#but all of them expect for Anthony had been able to morn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

storiesofsvu · 4 months

Text

Anthony DiNozzo NSFW Alphabet

Anthony DiNozzo x reader warnings; nsfw, sexual situations. a.n: i know some of you have been asking for this and i'm ngl, it's likely not what you expected, but these are my headcanons and what I believe. I think there's a lot of wild opinions out there about this man and we're all entitled to our own lol.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Tony’s generally pretty soft, and pretty wiped. He’ll collapse into the bed, an arm winding around you, encouraging you to nestle into his side while you catch your breath. If it’s more of a casual thing, he’ll likely get at least half dressed, sharing a glass of water with you before he drops your clothes into your lap. (or if he’s at yours, he’ll just get dressed). It’s not too much extra cuddling for the casual partners, he doesn’t want to blur those lines, even if you were already friends.

But if you’re his girlfriend, or he wants that, there’s lots of soft cuddles, his fingers tracing up and down your back, he makes sure you rehydrate, offers up a snack, leftover Thai food in bed kinda thing. A massage is likely part of the foreplay, but a nice warm bath or steamy shower is definitely an aftercare thing for him.

B = Body part (your favourite body part of theirs and theirs of yours)

You love Tony’s shoulders, they’re broad, strong, he’s in good shape and they prove it. He can pick you up and toss you around a bit when he feels like it. You’re also drawn to them after a long day, when you know he’s had a rough go and without a word you’ll wrap yourself around him from behind, holding him for a moment before you start to massage his shoulders.

For him, if it’s a sexual thing, Imma say he’s a boob man. Don’t get me wrong, he loves ass too, but there’s just something about tits that he can’t resist. Not as sexual, he loves your hands, loves the innocent way you pick up one of his hands in yours, tracing patterns, following the lines. He loves to hold you, always grabbing your hand when you’re out on the streets together.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically).

He’s normally one to use condoms, but if it’s an established relationship with another form of birth control he’s all for coming inside you, getting to fuck you bare and really feel everything. It’s primal, it’s intimate, it’s how he feels so utterly connected to you. On the more dirty side of things, he absolutely loves coming in your mouth, whether it was a blow job or after making you come and him pulling out, it drives him wild seeing it painted on your tongue/lips and cheeks while you’re looking up at him with a wild grin.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Honestly, would not put it past this man to be intrigued with pegging.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He’s got a good level of experience and certainly knows what he’s doing. Some people like to tease that he’s all talk, and if you do, he’s definitely going to show you just how wrong you are, cause he’s great at what he does and takes pride it in, especially with how many orgasms he can give you.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying) Hear me out: missionary or variants on it. He likes to see your face, watch the way it scrunches up, the way your mouth falls open in silent pleasure, watching the way your body twitches and shivers as he fucks you. Positions where he can really get his hands on you, feel your skin on his, play with your tits, have access to your clit, ones that his mouth can latch onto your body, leaving marks so you remember how good he made you feel. He loves to throw a leg or two over his shoulders, able to plunge even deeper into you. Morning sex he loves a good spooning from behind.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I think this one’s pretty obvious, I mean, it’s DiNozzo. He loves to throw a joke or two in there, especially during the foreplay, before or during the time clothing starts to come off. Before he’s completely flustered with just how hot you are, he’s constantly tossing out one liners, using accents/weird voices and the like. And there has definitely been an occasion or two where he made you laugh so hard it put a hard stall on any action happening, but to be completely honest, that just made him love you more.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

This depends on the relationship, if it’s a one night thing, or a friends with benefits, then he holds back the intimacy and keeps that mask up. If you’re someone he loves, then he can really turn it up, candles, tenderness, showing you just how much he loves and cares about you through physical affection.

J = Jack off (masturbation head canon)

Weekly at minimum, likely in the shower for easy clean up. If it’s been a long/stressful week he’s likely to self indulge, especially to help him sleep at night.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’s into the role play aspect, loves to go out pretending you’ve never met and face the “challenge” of picking up someone new, throwing in some new tricks and the like. There’s likely some more themed looks, not necessarily full blown costumes, but the aspect of getting to be someone you’re not kinda thing. He likes to make you come, so overstimulation is definitely gonna be on this list too.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Any surface in his/your apartment. Bedroom, couch, the cushioned bay window sill (at night, likely by candle light so no one can actually see in, but the risk factor still plays), bent over the kitchen counter, in the shower, you can bet you’re going to christen every surface in the place.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

To put it simple: you. Doesn’t matter if you’re dolled up with a full face of make up and your hair done, ready for a fancy date night, in a new lingerie set you bought just to torment him, or if you’re in one of his t-shirts and your faved cotton panties on a cozy, lazy Sunday, every single one of them will get him going and he can’t keep his hands off you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything with extreme bondage or any level of pain past a hand spanking. He’s seen a lot of really dark stuff in that realm while at work/on the job and a: doesn’t ever want to hurt you, or b: bring back any dark thoughts, especially while in the bedroom. He wouldn’t ever hurt you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Absolutely loves both.

You cannot tell me he doesn’t adore eating pussy and we both know that he’s fucking incredible at it. He’ll happily bury himself between your legs for as long as you’ll let him, especially if he knows you were having a bad day, he’ll eat you out for hours.

The days when you call him into the bedroom looking all seductive on your knees with that little smirk on your lips are the days he just can’t get his pants undone fast enough. He’s never one to do the “downward shove” and he’ll rarely ask for blowjobs, but fuck does he ever love it when your lips wrap around his cock and you encourage him to thrust into the back of your throat.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Bit of both. Depends on the situation, depends on if it’s a quickie or not. If there’s not a lot of time, if it’s a sneaky bathroom hook up it’s gonna be fast. If he’s about to leave for a longer case/UC case, it’s going to be slow, sensual he’s going to take all the time he can to admire every inch of your body before he has to go.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves ‘em. Sometimes you’re ready for date night and he knows he needs to have you *now* and you’re not gonna complain about him ruining your lipstick cause you know he’s gonna make it up to you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s up for experimenting, playing around with kinks and the like, but he’s not super risky. He’s got a reputation/career to think about so certain things are just out of question from the start.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man can go for round after round. He’s well aware that he might not be able to fuck you over and over again, but he can easily use his mouth, fingers, or pull out a toy to taunt you with while he recovers. And he’s never going to complain when you start to jerk him off or go down on him to help things along.

When it comes to how long he lasts, it kinda depends on the situation, how long its been, how utterly turned on he is, but he’ll always make sure you finish, multiple times.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He owns accessories; blind folds, maybe some silk ties to bind your hands together, some kind of pinwheel/pleasure wheel, while he doesn’t like lots of pain, he’s into sensation play, temperature play, things to spice things up without hurting anyone. Once he’s with someone, he’ll learn what they like, check out their collection, have a conversation about toys and likely invest in a couple that they like, he knows that a vibrator isn’t competition, it’s a helping hand in the bedroom, whether he’s there or not. And then there’s the added benefit of him getting to say “well… show me how you use it when I’m not around” and watching you get yourself off.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s not the biggest sexual tease. He likes to tease about sexual things outside of the bedroom, make little comments in front of mutual friends about your sex life (nothing that would ever offend you, they might turn your cheeks hot, but he always knows you’re okay with sharing that information). He’s also the one who will likely take bets on sports games, trivia nights and the like, and the loser owes the other head at the end of it. When it comes to actually being in the bedroom, he struggles to keep his hands off you, he’s the bratty one, so you’re likely not the one getting punished.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not overly loud, more groans and grunting, swearing, soft mutters of “god that feels good” “fuck, don’t stop” “that’s my girl…”

W = Wild card (a random head canon for the character)

He’s not afraid of subbing. While he’s pretty dominant most of the time, like I said earlier, he’s the fucking brat. And he’ll act up on purpose on nights when he knows you’re more likely to get annoyed, casting him a warning glance of “you’ll pay for this later” and it will only egg him on more. He’s never opposed to being teased and edged and loves seeing you take control in the bedroom.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I don’t think I even need to explain this. He’s thick, big enough, not huge to cause pain, but a bit larger than average.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not as intense as you would think with all of his quips and the like, he likely jerks off at least once a week, has his favourite porn sites/stars. If he’s with someone, there’s sex at least once a week if not more, and he loves a good lazy Sunday where you don’t even get out of bed, fucking all day.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Unless he’s completely wiped, he’s almost always the second person to fall asleep. He likes to know that you’re taken care of, that you’re comfortable and safe. He’ll slip out of the bed, making sure you’re warm and tucked in before getting you a full glass of water on the nightstand, that your phone is plugged in and alarms are set and ready for the next day. He’ll slip back under the covers and pull you into his arms, watching you sleep with a soft smile on his face as his fingers trace the curve of your lips, your jawline with a feather light touch before he finally falls asleep.

____________________

@fandom-princess-forevermore @cabotfan42 2 @alexxavicry @rainbowelshrhian @princessgemini98 @m00nkn1ghts @supercriminalbean @hbkswife @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @happygirl-0408 @prentiss-theorem @boimlers-gonna-boim @tinyprettyangel @happygirl-0408 @winchesterbeau

#ncis #anthony dinozzo #anthony dinozzo x reader #anthony dinozzo headcanons #tony dinozzo #tony dinozzo x reader

109 notes · View notes

arielburrow · 11 months

Note

Jealous Joe!!

Hit and Quit

smut + LSU Joe

Tiger land was once again lit up following LSU’s win over Auburn. Beer and sweat lingered throughout the air, especially in this particular bar where most of the players were. You were excited to come out and celebrate with all your friends. LSU home games were like nothing you’d ever seen, especially with this season, as they are currently undefeated.

Grabbing drinks with your friends, you all find a place to stand and attempt to talk through the blasting music. Most of them gushing over the fact that the team was across the room. Your friend Abigail grabs your hand and pulls you toward the dance floor.

“So you ever gonna tell them?” she yells over the music as you both squeeze between people. “Neh, it’s not even important. Besides, I went on a date the other night,” You smirk. “With Joe!?” Her eyes widened and you roll your eyes. “No. Not with Joe, with Anthony.” You lean in close to make sure she can hear you. “WOW, his friend? How was it? I mean i’m sure it wasn’t better than sex with Joe Burrow,” She rambles. You nudge her a bit, “It was good…I mean, definitely not my type, but we had a nice dinner together and we went out for drinks.” You shrug. “But your right, not at all better than my hookup with Joe.” You whisper loudly with a wink and she laughs.

You and Joe met a few months ago and there was always so much tension, everyone could sense it. A few weeks ago he finally made a move and you some how found yourself in Joe Burrow’s sheets the next morning, but of course, he was already gone for practice. Obviously you expected this, this was what he was know for doing all across campus, yet girls continued to flock to his apartment. For whatever the reason is, you were a little disappointed. I mean, prior to just a few weeks ago, you and Joe were actually becoming close as friends and it was kind of fun. You obviously thought he was cute, and besides the cockiness, he really was a funny, genuine guy. He hadn’t reached out to you or anything, so you decided to try to push it to the back of your mind and distract yourself with Anthony.

After a while of dancing and shots, Abby pulls you to the bathroom line which of course was practically out the door. “Okay so, do you think your mastermind plan will work?” Abby says turning to you in line. You roll your eyes at her comment, “Abby.” You shoot her a look, “for the last time, there is no “mastermind plan”, Joe just wanted a hookup and it was mutual, Anthony just happens to be a friend of Joe’s,” You finish that last part with a slight smirk that Abby doesn’t necessarily pick up on. “Oh please, It’s so obvious you have a thing for him and he clearly has a thing for you, I just wish he could swallow is ego and admit it,” she says. “No I mean i get it, you know, like it was just a hookup. But i guess i’ve just never had one like that before, there was so much connection to it, it felt different you know?” Abby just gives you a look that tells you she can see right through you. “Whatever, all I know is his eyes have been glued to you all night.” She says turning back to enter the bathroom. You smile to yourself at the thought. It’s not like you were trying to make Joe jealous, I mean he probably won’t even find out about you and Anthony.

Walking out of the hall, you pass the large table where the players were seated, you both try to pass quickly but a hand reaches out to stop you. “y/n!” Anthony smiles. “Hey!” you turn to him. Abby is also greeted by one of the guys. “How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in a minute,” He says loudly over the music. You lean down to get closer so it’s easier for you two to make conversation. “I’m really good.” you smile and continue to talk with him, oblivious of the pair of eyes staring daggers into the two of you.

More girls have found their way to the table and the whole section of the bar was a mob scene of people. You’re deep in a conversation with Anthony, leaned in very close to his face to be able to hear him when suddenly he’s interrupted, “Anthony man i don’t know what drink you ordered but i’m gonna need two more, could you go grab some?” Joe says standing next to you now. “Yeah man no problem” he responds. You watch Anthony as he gets up, careful to avoid acknowledging Joe, but that is forced to come to an end when he sits in front of you where Anthony was and pulls you forward to sit next to him.

He doesn’t say anything, just scans your face for a moment causing you to raise you’re eyebrows. “Can I help you Joe?” You smirk a little, but his face stays stoic, almost angry looking. “Didn’t know you were close with Anthony,” he says. “Yeah he’s my friend.” You say, causing a laugh out of Joe. “what?” you question. “Well, i mean, I didn’t know you went on dates and made out with your friends.” He replies sharply. “Ohhh” you reply, watching as Anthony gathers the drinks from the bar, but Joe reaches up and turns your face back towards him. You bit your lip to suppress the smile from Joes action. “I don’t get why it matters what I do or who I do it with,” You say. “Besides, Anthony’s a really cool guy, I see why you’re good friends with him.” You smile as you take a sip of your drink. “I’m not really good friends with him, I just think it’s stupid that you have to go after my friends cause you’re mad.” he says loudly over the music. You shoot him a look, “I’m not mad Joe, I don’t care that you wanted to hit and quit, so stop being a little bitch and acting like you care what I do with your friends.” You put your glass down and stand up to meet Anthony half way as he brings back the drinks.

After placing them down, the guys all scamper to grab one, but Joe remains in his position, staring at you as you grab Anthony’s hand. You pull him to the dance floor and see Abby shoots you a look that told you she knew exactly what you were doing. The two of you get lost in the large crowd, his hands all over you in an instant. The loud music, the crowd, Anthony’s hands, the thought of Joe; all gave you a high that brought a smile to your face. You knew Joe was mad, you also knew he wouldn’t admit it, but it was still fun to get him going.

After what felt like hours of dancing, a very drunk Anthony hung onto you as you made your way through the crowd. Walking back to your original table, you accidentally lock eyes with the pair that had been watching you all night. You watch as he turns to a few of the guys and says something to them. Soon after two of them head over to your table. “Hey y/n, we got Anthony, he’s too shit faced to make his way home, we’ll get an uber with him,”Justin says. “Are you sure? I mean I was planning on heading out anyway, I could call one,” you ask. “Nah, it’s all good he’s our neighbor we got it. See ya around.” He says as he and the other guy pull Anthony along out of the bar.

You finally decide it’s time to go as the bar was mostly drunks and most of your friends had left, you texted Abby that you were waiting outside, given you didn’t want to go back over to Joe’s table to get her.

You were about to request an uber, when you felt a hand on your back. You turn around to find Joe with a face you had never seen before. You’ve seen him at his most ecstatic point, his cockiest, and even his angriest, but never like this. He looked almost defeated. “Joe-” he cuts you off. “I hate seeing you with him, hate it.” he says flat out. “The way he touches you, the way he looks at you, I hated every second of what I couldn’t take my eyes off of in there.” He says moving inches away from you. You’re forced to look up at him now and you can feel that familiar sensation in your stomach. “What are you talking about Joe, stop acting like you wanted something to come out of the other night. I know you and I know how you work, you don’t want anything but sex.” you reply rolling your eyes at him. He grabs your hand and you try to yank it away but he holds on. “I know, I know, and I don’t know where this is coming from, but I just don’t want you with anyone else okay?” his face holds some kind of sincerity you’ve never seen before. “Joe Burrow…” you smile, “are you…jealous?” you raise your eyebrows waiting for an answer. He just stares at you as you continue to smile, until he finally breaks. He crashes his lips into yours and before you can think, your hands are cupping his cheeks. His hands move across your whole body as he holds you close. When you pull away you smile, but his face stays stoic. “Maybe I am jealous y/n…” he starts moving so that his lips are inches from yours, “cause I don’t want anyone to touch you the way I do.”

You feel yourself hit the wall as your back makes its way through Joe’s apartment. He moves from your lips to your neck, sucking hard to get a moan out of you. He pulls you into his bedroom, slamming the door behind you both.

Pushing you on the bed, he goes to undo his belt but you stop him, replacing his hands with yours. He pulls your shorts down instead and practically rips you’re flimsy “LSU” tank top off your chest. You finally get his pants to hit the floor and push him onto the bed so the two of you can switch spots. You make him move up so you can position yourself perfectly between his legs. You take his cock in hand and start to stroke him, earning an immediate moan from him. You were surprised he was letting you do this, his whole claim to fame is his constant dominance in the bedroom, but you weren’t complaining whatsoever.

Taking him into your mouth, you gag as he hits the back of your throat. “Yes baby, like that” he says as you start to bob your head. “that feels so good y/n.” you moan against his cock and continue to work him until he insists he’s about to fall over edge. You replace your mouth with your hands and stroke him quickly, not daring to lose eye contact. “cum joey” you lick his tip one last time before he lets go and his orgasm hits, you clean him dry of every last drop.

“fuck” he moans out as he lies there for a moment. He looks down to find you smiling, and you could swear you saw something switch is his eyes. He pulls you on top of him, only to flip positions to put you beneath him. He sets you on all fours and puts himself right behind you. “You like being put in place huh?” he says, you only moan in return feeling him slide your panties to the side and run a finger along your pussy.

“Joe, please i need you,” you beg as he continues to toy with you. You feel him lick along your center and let out a moan as he removes his tongue. Deciding to make this a little more fun, you bring your hand down to your center and start to play with yourself. “Joe, I swear to god, i’ll do this myself if you don’t want to help me,” you moan out as you feel his body stiffen behind you. He pushes your hand away and replaces it with his, causing you to gasp. Suddenly you feel him push into you and you can hold back the sound that escapes your lips. You rock into him desperate for movement. “No.” he says, “stop being needy and let me fuck you how I want to.” he demands as he begins to rock into you.

“Joe, oh my god.” you shake out, you have felt him before, but you don’t think you could ever get used to this. “I know baby.” He thrusts harder and faster each time and you can’t do anything but melt beneath him. Both of you moan at the feeling of one another and you feel that familiar feeling arise in your stomach.

“Joe, i’m gonna cum.” you moan out. He continues to thrust into you while wrapping a hand around you to meet your center. He rubs at your clit, causing you to scream out to him. “Come on baby, cum for me.” and that was all it took to send you over edge. He does the same just seconds after finishing with a few last thrusts before you both collapse onto the bed.

“Wow” was all you could say. He laughs in return and pulls you into him. You nuzzle against his chest and look up to him, “did i find Joe Burrow’s soft spot?” you giggle. “hmmm maybe.” he says smiling down to you. The two of you drift off to sleep and you’re pleasantly surprised to find him beside you the next morning.

Thank you for the requests everyone, I promise i’m making my way through them 🫶

#joe burrow #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow smut #joeburrow request #AMfic

382 notes · View notes

your-nanas-house · 1 year

Note

Hi there! May I request a fic where Anthony Bridgerton’s wife gives him the silent treatment after an argument? Thank you! I love you 💖

Hello! Of course, this is my first fic with Anthony Bridgerton so sorry if it's bad. You're welcome! 💖

Silent Treatment

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton X wife!Reader

Warnings: argument, angst, fluff

Words: 775

Summary: in the request

Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

.................................................................

Everyone in the Bridgerton family knew by now well the personality of the eldest son, even the lucky lady who agreed to become his wife taking the title of Viscountess but that did not mean she tolerated it.

Her husband Anthony could be sweet, protective, a true gentleman but at the same time also competitive, annoying and stubborn; according to him everything was on his shoulders, which had been true since Edmund's (the father's) death, but there was no need to be so closed-minded and dedicated to work because if not you would become frustrated and exactly what happened one evening.

The newly married couple got along well, they loved each other and enjoyed each other's company but there were times when there were small quarrels that did not turn into something serious since Y/n's personality was able to let it be and calm the situation down before the situation escalated but to everything there is a limit, even to the viscountess's patience.

It happened shortly after dinner, they had enjoyed a family meal and she had retreated to their bedroom, returning downstairs only when she realized that Anthony was still not joining her.

This was not expected, Anthony should not have let the comment slip from his mouth even if it was a confidential conversation with his siblings, but as one can well see from the considerable amount of children Violet Bridgerton had with Edmund Bridgerton, nothing remained a confidential conversation in that house; for that reason an argument also began that evening but it did not end as the Viscount expected because this time his wife's patience reached a limit and although they had moved to their rooms she refused to calm the situation and ignore again but answered in the same tone, letting out of her lips all the things she had been thinking and holding in for several months leaving Anthony silent for a few moments but still angry.

He had no chance to respond because as soon as Y/n finished screaming she grabbed a pillow and headed for another room, locking herself in there.

The Viscount wanted to follow her but realized that maybe it was better if he let her sleep wherever she preferred for that night since the next morning everything would be back to the way it was or so he thought.

The next morning there were no words exchanged between the two of them, Y/n just had breakfast with her husband's family while she ignored him completely refusing to talk to him, infuriating Anthony who followed her into the kitchen where she had moved and stopped his anger which turned to guilt when he saw her wiping away tears.

Apparently yesterday's words had hurt her more than the gentleman thought, it was not his intention and he did not really mean them rather he actually claimed the opposite but at that moment it had seemed right to say it to win the argument.

The silent treatment continued throughout the day, there were attempts by the viscount to try to apologize or talk to his wife but she continued with that punishment that caused Anthony to break down in the evening.

He needed to put things right as soon as possible, which is why he locked himself in his office and only came out when he was sure he had everything ready, after which he went to the rooms where his viscountess had decided to spend the night again and knocked on the door while waiting.

No one answered but he did not allow himself to be demoralized and began to recite the mediocre poem he had attempted to write in his office, waiting for a response, which there was as Y/n opened the door to the room shortly after, looking at him completely serious.

Anthony continued with his courtship for three more days before she gave in completely by forgiving him and going back to sleep in his arms at night, gladly accepting their first heir also as a way of proving to Anthony that she could be a great mother even though she might be childish at times, thus proving to him that his claim of the now-forgotten quarrel was completely false but Anthony didn't need to have proof to realize that.

He loved his Viscountess and would have done anything for her, even wooing her all week long despite the fact that they were already married, just to see that smile on her sweet lips or a giggle come out of her gorgeous mouth, her love-filled eyes directed only at him and her body asleep or awake in his arms.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton series #anthony bridgerton x female reader

330 notes · View notes

sea-owl · 10 months

Text

Been rereading AOFAG for older Penelope au ideas and this one came to mind.

Penelope was not expecting to see a pretty dark blonde girl dressed in Benedict's clothes when she came to My Cottage this morning, granted she was not expecting to see her best friend either but here they both were. Apparently, Mr and Mrs Crabtree were not expecting them either, nor did they know who the girl was.

She does have an impressive pair of lungs on her Penelope thought. Her ears were still ringing from the girl's scream upon waking up.

The girl turned out to be named Sophie. It also turns out Benedict had brought her here after rescuing her from the Cavendish party. The girl was a servant, easily told by her calloused hands, though you may not know upon first glance. Frankly, Penelope thinks she looks a little bit like that old Earl Gunningworth. They really should find the poor dear some proper clothes, Benedict's breeches stand no chance of staying up even I they got her a belt.

Benedict groaned, flopping onto the bed after the Crabtrees and Sophie left the room to grab breakfast. He looked up at her, trying to look pathetic.

Penelope rolled her eyes. "Do not expect any sympathy from me, Mr Bridgerton. I told you not to go to that party last night. Now look at you."

"But then I would haven't been able to play hero," Benedict joked. His voice was rough and hoarse from the coughing fits.

Penelope let out her own groan. "Your brother is already trying to play that role, you do not need to as well."

Benedict chuckeled. "And what has little Col done to deserve your ire?"

"How do you know it is not Anthony?" Penelope challenged.

"Because Anthony knows if he drives my best friend away, I shall be insufferable, and it will be his problem. Not to mention the potential reactions of our other siblings. Honestly, why were you not born a Bridgerton? I shall never know. You would look better in our family's colors anyway. I tested it on one of your portraits. You looked beautiful."

Penelope smiled, playfully shaking her head. "Maybe in the next life."

"This one is still possible," Benedict teased. "Colin is still unmarried."

Penelope tried not to blush. Benedict loved bringing up his little brother's past infatuation with her. If only he knew what said brother was up to yesterday.

"As are you," Penelope shot back. "Should I not marry you instead? After all I will have thoie wonderful property when you pass."

Benedict snorted. "And how do you know it won't go to our children?"

Penelope waved her hand. "They'll have it when I pass."

Benedict looked to say something else when a crash was heard from the hall. Penelope stood, taking a look.

"What is it?" Benedict asked.

"Oh, the poor girl," Penelope said. Sophie was struggling to juggle a tray, stocked to the very edges with food in one hand and holding her borrowed breeches up in another. "Benedict, why did you not give her a belt?"

Benedict groaned. The Crabtrees had already chewed him out on that. "Why don't you find her one?"

"I will."

With that, Penelope marched into the hall. "Mr and Mrs Crabtree, if you do not mind, I would like to find Sophie a proper dress. Benedict, the fool seemed to forget My Cottage has plenty."

Careful to hand off the tray Sophie was holding to Mr Crabtree Penelope led Sophie to a room down the hall.

"This is my room for when I visit," Penelope said as she opened up the closet.

Sophie gulped. "Are you the lady of the house."

Penelope choked on a laugh. "Oh no, never would I dream of that. Benedict is a childhood friend who is kind enough to give me a spare key for when I need a place to hide."

A child hood friend? This must be Penelope Featherington. Sophie had read about the odd friendship she and Benedict shared in Whistledown. Many servants from the Bridgerton and Featherington houses had also commented on how odd it was for a gentleman and lady to be so close but not courting.

"Aha!" Penelope pulled down a lilac colored dress with silver trimming and a matching silver belt. "The fit will be off," Penelope said. It couldn't be helped honestly, Penelope was several inches shorter than Sophie and rounder, especially in the chest area. "But it will be much better than what Benedict has you practically swimming in."

"Oh, I couldn't," Sophie waved her hands. "This is too fine-!" n her haste to do so she had forgotten her hold on the breeches.

Sophie blushed when they fell to her ankles. Penelope held back a giggle.

"Consider a thank you for taking care of Benedict. He is a right pain in the arse when he's sick. I should know. One would think he was dying when he simply had a headcold."

Try as Sophie might Penelope wouldn't take no as an answer. She eventually won when she pointed out it was her dress or Benedict's clothes. Sophie put on the dress.

The dress cut off above Sophie's ankles and they had to bunch up the bodice a little bit with the belt but it certainly was a better fit than what Sophie had on before. Especially for a temporary dress.

Benedict laughed when the two girls came back to his room.

"Laugh all you want Mr. Bridgerton," Penelope huffed. "At least I remembered a belt."

#bridgerton #older penelope au #older pen au #sophie beckett #penelope featherington #benedict bridgerton #hinted benophie #benophie #hinted polin #polin

60 notes · View notes

suitsusboth · 4 months

Note

I'm rereading the original Lovelights, loving every minute of it!

Do you think you would be able to write a one-shot about The Game!? I would love to know how that went down, especially since it was Anthony's first time back in who knows how long, and Kate's first time playing it. Has she practiced her skating enough to be Aubrey ready? Do they end up on the same team? Or are they on opposite teams and dominate? How do you see it going down? ♥️

I think the first year Kate witnesses the game, Daphne's surprise announcement very much overshadows everything. The family is shocked. Even more so when, somewhere in-between being asked a hundred questions a minute, Daphne lets it be known the father will not be involved. Anthony doesn't say much after that. Daphne thinks he's deeply disappointed in her, and to herself decides she doesn't need his approval. It's her life. It's her baby.

(Spoiler alert, he isn't disappointed. He's worried about his sister. She might not have said it, but someone has hurt her. Daphne believes in romance and true love. He knows, whoever this guy is, has let her down. And this baby.)

But it does cause a bit of a rift for a while (until Anthony uses his words.)

But, let's have a peek at that first year, hm?

The next morning, bright and early new years day, Kate and Anthony are drinking coffee in bed, with Eggnog laying at their feet. Anthony's phone buzzes.

"Who is it?" Kate asks, taking another sip. Anthony's frowning at his phone.

"Colin. They're all heading to the game."

Silence spread between them. They hadn't talked about it yet. Daphne. It had been a shock, Kate knew that. And as expected, when surprised, Anthony got quiet. He needed to process. This is also new— them. She wasn't completely sure what she should be doing, especially when it came to his family. They had left not long after midnight and Daphne's announcement. When they got back they had gone to bed soon after.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she eventually asks. It seems like a good place to start. It at least let him decide.

He shrugs. "What's there to talk about?"

Kate purses her lips, but refrains from saying anything. Anthony's phone buzzes again, and he sighs.

"We don't have to go," she tells him softly, resting her chin on his shoulder. He's quiet for a moment until he lets out a small smile, and plants a kiss on her forehead.

He shakes his head, and looks at her with a brightness in his eyes again. "No. Let's go."

And they're glad they go. Anthony digs out his old high school hockey jersey for Kate to wear (she's thrilled even though no one will see it under her coat

And they're glad they go. Anthony digs out his old high school hockey jersey for Kate to wear (she's thrilled even though no one will see it under her coat— furthermore, she takes it back to Manhattan and becomes one of her favourite things to wear around her apartment. Anthony likes it too. Particularly when she doesn't wear pants with it.) Everyone is there except Eloise and Daphne. Eloise, fighting a hangover. Daphne, did not want to come. No further explanation was given by Mrs. Bridgerton and no one pressed. Colin, Gregory, Hyacinth and Anthony were playing. Benedict was also fighting a hangover, but he was doing so in sunglasses in a camper chair, sipping an Irish coffee did not join in.

The Game took place on a frozen pond a few miles from town. A lot of people showed up, mostly to spectate though. It seemed only the real talented skaters, who could take a hit, played. There was the blue team, which Bridgertons were on, and the blue team. There was also, seemingly from what Kate overheard, a lot of betting on the side from the townsfolk (Mrs. Agatha seemingly being the ringleader and/or bookie of this event— who in turn gave Kate a wink when she saw her arrive, fingers intertwined with Anthony's.)

Anthony had not been exaggerating when it came to the chaos and brutality of The Game. It was basically a WWE match on ice. Henry tried to referee, but no one seemed to listen. The puck couldn't be seen half the time. But Hyacinth did manage to take out at least three men in their mid to late forties.

It was a mad, and fun, and Kate doesn't think she's laughed that much, ever.

Years later, when Kate was better at ice skating and the Bridgerton family had grown exponentially, they started their own version of The Game on New Years Day on the Farm. They had a rink after all. Some years they were rivals (Kate having the most number of wins, mostly because she 'played dirty'). Some years they were on the same team (Undefeated, suck it Hastings). Most years ended in bruises and big smiles. Only once or twice in tears (usually one of the kids). But they did it every year, and every year they were grateful to have this big, mad, wonderful family and the farm.

#lovelights au #asks #:))))))))))#one day i will write daph and simons story #and one day i'll continue kate and anthony's in this universe #but they just have a happy little family on the farm :)

14 notes · View notes

turtlesnails · 3 months

Text

I don’t want to lose you again

Alex gets a phone call from the hospital saying that his uncle was in a bad accident. Except, Ian Rider died four years ago...

T+, Alex Rider Fandom ( Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz, Alex Rider (TV 2020)), Alex & Yassen, Pre-slash Alex/Yassen

Written for @shehungthemoon prompt for @alexinchainsfest

~7k words, No warnings apply, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, Sickfic,

Preview under the cut:

Alex was already running late to his university class when his cell phone started to ring.

He reached into his pocket intending to turn off the phone's ringer, assuming that the incoming call was from Jack, Sabina or Tom. They were the only people who kept in contact with him regularly.

It was an unknown number, with a 115 area code, Nottingham if Alex remembered correctly. It was likely a spam call; someone trying to sell him something or waste his time. Ian always said to never answer them, plus if it was really that important whoever was calling could just leave a message.

And- Alex stole a glance at the time, if he did not get out of here in the next minute he would miss his train.

There was just something odd nagging at him. Alex pulled the slightly burnt piece of toast out of his mouth and pressed down on the answer button.

“Hello, May I speak with Alex Rider?” The female voice on the other end of the line spoke. Whoever this unknown number was…well, they knew who he was.

“Who is asking?”

“I’m Sarah, a nurse at the Queen’s Medical Centre in Nottingham. I am calling for Alex Rider?

“What?” Alex responded rather confused. Why would a nurse from a hospital miles away call him on this dreary weekday morning. Heck, why at all? It’s not like he had an appointment up there. “Uh… This is him.”

Alex slid himself onto one of the high stools. He did not know anyone in Nottingham. Jack and Sab were both in America, Tom was or should be in his Uni classes. None of them were anywhere near Nottingham. His mind briefly flashed to Ben Daniels. It had been months, almost a year now, since he had spoken to Ben. Ben might have been from Birmingham or Manchester. But if it was Ben…. Alex would have expected Wolf or Crawley to pass the news on to him.

“Well Alex. I’m calling regarding your loved one, Ian Rider. And, I wanted to inform you that they have been admitted to our hospital.”

“What the fuc-“ Alex started to respond before catching himself, “Sorry. I just am really not expecting this. You said my uncle, Ian Rider, is in the hospital?”

“Yes. I know the news can come as a bit of a shock,” She continued, “He was involved in a serious accident when his motorbike collided with oncoming traffic. He listed your name and phone number to the medical personnel at the scene, before being med flown to Queen’s Medical center. He is currently in the Intensive Burn unit at the hospital. I am calling firstly to inform you of his condition but also because you are listed as Ian’s medical proxy, and legally are able to make decisions on his behalf for treatment.”

Alex ran a hand through his hair. It was unbelievable. There is no way Ian is still alive? Or was there? It was a closed casket at the funeral. Ian or even Alan Blunt could have faked his death. Four years…

It was a long time. And, if Ian was alive why didn’t he try to make contact with Alex before that? Why would he just abandon him? Especially if he knew Blunt and Jones would take advantage? Alex felt just a bit angry.

“Alright,” Alex repeated, turning his focus back to the phone call, “What happened? And what do I have to do?”

“Firstly, Ian has suffered from second and third degree burns on his right side. The third degree burns extend through the entire thickness of his skin, are more challenging to treat and may require skin grafts. He also sustained a head injury. We’ve conducted relevant diagnostic tests which showed swelling. Our main concern here is increased pressure on his brain from his skull. But, we need consent in order to do surgery.”

“My consent, right?” Alex asked

“Correct. We also want to make sure that you know the procedure, the risks and the benefits, along with answering any questions you might have.”

“That is the best thing to do, right? That’s what the doctors are recommending?”

“The sooner we reduce the swelling and pressure on the skull the better.”

“Alright, yeah do that. I’m definitely not going to make it to my class today…. You said Nottingham?”

“Yes, that is correct.” The nurse responded.

“Good. I’ll be on the next train up.” With that Alex ended the phone call, and pondered what had just happened. He felt nauseous, like the room was spinning way too fast around him.

On one hand, Ian could be dead. There was always a chance that there are two Ian Riders with the same birthdays in the UK- maybe the other Ian had a nephew named Alex. Alex was a common enough name. So was Rider. On the other hand, Ian could be very much alive. Which brought Alex full of emotions. If he was alive why did he wait four years to contact Alex, why was he in Nottingham, and why didn’t anyone tell him? A thought dawned on Alex. Maybe they did not even know Ian was still alive.

(Continue reading on AO3)

#ao3 #fanfiction #alex rider #yassen gregorovich #ao3 fanfic #AlexinChains

11 notes · View notes

waterlilyrose · 1 year

Note

Would you be able to write a fic/drabble showing Anthony the truth of the kind of future he is condemning himself to? Maybe another Lord who has a marriage of convenience but found regret at not following his heart. Or if you want to make it magical, '13 going on 30' time jump?

Link to A03 version

The ball was not thrown in honour of the ‘happy couple’ but Anthony was well aware that himself and Edwina were the main attraction of the night. So many people had come forward to congratulate them on their upcoming nuptials that the faces were all blending together. Miss Edwina was smiling broadly with every well-wisher; Anthony had only been able to nod at a select few while grinding his back teeth nearly into dust.

He knew he was putting on a poor show of the blushing bridegroom. Even Hastings, who had always asserted that he would never marry or sire an heir, had seemed genuinely eager to marry Anthony’s sister. Miss Edwina was so giddy with her upcoming wedding and future life as the Viscountess that she hadn't noticed her fiancé's lack of any kind of enthusiasm. Benedict had only said just that morning when he had been informed the tailor would be visiting to take his measurements for his wedding suit that Anthony looked like he took the news as solemnly as though he had been given a date for his execution.

"I knew you weren't exactly eager to lose your heart but you look like you are about to submit to torture." Benedict continued. His younger brother was a jovial chap – always making everyone around him smile even when they didn't want to. Anthony hated that. Anthony also envied that. Yet underneath it all, he suspected that Benedict would not turn him away if he came to him for help. Any of his family would actually; even his mother who had been nagging him to marry for years. But his pride was too strong to admit he was in over his head. Daphne had seen more than he wanted her to in his study during the Hearts and Flowers ball and had tried to advise him – he'd ignored her, made a rash decision and now his sister was adamant that she would show up for the wedding and nothing more. What if Anthony told Benedict and he didn't know what to do either? What if he laughed at Anthony? Worse, what if he told Anthony the truth, which was that he was a fool and a coward?

Anthony stood with his mother, Benedict and Eloise (who looked eager for a fire or a fight to start to stop her expiring from boredom) with Lady Danbury and the Sharmas. Lady Mary and Miss Edwina were eager to make conversation about everything and nothing while Lady Danbury exchanged smiles with Lady Violet. Anthony wondered if he was imagining it but the two matriarchs, who had been so proud of their previous success with Hastings and Daphne, looked a little strained in their supposed pride. Almost like they had expected the success of yet another Bridgerton betrothal to have tasted sweeter somehow. Yet Anthony wasn’t paying too much attention to any of them. His eyes kept straying to the one member of the group who seemed determined to look anywhere but at him.

Kate had seemed to have made it her mission in life to get through the weeks leading up to the wedding with dignity and poise. So that meant no more confrontations, in public or otherwise, with her future brother-in-law. Unfortunately for Anthony the only way Kate seemed able to achieve this was to pretend any space containing his presence was empty. She would not acknowledge him unless Anthony felt bold enough to ask her a direct question. And that rarely ended well.

After three days of Kate making conversation with every member of society but him, he had actually gone so far as to try and be friendly towards her menace of a dog. Lady Mary and Edwina appeared delighted when he even fed Newton one of his biscuits in Lady Danbury's drawing room (the matriarch seemed less than impressed at potential crumbs on her carpet) and Anthony tentatively addressed Kate who sat on a window-seat rather than the sitting area he inhabited.

"Don't want him to get hungry, do we?" He mused in her direction.

Kate looked at him without expression.

"Oh no…an unthinkable fate indeed."

Anthony was incapable of saying a word when Kate then declared she was taking Newton for a walk and left him without a backward glance.

So much of Anthony's words and actions were coming home to roost and it felt like he was drowning on dry land. It was as plain as the writing on Lady Whistledown's articles that Kate would not give him any more of her time. The reality that she had every right and more to never be left alone with him again was small comfort. He knew that beyond the hurt and desire to have nothing more to do with the man who would soon become the only male member of her family, she was actually being socially astute. If she made sure she was attended by Lady Danbury or Lady Mary at all times until her departure and never looked at Anthony in a way that Lady Danbury or heaven forbid his mother would notice as untoward then she could not be accused of impropriety. Not that it would matter – if Anthony's behaviour didn't improve and he couldn't stop himself gazing at her then she would always get the lion's share of the blame. Society would always blame the woman and Anthony found himself in complete agreement with Eloise for the first time in years – it wasn't fair in the slightest. But that was the world they lived in and so Anthony owed it to Kate to try to do his bit. For the love of God, he owed her that at least.

He looked around the ballroom and looked at the orchestra for something to focus upon. This was made up of all females and Anthony found his eye caught by one of the women playing the cello. She was about his mother's age and had maintained the same level of handsomeness as her. But that did not impress Anthony so much as the clear passion for which she played her instrument. She played the song she was tasked to like nothing else in the world mattered to her but getting the notes perfect.

"Enjoying the music, Brother?" Benedict quipped. Normally Anthony might have been worried that his staring might be interpreted as somewhat crude but now… if he was staring at some random woman, then he wasn't staring at Kate.

"It is an impressive tune." Anthony replied blandly before turning to his mother. "She looks close to your age Mother. Have you two met?"

Violet Bridgerton looked away from whatever Lady Danbury was saying and peered in the direction Anthony indicated. Her look of curiosity turned to shock and then embarrassment.

"Oh! Um…no, I don't believe so." Violet Bridgerton stammered. Anthony may not be the most perspective of fellows but he was adept at knowing when his mother was lying.

"Who is she? Were you friends?"

"We are in public, Dearest." Violet said with a fixed grin on her face. "Do not ask me any more questions." Her tone was the one he had grown to loathe so much – keep smiling and don't ask me anything I don't want to answer. Anthony looked at Benedict in confusion but it appeared his brother was as lost as himself.

So his options were confusion or yearning – wonderful.

Edwina was talking about wishing to dance the next quadrille while looking hopefully at Anthony. He tried to smile politely at the idea of taking to the floor with his betrothed. But then the idea of performing the role of 'man happily engaged and not slowly dying inside' came to a halt. For Mr Dorset had approached the party.

The doctor (Anthony refused to think of him as a friend at that moment) approached Kate with a friendly smile and asked her if she would like to join him in a dance. Anthony felt certain for a brief second that she would say no - Mr Dorset had tried to pay her attention at the promenade and both Anthony and Dorset had ended up falling in the lake for his troubles. But Kate merely smiled and placed her hand in Dorset's to let him lead her to the floor. Everyone seemed delighted for Kate to be receiving attention as Dorset led Kate into their position on the dancefloor while Anthony felt like he was in free-fall. Witnessing Kate laughing and smiling with another man had caused Anthony to nearly lose his head at the promenade. He couldn't watch again. He couldn't do it.

"My Lord?" Anthony looked towards Edwina's voice and saw she still looked eager to dance while also looking concerned. "Are you well?"

"Yes. No. I mean…" the music had started and he could see Kate and Dorset begin the steps of their dance. "Forgive me, I feel rather out of sorts. Excuse me." And before anyone could offer to come with him, or worse the matriarchs could muse it might not look good in front of the ton, Anthony turned on his heel and strode towards the doors of the outside. He felt hot enough to pass out; he needed some air.

The garden had a terrace which seemed thankfully deserted. Anthony gulped in cold air in the hope of calming his pounding heart. It did very little. The ache in his chest was still present. It would probably be present all his life.

Hopefully with time it would ease. And if not…well he could become accustomed to it.

There was someone smoking a cigar a little further down the terrace. Anthony saw it was an older gentleman so it wasn't a friend from the gentleman's club. But he did recognise the figure a little. With slow movements, he approached the man who seemed happy to look up at the stars rather than his surroundings.

"Lord Fitzgerald?"

The older man looked at Anthony and Anthony felt a rush of genuine pleasure. Lord Fitzgerald had been a great friend of his father and used to visit Bridgerton House to chat with Edmund on occasion (they hadn't liked the gentleman's club). Anthony also remembered that Lord Fitzgerald was Colin's godfather. After Anthony's father had died, the Lord had seemed genuinely bereaved and then Lord Fitzgerald had left for France for many years. Anthony hadn't seen the man since he was about twenty.

Lord Fitzgerald had always been a striking man yet Anthony was a little shocked at the sight of him now. The man was still tall and fairly lean but his dark hair was now completely white with a beard that was out of fashion surrounding his lower face. There were lines around his eyes and he looked very tired. There was an air about him of neglect or complacency which rarely boded well. He was early fifties at the very most but he looked ten years old.

"Anthony Bridgerton! Well it has been a while." They didn't hug but shook hands warmly. "As I live and breathe, you look like Edmund. You have his eyes."

"How are you, Sir?" Anthony asks.

"Sir is a bit formal. But you always were formal. Edmund worried about that – said you were trying to be too serious too quick." Anthony's face must have fallen a bit to hear that his father had thought him deficient in some way because Fitzgerald carried on. "It wasn't a criticism, young man. Edmund just wanted you to be happy. He wanted all his children to be happy. As was his way."

"He was the best of men." Anthony said wistfully, acutely aware that he had done a woeful job of living up to him. "And the best of husband's. My mother mourns him to this day."

"And it appears that you are joining the vast majority of us in the state of matrimony. I hear congratulations are in order."

Nothing could have punctured Anthony's elevation of mood quicker. He put on his mask of polite aloofness and nodded "Thank you, Sir."

"I spotted her earlier. The Diamond apparently. A very lovely girl."

"Miss Edwina is the perfect debutante and undoubtedly will be the perfect Viscountess."

"And a perfect wife? Or have you not mused on that?" Fitzgerald asked wryly.

Anthony did not show irritation at the question. Irritation required him to care and he just couldn't at that moment. "Duty requires me to marry and Miss Edwina will make a fine choice. She is gentle, poised in company and desires children. We will make a fine match."

"Shame that 'fine' doesn't automatically mean 'good'." Fitzgerald mused. Anthony was used to his decision being questioned by his friends, family and Kate but to have yet another negative voice in the form of a man his father highly esteemed hurt deeply. The tired face of Lord Fitzgerald looked at him with sad wisdom in his slightly bloodshot eyes. "I heard you were here and I wished to see you. So I observed you in the ballroom with your family. It was good to see your mother and siblings again. And I wanted to see your future wife."

"Why…why did you not approach us? My mother would have liked to have seen you."

"Because something stopped me. The sight of you stopped me. I am not stupid – I know the majority of marriages made in this ton are made out of mutual benefit at best. But most men do not look so careworn at the prospective. I have seen many a reluctant bride for we all know how many women are marched to the altar without a care for their feelings. Men are given more power in their choices though not quite as much as some imagine. But sometimes even with power the wrong choice can be made."

Anthony stared at Fitzgerald, his old defensiveness rising out of panic. "How can you make such an assumption from watching me for a few moments? You do not know-"

"I know that the only person in that group that inspired your eyes to look something other than defeated was not your future wife. It was the one who refused you access to her own eyes."

Anthony stared at Fitzgerald. Oh Lord…if this man had seen after being away for so long then who else… Anthony wanted to deny the truth and stamp away from this conversation, to run into the garden, find a bench and sit on it until his breathing got under control. But he was tired. So tired and clearly a terrible actor. If his best performance couldn't convince anyone of the lie, why carry on with it? And this man…his father had considered this man a brother. And for a brief second it was a little like Edmund Bridgerton was here in some capacity. And Anthony wanted his Papa back in some form.

"It's too late." Anthony whispered. "I've gone too far. I can't turn back now."

"'Can't' or 'won't'?" Fitzgerald asked grimly. "You are making the biggest decision of your life which I also know will become the greatest error of it too."

"How do you know-"

"I know." Fitzgerald said firmly with a surety that Anthony had never heard before. "I know all about the road you are walking. I have walked it. And I beg you – do not put another foot forward. For the love of God, turn back now." Fitzgerald inhaled deeply. "You know that I am married?"

"Of course." Anthony said softly.

"I married at much the same age as you are now. You were eleven at the time I believe. Your father had been teasing me for many years to just get on with it – he had been married for nearly a decade so probably thought I was dragging my feet. He wasn't wrong. I was. But mainly because the woman I wanted to marry would have been deemed wildly unsuitable by society." Lord Fitzgerald looked towards the doors that led back to the ball. "A woman of no rank, no dowry who worked for a living? It was unheard of. But nothing made me so happy as to see her play her cello."

Cello? Anthony looked towards the doors too. Pointless as he could not see her but…the woman in the orchestra. The woman playing the cello. Her?

"Vivian was more than just a beauty – she was strong too. Music was her lifeblood and she was born to play. She knew that her life would be more difficult for her – being a woman who had to work for a living – but she did it. Through talent and grit. She would not accept a penny from me when most artists rely on the purses of their lovers to get ahead. She challenged me. She pushed me. She intoxicated me. And I loved her. Oh my word, I loved her.”

Anthony stared at him without mounting horror. “What happened?”

“I happened. I was always going to happen in the end. My family fell into financial difficulty. Nothing appalling but...we needed money. And a hefty dowry would do the trick nicely. I could live a modest life with Vivian on the outskirts of society perfectly happily if it was just me but if my family were to suffer...” Fitzgerald swallowed. “You understand the length that some go to for family, don’t you?”

“My family is everything.” Anthony murmured. “They have been my sole priority since…since Father died.” I am marrying a sensible option for them. I am doing my duty to the family. How can that be wrong? If that is wrong then...then everything I have ever done has been wrong and I don’t think I can handle that. “So you gave her up?”

Lord Fitzgerald nodded. “I would not demean her enough to ask her to hitch her wagon to a married man. And she would never have been my mistress anyway. If she was not good enough to be the only one then she was not good enough at all. I married Margaret for her ten thousand pounds and tried to move on.” Lord Fitzgerald shook his head. “Your father scorned it. I’m sure he judged me for it. We even came to blows once or twice. Edmund was a good man but he didn’t understand – he had the love of his life and more children than he could ever imagine. He’d never had to choose between his birth family and happiness. In the end, we made a pact to never discuss it. We both held our own opinions and that was that.”

“What happened after?” Anthony asked. “With your marriage?”

“Margaret is a good wife on paper. She gave me two daughters and a son. She was a great hostess. She was a loyal woman. And I cannot fault her for any of it. She did her best and I did mine. Sadly sometimes...your best is not good enough. They say that love grows. And it can. In some cases. But all we have ever achieved is respect and cordiality. Never love. She now lives her life and I live mine. We present a united front for the ton and for the children but they have all grown and left us now. Now we only have each other. And it turns out we have nothing to say.”

“But” Anthony felt like he was grasping at straws “don’t you see? That’s what I want. A pleasant companion. No more. Someone who will not grieve me like my mother did for my father.”

Fitzgerald looked at him long and hard. The pity in his eyes was like a burn to the skin. “And you might have been content with that. But sadly, if I’m right, you’ve already experienced the other side. You’ve felt what love, real love, can feel like. And I’m sorry – once you’ve tasted that, nothing else will ever do. And you will resent it for not living up to that. Though you are correct – no-one will grieve you when it is your time. As no-one will grieve me. My parents are dead. My marriage is a farce. My children rarely write to me. I might inspire two weeks of tears and then they will grow sick of wearing mourning for me. Rest assured, when your time comes, you will inspire nothing. Is that what you want?”

Once upon a more ignorant time, Anthony would have screamed ‘Yes! Perfect! No-one is hurt then” but now that the reality was at his door...it did not look so enticing. In fact, it scared him to death.

“I told my mother...” Anthony swallowed “at Father’s grave...I could never be the cause of such pain.”

At that, Fitzgerald nearly snorted. “And you’re not already? Lord Bridgerton, your father affected you all with his death but he didn’t kill anything. Your actions...you will be ruining not only your life but everyone else’s. That poor young lady who you keep staring at will go on with her heart in tatters, knowing you weren’t brave enough to stand up for her. Your sweet young bride-to-be will open her eyes to the reality and find herself trapped in a marriage to someone she never even knew. Your family will go on to live their own lives and leave you behind. Your children...I don’t know where this idea came from but people need to understand that children are not stupid. They pick up on things and learn to survive what they cannot see. They will pick up on the lack of love between you and Miss Edwina and will see it as normal. If your child comes to you to say they want to marry someone they clearly don’t love but who is sensible, would you praise them? Or would your heart break for the life they think they deserve?” Fitzgerald put his hand on Anthony’s shoulder and squeezed. “This is your future, my lad. Me, standing here now...this is going to be you. And look at me. I’m reaching the end of the line. I cough up stuff in the morning. I drink too much. My heart beats strangely. I haven’t seen a doctor because there is no point. There is nothing to stay for. Edmund would have hated this and no doubt you’ve heard that enough times in your life. But we could never talk about my choices without screaming at each other. So ask yourself – do you want to be like me?”

Anthony was shaking badly and felt sick. Fitzgerald looked satisfied. Without another word, Anthony turned on his heel and ran back inside. He never bid his father’s friend farewell as he dashed back towards his family and the Sharmas to rectify the damage he had done.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

18 Months Later

Anthony received the news through his mother. It was broken to him over tea that morning.

“They believe it was his heart. He was found on the floor of his sitting room. It looks like it was quick.” Violet Bridgerton said haltingly.

Anthony merely nodded and excused himself to go to his study. He sat in his chair and looked up at the portrait of his father on the wall. He wondered if there was a portrait of Lord Fitzgerald in his own home. Well, what used to be his home.

The gentleman was dead. Gone.

Fitzgerald had retired to his country estate not long after Anthony had broken his engagement to Edwina. Anthony had wanted to go to him and personally thank him but between the distance with their estates and Anthony’s own busy schedule, he had been forced to stick to letters. Fitzgerald’s last letter a month ago had alluded to chest pains but apparently that was normal. Anthony recommended maybe taking daily walks but knew in his heart that such advice would be ignored.

There was a knock on the door and Anthony looked up to see Kate come into the room. Ned was in a cuddly mood that day and was content to cling to his mother’s neck as though she would drop him and walk away at any moment.

“I heard your friend has passed.” Kate said sympathetically. “Can I do anything?”

Anthony smiled. His wife had a truly kind and caring nature despite coming off as prickly when they first encountered. She was a fantastic mother and it made Anthony’s heart swell to see her with Ned. Sometimes he loved them so much his chest actually hurt from the reality of it. But the pain was good. Because some pain was.

“Nothing, My Love. It shouldn’t have been a surprise.” Anthony stood. “I do wish to pop to the florists though in town. Arrange for flowers to be sent to his estate. I shall not be too long.” He kissed her deeply and dropped a kiss on Ned’s head of curly hair too. He was permitted a little wave of ‘bye, bye’ from his son before he returned to clinging to his mother so Anthony considered that a win. He couldn’t judge – he was much the same when it came to wanting Kate close.

After arranging for a large arrangement of lillies to be sent to Fitzgerald’s estate (it was perversely funny to him how the flowers associated with funerals and mourning held such an opposite significance to Anthony), he got back in his carriage but rather than return home, he asked the driver to take him to the old opera house. He believed the female orchestra was practising there for a show next week.

The opera hall was deserted when he arrived but music could be heard coming from the concert room. Anthony walked towards it and into the seating hall.

The female orchestra was not present and only one sat in place, playing a piece of music. The cello was deeply beautiful but achingly sad. Anthony’s recognised it as dirge.

The lady, Vivian, looked up to see that Anthony was there. The music did not even halt as she continued to play.

This is all she can do. This is all she has to mourn the man that she never stopped loving – play her cello. She probably won’t even be able to attend his funeral. But she can play a dirge and remember him.

Anthony and Vivian stared at one another and, slowly, Anthony bowed his head in respect and acknowledgement. With tears shining in her eyes, Vivian inclined her head too.

Anthony took a seat and Vivian continued to play.

He hoped that Fitzgerald knew somehow that he had been wrong: there were at least two people left behind that mourned him deeply. One who mourned for the man and the life they might have had if they had done things differently. And the other who mourned for the man who saved him from that life altogether.

#waterlilyrose #kanthony #bridgerton #kathony #fanfic #fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #angst with a happy ending #for Kanthony anyway #bittersweet

64 notes · View notes

stars-of-kyber · 9 months

Note

I do not know where this has come from but I do know that you’re probably one of the very few authors in this fandom that I know I could request to bring this to life and it’ll turn out better than my imagination.

Kate and Anthony have been together a while - they’re just getting to know about each other but one thing that Anthony doesn’t know is that Kate has dormant asthma which acts up during a stressful period and Anthony is there to witness it. He doesn’t know what to do or what’s going on, just that he is out of his mind looking at Kate going all blue in the face. I’ll leave the rest to you.

Would you please please please write it, my dear friend? Please???

You know they say flattery won't get you anywhere but with me, that's not true, complimenting me can get you very far lol

Thank you for the prompt! I love these random ideas that send me into an inspiration fit <3 and thank you for the comment I love it so much it makes me so happy you have NO idea.

You know what's funny? I've never mentioned any of this to anyone here bc it was years ago but my ex-boyfriend used to have severe asthma and one of the scariest situations in my entire life was the day his inhaler ended at work and he arrived at my house looking completely blue.

@chrissisheadisinclouds who asked for No 14 “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.” so I put the two together.

I have to thank @kateandanthonyaremyparents and @mimix007 for the help and support and comments I love you both so much. And to my ex who not only made me live those insane asthmatic partner experiences but has been answering my annoying asthma questions for the past three days bc of this story lol Thanks Adal, you're great!

Here is Breathe, I hope it was able to live up to your expectations.

Anthony's day was being hectic at best. His alarm didn't go off and when he'd woken up with Kate rolling out of bed to get ready for work, he was already supposed to be at the office for at least fifteen minutes. It was raining strongly outside and by the time he arrived at work, he was about an hour late. And to top it all off, thirty minutes after that, the lights went off. A fallen tree smashed some cables and the entire twenty-one floors of the commercial building went powerless, along with at least another eight around them. All employees were instructed to work at home and Anthony had to climb down fourteen flights of stairs to go back to where he shouldn't have left in the first place.

The rest of his morning had been mostly ordinary. He sat through an hours-long meeting that could have been an e-mail, answered stupid questions from people who didn't know how to do their own jobs and ate cold leftover pizza for lunch.

It was around three in the afternoon when Newton, who had been napping quietly on his study sofa, lifted his head in surprise, listening to the click of the front door opening.

Anthony stood, following the dog with a furrow of his eyebrow. Was Kate home early? He knew storms upset her and the wind was picking up, cracks of thunder rolling over the sky, making windows rattle, so she might have taken a half day, but she hadn't called or texted him about it.

He knew something was wrong the moment his eyes landed on Kate. Newton had rushed to her, wiggling his chubby butt as he nuzzled her legs to get her attention but his girlfriend didn't bend to greet him as she usually did. Instead, she stood stock-still, her entire body resting heavily against the shut door, trembling softly. Her eyes were closed and her chest was rising and falling too quickly, too harshly and her breathing was raggedy and rattling on her chest.

Her lips were blue.

"Kate?" She jumped at the sound of his voice, her eyes snapping open and falling on him. "Are you okay?" He could hear the worried hitch in his voice the same way he could hear the wheezing in her breath. She didn't answer, shaking her head, but she reached out for him as he approached, allowing him to wrap his arms safely around her shaking body. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Can't breathe." Kate croaked, trying to swallow a lungful of air.

"Is it the storm? Are you having a panic attack?" His hands roamed nervously over her, trying to soothe and check for any injuries at the same time. Kate just shook her head again, her eyes turning wet as her breathing grew more and more raggedy.

"Asthma." She whispered hoarsely. Anthony knew Kate had asthma, of course, he did, but only from the stories he heard from Mary and Edwina. His girlfriend never talked about it and in the year they've been together, two months of that year living in the same house, he'd never seen her have even a hint of what could look like a flare-up. He'd seen panic attacks and nightmares, but nothing that could indicate any difficulty breathing at all.

The worst part is that Anthony had no idea what to do.

He'd treated his fair share of allergy crises and strep infections. Rash and sunburns were easy. He could handle everything from scraped knees to broken bones and he had experience with how to deal with inebriation and hangovers. But none of his siblings had asthma.

"Do you have an inhaler?" It was the only thing he knew about it, from years of films and shows about people using the little pumps whenever they felt any symptoms coming. Kate shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

"Ended... A while back." She told him, her breathing worsening as the words came out, her bluish lips wobbling as tears ran down her face. "Didn't think I needed it anymore."

"Okay..." Anthony's hands were trembling as they rubbed up and down his girlfriend's arms. " Hey, don't cry, alright? I'm here, I'm with you okay? Always. I'll figure it out, try to breathe as steadily as you can."

"My chest hurts." She whispered brokenly, leaning her cheek at the palm that moved to cradle her face, closing her eyes.

"I know love, but you need to calm down and save your breath, can you do that for me, sweetheart?" Kate nodded painfully, attempting to slow her breathing although the wheezing remained just as bad. "You're doing great, darling. Keep breathing in and out as slow as you can." Anthony guided her gently towards one of the sofas, Newton following on her heels. "Just sit here and try to breathe slowly alright? I'll be right back."

Kate just nodded, her hands burrowed deeply into Newton's fur as he climbed into her lap.

Anthony took one last worried look at her before moving to the kitchen, fishing his phone out of his pocket. The first try went to voicemail after a minute of ringing and he dialed again. This time, after just three rings, the call connected.

"Anthony, is everything alright?" Mary's voice was low on the other side of the line. He knew Kate's stepmother was working at the moment but if she hadn't picked up the phone, his next call would be directed to 999.

"Oh thank God." He released all the air he had been holding back while the phone rang. "Mary, I need your help. Kate's... she's having an asthma... attack? Crisis? Flare? I don't know what it's called. She can't breathe and I don't know what to do."

"Ok, Anthony, dear, listen to me. I need you to calm down."

"Calm down?! Mary, she's turning blue!" Anthony's voice was an octave higher than usual, his attempt at whispering turning into a squeak.

"Listen, I know it’s scary, okay? By God, I really, really do." Kate's stepmother's voice was trembling slightly over the telephone. "But Kate's already nervous and she needs to be as tranquil as possible so you can't panic right now, yes?"

"Yes, I... I know that. It's just..." He let the words trail out, unsure how to phrase them.

"It's terrifying." His mother-in-law's voice was filled with sorrow and worry on the other side of the line as she spoke. "I used to sit next to her bed all night, watching her chest rise and fall after one of those crises."

"What do I do, Mary?"

"Does she have an inhaler?"

"No, she said she'd run out and didn't think she needed a refill."

"Of course she did." He could see clearly in his mind the way Mary was most likely shaking her head with a sad little smile. "Make her a strong cup of tea." Anthony was already moving while she spoke, filling the electric kettle with fresh water before turning it on. "Caffeine has similar effects as the inhaler and it can help ease her shortness of breath. At least for a little while."

"Okay. Water's boiling. What else?"

"Just keep her sitting up and focusing on her breathing. And some honey might help too if you have it."

"And after the tea?" Anthony asked, opening and closing cupboards until he found the small half-used bottle of honey he kept for Hyacinth when she came over.

"Once she's feeling a bit better, take her to the A&E to get proper medication."

"Right." He stood in the silence of the kitchen for a few moments, watching the water begin to bubble over the glass and he only knew Mary was still on from the soft background noises coming through the speaker. "I didn't even know she had asthma... I mean, I heard it from you and Eddie but I... I thought it was treated or something... I never seen her have anything remotely similar to a crisis so I just assumed..."

"I don't think she'd had a crisis in a while, but I don't think Kate would have told me about it." Mary let out a tired little sigh. "She's always hated her asthma flares so much and she'd try to hide it from us until she could barely breathe. It was like those storms she was so afraid of as a girl. I think Kate tried to keep these things to herself so we don't worry about her or something like it."

It was lucky the conversation was happening through the phone because Anthony would not have been able to look Kate's stepmother in the eye. Mary was not aware that Kate's deep-rooted horror of storms had not disappeared, but shifted as she had learned to hide her feelings better. Hell, Anthony only came to discover them by accident, when he decided to stop at her flat instead of trying to make it home in the rain only to find her curled up on the floor of her closet, her eyes glassy and her nose pressed to Newton's fur. He was quite certain that if he hadn't found her that day, Kate would have kept the fact from him for as long as she was humanly able.

Yet he hadn't really told her about his blinding fear of bees and of not living past until it had been impossible to keep it from her without tossing their entire relationship away. He really couldn't judge her much without making himself a huge hypocrite.

"I've got the honey." He told her, clutching the bottle to him with shaky hands. "I'll go give some to her while the tea is not ready."

"You do that. Please keep me updated, I'll have my phone with me if you need anything."

"Will do."

"And Anthony? You tell Kate she'd better have an inhaler on her the next time I see her."

"Don't worry Mary." He told her honestly. If he had his way, there would be an asthma inhaler tied to Kate's work bag, one in each room of their house and perhaps one at his mother's and one at hers, just to be safe. "I've got it."

Kate's breathing was even worse when he returned to the living room. She was making a strong effort to keep pulling air in and out slowly, but it didn't seem to be helping much. Her entire face was pale and drawn-out and her lips had turned completely blue. He was by her side in a flash, examining the bluish tips of her fingers and caressing her cheeks gently as she tried to inhale.

"Here, take this." She opened her mouth to reply but he beat her to it. "Don't speak, you need to save your breath, okay? It's just honey and I'm making you some tea. Mary said it would help." Kate opened her mouth, this time to take the spoon he was offering her without any complaint and swallowed heavily but dutifully. "After you take the tea, we're going to the A&E, alright?"

"No." Her voice was hoarse and you could hear the breathlessness behind it at the small word while her eyes filled with tears.

"Katie, please, don't cry. Please," He begged, cupping her cheek in his palm. Anthony despised seeing her in any form of pain and he was terrified she'd stop breathing right there in front of him. The only reason he still hadn't dragged her into the car and to an emergency room, tea and honey and slow breathing be damned, was that he knew she'd hate him for it. But if she continued to get progressively more blue and her breathing continued to wheeze that way, he might just let her hate him, if it meant she'd be alright. "I know you don't like the hospital and you don't like having to go there, but you need to breathe, darling. It's kind of a requirement to keep living. How can I marry you if you stop?"

Kate closed her eyes to fight the tears, a little chuckle escaping her as she inhaled deeply. "You have to propose first."

"Yeah, and I have the whole thing planned out, ring and everything." Anthony pressed his lips gently to her forehead, pushing her hair from her face. "But you need to have air in your lungs to say yes."

The room was silent for a moment, devoid of any sound but Kate's harsh intakes of breath before she whispered, "Okay."

"Okay?" She nodded, letting her head fall forwards until their foreheads were touching. "Thank you, sweetheart." He mumbled, kissing her nose and then the corner of her lips. "I'm going to get your tea, alright?"

"Alright." With one last kiss to the top of her head, he got up.

It was the fastest pot of tea Anthony'd ever made. Anthony was back at Kate's side with a steaming mug filled with strong tea in under a minute.

As his girlfriend sipped, painfully at first, on the hot drink, the wheezing in her breath seemed to diminish until it was barely there, her plump lips recovering their colour bit by bit until very little blue was left on it. By the time the mug was empty, Kate looked almost like her normal self, abate for her chest rising and falling in measured deep breaths and the pained look written on her features.

Anthony took the lilac ceramic mug from her hand and placed it on the centre table in front of them. Kate let herself fall against his side, looking drawn out and so very tired, her eyes closed as her entire body slumped into him.

"Would you like to change before going to the A&E?" He offered, rubbing her back up and down in soft, gentle strokes.

"No." Her reply was a husky whisper as she shook her head and Anthony could see the small bit of moist collecting in the corners of her closed eyes. He reached over, brushing the tears away before they could fully form.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry you have to go through this."

"I hate it." Kate's little angry complaint was swallowed by the fabric of his shirt as she pressed her nose to it. "It sucks, I hate it, I... I thought it was over." Her voice broke over the last word and Anthony enveloped her in his arms, one of his hands reaching up to caress her hair as the other continued its soothing up-and-down motion on her back. "My chest hurts."

"I know, love. I'm sorry." He kissed her forehead again, inhaling the flowery smell of her hair, basking in the feeling of her, warm and alive next to him, of her chest rising and falling against his.

"I don't want to have this." Kate sounded a little like a petulant child, angry and frustrated and Anthony deeply understood the feeling. He understood what was it like to feel as if you have no control over your own body, incapable of doing something that was supposed natural. When you needed your lungs, your limbs, your mind to do what they were made to do only to find them fighting you on every turn. It made you feel weak. It made you feel powerless.

"I know you don't." He kissed the top of her head, saying the words into her hair. "And I know you don't like going to the hospital, but I need you to do this. If not for yourself, for me. I can't see you like this, darling."

"I don't like the inhaler."

"I get it, alright? I'll call Uncle Nick and Aunt Georgie and ask for a recommendation for a good pulmonologist. The best one in the country. I'm sure there must be some treatment for asthma so you won't have to use the inhaler in the future. I have a very good allergist too, I take all of my siblings to her to get tested every three years. We can schedule an appointment with her as well." He pulled back to be able to look at her face, his index finger trailing over her jaw in a soft caress. "But right now, I'm going to need you to go to the A&E so you can get medicated and properly breathing since we have established that it is sort of an essential part of life and all."

"It's a bit important, yes." Kate laughed and the sound lifted the heavy weight that had settled over Anthony's chest since his eyes had fallen on her, breathless and wheezing this afternoon.

"And I'm going to have to insist you carry around an inhaler with you while we don't have a proper, safe treatment plan." Her nose wrinkled in distaste at his request that really was half an order, half a plea. "You scared the hell of out me, Kate."

"It wasn't that bad." It was clear from the grimace that followed her words that she wasn't fooling even herself.

"You looked blue, darling. Like that girl that chews gum in the Chocolate Factory movie that turns into a blueberry."

"She turns purple," Kate’s tone might have been deadpan, but her teeth had sunk into her bottom lip and she was trying to keep her laughter at bay at the ridiculous discussion just as much as he was.

"And you were one step away from looking purple. Plus, I could hear your wheezing from the hall. Newton heard it from the office with the door half-closed." The dog in question lifted his head from where it was resting on Kate's lap to nuzzle in her hand as if to agree with Anthony and his worries. "Please, Kate, for my sanity, if nothing else."

"I haven't had a bad crisis in a while." She told him, the hand that wasn't patting Newton's fun reaching out to his, enlacing their fingers together.

"Hopefully, for both our sakes, you'll never have another one. But just in case, so I can have some peace of mind, knowing that I won't get home to find you passed out on the floor, blue-faced and unable to breathe."

"You're very dramatic." She giggled, pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. "You're going to spread inhalers around the entire house, aren't you?"

"Yes." Anthony wasn't ashamed to admit it and Kate knew him too well for him to even try and lie about it.

"I'm sorry for scaring you." She whispered, pressing her cheek to his outstretched hand.

"Don't be." He whispered back, kissing the tip of her nose. "Just let me take care of you."

"You do. You take care of me very well." Kate spoke gently, nuzzling at his palm in a motion very similar to Newton's when he demanded pats. "It's the reason I love you so much. Well, one of them anyway."

"And yet, you keep fighting every step of the way." He whined as his fingers carted upwards, threading to the lush dark locks of her hair and her eyes fell shut in bliss over the caress.

"I love you even more because you keep doing it despite me fighting you every step of the way."

"You'd probably have to kill me to make me stop." He couldn't help but smile at Kate's sweet little content sigh. "But you could, maybe... Not fight it so much? You don't even have to help, just... let me do it every once in a while."

"Pot, kettle, honey." She grinned smugly, her eyebrows raising up even if her eyes remained firmly shut before her entire face contorted in a big yawn.

"Oh, no, Miss Sharma. You're not falling asleep on me here." Anthony stood quickly and Kate whimpered at the loss of him, her body falling down to the cushions slowly and a bit theatrically. He had his hands wrapped around her wrists before she could even lie down fully, tugging her to sit up. Newton let out a grumble of complaint when he lost his comfortable resting space. "We're going to the hospital before the tea effect ends and you start turning purple again."

"It's raining a lot." She complained, sitting up with a pout.

"Don't worry, the car is waterproof, I checked." When Kate was firmly on her two feet, he wrapped his arm around her waist, reaching out for the workbag she had abandoned by the door when she'd arrived and his wallet and keys without ever letting go of her.

"I'm really tired."

"The faster we're at the A&E, the faster we can return home. We can take a nap and order some food for dinner once we're back."

"Don't you have to work?" His girlfriend finally gave up on trying to convince him to let it go, allowing herself to melt into his embrace with a weary, drawn-out sigh as he walked them to the

"Whatever I have to do can wait until tomorrow." It wasn't exactly a lie as much as Anthony barely remembered what he had to get done to work that day. Everything but making sure Kate was alive and well had fled his brain the moment she arrived home. Anthony was not a person to take days off for just any reason and the amount of overtime he had put up for the company greatly outweighed the amount of time off he'd gotten in the years he'd been working there. He was sure his boss would understand.

"But...."

"Hush." He told her as he deposited her safely in the passenger seat, pressing a quick kiss to her pursed lips. "Everything else can wait. You're my priority. Always."

#my writing #asks #bridgerton #my fic #kathony #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #modern au #Asthma AU #Medical emergencies #Kate has asthma #Protective Anthony

20 notes · View notes

hummingbird-of-light · 1 month

Text

In Our Favor

Part 169

McCoy

McCoy stretched as he stood. Their shuttle had just touched down and the prince was ready to be on solid ground again. He and Scotty had spent most of the flight working on their homework and catching up on their reading. All McCoy wanted was to stretch out in bed and go to sleep.

Campus was quiet but that was to be expected at the very late hour. Five pairs of footsteps crossed the grounds of Starfleet, heading towards the dorms. David had sent Andre and his ‘Team Alpha’ to bring them back to the academy. In another day or so the undercover team would be in place. McCoy didn’t want to think about that anymore than he had too.

McCoy pushed open their dorm door and held it for Scotty. Andre grabbed the door from him and held it for Anthony and Averie.

“You may wait here,” Andre said to the other two guards.

McCoy frowned. “Aren’t you going now?”

“The king wants you escorted to your room and the room checked,” Andre answered apologetically.

McCoy sighed. “Fine,” he muttered.

Andre followed McCoy and Scotty into the elevator.

“S’alright love,” Scotty said softly and squeezed McCoy’s hand. McCoy gave a tiny nod.

On their floor they got out and walked to their room. Scotty tapped in their code, then followed McCoy in as the door opened.

“There. Empty. Good?” McCoy turned back to look at Andre.

“Len…,” Scotty scolded gently.

“Yes sir,” Andre said after peeking into the bathroom. “I can report to the king with a clear conscience.”

“Andre— I’m- I’m sorry,” McCoy said. “It’s not you. It’s just—”

“I understand sir,” Andre said, lifting a hand to stop McCoy. “I can imagine it feels stifling to be under royal protection again. We’ll be as unobtrusive as we can. Good night sir. Mr. Scott-McCoy.”

“Good night,” Scotty called as Andre left. He moved and dropped his bag on his desk chair. Then he stepped over to McCoy and hugged him.

“I’m sorry,” McCoy said, dropping his face against Scotty’s neck. He knew he had been acting like an ass.

“It’s been a long day and yer always tense after a flight,” Scotty said.

“I shouldn’t take it out on others. It’s not Andre’s fault and he does his job well.”

“Aye love. Come on, let’s get to bed. Get some sleep at least before morning comes too soon.”

“Ok,” McCoy said, resting his forehead against Scotty’s for a moment, before letting go of the Scotsman.

He had already dropped his own bag by the desks and sat down on the bed to kick his shoes off. Quickly he undressed and got under the covers.

“Why does it have to be cold everywhere?” McCoy complained, pulling the covers up around himself.

Scotty laughed. “Maybe if ye wore some pajamas…”

McCoy made a face as Scotty climbed into the bed next to him. “Pajamas would just make more work.” He grinned and gave Scotty a knowing look.

“Well, not tonight,” Scotty chuckled. “We have to be up for class in a few hours.”

“Oh fine,” McCoy pretended to pout.

“Oh stop ye big baby,” Scotty’s voice was amused as he stretched across McCoy to turn out the light.

“That’s not fair,” McCoy grunted at Scotty’s weight on him.

Scotty stopped on his way back to his side of the bed to kiss McCoy.

“As if ye don’t get enough of me,” Scotty said. “I’ll make it up to ye on the weekend.”

“Good,” McCoy said. “I’ll hold you to it.”

“But I suppose for now, just hold ye?”

“Yes,” McCoy said, snuggling closer and getting his head down by Scotty’s chest.

“Can do mo ghràdh.”

Part 170

Scotty

When he woke up in the morning Scotty was confused for a moment, wondering where he was, but he quickly remembered that Leonard and him had returned to San Francisco the night before.

They had been accompanied by Andre and his team who would keep an eye on them until the undercover team was set up. Even though it felt weird to be under protection again, Scotty couldn't deny that it kinda eased his mind a bit. Knowing that Leonard was safe was very important to him and he trusted the royal security team a lot. Aye, they hadn't been able to protect Leah from the attack, but that was just because there had been so many rebels.

"Morning," a soft voice and the sound of the covers rustling next to him caught Scotty's attention and he rolled his head to the side to meet his husband's beautiful eyes. A smile formed on his lips as he thought about the first time they had been that close. The first time he had drowned in that gorgeous mixture of green and blue.

"Madainn mhath, mo ghràdh." Scotty moved closer to Leonard and allowed for their foreheads to touch. Gentle kisses quickly followed, but they both knew that they didn't have time for that. They needed to get up and dressed for classes.

"You know, we could just call in sick for today. That way no one can see Andre and the others around us," Leonard mused, sighing.

Scotty chuckled softly at that idea. He had expected something like that to come from his love.

"Oh? I didn't know that ye're feeling sick. I suppose it would be for the best if I stay far away from ye then, huh?" The Scotsman pulled his head backwards, acting like Leonard was somehow infectious and the prince groaned.

"I know. I know. We have to get back to classes. Can't miss too much stuff."

"Aye, that's right. And I'm pretty sure that our friends want to see us. Especially Chris."

Leonard sighed yet again before he finally rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

"Alright. Fine." He looked back at Scotty. "But you owe me a lot this weekend."

The Scotsman only rolled his eyes. That was just the man he had married.

Andre hadn't lied when he had said that Team Alpha would try to be as unobtrusive as possible. They kept their distance, acting like they were just visitors at the academy for a day, but were never too far away from Leonard and Scotty.

When they entered the dining hall, Christine was already waving at the boys from afar. Keenser, Nyota and Cora were sitting with her and when Leonard and Scotty sat down, they were greeted cheerfully.

"It's so good to see the two of you. Did you have a good flight?" Uhura asked and Scotty nodded.

"Exhausting, but good. We managed to catch up with some homework."

From the corner of his eye Scotty noticed Cora leaning over to Leonard.

"How is your sister doing? Eugene and I heard about it too, of course," she quietly asked and the prince gave her a gentle smile.

"She's doing better, thanks." Leonard looked around. "Where is Eugene anyway?"

"Oh, he needs to finish a project last minute. But he told me that he's looking forward to seeing you in class." Cora was smiling, a soft blush on her cheeks as she talked about her boyfriend. Their love was still so fresh.

"I see."

Slowly more and more friends joined them, everyone asking about Leah and Robbie too.

Scotty was kinda surprised by the hard glare Jim gave them. He apparently couldn't believe that they hadn't called him, but the Scotsman was quite certain that he'd get over it quickly.

Aporal was the last to join them. He greeted them with a nod, but didn't say anything. It didn't matter. Scotty was just happy that he was sitting with them.

#star trek #montgomery scott #leonard mccoy #scones #au #in our favor

4 notes · View notes

smoothbydangelo · 6 months

Text

injury reserve, drive it like it's stolen (2017)

i can't place where i first heard injury reserve. i remember that i found them through their self-titled album in the summer of 2019. knowing 14 y/o me, my guess is i heard of them through a fantano review. at that point in summer 2019 i was obsessed with clipping. they were the first experimental hip hop group i listened to and their sound blew my mind (shoutout my best friend cam, he showed me clipping. in eighth grade). i wanted to find more music like clipping. so when i first listened to injury reserve (the album) i was stoked. they had something about them that made me an instant fan. i still come back to that album every so often and fall back in love with it.

injury reserve dominated my summer 2019 and followed me into my freshman year of high school. i started delving into their back catalogue that year and loved floss, live from the dentist office, and drive it like it's stolen, though their self-titled remained my favorite. floss and live from the dentist office became staples in my rotation that year.

when i heard about groggs's passing in 2020 my heart was broken. over the past year they had quickly became one of my favorite active groups and to find out that someone as young and full of life as groggs was no longer with us hit me pretty hard. i stopped listening to their music until late 2020 because it just became too sad.

when they announced by the time i get to phoenix i didn't know how to feel. part of me was so happy to hear new music from a group who's entire discography had excited me. another part of me was unsure of if i would even want to hear new music and be reminded of grogg's passing. i listened to "superman that" and realized i wasn't going to be able to make it through this new album. even as i'm writing this, i haven't heard any other songs from it. i don't know if i ever will.

injury reserve has been on my mind a lot recently because i met this guy in college who loves music. his name is anthony. he's a nice dude. knows way more about music than i probably ever will. a week or so ago we had a conversation about injury reserve which took me down this exact memory lane. through that chat i realized that i hadn't heard drive it like it's stolen in forever. i listened to it a couple times when i first got into them in 2019, but i couldn't remember a single song off of it except "see you sweat," which i didn't remember being too fond of.

i listened to the album in full this morning while i was writing an essay. i got sidetracked pretty quickly because this album is incredible. it doesn't compare to my memory of it at all. i think the minimalist production made this album seem bland to me when i was expecting something as explosive as their self-titled when i first heard it. parker's production never fails to catch my ears. i'm listening to "boom (x3)" right now and the piano sample is gorgeous and perfectly juxtaposed to the bombastic drums and verses.

if i had to use one word to describe this album it would be "understated." the choruses are simple and far from eye-catching. more than any of their other albums, drive it like you stole it really just feels like two guys rapping. parker's production is great but it takes a backseat to ritchie's and groggs's verses.

nothing highlights this better than "north pole." this song is a million things. it's really sad. it's mature. it might be my favorite song on the album. it's probably the best beat on the album. ritchie's verse makes me cry. especially the last three lines where he talks about his loved ones who have passed watching over him write and perform his songs.

after "north pole" comes "colors," which also might be my favorite song on the album. now it's groggs's verse that makes me cry. especially when he says that life isn't supposed to be perfect, it's supposed to be lived. jesus man what a loss. i just know that guy had so much more to say.

this album places more focus on lyricism than any other project from injury reserve. i think that's really brave. parts of this album make me feel like i'm at an open mic hearing someone read their poetry to a room of a dozen people. i think part of that feeling can be attributed to its brevity. it's only seven songs at 20 minutes.

i don't think this is a perfect album. "see you sweat" still isn't one of my favorite injury reserve songs. it kinda feels out of place on this record. it's not awful or anything, just kinda feels like a floss leftover.

overall though, i think drive it like it's stolen is incredible. these guys have something to say on this album. i hope that putting so much of their pain into their music was cathartic for them. maybe this is wishful thinking but i found an underlying optimism in this album, like ritchie and groggs knew that their past fuck-ups didn't define them. that pain is temporary. that progress isn't linear and "perfect" is unattainable.

i hope that parker and ritchie are doing well. i know that they started something called "bye storm" recently but i haven't looked into it. i think i might though. rediscovering injury reserve has made me think about a lot. i wasn't in the right headspace to listen to by the time i get to phoenix when they released it. but a lot has changed since then. i'm doing a lot better. i live three hours away from where i grew up. i have a different area code and new friends and hobbies. maybe i should check by the time i get to phoenix out. i'll think about it.

#music #album review #rap

5 notes · View notes

newtonsheffield · 2 years

Note

So excited about the new Yours To Tame and Bruises chapters! Any spice from either of those this lovely Sunday? 😈

Ahhh let's see Kate and VampAnthony taking a bath.

Kate had never really thought of bathing as a sexy act before she'd been with Anthony. It had been a means to an end and in fact, when one of her ex had wiggled his eyebrows with his lips on her neck and said Wanna share a shower? She'd sighed and shrugged and said I'm kind running late for a class. But the first morning she'd woken up with Anthony on top of her, his body pressing her into the mattress something had felt different.

She'd chuckled as she'd caught Anthony's lips smiling against them. "You didn't turn to dust over night."

Anthony had groaned pulling her tighter against his chest. "You're soft. And that's a myth."

They'd stayed that way for a long moment, wrapped up together until Kate had finally sighed. "I'm gonna go for a shower and pop out for some coffee. You can stay if you like."

Anthony's head had shot up, his lips already nipping at her neck. "I can't come with you?"

"If you want you can, I won't be long in the shower."

He'd nuzzled at her again, chuckling as her heart hammered in her chest and hips bucked against his. "Or i could shower with you."

And she would have said no, normally she would have already brushed him off, especially after one night together but instead she'd found herself nodding against him, found herself gasping as his arms tightened around her and he darted through to the bathroom. She'd fallen apart with his warm body pressing her against the cool tile with her legs around his waist as the hot water beat down on them and there hadn't been any going back.

Anthony seemed to thrive on it. On the different textures of their skin under the water, in the soft way he would look at her afterwards, nuzzling against her neck gently, as though he was taking in her scent before he'd hold her under the water so gently.

And it didn't seem to embarrass him at all, the closeness he wanted to feel in these moments.

"I want to take a bath with you."

"Um- What?" Kate couldn't help but feel a little startled as they lay together on her sofa, her pencil moving over the sketchpad as she tried to capture his furrowed brow. "You want a shower?"

"No. I want a bath."

Kate clicked her tongue. "Tough luck buddy, I don't have one."

"I have a bath." Anthony rolled his eyes kissing her forehead, his fingertips trailing along her midriff. "A lovely bath big enough for two."

Kate's breath caught in her chest. "I've told you, we are not fucking where your mum can hear us. That woman terrifies me."

"The bedrooms and ensuites are soundproofed." his lips nipped at her neck. "It'll be nice."

"Why is this important to you?" Kate had chuckled shaking her head, and she hadn't expected Anthony's voice to be so serious.

"Our scents mingle in the water. You can't tell, I know you can't but when we're together like that, even in the shower, the water transfers my scent to your body and vice versa. It would be stronger in a bath."

There was something so oddly sweet in that, even though she knew from the distasteful way Anthony's siblings sniffed the air around her, even from the way Violet had sighed as they'd had tea last week Kate Darling, perhaps you've a jacket you could put on that Anthony's scent was already heavily on her skin. Something in the way he wanted everyone to know he was hers as much as she was his. Marking himself in the way she couldn't, and she hadn't been able to say no.

So here she was now, as was their Sunday routine, after dinner with his family, sitting in the warm water together until it cooled.

Anthony hadn't been lying, the bathtub in what he called an ensuite (It was nearly the size of Kate's entire flat) at his house was an enormous polished copper thing. Standing on clawed feet in the middle of the bathroom. Deep enough and long enough that Kate could sit completely submerged between Anthony's legs, his hands massaging her back gently.

A moan rose in Kate's throat as Anthony's lips fell to her neck, his tongue tracing the shape his teeth had left there.

"That feels nice."

Her voice was a little breathless, echoing around the room, in contrast to Anthony's deep growl. "It feels very nice."

"I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be a feminist when you're over 200."

Anthony chuckled, one of his arms wrapping around her waist, tugging her back tighter against his chest. "Oh I can assure you, this is exactly how I'm supposed to treat you."

His other hand trailed around the curve of her hip squeezing tightly before it trailed down, tickling over her thighs in the warm water.

The moan fell from her chest before she could stop it, echoing off the tile as his hand slipped between her legs.

Anthony!

He chuckled in her ear as his hand moved more instantly against her, his hips starting a slow grind behind her

Yes?

Already the heat of it was overwhelming, the presence of his firm body, solid behind her, his arms like vices as his hands groped and kneaded at her flesh, his teeth still nipping at her neck. From that very first night there had never been anything like this. Nothing like the slide of their bodies together and the way their hearts beat together, and every inch of her ached to be his forever.

Should I stop, Kate?

She shook her head, a desperate gasp torn from her throat as her hips bucked against his hand.

Say something Kate. Or I'll have to stop.

His voice was relentless in her ear, just like his hand between her legs and the own on her chest holding her in place as he forced pleasure from her body.

"Please don't stop. Please Anthony, please." It shuddered from her chest with a heave of her shoulders, her hips grinding in place against him, spine shivering as Anthony chuckled in her ear at her reaction to him.

He quickened his pace, his fingers moving relentlessly against her, into her, faster and faster until-

anthony!

Kate fell apart with a gasp, shuddering against Anthony, turning her head at the last moment, claiming his lips with hers to muffle the shout.

Kate took a shuddering breath, her entire body on fire in a way that had nothing to do with the heat of the water they were in. She raised herself up turning until she was straddling his waist, claiming Anthony's lips again, swallowing the moans that fell from his lips.

Fuck, Kate!

Anthony's eyes rolled back in his head as their bodies joined, both of them stilling for a long moment as they fought for control. Fought to hold on to this moment and all the ones to follow. A muscle clenched in Anthony's jaw as he breathed deeply, his fingers tightening on her waist as their eyes met and finally, they moved.

It felt relentless already, before that first snap of his hips was even done. He'd told her, how overwhelming their bond made sex for him. How he felt everything a hundred times more intensely than he ever had before and truly, it felt no different for her. She could feel his heart beating erratically under her fingers, smell the spicy scent of his cologne, feel his skin sliding against hers, feel the sweat building on his skin just like it was on hers.

The water was lapping at their skin with every movement, splashing to the floor all around them, the sound mingling with the gasps and moans and raw calls of their names until their was nothing left, nothing left but the way his eyes burned into hers and his fingers intertwined with his, as their hips ground together in the flickering candlelight.

The fire between them was building to an inferno raging higher and higher, tearing at her skin, burning her like the scar across Anthony's chest.

That's it Kate. God you look so fucking beautiful like this, Babe. Come on. You can let go, I'll catch you.

Kate fell apart with a sharp shout, tugging Anthony forward until he was nestled against her neck, his hips stuttering desperately until he fell apart with a shout, his teeth sinking into her neck and everything went still.

Anthony's eyes were glazed when he pulled back after a long moment, the way they always were when he fed from her like this. When he felt her pleasure along with his and it slowed his movements into something lazy and tender.

"You liked that."

Kate sighed, catching his lips with hers. "Yes, I liked that. I don't know why you're surprised. I always like that."

Anthony chuckled, nuzzling at her neck gently, with a soft kiss. "It's like a little round of applause. It's nice."

She couldn't help but laugh, kissing the end of his nose. "What do you think? Sufficiently scented?"

Anthony nodded, grinning smugly. "Yes. I'm suffiencietly scented."

And truly, Kate didn't feel embarrassed of the closeness either. Until that was, she sat in the Bridgerton's living room the next afternoon and Anthony's mother hummed.

"Anthony, Darling, I promise I do understand being newly mated is very... intoxicating but the maids have started to complain that the floor of your bathroom is like a swimming pool."

#yours to tame #spicy sunday🌶#kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

111 notes · View notes

eddysocs · 2 years

Text

Cure For What Ails You (Anthony Bridgerton x OC)

Summary: Marianne is having a tough time with her second pregnancy, and Anthony is at a loss for how to make her feel better, but he knows someone who may be able to help.

Word Count: 1,033

Warnings: Pregnancy, Morning Sickness, Nausea

Anthony dismounted his horse after his early morning ride, something that had become a habit of his as of late, and made his way back inside the warmth of his home. Aubrey Hall had been revitalized for him since he welcomed Marianne into it as his viscountess and that had only become truer when they welcomed their first child, Thackery.

Yet now, pregnant with their second child, discontentment had been sewn within the walls of Aubrey Hall as Marianne was having a far more trying pregnancy than her last. Anthony had left her that morning, his wife peacefully asleep, and had gone about his morning ride hoping things had finally settled down. When he returned, it was to a pale, exhausted looking Marianne, sat at the window with Thackery playing with his favorite cavalry soldier at her feet.

"Another bout of sickness," Anthony asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

Marianne managed only a nod and even that brought a touch of the nausea back which she swallowed back down. She was hoping the rising sun would bring some of the color back into her skin and energy back into her body. She’d been suffering with morning sickness for several weeks to varying degrees of severity. She’d only thrown up once when carrying Thackery and she could not fathom why this time was so much worse.

Anthony came to sit across from her at the small table. He reached out his hand, placing it atop hers, the only gesture he could think to make in the moment. He was beside himself with worry. He was reminded of his mother's last pregnancy. Hyacinth, though she was not at any sort of fault, had almost killed her.

"What is that look on your face, Anthony," Marianne asked when his eyebrows became furrowed and the smile he’d meant to be reassuring dissolved into a haunted looking frown.

He brought himself out of the past with a shake of his head and his eyes focused once more on those of his wife. "I am just worried for your health. If my mother was not out in London trying to get Eloise married off yet again, perhaps she could bring you more reassurance than I."

"Then write to her, Anthony. I know you cannot be with me and Thackery all the time, so maybe, if your mother is agreeable, she could take some of the weight off of your shoulders. Temporarily."

He let out a short sigh, realizing the folly of his words and how Marianne may misconstrue them. "I hadn’t meant—"

"I know what you meant, and I can’t say I'd mind having an extra hand for a few days. Hopefully by then, this will have passed and we can resume as normal. Then our biggest worry can be what to name our new baby."

A tired but agreeable smile crossed Anthony's face, and he left to pen a letter to his mother to be delivered with the utmost haste later that very day. In three days time, Marianne was faring very much the same, but Violet had shown early that morning to quell Marianne's fears.

"Violet, how nice to see you," Marianne greeted as pleasantly as she was able. She began to walk herself carefully over to her favored seat by the window. Her ankles had swollen, and coupled with the back pain she was experiencing that morning, it was making it excessively difficult to move. Violet wasted no time in coming to her aid, keeping her balanced until she was able to find the familiar comfort of her heavily pillowed chair.

"I was just like you are now when I was expecting Colin. Sick day and night, some days felt worse than others, but all of them felt as if I’d never survive them." The look of panic that colored Marianne's otherwise pallid features must have given Violet pause. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to regale you with horror stories. It was awful, but one morning I woke up and it was all gone. Pregnancy is a funny thing like that. You never know quite what to expect, no matter how many times you’ve been expecting."

"I think perhaps my limit may be two. This little one has given me more trouble than a brood worth of children, and the little darling is currently playing havoc on my bladder. If you will excuse me."

Violet nodded. "Of course, dear. I’m all too familiar with that as well. I shall be here all day if and when you need me."

"Could you just keep an eye on Thackery while I’m away?"

"As if you even needed to ask." Already she was headed over to the two year old who was inexorably happy to see his grandmother. He’d always been partial to her, even as a newborn. Marianne really couldn’t blame him. If anyone were an expert on babies, it would undoubtedly be Violet Bridgerton.

As she made her way back to her son and mother in law, she found herself already more at ease than she had been in the past several weeks. She sat with them, though lowering herself onto the settee had been a challenge. She watched Thackery play. He’d been so clingy since she’d been ill that he hardly left her side, but now it seemed he felt comfortable enough to enjoy his toys more, and Marianne couldn’t help but credit Violet for such improvement in them both.

"You seem worlds better than when I arrived a few short hours ago. I should not want to sour your improvement by addressing it, but I think you may be over the hill of your illness."

Marianne thought on it a moment. The nausea had almost entirely dissipated in the past hour, so maybe Violet was onto something. She smiled contentedly. "I suppose you could be right. I don’t know what magic you possess, but if it gets worse again, I hope I can call on you."

"You may always do so, Marianne. You're family, and we Bridgertons are a tight knit group. If you are in need you will always have my support, and support from the rest of us as well."

Forever Tag: @arrthurpendragon, @borg-queer, @foxesandmagic, @connietheecunning, @chickensarentcheap, @sicktember

Marianne Hardwell: @dancingwith-sunflowers, @dollvi3e

#oc: marianne hardwell #fc: lottie tolhurst #fd: bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x oc #bridgerton #sicktember 2022

24 notes · View notes

dil-ibaadat · 2 years

Note

“If you die, I’m gonna kill you.”

Kanthony PLEASE

ooh, spicy.

set post-engagement:

Anthony Bridgerton loves his family. Really, he does. He has spent his life molding himself in the image of his beloved father, the consummate family man. And while he perhaps doesn't quite have the patience and emotional awareness that Edmund Bridgerton possessed, he likes to believe that he's done his best.

But sometimes, he thinks that the sweet, sweet satisfaction of being able to wring the necks of his idiot younger brothers might be worth the consequent trip to the gallows.

But then, when Anthony gazes into the pair of golden, syrup-brown eyes in front of him, currently narrowed in thin slits of fury, he thinks:

Nothing is worth leaving this. Kate. Not the rage-inducing meddling and general idiocy of his family's antics, nor his own, still-crippling fear of love and what it can move him to do for those he feels it for, not even his own status as a gentleman -- the source of his and his family's honor.

He would happily endure anything, give up anything to be alive. To be alive and be with Kate.

If only he could convince her of that.

"You dueled Simon?"

"Kate-"

"An actual duel?"

"Yes," Benedict nods, an insolent grin plastered on his face.

"With the guns, and the- the walking ten paces away from one another, and slapping each other in the cheek with a glove to signify your declaration of senseless violence."

"No, Anthony doesn't wear gloves," Colin corrects. "But the rest is accurate, yes. Or so I heard. I wasn't asked to be there."

"Oh, for the umpteenth time, Colin, you were but twenty years of age and someone had to stay behind to take care of Mother and the rest of the family. Anthony only asked me because I was the elder, that is all!"

Colin sniffs. "You two always do this! You go off on your little adventures and leave me behind with the rest of the family like I'm some child!"

"You are not a child-"

"Will you two imbeciles shut up?" Anthony barks.

"You will not yell at them for daring to tell me the truth!" Kate stops her pacing of the Bridgerton sitting room and puts her hands behind her back.

"Messrs Bridgerton, I require a moment with your brother. Would you be so kind as to give us a few minutes to speak privately?"

Benedict and Colin exchange glances with each other. They should protest, having been made nominal chaperones by Mother, who had unfortunately taken ill and was unable to receive Kate when Anthony brought her to Bridgerton House that morning. But after turning to look at Anthony, they immediately scurry out of the room without another word.

His patented my-tolerance-of-your-idiocy-has-ended-and-I-suggest-you-start-running-now gaze still works on them.

Good.

Anthony turns in his armchair to face Kate.

"Darling, if you would just let me explain-"

"Is this what I am to expect?" Kate asks.

He blinks.

"What is?"

"For the rest of our marriage? Is this what you are going to do? That anytime someone slights your precious honor, you shall engage in senseless acts of violence, risking either exile or death, both scenarios in which you will leave me?"

"Kate," Anthony says.

"I know you are a proud man, Anthony. It is- inevitable that you will once again land yourself in some scandal which provokes you to respond in such a fashion. And I know I am a strong woman. I have faced the prospect of raising a family on my own before. I believe in duty. I cherish it. I will not abdicate my role as mother or sister or Viscountess, even in your absence.

But this is not what you promised me. This is not a life suits the both of us. It does not suit me.

Anthony, I don't want to be left alone again. I can't."

She wraps two arms around herself, and it is such an unexpected show of vulnerability that he feels like the worst cad. Wishes he could kill the past apparition of himself that was such a reckless fool, that didn't know the great gift that would ride into his pathetic life on horseback not even a year later.

Anthony rises from his chair and rushes to her, enveloping her rigid frame in his arms.

"No," she whimpers. "Stop. I know what you are doing." Her hands nevertheless wind themselves around his neck as she presses her nose to his covered collarbone.

He inhales. Sucks in hot breaths and the unmistakable scent of lilies and sandalwood soap and Kate. He should hold her the way a gentleman would - politely, tenderly, with care for her limbs and extremities. Instead he crushes her to his chest, leaving no room for air between their bodies, fervently searching for some way to permanently attach her to his side.

Matrimony is not enough. Nothing will ever be strong enough to ensure that she always stays by his side, near his reach, in his arms. He must do it himself. He must show her that it is not a possibility that even exists for him - that he would ever, willingly leave her.

"You think there is anything in this world that could tear me away from you? Kate, you have humbled me so thoroughly that my existence, my heart, my honor- they are all tied to you. Irrevocably. I could not leave you. I could not."

"If anything ever happened to you-"

"And if anything ever happened to you?" Anthony smiles gently at Kate's flush of embarrassment. "It is a risk we shall simply have to bear. I have learned that now. But I cannot play wantonly with my life anymore, Kate. The man who did- he was a fool."

"A fool," Kate mumbles against his chest. "I hate him. He almost took you away from me."

"I have sympathy for him," Anthony explains. "The life he had was empty, devoid of meaning."

Devoid of you.

"But things are different now," he whispers, pressing a kiss to Kate's forehead.

"I should hope so. I'm not ever going to let you do something so foolish again."

"Foolish? Me?" Anthony feigns shock. "Like what?"

"Like growing those awful mutton chops Daphne described to me at lunch today. Or dying."

"And what is it that you would do to stop me?" Not that he requires any action on her part, but he can't resist it. He finds nothing more adorable- or terrifying- than when she threatens him.

Kate taps his nose. "I'll kill you."

"You'll kill me if I die? How would that even work?" Anthony's smirk prompts Kate's hand to wander down from his nose and poke the dimple that curves around his mouth. He takes the offending finger and gently bites it, relishing the darkening of her doe eyes as she finally cracks a small, sly smile.

"Oh, hush you," Kate says. "I'm allowed to be illogical. I'm in love."

Anthony presses his mouth to her forehead again, blinking furiously as his eyes begin to sting. They stand in the middle of the sitting room, swaying together with their arms around the other until Anthony's idiot brothers traipse back into the room and force them to part.

For now.

He's the lucky man whom she'll approach at the altar, after all. And then hang everyone, he will keep his wife settled against his side for the rest of his- very, very long, if Kate has anything to say about it- life.

#anon #my fic #bridgerton #tumblr prompt #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #kanthony

41 notes · View notes