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randomfanfics02 · 4 months

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Five times I whispered 'I love you.' Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader.

Summary; Being Daphne's best friend had its perks, growing up alongside the Bridgerton family, going to the balls with them, and falling in love with her older brother.

Warning; shit tone of fluff, little smut, angst. Family death; readers mother passed away and Father is ill with similar traits as the King. Readers last name is Taylor.

Distractions.

"Y/n,"

You pause, looking through the mirror at Daphne, your fingers run through your curls, a simple lilac dress hugging your frame beautifully.

"Dear, why are you running?" You laugh, raising a questioning brow at the oldest Bridgerton daughter.

"I need your help, the Duke is on his way and I need a moment alone with him-"

"Out of wedlock," You turn around to face Daphne, with a gasp, you place a hand on your chest with a teasing smirk, "How scandalous."

Daphne whacks your shoulder, passing you to take a lipstick from her vanity, "No, I need you to go downstairs and distract Anthony for me, mother has taken the others to the market and you are my only help."

"It will cost you three new books-"

"Of course," Daphne beams, pressing a kiss on your cheek, "Thank you."

You hum in reply, the two of you quickly scurrying to window as the carriage arrives at the front of the house. You both share a look before the two of rush out her room and down the stairs, hands held together as you try not too trip over your dresses.

"Go quickly, I'll distract him," You gently push Daphne towards the door before rushing towards Anthony's office.

Taking a deep breath, you straighten your dress and gently knock on his door. Hearing a faint, 'come in', you gently open the door, popping your head around the corner as he looks up from his desk.

"Lord Bridgerton," You greet with a smile, "I was wondering-"

"What are you up too?" Anthony frowns, placing down his work, "You have that look on your face-"

"I have no look upon my face-"

"You certainty do-"

"My face holds nothing but beauty,"

Anthony laughs, standing up as you smile teasingly at him, "You hold a lot of beauty, Lady Taylor."

You feel your cheeks blush as he gets himself a drink, he leans against his desk as he watches you. You hold his eyes for a moment before clearing your throat, "I was wondering if you wanted to walk with me in the gardens, Daphne is busy-"

"Of course," Anthony replies, taking his jacket from the back of his chair.

"Are you not busy?"

"Not for you," Anthony offers you his arm with a smile, "And I can't have my sisters dear friend wondering around alone."

You smile, taking his arm as the two of you head towards the gardens, you look over your shoulder catching Daphne followed by the Duke who gives you a cheeky wink to which you roll your eyes at playfully.

Anthony holds the door for you, and you head out into the gardens. Beautiful lines of flowers lead down the garden path towards the pond, where a tall white fountain sits in the middle of it.

"Its beautiful out here," You say, letting your fingertips run over tall pink flowers, "You should host a picnic."

Anthony hums in agreement, "And whom should attend?"

"Me," You raise a brow at him, making him tilt his head down towards yours with a smile on his own.

"You practically live here," He jokes, "But you are more than welcome."

Your hand falls from Anthony's arm as Hyacinth and Gregory come bounding towards the two of you, their nanny running close behind with bright red cheeks. You catch Hyacinth in your arms, placing the ten year old on you hip as she hugs you.

"Y/n," She beams, "Have you seen our new flowers, mother had them placed by the entrance, they are tall and purple and-"

"They are beautiful," You press a kiss on her cheek, Anthony watches with small smile, holding Gregory's hand in his own as the four of you continue your walk, "What are you two playing?"

"We were just running around," Gregory answers, gently swinging his and Anthony's hands.

"Sounds exhausting," You roll your eyes playfully as Hyacinth giggles at you.

"Anthony?" Gregory pauses, pointing over into the distance, "What is that?"

Your eyes go wide as Anthony looks over at you, then towards the carriage at the front of the house. Anthony races towards the entrance as you place down Hyacinth, taking hers and Gregory's hand as you follow behind him.

Reaching the entrance, the carriage is long gone, leaving Daphne stood at the doors with a small smile. Anthony skids to a stop, looking up at his sister with a questioning look. You stop beside Daphne, holding a cheeky smile as he glares at you, now knowing your true intentions for wanting to go for a walk.

"I best excuse myself," You press a kiss on the two youngest's head before pressing one on Daphne's kiss, who whispers a thank you. Making your way down the steps, you lean up to press a kiss on his cheek, "Have a lovely evening, Ant."

Anthony watches you walk away, fingertips brushing over his cheek as Daphne laughs, he glares up at her, "You are unable to question my love life if you are unable to sort out yours, brother."

Anthony watches as his sister ushers his little brother and sister inside the house before looking over his shoulder in the distance you had wondered off too.

2. Always.

"Lady Taylor,"

You jump in surprise as The Duke bursts into the room, eyes wide, breathing heavily, cloths in disarray. It was late a night, your home library only lit up by a few candles. You place down your book, heart pounding in your chest as catch onto the worry in his eyes.

"Daphne has gone into labour, Y/n," He hurries, offering you his hand as you rush with him through your house.

"What is happening?" Your father questions, stepping outside of his office.

"It's Daphne papa," You quickly explain, slipping on your shoes, "She has gone into labour."

"Wish her my best," You father smiles, looking over your shoulder at the Duke who takes your hand again gently pulling you along, "And you too son, you'll be a fine father."

The Duke smile quickly, closing the doors behind you before climbing into the carriage, "Are you alright?"

Simon nods, knee bobbing up and down, his face written with anxiety, "I am worried."

"Daphne is a strong woman, I have grown up alongside her and she will be a wonderful mother," You reassure him before teasingly adding, "So will you."

Simon laughs, "Thank you, Y/n. She asked for you, she needs you beside her."

"Always."

"As did the Viscount," Simon says, you open your mouth to reply but he beats you too it, "He trusts you, I have never seen Anthony so infatuated."

The rest of the carriage ride is sat in silence. Your heart pounding in your chest as you arrive, Simon rushes out before you, you quickly following as you rush towards Daphne's room. Reaching the hallway towards her room, The Duke runs past the siblings who sit scattered outside the in the hallway. Anthony pushes off the wall he was leaning on, quickly taking your hands as Daphne's scream echoes down the hall as Simon walks back into her room.

Your eyes stay onto his, squeezing his hand, "I have too-"

"I know," Anthony nods, pressing a gently kiss on your hands, "Be with her."

You walk past the siblings, pressing a quick kiss on Hyacinth's head as you pass. Anthony watches as you close the bedroom door behind you, before sighing, slumping back down beside Benedict.

"Are you ever going to come to your senses?"

Anthony frowns, looking at his brother, "Pardon?"

"Y/n, she has grown with us," Benedict leans his head back against the wall, "You don't look at her like how Colin and I do, you look at her as if she holds your world."

Anthony shakes his head, "I do not wish to burden Y/n with our family-"

"She is family."

Hours had past. Gregory and Hyacinth had gone to bed, the rest of the siblings fallen asleep in the hall. Benedict passes his brother a drink as he rubs his eyes tiredly.

"I believe it will be a boy," Benedict mumbles tiredly as Anthony hums in agreement.

Their heads shot up as you quietly come from the room, gently closing it behind you, you smile brightly, "It's a boy."

Anthony and Benedict share a laugh, as the other siblings startle awake. They celebrate together as Anthony walks towards you, gently wiping away the happy tear that rolled down your cheek. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead as you rest your hands on his chest as holds you close.

"Thank you, Y/n."

"Always, Anthony."

3. Take my hand.

Aubrey Hall looked stunning under the summer sun, the garden decorated with numerous tents, surrounding a platform for dancing, a band siting in the corner.

"It looks truly beautiful," Daphne mutters as you nod in agreement, watching as Lords and Ladies began to dance under the evening sky.

Anthony and Colin walk up to the two of you and Anthony takes a moment to take in how breath taking you look. A sheer black dress sat over a burgundy one with think straps, sheer black gloves reach over your elbows, dark hair curled and pulled into a perfect bun. He smiled gently as you thank him for the drink he passed you, the four of you stand on the steps watching down on the garden party.

"Is that Lord Elton your father is talking too?" Colin asks, squinting under the sun as the three of your follow Colin's gaze, "Why would your father be speaking to Lord Elton, the man that has been rumoured to be the biggest prick of the ton."

Anthony reaches behind you, smacking his brother around the back of his head, but none-the-less doesn't disagree.

"Why would your father be talking to Lord Elton?" Colin asks as Daphne and yourself share a worried expression.

"I will be back in a moment," You rush down the steps and hurry towards your father.

Anthony watches with a heavy feeling sat in his heart as you gently interrupt their conversation. His stare hardens as Lord Elton gently presses a kiss on the back of your hand.

"Stop glaring," Daphne gently nudges her older brothers arm.

"Lady Y/n looks beautiful tonight, I am sure he is hoping for much more,"

Anthony smacks his brother again as Daphne rolls her eyes at the two, "Anthony, you truly need to see that Y/n would be a fine wife for you."

"She is your closest friend, Daphne," Anthony replies, swallowing thickly as he watches you, "She is family-"

"She makes the world stop for you, doesn't she?" Daphne rhetorically asks, "She makes you happy and you make her happy too, I only wish for the two of you to be happy together."

Anthony looks down at his sister, mirroring her soft smile as he presses a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Colin chuckles, "In other words brother, be a man and tell her how you feel." Colin ducks before his older brother could smack him.

You pull your father to the side as Lord Elton walks away to get himself a drink. Your father was the only family you had after your mother's passing a few years ago. Recently, your father had been having these spells as your father calls it, moments where he forgot about the world around him and focused on the stars, believing your mother was calling him from the stars.

"Lord Elton is a good man-"

"Father, I understand you are worried but he is not a good man, I wouldn't be happy-"

"But you would be safe and have money, the children you have will be looked after," You father gently argues, cupping your face he brushes his thumb over your cheek, "If I can not remember you, my darling, I want to forget with you secure and with someone I trust."

"You trust him?" You ask, brows pinched together as you look at your father, "Don't you want me to be happy?"

"Lord Elton is hardly around, he is wealthy," You father answers, "You would have my inheritance-"

"That he would take, he is a wicked man-"

"You mustn't think the worst of people," Your father's gaze harden slightly as he sighs, shoulders dropping, "I don't know how long I have left and I need you to be safe when I pass."

"I will-"

"Lord Elton will provide for you, and he has enough to do so," You father finalizes, "I will be giving him my blessing."

Your father walks away as you watch with a sudden pit of anxiety sat in your stomach. Looking over your shoulder the Bridgeton siblings had disappeared which your thankful for as you rush up the stairs and into the house.

You rush further into the house, away from the garden party, you finally sob, pressing a gloved hand over your mouth as you slide down the wall, falling into tears.

Outside Anthony watches as you quickly walk away and into the house, passing his drink to Benedict before quickly following. He smiles politely as people greet him before rushing further into the house. Anthony frowns, falling beside you to bring you into a hug letting you sob into his chest.

"My father is ill," You whisper, as you wipe away your tears, moving to lean your head on his shoulder.

"I am sorry," Anthony replies, pressing a kiss on your head, "What is wrong?"

"He has these spells," You quietly say, "He believes he can hear my mother and she is telling him to meet him in the stars, he has fits and spells of anger where he locks himself in his office."

"What can be done?" Anthony take one of your gloves off, lacing your fingers together.

"Nothing," You reply, wiping another fallen tear, "He wants to marry me off to Lord Elton so he can pass knowing I am safe-"

"Lord Elton is a wicked man-"

"Please tell my father, Ant," You lean your chin on his shoulder as he peers down at you, "I don't want to marry him."

"I know," Anthony presses a kiss on your forehead, "I won't let it happen."

You breath a laugh, tightening your hand in his, "And how will you do that, my Lord?"

Anthony swallows thickly, before resting his forehead on yours, "Whatever to make sure you are happy."

4. Our final moment.

On a warm summers day, your father hosted a game of croquet, inviting the Bridgerton family, The Duke and Lord Elton for a friendly game. Taylor summer house was grand, your favourite home; tall tower like structures either side of the grand entrance, a library with bookcases from the floor to the ceiling and a garden that reached for miles, the house surrounded by trees. It was simply beautiful.

"May I say," Lord Elton says, pushing back his thick dark hair off the thin line of sweat, "This house would be magnificent to raise children in."

You share a look with Daphne after Lord Elton winked at you. Anthony glared at him as the Duke nudged him, raising a brow at him to which he rolled his eyes at. You gently tugged the sleeves of your lace sleeves over your knuckles as your father awkwardly chuckles, breaking the slight pause at the Lord's comment.

"I think Lord Taylor and I will sit the rest of this out," Violet gently smiles, placing a comforting hand on your arm sensing your uneasiness.

"I agree, I grow tired quickly now I grow old," You father jokes, smiling gratefully as Benedict passes him a drink before he sits.

"You've been old for awhile, father," You press a quick kiss on his head as you pass, smiling as Anthony passes you a blue mallet. The sibling's yourself and the Duke, carry on with the game, walking down the garden hill to the next match.

"What a quick tongue," Lord Elton jokes, taking the yellow mallet from Anthony's hand, "I am sure we can fix that when you'll be mine."

"I am no object you can claim," You take the yellow mallet from his hands, passing it back to Anthony as you pass, "And I do not need to be fixed."

Anthony shares a smirk with Simon as Daphne and Eloise share a laugh hidden under their hands. Benedict pats your shoulder with a proud smile before you take your shot perfectly.

As the game continues, you stand beside Anthony and Daphne, laughing gently at Colin's misfortune and bad aim. Lord Elton follows on, whacking the ball and Anthony's out the way making Anthony's roll down the hill. Anthony glares as you roll your eyes at Lord Elton's smirk. Daphne goes next, sending a cheeky wink to her husband as she hits your ball, coincidently making it follow Anthony's.

"I guess we need to go for a hunt, Lord Bridgerton," You smile cheekily, taking Anthony's arm.

As Lord Elton goes to object, Anthony smiles, "We will catch up, continue."

Simon wraps an arm around Daphne's shoulders as the two share a knowing smile.

Anthony and yourself walk down the hill, your hand falls into his in a more intimate moment, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The two of you found your croquet balls stuck in mud at the edge of the tree line.

"Come on,"

Anthony watches as you walk into the mud, bunching your dress in one hand. You whack the ball out of the mud, before looking at Anthony with a raised brow. He chuckles before sighing as he steps into the mud, whacking the ball out of the mud and beside yours. Anthony takes a step out of the mud, sighing at his new black shoes now covered in mud.

"Anthony,"

Anthony looks over at you, who is struggling to get out of the mud, your mallet now fallen beside you as you try and pull your foot out. Anthony steps back into the mud, hand catching yours, as he gently pulls you into his arms.

Looking down at you, you hold onto his arms, tugging gently to try and free yourself, "May I lift you?"

"You may,"

Placing his hands on your waist, you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he lifts you out of the mud. As he goes to walk out of the mud, he finds himself stuck making to two of you tumble forward. You back hits the mud first, his body falling on yours. The two of you gaze at each other, before breaking into a fit of laughter, your arms wrap around his shoulders, legs slotted together.

"Your covered in mud," Anthony murmurs as the laughter dies, bright smiles gracing your faces.

"My back and just your knees," You wink, "How scandalous."

Anthony laughs again, eyes searching yours as his cheeks blush pink, "A rumour that may save you from marriage."

"So that was your plan all along,"

"Possibly."

His eyes flickered over your face, before falling onto your lips, you barely tilted your head at him, raising your brows when you let your eyes level at his mouth, at those pink lips.

"Anthony," You breathlessly whispered.

His lips meet in the most romantic kiss, one full of passion and unspoken love. A muddied hand cupped your cheek as Anthony leaned down on his elbow beside your head, you hands fell to cup the back of his head, fingertips running down his nape as you pulled him, if possible, closer. You moaned into his mouth as the hand that once cupped your cheek gripped your hip tightly bunching your dress in his fist as instinctively hitch your leg over his hip.

The kisses turn more hungry and needy, his tongue dancing over yours as his hips press into yours. His hand runs over your ankle that sits on his hip, running his hand down the length of your smooth leg before resting it on your upper thigh.

"Lady Y/n! Anthony!"

The two of you quickly pull apart as Colin comes bounding down the hill. Scrambling to your feet, Anthony helps you out of the mud before picking up your mallet passing it to you before picking up his own. Colin stops, looking between the two of you with a wide cheeky grin.

"You have a little mud on your cheek," Colin points to your cheek making your eyes go wide as you quickly try brushing away the mud off your cheek.

"We will be there in a moment," Anthony tells his brother.

Colin nods, unable to take the smile off his face as he sends you a cheeky wink before walking back up the hill. Anthony takes his handkerchief from his pocket, standing in front of you as her cups your cheek, gently cleaning the mud from your cheek. His eyes never leave yours as he does. Shrugging out of his jacket, he wraps it around your shoulders, helping you slide your arms into his jacket.

"To hide the mud," He quietly jokes, making you blush.

"Thank you," Anthony smiles, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

5. 'I love you.'

Lord Elton held a ball in order to celebrate your engagement. Though it was a little beforehand as you had yet to be asked for your hand in marriage. The hall was decorated beautifully with white flowers, tall champagne towers and a band playing on a stage.

Anthony was unable to look away from you; a white dress with lace detailing and long sleeves that fell over your knuckles, flower embroidery decorating the skirt. You hair was long and curled, half of it pinned back with delicate pearls.

"You are staring again," Eloise nudged her brothers arm.

"I can not help it," Anthony admits, eyes meeting your as you look over your shoulder, you send him a kind smile though your eyes betray you true feelings.

"This is your last chance to tell her," Eloise tells him softly, taking a sip of her drink, "Or Lord Prick will marry her."

Anthony chuckles, looking down at his sister fondly, "Stop listening to Colin's foul language."

"I believe I learnt that from you, brother."

You grasp your father hand in your own as his began to shake. Lord Elton rambles on about something, but you pay no attention, focusing on your father.

"Lord, I hope you don't mind but I think my father has had enough for tonight," You smile gently at him, "I think its time to go home."

"Of course, I will accompany you-"

"That isn't necessary-"

"When you are mine, I will not let you out of my sight," Lord Elton pulling your father closing to him and out of your hand, "I will take him to the carriage, get whatever you need."

You watch helplessly as he takes you father away, worry sitting in the pit of your stomach as you gently push through the crowd. The announcement that the ball is over is shouted as you take Daphne's hand, gently pulling her aside.

Her worried eyes meet your own, "My father is about to have a spell and Lord Elton is coming with us, possibly to propose, what do I do?"

She squeezes your hand, "Talk to him, quickly. My brother loves you, go before it's too late."

You nod, quickly pressing a kiss on her cheek before quickly walking towards the eldest Bridgerton brother. He stands alone, waiting for his siblings and mother to collect themselves before getting into the carriage. His eyes widen as you approach meeting you halfway, placing his hand on your shoulders as his eyes meet your worried ones.

"What happened?"

"I am taking my father home, he is unwell," You rush out, "Tell me you love me."

"Pardon-?"

"The prick will propose with my father's blessing in his state, he is playing a wicked game and I know it, so tell me you love me as I love you and be the man my father wants me to marry, be that man I feel safe with."

Anthony's brain pauses, his heart stopping as his hands fall from your shoulders. You heart hurts, taking his moment to mean rejection. You look over your shoulder as a butler calls your name, telling you a carriage has arrived.

Looking back at Anthony, he stares, eyes glazed over as you nod once before walking away, brushing past the Bridgerton siblings, ignoring Daphne as she calls your name.

"He missed his chance," Eloise sadly mutters, head falling onto Benedict's shoulder as he watches his older brother crumble.

---

Holding your father's hand tightly, you guide him through the house as he mutters quietly to himself. Taking him into the office, you sit him down into the chair before pulling the curtains closed, closing your father away from the heavy rain and sudden shout of thunder.

"What is happening?" Lord Elton asks as you father mutters to himself, head in hands as you kneel beside him.

"He is fine," You defensively dismiss him, "Thank you for your assistance but you may leave-"

"He is losing his mind," Lord Elton laughs, watching as your father gently rocks himself, looking up at the ceiling, muttering about your mother and the stars, "Look at the man."

"Don't you dare-"

"Do what?" Lord Elton rhetorically asks, taking a further step into the office, "You are simply a woman and he is a freak."

"You are simply a beast of a man, one that is cruel and heartless," You spit, clutching your father hands tighter in your own as a tear rolls down your cheek, "I will never except your hand in marriage."

Lord Elton glare down at you, before spitting horridly at yours and your fathers feet, "I wouldn't touch the Bridgerton's whore anyway."

"Leave before I write to the Queen herself, describing how much of a prick you truly are, and then no woman will want to touch you."

Lord Elton snarls before slamming every door on his way out. You turn to your father, letting go of one of his hands to gently cup his face, he tiredly blinks at you as you wipe away a tear.

"I am sorry," Your father quietly whispers, "I am so sorry, my dear."

"Do not apologise, you wanted what was best for me," You reply with a quick pained smile, "But I am afraid what I thought was best for me, doesn't want me."

"Anthony knows, he is just scared." Your father gently rests his forehead on yours, "Your mother was everything to me, when you where born you became everything as well, I want what is best for you and I got carried away in my own worries that you would be alone when I pass that I was unable to see how I was going to marry you with a man that was going to do more harm than happiness."

"You need to rest," You pull away, standing up to help him, "I will ask the cook to get you something warm to eat-"

"I can do that, darling," You father squeezes your hand, giving you a warm smile, "Go and find your happiness."

"I can not leave you like this-"

You father presses a kiss on the back of your hand, "I will be fine, now go."

---

"I froze, how could I be so stupid?"

Benedict sighs, sitting beside his brother, who holds his head in his hands, cheeks stained with tears. Daphne kneels in front of him, placing a hand on his knee as Violet sits the other side of him, placing a comforting hand on her son's back.

"Love makes us do stupid things," His mother gently whispers sadly.

"I have loved her for so long and Y/n tells me she loves me and I suddenly do not know how to reply," Anthony finally breaks, looking at his mother as a tear runs down his cheek, "I have lost her."

"No, no you have not," Violet brings her son in her arms, pressing a kiss on his head, "You can still go to her, tell her before it is too late."

"Lord Elton-"

"Do you honestly believe that Y/n would chose Lord Elton over the one she truly loves?"

Anthony looks down at his sister, who offers him a knowing smile. Benedict pats his brother's shoulder, mirroring Daphne's smile.

Violet nods, squeezing her son's hand tightly, "Go and get your happiness, Anthony."

---

The maids shout after you as you rush out of the house, hands gripping your dress tightly as you run through the rain. You hair sticks to your neck, the white dress ruined but you couldn't find yourself to care.

The Bridgerton siblings and Violet watch as Anthony rushes out of the house, smiling happily as they watch Anthony run down the street. Simon takes his wife's hand in his own, pressing a kiss on her head before gently taking his son out of her arms. Eloise beams as Colin wraps an arm around her shoulder as Benedict wraps his arms around the two youngest. Violet wipes the tear off her cheek as she finally watches her eldest son chase after the purest love.

Rounding the corner, the streets are empty, only lit up by the golden glow from the house windows. You suddenly stop as he does, standing opposite sides of the road. His hair sticks to his forehead, white skirt sticking to his arms as his blue waistcoat is soaked in rain.

Your chest heaves as your heart pounds in your chest, the two of you clash into a hug. His arms wrap around your waist as your wrap around his shoulders, holding you close to him, he presses a light kiss on your neck before pulling away slightly.

"I do, I do love you," Anthony breaths out, "I am sorry I froze, but hearing you tell me you love me, I- It was all I have ever wanted to hear."

You smile, gently pressing a hand to the back of his nape, resting his forehead to yours, "There are many reasons why I couldn't marry Lord Elton, not only because he was a prick but because I couldn't imagine marry anyone else but you."

"Then marry me," Anthony says, nose brushing against yours as he smiles, "Let me call you my wife, let me have children with you, grow old with you, let me kiss you when I want, let me love you."

You share a kiss under the stars, one full of spoken and knowing love, one of passion and understanding. His hand holds the back of your head as your hands slide down his shoulders, resting on his chest, his heart thumping under your touch. He holds onto desperately, kissing you with all his love, before gently pulling away, resting his forehead on yours with a love sick smile.

"I love you," Anthony whispered against your lips.

"I love you too."

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murdockparker · 6 months

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Mr. Bridgerton and the Baker

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Covered in flour. It is how she usually spent her days, working hard at her family's bakery. She just hadn't expected to have met him in such a state.

Word Count: 11.8k

Warnings: pining, angst, fluff, a small assault (reader gets hit, not by Benedict!), mention of pregnancy (like, literally a line or two),

A/N: Did I write an entire fic barely based on that one scene in Camp Rock where Mitchie is covered in flour? Yes. Do I regret it? No.

With the melting of snow and the promise of new starts, the social season was nearly upon the ton, nearly upon all the potential suitors and debutantes—all waiting with bated breath to secure a match this year. Of course, those in waiting were of high status, usually tied to the aristocracy or drowning in wealth beyond compare.

The others? The ones not blessed with endless funds or pure luck of royal lineage had the privilege, nay, honor to serve those who would be so fortunate. For the many, it included servicing the estates—butlers, lady’s maids, governesses, home chefs and the like. For the patrons on Tilbury Street, it included the less sought after roles, polishers, cobblers, modistes and bakeries. One bakery in particular was the prime choice for the aristocracy, a diamond in the rough as some may say.

—

“I just simply don’t understand why we cannot have our chefs prepare the pastries for the ball,” Eloise Bridgerton nearly groaned, her arm hooked onto her mother’s. They had been walking up and down Tilbury Street for the better part of twenty minutes, simply enjoying the fresh spring weather. “I’ve never known them to make horrid dishes.”

“It’s the first Bridgerton Ball of the season, Eloise,” the dowager viscountess murmured politely. “Along with it being the first Kate has had the pleasure of hosting, putting an order in here is a fresh foot forward, one that’ll impress our guests.”

Eloise barked back a laugh. “If it is so important, why is Kate not here to make the order herself?”

“That, dear sister, is an excellent point.” Following close behind the two Bridgerton ladies was a rather tall shadow, equally as dashing and nearly as clever—Benedict—the second eldest son of the Bridgerton brood. “Surely Anthony could spare his wife for one afternoon, I can’t imagine it being so difficult to pry them from their bedroom—”

“Benedict Bridgerton!” Violet snapped, turning hot on her heels to face her son. He could only laugh.

“Oh Mother, you must relax,” he said lovingly, patting both hands on her shoulders. “You know better than I that it could have been a far fouler thought—why, I can easily imagine three other ways I could have expressed my way of thinking.”

“Ah, ever the poet, Benedict,” Eloise smiled wryly, pushing her way to the front of their clump. No one had the heart to mention the glaring fact that it was likely she didn’t know the way in which they were headed.

“This bakery,” Violet continued half-heartedly. “Is a prestigious supplier for the ton—you may recall their exquisite cake that we had ordered for Daphne’s wedding.”

Benedict hummed contently. “It was a good cake,” he practically nodded off at the thought. The decadent sponge nearly brought him to tears—of course, it could have very well been the relief from undue stress of Daphne’s season altogether, having nearly lost his older brother to an unnecessary duel.

“I think it was far too sweet,” Eloise said, scrunching her nose in distaste. “I had to drink nearly three cups of tea to clear out the sugar on my tongue.”

“Ah, but what’s life without a little bit of sweetness?” Benedict nearly sang.

“Perfectly fulfilling,” his younger sister quipped back.

The dowager viscountess could only sigh, her eyes reaching up to the clouds above. While she loved nothing more than being the mother of all eight of her perfect children, their endless bickering and bantering grew vexing. It merely took the Bridgerton siblings another minute of arguing before stopping in front of a quaint storefront—the sickeningly sweet aroma filling the street. “We’re here.”

“I could have told you as much,” Benedict mumbled, rubbing his temple lightly. “The scent is… overpowering.” If he were lucky, the headache that was quickly forming would dull fast.

“But Benedict,” Eloise turned hot on her heels. “What’s life without a bit of sweetness?”

Violet Bridgerton was quick to catch her second eldest's hand before it met the back of Eloise’s head. “If it’s too much for you, dear,” she released her grip. “Please feel free to wait for us out here. It should only take a moment.”

“Like a ‘moment’ at the modiste?” Benedict crossed his arms, his brow nearly touching his hairline. “If I recall, the last time I accompanied you to the dressmaker, I spent over an hour basking in the summer sun.”

“Nothing logical stopped you from coming in,” Eloise drawled. “Of course, if you wanted to managed to stay pleasant with the seamstress, one should have kept it in his trousers—”

“We’ll only be a moment,” Violet hushed Eloise quickly, grasping the top of her arm firmly. “There seems to be little wait. We’ll be on our way shortly.”

He huffed towards the sun—while there had been little heat near the start of the English spring, the sun was warm against his skin. Benedict enjoyed being outdoors more often than not, it was usually the reason he accompanied his mother on their errands nearly every other day of the season. That, of course, and the fact it got his worrying mama off of his back to be wed. With Anthony finally securing a match, it was only fitting for Violet Bridgerton to be working her way down her list of endless children—having only two of eight married off. “It should only be a moment,” Benedict reassured himself, watching various other families and couples walk by.

That is, until he heard a rather loud bang coming from the alley beside him. He should have known better—he was taught better—than to investigate outlandish sounds, especially in town, but Benedict Bridgerton was nothing if not curious. He peeked around the corner, holding his breath, preparing to be met with a wild animal of some kind. His view was shaky at best, hardly could see a thing around the bricks. If he wanted a better look, he’d have to take a few steps towards the unusual noise.

A large white cloud had enveloped the small alley, it was difficult to even see a few meters ahead, let alone what could have caused the loud commotion. Benedict waved his hand through the mysterious fog, trying to clear some air. “Hello?” He heard a soft squeak. An animal, it had to have been, Benedict was sure of it now. “Is anyone there?”

A cough rang through the alley, startling him more than rogue vermin could have. The cloud had begun to dissipate, the white settling on the stone street below. Flour, if he had to guess, given the location.

“I’m alright,” a voice murmured quietly, another soft cough following quickly after. The shape of a person came into view, the air finally clearing enough for him to make sense of the scene he came upon. It was one of a woman now covered head to toe in the white powder—she had no distinguishable features, the flour was caking every bit of her body and dress. Just striking eyes that made Benedict’s heart jump to his throat. “Just… made a mess.”

“So it seems,” Benedict hummed, stepping over a pile of powder to get closer. “Do you require any help?”

“No, no,” she laughed. “I wouldn’t want you to get dirty. I fear I’ve got quite enough of that for the both of us.”

“I don’t mind getting dirty,” Benedict said quickly, his tongue moving faster than his brain. “But… yes, I suppose it’d be for the best if I refrained from getting any flour on me. May I ask how…?”

“Clumsy,” she uttered simply, the shrug of her shoulders speaking nothing but truth. “I must have the slipperiest fingers in town—I wish I could say this was the first time…”

“Manage to cover yourself in flour often?” Benedict’s lips pulled into a jesting smirk.

“Nearly every other day,” the woman sighed. “We’ve grown accustomed to purchasing an extra sack or two just for situations like these."

“I hardly doubt you could be that clumsy,” Benedict laughed, leaning against the stone wall. “But, I am painting quite the image in my head.”

“Oh I do hope I’m decent in that image, Mr. Bridgerton,” she giggled, curtsying in a near-mocking manner.

“How do you know—”

“Everyone knows your family, Mr. Bridgerton, I’d be a fool to admit I don’t know who you are—though you and your brothers all blur together, so I am merely taking a shot in the dark in which of the four you are.”

“Oh?”

She nodded once, a flurry of powder falling from her hair. A muffled shout from the back door startled her, grabbing her attention. “Ah,” the woman waved the air in front of her face, “I suppose I should take my leave—get cleaned up.”

“Of course,” Benedict said simply. “I won’t keep you.” In nearly an instant, the mysterious dusted lady disappeared from view, diving into the back door. He was taken aback by her candidness—having addressed him so forwardly without the pleasantries of a name exchange. “Damn,” he mumbled to himself, kicking residual flour off of his polished shoe, “I never asked for her name.” Would it be too forward to knock on the back door to ask for her? Benedict Bridgerton couldn’t wrap his head around the interaction—she nearly sent him into a tizzy.

“Brother?”

Eloise stood at the end of the alley, clutch in hand, face pinched in confusion.

“Ah, I suppose you’re finished?”

“Hardly,” Eloise scoffed, “Mother insisted on doubling the initial order ‘just to be safe’. She’ll be out in a moment.”

“Perhaps I should go inside to accompany her—”

“And leave your unwed sister unchaperoned in this part of town?” Eloise pressed a hand to her brother’s chest, stopping him dead in his tracks. His eyes danced quickly to the street in the distance, clearly not paying any attention to his sister. “Benedict?”

“Hm?” He glanced down. “Ah, maybe we should both go back inside—”

“You’re…” she pushed on him harder, nearly sending him backwards. “Acting strange. Not terribly long ago you wanted nothing to do with this place and now, you’re dying to jump into the building that brought you so much strife?” Eloise removed her hand from him, settling it down by her side as she glanced at him up and down. The blues of his outfit were covered slightly in a white power—not enough to really notice, but enough to give the appearance of filth. “And you’re covered in… flour?”

“I don’t wish to share every moment of my day with you, dear Sister,” Benedict said simply, sighing contently. “My business is my business.”

“Business,” Eloise parroted. “Sure.”

Violet Bridgerton had finished the order quickly, mumbling something about the higher prices this time of year—she had gotten a good deal regardless. Benedict was hardly listening, for he was already planning his next trip to this very bakery, hoping to meet the girl in flour once more.

He never did get the chance, to go back to town. His studies took up most of his free time, any other moment he had was spent with his ever-growing family. Just recently, his sister Daphne brought over her newest addition—another daughter named Belinda—who happened to be yet another spitting image of her mother. Benedict had a theory that every new Bridgerton baby will simply just inherit all the Bridgerton features, so far he had been proven correct.

“Damn,” Benedict mumbled, violently dabbing a paint brush into his water cup, the colors swirling from the end.

He had been in his studio for the last few hours, mixing endless pigments and oils together, trying to concoct the color in his mind’s eye. It was impossible, he theorized, to create the exact shades and hues of her eyes. It was the most striking thing he remembered about her appearance—save for the copious amount of white flour caking her form—and Benedict Bridgerton had come to the conclusion that her eyes were simply forged by God Himself, a color not meant for mortal recreation.

“Why can I not…” He sighed, slumping back in his stool, paintbrush nearly hitting his trousers. “This is impossible.”

The grand clock beside the door chimed out. It was nearly time to get ready for Anthony and Kate’s ball—an occasion he was most dreading, save for enjoying the few pastries that came from the quaint bakery down in town. Reluctantly, he began to pry himself from his studio and made his way to the washroom, preparing to soak away any remnants of her.

—

“Mother,” (Y/N) chimed out, tying the serving apron to her waist, “I don’t see the reason for my attendance this evening. Surely the hosts of the event will have their own serving staff?”

“(Y/N),” her mother exasperated, throwing a towel down. “Your brothers are ill and bedridden and have been the last few days. Your father and I are counting on you to help fulfill the order, my back isn’t what it used to be, if you recall.”

The girl sighed, her eyes rolling right up to the cracking ceiling. “How funny, it seems your back flares up nearly in time for deliveries to be made,” the girl mumbled.

“What was that?” Her mother turned quickly towards her only daughter. “I’m sure I misheard you.”

“You must have,” (Y/N) sang. “For I said I’m willing to help with the delivery, mother.”

The older woman narrowed her brow. “Never do I hear such sass from the boys… Perhaps a bit of manual labor will refocus your priorities.”

“I already agreed,” (Y/N) reiterated. “As if I had terribly too much of a choice…”

“No,” her mother clicked, slapping the a rather large ball of dough that resided on the floured surface. “You do not. Now come, help your mother roll this out.”

She had gotten ready for the ball in record time—seeing as how she’s never gotten ready for one. (Y/N) dug through her mother’s wardrobe, finding an old and somewhat outdated green dress to wear, but it did the trick just fine. It was far nicer than the frocks she had owned anyhow, a light embroidery laced the edges and was sure to be run over by her fingertips endlessly throughout the evening.

“The carriage is here!” Her father couldn’t have shouted louder throughout the small flat. Their home resided above the bakery, a quaint little thing with only two bedrooms—(Y/N) had the pleasure of sleeping in a rather over-glorified closet. If she reached her arms out, she’d be able to touch two of the walls easily, but like everything in her life, she made do. Unexpected child? Unexpected room.

“I’ll be right there,” (Y/N) said, tying the now-cleaned apron around her waist, checking herself in the reflection of her water pitcher. “Damned hair,” her fingers moved to tuck a loose ringlet back into position—she had spent the better part of the evening trying to style it.

“We need to load the carriage and make way to Bridgerton House,” her father repeated, smoothing his formalwear out. He hardly had the chance to wear it, seeing as situations like this happen only once in a while. “We must make a good impression, perhaps we’ll find more business this evening.”

“That’ll be a blessing,” her mother agreed, heading down the stairs to the bakery. “We could always use more business and the dowager viscountess is well liked around the ton, surely she’ll have pleasant things to say about our work.”

“I thought we let the pastries ‘speak for themselves’,” (Y/N) chimed in, carefully picking up a parcel. Her parents simply glared at her, allowing their daughter to silently move along with the loading process.

The silence continued throughout the lengthy ride to Bridgerton House—the bakers not uttering a word until disembarking to unload all of the sweets. True to her original thought, the Bridgertons had their staff do the bulk of the unloading, carrying each parcel and box into the grand room that was to be the heart of the ball, all that was left to move was the elegant cake specially ordered by the dowager viscountess.

“Do you need a hand?”

“Oh, that would be—” (Y/N) turned around to the mysterious voice, only to find the same Bridgerton boy from earlier in the week standing behind her. “I—Mr. Bridgerton, I’m sure I can find my father to assist, you really don’t need to—”

“I insist,” Benedict held up his hand, effectively cutting her off. “I shouldn’t allow a lady to carry such a thing on her own, it would be most improper.”

“I’m certainly no lady,” she scoffed, readjusting her apron. “I’m not a part of your ‘season’ or whatever it is you lot do during the spring and summer months.”

Benedict barked out a laugh. “Debuted into the Marriage Mart or not, you’re still a lady and I am ever the gentleman, so please, indulge me.”

A blinding heat flushed across her cheeks—she was sure it was visible from down the street. (Y/N) stepped to the side to allow Benedict to grab ahold of one side of the tray, her hands curling around the other. “Thank you… for your help.”

“It’s no bother,” Benedict said truthfully. “I’ve been practically bored out of my skull all afternoon, this is truly the highlight of my evening.”

“Helping me carry a cake?” She asked, turning a corner carefully.

“Seeing you again,” he hummed unabashedly, noting the way her grip stiffened. “Though I must say, I think I prefer you without the flour.”

“How do you know that girl was me? I was covered head to toe.”

“Your eyes,” Benedict said simply. “They’re the most expressive and exquisite eyes I’ve had the pleasure of viewing.”

Benedict Bridgerton. The man who made her speechless.

“That, and I made a bold assumption when I saw you and the pastries arrive this evening.” He laughed lightly, afraid to drop the masterpiece. “I assumed correctly, no?”

“You,” (Y/N) tried to allow her cheeks to cool before continuing.“Would be correct. Very wise you are, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Benedict.”

“Benedict,” she repeated softly, twisting herself to set the cake down on the table. “My apologies.”

The ballroom was grand—much nicer than any place she’d dream of residing in—delicate decorations hung from the sconces, flowers covered nearly every inch of the free space. It was, in every meaning, elegant. “This is… where you live?”

“Ah,” Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “My brother has been kind to allow me to stay here since he married, seeing as I only have my own property in the country. But yes, this is one of the homes I grew up in.”

“One of the homes,” she repeated back to him. “And here I thought I was spoiled with my broom closet.”

He turned a vibrant shade of red. “Oh! I didn't mean to—”

Her laughter filled the ballroom, the lightness practically lifting Benedict upwards. “I was merely teasing. I’m well aware of your status and wealth, Mr. Bridgerton—”

“Benedict.”

“Ah! Sorry,” (Y/N) felt the twinge of shame hit her chest, it was small but enough to keep her in line to avoid making the mistake again. “I meant it in jest.”

“Funny girl,” Benedict clicked, waving his finger lightly. “You’ve got quite a sense of humor.”

“Growing up with nothing more than sacks of flour and parcels of sugar allows one to get creative with her jokes,” she explained carefully, treading lightly as to not make it sound completely miserable. “Though, I think they were a better audience anyhow…”

“You wound me,” a hand grabbed his heart, knees buckling towards the ground. “Oh how the lady wounds me.”

“I believe I told you, Benedict, I certainly am no lady.”

“Well, the lady has neglected to give me her name,” he peeked up from the floor—having found quite a cozy position. “So how else should I address such a fair maiden?”

“Fair maiden,” she scoffed playfully, voice barely above a whisper. “Certainly am nothing close to a maiden… but, if you must know,” she paused, “my name is (Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“(Y/N)…” Benedict repeated it, mostly to himself. He rose from the floor, eyes not leaving her own. “What a beautiful name.”

“I—thank you. I suppose you should give my parents such a compliment, though. I am simply the recipient of such a gift.”

“Well, when I ask your parents for permission to court their daughter, I’ll pass the message along.”

She froze.

“Ah, what was that?”

“I hate to be so bold,” Benedict sighed, shoving a hand into his pocket. “But I feel the need to let you know of my intentions—my interest in you.”

“Oh you must be mistaken,” (Y/N) shook her head. “You’d want nothing to do with a girl like me. Surely there are other women in the ton who strike your fancy?”

“Nope,” he said simply. “Not a one. You, on the other hand, with your striking eyes and seemingly endless beauty, piqued my interest. If I may be honest, I haven’t stopped thinking about our encounter in the alley—it’s been on the forefront of my mind for days.”

She blinked, the gears in her head trying to keep up with the words Benedict was speaking. “But I am not from your world, Benedict. Even if I was interested in pursuing a courtship—”

“Are you not?” His eyes struck wide open. “I’m quite the catch, you see. Well-bred, scholarly and, if I might say so myself, I’m quite the talented artist. Easy on the eyes, too.”

“Benedict.” He stopped and looked at the woman. She was practically glowing in the candlelight. “While I’m not saying I’m… not interested, I can’t help but feel like you are infatuated with the idea of me and not… me.”

“How do you mean?”

She laughed humorlessly. “You don’t know me, truly. My likes, dislikes, how I take my tea, what weather I fancy—”

“See,” Benedict grabbed her hand, “I wish to know those things. Is that not the purpose of a courtship?”

“I am not from your world, Benedict. I have priorities, a duty to my family and our business—I can’t spend a moment thinking of the frivolity of a courtship with a man of your status.”

“But if I were, say, the butcher’s son it would be different?”

“Yes,” she removed her hand from his. “Of course it would be. I’m surprised you haven’t thought this through.”

“I have been thinking it through since we’ve met,” Benedict nearly spat, feeling anger bubble up in his chest. “I am not the type of man who wishes to court just anyone, you know.”

“So you wish to court me just because you can? Because how ever could I say no?”

“I—of course not!”

“We’re perfect strangers who shared a moment—albeit an endearing one—out in the middle of an alley. We both cleaned up and went about our lives,” she shook her head. “Nothing cosmic or magical about it.”

“I did not expect you to be so against the idea, unless… there’s another man of your affections?”

She groaned, pinching her nose. “No. No other man. Has a woman ever said no to you before, Mr. Bridgerton?”

He paused, clearly taken aback.

“Well,” she smoothed the tablecloth, the wrinkle in the bottom corner was annoying her, “let me be the first, then. No, I am not interested in a courtship, nor do I think I have any interest in a courtship—with you or anyone—so do not take it terribly too personally.”

“Never? Don’t you plan to have a family of your own?”

“I already have a family,” she said simply. “I have no time for foolish ideas of having an adoring husband, three beautiful babies and a peaceful life out in the country.”

“That seems awfully specific—”

“No matter,” she waved. “Thank you for your interest, Mr. Bridgerton, I am flattered, truly.”

She walked away, hoping to hide in the carriage the rest of the night. Was she a fool? To turn down a courtship from such a sophisticated and notable man of the ton?

Benedict seemed to think so. True to her comment, he couldn’t recall a time in which a woman had rejected his advances—never in the name of a courtship, this would be his first—so to watch her walk away stung deeply, like a thorn to his heart. He was genuinely interested in the girl, he knew it. He just needed to prove it to her.

—

Days had passed since the Bridgerton ball and (Y/N) had successfully faked a stomach ache and ‘rested’ in the carriage until the night was over and done with. She was busy in the kitchen, working hard on a batch of fresh loaves for the storefront. Flour dusted her apron—the humor not lost on her—as she thought more and more about Benedict’s proposal.

The bell to the shop rang out, her brother’s voice gave a muffled greeting, nothing out of the ordinary for a regular day at the bakery. It was calming, to work with the dough, taking virtually nothing and creating something delicious was soothing to her soul. She continued to knead the dough, working it like clay against her palms before the door to the back swung wide open.

“(Y/N), I do believe you have a visitor,” Harry, her second eldest brother smirked. He had finally recovered enough to help around the shop again, much to their mother’s delight. “One of the gentlemen variety, if you must know.”

She stopped dead in her tracks.

“Did he give you a name?”

“Only asked for you,” Harry shrugged. “I figured you must’ve been expecting him,” he walked closer to her, taking over the kneading, “brought you flowers and looks rather fancy.”

She wiped her hands off on the already soiled apron, clapping her hands once for good measure. “Don’t over-work those, I’ll shove your face into the oven.”

Harry’s laugh rang out through the kitchen as she braved the door to the store. She knew it was inevitable, to expect him to come and try to woo her again, though she wasn’t expecting it so soon. The door felt rough against her palms, swinging wide open to the storefront. Sure enough, a one Benedict Bridgerton was standing by the counter, eyeing the various loaves on display.

“Ah, Miss. (Y/L/N),” Benedict said, almost bowing. “I’m delighted you could join me.”

“Mr. Bridgerton,” (Y/N) smiled sickeningly sweet, forced beyond all measure. “What a… surprise.”

“A wonderful one, I presume?” He jested. Her eyes found the colorful bouquet quickly, she was trying her hardest to not make eye contact. It was ornate—fancy, just like her brother said—decked out in a healthy mix of wild blooms and expensive looking flowers. “Ah! My apologies, these are for you,” Benedict said, lifting the bouquet across the counter.

She reluctantly took them, cradling the bunch as if it were a newborn babe. “Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton.”

He swallowed thickly at the formality of his name, but bit his tongue. “I must say, you looked exquisite at the ball, but I think your natural element suits you more favorably, why, you’re practically glowing.” Benedict pointed to her floured apron and messy frock, having been in the kitchen all morning. “Less flour than the first time.”

Her grip tightened around the bouquet. “Is there anything I can help you with? Perhaps another order for your mother?”

The man shook his head, laughing lightly. “No, no order. I just wished to see you.” The bluntness of his answer nearly shocked her, but the effect wore quickly.

“Perhaps I wished the opposite?”

“Oh, my dear,” Benedict practically mewled. “If that were true, you wouldn’t have come out here in the first place, now would you?”

Like a gaping trout, she had no reply. Perhaps he was right. She didn’t have to come out to the front of the store, the gnawing curiosity got the better of her and practically pulled her through that door.

“If you are here to try to get me to change my mind—”

“I wish to spend the afternoon with you.”

She blinked.

“Just one afternoon, allow me to try and prove how serious I am about courting you,” Benedict said earnestly. “After that, if you are still of the same mind, I will never bother you again. You have my word.”

Hesitantly, she lowered the bouquet, her shoulders slumping. She was thinking so hard about his offer, Benedict swore he could see steam rising from her ears. “I… cannot just leave the bakery, it’s my family’s livelihood—”

“I’ll buy the lot,” Benedict said, pressing a handful of coins onto the counter top. “Sell me whatever it is you make in a day—a small price to pay for a moment of your time.”

“You cannot simply throw your money at things and expect it to always work out for you, Mr. Bridgerton,” she said sternly, eyeing the sack of coins longingly. She would be kidding herself if the offer didn’t sound appealing. “I am no woman on the corner, you cannot buy my time.”

“Then consider it a tip,” Benedict hummed, pushing the bag closer to her. “For your excellent service at the Bridgerton ball. Nothing nefarious, nothing expected of you. Just a man buying some bread.”

“Loads of bread,” (Y/N) mumbled, quickly calculating how many loaves he truly was willing to walk out with. The amount of money was unclear, but if she had to wager, he practically bought out the whole storefront. Her parents would be thrilled—they could even take a rare day off, just because their daughter spent the afternoon with a practical stranger. “Fine. One afternoon.”

The glee that washed across his body did not go unnoticed, he practically lit up the room with his joy.

“You won’t regret this,” he said seriously. “Trust that my intentions are pure and—”

“—honest and true,” she droned, finishing his thought. “Yes, yes, I understand.”

Benedict nodded. “Right. Well, shall we?”

“Will you allow me a moment to change? I do not think you wish to spend your day with a girl caked in flour.”

“Funny enough, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he grinned. She was unamused. “But, if you insist.”

It didn’t take long for her to clean up, a change in her frock and a readjustment to her hair was all that was needed. She found herself staring in her mirror a bit longer than usual, taking in her features. Could he really be interested in her? He seemed so taken by her looks when she herself considered them… so plain. She shook her head, effectively jumping out of her haze and proceeded to head back downstairs to meet her suitor for the afternoon.

“Perhaps you were right,” Benedict said softly. “This may be your best look to date.”

A heat warmed her cheeks and it wasn’t the summer sun. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Bridgerton—”

“Ah!” Benedict waved a finger. “If we are to spend the afternoon together, I insist you call me by my given name.”

Her lips pressed together in protest. “If you insist—”

“Oh and I do, my darling,” Benedict nearly sang.

“Benedict,” she corrected. “What sorts of plans do you have for this afternoon? Surely you did not produce such a grand gesture only to leave our day up to chance.”

“I am feeling quite parched,” Benedict said, almost ignoring her comment. “Care for a spot of tea?” In their walk down the street, he had managed to stop right in front of a quaint little tea shop. She hardly noticed.

“And if I do not care for tea?”

“I hear they have excellent scones and biscuits,” Benedict countered. “Surely not sweeter than you, but delicious all the same.”

“Sweeter than my scones, you mean?”

Benedict raised a brow, puckering his lips lightly. She heard him correctly the first time. “So. Tea?”

They sat at a small table near the back of the shop, a hot pot of herbal tea sat between them. It looked entirely domestic, a pot of tea shared between lovers, any onlooker could have deduced as much.

“Pass the honey?” (Y/N) pointed to the small jar next to Benedict’s hand. He nodded and pushed it closer to her.

“You take your tea with honey?” He probed.

“Herbal tea, yes,” she confirmed, stirring a spoonful into her cup. “If it is black tea, a healthy amount of milk is entirely welcomed in my drink, no sugar.”

“Interesting,” Benedict said, watching her intently stir the honey until it dissolved into the hot liquid. “I prefer plain black tea myself, though occasionally my brother Colin will bring exquisite teas from his travels across the seas.”

“And Colin is which brother?” The question slipped out quickly, she hardly noticed she had asked.

“One of my two younger brothers,” Benedict smiled gently. “Not much younger than I, but I do have a few years on him, not as many as I have on Gregory, of course. He’s practically the babe of the family—save for sweet Hyacinth.”

“Eight children…” She thought aloud. “Were your parents working towards a record number?”

“I always jest that they wished to complete the entire alphabet,” Benedict mused. “But, alas, twenty six seems a bit much.” He took a sip of his tea, enjoying the lingering aroma. “So, you know there are eight of us?”

“Everyone knows your family,” she said simply. “Do not flatter yourself.”

“Of course,” he hummed into his cup, a smile brewing from his lips. “You have siblings, yes? I believe I met your brother earlier.”

“Two older brothers,” (Y/N) groaned lightly. “Jack and Harry, the latter being the one you met. They are… oh how do I put this? Exceptionally irritating.”

Benedict laughed into his drink. “Sounds quite a lot like my siblings.”

“My parents expect Jack to take over the bakery,” she explained quietly, her voice lowering. “But he has no desire to bake whatsoever. He can hardly make a sponge cake.”

“And a sponge cake is…?”

“One of the most basic cake recipes a baker can learn,” she continued. “I usually end up being the one who pulls the slack Jack creates.”

“And Harry?”

“When he isn’t galavanting across town with the ladies of the night, he is holed up in his room doing Lord knows what. Certainly nothing that helps the family business.”

“You care a lot about your family and the business,” Benedict said, stating what is clearly the obvious. “Surely your parents see it too?”

“Oh no,” she shook her head wildly. “That is the most asinine part of the ordeal! They simply do not see me as an asset to the bakery—something that should rightfully be mine should the time come.” She sighed, throwing her head into her hands. “But, I am expected to keep my head down and decorate cakes like a good girl.”

“You say that as if you are their pet,” Benedict scoffed lightly. “Do they truly expect such obedience from you?”

“I wasn’t wanted,” she said simply. “My parents merely wanted a son to take over the business—Jack, he’s the oldest. Good for nothing, as it turns out. Harry was to have an extra set of hands around the bakery, but now he’s their prodigal child. Me? I was shacked with an over glorified closet for a room because there truly was no space for me.” She sniffled. “At least they got a decorator out of it.”

Benedict tentatively put his hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “You’re more than a decorator. Surely your parents see that too?”

“They’ll see some use of me when I get home,” she said into her cup. “Seeing as you bought out our store just to spend a measly few hours with me. I’m sure that in of itself is worth having an accidental daughter.”

Benedict all but scoffed at this. “You cannot be serious.”

“Not everyone comes from loving families that wish to do nothing more than pop out babies left and right,” (Y/N) deadpanned, placing her cup back on the table. “If it were truly up to my parents, they would’ve stopped after Jack. But, much like the society you come from, an heir and a spare, I suppose.”

“And you?” Benedict almost felt afraid to ask.

“It’s like you said,” she finished her cup of tea. “I am simply a pet.”

Benedict was never one for fights, but he suddenly had the urge to put his fist through a handful of faces in that moment. “That’s awful.” It was all he could say.

“That’s life,” she shrugged, picking up a biscuit and examining it closely. Her nose scrunched. “If you were trying to gain my favor, perhaps you should’ve taken me somewhere with better biscuits. It’s insulting to a baker to see such poorly made ones, especially in a place like this.”

He knew she was trying to change the subject. “I shall do better next time.”

“Yes, I suppose you—” she stopped. “That was a rotten trick and you know it.”

“I am certainly no magician, (Y/N),” Benedict finished his tea, hiding the most devilish of smiles from behind the cup. “But seeing as we’re finished with our pot, perhaps we can take a turn about the park?”

“You’d risk public outcry and a scandal for being seen with a commoner in the park?” (Y/N) asked, pulling herself from her seat. “What would Lady Whistledown say?”

“You know of Lady Whistledown?”

“Everyone knows of Lady Whistledown,” she scoffs. “I may not have the pleasure to afford her column every time she publishes, but occasionally our regulars will leave their pamphlet for me once they’re finished.”

“Only read the good bits, I take it?”

“As much as I don’t understand the world you come from, Benedict, reading Whistledown helps me fill the gaps I am so obviously lacking. Truly, even if I did grow up in your society, I doubt I’d be able to understand much more than I do now anyway.”

“I reckon you’re right,” Benedict said, a laugh escaping through his nose. “I’m not one for society anyway—never cared much for it.”

“Surely news of this would cause a scandal, though?”

“News that I am simply walking in the park with a friend? Oh how the newsboys will have trouble selling that story,” Benedict mused, leaning down towards the lady. “Perhaps if we were seen doing something less proper, I suppose. Do you wish to be doing something less proper, (Y/N)?”

She didn’t dignify his question with a response, though, the rouge on her cheeks was answer enough.

—

It only took a handful of minutes to walk to the park, the tea shop was so close already. How convenient.

The other ladies in the park, the ones of a more genteel breeding, they were dressed finer than anything (Y/N) could have put on. She felt out of place. She usually did, of course, but something about her outdated frock in contrast to how striking Benedict looked and dressed? It felt rather foolish.

Perhaps it was the notoriety of the Bridgerton walking beside her, or the self consciousness of being underdressed enough to catch the eyes of anyone walking past, but it felt like she was a spectacle—something in a museum or on display. She was holding bright light, nearly shouting at everyone that she was not enough, not worthy to be in this park, let alone with this man.

“I am tired of walking,” (Y/N) said suddenly.

“We have only just begun,” he laughed. “But if you require a respite—”

“Let’s sit,” (Y/N) said just as quickly, practically running to the edge of the pond. Perfectly out of sight to everyone.

“How secluded,” Benedict mused. “I daresay, I never thought you’d be so agreeable—”

“Hush,” (Y/N) admonished, holding a finger up. “I am simply in need of a break—away from prying eyes.”

Benedict nodded, not daring to pry further. He watched her slump to the ground, her dress skirt billowing around her like a cloud before settling to the gravity. He continued to stand. “I rather like this park.”

“A park is a park.”

“Have you been before?”

“Here?” She shook her head. “Obviously not.”

“My family, we would come to London during the social season,” Benedict explained. “Our usual residence is out in Kent—anyhow, my father had this spectacular notion to come to the park every week as a family. Looking back, it was probably to save face and show a united Bridgerton front.”

She looked up at Benedict, who was currently plucking a few leaves off of the low hanging branches of the tree. “Sounds wise.”

“He was the wisest,” Benedict agreed. “Keeping the ever-growing number of Bridgerton children entertained became a sport. Anthony, Colin and I were always squabbling, drove my mother rightfully insane, so, my father had a bright idea.”

“Paste your lips together?” She offered.

Benedict knelt down, close to the edge of the water. “No, but I do not doubt that idea crossed their minds,” he laughed, bringing the leaves in his hands to view, “my father suggested racing.”

“Horse racing?”

He shook his head. “We’d each pick a leaf and follow it to the other edge of the pond—kept us entertained for hours, running back and forth to reset our leaves and chase them down.”

“Smart man,” she hummed, genuinely impressed by the late viscount’s cleverness.

“So, pick your contender,” Benedict said softly, displaying the spare leaves like cards in a deck.

“You are serious?”

“Dead serious, I’m afraid,” Benedict clicked, pushing his hand a bit closer to her. “Come on, humor me.”

She looked down at the leaves and back up at Benedict, his blue eyes rivaling the color of the pond. Taking an interest in the middle leaf—it was the longest and skinniest—she plucked it from his fingers. “This one.”

“Excellent choice,” Benedict said cheerily, dropping the other leaves. “I am more inclined to a smaller one—seems they move faster down the shore.”

“Size isn’t everything, Mr. Bridgerton,” (Y/N) crossed her arms, resting them on her knees. She would never dare to admit it out loud, but she was having a bit of fun.

“Ah, perhaps not,” Benedict jested with her, her jab not even shocking him in the slightest. “But, I reckon it will be a close match regardless.”

After insuring that the lovely lady in his company was watching his movements closely, he set the leaves down on the surface of the water. “Finish line is by that tree over there,” he pointed, finally letting go with his other hand.

“May the best leaf win,” she giggled. Giggled? Good Lord. A crooked grin cracked on his face, focused too intently at the company rather than the match at hand. “Are you not going to chase them?”

“And leave you?” He scoffed. “Perish the thought.”

“I just thought,” her gaze was caught on the leaves, still floating down the edge of the pond—slower than she anticipated, “well, I suppose I wanted to get the whole picture of your family tradition.”

“Shall I run along the coast, then?” Benedict asked playfully, rising back to his feet, thumb pushed towards the water.

“Only to humor me,” she shrugged, not even fighting the smile on her face.

“Well, in that case,” Benedict began to remove his jacket, throwing it beside her. With a light jog he caught up to the leaves, they hadn’t gone very far anyway, perhaps if it were a windier day he’d have a faster time to keep up with. “You are in the lead!” He called out.

“Brilliant!” Her hands were clasped around her mouth, a cone to help amplify her shout. His smile was like the sun, warm and inviting—she wished she could spend the day in such a warmth. Benedict practically jumped for joy when the leaves made it to the final stretch, crossing to the rocks on the shore. Nearly falling into the water, he managed to scoop the leaves up and jog back to the woman in the grass. “Well?”

“Well, what?” He asked, nearly out of breath, smile still pulling his lips upward.

“The winner?”

“Ah,” he fell to the ground, sitting comfortably next to the baker’s daughter, pocketing the leaves. “A secret.”

“So you lost?”

“Oh, I assure you, if you won I would be celebrating you until the end of our time together,” Benedict sang. “However…”

“I lost?” She scoffed.

“A gentleman is humble in his successes,” he explained carefully. “We could go again?”

“No,” she said, humor in her voice. “I think that was more than enough excitement for one afternoon.”

“For once, we agree,” he said. “May I…? Could I ask you a question?”

“If you are proposing marriage, I am afraid I’ll have to decline—”

“No, no,” he laughed heartily. “Nothing of that sort.”

“I suppose I could find it in myself to answer a different question, then.”

“You were cold to me this morning,” Benedict noted, twirling a blade of grass between his fingers. “But not on the day we met. What changed?”

She sighed, pulling her knees to her chest, gaze locked out on the now setting sun. “I… am not entirely sure.”

“Surely it was not the leaves—”

“The leaves may have helped,” she admitted. “Humanized you, in a way.”

“Was I inhuman before?”

“Naturally,” she retorted. “I mean, is it not obvious?”

“You were protecting your feelings,” Benedict finally realized. “All this time. You did not wish to be hurt—truly afraid I was merely stringing you along as an elaborate prank or ruse? Is that right?”

“How could someone like you ever have an interest in a pauper like me? The baker’s daughter and the son of a viscount?” Tears dotted her eyes, threatening to fall. How she came so close to crying was beyond her. “It seems implausible.”

Benedict dropped the grass, fully looking at the lady beside him. She had made herself nearly as small as she felt. He had hit the nail on the head. A gust of wind blew by, bringing leaves down from the tree above.

“I do not think less of you because of whose daughter you are,” Benedict said softly, removing a stray leaf from her hair. His fingers guided her head towards him, begging for her to look his way. “I care only about you. Getting to know you. Frankly, your father seems like a mostly alright man, but I do not wish to know him the way I wish to know you.”

“You may wish for that,” she sniffled. “But what would the rest of your world think? You, trying to court a woman below your status—”

“The only people who should be caring so deeply about my potential courtship are my intended and me,” Benedict said sharply. “The rest of the ton can frankly kiss my rear end.”

This raised a laugh out of her. It was bubbly and pure, almost like the one of a child. “You truly don’t care what people think about you?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I do not.”

“How freeing that must be,” she said.

“Being the second son has its perks,” Benedict looked at her, really looked at her. “No one expects me to be proper all the time. I am given the freedom—financially and otherwise—to do as I please. I do not have to worry about inheriting a title, siring heirs, that is my brother’s responsibility.”

“Why me?”

His head quirked. “I do not understand?”

“You could court any girl of the ton,” she said. “And I am sure more than half of them would never turn down a chance to be courted by a Bridgerton—”

“They wished for the title,” Benedict sighed. “To be Viscountess Bridgerton, to marry my older brother and have the notoriety. That ship has already sailed, I'm afraid. You are kind in thinking that many women would be after me though.”

“You are not ugly,” she listed, “you have a great humor about you, a pleasant demeanor and a kindness in your eyes. The women of the ton must be foolish, then.”

“Perhaps the foolish one is you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You truly think those things about me?” He asked, awaiting a response. Her jaw was slack, clearly not about to give him any sort of confirmation to his question. “I believe your words, I do. But perhaps you should look at yourself with such eyes?”

“I-I don’t understand—”

“Our class differences aside,” Benedict said, as if it was easy to just ignore that, “while I was taken by your beauty at first—your eyes are something the Gods themselves forged in the fires, stars rivaling their shine—it was your continuous personality that kept my attention. Granted, it helped you were once covered head-to-toe in flour, it really brought out your features.”

Her cheeks flared at the recollection of their first meeting. “It was not my finest moment.”

“And you were vulnerable all the same,” he continued. “You cared not for who I was, yet, you showed an interest in me anyway. You may not agree with that statement, but you and I know it to be true in some shape or form. The only thing that holds you back is this notion on our classes—”

“Perhaps I am interested in you,” (Y/N) cut him off. “Perhaps I wish to be courted by you, attend balls and dress in pretty gowns, drinking expensive drinks and whispering sweet nothings. But that is all that it is—a wish. I know my place in this world, it is a right shame you have such a fantasy about yours.”

“(Y/N)…”

“No,” she stood up, brushing the blades of grass and leaves off of her skirt. “I hoped that you would understand, Benedict. I agreed to this afternoon because it felt like I had no choice in the matter—you practically bought my time, after all. What I did not expect,” she hiccuped, “I did not expect that I would enjoy such an afternoon.”

“You enjoyed yourself,” Benedict rose to his feet, desperate to match her gaze head on. “Why can you not allow yourself to have that joy? Allow your heart to follow its call?”

“I do not have such liberties to listen to my heart,” (Y/N) said softly. “I must use my head for every choice I make. An afternoon with you allowed my family to have enough money to make it through the end of the season without going hungry—”

“And an afternoon with me has brought such happiness to fill your soul for much longer—”

“Happiness has little importance,” she scoffed. “I would rather see my family healthy and surviving than even think about a notion like happiness or joy.”

“You have said yourself that your family treats you like a pet,” Benedict took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He needn’t explode in the park. “Why do you care so much about them if they care so little for you?”

“Because it is all that I know!” The candle had finally reached its end, burning out with a sizzle. “All I have ever known is my life in the bakery, rising early to make the dough, peddling samples to those walking by and hoping—praying—that they step in our store and purchase something. Because a sale of a few loaves of bread or cakes meant we could afford to buy vegetables for a soup, something to eat with our days old bread.”

“If you were with me, you wouldn’t ever need to think about things like that again,” Benedict said, his voice wavering on a whisper. “I could support you, support your family.”

“And that is precisely why I do not wish to continue this,” she raised her finger. “I do not need an affluent man to come and save me—”

“But I could help—”

“I do not need your help!”

“You obviously do!”

She took a step back, the tears from before finally reappearing in her eyes. “O-obviously? Because I am of a lower class you believe, in that giant and empty head of yours, that you can simply win my favor by saving me? Offering riches and experiences that I should be grateful and thanking every God that will listen that you are even willing to give me?”

“You know that is not what I meant—”

“You believe that because you are who you are, and I am who I am, that I couldn’t possibly say no to you,” her gaze flicked with anger, a fire looming. “While the ladies of the ton have their choices, I do not, so it makes it easy for you to pine over someone who simply has no choice in the matter.”

“No—(Y/N)—”

“This afternoon has been lovely,” (Y/N) spat, looking to the skyline—the sun had finally set, “but I am afraid that the afternoon is over. I shall be taking my leave.”

“Please reconsider,” Benedict begged, willing to try anything to get her to stay. “I wish to know you.”

“A shame, then,” (Y/N) said, turning around. “Wishing for something so foolish.”

—

“Her head is in the clouds,” Jack whispered.

“No, I reckon her head is in the dough,” Harry mumbled back to his brother.

“I can hear you, you know,” (Y/N) ground out, working hard on a rather unruly clump of dough that simply would not cooperate. “And if I can hear you, you are close enough to be helping.”

“But that is so exhausting," Harry groaned, leaning against the countertop. “Besides, how are you ever going to impress your betrothed if you do not keep such toned arms?”

She threw the dough against the counter—hard. “He is not my betrothed.”

“But you wish for him to be, no?” Jack giggled, playing with a few burnt buns—a mishap of his own creation.

“I say, Sister,” Harry said. “Why do you not pursue that Bridgerton? He clearly is interested in you, or, have you forgotten all of the flowers he has sent?”

The front of the shop was practically a florist’s dream—covering every free inch of counter space with beautiful bouquets. Her mother simply refused to throw out such lovely blooms, even going so far as to fish the first one out of the trash after her daughter made quick work to dispose of it. “How could I possibly forget about the man who continuously flaunts his wealth to get what he wants?”

“He wants you, surely that is not lost on you?”

“Of course not,” she continued to knead, a few hairs falling into her face. “But he is so insistent on getting me to agree to his whims simply because—”

“He has money, (Y/N),” Jack scoffed. “Good money. Christ, you spent half of a day with him a few weeks ago and we were able to finally purchase meat for dinner. Imagine if you married him—”

“So you want your sister to be married off for your own financial gain?”

“What else would you marry for?” Harry laughed. “Love?”

She stopped kneading. “Why do you not go and try to marry a wealthy lady, then? Hm? Surely a woman of genteel breeding would be much taken by the idea of a rugged baker—”

“That Bridgerton is already interested,” Harry shrugged. “At the very least, if you end up with child he would provide enough funds—”

“First you wish to marry me off, now you wish for me to have his bastard?” She couldn’t help but laugh, ignoring her hard work on the counter. “Why can I not make my own choice? I do not wish to be with Mr. Bridgerton, I wish to stay here at the bakery.”

“Fucking stupid,” Jack scoffed. “If I were in your shoes, I would let the gentleman pay for anything my heart desires—forget about this wretched place and move on with my life.”

“And abandon our legacy?”

“You mean my legacy,” Jack corrected. “I am to inherit the bakery, it is my birthright. You? I suppose I will allow you to continue your grunt work here—”

“Who else will do the baking?” Her voice rang throughout the kitchen. “Mother and Father are nearing the end of their career, both becoming too frail to continue with the rigorous task of this place. I am the only one—the only competent member of this family who can keep this shit afloat! And you want me to just… give that up?”

Jack stood a little straighter. “It was never your place.”

“Harry is set to inherit the bakery now, you know it. Yet someone had to fill the shoes of the family fuck-up instead, no?”

It was a sharp pain, suddenly and all at once against her cheek. It took her only half a second later to realize what had happened, her other brother’s face was only a confirmation on the fact.

“Jack, what the hell?!” Harry practically screamed. “You hit her?”

“She insulted me!”

“You deserved it,” Harry said, pushing his older brother back. “She only spoke the truth—”

“So I am allowed to be walked over by my baby sister?” Jack scoffed, pushing Harry back. “A woman? No fucking chance, mate.”

Her hand had covered her cheek, already feeling warm to the touch. Everything was too much, too loud, too bright. She had to get out of there, had to forget all about the dough on the counter, forgetting all about the brother who had just smacked her silly. The back door wasn’t locked—no surprise as Jack was the last one to use it—making it easy for her to push into the alleyway and into the rain.

Rain.

Pelting like bullets, the wet drenched her clothing in a mere instant, making it harder to escape. Where had she planned to run anyway? She had nowhere to go, her entire world was contained to the four walls of the bakery, never daring to explore the rest of it, not when her world was already so encompassing, so inviting.

In theory, anyway, it seemed.

So, she ran. A mix of running and walking, she kept moving forward. By the time she left her part of town, she knew her brothers would not bother coming for her. The rain alone was a deterrent, even Harry, the one who loved her more, wouldn’t dare to brave the elements just to reel his sister’s whims in.

A splotch of purple entered her vision. How long had she been moving? Did she even expect to come here? Did her subconscious send her in this direction for a reason?

She knocked on the bright door before she could find out.

“Good evening, ma’am,” a butter said politely. “What business do you have?”

“I am here to call upon Benedict Bridgerton.”

—

His quill had soaked the parchment below with ink, having left the tip upon it for far too long. He had been lost in thought, contemplative, especially the last few weeks. Benedict knew he had hurt her, had insulted her very being, yet he still tried. Every other day he’d send a fresh bouquet to the bakery, a new poem attached to the stems. Perhaps she read them? He knew it was more likely that she burned them, in the ovens or otherwise.

At the very least, he knew that the blooms were being displayed at the shop. Hope. That is what it had given him.

“Mr. Bridgerton, you have a caller,” a butler knocked, opening his door a crack wider.

“A caller? In this weather?”

“She seemed rather insistent,” the butler shrugged. “She is waiting in the drawing room—I already sent for tea and towels for the lady.”

“A lady is here to see me?” Benedict quirked his brow.

“A Miss. (Y/L/N),” the butler said. “No calling card, soaked to the bone and she seemed a bit… out of sorts.”

Benedict had already risen from his desk, practically pushing past the staff member to reach the stairs. Missing a step or two, he made it to the drawing room and shoved the door open. In the center of the blue room was (Y/N), dripping onto the wooden floor, shaking like a leaf.

“(Y/N)…”

“I-I had nowhere else to go,” she began to explain. “I did not even realize I was here until I knocked on the door. It was foolish—”

“No,” Benedict shook his head, reaching to take her hand in his own. “It is quite alright. You are more than welcome to be here.”

His hands were warm, or perhaps she was just that cold, making them feel like a fire. “I am so sorry, Benedict.”

“For what?” He asked genuinely.

“Everything?” She offered. “I-I am not sure of what, exactly, but I feel that I need to apologize.”

“You needn’t apologize for anything,” he said. “Not with me, not ever.”

She looked up at the ceiling, afraid to make contact with his blue stare. “I needed to get away. My brother he—Jack hit me.”

Benedict froze, his entire body went rigid. “I’ll kill him.”

“I suppose I deserved it,” she shrugged, now looking at the ground. “Talking back to him, assuming things that could never be—”

“A man has assaulted you,” Benedict squeezed her hand tighter. “Brother or not, he put his hands on you. You did nothing of the sort to deserve such a thing.”

“I don’t think I can go back there,” (Y/N) said softly. “Perhaps this was just the moment that gave me clarity. Opened my eyes, so to speak.”

Benedict took a good look at her face, red and splotchy, whether it was from the smack or the tears, he could not tell. “Tea is on the way, I shall request a cold compress for your cheek—”

“I do not wish to impose.”

“You shall wish for nothing here,” Benedict said quietly, firmly. “You will stay until the rain lets up, or, you provide me with a suggestible plan for your next steps.”

“I cannot go back,” she finally looked up at Benedict. “As much as I would like to, I simply cannot.”

“If you do not want to go back, I will support you. If you want to leave town, the country even, I will support you,” he said seriously. “Please allow me to support you.”

“I could never ask you for that—”

“You are not asking, I am offering,” he clarified.

“Benedict…”

The rain seemed to lessen, if the pelting against the window had anything to say about it. The noise had dimmed, not as violent as before. “To know that you are safe, that you are cared for, that is all I care about.”

So, in the center of the blue Bridgerton drawing room, soaked to the bone and dripping all over the floor, she kissed him. It was a sudden thing, pulling him down towards her lips, the contact much quicker than she had expected. He returned the favor in kind, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, kissing her in a way he had yet to truly experience.

If his hands were like a fire, his lips were an inferno. Fighting for dominance, it was all encompassing. How had she gone so long without a feeling such as this? The burn was coming from inside, not a superficial one atop her skin as she was quite used to, but this burn, this feeling, she could find herself craving this.

“I-I am sorry—” she pulled away.

“Never be sorry,” Benedict shook his head. “Not for that, not ever.”

“I should not have done that…”

“No,” he agreed, a chuckle leaving his lips, “but how exhilarating it felt, regardless.”

His thumb ran lazy circles on her jaw. She leaned into the touch. “I do not know what to do, where to go…”

“But you cannot stay here…?”

She smiled sadly. “You know me scarily well, Benedict.”

He thought for a moment. “So… leave.”

“Excuse me?”

“Leave town, leave the country—”

“I do not have the means to do such a silly thing.”

“I will pay your way.”

She scoffed, trying to pull out of his embrace. He wouldn’t release his grip. “Benedict…”

“I told you, I wish to support you. Emotionally, financially, I want to be there for you,” Benedict said. “Even if we are not—if you do not want to be together romantically, I want to ensure your safety and your health, your well-being. A friend.”

She tried to find the lie in his eyes, in his tone. Coming up empty, she had no excuse to not believe him.

“France,” he said, as if struck by lightning.

“France?”

“I hear only the expert bakers study in France—I have no doubts you could go to learn,” he explained. “I could pay for your travel, housing, you name it. Ask for it, and it is yours.”

“I doubt anyone would want to teach a woman, no matter how lovely a thought it might be.”

“I have a cousin,” Benedict explained. “Her and her husband own a café—I am quite certain that they would love to hire an expert baker to add to their inventory and menu. You could earn your own income, make your own way. A fresh start.”

“A fresh start…” she repeated. “That sounds too good to be true.”

“I shall write to her in the morning,” Benedict said, holding her hands again.

“And you…?”

“I will only come with you if you want me to join,” Benedict said slowly. “I will not trap you. I want your happiness, your freedom.”

She nodded, understanding.

“I think France sounds nice,” she smiled. “Will you write to me?”

“Every chance I get.”

“Even if you are vexed with me?”

“Especially if I am vexed with you.”

She kissed his lips again, sweeter and softer than the first time.

“Sounds perfect.”

—

A year. An entire year had passed and she couldn’t recall a happier time in her life. The only time that something could have rivaled it was a visit to a tea shop followed by a respite by a pond—in handsome company all the while.

They kept correspondence, just like they promised. Every week came a new letter, a new story to be told by the poetic Benedict Bridgerton. She tried to rival his words, explaining every detail about France, about her new life, but something was nagging. She missed him. They had grown close over the correspondence, leaving her heart wanting more. But, she knew when she left for France it was to fulfill her dreams, leaving a foolish notion like love on the back burner.

“(Y/N),” Marie, the Bridgerton cousin, called out behind her. “We are in need of more buns.”

“I just restocked the buns,” (Y/N) giggled, turning to the blonde. “What? Has someone mysteriously bought the lot?”

“Oui,” Marie said with a jest, heading into the storage room, “perhaps you should go bring more out?”

“You are in luck, the last batch just finished resting from the oven,” she said, carrying a tray on her shoulder, “I will bring them out with haste.”

“I am sure he will appreciate it.”

(Y/N) faltered, hand already pressed to the door leading to the front shop. A tingle ran through her spine, her heart picking up to a freeing flutter.

Could it be?

“You know, I would buy your entire stock,” the man hummed, looking thoughtfully into the display case, “but I fear I would be recreating a rather taxing memory for the both of us.”

“Benedict,” she gasped, nearly dropping her tray.

“You look radiant,” he mused, that wicked grin of his breaking on his face. “Much like the first time I saw you—covered in flour.”

“I am in my element,” (Y/N) said sweetly, “just as you would expect.” She had noticed that Marie and her husband were not in the café, the sign flipped to close. “You planned this.”

“Do you insinuate that I bribed my distant cousin to close her café to give you the day off, travel all the way to France, hoping I could spend the day with you?” Benedict scoffed playfully. “You truly do not know me at all.”

“I do not think Marie would take a bribe,” (Y/N) said slyly, knowing how much of a champion the cousin had been for the baker and viscount’s son to get together.

“She refused payment,” he admitted, agreeing with her notion. “But, was ever eager to see you get out of the kitchen and enjoy yourself.”

“You hadn’t written to me in two weeks,” (Y/N) said, walking around the counter. “I was worried.”

“I needed to refrain from our correspondence, I fear I would have let the surprise slip otherwise.”

“Smart man,” she hummed.

“I am known to be smart occasionally,” he shrugged.

“What are you doing here?” She finally asked. “N-not that I am not happy to see you, of course, but as you had said, this is a surprise.”

“I came to study art,” Benedict said, a hand in his coat pocket. “I felt that if I truly wanted to learn the craft, I needed to learn from the masters—many of their works are housed here in France. I even began to rent a little home in town, finding the need to stay a while.”

“That is the only reason?”

Benedict’s gaze softened. “Of course it is not the only reason.”

Her heart fluttered again.

“It is only fair that I try this again, correctly and without the prying eyes of society, this time,” Benedict said, clearing his throat and spinning around.

“Correctly?” She giggled, watching him twirl to face the door.

“Ah, good morning miss!” Benedict said, turning back to face (Y/N). “I must say, you look ever-so-pretty—tell me, do all bakers have a beauty such as your own?”

“I would wager no,” she said, trying to keep serious. “Most of the bakers around here are men.”

“Shame. Might I learn your name? It seems only fair—I fear I might just die if I do not know the sweet sound of it.”

“(Y/N),” she sang. “My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Benedict Bridgerton,” he stretched out his hand, reaching for her own. She allowed him to take it, a soft kiss was placed on the back of her cracked hand—a working hand, one that she was proud to have.

“You are very charming, Mr. Bridgerton,” she hummed, looking deeply into his blue eyes. “Pleased to make your company.”

“I assure you, I am more pleased to be in yours,” Benedict insisted, kissing her hand again. “Tell me, do you have plans this afternoon?”

“It seems my schedule has cleared up,” she looked to the sign on the door and sighed. “Why? Do you have any suggestions on how I should spend it?”

“Might we take a turn around the park? A friend of mine has written to me about just how lovely one nearby is, I reckon I would like to see it for myself.”

She smiled brightly at him, as if he held the world in his hands. Instead, he held two leaves between his fingers—brown and cracked, but clearly treated with such care. They had been the same ones from their time at the park the first go around, she was nearly certain. Why else would he bring dead leaves with him?

"Leaves?"

"You see, my family, we have this tradition of racing with leaves—I would very much like to share it with you. These two in particular seem to be very lucky, thought it would be best to bring them along."

His smile melted her heart, endearing and thoughtful in the same breath. She could get used to a smile like that.

“Well… what are we waiting for, Mr. Bridgerton?”

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #this is a doozy and i am sorry #but only a little bit!!!

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yandereend · 4 months

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Yandere Househusband

How he met his spouse

TW: usual yandere stuff, male yandere, obsessive behavior, yandere wants children

Please keep in mind that English is not my native language thanks💛

P. 1 please let me know if you want more

P.2💛

Doesn’t everyone just hope to one day find the perfect partner and settle down with them, start a family and live happily ever after. Thats exactly what our little Tyler always wanted.

Tyler came from a nice home, he was an only child but his parents had a lot of love for him, and even more for each other. He always admired his parents relationship, his father being the strong breadwinner and his mother being the docile housewife. It was the perfect relationship in Tylers eyes and there was nothing he wanted more than to have that too.

In school Tyler couldn’t care less about his grades, it’s not like he was incapable of learning, quite the opposite but he didn’t see a reason to spend his time learning about math or physics if he wanted to be a househusband anyways. Thats right my dear readers Tyler was just waiting to find the right spouse to settle down with.

So for that reason alone he always made an effort to appear put together and pretty in school, he was lucky to have enough confidence to not let others opinions about his appearance affect him. So he was always helpful, nice and friendly to everyone. But even with his best efforts he couldn’t find the one. Thanks to his obsessive nature he often over thought his love life and if he will end up alone. (Your in 10th grade chill dude)

All that until the greatest day of his life were he met you. You were the new student and he immediately volunteered to show you around, became your partner in assignments and your new best friend.

To be honest you were smitten by Tyler, nobody gave you that much attention before and it wasn’t long before the schools pretty boy was your boyfriend. Tyler was thrilled that everyone in the school knew that you were his and he yours. And oh dear how Tyler admired you, you were so attractive, strong, smart and capable. He was so excited to finally settle down (dudes only 17), after graduation.

And Tyler always wanted to impress you, he would join his mother while cooking making sure to pack your lunch, clean your room while he visited you and even did your laundry. Wait didn’t you have more underwear?

And in exchange he just wanted to be pampered back. He would give you his bag if it was heavy, would depend on you for homework and always expected you to stand up to the jocks when they made fun of his more feminine clothes.

And oh did I mention that Tyler was a little bit manipulative, just a tad bit but I mean why would you need friends, you can go shopping with Tyler. Your family goes on vacation? Ditch them and go with Tylers family instead, they have the money don’t worry. You should also consider his parents, they were so supportive of him and you, his dad even showed you the family business if you wanna inherit it.

So when your graduation day finally came you and Tyler hosted a party together, and after you had a few drinks Tyler dropped on his knee and asked the big question, to which you in your tipsy state happily agreed.

So don’t be surprised when 2 months later Tylers parents bought you two a house (yes they’re that rich), your Tylers dads new intern and your lovely fiancé plans the most romantic wedding ever. And hey, there’s no escaping now darling.

Thanks for reading please let me know if you enjoyed it 💛

#yandere fic #yandere community #obsessive yandere #yandere core #yandere x reader #yandere househusband #soft yandere #sub yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere bf #yandere x darling #yandere stories #yandere imagines #yandere intro #yandere writing #yandere male #yandere x y/n #yandere concept #yandere

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lovingjingyuan · 4 months

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I wonder: How would hsr boys react to someone trying to take pics up ur skirt? This is an unhinged thought that I’ve thought to long, please cure this weird thinking.

Characters: Avneturine, Jing Yuan, Blade, Sunday, Boothill

Aventurine

When Aventurine caught sight of a creepy man attempting to take inappropriate photos under your skirt while you were dress shopping for clothes, he was appalled and disgusted.

“Check this green dress out. It’s like the color of an aventurine. I think it would look dashing on you” He threw in a little wink with his words, while deliberately trying to divert your attention away from the unsettling situation.

With a reassuring smile he added, “this one's on me, spend freely.” He presented you with the beautiful dress on a hanger, while planning on taking you to the evening ball hosted by the IPC for the executives.

Oh but he makes sure in the background he discreetly makes sure to contact someone from the IPC technology department to delete every piece of data, wiping everything off that creepy man’s phone. He also arranged a few of his IPC bodyguards, instructing them to follow that man so he can deal with him ‘personally’ later.

Jing Yuan

(Husband♡) Jing Yuan is a gentleman. He doesn’t want to concern you with these, wanting to save you the embarrassment and tainting your mind of peace. What truly astonishes him is the fact one of his very own staff members working at the Seat of Divine Foresight is involved in such despicable behavior. Towards his lover too!

“Ahem ahem,” he clears her throat, catching your attention. “Love, could you spare a moment and help me sort out these files?”

As you approach him he slickly wraps an arm around your waist pulling you into his embrace. He just can’t bear the thought of anyone seeing you in such a vulnerable way. Anyone that’s not him :( he loves his darling too much for anyone to be ogling at you.

Without any sort of explanation he sat you down on his chair and covered your lap in a blanket. You’re confused and puzzled by his random action but he’s fuming in anger under his facade smile.

He’s determined to address this issue in the most “legal” way possible. If he could.

Bladie!!!

He would either glare intensely at the point to the point the creepy man would delete the picture out of sheer intimidation. Orrrrr, Blade might just go over and greet them with his sword. As simple as that 🤷‍♀️

His glare alone is a death sentence, especially when he’s protecting his beloved. He loves you very much; just has a hard time expressing it!

Sunday

How could anyone commit such sinful and absurd acts, escapilly towards his beloved! He frowns upon any lewd or disrespectful behavior. Sunday would be absolutely speechless and consumed by fuming rage and disgust, staring at your offender.

Regaining his composer, he approaches you with a mask smile hiding the intense emotions he felt, “Just a moment,” he says, glancing at you. “We mustn’t be late for our outing my dear,” He extends one hand out for your hand. Despite his calm demeanor, his other hand clenched tightly behind his back.

He averts his gaze directed towards the man behind you. “Please report to the BloodHound they will like to meet with you,” he says, his voice with strained restraints.

Sunday hurriedly leads you away. Although Sunday may be a forgiving priest he had limits which that man crossed. He;s immensely disappointed that something like this would occur in Penacony’s dreamscape where everyone is supposed to be and feel relaxed in the hands of The Family. And he’s more upset it occurred to his beloved.

Boothill

he will confront and make a scene cause you're his darling.

Boothill wants to spit out the most profound language but his system won't let him. seeing a man taking pictures of his darling? Fudge no! unacceptable!

"Muddle Fuger, what are you doing?" he tries cussing out the creepy man startling the man with their phone under your skirt.

"Son of a nice lady! What the heck are you doing to my girl?!" He makes a big scene, causing the man to panic because everyone turns their attention to this scene.

he's ready to whip out his revolver and protect his darling. Maybe after this he would take off his hat and put it behind your bum to cover you up as you two walk back from the embarrassing situation.

------------------

I finally finished exams! blah blah blah. I'm bored af summer and I've been play wuwa! I love PGR Roland so I played cause it's from Kuro games. And omg Geshu Lin!!! He looks like Jing Yuan thats why I like him.

Avneturine Rant: Also I can't help this but I'm becoming obssed with Avneturine. I showed my friend an edit of him. she said he's so fine cause she like white blonde men. I'm starting to fall so inlove with him now! Same level of love with Jing Yuan. I can't Aveneturine is too charming. Didn't like him much at first but god his backstory and that mini anaimation how could I be so Blind! Same situtaion with Jing Yuan.

Also gonna update now

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #jing yuan #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #yandere jing yuan #hsr sunday #hsr sunday x reader #hsr blade #boothill #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #honkai star rail boothill #boothill x reader #hsr blade x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader

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artteristly · 4 months

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊, 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐁.

SUMMARY, you’ve had made peace with yourself knowing that you’d be a spinster for the rest of your life, so that you could take care of your little sibling, such as because they see you as their mother. Who would have thought just because you tagged along with your twin brother to an invited vacation, you’d meet your future husband who suffered the same responsibility?

MASTERLIST , 𝓌ord count, 6.6K

𝒞andles were the main light source to guide you through the dark halls of your home when your younger brothers had nightmares. Your hand was rather larger than theirs, but you still let their tiny fingers lead you to their room. Speaking about how in their nightmare it was a night roaring with thunder and you and your twin brother were nowhere to be seen.

You hush them to sleep, raking your fingers through their hair and letting their unconscious body cling to yours. While tucking them in again, you hear the door open slightly. “A nightmare?” Oliver spoke out, making you soften your gaze on him. “It is like they were there when Mother died.” You sigh as you ruffle one of the twin's hair.

“They are haunted by the night they were born.” You frown, simply because this wasn’t the first they came crying into your room about the horrid dream they had. Oliver seemed to sense your stress and took you away from the twin's room. “We simply can’t do anything about it sister, but try to raise them differently.” He sighed.

It had been years since your mother's death, and you took the responsibility to take care of your younger brothers. Her cause of death was because of them, having no choice but to be cut open and die bleeding while hugging her causes. Your mother huffed as she gave you her final orders as a mother before dying.

Her death was heartbreaking and the one who took it to heart was your father. He died a week after from a broken heart, leaving your brother to be the new lord of the family, and you the lady of the house until your brother married.

You were presented to society as requested by your aunt, but when no suitors understood your desire to raise your brothers, you simply didn’t marry. You were a spinster to society and a mother figure to your siblings.

“I don’t know Oliver, I hate seeing them suffer.” You walk into his study and sit yourself down, him following your actions. “You seem to grow the senses of a mother, sister.” Oliver smiled and sighed until he remembered something from earlier today. “I’ve received an invitation from one of my old friends, they invited us to their countryside home, where they will host a ball soon.” He looked over, catching how this took all of your attention.

“It would be nice, you and the boys would love some vacation, especially you since you're the one who needs it the most.” You stood up and smiled, taking your shawl and covering yourself once again walking straight to the door. “So it’s a yes?” Oliver asked making you laugh lightly and then nodding. “Of course Oliver, who am I to deny you of relaxation?”

He laughed lightly before watching you walk away to finally sleep, and he returned to his desk to do his duties.

You’ve noticed it had been quite some time since you were in the countryside, and seeing Aubrey Hall was quite astonishing when you first saw it. Thomas and Richard bounced excitedly when they saw the house, blabbering about how it was gorgeous and humongous. “You must act like gentlemen while you are here, well-mannered and respectful.” You told them watching as they nodded furiously and repeated ‘Yes big sister!’ over and over.

When the carriage stopped you saw the Bridgerton family spill out of the front door, lining up to greet your family. Once you stepped out someone called your last name out, making you look up to see an older man smiling at your brother. “Clarke!”

“Bridgerton!” Your brother smiled and shook the man's hand, then hugged for a second before he introduced his family. “Dear friend, I’m quite hurt you wouldn’t invite me to your wedding nor tell me you had a family..” Anthony spoke, making you laugh at the face Oliver made. “My Lord, you’re mistaken, I’m Oliver's sister, and these are our siblings Thomas and Richard.” You smile at his bewildered face.

“My Apologies.” Anthony ducked his head, making you chuckle and dismay the mistake. “Please do join us for tea!” Violet smiled at the four of you, gladly being invited in.

You were astonished by their home, it seemed like a wonderful place to grow up in. The tea room was more beautiful as you sat with Oliver on one of the sofas. “Mother, can we go out and play in the garden with Thomas and Richard?” You learned that the youngest Bridgerton siblings were Hycinth and Gregory, somewhat the same age as Thomas and Richard. “Of course, if it all right with their older siblings.” Violet looked over for your permission.

“Sister, can we? Please!” Richard came up to you, right behind him was Thomas talking to Hycinth. You look over to Oliver, and he nods and allows it. “You may, but don’t cause trouble!” You spoke, and automatically they thanked you and promised nothing but good deeds.

Violet smiles at your motherly aura, making you smile back at her when you catch her staring. The moment was wonderful and not long after dinner was being served, that was when you separated yourself to find your little siblings. A servant leading you outside to them, you were about to call out to them until a voice behind you did it for you. “Everyone, time for dinner!”

You looked behind your shoulder to find Anthony behind you, he instantly looked at you. “Thank you, My Lord.” You bowed your head, you were about to leave until he spoke. “I hope you do forgive me about earlier.” He said, you raised an eyebrow a bit confused. “About what My lord?” You asked before turning your head and looking for Richard and Thomas, they were running straight at you. “About me mistaking you for Oliver's wife,” Anthony confessed.

You smiled softly before yelling at the boys not to run inside, again turning over towards him. “Don’t worry about it, My lord.” You laugh lightly before you watch him offer his arm, making you confused once again. “Allow me to show you where dinner is held..” He smiled, and you once again smiled out of kindness, before taking his hand.

You flinch awake when you feel someone slip under your bedsheet, making you peek your eyes open. Only to find Thomas sniffling his tears, making you well aware of what was happening. Thomas was always the most sensitive one out of the twins, he was a soft boy who was very kind. “Thomas, what happened?” You whisper, caressing your hand on his cheek, wiping his tears away.

“I had a nightmare again.” He sniffled, he was visibly shaken up. His night clothes were crinkled, his hair was ruffled and some parts were drenched in sweat. His blue eyes were puffed and his nose was snotty, making your heartache.

You turn over in your bed and light up the side candle on your night table, the dim light making everything around it glow a soft light. You push the duvets and blankets away and put on your slippers, walking inside the bathroom to the side of it. Thomas sat up and grew shy, were you mad at him?

“C’mere Thomas, we don’t want you going to bed all sweaty.” You came back in the room with a damp towel, rubbing it along his hair, trying to clean up the sweat off his hair and neck. “Lay down.” You told him before going into the bathroom again. When you came back, the towel was damp again but this time you placed it around his face, hoping the cold towel would calm him down.

You sit beside him on the bed, pulling your knees towards you. “What was your nightmare about?” You asked softly when you uttered those words, you could feel him tense around you. “You can talk to me when you’re ready if it’s too hard, for now, we can just be in each other presence.” You run your fingers in his hair, feeling him ease up.

After a few minutes he talked, but his words trembled like he was about to say something wrong but spoke. “I saw Mother, in my dream.” He said, just now leaning a bit more into your side. “She was with Papa, and you. She was cradling you in her arms, saying how you were doing a good job.” He sniffled, closing his eyes trying to remember again.

“Then everything sort of started to disappear, she kept saying how it was time for you to join them, and she disappeared again and left you crying.” Tears swelled in his eyes, trembling. “Do you miss Mother and Father, sister?” He looked up at you, making you bite your tongue, not wanting to cry in front of him. “Of course I do.” You swallow the sadness down. “Do you hate me for taking them away?”

“Thomas, never say such words.” You spoke calmly at him, making him look away. “You are my brother and I must take care of you–Mother told me it was my final order as a big sister.” You told him. “Everyone is destined to go somewhere they might return from, it was simply their time to go.” You stated.

“You won’t leave us alone, right sister?” Thomas looked at you, his gaze holding hope and fear. “Never, I’ll be by your side until you are big enough not to need me all the time.” You smiled at his foolish question. “I think, I’ll always need you here with me sister.” He murmured, finally closing his eyes.

As he falls asleep in your bed, you can’t help but sigh.

Candles were the main light source to guide you through the dark halls of the Bridgerton house, taking a peek inside your brother's guest room. Only to find the bed still neatly made, so you wandered around until you heard soft laughter in the Billard room. You peek in, seeing your Brother playing pool with Anthony. Colin and Benedict drinking on the side, chatting between themselves, and drowning in smoke.

Your soft knock on the door startles them, making their eyes stare at the door. “Sister?” Oliver looked at you confused. You smiled nervously before talking “Sorry to interrupt but I need your help.” You say. “What with?” He asked, more confused than the first. “It is Thomas.” With that, your brother is hastily walking towards you.

“He had another nightmare, he is drenched in sweat.” You whispered at him, eyeing him and the Bridgerton brothers who stood quite confused. “Did something happen, should I send for a doctor?” Anthony was the first to speak out. You and Oliver looked at each other and communicated with your eyes.

“No, our brother is simply hogging my bed.” You smiled softly at him, before pulling your brother's sleeve. “Again, sorry to interrupt, have a good night gentleman.” You bow your head down, before walking out of the room. “I’ll be right back.” Oliver excused himself.

After you left, the band of brothers looked at each other “What do you think that was about?” Benedict asked, making Colin think. “Perhaps the boy simply has an attachment issue?” The two brothers keep talking but the elder one is still glancing at the place where you stood. He knew the look you gave to your brother meant something, something he knew about.

It was simply the same look his mother gave him when she needed to carry the young ones to bed because she alone couldn’t pick them up. As he stood there in thought, he started to think more. You were similar to his mother, giving the same comfort around other people. You gave those boys so much motherly love, just like his mother did with him and his brothers.

“Perhaps she is just a mother figure to those boys.” Anthony simply said, taking a sip of his liquor. Benedict and Colin brushed him off and continued talking, they wouldn’t get it anyway. A figure will always recognize another.

The sun playfully peaked through the blue curtains, making your eyes flutter open slowly. You hum as you let your body wake up, stretching to each corner of your guest bed. You felt amazing like you just gotten the best rest of your life, instantly placing you in a good mood.

You have gotten yourself ready for today, wearing a light purple dress and placing your hair down, showing off its length. You smiled at the thought of having a peaceful morning in this gorgeous country home, simply sitting near the garden, enjoying the morning breeze and a book.

You slip out of your room and walk downstairs.

Anthony flinched, hearing floorboards creaking in his home. He could feel the house become alive but could hear someone speak to others. He wondered who it could be since he was usually the first one up. He sighed and shuffled out of his bedsheets, peaking out of his view of the backyard, only to see you sitting with a book in your hand.

He wondered what you were doing, he could only slowly start waking up while looking at you. Should he join you for tea? He asked himself, before making his mind up and doing so.

He slowly shuffled out of his trousers and slipped into his clothes of the day, then walked out of his room. The morning staff greeted him, and he then ordered him to bring tea outside where you were, they quickly did what they were ordered to do.

You got startled when a soft ‘good morning.’ spoke out towards you, making you look behind and see who was responsible. “Ah, Good morning, My lord.” You smiled while standing up, and curtsying towards him. “Please, May I join you?” Anthony smiled, gesturing to the free seat, in which you nodded.

“How was your night? Was everything to your liking?” He asked, making you place a bookmark on your book. “Everything was perfect, you shouldn’t worry.” You smiled, noticing a maid coming up and serving tea. “If you don’t mind me asking, was everything alright yesterday night?” Anthony questioned.

You looked at him as you were going in to sip tea, and you placed it down softly. “Thomas is a compassionate boy, he gets scared easily, and he has recurring nightmares.” You tell him, catching how worried he looks. “He sneaks into my room, simply seeking comfort.” After that, you take a sip out of your tea.

Anthony nodded, he could only think of how many times he had to help his Mother with Hycinth and Eloise, and sometimes Daphne. “Seems like our duty as older siblings.” He said with a soft smile, making you look at him. “How are your siblings? Are they well-behaved, or perhaps chaotic?” You smiled when he sat up in his chair.

“They are way different from yours, they are bipolar, and they switch moods mostly all the time.” He smiles, bringing his teacup up to his lips. “Especially Hycinth and Gregory, those two are always at it.” He sighed into the cup before sipping his tea. “Richard and Thomas are sweet boys, they don’t like causing trouble.” You laughed at the thought.

“Miss Clarke, I find it honorable what you are doing.” Anthony smiled softly at you, making you tilt your head. “Of what, My lord?” Your eyes glued right at his, trying to study his expression. When you get the idea of what he is saying, you place your teacup down. “My Lord, It is simply our duty as older siblings.” You smile softly. “We must provide our younger siblings with emotional and physical security.”

His breath hitched as he looked at you. You had worded his thoughts perfectly like you knew what he was thinking. “Morning.” You both turn over to see Benedict stretching as Colin and Oliver come downstairs, and you simply smile at the three. “Morning gentlemen, I hope after all the fun you had yesterday night you rested well.” Benedict nodded happily, thanking you and sitting right next to you, popping a light biscuit in his mouth.

“Do not worry Sister, after I won a game of pool against Colin, we simply went to sleep.” Oliver ruffled your hair, and in return, you smiled at him. “Yes, do not worry Miss Clarke, after your brother finally won a game against me, he quickly retreated to bed.” Colin corrected Oliver, making you giggle. Amid your conversation with the other three, Anthony kept looking at you quietly.

How was it that you clicked so easily with his siblings? You were at most a natural when it came to socializing with others, easily joining the conversation you were immediately included in. You did your duty as the Lady of the house quite easily, while you helped your brother with paperwork and money problems. You were about everything he was trying to be or be with.

“Breakfast is ready, My lord.” A maid called out, making him snap out of his thoughts. “Shall we?” He smiled and walked inside, making the rest walk inside. As he walked into the main area, he could see the boys running toward you and your brother. “Brother, Sister! Good morning.” Richard jumped into Oliver's hands, while the boy ruffled his hair. Thomas on the other hand grabbed your hand and smiled, making you caress his cheek.

During breakfast, out of the corner of his eye. He could see you acting motherly towards them, making him intrigued, and have some questions.

Then again during tea time, you were sowing back up one of Richard's handkerchiefs, touching the fabric up. Richard read out loud with you, while you corrected him on some words.

His last thought was seeing you play with them, running in the green field in front of Aubrey Hall, right in front of his study, he stretched, needing a break, and as if Benedict heard his wishes, he came into his study. “Brother, do join us for pallmall.” His tilted smile was on full display.

Anthony walked downstairs to find his whole family waiting, huddling around the rack filled with different colored mallets. He saw you crouched down, holding your finger out towards Thomas and Hycinth whose eyes widened as you told them that the insect on your finger was a butterfly.

“Sister, will you be joining us?” Oliver asked you, letting the butterfly fly away and making the children run after it. “I’m playing with Thomas and Hycinth! Perhaps another day!” You smiled lightly seeing a pout on your brother's face.

Anthony felt his hands sweat, just as you uttered those words, a gold ray of the sun landed on your skin. Making him utterly mesmerized by your image, then leaving him clenching his first tightly as you ran towards the children, making the wind an actor as it runs itself through your long hair.

It shined rightly under the sun, he could’ve mistaken you for a fairy. Benedict pushed him out of his thoughts and ushered him to play the game.

That night Anthony felt strange as he laid in his bed, absolutely devoured by the thought of you. What was going on with him? He was high with the sound of your sweet voice, your smile, and your kindness. He wanted to entangle his finger in your hair, he wanted you to caress his face.

He groaned, why was this happening to him? Just when he puts love off to the side, his heart starts to throb for someone. Was it wrong as well? You were his friend's younger sister. He huffs as he stands up once again, he shivers at the thought of you running your hands behind him, wrapping them around his waist. Was he mad? Was he insane? He shouldn’t be thinking about you.

He walked towards his study until he saw a dim light in the library that was connected to his study. “Who is in here?” He spoke out and like his thoughts were heard about someone, you stood still there, like you were deer caught while hunting. “Sorry, am I not supposed to be in here?” You went still, watching as Anthony walked in laughing a bit. “No, Do not worry, you are allowed to be here.” He chuckled as he saw your grip loosed on your shawl.

“You gave me quite the scare, My lord.” You laughed breathlessly before pushing the book back in its place. You looked at Anthony who kept looking at you, making you nervous. “You have a beautiful library, it puts mine to shame.” You grabbed a book that you recognized easily, sliding it off the shelf.

"It was my late fathers, he took pride in his collection, we say Eloise got that habit from him.” He walked towards you, a good arm's length away, looking down at the book you were holding.

“Pride and Prejudice?” He smiled, making you nod scanning the book cover. “A lovely love story, both of the characters overcoming pride and prejudice and surrendering to love each other.” You hum out, handing the book to him. “I rather think it’s quite aggravating.” Antony hummed out, looking up to see your reaction.

“Oh, why do you find it ‘aggravating’?” You asked directly giving him your attention. “It bothers me how much they deny each other, and how she can’t see he’s being a gentleman.” He mutters placing the book back, falling a bit weak in his knees when your eyes examine him. You find it amusing, and to show it you it, you giggle. “Well, it’s romantic when a man is desperate for a woman's love.” You walked away towards the window.

Anthony watched as you walked away from him, he felt the cold brush his skin where your warmth was. “Ms. Clarke, do you have a husband?” Anthony said, making you look at him surprised. “Sorry, I overstep.” Anthony walked towards the door leading to his study, what was wrong with him?

“I don’t have a husband.” You chuckled as you saw his shoulders ease, walking his way. “It is rather hard to find one who understands my circumstance.” You expressed your displeasure, making him look at you directly. “It feels like most men have one goal, and that is to expand their lineage. I, however, want to take of the family I already have.” You smiled softly as you stood there an arm's length away...

“After my parents passed, I felt a heavy burden to take care of my three brothers. Oliver might seem like the older one but I’m older by three minutes.” You giggled before sighing heavily.

“I’ve helped manage our household, managing our finances with Oliver, taught them many activities, helped with their studies, having to be there for the three of them.” You tear up just a little, never being able to dump your feelings. “I’d gladly be their support pillar, and to take care of them.” You smiled.

“I love my brothers dearly, such as you do for your siblings, but mine are still immature with no guide in their life–I’d rather raise them to be gentlemen and make other young girls happy than to find love, I’ve made peace with it and if someone understood that, I’d gladly treasure them back.” You expressed truthfully.

Anthony felt like he had overstepped greatly but he couldn’t help but feel for you. Making him look at you with understanding eyes. “How did your parents die?” He asked, regretting how your expression turned into hurt from remembering unpleasant memories.

“Um, my Mother died during childbirth, having to be cut open to get Thomas out after Richard, she died bleeding while holding him. A week later my Father died of a broken heart, he couldn’t live without my mother.” You blinked some tears away before wiping them away. You both stood there in silence until you spoke again. “How did your father die?” You asked him.

You could see him close his eyes and exhale heavily “He was stung by a bee.” He looked at you somewhat humbled. “To see my Father who was a great man, be killed by a small creature is humbling.” He sarcastically said before feeling comfortable with you.

The air took a shift as he saw you studying him more deeply, then looking at him with a gaze that allured him towards you. It seemed like the only thing you two could do was convey feeling through your eyes. He leaned in closer, making you lean in as well.

“What if I understood you?” You turn over inhaling at how close he was. You looked up at his eyes they looked at you desperately, and you looked down nervously. You flush as you see his chest through his sheer nightshirt. “I fear that I understand you far too well.” You looked so small under him, so flushed, so captivating.

“What are you saying?” You looked up at him and god did he want to kiss your lips. He cursed himself for looking at you with those thoughts, and it didn’t help when your collarbone was visible, nor the line where your breast started. Your doe eyes looking at him so confused, as your lips parted to speak again.

This time your mouth was left open as nothing came out of it, making him turn his head over lining your lips with his but not placing them on you. You felt confused, you wanted to set your lips on his but didn’t and it was eating you up alive. Your breath hitched as you felt his hands pull yours forward, it felt like he was pulling your heart making it pound.

You felt right as he showed you the most vulnerable side of his you've seen, you allowed yourself to brush your lips against his slightly. Allowing him to feel the slight texture of your plum lips, making his breath hitch. You pulled away after gaining a reaction from him. “This isn’t right, I–” You shook your head feeling a heavy feeling in your heart. “Please..” Anthony felt his cold heart begging to be warmed up.

“I-I shall bid you good night.” You turned away, breath trembling as you pulled your shawl over you tightly. You were glancing at him one more time before leaving the room hastily, feeling the cool air on your flushed skin.

On your third day in Aubrey Hall, Violet was going to a ball. It was an annual ball apparently, and you were their honorable guests. You told your brothers that they were to stay put with Hycinth and Gregory since they were still too young to be out during balls.

Your ladymaid helped you slip on a royal blue dress made of silk that complemented your figure. The dress has beautiful detailing, little flowers that trail to the back of the dress, and a beautiful bow on the back that turns into a nice small train. With a nice halfway-up hairstyle and large curls flowing down, your mother's jewelry was the final touch.

You thank the ladymaid as she smiles and begins to clean up the space, you leave the room to walk towards your brothers. You knock on his assigned guest room, which was partly shared with your little brothers, just a wall separating them. Richard whipped the door open and smiled big “Sister!” He engulfed you in a tight hug.

“Richie! What are you doing here?” You laugh as he drags you inside, making Thomas run towards you and hug you as well, “We are helping Oliver get ready!” Thomas butted in before analyzing your dress. “Sister you look beautiful!” Thomas and Richard spit out in unison, making Oliver glance over.

“I must say, Sister, the color rather suits you better than me,” Oliver muttered as he walked towards you, giving you his carvat indicating he was having trouble putting it on. “Nonsense, it looks fine on you.” You easily put his cravat on, making him huff. “My future sister better knows how to put these on or you’re going to be in lots of trouble.” You giggled as he gave you a look.

“Are we getting another sister soon?” Richard said excitedly, Thomas right behind him with joyful eyes. “I’ve told you I don’t want to get married this season.”Oliver shrugged on his waistcoat that was matching your dress, butting it up.

“Please I have a feeling you’ll meet your future bride at this ball brother!” You say excitedly, making him pout and look at you. “What about our new brother? Are you going to get married soon?” Oliver asked.

You freeze, and the thought of you and Anthony yesterday night pops up in your mind. Making you flush red and shy, and this didn’t go unnoticed by Oliver. “Sister, have you made a match?” Oliver buttoned up the last of his buttons and rushed to your side. You clear your throat, looking away from the boys who cornered you. “I have not.” You walked away, and suddenly Thomas hugged your legs and Richard your waist, making you stop in your tracks.

Oliver picked you up making you squeal at the sudden movements, then plopped you down on a chair. “Sister, do you like someone?” Thoma questioned you, making Oliver and Richard eye you. “Why are you asking me that?!” You asked a bit flushed. “We just you to be happy sister.” Richard expressed, making the other two boys nod. You looked at them sincerely, making them continue.

“We want you to be with a husband that will take care of you, just like you took care of us.” Richard told you, “You deserve a happy ending sister, you’ve done so much.” Oliver held a hand towards you, making you stand up.

“But if I do so, you’ll be alone, I don’t wish for that.” You start to tear up, making the three boys offer you their handkerchiefs, you laugh lightly, and they offer the handkerchiefs you made for them. “We are big boys sister, either way, you won’t leave us forever right? You’ll visit us!” Thomas exclaimed making you breathe out.

“I don’t think I can leave you all alone.” You told them, making them huff. Oliver finished up getting ready, and you ushered the boys into the nursery where the younger Bridgerton siblings sat. You meet Oliver at the top of the stairs, grabbing his arm as he guides you both to the bottom, where the elder Bridgerton siblings chat amongst themselves.

Anthony broke his chatter with Daphne who kept talking, looking at you with your astonishment as you walked down the stairs. You two were talking to Benedict and Eloise as they broke apart from their family to speak to you. “Sister! Let me introduce you to our guest.” Anthony smiled as Daphne nodded along.

“May I introduce you to Lord Clarke and his sister, Ms. Clarke.” Daphne smiled as she saw you crusty and your brother bow. “This is our sister Daphne, Duchess of Hastings.” Making your eyes twinkle. “A pleasure to meet you two, my brother talked about you two, all nice things of course.” She smiled.

“Your Grace, it is an honor to meet you.” You give her a delighted smile, making her giggle. “Please I have every intention of becoming friends with you, let us walk around?” Daphne offered her hand, making you smile at your brother, and walked away with her.

“You talked about us?” Oliver looked at Anthony who kept his gaze on you, then broke away to look at him. “Of course, I’m trying to find you a wife.” He told him, making him scoff. “You and my sister are forcing me to find a wife–it is like you two are meant to be with all this pushing.” Oliver walked into the ballroom.

As the ball began, you walked around talking to some ladies who gladly let you join them. You were quite the social butterfly, making you tired of talking sometimes. You excused yourself, wanting a beverage and looking for your brother. You watched as he flushed over the words of a young lady, making you smile.

“Brother, enjoy your night?” You butt in, making him look at you. “Ah sister, yes! Let me introduce you two, Miss. Blackwood my sister.” Oliver smiled at the young brunette, not going unnoticed by you. “Hello, a pleasure to meet you.” You smile, making the young girl flush. “Likewise, If you don’t mind me asking, are you twins?” She hid her face behind her fan, making you giggle. “Yes, we are a set of twins,” Oliver confirms.

“You are most fortunate to have a sibling.” She said, talking about how she had no siblings at the moment. “Are you very fond of children, Miss Blackwood?” You question her and she nods. “I love children! Whenever I’m in the country, I usually play with my cousin's kids.” She smiled.

“Then you might enjoy our other brother's presence!” You told her, making her confused. “Ah you see, just like me and my sister are twins, we also have little twin brothers, their names are Richard and Thoma.” Oliver’s smile grew fond of the thought of them. “Oh, I’d love to meet them.” She giggled.

Anthony glanced at you every time he heard you laugh, wanting nothing but to walk over there and talk to you. Although this persistent mama denied him of doing so, his mother saw his inpatients. “Anthony! I need to talk to you!” She ushered him away, grabbing his arm in the process. “Dearest why are you making that face?” Violet spoke.

“You must seem content in front of these guests, and talking about guests why haven’t you asked our guests to dance?” She scolded him before he could talk, making him frown. “Mother I was about to ask Ms. Clarke to dance but I simply got caught up with some people.” He reassured her, making her nod.

“Where is she?” Violet looked around, making him do so as well. Anthony excused himself with his mother, making his way toward Oliver who was still chatting with Ms. Blackwood. “Oliver, have you seen your sister?”Anthony excused himself for interrupting their conversation. Oliver looked at him a bit confused but replied “She is checking up on Thomas and Richard, I think.” Oliver told him.

Anthony nodded and walked away, leaving the ball unnoticed and quietly. He walked up the stairs making his way to the nursery. Just as he turned the hallway, you walked out. In your hands a tired Richard, who you struggling to carry, and a very sleepy Thomas. “Thomas love, please stay awake so we can change you for bed.” You ruffle his hair and readjust Richard on your hip.

You gasp as you feel someone grab Richard from your arms, and it shocked you when it was The Viscount. “My lord, you don’t have to!” You say as if his action were too much. “Don’t be silly, please let me help you.” Anthony smiled while crouching down to carry Thomas as well. You looked a bit worried, and he smiled reassuring you.

You both walk to their assigned guest room, and after some pushing and pulling you are finally able to tuck them in with the help of Anthony. You huff, backing up a little right beside Anthony, you looked over towards him and smiled. “Thank you once again, My lord.” You smiled kindly.

Anthony looked at your adoring lips, making him want nothing but to put his lips on them. “Anthony.” He whispered, making you look up at him once again. “Pardon?” You say, making him instantly repeat himself. “Please, call me Anthony.” He said now facing you directly. “Ms. Clarke, I’ll be honest with you–

I have nothing but respect for you.” He said looking at you sincerely, making you straighten up. “Yesterday night, I meant what I said–I understand you very well.” He expressed, resulting in your breath hitching. “I understand your so felt burden of taking care of your sibling and to be frank, I honestly relate my problems so much to yours,” Anthony whispered lightly, not wanting to wake up the children.

You looked up at him in amazement, making him open his mouth but no words came out. Your heart was palpitating so hard, that you felt like a character who was about to be confessed to. Anthony straightened his posture, as he cleared his throat. “To be honest, I fell deeply in love with your motherly intuition, I don’t know how to explain it but my heart eases up when you take care of your sibling so easily,” Anthony confessed, making him flush red.

“I must say it made me love you differently now, and– god it’s so unlike me, but I fell in love in just three nights.” He became once again flush in color.

You too were flushed with red, making you put a hand on your chest, feeling it–actually, it was beating so hard you swear you could hear it. “Anthony, I, well, I don’t know how to feel.” You look at him, then away.

“When my brother accepted the invitation, I thought of them having the necessary time off, I did not come here for my benefit.” You told him. “Though I am happy, I ended up getting something.” As you utter the last syllables of your sentence, Anthony looks at you.

“W-What I meant, I feel the same way, Anthony, I do hope you can court me the right way, once I get back to Mayfair.” You smiled fondly as you grabbed his arm. Making him nod slowly “It would be an honor to.” Anthony smiled, feeling somewhat relieved that his feelings were reciprocated.

As the two walk back down, arms linked, the whole Ton looks at the pair in bewilderment. However, Anthony didn’t care, offering his hand to you and a gentle smile. “May I have this dance, Ms. Clarke?” He smiled, making you giggled and accept his advance. “Of course, My lord.” Then the two of you dance the night away.

At the end of the night, you told your brother you retiring to bed, he nodded and you excused yourself. Your heels bore into your heel and you sighed at the sight of your guest room door. As you passed the library that held the memory of you and Anthony, you can’t help but smile. Entering the room with your heels in hand, you wander the bookshelf, ah there it was, Pride and Prejudice.

You smile at the light conversation you made between Anthony about the book. You place the hardcover book back before walking out the door, only to find the man you had semi-confessed your love to at the end of the hall, this time he was retiring to bed.

You two smile as you connect once again, this time he walks you to your guest room. That night you had kissed him goodnight on his cheek, making him still as a statue, but quickly snapping out of it as he heard your brother making him wau towards you two.

The moment felt pure and delightful, you tucked yourself into bed and after tossing and turning, you’d admit, you were far too happy about what just had happened. Tonight felt like a fever dream, and it was something you nor Anthony never wanted to forget.

Anthony laid in bed as an uttered mess, as his nightshirt was visibly discarded as he laid shirtless. Simply too hot, and was practically melting because of the action you made on him. He would lay there, dragging his fingertips on his cheek. He knew in the morning you would be gone, already on your way home, and he would be mourning, trying to hold on to the memories of your lips.

God, he is so lovesick.

So lovesick, he simply started courting you the week you had just come back from Aubrey Hall, with of course the blessing of your three younger brothers.

2K notes · View notes

shlonguru · 8 months

Note

Can we get one of Alastor fucking you in his radio booth and broadcasting it to fuck with Vox~ pretty please with a cherry on top💕

God thank you so much for your request and this idea, it really inspired me so much and I might do even more with this cause I find it inherently hot hehe. I'm so happy so many people enjoyed the first part of Alastor x Fem!Reader x Vox and I'm a degenerate so I wrote a second. I hope you guys like it too! Enjoy my fellow degenerates! o/

I would also like to thank @wipmoop for their amazing art cover for this smut! They're truly the best you can check them out !

And with this, I present you, drumroll please :

Alastor X Fem!Reader X Vox 2 - Rematch !

Summary : You're tired of waiting for your rematch and decide to take things into your own hands. Are you ready to face the consequences of your actions ?

Warning : 18+, Smut, dirty talking, oral, oral creampie, creampie, threesome, cum swallowing, praise kink, teasing, overstimulation, rough, cunnilingus, hair pulling, bondage, spanking.

Word Count : 4883 words (Yup, it's worse than the first one.)

After the events of the party Alastor brought you back to the hotel, explaining to Charlie that you might’ve hmm…had more than you could handle. She was delighted at the idea of you residing at the hotel and extended an unlimited invitation to you. You had your own room and actually enjoyed the people there more than you thought you would. You thought you’d give redemption a shot. However, you had been dreaming of your rematch with Vox and Alastor and it occupied most of your daily thoughts, as much as you hated to admit it.

It had been 2 weeks since you moved in and you hadn’t really been seeing Alastor since the party, he was a busy man after all, he was usually very polite when he saw you and would give you a hand kiss or wink at you. You hadn’t seen Vox at all since the party, but it wasn’t too surprising. Slowly, you started realizing that you were okay with what happened being a one-off thing.

This day you had just finished exercises with everyone and was chilling having some tea when Charlie exclaimed: “Oh Alastor is hosting his radio show! We should bring him some tea! Where’s Niffty? She’d be super-fast.” She looked around unable to find her.”

“She was chasing a family of roaches last time I saw her.” You explained drinking your tea. “I can bring him if you want.” You offered, not thinking much of it, but knowing the idea of seeing Alastor brought a slight smile to your face.

“Really?” Asked Charlie with sparks in her eyes. “That is such a selfless act I love it!”

“Is it?” You questioned. She nodded furiously before handing you a tray with a cup of tea, some milk, sugar, and some biscuits on it.

You left the group and started making your way to the radio tower. As you approached it you heard the demon speaking into his mic.

“And that my fellows, is why you should never trust a demon whose name starts with a V. I will return in a moment, enjoy this musical break of electro swing.”

You arrived in front of the door and knocked.

“Come in.” You heard.

You entered the room to find Alastor sitting in front of his station, his legs crossed.

“Oh, Hello Dear!” He exclaimed seeing it was you at the door.

“Hi! Charlie asked me to bring you some tea. How’s your show going?” You smiled as you entered the room. Alastor looked at you intensely as you walked past him, his smile as wide as ever, you could feel his gaze on your body, you were wearing a short red dress hugging your shape and flared at the bottom and a pair of black thigh highs. You sat the tray on the coffee table he had next to him and poured him a cup of tea.

“The show is going as well as it needs to be.” He replied coldly, pausing afterwards. “But more importantly, this dress suits you very well, I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since that night at the party.” He proclaimed calmly.

Your face flushed lightly and he noticed. He hadn’t talked about the party since that night and the simple mention of it sent back embarrassing flashbacks to your mind. Not that you regretted it.

“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed. This is more casual though.” You replied, not looking him in the eyes.

“Is it now Dear?” Asked the demon searching for your gaze then looking you from the bottom up.

“I'm glad you like it." You teased then presented the cup in front of him and thought you noticed a quick glance at your cleavage.

This was enough for you to decide that you had done progress at the hotel and that meant you deserved a little reward, and if you were honest with yourself, you had missed Alastor and Vox’s touch since that night, after all, they had given you a night you could never forget as promised. You had been a good girl but now it was time to drop the act.

You lingered giving him a good look. You then asked innocently: “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He took a good look at you, almost as if he was trying to gauge your intentions. “Actually, I do, would you grab me the mic from the shelf over there.”

“Sure!” You replied smiling. You made your way to the shelf and pretended to struggle to grab the mic which fell to the floor and rolled under the shelf. You then got on all fours and bent over trying to grab it, almost exposing your parts. After grabbing it you stood back up and turned around only to be met with Alastor smiling widely, leaning on the counter of his studio.

“Are you doing okay, Dear?” He grinned tauntingly before taking a sip.

“I don’t know, am I? Here’s your mic.” You handed him the mic. He put down his cup of tea and grabbed the mic slowly, not breaking eye contact with you. He then proceeded to pull swiftly on it, bringing you with it as you hadn’t let go yet. Your body ended up pressed against his.

“You know if you had been craving my attention this badly you should have mentioned it sooner.” He exclaimed looking deep into your eyes.

“Did I crave your attention, or did you miss giving it to me?” You asked smugly smirking back.

“Oh, I can give it to you alright.” He smiled wider, his mouth an inch from yours.

“Do it then.” You smiled back, holding the fold of his jacket.

You felt his lips crash onto yours, the both of you dropping the mic simultaneously. He grabbed your hips tightly pulling you into the kiss, kissing you even deeper as he moved one hand behind your neck. He then lowered his hands to your ass before grabbing both of your cheeks tightly, pulling you off the ground, you legs locking around him instinctively. He turned around, still kissing you while holding your weightless body and sat you on the edge of the counter of his studio. He grabbed both of your wrists and laid you on your back, pinning your hands above your head. He then proceeded to kiss down your neck and onto your cleavage.

“Coming here dressed this way was your mistake.” He smirked.

“Debatable.” You smirked back.

He kept both of your hands pinned together with one of his and took a good look of your flushed, panting, and eager body. While scanning down your body he noticed something that made his eyes widen slightly before he went back to looking into your eyes with a devious smile. His second hand travelled down your body making you realize how sensitive you felt already.

“You might not have missed my attention but this part of you certainly has.” His hand then rubbed against your womanhood, making you realize just how soaked you were already as you squirmed.

“Listen Dear,” he looked at you, still rubbing your pussy, “I’m going to let go of your hands, but you may not touch anything but yourself with them.” He then let go of your hands and pussy before bending over you, resting both of his hands on each side of your head.

“Understood?” He menacingly whispered with a very serious grin.

You nodded.

“Good girl. And be sure to make all of hell know how good you’re feeling.” He smiled before removing his jacket which he threw on his couch.

“Wha-“ You were about to question but then saw him casually turn on the mic of his station. The sign [On Air] turning bright red confirming what you thought.

Alastor then proceeded to kneel in front of you and pull you closer, to the edge of the counter, he then ripped your panties in one movement and started digging in.

You immediately felt his tongue dig deep inside of you, earning a loud moan out of you as he spread your walls. The moans kept pouring as he enthusiastically ate you out, alternating between the inside and the outside of your pussy that he was eating like the first meal he’d had in days. He kept moving his tongue in motions that sent jolts up and down your body.

Before you realized, your hands had made their way into Alastor’s hair, pulling slightly as the pleasure intensified. You only noticed when the pleasure stopped. You looked down, confused, and immediately realized your mistake, letting go of his hair, as the tall demon stood back on his feet, looking at you calmly, which somehow made it scarier.

“Didn’t we agree on you touching nothing but yourself? See not only have you not touched yourself, but you’ve also touched me, and I am not part of you, yet.” He said menacingly.

“Sorry…” You muttered.

“Too late Darling, I’m afraid bad girls need to be disciplined.”

You stared at him as you witnessed him calmly removing his bowtie then grabbing both of your wrists once again, this time tying them together, in a very tight fashion.

“Good.” He exclaimed proud of his work.

And with that he resumed eating you out, this time more aggressively. You felt your walls tighten as he attacked them relentlessly, grabbing your thighs with both of his hands. Your moans were getting louder and louder as his name poured continuously out of your mouth until you felt the knot that had been building up break and the orgasm wash over your body, making your legs shake in the process.

“Holy shit…” You blurted, panting hard as you watched Alastor stand up and give you a quick kiss.

“See, you know how to be a good girl.” He whispered in your ear before licking your ear lobe. You felt his throbbing crotch press against yours.

Before any of you could add anything, you saw a glowing blue circle draw itself around the both of you.

“What is th-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence as you felt yourself fall down through what had now obviously been a portal. The radio demon fell with you, though in a much classier and composed manner, almost as if he knew it was coming.

You felt yourself land on something soft and looked around. It was a very large bed. Alastor had landed comfortably on his feet next to the bed.

“Took him long enough…” He huffed.

You scanned the room; it was very large and luxurious, like a palace. It was a giant bedroom with huge French windows, and tall wooden doors at its entrance. As soon as you laid your eyes on said doors they opened violently.

“The fuck is wrong with you !?” Yelled the handsome tall demon entering the room. It was a very furious Vox. Seeing him furious made you immediately crave him.

“Well, hello to you too.” Smiled Alastor, still in the same relaxed position.

“Why would you broadcast her for all of hell to listen to? Have you lost your mind?” He screamed unable to compose himself.

“I only did so long enough for you to notice.” He mentioned “And if you were so bothered by it, then maybe you should have noticed sooner.” He smiled wider.

“What a dumbass.” Vox walked past Alastor and arrived in front of you. He smiled for the first time.

“Long time no see y/n !” He leaned in front of you making you blush as you took a good look at his handsome figure.

“Hi Vox! I’ve missed you!” You smiled with your face still flushed from your orgasm. He held your chin up gently.

“Fuck I really missed that hot face of yours, I’m sorry you were stuck with such an ungrateful prick for so long, I knew you should’ve moved into my place instead. You’ve clearly gone way too long without getting some well-deserved action, which would have never happened here by the way.” He said that last part louder on purpose. He looked down for a second. “Dear, you are making my sheets wet already, did you really miss me that much?” He smiled looking at your exposed parts, dripping onto the bed.

“We could have settled on a date to have our rematch instead of you exposing her to every lowlife that would listen.” He turned to Alastor.

“Our dear friend couldn’t wait any longer and well I guess I had to take matters into my own hands.” He said innocently.

“You’re such a piece of shit.” Proclaimed Vox with a wide grin on his face, briefly glitching. “I see you’re unable to try and beat me without a head start you radio bastard.”

“It’s not like I was doing anything you could do anyways, Mr. Flat-screen-no-tongue.” The redhead smirked.

“Oh really?” He glitched lightly. “Sit back, relax and shut the fuck up.”

He turned to you, and away from Alastor.

“Y/n! Time to get that rematch baby! Get your ass on the edge of that bed and spread those legs for me!”

Your body moved on its own at this command, and you managed to sit up at the edge of the bed despite your wrists still tied together and sat with your thighs spread open, revealing your most intimate part which couldn’t lie about how much you wanted this. Vox looked at you intensely, taking in the sight he had missed more than he thought he had and bent over resting one hand on his knee, the other holding the bowtie tying your wrists together with a finger.

“Has someone been a bad girl~?” He teased.

“That’s entirely possible.” You smirked back. You could tell from his face he liked that. He let go of your wrists and grabbed both of your thighs tightly, making you lose your balance and fall back onto the bed. The next instant, you sensed something that felt like a tongue slide inside your pussy. It sent immediate literal jolts up your body, earning a loud moan out of you that surprised even you. You came a little from that but didnt say anything, you moved your head, looking at what was going on down there and saw a big blue tongue, sliding out of Vox’s screen and eating out your deepest parts.

“Oh wow!” You exclaimed not knowing what to make of the mix of intense pleasure, surprise and shock you were feeling. A quick glance behind Vox and you saw Alastor roll his eyes unbothered having a cup of tea on the sofa not too far. You didn’t have time to really process anything as the TV demon kept eating you out aggressively, making your orgasm come sooner than you would have expected. You had absolutely no control over how fast it was building up, you just felt it snap and felt yourself come, arching your back embracing the wave of pleasure, grabbing your dress tightly as you did so.

You felt the tongue pull out of you and giving your whole pussy a good lick before Vox stood back up, wiping his face with a satisfied look on his it.

“Fuck you’re so hot when you come.” He blurted trying to keep his composure, but you could already see his member throbbing through his pants.

“Are you done with your ridiculous endeavor? An attempt to prove what exactly?” Exclaimed Alastor in a tone he tried to portray as nonchalant, but everyone else could tell he was ticked off. “Can’t you see she comes so easily you could barely even consider it a challenge.”

That statement pissed you off because as much as you were enjoying yourself you didn’t like being underestimated.

“I had no idea my enjoying myself would make you this insecure?” You responded smirking in your brattiest tone.

“Oh, I like you more and more.” Said Vox raising his brows and smiling at you.

You could swear you noticed an eye twitch on Alastor.

“You brat…clearly if you’re still feeling this confident then we haven’t gone hard enough on you.” He declared with a wicked smile scaring you as much as it turned you on. Alastor teleported onto the bed next to you, grabbed your hair firmly into a ponytail and pulled you further into the large bed, leaving you no choice but to follow him on your knees before pulling your face close to his. Your tied hands were hanging down in front of you as you looked up at the radio demon. “I guess we’ll have to fix that.” He kissed you deeply shoving his tongue in your mouth making your head spin. He pulled away from the kiss for a second.

“Sorry Dear, I am but a terrible spectator.” He went back into the kiss making you dizzy as he pulled down the top of your dress making your breasts bounce out of it. He grabbed one of your tit with his free hand, pinching your nipple and making you whine softly.

"Now you’re going to use all that confidence you were so proud of just seconds ago and you’re going to take it all in.” He let go of you and you fell on all fours, now facing his crotch. You took a good look and immediately noticed how tight his pants looked around his cock, it almost looked painful. With your tied wrists you unzipped his pants, pulling out your reward.

‘Was it this big last time?’ you thought to yourself. A slight look of surprise covering your face for a brief instant.

“Yes, it was.” Replied the radio demon, as if he had read your mind. “You were just too eager to notice.” He finished. You blushed heavily before giving your best shot at taking as much of his member as you could in your mouth, it amounted to about 2/3 of his manhood.

“Not quite, Dear, here, let me give you a hand.” He chuckled before shoving your face down his member, lodging it all the way down your throat. You couldn’t breathe but it still felt good, you pussy was quivering and dripping, and Vox noticed.

“Damn, look at your cunt, don’t worry I gotchu.” You heard Vox who was right behind you and the moment after felt him give your ass a hard spank. That made you moan loudly, and you knew Alastor felt it when you heard a groan coming from him, you looked up only to be met with an intense and serious gaze filled with lust coming from the radio demon. His hands were both in your hair, guiding your mouth up and down, enjoying himself.

Vox stood right behind you, and you heard his pants unzip. Immediately after, you felt one of his hands rest on your hips and the tip of his cock rub against your entrance teasingly.

“Have you missed that?” He asked, lust exuding off his tone. After a few seconds of his teasing, you wanted to beg for him to insert it but you mouth was too full for that.

“Come on…” He teased, knowing he put you in an impossible position.

In one motion you pulled your mouth off Alastor’s cock and pleaded loudly. “Vox please I need your cock in me!” You looked at him with a lewd look on your face .

Seeing you in that state made him blush briefly before he composed himself again.

“Fucking finally! You’re so fucking hot!” He groaned loudly pushing all of him inside of you in one go making you scream of pleasure in the process. You immediately felt Alastor grab your hair in the same fashion he had moments ago, pulling your face close and squinting.

“Let’s not get distracted now, shall we?” He demanded sternly.

Vox felt you tighten around him as you heard those words, pulling an involuntary moan out of him.

“You naughty girl, you’re loving this aren’t you?” He spanked roughly you before starting to thrust at a rather fast pace.

“Obviously.” Declared Alastor smiling before shoving your face back onto his cock. He was the one thrusting now, in fact, they both were and soon enough, you felt that coil build up once again in your insides. Your eyes rolled back as you felt the knot snap.

Vox felt you tighten almost uncomfortably around his member as you came. He grabbed both of our ass cheeks tightly.

“That’s right, come for me!” He groaned throwing his head back and fucking you through your climax, holding your ass tightly then spanking it.

You had just finished coming when you felt Alastor pull out of your mouth. You exhaled loudly catching your breath.

“Good job not suffocating, here’s your reward.” Said Alastor grabbing your panting figure, pulling you off Vox and propping you onto his cock as he stood on his knees, you were still panting but it was now intertwined with moans as he effortlessly moved you up and down his member. You moved your tied up wrists over his head, wrapping your arms around his neck and grabbing it gently, you kissed him softly yet longingly as the moans continuously flooded out of your mouth. You felt his member grow thicker inside of you, as expressed by your moans becoming louder. Your kiss was interrupted by the TV overlord who grabbed your chin, turning your face away from the radio demon.

“Now you can’t just give all your holes away so easily my dear.” He said calmly standing bent over next to you.

“My apologies.” You replied looking up into his eyes.

“You’re forgiven.” He added with a smooth voice before you felt his lips meet yours. You were surprised at how soft they felt, and you had just found out he could do such a thing. He probably didn’t do it every day, but he was such a good kisser, you were dazzled by the kiss before he pulled out of it.

“Now open up dove, we’re not done just yet.” He grinned.

He hadn’t finished his sentence that you had opened your mouth, eagerly awaiting him.

“My god you’re such a good little slut.” He laughed not able to contain himself any longer, he pushed himself deep into your mouth and moaned loudly as he did so, you started moving your head swallowing his member to the base each time.

You hadn’t noticed because of how gradual it had been, but Alastor was now moving much faster than how he had started, hitting your deepest parts each time.

“Are you going to come again and prove me right?” Alastor smirked at you, pausing his thrusting for a moment and spanking your ass roughly. You moaned loudly around Vox’s cock and stopped moving as he immediately grabbed your head and kept the thrusting going.

“Nuh uh, you can’t stop yet.” The TV demon said as he kept pumping in and out of your mouth.

You looked at Alastor from the corner of your eye.

“What is it sweetheart? The TV got your tongue?” He spanked you again this time harder. Your pussy tightened around him, and he felt it, making his grin widen even more.

You looked at him trying your hardest to stay in control.

“Aww you still think you can decide whether you come or not. How adorable…I guess it’s time I teach you this lesson.” He squinted his eyes challengingly before he spanked you one last time, harder than all the other time, this time immediately grabbing both of your ass cheeks very firmly, not breaking eye contact with you.

“I…” He slammed you against his cock. “…decide…” He slammed harder. “…if…” He slammed even harder, digging his nails into your ass. “…and when…” He slammed hard and you felt yourself dangerously close to the edge. “…you come!” He grinned, slamming one last time harder than you had ever felt him thrust in you and he saw your eyes roll back as your pussy started pulsating around his cock. You moaned loudly around Vox’s cock, who pulled out just in time to hear it aloud. You were panting hard, your whole body going limp.

Vox grabbed your face and pressed your cheeks together bringing his face close to yours. “You’ll relax soon enough bitch, but we’re not done yet.” He then proceeded to grab you off Alastor and prop you once again on all fours. You were wobbly at best. “Come on are you already exhausted? After all this big talk?” He spanked you now red ass making you whine. You moaned softly and looked at him with pleading eyes. Your legs felt weak from all this thrusting and climaxing, and he could tell. He let out a soft sigh.

“Here. Let me give you a hand.” He grabbed one of your legs and propped it on his shoulder. “Now you’re going to take it like a good girl?” He looked at you his eyes focusing intensely on you.

“Yes, Sir.” You pleaded. As soon as he heard those words coming out of your mouth he felt an irrepressible urge to take you and you felt all of him enter you once more, at this point your pussy being overstimulated felt so sensitive everything felt ten times more intense. You moaned loudly while your tongue hung out of your mouth, and you gripped the sheets tightly as Vox started thrusting more roughly than he previously had.

Alastor, seeing your tongue hanging and your mouth open, took this opportunity to push himself inside your mouth and started thrusting.

“Enjoy your own taste dear, because you’re about to taste me.” He declared with a sadistic gaze on his now flushed face. You loved seeing the evolution of his boldness as lust took over.

“Shit you’re so fucking tight!” Vox thrusted hard, gritting his teeth, and digging his nails into your thigh, pulling it close against his chest as he lost himself in pleasure, his movement becoming more erratic as he glitched and he brought himself closer to the final release, nevertheless, he never failed to hit your G-spot with each thrust. You felt it coming, despite your best efforts, they both felt you tense up more and more. You still did a great job wrapping your tongue around the radio demon’s shaft, you heard his breath get shakier as he maintained composure fucking your mouth, one hand under your chin and the other in your hair.

You felt the knot about to snap as you hear them both declare as one:

“Are you ready?”

They both thrusted deep in you one last time, releasing simultaneously, filling you up from both sides as you came one last time, almost seeing stars at this point.

Alastor let out the closest thing to a moan as he emptied himself directly down your throat tightening around his member, slowly pulling himself out afterwards and enjoying the sight of your dazed expression.

“Good job.” He patted your cheek smiling and slightly panting, much more relaxed than a few moments ago.

Vox pulled out next and you immediately collapsed onto the bed, cum flowing out of you.

“Holy shit you felt so fucking good!” Vox also felt all sorts of dizzy after his orgasm. He quickly got a grip and they both grabbed what was necessary to clean you up, laying you down comfortably after Alastor removed his bowtie from your sore wrists and Vox handed you one of his shirts to wear.

You were fast asleep and woke up probably a few hours later to both of them having tea in the corner of the room.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you can’t talk your way into being better in bed, she literally blacked out after I made her come, that’s how good it was.” Expressed Vox with frustration.

“Maybe that or you were just so boring she fell asleep.” Replied Alastor calmly sipping his tea.

“Fuck off, weren’t you facefucking her as well? Wouldn’t that make you boring by extension?” He proclaimed, anger taking over his tone.

Alastor ignored him. You moved in the bed making it creak and earning their attention.

“Oh, looks like our friend has finally awaken from her great slumber.” Announced the radio demon.

They both arrived by your side as you fully came to.

“Hello beautiful.” Exclaimed Vox, with his usual smile and composure. “How are we doing?”

“Well!” You replied attempting to stretch then realizing how sore your whole body felt. “Never mind.” You added.

They both smiled with a satisfied look on their face, almost as if admiring their work.

“Yeah, you need to rest. Next time try not to bite off more than you can chew sweetheart.” Declared Vox with Alastor nodding approvingly next to him.

“Any idea who performed best this time Dear?” Asked the radio demon.

“I mean, it’s hard to give you an answer when you both do whatever you want at all times.” You said with a hint of frustration. “Maybe if you both stuck to one hole, I would be able to tell.” You added, genuinely trying to recall all the events in the right order.

“Hmm, No.”

“Nope.” They both proclaimed simultaneously.

“We will, however, keep fucking you until you give us an answer.” Gloated Vox with a hint of excitement in his voice.

“I’m afraid it’s the only way.” Added Alastor calmly.

“Fair.” You conceded.

‘Holy shit what did I get myself into…’ You thought to yourself.

“Now, rest my dear, you’re going to need it.” Said Vox still smiling at you before vanishing into electricity out of the room.

“I’ll see you soon Darling.” Declared Alastor before smiling and disappearing into a shadow.

To be continued...

Vox is genuinely so effortless to write. I love how versatile he can be, Alastor on the other hand is rough -.- but once I'm done I can fully appreciate it.

PS : I know Alastor is Aroace and I hope no one takes offense to my work. I genuinely take pleasure in writing smuts and I've been loving his personality that's all.

Peace out ! o/

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #alastor x reader x vox #vox x reader x alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor smut #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #vox x you #vox x y/n #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #vox smut #smut

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cursedcola · 7 months

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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia( pt.1 Here!)(pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. Also, I went overboard. So much that I exceeded the character limit and need to post Diasomnia in 2 parts. I have favorites I guess :/

Malleus experienced more firsts over the course of three years than the duration of his life. His first board game session, his first group trip with peers, his first taste of carnival food, his first sleepover, his first true friend - so, so many firsts. All a byproduct of one person walking into his life and taking a genuine interest in him.

You were the first houseguest he personally invited over to Diasomnia. Not for a tour, not for business, not on behalf of another - no. You were Malleus' houseguest, there to visit Malleus and spend time with Malleus. The snacks prepared were for you both to share. The lounge seating reserved for your company. His first time hosting for fun.

You were the first person he ever got a present for outside of his family. How quick your birthday had come, and how startled he became to find he cared. You were older. Growing so quick and changing at an alarming pace. He could see it in your features and mannerisms. Malleus knew that humans aged at a much faster rate than fae. Silver sprouted like a beanstalk. Yet you were blossoming like a flower in spring. How long until you'd wither?

Malleus cared. Not out of curiosity, but something deeper. Malleus did not want a servant to pick your gift, not even his closest companions. He desired to adhere to human custom and do the task himself. He did not trust another to pick something meaningful and to your preference.

You were the first to make him laugh. Your humor being like none he had heard before. Others tend to correct themselves in Malleus' presence, or try to cater to 'his' taste. Even those closest to him, often sharing a joke that flies over his head without any explanation. You did no such thing. Your humor was curious, and perhaps a bit crude. The jokes did fail to land with him, but he still found them funny regardless.

You were the first to make him yearn. Malleus had felt loneliness before. He's been bound in it's searing clutches and taunted. Yet his rooted longing never compelled him to change. He never felt jealous. Until your smile became another's and he felt a hot pit in his stomach. One different than his fiery magic.

You were his first desire.

Malleus fumbled and panicked. He had finally found a friend, yet he wanted more. The realization striking him deep. The first want he had no guarantee of obtaining. Yet his need for you was strong. He could not lose you. Malleus begun to value your presence. Your joy. The new life you breathed into him. He held it as dear as his family. You became his fondest treasure.

Malleus needed to ensure that you would never be taken from him. That you would never change.

You were also his first failure. On the dawn of your second year and his graduation, Malleus proposed. He had forgone all customs and jumped straight to marriage. Love to the fae was a lifetime bond. No power could chain you to him stronger than matrimony. Which is why he demanded your presence in the gardens after the ending ceremony. He decorated according to your tastes, with colorful lanterns and firefly lights strewn across the plants.

He saw the hope in your eyes. The way they sparkled with affection and pride bloomed knowing that he was the cause.

“Malleus….It’s so beautiful. Did you prepare this just for me?” You ask, clutching your hands to your chest. He smiles, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a black velvet box in the shape of a rose.

“I’m happy to see you like it; however, I hope this offering pleases you more”

Malleus opens the box to reveal a ring. Your eyes widen owlishly and he interprets it as a good sign. Until you step back.

“Oh Malleus….I can’t accept this. We aren’t even dating!” You deny his unspoken proposal with a shaken tone Malleus’ is unfamiliar with. Not from you.

“Why not? I love you. Is that not enough? Do you not love me?”

He fails to understand why you declined. He spent countless hours studying human customs and expression. No. Studying you. He was confident you returned his affections. So why? Why not leave this place and join him?

You explain to him that you’re incapable of marrying someone you haven’t spent time with romantically. That you do care about him. That you liked him and did feel for him. That you could love him, but not so suddenly. You have friends at NRC and didn’t want to leave. Not to mention how him marrying a human, especially with no warning, would cause so many political problems.

Of course he had already taken all this into consideration. He didn’t care about all that, yet bit his tongue from speaking his mind. Another first for Malleus.

“What if I abide by your terms? Would you allow me to court you properly?” He cuts into your sea of reasons not to be together. They weren’t his concern. Only you.

This gets you. He clearly wasn’t listening. Love blinded the average person, and Malleus’ heart bled. You consider his offer, and agree to his courtship. It would be difficult to maintain considering your distance and his status. Yet they were fickle matters to Malleus.

You were his first failure, yet he didn’t mind. There was no true victory without a bit of labor.

The change that he so feared, it became something Malleus adored. Every time he would whisk you away from NRC, or return for a visit - you were different. You had a new story to share, or had changed your appearance. At first he began to panic once again at how quickly you seemed to evolve without him.

And one day he realized that you would keep changing. He’d see a new you forever. All these new versions. A constant spark and longing that made him realize how precious each one was. They would come whether he bid them to or not - so he had to cherish them. Every version of you was one he loved and lost. Yet the fact that another would emerge kept his heart complacent.

You were his first kiss on a dewy fall morning. You were his first heartfelt dance, dressed in shimmery black satin and pearls that he gifted. You were his first goodnight kiss, and first morning embrace. You were his first comfort after tragedy struck and his first sympathetic heartache. You were everything.

It was no longer about chaining you. He loved his firsts. He would forever remember them.

His first goodbye.

On the cusp of your 3rd year coming to a close, Malleus prepared the ring from two years prior. He would gift it to you after your graduation. It would be yours whether you accepted the meaning behind it or not - the ring could go to no one else.

An announcement arrives to him the week prior via pen and paper. Hand written by you and oh how he so loved your letters. Malleus opened it with calm delight, yet as his eyes traveled across the words he forgot how to control his strength. The paper alit in flames.

‘The Headmaster found a way to send me home. Would you come for a visit?’

The letter was not so blunt, but that’s all he could comprehend. Malleus was not ready to say goodbye. He once thought his greatest fear was to watch his flower wilt, yet now it must be cut to make a bouquet.

As much as it tore him apart, Malleus had to let you go. He couldn’t root you to soil forever. His hands unconsciously drift to the velvet rose box tucked safely in his breast pocket.

It’s only natural you’d be the source of some of Malleus’ lasts. He would never love another.

He joins you days before your ceremony. You explain to him the procedure to return, and he bites his tongue once again. He encourages you, and is happy that you’re happy. The ring burns a hole where his heart lies yet he continues on with grace, ignoring the cautious behavior of your peers whenever he’s around. The only opinion he cared for was yours, and he’d stay as long as you needed.

Malleus missed the way your heart sought his. The way you gave him chance after chance to ask you to stay. How you clung to him despite the roles normally being reversed.

“I guess this is goodbye. I’ll miss you,” you whisper, holding Malleus’ hand and glancing at the glowing portal behind him. Malleus smiles, his eyes softening as he leans forward to kiss your forehead.

“I will never forget your heart,” he murmurs against your skin, and reaches into his breast pocket with fluid movements. Malleus places the velvet rose box in your hands, cradling them gently with both of his.

“This is yours. I had it made for your finger alone, and only you will be the one to wear it. My heart belongs to you. Let this be my final selfish wish, but I hope you will think of me when you look upon it”

Malleus doesn’t understand why you break down. The way you clutch the box to your chest and look at him with such pain. He thought you wanted to go home. Is it not what you waited so long for?

He cannot be strong when you’re crying. How can you be so cruel. He won’t be able to -

“I want to be with you. I love you,” you whisper yet he hears it perfectly clear.

Malleus’ heart stutters and he clutches your shoulders. With one hand he tilts your chin up to look at him. Your eyes splotched with red irritation and glassy with sorrow. He wipes at their edges with his thumbs, cupping your cheeks ans looking at you for any sign of doubt. Any insincerity or fear. Your expression from years prior still lives rent free in his mind…he would not risk your happiness for his selfishness.

He finds nothing and pulls you in his arms. For the first time, Malleus sheds tears born from love. From relief. He wraps his arms protectively around you, and tucks his chin over your head.

“If you love something, let it be free. If it was meant to be yours then it will come back willingly. This is a saying of humans, is it not? I could not have you at the cost of your happiness. You do not deserve such a tainted love…but if this is truly what you desire, then I will not cease my efforts. You are mine, and I will eternally be yours,”

{Malleus’ ring is hand crafted by the royal blacksmith. Some would assume that there is a ring passed down through generations of the Draconia bloodline. There is not. The fae do not follow such traditions, yet Malleus would not instill all his values onto you. If it is a ring you need, then it is a ring he will get. He decides to reforge a gem plucked from his mother’s staff. The ring is made especially for you, with a teardrop-cut of magic-infused emerald as the focus point. It’s enchanted to reject any hand other than your own, and morphs to the size of your finger. It is subtle, made of pure gold, and a symbol of union between fae and mankind.}

"One should never make a vow of eternal love lightly. Take it from someone with ample life experience"

Lilia often imposes advice without any prompting. The musings of an old man normally went in and out of people's ears anyways. Sometimes it takes experience to learn, and no matter how we try to warn our children - fate is fate. They will go through the motions just as the people before them. Especially when it comes to trials of the heart such as love and loss.

Lilia knows both intimately. They've forged the man he is.

Philia: Love of friendship and equals. His peers, his comrades in arms, his fellow fae. The friends he has lost through death and distance. Those he fought to protect.

Storge: Parental love. To raise the son of his closest friends, and the blood of his sworn enemy. Lilia has fought through loss to feel the gratification of fatherhood. Lilia loves his children.

Agape: Love of man. This one took work. It took losing all he had, and then losing more. Hundreds of years of healing and trying to be better. Even in his final stretch Lilia is still learning this love.

Eros: Passionate, unconditional love. Lilia has felt this once, and only once. The wound still fresh with a dribble of salt steadily halting the healing process. To feel eros is a beautiful thing, but to have it ripped away is enough to kill.

Lilia experienced his fair share, and now enjoys watching those in the prime of life seek out love. He doesn't engage in romantic gossip, but enjoys watching others live their lives. One of his biggest curiosities being you, oddly enough.

This is because you've shown no interest in feeling love of any kind. Being the nosy man he is, Lilia finds your dismissal of others a bit concerning. He's not the most open person himself, yet you're a young human. This is when you should be wild! Surely you must feel something, considering all the 'escapades' you've been on with other students. The best way to bond is over shared trauma - he's not endorsing it. Just stating a fact.

"It's nothing personal. I'd rather not get too attached considering my living circumstances, if you catch my drift" you say in response to his prying.

He indeed 'catches the drift' and sees a bit of himself reflected in you. You were not unkind, yet also not overzealous. You did not push others away, yet also made an effort to protect yourself. For all the kind deeds you've done, Lilia knew better than to think it a case of bleeding heart syndrome. You remind him of how he was when deciding to raise Silver - afraid and very good at hiding it for the sake of others.

He decides to step in against his better judgement. If anything to repay the kindness you've done Malleus and his two youngsters. He couldn't watch you waste the precious life you’ve been given huddled away in isolation. Lilia would become your confident, as he is the most equipped to endure inevitably bidding farewell. If anything he will encourage you to forge stronger bonds of your own accord without fear.

He does an outstanding job at being the extrovert adopting an introvert. His favorite hobby being to startle you - popping out from random places like trees, bushes, the ceiling, your closet, etc. So much that you grow accustomed to his antics and expect them. Going so far as to always carry hard candies in your coat pocket as a peace offering.

He invites you to play online video games, go shopping, and sometimes pops by your dorm with Malleus. However his visits soon become solo, sensing that his adopted son didn't enjoy his 'nightly stroll' with his best friend being invaded. Lilia didn't mind - it meant that he'd get your company all to himself! There was nothing like watching a few horror flicks and tormenting Grimm after them. You even had a guest room in case he felt too ‘lazy’ to fly home.

On your birthday, he bakes a cake and leaves it on your kitchen windowsill. You found it, and even thanked him 'happily' later that day. He never said he was the chef though....you must have quite a keen sense of taste! That or he must be so talented that you know his cooking by heart!

Lilia felt a sense of relief, seeing your mannerisms shift from neutral to happy as time passed. It was hard work ebbing away at those walls of yours. It's not good for humans to be stressed. It lessens their already short lifespan.

He really should step aside. Let you befriend more humans and people that will support your journey. Except he doesn't want to. Philia's taken root in his heart - you're now a friend. An actual one.

So...he doesn't let go.

You join the college's boardgame club, and Lilia feels honored that he's the first you ask to play with. Each time you sought his company made him feel young again. Thrills did tend to follow your wake after all.

You often spent many evenings teaching Malleus, Silver, and even Sebek about your world. Not something Lilia planned for, but seeing you open up about it put his mind at ease. The different cultures, history, trends - Lilia listens in happily as well. Going so far as to learn some of your favorite recipes. He wants to cook them right away, but agrees to wait for your company. You grew nervous when he brought the topic up, possibly because you didn't want to be left out? Surely, that must be why.

Soon comes another January 1st - Signifying a new year and also Lilia’s birthday. The night prior he was out on the prowl, flying free throughout campus, watching people party and celebrate. Normally he’d spend this evening having fun of his own, but being caged at a school left him little chances to be free. Jumping across rooftops and sneaking around doing parkour was a trip down memory lane. The fireworks and lively people made for an excellent atmosphere.

By chance he happened on your rooftop, and decided to pop in for a quick respite. Slipping in through an open window was child’s play, as was avoiding your paranormal houseguests and popping in and out of rooms.

His keen hearing picks up your voice coming from the main bedroom - and normally he wouldn’t invade a personal space but the door was open. So obviously it was an invitation. He sticks to the ceiling and crawls to a shrouded corner with a mischievous grin.

How unsuspecting you were - dressed up in fancy clothes and muttering to yourself while in front of a floor length mirror. Lilia thinks you’re going to a party and is prepping to tag along -

“Alright. I can do this,” you mutter and turn around to pace the floor. A neatly wrapped present is clutched tight in your hands - wrapped in ivory paper with a sparkly pink ribbon. Lilia freezes just when he’s about to jump down, and clings back to the wall. “Just give it to him. Give it and tell him how you feel,” you turn towards the mirror, holding the box out, “Hello there Lilia. Yes, this is a birthday present. Yes, you’re a year older, how exciting! By the way I really like you so would you want to go on a date?” You fall silent, cringing in disgust at your reflection before sitting on the bed, “Ah. That was such dogshit”

Lilia exits as swift as he entered. The night air whips against his skin as he transforms into a bat and is already on the way back home. The implications of what he just witnessed weighing heavily on his mind.

This would not be the first time someone has caught feelings for him. You don't go 700 years without any suitors - he'd always turn them down with careful consideration.

Except he doesn't want to this time. That's the major issue.

The flight home was long, with purposeful detours until he felt tired enough to retire. A familiar bitter ache stung his heart. He'd only felt this disappointment once prior, and swore off letting it bud again.

Eros.

Lilia was in love too. He recognized the passion growing long before this moment, and against his better judgement let it fester.

"Seems I'm not as equipped to handle this as I once believed" he says to no-one and moves to play some online games instead of sleeping.

Lilia once felt a love he couldn’t express through anything other than fealty and devotion. It was a darker time where there was no promise of future. He swore not to endure that pain again - yet this is similar yet also different. The love is blooming effortlessly. His devotion is growing. The desire is there and so is the fear. All the same feelings yet without the dire weight of external forces adding pressure. This time it’s his choice to follow through. There’s no bigger force at play stopping him. Not even your mortality, considering how his lifespan is almost at its close.

Yet for all his years of wisdom, the thought of putting his heart out was still as frightening as the first.

In truth, Lilia had ulterior reasons for pursuing your companionship other than worry or repaying a debt. Your behaviors did remind him of his past self. That was no lie. He simply felt affection blooming upon your first meeting and thought having your friendship would morph it into something more tame. He had a habit of drawing in lost souls - what was one more?

Now the affection is stronger, and you return it.

Heavens, was he being given another chance? After all these years.

You return it. It's requited. He needn't hide it for the sake of someone else's happiness. Lilia could be selfish, if only he let himself.

The next day, Lilia finds an ivory box with a sparkly pink ribbon outside his door. A neatly written letter is attached, with the words 'Happy Birthday' written on the front. His name is written on the tag in black ink, with your name signed as the sender.

Lilia picks it up and undoes the wrapping with nimble movements. Inside is an assortment of treats that he wanted to try from your home, and a neatly folded letter atop them. It details exactly what was expected, a perfect explanation of your feelings that's entirely different than the nervous display he intruded upon.

He looks around the hallway, checking to see if you’re nearby before disappearing without a trace. Nothing but an open door showing that he left.

Everything after is a blur. While doing the dishes back at your dorm and trying not to think of the present - Lilia appears out of nowhere, startling you for what was probably the first time in months. His typical cheeky grin and snicker were nowhere in sight.

He says one thing, “Are you certain?”. The words held a heavy meaning for the both of you.

Asking if he’s willing to go for one last chance. To take one final risk or simply be satisfied with all he’s accomplished thus far. It asks if you’re willing to do the same - to risk everything you’ve built in one fell swoop.

You nod, and Lilia smiles. Not an impish smirk or a snarky grin. A true, soft smile that is full of released tension. He happily hugs you from behind as you finish working in silence, gradually slipping back to his playful ways yet not entirely. He would remain the out of touch peepaw that you so loved to tease him as, but a bit of his youthful spirit was being revived. His inner self being healed, perhaps.

He loves you, and the world hasn’t split in two. It was his time.

Finally.

From then on he had no reservations in loving you. This was a new form of eros. A new passion filled with joy and living for the moment - versus the weight of time holding him back like it did when he was younger. Nothing changed in your dynamic other than he now had the strength to let himself love freely.

Which is exactly why he wastes no more time. Just as he told you off hand long ago, one should not make a vow of eternal love lightly. He’d take his own advice and seek his own happiness for the first time in hundreds of years.

On a random night with no inkling of warning, Lilia drags you out of bed to the Ramshackle rooftop in nothing but your nightclothes. It wasn’t the first time he’d ask for a midnight escapade - just for the thrill and surprise, most of the time. He loved to keep things exciting.

Except he was being far too gentle. Far too nostalgic. He sits you down on the edge of the roof and puts his cardigan over your shoulders. Not a word passes between you as he tucks it snug around your shoulders - his hand tracing the line of your cheekbones, down your arms and to your hands. He cradles them gently, never taking his eyes from yours.

Then something foreign glimmers against your finger. In an effortless motion, he slipped the ring on without pause. You can’t help but stare at the gem in thought, looking between it and Lilia’s thoughtful expression over and over.

Lilia nods, taking your hand in his and running his thumb over the ring - admiring it against your skin.

“I’ve lived many years. Lead many lives. I thought I had accepted my nearing end, yet I find myself wanting more. I want to grey with grace at your side. To enjoy mundane evenings - greet you come morning and kiss you to seal a day’s end. I want my last life to be at your side, if only you will have me”

{A blood red garnet placed inside a blossom frame. Lilia’s ring is made of silver, and gives the illusion of a red rose in a bed of vines. Red is the color of passion, devotion, and unconditional love. Red roses hold this very meaning in the language of flowers. Lilia has felt this before - but you are his fated. You have chosen him simply for the person he is - not who he needs to be. He can finally be free and at peace. Your love is something he can selfishly hoard and it gives him the desire to enjoy life. He feels full. Happy. He hopes that this ring shows that he wants to live for the moment by your side, eternally}

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #diasomnia #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines

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altruisticalastor · 7 months

Text

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

☒ Summary: Your heart felt full as Alastor continued his lead. You both danced to the melodic sounds, relishing in the shared embrace. That night was one that you cherished for months to come. But on the contrary, your blossoming relationship with Alastor solidified the beginning of the end.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, prequel to the first two parts, alastor and reader are human in this part, 1930's period typical misogyny (NOT from alastor), fluff, falling in love, obsessive!alastor, reader is in hell for a reason, murder, gunshot wound, major character death, one suggestive scene involving finger sucking *giggles*, domestic!alastor, reader and alastor being an absloute power couple, blood, alcohol consumption, dancing

☒ Word Count: 6,276

You often dreamt of trading places with your dear old friend, Elaine. She had it all; money, family, respect.

You, on the other hand, had none of those things.

When your parents left without notice on your eleventh birthday— you ended up homeless in a matter of weeks. Elaine’s family took you in out of pity, and they made it very known throughout your childhood that they only cared for you to make themselves out to be saints. It didn't take a fool to see that they treated their own flesh and blood better than the rubble they picked up off the streets.

Elaine was often condescending toward you, but you put up with the brunt of it. It's not like you had any other choice- and when her father offered you a typist gig at his local radio broadcasting studio- you had no other option but to accept.

Your treatment from others at the studio was no better than the one you received at home.

If you could even call that loveless place a home.

The broadcasting biz was male-dominated, as most jobs were in your day. So, of course your counterparts looked down upon you as a woman. You were less than to them, and the constant berating about how you should be wed by now with kids to dote on ticked you off even further.

That was not on the itinerary for you.

The plan was to save enough of the slim earnings you made being a typist to run far away from this place. To be free of these people, from this town. You dreamt about how lovely it would be not to bite your tongue and endure all the nasty things people spat at you just to have a roof over your head.

Soon, just a little bit longer.

Grin and bear it. Don't let them know what you hide behind the façade.

"My, my! What a lovely smile!" A smooth voice pulled you from your stupor. You flinched back from your desk as the man standing before you ducked low- extending his hand.

"What's your name, little darling? I'm Alastor! It's a pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure!" You took the man's hand, shaking it slowly sharing your name, and offering the same pleasantries, before peering up to get a good look at this Alastor fellow.

Based on first impressions, you thought he was a well-put-together fellow. His crimson vest hugged his slender frame well, you noted. His white dress shirt underneath contrasted beautifully with the seamless leather gloves adorning his large hands. The black bowtie was simply the cherry on top of his polished look. His features were handsome, and that darling smile of his caused your face to grow hot. His chestnut eyes peered at you behind his round-framed glasses, gazing at you as if you hung the stars in the night sky.

You had never been captivated by a man until this very instant. You always believed romance was a waste of time. But now... you weren't feeling as opposed.

"Say, what brings a fella like you to a place like this?" You stood from your seat as his hand released yours. His gloved fingertips lingered on your palm for a moment- but it was long enough for you to notice.

"Why a job, of course! You're looking at the new host of the biggest radio broadcast in all of Louisiana!" Alastor's grin widened as he puffed out his chest proudly, bringing his hands up to straighten out his bowtie.

"Oh, my! Congratulations, Mister. I look forward to working with you." Your voice was as lively as ever, putting in your best effort to come off as friendly. Alastor's deep chestnut eyes studied yours. It was almost intimidating.

Almost.

"Just call me Alastor, my dear! A beauty such as yourself is more than qualified to be on a first-name basis with me." His flirtatious nature had your heart rate accelerating at an alarming gait. Plus, the wink he shot your way to emphasize his statement only added fuel to the fire.

You were at a loss for words, simply nodding in agreement at his terms. Your gaze averted from Alastor's as you rubbed at your arm nervously. You had never been this flustered before. It was... uncharacteristically exciting for you. "Excuse my fowardness darling, but would you allow me to take you dancing tonight? It is a cause for celebration, after all!"

His offer left you stammering as you clutched your arm tightly, your sweaty palm bleeding through your vermilion dress sleeve. "Are you positive you want to celebrate with a woman you only just met?" You chuckled nervously, meeting his gaze once more.

"It would be my pleasure, little darling." You swore your heart skipped a beat as those words left his lips. Alastor was an enigma of a man, and he left you needing to know more about him. "If you insist! I'm flattered, truly."

Alastor chuckled lowly at your words as he took ahold of your hand once more. This time, he turned your palm downward before pulling the back of your hand up to his lips. Alastor's eyes bored into yours as he placed a chaste kiss atop your knuckles. His lips lingered on your skin for a few beats longer until he inevitability abjured from you.

"Lovely! I'll be waiting in the lobby once the workload is finished for the day. Meet me there?" You could only nod in agreement as your heartbeat resounded in your ears. Alastor bid you farewell, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He just asked you on a date- didn't he?

Shit, shit- shit! A relationship was not on your to-do list.

The workday trickled on slowly. You were beside yourself— too focused on your plans with Alastor tonight.

Was your dress formal enough? It’s not like you could go home and change now— and you didn’t have the proper heels on. The pair that you usually switched into before you went dancing.

It would be fine— why were you even stressing over the little details?

More importantly… what were Alastor’s intentions with this— date?

You mulled it over the whole trip to the lobby of your workplace. You felt your nerves prickle your skin when your eyes met Alastor’s.

He was already waiting patiently for you near the exit. Alastor had a blazer on now, you noted— and he was smiling wider than ever. “Ah, there you are! Ready to head out, dear?”

Alastor’s voice was equivalent to a smooth amaretto. Silky and delightful, with a little bit of an edge to it. Your mouth felt like it was full of cotton from the nerves— and all you could muster was a quick nod.

“Wonderful! We better get going while the night is still young— ha!” Alastor opened the door, tilting his head; gesturing toward the exit. You got the hint, wobbly legs guiding you out of the building and to the dimly lit street.

You knew a speakeasy just up the other street, so you figured that was the spot Alastor intended on taking you. As your feet led you in the direction of the bar, Alastor let out an amused hum. “My, my… am I correct to assume you know your way around these parts of town?” You giggled nervously, as you felt Alastor’s arm brush up against yours as he walked beside you.

“You’re spot on. I’ve lived here all my life, and for a brief period, I was living on these streets.” Your voice was quiet as those words left your lips. Perhaps you should have kept that detail to yourself. You kept your eyes forward as you walked along the sidewalk. But you could feel Alastor’s eyes on you— without peeking over.

“Might I ask why, darling?” You swallowed harshly, not expecting a follow-up question. You secretly hoped Alastor would have skirted past that little detail about your past. “Ah well, my parents moved out of town on my eleventh birthday. I think they forgot what day it was, truthfully. They were too hopped up on pills and booze,” You laughed bitterly at the memory before continuing. “My parents owed the bank a lot of money, you see, so the first thing those brokers collected was the house I still lived in at the time.”

You shook your head in disbelief, scoffing as you continued the recollection of your youth. “Those money-hungry sharks didn’t even give me a month to collect my things or find somewhere to shack up. When the cops arrived, I told them I’d be staying with a relative— but that was a bold-faced lie!” The speakeasy was in your sights, so you tried to get to the end of this pitiful little tail. “Long story short— I lived on the streets for a couple of weeks until my friend’s parents took me in.”

Alastor swiftly opened the bar door for you, gesturing you in. You were met by the smooth sound of jazz the moment you stepped foot in the joint. The smell of cigarettes and liquor saturated the space. Alastor interlocked your arm with his as he led you to a nearby table. You felt heat rush to your face from the unexpected touch. “I’m truly sorry you had to experience such hardships at such a young age, my dear. That must have been very difficult for you to process.” Alastor’s voice was soft as he offered his sympathy. He pulled the wooden chair out, allowing you to sit comfortably. Alastor gently pushed your seat in before taking his across from you.

“Thanks for saying so. You’re the first person to actually consider my feelings.” You chuckled, raising your hand and gesturing your fingers in a come hither motion to grab the waiter's attention. “What ever do you mean?” Alastor propped his elbows on the table, cupping his face with his hands as he leaned forward. His eyes swirled with curiosity. Alastor was genuinely curious to know you better— your heart skipped a beat from the notion.

“Well— most people just praise Elaine— that’s my friend… if you could even call her that— anyway, as I was saying! Most folks boast about how heavenly Elaine’s parents are for taking in a poor old nobody like me.” The waitress knew you well, so he kindly placed your usual atop the creaky table. One for you and one for your date. You offered the fellow a warm thanks before taking a sip.

“Praise? Those folks did the bare minimum! Tell me more about your friendship with Elaine, hm?” Alastor didn’t bother downing the liquor just yet. He was too enthralled by you and your musings. You felt nervous under his curious eyes— so you took another sip of the saccharine quencher before continuing. “You sure—? I feel like I’ve been talking an awful lot, and where are my manners? I haven’t asked you a single thing!” You shook your head in disbelief, feeling embarrassed with yourself for your rude display.

Alastor’s gloved fingers wrapped around your hand in the blink of an eye. Your eyes flickered down to where the two of you were now connected before his voice tore your gaze back to his face. “Nonsense, my dearest! Please, I insist. I’d be delighted to know more about you.” His words were so earnest, and he spoke with much confidence. All you could focus on was the feeling of his gloved fingertips caressing the back of your palm and the echo of your heartbeat resounding in your ears.

“Alright— if you insist… but if I ramble too much, just tell me to shut it, will ya?” You downed the last of your drink as a laugh escaped Alastor. “I would never silence you, darling. Don’t ever allow a single soul to treat you that way for that matter, understood? Now, carry on!” You felt your blood pressure spike from his kindness, and your hand twitched under his grasp from the giddiness you felt before you continued on. “U-Understood. Anyway, um, Elaine is an old-school buddy of mine. But we grew apart the older we got… so, by the time we reached junior high, she practically hated my guts!” You laughed at the recollection as the alcohol buzz began to kick in.

“Elaine would make up nasty rumors about me and then deny the fact that she did. Any other friend I tried to make, Elaine would somehow do or say something to make them dislike me. I couldn’t do anything about it— I had to play nice because of the living conditions. I still do!” Alastor’s eyes never left yours, and neither did his hand. He continued to rub the back of your palm soothingly as you rambled on.

“Even my job at the radio station… it wasn’t my choice. But Elaine’s father owns the company, so he offered me the typist position. Not like it was really an offer, though— I had no choice but to accept the opportunity. Otherwise, I would have been ungrateful. Christ, I really hate those folks… they look at me as if I’m—“

“—Scum?” Alastor chimed in. His voice was low as he leaned in closer. Your head was a bit fuzzy from the alcohol as you felt his breath fan across your cheeks. “Yeah… like scum.” You felt his hand tighten around yours. His smile was smaller than before, a bit more rigid, for that matter.

“I knew you and I were the same. The moment laid eyes on you, I knew,” Alastor paused, bringing his free hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You see, I was treated that same way my entire life, my dear. Until I decided I was quite the opposite of what those disrespectful wretches deemed me as.” His hand lingered by your face, daring to cup your cheek.

Alastor's breath had a hint of coffee and spice to it— you noted— as his face inched even closer to yours. “And you are too, my dear. Those fools don’t hold a candle to your magnificence.” Your body felt light, and all you could focus on was Alastor’s chestnut eyes— every breath you took fogged up his glasses a little.

“You really think so?” You muttered, a lazy grin stretching across your face as Alastor finally allowed his gloved palm to rest against your cheek.

"I know so, my sweet girl.” He caressed your burning face with much tenderness. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, and your thoughts were all out of sorts as you tried to articulate a proper sentence in your drunken stupor.

“What did you mean before when you said— that you and I are one and the same?”

Alastor let out a soft chuckle, causing your eyes to flutter shut for a moment. He leaned over the table, invading your personal space. Dipping his face low— lips lingering next to your ear. “You use your smile as a tool. Hiding how you truly feel behind that pretty little mask of yours.” Your breath hitched from his words— was it that obvious? Could everyone tell that your welcoming smile was nothing but a lie? Before you could spiral further— and as if Alastor could sense your worries— he eased your mind with his words. “Worry not, my dear. Only I can see through your façade. One should recognize themselves when looking into a mirror, yes?”

Alastor slowly pulled his head back. Allowing his face to come into your line of sight. “So you… and I… are alike in that way, huh?” You mumbled out, letting an airy chuckle escape you. Alastor squeezed your hand once more before he leaned back in his chair. You watched as the man sitting before you picked up his untouched glass of liquor. He downed his drink in the blink of an eye slamming his glass against the table before standing up from his seat.

“I take pride in keeping my promises, and I have intention to dance with you tonight, my dear. So, shall we?” Alastor outstretched his hands toward you, his toothy grin cascading across his features. You took hold of him without hesitation, giggling youthfully when he pulled you to your feet with ease. “I’d be delighted!” Alastor wasted no time pulling you to the open floor. The music was as vibrant as ever now that you were closer to the live band. The vibrations of the music reverberated through your sternum; as did the butterflies when you felt Alastor’s large palm drape around the small of your back.

His other hand took ahold of yours, and instinctively, you placed your other palm flat against his shoulder. Alastor began leading you to the melody of the song. Your cheeks hurt from how wide your grin was. You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled and meant it before tonight— all thanks to this mysterious man you met today. “Alastor, I know we only just met, but I feel like I’ve known you all my life!” You shouted loud enough for only Alastor to hear beyond the music. His chestnut eyes swirled with an emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on as his eyebrows lifted in shock.

“You took the words right out of my mouth, my dearest! The moment I saw you, I knew you would be truly magnificent.” Alastor dipped you low, his grasp on you tightening to support you. He was slow when he dragged your upper half back up, allowing your chest to slot against his own.

“Well, did I meet your expectations?” You joked. Alastor ducked his head low, allowing his face to invade your personal space. This time, his nose brushed against yours, lips mere centimeters from colliding.

“You exceeded them.” Alastor’s voice was quiet, but you heard him. Loud and clear.

This moment felt too good to be true, and the longer you gazed into his captivating eyes, the more lost you became in Alastor. Your lips trembled in anticipation— and your hand at his shoulder clenched and unclenched— a small habit to help ease the nerves.

“Would it be foolish of me to say that I… feel like I’m falling for you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you searched for any displeasure that dared to cross his face from your confession— but you found none.

“And if I admitted to reciprocating those feelings… would that make me outlandish as well?” Alastor’s hand released yours, now opting to slide up between your bodies to cup your chin beneath his gloved fingertips. He tilted your head up just a touch more.

Alastor finally closed the gap between your lips and his. Your eyes widened in shock from the chaste kiss he gave you. You caught Alastor’s intense stare on you while he pressed further into you before your eyelids fluttered shut. The grip you had on his shoulder tightened as his lips danced along yours. They were warm and cracked slightly from his incessant smiling. But you didn’t mind it one bit. He tasted of your favorite liquor and conviction.

Your mind went fuzzy from the mix of alcohol running through your bloodstream and the feeling of sharing your very first kiss with a man you met only earlier today.

It’s strange. Even though you only crossed paths with Alastor this morning— he was the first person in your life to ever see you; the real you. The woman you kept hidden behind a plethora of masks and musings. You prided yourself on your foolproof façade, so when Alastor just waltzed past your guarded walls, it threw you for a loop. But this change of pace was the best thing that could have ever happened to you. For the first time in your life, you felt a sense of control over your own life— over your own freedom. Alastor believed in you, so why shouldn’t you believe in yourself?

Alastor parted his lips from yours slowly, savoring the moment with you for as long as he could. Your eyelids peeled open, taking in Alastor's pleased countenance. "Oh, my darling. There's no way I'm letting you out of my sight now."

Your heart felt full as Alastor continued his lead. You both danced to the melodic sounds, relishing in the shared embrace. That night was one that you cherished for months to come. But on the contrary, your blossoming relationship with Alastor solidified the beginning of the end.

You could hardly stay away from Alastor after your first date. It was as if a magnetic force was pulling you to him. He walked you home from the radio station each night and met you at your doorstep each morning. He even told you one time that he memorized absloutely every part of your day so you could always have time for each other. It was the little things that made you fall even harder for him. Alastor would leave a bouquet of roses atop your desk every Friday when you took your lunch break so that when you arrived back, you would be pleasantly surprised by his gesture.

Alastor was a proper gentleman, and his kindness and care toward you almost made you forget about the rotten things in your life— almost.

Elaine grew jealous of your new beau. She noticed you were livelier than ever, and that just wouldn't cut it. Misery loves company, after all.

She had her father triple your workload, forcing you to stay after hours. It took a toll on you and made it harder to keep time for Alastor.

But that wasn’t all— your room would be trashed by the time you came home. And somehow, your very few belongings started going missing.

The last of your patience went out the window when you noticed the locket Alastor gifted you for your one-month anniversary was nowhere to be found.

It didn’t take a genius to realize Elaine was behind your sudden stroke of bad luck. You put up with the torment all your life, but not anymore. You were at your wits end with Elaine and her arrogant family.

“Christ, I hate that wicked woman!” You groaned in frustration as you barged into Alastor’s apartment. The lanky man whipped his head in your direction from where he sat at the piano. His fingers stilled against the keys, ending his song with a dull note. “What did she do this time, my dear?” You stormed over to him before slotting yourself beside Alastor on the piano bench.

“The locket you gave me for our one-month anniversary is missing! She stole it— I just know it!” You gritted through bared teeth. Alastor wrapped an arm around your shoulder, hugging you close to his side as he cooed at you. “You know, the offer to move in with me still stands.” His voice was gentle as he placed a kiss atop your head. His large palm smoothed over your arm; in an attempt to ease your nerves.

Heat rose to your face from the mention of his proposition. Sure, you thought about it countlessly. But you and Alastor were only approaching that six-month mark of your flourishing relationship. You always believed in the notion of waiting to live with a partner until after marriage. That’s what you conveyed Alastor. “You know we can’t… unless you are willing to get hitched tomorrow,” You joked, turning your head slightly to peer up at him.

“Darling, you know I would marry you in a heartbeat. But one of us is not ready for marriage quite yet!” He quipped, dipping low and nuzzling his nose into yours. Your heart did a flip from his unyielding confession.

You knew Alastor would do anything for you at this point— this man was like no other. He worshipped the ground you walked on, yet you still were on the fence about marriage. You still had your personal goals you wanted to achieve before tying the knot, and Alastor respected your wishes. But you knew deep down he was aching to put a ring on your finger and claim you as his for good.

“Hey— don’t tease! I just… It’s becoming harder to put up with their nonsense. I wish they would all disappear! Elaine, her father, and her mother.” You let out a long sigh as your body slumped forward. You rested your head atop Alastor’s broad shoulder, smiling softly at his familiar scent.

“Well, I could make that a reality for you, my sweet girl.” Alastor’s voice was low and dripping with mystery. You laughed at his cryptic utterance. “Yeah, by doing what? Throwing them in a ditch?” You joked, raising a brow as his hand halted against your arm. The air became thick with tension as the silence grew louder.

“…Well yes, my dear! But the ditch part would be after all the fun.” You quickly turned to face him, your frantic eyes scanning his features for any semblance of falsehood. You found nothing of the sort.

Alastor’s features were as relaxed as ever. As if he asked you something as mundane as 'what day was it?’

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Your voice was level as your eyes locked with his chestnut ones. You nervously anticipated his response. “Quite so! Have you noticed the lack of journalists around the radio station lately?" His question threw you for a loop.

Now that you thought about it- yeah, there has been a lack of jerks around the office. The same fellows that undermined you just for existing.

“Well now that you mention it— yeah, I have. What does that have to do with anything?” You tilted your head slightly, still not following where your boyfriend was going with this. Alastor’s grin sharpened as his eyes flickered to your lips. “My, dearest, you are too pure for your own good. It drives me crazy.” Alastor’s other hand drifted from the piano keys. His thumb and forefinger came up to grasp your chin. He pulled you in close as his eyes flickered back to yours.

“Well, I took care of those nasty good-for-nothings! They are resting comfortably in a ditch deep within the preserve. So, no need to worry your pretty little head over it!” Your eyes widened from his confession— his even tone and frenzied stare proved that what he said was factual.

“They had it coming! Speaking down to you in such a way. I could hardly stand it any longer, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.” Alastor sounded pleased with himself as he confessed to murder so casually. Your eyebrows rose in shock as he tugged you closer. Your lips ghosted over his. “You killed those men for my sake?”

You could smell the whiskey on his breath from this proximity. Alastor’s hand— that rested on your arm— now found purchase around your waist. “Indeed, and I would do it again in a heartbeat for your sake.” You could sense his anticipation to kiss you at that moment.

His love for you was suffocating in the best way possible. You didn’t know you were capable of drowning until you sank into his touch. “And I would take pleasure in ending Elaine and her parents’ lives. If it meant your precious mind would be at ease.”

Your heart fluttered as you closed the gap. Your lips molded against his, moving in tandem. You turned your body toward him through your shared embrace, sliding a leg up and over the piano bench— now straddling the seat. Alastor’s grip on your waist tightened. His fingertips twitched with need as they danced further along your side. You reached out for him, desperately carding your hands through his chestnut locks. Alastor’s chest pressed tightly into yours as his lips moved against yours with a searing desire. You only dared to pull back when your lungs started burning. Alastor rested his forehead against yours as you shared the same air.

“You really mean it?” You asked breathlessly, allowing your hands to cup his cheeks.

“My dear, I would die for you,” Alastor paused, the pad of his thumb swiping across your bottom lip sensually.

“I would lie for you,” His thumb pushed past your parted lips, and your tongue instinctively swirled around his deft digit.

“I would happily follow you to hell if you asked me to.” You gave his finger a playful suck, reveling in the sight of Alastor’s deep blush.

His chestnut gaze fixated on your mouth as you pulled off of his thumb with a wet pop. Alastor shuddered at your sultry display. His grip on your waist was firm.

“Please, Alastor. I want to be a part of it this time. We will be unstoppable together.”

Alastor swore he fell in love with you a thousand times over the moment those words left your lips. You couldn’t be any more perfect for him.

Alastor wanted to tell the whole world about the colors he saw in your eyes; the colors a man out of love could never recognize. He truthfully would have married you the first day you met. It was fixation at first sight.

He was overjoyed to commit murder alongside you— one of the many memorable first times you would come to share. Alastor saw the pieces fall into place before his very eyes the moment he witnessed you take someone’s life.

The frenzied stare you harbored; the blood spattering over your perfect face, decorating your smile in a picturesque way. Alastor swore meeting you was his life purpose, and assisting you on your first kill solidified that sentiment for him.

Alastor could not suppress the urge to touch you at that moment. He pulled you close, taking the lead like many times before. You danced around the dead bodies, laughter filling the barren space as the record player skipped from the other room.

He always knew red was your color. The first time you met, you were wearing a vermillion dress. But the deep crimson blood covering you from head to toe was your best look yet— he thought.

After you both hid the evidence and any proof of life— fabricating notes on Elaine and her parents' behalf to make it seem like they went abroad— you celebrated.

Celebrated the past no longer having you in its clutches.

Celebrated the freedom of never having to grin and bear it to survive; ever again.

Celebrated the ever-growing love you held for Alastor— as he did you.

Celebrated the new beginnings and the best that was yet to come.

You saw life in a new light from that day forward, seizing each day with delight.

With Elaine’s father out of the picture, Alastor became the man in charge at the radio station. He had full creative freedom to take his radio show in any direction he pleased. If folks dared to disagree, Alastor would promptly take care of them.

Business was booming for Alastor at the radio station, and you were finally out pursuing hobbies and careers that inspired you.

Alastor ended up popping the question a couple of months later as things began to settle down for you both. It was romantic, really. His gesture was over the top and grand in the best way possible but still entirely authentic to Alastor. You finally felt ready to take the next step in your relationship. And so, you said yes.

Alastor was over the moon when you agreed. You could have sworn you saw a single tear roll down his cheek— but he denies it vehemently.

You didn’t have any friends or family, and neither did Alastor— with his mom having passed years prior, so you truthfully had no need for a grand ceremony. Alastor sorted out the date for you to be wed. The anticipation only elevated your excitement by the day. And when the date finally approached, you could hardly contain your joy.

You took on the day like any other— you made breakfast, hung the laundry on the clotheslines, participated in your favorite pastimes, and met up with Alastor in the preserve to assist him in burying his most recent victim.

You didn’t know the dead fellow, but you were sure Alastor had a fair reason for killing him. The man probably took the last jar of special spice from the store that Alastor used to recreate his mother’s jambalaya— and in that case, the prick had it coming.

It was dusk. The sky was a mesmerizing red and orange ombré as you walked hand in hand through the woods with Alastor. Your free hand held a shovel, and his free hand gripped the ankle of the deceased man whom he dragged from behind along the rocky path. Now and then, the dead man’s clothing would cling to a stubborn stone, making Alastor halt in his stride. You would share a chuckle before he tugged the man free, continuing down the path with you by his side.

You were so excited to get this over with, so you could head to the courthouse with your beloved Alastor. As you recited your vows in your head, you suddenly heard a loud boom before your hearing failed you entirely. Everything was motionless after that.

Your mind scarcely processed what had happened until you turned to face Alastor. The sight before you had your stomach in knots. Your beloved was bleeding from his forehead, and as if you were in slow motion— your arms reached up to him as his legs buckled beneath him. You knew you were screaming by the burning sensation in your throat, but your ears were still ringing in a deafening manner. The last thing your conscious mind ever saw was the grim view of all light leaving Alastor’s eyes.

Those same eyes that grounded you. That brought you purpose and offered you nothing but love and devotion.

All of that was gone in a split second.

After that, you felt a searing pain in your head before your vision went dark.

It was as if you were underwater. You felt lighter than air as you sunk deeper into uncharted waters. You could hear muffled voices and flashing lights shining from the surface— but it was all out of reach. You just sunk peacefully. Enjoying the enshrouding darkness.

However, your peace was torn from you as quickly as it was obtained.

“She’s a Jane Doe. Poor girl got caught in the crossfire. I bet she didn’t even know the guy she was walking with was a serial killer!” Your eyes burned from the bright lights and the nauseating white ceiling that took up your line of sight as the distant people continued to chatter. “I bet he tricked her into thinking he was a good guy— bet he led her out in those woods just so he could kill her like that poor fellow he was dragging out there!”

The rhythmic beeping increased as all your focus shifted to the intense shooting pain coming from your head. “Oh— she’s awake! Miss, can you hear me?” You groaned softly as an older woman came into your line of sight. She was peering over you. You must have been lying down— you thought.

“Loud and clear.” You mumbled, trying to sit up only to be pushed back down by the stranger. “Miss you can’t do that! You’re in the hospital. You suffered from a severe injury. Please, don’t make any sudden movements.” Her words took a moment to process through your semi-conscious mind.

“What happened to me?” You managed to mutter as you closed your eyes. The intense lights were causing your head to ache even worse. “Miss, you were shot in the head. It was a hunting accident gone wrong,” The nurse paused, giving you a moment to digest her words before continuing.

“Turns out the man you were out in those woods with was a wanted serial killer. That Alastor fellow was an active murderer for decades! The papers say he was good at steering clear of the cops for all these years. The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer,” Your mind was struggling to piece things together as the nurse rambled along.

“The bullet you took probably was the exact reason you’re still alive! Who knows what that maniac would have done to you? Which reminds me, do you remember your name, sweetheart? You didn’t have identification on your person. We asked around the area to see if anyone recognizes you, but we've had no luck with that.”

You were surely dreaming, right?

Everything this woman was saying sounded outlandish. How did you even end up in a situation like that, and more importantly—

Wait… what is your name?

“I… I don’t know. I can’t… remember a thing.” You shook your head, which only caused you more pain as your eyes shot open. You were still met by the sight of the noisy nurse, and the white hospital walls.

Nope, not a dream.

The nurse looked at you with a horrified look. “Oh geez… the doctor said your injury could cause memory loss, but it was a slim chance. Let me go fetch him. This is way out of my pay grade.” The sound of her footsteps echoed through your head before they slowly dissipated. You gaped up at the blank wall.

A clean slate, nothing to give the surface any character.

Ironic.

You had no clue who you were and no memories of your life before this accident.

You were left with more questions than answers.

The only thing you knew about yourself was that you were one of many Jane Doe's.

Fuck.

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n #alastor fluff #alastor angst #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel fluff

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quimichi · 7 months

Text

₊❏❜ ⋮ MEETING THEIR FAMILIES -HEARTSLABYUL VER.

warnings: bad treatment towards reader (Riddles part), bad writing :3

summary: You meet their families

characters: Heartslabyul x F!Reader

word count:

a/n: I originally planned to do all in one part but I decided not to since it's so so much and I'm currently having a writers block but I wanna make you guys happy so-its in parts :(

Riddle

Riddle's mother is a strict woman, and she does not hide her dislike for you. She frowns the moment she sees you and crosses her arms. The situation is tense as she watches you, her gaze sharp and unblinking. She seems to be considering your motives with her son, but it is clear that she has a low opinion of you for some reason.

Riddle is nothing compared to her; he has no power, he's weak standing beside you. Yet, he stands proud, he loves you and no matter what his mother will say, his mind won't change. "Mother," he begins. She shoots a hard look at him. With that stare, she seems to say 'do. not. talk."

Riddle goes silent. He knows that if he does talk, it might ruin her approval...if that will ever happen. But you decided to speak up, nervously, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you! Riddle has told me so many lovely things of you!" you bow down, showcasing your respect. His mother's expression does not change. She seems to consider you for a while before speaking:

"Do you think yourself worthy of my son? Do you think you are a good match for him?"

It's clear that she is sizing you up, and her gaze is piercing.

"Yes." Riddle grabs your hand and gives it a tight squeeze. Showing you his support, no matter what he won't back out either, cause he knows whats coming. Your words only draw a frown from his mother. Her expression turns sour.

"I do not think you can give my son the life he deserves. You are too low class for a nobleman. It is clear why you would date him, but what do you have to offer us? It would disgrace his name and our family to wed a commoner. A magicless commoner!" She continues to size you up. She is relentless. Her frown only hardens with every passing moment.

"My son is a nobleman. He deserves a woman of nobility. Riddle dear, I know the perfect girl for you she-" "No!" His voice rings through the halls with booming thunder.

"How dare you," he shouts, his eyes like daggers. He looks as though every muscle is about to tense up so hard it'll burst. "She is good enough. She is worthy of my love. There is no one in this world who I will ever love and admire more! If you don't agree with this relationship then-!...Then I might just leave.

Riddle is standing protectively in front of you now. His heart is thrumming so hard he can feel each pulse. His last words were spoken unsure, timidly, but it's the truth.

"...Then do."

Trey

Trey's parents are thrilled to meet you. The moment they saw you at their doorstep, they took you into their family. They are gracious hosts, offering you food and drinks as soon as you step into the house. Everything is warm and welcoming. Not to mention the cake they baked for you!

The afternoon tea goes smoothly, with conversation flowing as easily as a river. "Again, thank you so much for the tea and cake! It was absolutely delicious!" "It was nothing," Trey's mother says as she refills your mug. She smiles warmly, keeping herself composed with effort. She has heard a lot about you, after all, and the impression she has received so far has been wonderful. Its hard for her to contain her pure excitement, she might explode. All her husband can do is calm her down with a hand on her shoulder, smiling both at you and his wife.

Trey doesn't dare say anything, his lips pressed shut in a smile as he watches from his place. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself, content to watch you and his parents interact.

"BROTHER!" You hear two voices yell from the hallway...seems his siblings arrived from school. Trey's young siblings finally make their grand entrance, their voices filling the room with an unexpected cacophony of excitement and joy. The scene is a chaotic one, but in a good way.

His younger brother runs up to you immediately, "Oh-Oh-! You're the pretty girl-!" Before you can question anything his sister also tunes in, "Ohhh-! She really does look as sweet as gum drops-!" "You two, shush immediately-! I'm so sorry-!" Trey's mother apologizes for the behavior of her youngest children, but you shake it off. How could you ever be upset about the honesty of those sweethearts. You definitely will have a word with Trey once you get back...

Cater

Cater never kept it a secret, how much he despises his sisters and mother sometimes. More than once he told you stories. But he has also told you that slowly, the relationship gets better...slowly.

Cater's mother is especially overbearing. She tries her best, but she seems almost incapable of not adding only their favorite sweets to the tablem. She is a bundle of nerves, and she often dotes on Cater. It's as if she finds comfort in treating him like a child, because he is so quiet and calm. Yeah, quite and calm, if only they knew who he truly was.

"Thank you so much for having me." a genuine smile sets on your lips as she pours tea into your cup. "We are so glad to have you," Cater's mother says with genuine warmth.

His sisters continue to prod you in both questions and comments, being too forceful and tactless at times. They think they're being endearing and curious, but don't quite realize that they're over stepping. Cater sits beside you, his eyes darting back and forth as the questions keep flowing. Hes annoyed, of course they will ask inappropriate questions and take the attention.

"Where was the first kiss?" "Ohhh my god did he use his tounge?" "Cater, your hair today looks frizzy." "You look cute but...that top with those jeans...i don't know. Cater you should really watch what your girlfriend wears!" "Yeah! Spend some money on her, damn." "Bad boyfriend."

The constant barrage of questions and comments from his sisters would make even the most stoic people wither. You are not one of those people - you are more patient than you ever realized. You smile through the barrage of words, answering most that you can, ignoring the rest. It hurts, some hurt. You get Cater now to 100%. Your calm demeanor and soft eyes would calm anyone's heart, but his sisters are a bit too persistent, their endless questioning seeming to have no end.

This goes on for some time, until Cater is visibly agitated. "Stop," he says under his breath. He is usually calm and collected, so it draws everyone's attention, even his mother's. "What?" One of his sisters finally asks, feigning innocence.

"Enough," he says simply, but his tone is enough to get them to back off.

He takes a few breaths before giving his mother and sisters a smile. The situation diffuses, but you can sense that he is annoyed. "I just wanted to introduce you to my girlfriend, we didnt came here for an interview. Her outfit is perfect, and I'm NOT a bad boyfriend! I know I'm not..."

Ace

Ace's older brother is charming, witty, and well-liked by everyone. He teases his little brother without any cruelty, making lighthearted jokes at his expense. He is very protective of Ace, he just wants his little brother to be happy. And obviously he wants him to behave in this relationship too.

"He has spoken of you a lot," the older brother comments, his tone teasing. His brother wiggles his eyebrows towards him, "A bit too much, it seems," Ace says, keeping his voice low, but you hear the annoyance.

"I can't help but hear all about you whenever he's calling me... how much he cares for you, how he's so lucky to have you..." his brother's tone is good-natured. He's just having fun, and hes so glad his brother found true happiness. "Ohh, what else did you say?" Ace can hear the teasing in your voice, no way you're going into this too. "Shut up-!" "Oh, you know," the older brother laughs. "He says you are the sweetest, most beautiful being in the whole wide world. You're an angle with the patience you have for him. He would do anything for you without a second thought. He swears he has never loved another as he has you."

"What a mushy little guy my brother can be," his older brother says, sounding amused.

Ace is turning red. His voice comes out slightly strained, cracking. "I-! I NEVER-! Shut up I never said anything like that, that's way to sappy!" "Mhmmmm, sure bro, sure" His older brother smiles, genuinely.

"I've never seen him so happy," he says, "He's truly a good guy, he just has some rough edges. I'm glad someone like you took their time to get to know him...Take care of him for me."

Deuce

His mother beams. "Oh! This is the one you've been telling me about? You've done well. She is a beauty!"

Deuce's face is tomato red. He is the picture of nervousness, his eyes darting about the room with his mouth clamped shut for fear that he will say too much or too little. His mother's enthusiastic and effusive approach is overwhelming him. He wants to sink into the floor, damning himself for telling his mother and grandmother about you so much. "We are so delighted to have you here. Please," his mother continues, offering you her seat. "Sit, sit! No need to stand around!"

She smiles widely at you as she gestures to a plush chair across from them. A low table separates you, and the three of you are arranged across from one another. Deuce's grandmother walks slowly behind his mother, bearing a tray of tea and pastries in her hands. Without a word, she sits down and quietly offers one of the small cakes to you.

She doesn't take her eyes away from you, smiling wide. You can't help but smile back at her, but before you can thank her she leans closer to Deuce mother. "Perfect aren't they? I knew someone wil eventually see that our Deuce is a catch." She wasn't as discreet as she thought she was, but you can only agree with her, Deuce is a catch.

"Thank you so much-!" "It's nothing, dear," she says, her voice soft as velvet. His mother breaks the silence, leaning forward in her seat. "Now then, tell us all about yourselves. We have heard plenty from our son, but we want to hear from you."

Deuce is paralyzed. He has nothing ready to say. His mouth is dry and his heart is pounding in his chest. Although he is more than happy both his most loved family members love you, he is still nervous. It's embarrassing! "Wait-!" His grandmother immediately stands up from her seat. She disappears and reappears with a thick photo album. She settles back down and opens it.

"Now, let me show you my handsome boy when he was young. I think this is a much better idea!"

Deuce's head falls back, someone kill him. His heart stops at the pictures of himself....fuck...he's naked....

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanon #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trapolla x reader #deuce spade x reader #heartslabyul #heartslaybul x reader #twst x reader

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lina-lovebug · 8 months

Text

I'd Fight The Devil

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Background: (Y/N) Morningstar with her partner, Alastor, has decided to put some of the Overlords in their place.

Warning: Alastor being Alastor, mentions of pregnancy but no one's pregnant, and Alastor might have a breeding kink

_ _ _

"(Y/N)! What a surpri-!"

"I believe that's Princess (Y/N) Morningstar, Heir to the throne of Hell, and Duchess of Chaos - to you," Alastor loved doing this. He adored how (Y/N) had decided to start using her true power, and to bring respect back to her name.

The family name, to be exact.

Valentino chuckled nervously as (Y/N) scoped out the place, her horns ever presenting and tail flicking with annoyance.

"What a pleasure to be hosting you, Princess. What would be the reason for this visit?" Valentino asked, offering her a drink.

"I'm fine, thank you," She dismissed it, already smelling the poison inside the cocktail.

"I'm here to discuss Angel Dust, and your contract with him."

"If he's too much trouble for the hotel, I'll happily-"

"You're the one causing the trouble," Alastor cut him off.

Valentino sputtered, "me?!"

"You can feign innocence all you wish, Val, but I've heard that you've called my sister a bimbo, along with many other colorful names," (Y/N) slowly stood up, leaning over his desk as the lights started to go out - one by one.

"Charlie is nice. She's always been the kinder of us Morningstars, but apparently this makes you think that you can go and soil our name. My father could have strung every sinner on a hook for eternity, torturing you all second by second as your screams sung into our great halls," no one had been unfortunate enough to see the form of (Y/N) Morningstar, and Val was one of them.

Her height expanded to nine feet tall, her pretty black nails forming into claws and her eyes ablaze with scarlet serpent pupils.

And wings - oh great black wings that could make even Adam rethink his attack.

When he was still alive, of course.

"And you sully his gift by mocking us."

"Look, Vox did it first! Okay?! He said you'd never-!" Val tripped on a tentacle that came from her beloved Alastor, who dropped a TV by his feet.

But not just any TV.

"Oh God," Val gasped, "Vox. . .?"

"I took care of him earlier," Alastor grinned, still reminiscent on his screams.

"I couldn't have my dear (Y/N) sully her hands with his filth. But whatever the Princess wants, she gets."

Oh to see her come into her power was as chilling as death itself.

"You're so romantic, Alastor," (Y/N) smiled.

That's when Valentino spotted it. On the left hand of (Y/N) Morningstar was a ruby wedding ring, the band pure gold.

Alastor finally did it.

He climbed up the latter, but not through power.

Well yes, through power, but he certified that it would always be his.

By marrying Lucifers daughter.

"We're matching, isn't it adorable?" Alastor showed off his own wedding band, ruby's encrusted inside of it.

"Now, where were we?" She grinned, and as an engagement gift, the screams of Vox and Valentino were broadcasted throughout all of Hell.

And they say chivalry is dead.

_ ☆ _

"They're fucking crazy."

"They're made for each other."

On that, Angel Dust and Husker could agree.

The lovely couple had become the center of Hells attention after their engagement was announced, and even though Alastor thought it would be hilarious for Lucifer to find out through the papers, she told him first.

And he cried.

"Oh my baby is all grown up!" Lucifer sobbed loudly, clinging onto her legs, "look at you! You-you used to be this small!" Lucifer grabbed a duck, "and you were so tiny and so cute!"

"Am I invited?" Lucifer squeaked, staring up into her eyes.

"Yes, dad," She smiled, bringing him up to his feet, "but we want to wait a bit before we plan anything."

"You know she used to bite my finger?!" Lucifer grabbed the baby pictures of little (Y/N), "look at how small she was! Oh, and this one is my favorite!"

Alastor truly didn't mind how touchy Lucifer had become with him, but thankfully, Lucifer also knew when to stop.

"Wait, is that why you're getting married?! Did you impregnate my daughter?!" Lucifer gasped, shoving his hand on her stomach.

"Dad! Dad, no! I'm not pregnant!" She quickly cleared up.

"Unfortunately," Alastor muttered to himself. Oh to see her belly swell with his children - his own spawn, it made his cock twitch at the thought.

He was fond of children but his own? Oh he'd spoil his little prince or princess with all the blood sacrifices the world had to offer.

"Yeah but you know what marriage entails, kiddo!" He pointed at them both with finger guns, "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby-oh my GOD I'll be a grandpa!"

He started crying again.

She sighed, "at least we know our hypothetical child will be taken care of."

Alastor nodded, "I could not have picked a better father-in-law."

At this point, Lucifer was ugly crying.

Alastor looked at his beloved with a soft gaze as she tried calming her father down. To be honest, Alastor never thought he would ever find solace in Hell. He anticipated every day being a fight for his life, always looking over his shoulder and always striving for more power. And as cheesy as it sounded, he saw (Y/N) as his shining light. She brought out his sad heart, and for the first time in his life, he wished his mother was with him.

To see just what a wonderful woman he managed to catch.

#alastor imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

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boiohboii · 1 year

Text

The surprise guest (who had to be protected by the host)

Lando Norris x Leclerc! Reader

After Lando Norris had a make out session with YN Leclerc on his stream, it hadn't been intentional, he had been too scared to come face to face with any of his girlfriend's three older brothers. But when his girlfriend's mother invites him over for dinner, he can't just ignore her

in which Pascale Leclerc invites her daughter's boyfriend (or as she likes to call him, her fourth son) over for a family dinner

N.B: I feel like the humor isn't what most of you expected and I am so sorry, I swear I am funnier irl 😭 hope you guys like it... special thanks to @glai1023-blog and @flowerchild-96 for the idea of mama leclerc doting on Lando

For context

The brothers' reactions to the steamy stream

Social media reactions

YN had always been close to her mother, she always told her about her new hair ideas, how she wants to cook a new recipe and her crushes, so when YN started dating Lando Norris her mother was the first person to know (with the promise of not telling her brothers)

Pascale had met Lando quite a lot in the 9 months that the young couple's relationship had stayed secret from her brothers. To say Pascale adored the young Brit was an understatement.

Pascale Leclerc loved Lando Norris like her own son; she learned all his favorite foods, what are his preferred desserts and the meals he hadn't been able to taste before (so that she could make it for him)

With that being said, the Leclerc parent is always big on family. She had instilled in her childrens' head that even if you are busy, you must have a day each month for a family dinner and that all five members of the Leclerc family must be present.

Except for this month, six members were present at that dinner, and three of them were ready to kick the intruder out if it not had been for their mother hitting them on the back of their heads.

It had all started out normal- well as normal as it could be when just a week ago you had seen your sister making out with her boyfriend on live.

Pascale had been in the kitchen making dinner with the help of YN while the three male Leclercs were too traumatised by last week's events to face their sister. It's not that they didn't want to ask her questions, they really did, they wanted to interrogate her, but whenever they catch a glimpse of her they remember the phone screens showing her and her boyfriend.

Boyfriend. That was one person they would love to meet. Charles could probably know where Lando Norris is whenever he wanted, that was the perks of having the same circle of friends, team workers who were also friends and same bosses. Did he want to talk to him? No. Did he want to beat him? Yes.

The doorbell interrupted the brothers creative imagination of how they could kill the British driver. As Arthur was closest to the door he went up to see who it was, not expecting the one who they murdered 100 different ways in their haeds to be standing at the door with 2 bouquets of flowers, a box of chocolate and a box of what appeared to be a cake.

"Oh, umm, hi?"

Lando was about to piss his pants, he saw that expression change on Arthur's face, and he was the youngest of his girlfriend's brothers. With every second Arthur stared at him his heart rate increased with sweat filling his palms as his throat tightened up.

"Who is it Arthur?"

Shit, fuck. Lando knew that voice all too well, and he was not ready to have his head nailed to the front of the paddock for everyone to see.

"Oh dear, hello my son, Arthur move out of the way."

The gentle voice of Pascale Leclerc stopped any and all movements in the living room.

"SON!"

The three Leclercs exclaimed in sync, looking at the young brit with wide eyes and clenched jaws.

The boys' anger increased as they watched their mother fuss over the boy, thanking him for the flowers as she called their sister to place them in a vase, giving him a hug and kissing his cheeks.

"Oh lovely, you didn't have to bring anything. Is that your favorite dessert then?"

Lando was all too aware of the three pairs of eyes staring at him, and if looks could kill he'd be 18 feet under. Gulping, he gave Pascale an awkward smile, too scared to actually utter a word.

Noticing his trembling hands and terrified glances at her sons, Pascale glared at the young men "you three! Stop it!"

"But mum-"

"No! I don't want to hear a word out of any of you if it's not going to be nice! You should respect you sister's boyfriend and my guest!"

"It's a family dinner! You never invited any of our girlfriends to a family dinner before"

"Oh my god," now that's a familiar voice Lando loves hearing "stop being babies about it."

Moving closed, YN took the flowers from Lando's hands "ohhh, mum, he got you your favourite!"

"Thank you love." Giving him a peck on the lips, YN smiled at him, and upon hearing her brothers' groans and complains she gave him a wink before kissing him again.

■■♡■■

The three Leclerc brothers were like Hyenas, waiting for their mother to stop protecting their pray so they could have a word (with their fists.)

Sitting at the couch facing the open kitchen they watched as their mother dotted over the British driver, stretching her hand for him to taste the food on the spoon before giving her a wide smile

"You three look like Scar." YN teased as she took a seat besides Charles

"Mon ange," Charles started as he rotated in his seat making him face to face with his sister "please, why didn't you tell us?"

"YN, Lando Norris, really?" Arthur whined as he looked at his younger sister, waiting for an explanation of hers.

"You three are really insufferable," YN stated as she looked at them with a devilish smirk "if you guys are wondering why i didn't tell you, it's just cause I know you three will be earing my ear off about our relationship and yes Arthur, Lando Norris, he makes me happy and he kisses me oh so-"

"LALALALALALAAA" Arthur screamed at the top of his lungs, making his sister laugh while their mother scolded them for the noise

"No, but really," YN took a sip of water "he is really nice to me, he treats me really well and he is so respectful-"

"Oh yeah, making out on live is oh so respectful of him" Lorenzo rolled his eyes then glared at the young boy in the kitchen, getting head pats from their mother like a golden retriever.

"Oh god, don't remind me man" Charles groaned as the image he tried so hard to erase came back much more vibrant and clearer, as if the presence of Lando just solidified it in his brain.

"Okay listen," YN huffed as she crossed her arms "if you don't like him then okay, fine, I will end it before it goes any further, but it was an honest mistake on both of out parts. We're not into that kind of thing."

"God, will you stop doing that!"

"Do you want to tramatise us?"

"Oh god, I did not need to know anything about this."

Hearing her brothers whine and groan from her teasing brings YN the greatest of joys. Was she planning on actually breaking things off for her brothers? Hell no, they're not little princesses they can keep their emotions in check.

"Mon ange, are you really sure that you like him?"

"Yes!" YN insisted as she looked at him like he grew 2 heads "will you just please get to know him?"

Sighing Charles bit his tongue, not wanting to actually upset his sister with what he really wanted to say.

"Okay mon ange, I'll talk to him and I'll make sure everything is normal," Charles got up to make his way to his mother who was now in a matching apron with Lando as he listened to her every word, basking up the praises and head pats given to him "just please, if he hurts you or if you feel like you aren't his top priority don't stick around okay. You are worth so much more than a race driver."

"Aren't you one?"

"Exactly."

With that, Charles left his siblings heading off to his mother with a pout as he spotted her patting the Brit's cheek with a full smile

"God, he's so whipped for her." Arthur told his brother, shaking his head.

"Yeah well, I told him it'd bite him in the ass someday."

"Hey! I'm not that bad!"

"YN," Lorenzo looked at her with a blank expression "you take full advantage of it and you know it."

■■♡■■

It had been an hour and now the family of five and their guest are sitting at the dinner table, having their first bite of the homemade dinner.

"Oh, this tastes phenomenal Mrs Leclerc. I hadn't had that in a while"

"Oh dear, I'm so glad you like it!" Pascale cooed over the young boy, getting up to place more for him on his plate "YN told me it's one of your favourites."

"Thank you so much darling." Lando smiled at YN, feeling more at ease with the glares sent his way as Pascale Leclerc glared right back at her sons.

"Mum," Lorenzo started as he looked at the food in distaste "I don't eat that, you know."

"Well," the mother smiled at her son sarcastically, making sure to get her point across "if you don't like it, then don't eat."

"Oh, c'est brutal maman." Arthur murmured under his breath, looking at his oldest sibling in pity

("Oh, that's brutal mum")

"I said no French!" Pascale warned her youngest son before turning to her now favorite son "tell me Lando, do you like Vanilla cakes?"

"Not really no, but YN told me it's your favorite so I bought it from what I also believe to be your favorite dessert shop."

"Oh dear, you really are my favorite," four voices of a 'mum!' yelled in the dinning room which did not take any of Pascale's attention away from the British young man "you're going to make me swoon."

"Oh my god," YN whispered to her brothers "we lost her."

"Yeah well," Lorenzo grumbled at his sister "he is your boyfriend"

"I lost my mum to my boyfriend."

"Oh, he went out of his way to go to her favourite shop," Arthur stated "she's not letting him go anywhere."

"I think you lost both of them mon ange."

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{Taglist: @idaesrhy @masonspulisic}

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #f1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x leclerc!reader #lando norris x leclerc reader #charles leclerc sister #charles leclerc x sister!reader #leclerc!reader #arthur leclerc x sister reader #older brother arthur #lorenzo leclerc x sister reader #lorenzo leclerc #older brother leclerc #older brother charles #brother!charles leclerc

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adrienneleclerc · 3 months

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Ex-Girlfriend

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles’s ex girlfriend is somehow ALWAYS there

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: inspired by Ex-Girlfriend by Melissa KB. I believe since Charles Leclerc and Charlotte Sine still follow each other on Instagram, it’s perfect.

Y/N doesn’t consider herself to be the jealous type but there is just one little thing that Charles does that make her a little wary, and that’s being in contact with his ex. Now at first, she didn’t mind that Charles followed his ex on social media, he isn’t in her likes and viceversa, but it wasn’t until his ex started showing up everywhere they went.

It happened when Charles invited Y/N over to his mom’s house because she was hosting her birthday party. It was the first time she was going to meet Pascale so Y/N wore her best outfit that was appropriate for the occasion.

“Muñeco, i’m nervous, this is my first time meeting someone’s mom.” Y/N said, Charles turned her around so she could face him.

“My mom will love you, and she will love the dessert you brought.” Charles said.

“Yeah, I figured alfajores would be good, who doesn’t like caramel?” Y/N said, Charles giggled before knocking on the door. The door opened to reveal his mother.

“Oh Charles, you made it!” Pascale said, hugging Charles and kissing him on the cheek,

“Hi maman, this is Y/N.” Charles said.

“Oh Y/N, I have heard so much about you, let’s bring this to the kitchen.” Pascale said, holding Y/N’s hand to bring her inside and Y/N followed her into the kitchen. “So there is plenty of food but we won’t eat until later.”

“My family does the same thing.” Y/N commented.

“Charles, dear, introduce Y/N to the guests, get her comfortable.” Pascale said,

“Yes maman, lets go, Mon coeur.” Charles said, guiding Y/N with his hand on her back. Y/N was meeting everyone, and it was all going great until..

“Charles! It’s so good to see you.” A pretty, thin, brunette said, hugging Charles. “Who’s this?”

“It’s good to see you too, Charlotte. This is Y/N, my girlfriend.” Charles said, moving his hand so now his arm was around Y/N

“It’s nice to meet you.” Y/N said, shaking Charlotte’s hand.

“You too, you’re so pretty.” Charlotte said.

“Thank you…so how do you and Charles know each other?” Y/N asked and Charles scratched the back of his head.

“Oh we dated for 3 years.” Charlotte said and Y/N’s eyes widened in shock and she turned to Charles and then back at Charlotte. “Well, have fun, you two look adorable together, it was nice meeting you.” Charlotte said before kissing Y/N on the cheek and she went off to mingle. Y/N turned to Charles, with her arms crossed in front of her.

“Your ex was invited to your mom’s birthday party? You still talk to your ex?” Y/N asked.

“No, I don’t talk to her, her parents were friends with mine, and it looks like our mom’s still keep in touch.” Charles said,

“But did you hear her? ‘You two look adorable together’, like how condescending could a girl be?” Y/N said. Charles laughed a little.

“But mon ange, you are adorable, that nose scrunch you do is adorable.” Charles said, cupping Y/N’s face to kiss her nose and Y/N did the nose scrunch. “You see? Adorable! Now come on, I think you deserve some food after seeing Cha.” Charles said, Y/N stared at him with an eyebrow raised. “Charlotte, I mean Charlotte.”

“Okay let’s go, I want alfajores.” Y/N said and Charles lead her into the kitchen for food.

The couple saw Charlotte other times at the mall, the grocery store, movie theater, ice cream shop, basically everywhere they went. However the last straw when Charles and Y/N were out for lunch.

“We should get dessert before we leave.” Charles said

“Well if you’re offering, I kinda want the chocolate cheesecake.” Y/N said.

“I want the tiramisu.” Charles said.

“We always got tiramisu after lunch, glad to see that didn’t change.” Charlotte said, appearing behind Y/N, she turned to face Charlotte.

“Charlotte, so great to see you.” Y/N faces Charles mouthing the words “Why is she here?” Charles shrugged. “What are you doing here, Charlotte?”

“Oh I just wanted to get a quick lunch, I’ll leave you two to it.” Charlotte said.

“Why don’t you join us?” Charles asked and Y/N kicked his shin under the table. “Merde, Y/N.” Charles said, soothing his shin.

“Are you sure you don’t mind? I could get another table.” Charlotte said.

“You’re not sitting by yourself, pull up a chair,” Charles insisted, Charlotte pulled up a chair and sat in between Charles and Y/N, leaning closer to Charles, what a surprise.

“So, dessert?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah, I’ll order for us.” Charles said, as he got the waiter’s attention and ordered dessert, letting Charlotte order her food. When Charles’s and Y/N’s dessert came, Charlotte was talking about her relationship with Charles.

“Charles actually let me drive his race car one time, it was so exciting.” Charlotte reminisces. “Has he taken You out in his F1 car yet?”

“I haven’t.” Y/N responded curtly, taking another forkful of chocolate cheesecake, finishing her dessert, and stared at Charles.

“Well I’m sure he’ll take you out someday, he would take me out on his yacht, we’d go scuba diving, hiking, shopping, we had some fun times.” Charlotte said, trying to hold Charles’s hand but he moved his hand away.

“Charlotte, it was so good seeing you, I’ll ask for the check, and pay for your lunch, but Y/N and I have to head out.” Charles said, getting up from the table, pulling Y/N’s chair out so she could get up as well.

“Oh okay, I’ll see you later then.” Charlotte said. Y/N waited for Charles to pay before they left the restaurant. Once they were in the car, charles turned on the radio.

“Okay, let it out.” Charles said and Y/N screamed.

“Like why was she here? I get that Monaco is small but COME ON! It’s not natural to bump into your exes this much. Also the whole ‘i drove his race car, did you drive his race car?’ Like she was fucking comparing relationships, what the hell was that about?” Y/N ranted.

“I know, Mon ange, I know.” Charles said.

“And you! You invited her to sit with us! You didn’t say anything when she talked about the past! You just sat there, eating your tiramisu without a care in the world.” Y/N said.

“I couldn’t tell her anything, Y/N, that would have been rude.” Charles said.

“There is nothing rude about setting boundaries with your ex, Charles.” Y/N said.

When they made it to Charles apartment, Y/N noticed something on the floor that she hasn’t noticed before. A gold bracelet with a ‘C’ charm, Charles only wears silver jewelry and he always has those APM Monaco bracelets so it’s not his, and it is most certainly not hers.

“Muñeco, who’s bracelet is this?” Y/N asked, holding up the bracelet she found on the floor. Charles turned around to look at it.

“Putain, it’s Charlotte’s.” Charles admitted,

“Charlotte’s? You guys broke up a year ago! How is this still here?” Y/N asked.

“I guess she forgot it here and never realized it was missing.” Charles said.

“Okay, we clearly need to have a conversation. Listen, I’m not the jealous type, I’m not too fond of the emotion, but there needs to be boundaries. You can’t just invite her to sit with us whenever she is in the same place as we are. That’s making her believe that you two might have a chance in the future, it just can’t happen again, Charles.” Y/N said,

“But you knew i had exes before we started dating, I don’t understand why you’re acting this way towards Charlotte, we ended on good terms.” Charles said.

“Well i didn’t think I would bump into her so often, I never bumped into Giada, why the hell am I bumping into Charlotte? But I’m serious, Charles, boundaries.” Y/N said.

So the next day, Charles messaged Charlotte on Instagram to return her bracelet, meeting up at the same restaurant.

“Glad you can meet me here,” Charles said, sitting at Charlotte’s table,

“I was a little surprised you DM’d me, to be honest. So what’s up?” Charlotte asked,

“Well I’m here to return your bracelet.” Charles said, showing her the gold bracelet.

“Is that all? Surely you didn’t text me just to return a bracelet a completely forgot about.” Charlotte said.

“There’s more…” Charles said.

“I knew it! You broke up with Y/N didn’t you?” Charlotte asked.

“What? No! Charlotte, there needs to be boundaries between us. You are my ex, it’s okay that we say ‘hi’ when we see each other but that’s it. Also, you can’t come to my mom’s house whenever my mom invites your mom, it’s weird. I blame myself for leading you on yesterday, I guess, and I am sorry about that, but it makes Y/N uncomfortable so if you see me with her out and about in Monaco, don’t say anything.” Charles said.

“Um yeah, yeah, that’s fine, I understand.” Charlotte said.

“Good, bye.” Charles said and he left without a second glance. Once he was in his car, he unfollowed Charlotte and removed her as a follower as well on Instagram. He made it to his apartment and found Y/N baking.

“Hey, I woke up and you were gone, where did you go?” Y/N asked, placing some dough in the oil.

“Clearing something up with an old friend. What are you making? I thought there weren’t any orders for today.” Charles said

“There isn’t, I just really wanted picarones. I would ask if you wanted one but Andrea would kill me.” Y/N said. Charles hugged her from behind and kissed her cheek.

“I love you.” Charles said,

“I love you too.” Y/N said. “Would you help me made the picarones? You can roll the dough and make the shape, I’ll just fry them.”

“I Can do that.” Charles said.

The next time Charles saw Charlotte was when him and Y/N were grocery shopping. And keeping true to her promise, Charlotte didn’t say hi to them, she knew it was for the best though.

“Hey Muñeco, think I need more flour or do we have enough?” Y/N asked. Charles looked at their cart.

“We have more than enough, Mon coeur, let’s go pay.” Charles said.

The End

Hope y’all liked it!

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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saintslewis · 2 months

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❝ 𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐌 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 ❞

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x princess of zamunda!reader

summary: after many years, your father has left you to sort your love life out before you have to rule the kingdom. what you didn’t expect was to find love within your father’s favourite sport.

warnings: outfit links, smau, just read 🤭 (sorry for any typos!)

saint’s team radio 🎀: listen, i love ‘coming to america’ just as much as lewis and this being a 3 am thought made me too excited to write it. enjoy it, love ya! 🫵🏽💗

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @httpsserene @exotic-iris13 @motheroffae @purplelewlew @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @non-stop-imagines @hopefulromantic1 @vile-harlot @emjayewrites @yeea-nah @henneseyhoe @saturnville @greedyjudge2

pls like, comment and reblog!

fc: nomzamo mbatha

palaceofzamunda

liked by f1, mercedesamgf1 and 574,356 others

palaceofzamunda Her Majesty Princess Y/n will safely depart from Kigali, Rwanda to Montreal, Canada with the rest of the Royal Family for a motorsport event per the King’s request. We wish them safe travels!

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f1 very excited to host the royal family this weekend!

user i hope they will treat our glorious family well as the royalty they are

user princess y/n is so gorgeous

user so glad she gets to be our next queen

user sky sports and f1 have announced their arrival and have hyped it up so much…there’s levels to this kinda thing

user craziest thing is that they never say anything about prince harry or the prince of monaco whenever they’re there 😭

user i wonder which team the king supports

user fun fact our king loves ferrari but his fav drivers are 1644 and ofc other older drivers as well

user he’s just like the rest of us fr 😝

mercedesamgf1 extremely honoured to be hosting the Royal Family of Zamunda in our garage!

user i would risk it all for Princess Y/n

user it would be iconic if Princess Y/n gets together with a driver

user girl wdym, isn’t she married?

user no she isn’t, homegirl is extremely dedicated to her work as a humanitarian and as a country, we’d be surprised if she was romantically involved with anyone 😭

user what a woman

“Father, were the rose bearers necessary for the trip?” You huffed out, watching as rose petals were being tossed out on the tarmac before your father stepped out on the jet’s stairs.

“You know it is tradition, my child. Now, have you gathered everything before we leave this plane?” Your dad answered, waiting for you, your mother, and your sisters to exit the plane after him.

Holding onto your carry-on, the Canadian air breezed past you as you descended from the plane’s steps and gave the media a polite wave, wanting to get to the comfort of the hotel already. Given the warmest welcome from the airport staff, you and your family safely made your way to the official cars and drove to the Four Seasons.

Upon arrival, another warm welcome was given along with a bunch of staff issued to you at your every call and you did not want to say no as they kindly offered.

Laying down on the incredibly soft bed, you appreciated the aesthetics of your suite and took photos that you knew you couldn’t share with the public due to safety reasons so that just ruined the mood so to bring it up again, you called your royal advisor/childhood friend just to update her on your journey.

“And let me guess, the media was all over you guys.” Ama chuckled through the phone. “When aren’t they ever. A lot of them were from Baba’s thing we’re going to.” You said, rolling your eyes as you recalled the flashing lights from your landing.

“Oh, the formula thing. You’ll be fine, Y/n, just remember to interact with other human beings and don’t bring up work.” Ama spoke, squinting her eyes at you. “Don’t you have faith in me? I’ll be as chilled as I can be.” You said.

“Y/n my dear, should I remind you how you ran away from that one rapper because he wanted to take you out on a date?” She laughed in between her sentences and you wanted to scream in embarrassment. “Ama please, let’s not speak on that, it was enough to scar me for days.”

Holding her hands up, Ama spoke again. “Okay okay, I’m sorry. Look Y/n, I have to go now and I promise i won’t speak on it again.” She laughed once again and you just shook your head at her.

“Bye Ama, say hi to everyone back home for me.” You sighed out.

“Byeee! Don’t forget, listen to sexyy red before you go. She’ll give you confidence.” Ama winked then dropped the call.

Feeling your hunger slowly come back, you ultimately decided to drag your two younger sisters to get dinner with you. You knew the next day was going to be incredibly long so you wanted to do everything early to prepare yourself.

You made no effort to research a single thing about the sport that you were going to watch.

Your father had sent staff to hand deliver your passes to each of you, there were only two and had specified that it was from Mercedes. Luckily, they went very well with your outfit choice for qualifying that day.

As for your journey to the track, a clearly nervous Mercedes employee was assigned to you along with all the other members of your family having their own guide. Her first thought was to compliment you and you couldn’t have thanked her enough, with you starting to like the experience.

Sitting in the car was not awkward at all, you had asked several questions about the sport and what exactly was happening so that you would not be confused in the garage. A tour would be put in place before qualifying for your family then you’ll get to meet the drivers however most of the fun stuff will happen on Sunday.

“Tell me, is my skirt too short? I made a bold move with this outfit today.” You asked, the younger girl already shaking her head in disagreement.

“It’s a very cute outfit, Your Majesty. It’s quite unsuspecting unless you’re going to wear a sash.” Maddy joked. “Oh no, we stopped that practice three years ago. Another thing, you don’t have to call me that. Y/n is just fine.” You smiled and you could see her sigh out of relief.

The conversation had went on until you arrived to the paddock gates and quite the crowd had gathered and obviously they had to be for the drivers and other important f1 personnel. Maddy had informed you that you and your family would enter through a much more private entrance to avoid crowds.

As soon as the door was opened, you could hear the loud atmosphere of the track. From fans to the cars, it was buzzing and that had you looking forward to the rest of your trip. Following close behind, you could spot your parents and sisters walking slightly ahead of you and they were admiring the beauty of the scenes behind the sport.

However, the weather did not accommodate your outfit all with goosebumps rising on your skin so quickly. “We’ve got some hoodies in the hospitality.” Maddy reassured with a smile.

After a warm welcome upon arriving at the hospitality and the overly excited team principal had showed you around, you finally received the hoodie and completely unaware of the ‘44’ etched into the material but at least you were now warm.

Your father was at his happiest, over-explaining everything to your curious sisters and your mom was in deep conversations with the barista who was from Zamunda. The paddock club was lively with different people wearing colourful merchandise of their favourite teams and only then did you realize you hadn't seen any driver or their face even though they were planted everywhere.

Before you could pull out your phone to research, Khosi, the youngest, ran up to you whilst laughing. "I made a joke to Baba that you'd find someone here and the face he made was priceless." She wheezed out, plopping down on the couch you were sitting on and lightly smiled at her antics.

Looking over at your father, he couldn’t be more excited, his smile growing larger and larger as the Merc personnel continued speaking. “Toto will be here soon with the drivers and a few photographers from Mercedes. We’ll then head to the garage and pit lane for a tour.”

Without a moment to spare, several people entered the space including photographers, the very eager team principal and what you would assume were the drivers. The taller one walked in with his hands clasped together with a large smile on his face, his style could be described as preppy.

The next driver, however, his presence could be felt with just a step in the doorway. The first thing you noticed about him was his confidence followed by his outfit, a black tracksuit with simple red lines around specific areas. After being mesmerised by each detail about him, you got to his eyes which locked in with yours.

A shiver ran down your spine as the both of you maintained eye contact with each other, a slight smile on his face whilst chewing on some gum and you truly could’ve melted on the spot. “George, Lewis. Meet the royal family of Zamunda. King Akeem and his family have been long time followers of Formula One and we’ve had the honour of hosting them in our team.” Toto expressed, quite literally unable to stand still.

Introductions began and butterflies were flying around your stomach the closer you got to him. You could tell that he was your father’s favourite driver as he spoke for quite a while and even made a few jokes but you couldn’t hear anything, not when the man in the designer tracksuit was staring you down.

“Your Majesty, i’m Lewis. It’s lovely to meet you.” He finally introduced himself to you as you were the last of your family to greet everyone. You held out your hand to him and he gladly accepted it and you prayed that he wouldn’t feel the warmth of your palms. “Likewise,” You cleared your throat. “Y/n is just fine.”

The sound of your name falling from his lips felt like heaven, pronouncing it correctly on the first try just added to the attraction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/n.” He spoke lowly and you could barely keep yourself together in your head. You wanted to find more words to say to him, anything, but your chance fell short as the eager team principal pulled you out of your head to introduce the next driver to you.

The next few minutes were brutal. Your family stood opposite the faces of the team and you could feel his eyes glued to you, unmoving.

In typical Zamundan fashion, it’s in your father’s blood to brag about how great his country is and all its beauty. “And onto my eldest daughter, she’s quite the superstar. All her humanitarian work has brought eyes onto Zamunda. Y/n, aren’t you working on the STEM school project? She’s also a professor!” The King spoke with pride in his voice, making you want to hide in a corner.

A humble but nervous chuckle left your lips. “It was just a week of me teaching lectures, Baba.” Your words made the whole room laugh but his smile was the brightest. “But yes, the STEM project is still in its early days but a lot of students are interested which makes me happy.” You concluded with a small smile.

Lewis looked impressed. Wait. Since when did you care what anyone thought of your hard work? Especially a man that you knew would be a major distraction to the single lifestyle you’ve lived all these years. You had much to focus on and becoming Queen of Zamunda was at the top of your list.

But why not let loose a little? ‘Live a little’ as your sisters often say whenever you come back home exhausted.

“Is that so? Lewis here has his own foundation for kids in STEM, specifically for motorsport!” The tall team principal smiled and it took everything in you to look into the man’s eyes as you felt them on you.

“I could tell you more about it if you’d like.” Lewis spoke in a calm, low voice. You wanted to walk closer so that you could hear his words travel through you, wanting to listen to every word he had to say to you, every action he wanted to do to y-

Taking a breath and putting a soft smile on your face, you nodded. “I’d like that, thank you.” Talks of hot laps and tours started flying around but you couldn’t hear a word that was said. What was wrong with you? All this man had done was look into your eyes and you felt like you could melt. Lewis clearly used this gentlemanly charm to persuade everyone around him, including your father.

Watching him converse with your family had unleashed a new swarm of butterflies in your stomach, something you hadn’t truly felt in a long time. You had been with one or two people casually but none had ever satisfied you, only caring about your status as Princess. However, you had a gut feeling about something but you didn’t want to dwell on it yet.

“Shall we go for the tour now?” Toto’s voice boomed around the room with a clap of his hands.

Feeling a nudge on your arm, you turn to look at your mom as your attention was on the screens around the garage. “Are you going to bring him to Zamunda?” Your mother teased with a smile. Your eyebrows furrowed before you realised who she was referring to.

“Mother, I’d rather not talk about that now. Let’s just enjoy where we are now.” You put your hand on your mom’s then turned to look at the screen.

“He’d make a lovely prince. It’s okay to separate yourself from work, you know? I want you to live a little, my angel.” She continued, enveloping both her hands around yours.

You opened your mouth to speak but she beat you to it. “Don’t worry about your father. He’d be ecstatic if you brought this one home. You still have a lot of time left, Y/n.”

Knowing your mother was right, you breathed in and refocused your attention to qualifying. Lewis seemed to be doing well, even his driving looked attractive to you. Okay, calm it down girl.

After quali, the Mercedes hospitality was buzzing even though the skies were ever gray. Munching on a piece of cake, you offered a smile to those who would walk past and gawk at you. It was evident that F1 had made quite the big deal about your family merely attending a race weekend but you never expected this attention much on you.

A camera crew stayed outside and continuously took pictures of you sitting by your lonesome and you hoped for something to distract you from the feeling of being watched. Surprisingly, the crew began walking away after looking behind you for a split second and the cologne that suddenly surrounded you made it very clear who did it.

“Sorry if they were bothering you, your highness.” Lewis spoke, eventually standing in front of you yet not taking a seat across. Chuckling a bit, you looked up at him. “I thought we spoke about the title, Lewis.”

“Yes we did but I can’t let the media know you like that, only I’ve received the honour.” He smiled and there were the butterflies again. “If you’d like to sit down, you may.” You offered with the sweetest smile. Taking your offer, he never took his eyes off you.

It was quiet as he observed you. “What?” Looking like a deer in headlights, you placed your spoon down. “You’re a powerhouse. I’ve seen you represent your country and how much love you have for it. It’s admirable.”

You were taken aback. You hadn’t received such compliments from someone you were interested in. “Well, now I feel terrible because I’ve got no clue about your sport.” You spoke, covering your mouth with your floating hand.

“That’s okay, Princess.” All he did was say those words and you felt like a puddle all over again. “You’re doing that thing with your eyes again.” You pointed out, wondering if he could see right through your demeanour.

“What thing are my eyes doing, Y/n?”

“…I’d rather not say it in public.”

Lewis’ smirk widened as you said that. He thought it would be a challenge to try make a move on you as you seemed reserved unlike the rest of your family. “Why not? I’m quite curious to hear your thoughts.” He smiled, adjusting his arms to rest on the table.

“Not in your team’s hospitality suite.” You quickly replied, your eyes darting everywhere but him.

“Y/n.” Lewis just said your name and just like that, your thoughts became improper. Locking eyes with him, you knew that he was teasing you, something that you were never able to experience others.

“We can speak about our foundations over dinner!” You quickly suggested, barely registering what just came out of your mouth. “Dinner sounds perfect however that was supposed to be my line.” He joked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

Everything felt chaotic. You had returned to the hotel from the race which was extremely exhilarating and he had gotten a relatively high position which made you proud.

As you were leaving your seat in the garage a few hours ago, Lewis had approached you knowing very well that the cameras were watching the exchange between the two of you. “I forgot to mention how gorgeous you looked earlier.” He said as he was standing relatively close to you.

“Lewis! You can’t say that, the cameras are watching.” You whisper yelled, looking at the cameras pointed at the scene before them. All he did was laugh and turn on his heel before turning his head to you. “I’ll see you at 7 pm , your highness.” He winked and just like that, he was gone.

And that whole memory ran through your mind as you paced up and down your hotel room. You were all ready for the dinner but you were feeling something…different. It was normal for you to have dinners but this one had a certain tension hanging over it. You smoothed out your dress with your hands as you paced.

Another thing that drove you crazy was that you had no clue of what exactly was happening. You always knew the time, setting and guests of everything you did but now you were completely out of the loop but you had trust in him, as insane as it sounds.

The knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts and you took a breath before turning the doorknob to reveal Lewis standing there with a bouquet of flowers you couldn’t recognise but your heart grew at the sight of them. Your eyes glided over him as you looked at his outfit, a white cardigan with black slacks and designer chunky shoes. He smiled and you almost fell to your knees just looking at him more relaxed and sexy.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Y/n.” He complimented, his own eyes moving all over your body. He couldn’t help but admire your beauty as you stood before him. You were the embodiment of a princess and you never failed to exude such energy as you did.

“Uh, would you like to come in? I just have to get my heels.” You spoke as you opened the door a little wider. The room smelt of a scent he couldn’t quite grasp but he definitely labelled it as an aphrodisiac because Lewis began feeling his hands getting hot. He made his way to the couch right by the large window as you closed the door.

You stood in the middle of the room with your fingers pinching your lip in nervousness. The tension could be cut with a knife with the way he was watching you. “Um so, how’d you plan this?” You asked, finally looking at Lewis but you noticed his eyes were slightly lower.

“Your sisters are quite the wingwomen.” He spoke, adjusting his body to sit comfortably.

“Right, right……”

A beat passed before he leaned forward. “Princess, is everything okay?”

“Do you think we could skip dinner? I never usually do this but I don’t think I can go another moment.” You blurted out, too afraid to see his reaction to your raunchy suggestion.

Another moment of silence passed and you felt defeated. You felt like you’d gone on too strong and that’s not what you envisioned at all.

“Y/n.” He called and you picked your head up to look up.

“C’mere.”

saint’s notes: you thought I was going to give you smut???? no 🤭 hope you enjoyed though! 🫶🏽

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