finished your drink and stood up. You turned to leave and kissed Benedict on the cheek. You smile at Violet and she smiled back. You left the room and that made Anthony fuming. Yes, he was supposed to marry your sister but he didn't want her. He wanted you.

Anthony excused himself from the table to follow you. He ran after you and he grabbed your elbow to keep you from going all the way up the stairs.

"Follow me," He said, pulling you down the stairs to his office and closing the door behind you.

"Yes, my lord?" You ask.

"I have been looking for you all day. God...being away from you has been driving me crazy," He says before moving to kiss your shoulder that was exposed. Your head falls back in bliss as you feel his lips ghost your sensitive skin that has only been touched by him.

"My lord-"

"Anthony, darling."

"But my lord, we need to stop." You moan out the last part when he sucks hard on your sweet spot.

"Call me by my name, Miss Sharma. My name is Anthony," He growls into your ear before picking you up and laying you down on his desk, papers sticking to your sweat-layered back.

You look down to see Anthony move under your dress. You start pulling the fabric over your stomach so that you could see his hair and you smile when he kissed your hand that was pulling at the fabric.

"My lord, we should stop. You are to be...married." Your back arched as his tongue made contact to your secret area that he was just last night and you moaned out his name as he ate you like a starved man. He dipped his tongue inside of you and your hand shoots to his hair and pulls harshly and he moans against your body.

"Anthony, oh god.'' You cry out as his finger starts to poke at your entrance and you were overcome by pleasure to even think about Edwina or Kate or what the mother of the man in between your gracious legs had said when her son is tasting you like this.

"Fuck, sweet girl. You taste divine," He groans against your pussy as he pumps in a finger before adding another. Your walls clamped tightly to his fingers and his mouth moved to your clit and starts to suck at it as his tongue flicks out to run over the sensitive bud there.

You reach up and grab a hold of your own breast as he ravages you in the best way. He starts curling his fingers to hook at that sweet, sweet pleasurable spot that laid deep inside you and you felt the coil in your stomach start to tighten to a painful blissful way as he looks up at you with deep, dark eyes that were blown with lust and you let go just at his stare alone.

"Cum for me, let me feel you. That's it. Be a good girl and let go for me. Let me taste you," He moans against you as he feels you gush around his fingers and onto his awaiting tongue. He drinks everything you have to offer until you have to push him away due to the over stimulation that happens due to his constant assault to your sensitive nerves.

He kisses up your body again and fixes your dress. You lean into his kisses and he whispers about how much he loves you before he helps clean you up. You hold onto him and he carefully takes you back to your room. You sigh because you know that you have to tell him that you couldn't keep doing this because he wants to marry your sister.

"My lord," You start.

"Anthony," He says.

"My lord," You try to continue.

"Why won't you call me Anthony unless we are private like we just were?" He said with a sad look in his eyes.

"Because you are not mine, my lord." You sigh before closing the door in his face.

---

The following day, you were walking with your family as everyone was ready to leave and head back to London. You were sad but as soon as you saw Anthony walking to you, a smile crossed your face.

"My lord," You give a bow.

"Miss Sharma," You think he was talking to you but when you turn to his voice again, he was on one knee in front of your sister.

"Miss Edwina, I think this has been a long time coming and I would love to have the honor of making you my wife," Anthony said before you let out a gasp as he opened the ring box. It was his mother's. Edmund had given it to her and now he was giving it to Edwina.

Edwina gave a yes and kissed Anthony's cheek. Not knowing that his face was just between your legs last night and the night before. She will never know and you would sit in silence. You watched the happy couple and Kate hug them both and your mother was so happy. You smile to the couple and make eye contact with Anthony. All was said in those few seconds.

"I still want you."

#anthony bridgerton x sharma!reader #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x reader smut #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x reader

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darklinaforever · 24 days

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Was Anthony in love with Siena, and she with him ? (Because I've seen a lot of people ask this question, the answer to which is quite obvious...)

No. He liked her / had some forms of feelings for her / cared about her, and was used to her, but was clearly not in love with her.

Especially since their relationship was above all something very, very carnal, and not really emotional, something essential when talking about being in love. Anthony never seemed to talk to her about his personal demons in relation to his life and his family either.

Even when he sought to assure Bénédict that Siena would be taken care of if he ever died during the duel against Simon, it was more a way of honoring his word to her than out of love ; Anthony rightly attaches great importance to these things as his honor and duties.

Siena was the one thing Anthony had for himself even outside of his family. It was therefore an obvious way of escaping one's responsibilities concerning them ; Hence why when Siena finally leaves him for good, Anthony is finally ready to take charge of his role as viscount by choosing a viscountess, as has been expected of him for a while now.

According to season 2, Anthony explains that he never wanted to succumb to the blind delight of being in love, and even needs this feeling explained / described to him (by Daphné, his own little sister) that he doesn't really understand. So it's obvious that Anthony never felt true romantic love before Kate came into his life.

Jonathan Bailey, the actor of Anthony, himself once explained (at least it seems to me) that his character, before meeting Kate, had always established relationships in which he was certain that he would never fall in love with the womans involved.

Kate is described in the show as a woman unlike any other Anthony has ever met, by the latter himself, as well as as Anthony's real true love by Violet, during a scene where Anthony truly cries for the first time since the death of his father, upon learning that Kate has finally woken up from her coma.

As for Sienna, she also cared for Anthony, liked him / had some form of feelings for him, and was used to him. Quite obvious since she cries during their final separation. But she clearly wasn't in love with him either.

For what ? Because she was looking for stability, a way to secure her future life through a relationship with a man who would take care of her / provide for her needs. This is what Anthony represented above all in his eyes.

It's also very revealing that when he announces that he has to stop dating them, the first thing Siena says is that he had promised to always watch over her. Love or simple affection is not a question here.

Especially since Siena seems after a while to end up wanting the company of a man who values / prioritizes her in a general way, in addition to financial security. Especially since a man who prioritizes Siena, technically offers the latter much more certainty / security of the financial situation, which she must obviously understand / know.

Things she wants / needs, and which Siena eventually realizes, Anthony could never fully give her ; because of all his repeated empty promises in season 1, to always prioritize his family, and not take responsibility for her, without forgetting the commitment problems that Anthony seemed to have on the relational level in general (and of which we spectators, will learn the depth and the reason in season 2, the latter having always avoided romantic feelings since the death of his father).

Hence these reasons, why Siena ended up changing men at the end of season 1, without telling Anthony (which is still quite vicious for me but he is not better with her anyway), with the aim of putting him against the wall and finally stop their relationship (which was already going straight to the wall) for good.

But essentially, while Anthony primarily used Siena to escape responsibility, Siena primarily used Anthony for financial stability. Despite the few feelings they had for each other, their relationship was mainly based on a transactional exchange.

Through their primarily sexual affair, Anthony could escape his responsibilities as viscount, and Siena could achieve financial stability. In short, a relationship of toxic dependence (destined to be ephemeral on Anthony's side) has established itself between the two characters. A relationship therefore doomed to failure, and where romance did not really have its place, despite an attachment having developed between them with the time.

The answer to the initial question is therefore ; No. Anthony and Siena were not in love with each other. They certainly liked each other, were used to each other and above all dependent on each other. But not in love.

Siena left Anthony to live a better life for herself, and thanks to that, Anthony was finally able to take responsibility for his marriage. Thanks to this he was able to meet Kate, the real true love of his life, in addition to being the first to really introduce him to Love.

I can't even understand how people could believe that Anthony and Siena were in love with each other. Kate is obviously the one and only from this point of view.

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