#i'm screaming incoherently rn so it probably doesn't make sense but also like.... it says exactly what it needs to say alright?

[olive-recs]

also!!!! because i’m absent minded and forgot to mention it: 

can we pLEASE just recognize, understand, appreciate, and praise the complexity and the genius of these two lines:

For once, neither cared about who saw and whether or not they ended up in the middle of a scandal. Perhaps it would be good if they did - if society decided their future for them.

like !!!!!!! damn !!!!! the turmoil and desperation that goes into just,,,, letting someone else decide heightens the premise and the feelings of this fic so beautifully and expertly. how much there must be between them to just decide that if it falls someone else’s hands it’s fine, and say so unabashedly that it couldn’t have ended any other way....... to just be like,,,, i want this so bad a scandal can’t ruin me any more than this,,,,, and a scandal could decide for me because there’s too much here for me to think rationally or emotionally or any other way,,,,

just.... so. many. thoughts. i’m screaming over these two lines.

it's a bad idea, me and you

requested by @magpiencrow: CONGRATS ON LITERALLY EVERYTHING!!! 🥳 also #24 is just destined for bridgerton <3

A/N: I've fallen back in love with Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and all his grumpy so I had to write to him. Lovers to enemies to lovers, anyone? Also this is the closest you will ever get to smut from me so take it and be happy

Y/N moved her rook across the chessboard into a blank square. Daphne narrowed her eyes at the board and moved her knight.

It was a surprisingly quiet Friday morning considering it was the height of the social season. But that was perhaps down to the fact that Daphne was now married and had no real need to participate as much as before.

They were sat in the warmth of the drawing-room, the windows thrown open to let in the summer breeze that danced with the net curtains hung in front of each window. It was calm and peaceful and everything Y/N needed after the last year.

"Who taught you chess?" Y/N asked quietly, contemplating her next move with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Anthony. He was the chess master when we were growing up," Daphne replied, leaning back in her chair. "He also cheated but, that is beside the point."

Y/N chuckled softly. "Sounds like him. Cheater in games and love."

Daphne raised her eyebrows slightly, letting out an almost silent sigh. "He is not that bad."

"I did not say he was bad. I merely said he was a cheater." Y/N moved another rook. "He acts as if every woman in the ton is below him - as if finding a reputable wife is not worth his time."

"He has what the majority of men do not - brothers."

Y/N laughed. Loudly. "Please. Benedict Bridgerton and Colin Bridgerton are lovely but neither are looking for a wife - they are happier flirting with every young lady within a mile radius. Anthony must be kidding himself if he thinks your reputation can succeed with them."

"Why do you hate my brother so much?"

"Which one?"

Daphne chuckled, leaning forward and moving a rook. "Anthony. Every time he is in the room or he comes up in conversation you begin insulting him with words I associate with hate."

"I do not."

"You do too."

Y/N placed the chess piece down a little too hard, knocking over three other pieces as she did so. "Daphne, as much as I respect and love you, please change the subject."

"Yes, of course." She righted a fallen piece. "Are you going to Lady Cowper's ball tonight?"

"Unfortunately - despite how much I despise the woman, she does throw a good ball."

Daphne hummed. "Anthony's going."

Y/N almost threw the entire table over. "Daphne."

"I am simply stating who is going," Daphne replied calmly, completely unphased. "Benedict is also going. As is Colin. As am I."

"Oh, good, I can throw a glass of lemonade at you." Y/N moved another piece - neither one of them was actually playing properly now, they were simply moving chess pieces around a board.

"He's not as bad -"

"Daphne, why are you so determined to sell your eldest brother to me?" Y/N asked, leaning back in her chair, raising her eyebrows. "You have been complimenting him every time I have come over for the past three months."

"I simply think that you have a misguided opinion of him," Daphne replied, her words obviously carefully chosen.

Y/N leant forward and moved her queen. "Of course. I did use to like your brother."

"I know."

Until..."

"I know." Daphne opened her mouth to speak and Y/N braced herself. "But he has changed, Y/N, if you -"

A knock on the door cut Daphne off before she could finish her sentence - something Y/N was grateful for. Until Anthony Bridgerton walked into the room, hands clasped behind his back, a beaming smile on his face as he looked at his sister, oblivious to Y/N's presence.

"Anthony! What a pleasant surprise!" Daphne exclaimed, standing up and approaching her brother, engulfing him in a tight hug. "I thought you were busy with business."

"I am but I was passing and decided to come by and check on you," Anthony said, pressing a kiss to Daphne's cheek.

He stepped back and turned his head to the right, his eyes stopping as he finally noticed Y/N's presence in the room.

"Miss Y/L/N."

"Lord Bridgerton."

The loving atmosphere had vanished like a candle being snuffed out. Y/N swallowed and sniffed quietly, looking down at her dress, avoiding Anthony's gaze.

"Yes, anyway, things to do, people to see..." He reached out and squeeze Daphne's shoulder. "See you tonight, Daff."

And with that, Anthony was gone.

Daphne looked over at Y/N. "You hate him."

Y/N looked up at her with burning eyes. She shrugged. "Perhaps." Leaning forward, she began to reset the chess board. "To be honest, Daphne, I do not think I entirely know how I feel. Now, shall we play properly, this time? No cheating."

"Ah, I don't cheat," Daphne exclaimed indignantly, sitting back down.

"Oh, you do, I watched you move my piece back to where it was."

The game began again but Y/N was paying even less attention than before. Her eyes strayed to the door where, minutes before, a smiling Anthony Bridgerton had walked in. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him smile.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him smile at her.

Despite the rain outside and despite Lady Cowper's notorious ability to be spiteful and cruel, the house and ballroom looked like it had come out of a fairytale. Pink walls, roses and decorations littered every piece of empty space visible and the candles provide warmth and light to the room.

Almost every woman was wearing a variation of pink. Lady Cowper had sent out strict instructions in the invites for the women to wear pink and for the men to wear black and white.

And the result was a see of pink dotted with black dots - much like a bee visiting a rose.

Y/N stepped out her carriage, accepting her mother's outstretched hand, and climbed down the step onto the paved ground. She looked up at the outside of Cowper House, eyes wide with awe.

There were roses of pink and white nestled amongst green foliage shaped into an arch around the front door, lanterns sitting at either end. Gentle, soft music was emitting from inside the house and there were many excited gasps as more people arrived, staring up at the house.

There was a reason Lady Cowper had yet to be ostracized from the ton despite her rude behaviour. She knew how to throw an almost perfect ball.

Y/N and her mother walked inside, following many others dressed in pink and silver, their chaperones dressed similarly or in black and white.

The floor was littered with rose petals and candles and lanterns, all guiding the way to the main ballroom where even more flowers waited.

She spotted Anthony instantly.

It was hard not to spot the three chestnut-haired men standing awkwardly next to their mother as she introduced them to yet another young woman. Y/N almost laughed at the identical looks of boredom, despair and annoyance the three were wearing.

"Y/N!"

She turned around and instantly a smile appeared as Daphne practically ran up to her - her bemused husband following behind. Y/N hugged Daphne and held her by the shoulders, looking down at her dark pink gown, her eyes snagging on the baby bump just beginning to appear.

"Oh, you are not, are you?" Y/N asked, looking back up at her.

Daphne hit her husband on the arm. "I told you it was too small."

"Nonsense. We want people to know," Simon said fondly, a hand straying to the bump as he kissed Daphne's head.

"You two are sickeningly sweet," Y/N said, a disgusted expression on her face. "Who knows?"

"My mother - we were waiting to tell everyone else about the - Anthony!"

Y/N didn't dare turn around. She smelt him before she felt his presence. The deep scent of his cologne mixed with smoke, whiskey and something sweet. He came to a stop on her right, his jacket sleeve brushing the bare skin between where her sleeve ended and her white, silk gloves began.

She could barely breathe.

"Daphne, you look beautiful," Violet said, blissfully unaware of the panic attack her eldest son was giving Y/N by simply standing next to her. "Simon, as do you."

"I told you pink was my colour," Simon said, preening ever so slightly.

"Yes, Hastings, pink compliments your skin tone beautifully," Anthony said dryly. "Why Cowper chose pink of all colours is beyond me."

"It's her favourite colour."

Y/N didn't realise she'd spoken until four sets of eyes were staring at her. She cleared her throat quietly. "She always has some element of pink on her in whatever she wears - as does Cressida. Pink is the Cowper family colour like blue is the Bridgerton's."

"Blue is not our family colour," Anthony argued.

"It is, have you seen your house? Blue."

"It is not blue."

"The interior is."

"It is white."

"And blue."

"Anthony, darling, why don't you offer Y/N a dance, hmm?" Violet said, cutting their argument off.

Anthony glowered at his mother.

"There's no one in her dance card," Y/N's mother helpfully added.

Y/N glowered at her mother.

Anthony sighed. Reluctantly, and only because she was aware of multiple people watching, Y/N held out her wrist. Anthony's fingers brushed the inside of her wrist as he took the dance card and scribbled his name down, his handwriting sloped and neat.

"There, happy?" Anthony asked, glaring over at his mother.

Violet smiled.

The conversation moved on and Y/N zoned out, looking anywhere but at the man standing next to her. She could feel the warmth radiating off him and instead of comforting her, it infuriated her. It physically ached how close he was to her yet how far away he was.

Y/N gathered her skirts, unable to cope with the feeling. "Excuse me."

She turned from Anthony and walked over to the refreshments table, gratefully accepting a glass of pink lemonade from the waiter and taking a big gulp. It was far too sweet but it gave her brain something else to think about other than the eldest Bridgerton.

A presence to her left made her pause. She gripped her glass tighter.

"They're about to play the first dance."

Anthony reached across her and grabbed a glass of water. Y/N looked down and tingles ran down her spine as his arm brushed her stomach. True to his word, the orchestra was tuning their instruments and warming up, the gentle hum of music beginning to fill the room.

"We should dance -"

"Yes, we should, my lord." Y/N turned around, setting her glass down, and looked up at him. She held her hand out. "You may lead."

Anthony looked at her, dark eyes staring into her own. He drank the water in one go and set the glass down next to Y/N's. Then, he raised his arm and grasped Y/N's fingers - gentle but firm. As the other couples in the room began to move into the centre, Anthony led Y/N forward - his back rod straight and each movement stiff yet calculated.

He guided Y/N around to stand in front of him and then spun her around so her back was against his chest. Y/N could feel his breath on the back of his neck, the buttons on his waistcoat pressing into her back. Y/N's left hand was in front of her stomach, Anthony's right holding the tip of her fingers, the warmth seeping through her silk gloves.

His left was resting near her shoulder, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her chest. Y/N held his hand with her right, crossing her arm across herself to hold his other hand.

Every other couple was in the same position but for some reason, it felt strangely intimate - as if Anthony was almost being scandalous by having his bare hand brushing her skin. His hand tightened around hers and they stood there in silence.

The orchestra began to play but was quickly cut off by a loud screech.

"No, no, no, no!"

Lady Cowper stomped forward, the pink feathers in her hair flouncing with each step. Her target was a young man with a bright yellow waistcoat and blue velvet jacket - one that looked very similar to ones worn by Benedict.

"Pink, white or black only!" She screeched. "No other colours! Go, shoo!"

She began flapping her hands around as the man argued back with her and Y/N couldn't help but giggle. Stepping back a little as she readjusted her weight, she nudged Anthony's foot slightly and he tightened his grip on her hands.

Lady Cowper was still screeching.

Anthony and Y/N were still frozen in the opening position.

"She looks like an exotic bird throwing a tantrum," Anthony whispered into her ear, leaning forward slightly.

Y/N felt a smile pull on her lips and lowered her head, attempting to hide it. "We should ask Colin which bird she best represents."

This time Anthony started smiling and he had to duck his head. "I suspect an extravagant version of a peacock."

She couldn't help the snort of laughter that escape her lips, her shoulders shaking, and Y/N turned her head, looking up at Anthony. He smiled at her, eyes sparkling, and the two of them burst into quiet laughter, trying not to draw attention to themselves.

"My apologies, ladies and gentlemen," Lady Cowper called. She waved at the band. "Chop, chop."

The conductor almost dropped his baton in his haste to restart the music. Y/N stood up straight, raising her head up, and took a step forward, Anthony following behind her.

For a minute, both were lost in the music. Nothing else mattered. She looked up into his eyes, concentrating on him and no one else. The room was a dizzying array of roses and petals but it didn't matter.

Because Anthony was there.

As long as Anthony was here - nothing else mattered.

Y/N raised her arm, Anthony holding her hand, and twirled around, coming to a stop in front of him. He stepped forward and placed his hand on her waist, the other on her back.

They were breathing hard, both staring at one another, unable to break away from the trance they'd been caught in. Anthony's thumb stroked her back, brushing the bare skin. Y/N's breath got caught in her lungs as she breathed deeply and struggled not to cough.

This was wrong.

She couldn't do this again.

She wouldn't do this again.

Abruptly snatched from the trance, Y/N stepped back, Anthony's warmth and comforting grip leaving her instantly. She looked at him, her chest aching as she saw the confused and upset expression in his eyes.

"I cannot... I cannot do this again, Anthony," Y/N said softly, her eyes brimming with tears. She reached a hand out, fingers brushing his - one last touch to keep her going. "I am sorry but I cannot. I just... I cannot."

Y/N turned and walked away from Anthony. Away from the man who had captured her heart and refused to let go.

And straight into Simon Basset.

"Oof."

Y/N stumbled back, instinctively grabbing onto Simon's arm as she lost her footing.

"My apologies," Y/N said, face heating up as she stepped back.

Simon looked at her, instantly reading the hurt on her face. "Are you alright?"

"Fine."

He looked behind her, his eyes landing on a dejected Anthony standing next to Benedict. "Oh."

"What am I doing, Simon?" Y/N asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I cannot do this again! Besides, I do not love him anymore."

Simon smiled down at her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure?" He asked gently. "My wife would disagree."

"What do I disagree with?" Daphne asked, magically appearing next to her husband.

"That Y/N does not love your brother," Simon supplied. He looked at Y/N and then over at Daphne. "I shall leave you two to talk."

Daphne stepped up to Y/N as her husband left and took her hand. "Y/N, darling, you are in love with him."

"I cannot be."

"I know you do not want to be but we cannot control the heart," Daphne replied, looking over fondly at Simon as he chatted to Colin.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at Anthony and felt her heart jump as if she'd tripped and fallen. "Shit," she swore, not caring that she was in public, "I think I am in love with him. Despite everything... I still love him."

"At last," Daphne muttered. "What gave it away? Acting like a fool around him or the fact he held your hand and stood inches away from you and you nearly fainted?"

Y/N whacked her on the shoulder. She paused and exhaled heavily, the weight of the situation hitting her. "I thought I had moved on. After he left me for Sienna I thought I had... I had gotten over it and that the love had gone. Turns out I was wrong." It never went away."

"He is a changed man."

Y/N distractedly nodded, not listening to a word Daphne uttered. "I need some fresh air."

Daphne called after her as she left but Y/N ignored her. She needed space, she needed to see some other colour than pink and needed to think.

The french doors led to a little outdoor hallway with arched windows overlooking the gardens. Y/N stayed under the roof, not wanting to get wet in the rain. Leaning back against the stone wall, she felt the stress fade a little now that she was in the dark and away from the overwhelming smell of roses.

"God, what am I doing," Y/N muttered, hand pressed to her chest as she tried to calm her speeding heart.

Y/N all but froze as a familiar scent hit her. She let out a shaky breath, eyes burning, and she bit her cheek - desperately trying not to cry. The smell of him was enough to send her into a spiral.

"Y/N."

She refused to turn.

"Y/N, look at me. Please."

She moved her head in his direction but kept her eyes on the ground, refusing to meet Anthony's gaze.

Footsteps approached. Then stopped.

"I am sorry. For what happened with Sienna."

She knew he was sorry. The numerous bouquets of flowers had all had a sorry note attached to them. She'd burnt each note.

"Y/N, please believe me when I tell you how ashamed and appalled I am by my actions back then," Anthony continued, slowly approaching her. He halted a few feet away. "But believe me when I say I have changed. Because of you."

"Why, because I broke your heart?" Y/N snapped, finally looking up at him. "Because I did not come crawling back to you when she left. Because when you knocked on my door, crying and begging to be let in, I ignored you?"

Anthony was silent. Then, "No. Because I realised that... that what I wanted was here all along. I... I do not expect you to be able to understand my actions and why I did what I did... but I was in a place where irrational decisions were my coping mechanism."

"You broke me," Y/N said quietly, her voice almost lost to the rain.

"I know I did."

"Yet you still seek forgiveness." Y/N looked past Anthony, her eyes focusing on a brick in the wall. "I loved you." She looked back at him, the weight of her words sinking in. "I waited." Y/N paused, letting each word hang in the air. "I waited." Y/N inhaled deeply. "I waited for you to figure out what was going on in your head. To figure out why you constantly shirked your responsibilities.

"And I waited the night you were with her. I waited for you. I waited for you to take me to the ball so we could dance the night away. But instead you were with her. And when one lover pushed you aside you came crawling back to the other. Like I am nothing more than your second-best bed.

"One second you are refusing marriage and flirting with every woman in London and the next you are demanding a wife and children like you are running out of time. Anthony, I cannot wait for a man who does not know his own mind - I do not possess that luxury."

Anthony was crying. He was trying not to but Y/N could see the redness of his eyes - could see how his hands shook. She had never seen him show so much emotion - been so open. They were both broken and unashamed to show it.

Y/N inhaled deeply, steeling herself. "Anthony I am going to say this only once because I... I love you. Despite everything I still... I still love you. And I know I shouldn't but I cannot help it because you are intoxicating - like a drug I cannot get enough of. So. If I were to say 'I forgive you'... if I were to utter those words... what would you do?"

The rain was the only sound between the two. Anthony was looking down at the ground, eyes brimming with tears, a few dripping down his face. He inhaled deeply and looked up at her, his eyes dark.

"I would do this," he said, approaching her, only coming to a stop until he was inches away.

Anthony leant forward and pressed a kiss to Y/N's lips. His hand rested on her waist, the other on the back of her neck. Y/N tried not to lean into him as he kissed her but it was so difficult to not simply melt and give in.

As he pulled away, Anthony rested his forehead against hers, his eyes shut. His lips tasted like lemonade. Y/N inhaled deeply, his scent comforting her and bringing back so many memories.

"That's what I would do," he said softly. "That and so, so much more." He licked his lips and sighed. "I am sorry for what I did to you. For everything I did to you. I just hope you know that I deeply regret it all and that... that I will always be here, even if you never forgive me. I will always be right next to you."

Y/N was crying now. She didn't bother to hide it. The tears fell down and as Anthony looked at her his tears spilt over too, trailing down his face. Y/N reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, wiping them away with her thumb. She rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes.

Neither one knew what to do. They were at a crossing except there was nowhere to cross. To move on would be to accept the past and try to mend the pain. But the pain was still to raw for both of them. It was a deep, festering wound that wouldn't close.

They were poisoning one another but it felt too good to step away and stop. They couldn't stop.

Y/N pressed a kiss to Anthony's lips, salt water the only thing she could taste now. Her hand curled into his hair and she held him tightly, refusing to let go even as he dragged her down into the ocean.

"Tonight," she whispered, pulling back a bit. "We have tonight and then tomorrow... tomorrow we decide."

"Tonight," Anthony repeated, nodding. He opened his eyes and found her. "Tonight is ours."

He kissed her again, pushing her back against the wall, a hand trailing up her dress. For once, neither cared about who saw and whether or not they ended up in the middle of a scandal. Perhaps it would be good if they did - if society decided their future for them.

But for now, for tonight, neither cared. They moved around the pain and pretended as if nothing had happened. As if they were the only two people in the entire world.

Anthony's hand reached higher and Y/N's grip on his jacket tightened as she arched her back, everything in her aching for more. Aching for him. She wanted more. Anthony was hungry and she was so full that she let him take her.

Tomorrow she would decide.

But tonight, on the dark terrace, hidden away from the rain and from life, she let Anthony take everything.