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ohproserpine · 4 months

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iii. deer dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love, murder

The next night, Alastor returned in unusually high spirits. He practically dragged you onto the dance floor, twirling you around in dizzying circles for eight whole rounds. If you hadn't asked him to stop, you might have ended up collapsing from sheer exhaustion.

As it was a Saturday night and you weren't scheduled to perform, the trio of you settled in at the bar, enjoying drinks and each other's company as the night wore on.

"Come on, doll! Bottoms up!" Mimzy cheered, her laughter bubbling with infectious energy. The blonde pressed a crystal-clear glass against your lips, tilting it up and urging you to indulge further. The cool liquid burned as it slid down your throat, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. The room turned into a swirling blend of jazz melodies, clinking glasses, and loud, loud chatter.

After a few seconds, unable to endure the relentless flow of alcohol, you finally pushed her hand away with a sputter and a cough. The taste of the giggle water lingered on your lips as you slumped against Alastor's chest, your burning cheeks squished against the fabric of his coat.

"Had a bit too much, have we?" he smirked. The radio host smoothly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, the fine fabric of his suit brushing against your skin as he held you upright against him. You nestled against Alastor, swaying slightly to the music, the alcohol-induced haze casting a dreamy glow over your vision. "My, it looks as though the night's got its claws in you, cher."

"Not yet it hasn't," you grinned, your words slurring slightly as you shifted against him, a hand outstretched to grab your drink off the counter.

"Ah ah ah," Alastor chuckled as he took your glass from you, setting it aside with a careful motion. "Let's not push our luck, shall we?"

"Aw, don't be such a wet blanket!" Mimzy snorted, her curls bouncing as she plopped onto the seat beside you. "She's just having a good time! Ain't that right, doll?"

"Mhm!" you nodded your head eagerly before stopping, the ceaseless nodding causing a dull ache in your head.

"There's a good time, and then there's getting plastered. I'd hate to see the star of the show here end up on the floor. Ha ha!" Alastor boomed out with a laugh, catching you off guard. You would have stumbled off the seat if it weren't for his swift reflexes, his gloved hand wrapping around your arm to pull you back up.

"Such a klutz," Alastor tutted with a smirk as he steadied you. "See? What ever would happen to my favorite showgirl if I don't keep a watchful eye?"

"Oh, please!" Mimzy snorted as she slid another cool glass of giggle water in front of you, leaving a glistening trail of water from the condensation. "She's handled worse than this. We're just getting started!”

"Mimzy, my dear, it seems my words didn't quite get into that thick skull of yours," Alastor enunciated with a tight-lipped smile. "Allow me to say it in much more simpler terms; she has had enough."

"Oh, come on—"

"Do you want all your patrons to witness yet another fiasco in this establishment?"Alastor smiled as he bore his gaze into the blonde's doe eyes. "Because it does sure seem like a night can't pass here without a fuckup!"

Mimzy's shoulders raised in surprise. She stayed silent for a while before forcing out a response through gritted teeth. "No."

Alastor leaned in, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, voice devoid of his usual eccentricity. "Then dry up. Understood?"

"Understood," Mimzy rolled her eyes, tucking her chin to her chest as she stared at her feet.

"Lovely." Alastor hummed before straightening himself. And just like that, the tension dissipated, replaced by an air of nonchalance.

"Well! This has been a delightful night, but I do believe it's time to escort this lovely lady home, don't you think?" Alastor's tone shifted back to its usual charm, as nothing had happened. He wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging your ditzy self out of the bar stool as he began to guide you out of the speakeasy.

"Best of luck, chums!"

"Can you believe it? That lousy, two-timing rat! You introduce him to the girl of his dreams, and what does he do? He high-tails it outta here with her, leaving us all high and dry!" Mimzy ranted, shaking her fist in frustration before pouring herself another drink. "Not a word for a whole week! I had to call in Nitwit Nancy to cover her Friday shifts! And you know that broad sounds like a screeching cat on a hot tin roof."

Beside her, Angel Dust was flabbergasted, his jaw hanging open with the champagne glass dangling loosely from his hands, its contents long spilled onto the counter, creating a shimmering puddle on the bar. Husk grumbled as he wiped the counter clean with a worn-out rag, eyes flickering between Mimzy and Angel.

The spider was staring at Mimzy as if the blonde had just sprouted a third tit, his eyes wide and struggling to process everything he had just been told.

“Why is you gawkin'?!” Mimzy leaned away from Angel, unsettled by the look on his face. “Aww. Is it 'cuz I'm adorable?”

"Fuckin' hell, toots," the spider coughed out a laugh. "I'm having difficulty understanding all that you just spat at me, blondie. What happened to you ‘keeping a secret’?"

Mimzy's body tensed, a sudden realization flashing across her face as she belatedly registered the fact that she had been running her mouth.

Shaking her head, she pulled herself back together with a huff. "Whatever, alright?! I doubt—"

Suddenly, a loud bang at the door echoed through the room, causing the two demons to startle in their seats. Mimzy's head snapped towards the source of the noise so swiftly she nearly gave herself whiplash. In growing horror, she watched as the hinges of the hotel's entrance door began to creak, the walls around them starting to crack and shed plaster.

"Mimzy! We know you're in there! You lousy bitch!"

"Oh, shit," she winced sinking into her seat.

"What the fuck—" Husk cursed, his words drowned out by the sudden explosion that violently rattled the lower windows. Shards of glass rained down onto the floor as dust and debris filled the air, choking their senses. Husk whipped his head around to glare at Mimzy when she vaulted over the bar counter, seeking refuge behind the sturdy wood.

"I fucking knew it. What shit have you brought to us this time?" Husk demanded, his grip tightening on her dress as he lifted her up. Another explosion echoed through the building, the shockwaves pulsing through the floor causing Husk to stumble and drop her.

With a pained grunt, the blonde crashed to the floor, her bruised front absorbing the brunt of the impact. As she lifted her head, she met Husk's glare.

"Ahah... Well," Mimzy sheepishly smiled, her eyes darting nervously as she cowered on the floor. The banging on the door grew louder and more aggressive, echoing through the hotel lobby like a menacing drumbeat.

Angel Dust stood frozen by one of the living room walls, his hands pressed against it to anchor himself. Suddenly, he noticed the television set flickering with an eerie glow, emitting dissonant static noises that seemed to crawl under his fur. The crackling sound took on an unsettling pitch, and an odd pink electricity surged through the screen, casting a sickly hue across the room. "What the fuck...?!"

In that moment, Vaggie and Charlie stormed onto the scene, their eyes widening in disbelief as they absorbed the chaotic sight. The hotel lobby, once orderly and serene, now lay in ruins—furniture overturned, glass shattered, and the wallpaper charred.

"What's happening?!" Vaggie exclaimed, swiftly drawing her spear and slicing a chunk of concrete in half before it could reach her. The broken pieces ricocheted off the walls, adding to the destruction.

"We are under sssiege!" Sir Pentious screamed as he scrambled to get Nifty into his arms, slithering behind the toppled-over couch for cover. The banging on the door intensified, accompanied by muffled threats and angry shouts from outside. "It'sss all that harlot'sss fault!

"Harlot?" Vaggie questioned, her fiery gaze sweeping the room for a familiar mop of blonde hair. Upon spotting Mimzy, her eyes narrowed as her lips curled into a snarl. "Explain."

"I may or may not be in trouble with an overlord! Well, maybe a couple of 'em," Mimzy rushed out, her words tumbling over each other in a nervous babble. "And I may or may not have 'borrowed' one of their top showgirls. And, well, got that girl killed… but she had it coming!"

Vaggie's patience waned with each new sentence Mimzy added, and a low groan escaped her lips.

"Leave this to me," she hissed, red-hot fury flashing in her eyes as she tightened her grip on her spear. "Everyone, get somewhere safe."

"I'm afraid that will not be necessary, my dear."

A sudden crackling static, skin to the ominous hum of a radio, seeped through the room as Alastor emerged from the shadowed corners. The demon's grin twisted unnaturally, stretching up to his glowing crimson eyes, which emitted an eerie, hollow glow. Tendrils of inky shadow began to writhe and sprout from Alastor's back, emitting sickening cracking noises.

In the blink of an eye, he dashed outside, engaging in his unholy work, swiftly and effortlessly ridding the area of its assailants. The air outside carried echoes of screams and the sharp, metallic scent of blood.

Before everyone could fully comprehend the whirlwind of events that had just transpired, the screaming ceased. Shortly after, Alastor returned to his usual demeanor. Nonchalantly stepping back into the damaged lounge, he dusted off his suit, traces of blood marking his path on the floors.

"Alastor! Babyface! Good show!" Mimzy began clapping, seemingly unfazed by the gorey scene as she stepped out of her hiding spot. "Bravo! bravo!"

Upon hearing Mimzy's voice, Alastor's head fully twisted around with a loud, bone-chilling crack accompanying the movement. The radio demon moved toward her, his towering 7-foot form eclipsing her much smaller figure. He bared his sharp teeth in a menacing smile as his antlers began to grow in length, curling and twisting over his head—a display nothing short of terrifying.

"You—"

"Alastor~" Charlie's voice quivered with forced cheerfulness, her hands wringing together anxiously. "Haha! Let's, uh, try to keep our cool here, okay? We really don't need any more messes, do we? Haha!"

The princess's attempt at forced cheerfulness made her look desperate, her manic expression surfacing as her pupils visibly shrank, darting around the room like startled prey.

Alastor closed his eyes, the tension in his form visible as he took a moment to regain composure. Gradually, his antlers reverted to their usual size. With an eerie calm settling over him, he reopened his eyes, though the strain was evident in his smile. "My apologies, chum. I'll be out of your hair in a bit."

He spared Charlie one more glance, his gaze piercing, before redirecting his attention to Mimzy. The intensity in his stare bore into her as he spoke, his voice low and measured. "Since you are so eager to catch up, why don't we have a talk? In private."

With that, the radio demon snapped his fingers, transporting both of them out of the lounge.

"Dumb bitch," Husk grumbled under his breath, covering his eyes with his paws and slamming his head onto the bar counter. "We're all fucked once he finds out."

"Find out what?" Walking up to him, Angel Dust shot Husk a confused look. The spider delicately brushed away the dust that clung to his grey fur, picking out the bigger pieces of cement and plaster. "I thought they were friends?"

Husk raised his head off the counter, mismatched eyes meeting Angel's own. "Not anymore."

Mimzy slowly opened her eyes, greeted by the surreal sight of a blood-red room surrounding her. It housed a radio station complete with an array of dials and a microphone, the very tools she knew Alastor utilized for his broadcasts.

'His broadcasting station?' she noted, curiously looking about the room.

Suddenly, Alastor's firm grip closed around her shoulder, causing her to whirl around with disorienting speed. His bloodied claws moved to cradle both of her rosy cheeks, their sharp edges looming dangerously close to breaking skin while he squeezed her face as though dealing with a disobedient child.

"I thought I made it very clear that you were to step nowhere near me," Alastor forced her to stare up at him. Despite the discomfort caused by Alastor's claws digging in, Mimzy maintained her confident demeanor and glared straight back up at him. "Did I not, dearest?"

"Oh, I just ran into a spot of trouble, and I thought, who better to lend a helping hand than you?" Mimzy rolled her eyes as she pulled herself away from his grasp, massaging the tender flesh of her cheeks. "You always love helping lil ole me."

"Enough. What is it you want?" Alastor snapped. "Should you persist in wasting more of my precious time, I will relish tearing you apart limb from limb, and the symphony of your sweet screams will be a broadcast for all of Hell to revel in."

Mimzy, unfazed, leaned in with a sly grin, her fingers playfully tracing the lapel of Alastor's coat. "Alright, tall, dark, and creepy. I know you aren't going to do shit."

"After all," she batted her lashes at him, "Hurting me would be hurting her, now wouldn't it?"

The blonde pressed her finger into his chest, poking him repeatedly. "That was in the contract~ You. Heartless. Son. Of. A. Bitch."

A low, guttural chuckle rumbled in the depths of Alastor's throat. "Oh, sweetheart," he drawled, catching her finger mid-poke. "You seem to be overlooking the delicate nature of contracts. It might be wise for you to tread more carefully, relying on such flimsy assurances."

"Flimsy?!" Mimzy scowled. "I got your girl on a leash!"

"Lets make this very clear," Alastor's voice deepened into a growl, eyes flashing red in warning. "This contract doesn't grant you a carte blanche to play games with my patience. If not for her plea to spare you, your fate would have been sealed by now."

As Alastor's grip moved to tighten around her throat, Mimzy's eyes nervously tracked the sharp edge of his claws, her breath catching in her throat.

"W-Whatevah! A contract is a contract," she retorted. Mimzy roughly pulled away from him, scrambling to gain the upper hand again. "Even if there ain't a soul exchange, it's still binding!"

"Yes, indeed! I am well aware of contractual obligations, dear," Alastor grinned, his cane tightening in his grip, claws leaving indents on the dark steel. Bending down to meet her gaze, he continued, "But you seem to have forgotten that time's almost up! The expiration for your contract is nearing. And when that happens, I do intend to reclaim what is rightfully mine – my wife. At that point, you will find yourself plunged into an abyssal world of unrelenting agony."

"Abyss, schmabyss. I've dealt with worse," Mimzy scoffed, her hand waving dismissively. "Now look, I got what I wanted outta you, and I don't have to take this."

With that, the blonde turned with a dramatic flair, her heels clicking against the floor as she stomped towards the door. She adjusted her hair and straightened her dress, a smug smirk dancing on her lips.

"Have fun with your little princess and your little project," she quipped.

Over her shoulder, she shot Alastor one last look, a sly glint in her eyes. "Because I sure am having fun with mine~"

Dry up - Shut up Giggle Water - Liquor Carte Blanche - Complete freedom to act as one wishes

#sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor

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martensite-triangulation · 1 year

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I think I made 2015-2017 era Corn to resurface and y'know what

It's okay

I'm gonna let old me pilot my body a little bit

She will be so delighted to see how much has changed. For the better, of course

#mine #Everything will be alright my girl. There will be a rough patch but as with all things that too shall pass #You will enter a wonderful new chapter in your life. You will be able to explore all the fictional scenarios you were always too scared of #There will be nothing holding you back #You were so brave for holding on. I hope you get to see how different it all is. Things are only going to get better from here on

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igotanidea · 3 months

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Stuck: Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader

A/N: seriously, I almost titled this chapter "idiot" , XD (and that's also the spoiler alert XD)

part 1 to too much

part 2 : not enough

part 3 : almost there

***

One year ago

„When will you get those irrational thoughts out of your head Y/N?”

“What irrational thoughts?”

“About marriage out of love. No such thing exist in the world, my dear and if you do not start living in reality you shall become a spinster!”

“Mother!” Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the harsh and unjust words. She was still so young and to almost be called an old maid—

“Do not raise your voice young lady. You shall marry this season otherwise you would be putting our noble house in a very compromising position.”

“But-“

“Ah! Do not object your mother Y/N. You’ll do as I say. I know what’s best for you and you shall follow the lead. And that is precisely why you’ll accept when Lord Bridgerton proposes to you.”

“Lord Bridgerton!? Which one!?”

“The viscount, dear.” Her mother fluttered her fan imperiously. “Lord Anthony Bridgerton.”

“There is no possibility that I-“

“Hush!”

“Mother I –“

“You’ll say yes.” The tone of voice became much more commanding, leaving no space for discussion. It was like Y/N’s fate has already been decided.

“And why shall I? Because the viscount has decided he has enough pleasantries exchanged with modistes and actresses and other ladies free of the burden of the title. Because mighty Lord Bridgerton decided it is time to tie bounds with a young noble lady, who will be naïve and foolish enough to look at his antics without as much as a blink of an eye. Who will – dear lord – bear him an heir to the title and be the perfect little wife he would order around.”

“Y/N Y/L/N!” her mother raised from the chaise longue with cheeks flushed due to her daughter impertinence. “You will accept the proposal!”

“I will not!”

“Your father has already made the appropriate commitments!”

“Commitments!?”

“You shall be courted like a young lady should and get married in the fall.”

“Mother!”

“It has been decided. Now, you go and make yourself presentable. Lord Bridgerton has announced his visit in the afternoon.”

***

The visit was a disaster, to use the light words.

It was clear as day that neither Anthony nor Y/N were fully content with this arrangement and subconsciously tried to discourage the other. That way, when one of them would actually break it off, said one would be to blame for the disgrace, that would undeniably fall on both families.

However-

Despite some many character discrepancies they were both pertinacious and individualistic, ready to go the greatest length to have one’s own way. Neither of them was even thinking of surrendering easily.

Therefore, during his first appointment as a suitor Anthony was met with cold stares, minimum exchange of words and very noticeable distance on his future bride’s part.

Immediately matching the atmosphere and repaying in kind, only doubled in intensity.

Getting burned with the tea in response.

Causing a lot of havoc, many fake words of apologies and even more words of assurance that is must have been an unfortunate accident and he holds no grudge.

For obvious reason the time spend in L/N;s household was cut extremely short and Y/N was send to bed without supper to think about her erratic behavior.

Next few visits were no better.

Especially not the one when Anthony and Y/N were to reveal to a wide audience the nature of their acquaintance by strolling on the promenade, beaming with happiness due to their soon-to-be marriage.

“Dear lord, you are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony hissed in Y/N’s ear grabbing her arm with a bit more force than needed “Smile.”

She put on a fake grin when they were passing by some familiar face, but as soon as the woman was gone she turned to Anthony throwing daggers at him.

“Giving me orders already, Lord Bridgerton?”

“Hopefully you can be tempered if we start getting you used to it this early.”

“Oh! Perhaps it should be you to change the perspective my lord. See the real face of a lady you decided to meet at the altar?”

“And here I though your wonderful mother raised you better.”

“Do not dare speak of my mother the ill way!” she almost yelled, almost yanking her hand free from his grip, stopping the walk and challenging him to do something reckless.

“Forgive me.” He became serious in an instant and the words of apologies actually seemed honest. “You are right, I overstepped.”

“Thank you.” She responded with a deep sigh. God knows how much it took for her to stay calm. Regardless of the on-going conflict and differences in views between Y/N and her mother, the young woman would never let anyone offend her family. Not even Lord Bridgerton. And he should know that straight away.

“Perhaps we have started off the wrong foot, Lady Y/L/N.”

“I believe so. Seemingly we have a way to bring out the worst in each other, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Is that a way to tell me I have already seen you on your lowest behavior?”

“Compliments, Lord Bridgerton, you have endured my greatest efforts to cause you dispiritedness.” Despite herself she let out a chuckle.

“I am known for my endurance even in the least favorable circumstances.”

“I shall keep on my efforts, nonetheless.”

“I am deeply convinced that this will be the case”

***

Dearest gentle reader,

It has come to this writer’s attention that the affection between Viscount Bridgerton and young lady Y/L/N is in full bloom.

Despite the initial misunderstandings and noble behavior, that hasn't deceived any member of the ton, even if have been well played, recent news and observation has shown that maybe there's less pretending and more truth to it.

Much to the ton’s discombobulation, young pair has been seen laughing together while the viscount resorted to courting in the way that resemble his late father and Lady Violet Bridgerton manner.

This writer daresay that no elite member would have ever do as much as dream of Lord Anthony Bridgerton picking meadow flowers for his chosen one while walking in the fields, away from prying eyes. Neither anyone would ever think about the forever dreamer lady Y/l/n actually so close to fulfilling her dream of marrying out of love. Irrational thoughts, as someone may put.

It is yet to be decided whether the on-going courtship between lord Bridgerton and lady Y/L/N will be a source of impending scandal in the society or whether those two will actually succeed in keeping this lovable atmosphere for following years.

After all – real love is not easily found and even less easily kept once the obstacles arise.

***

Now.

“You are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony murmured taking Y/N;s arm and bowing to the passing nobles “Smile.”

Those words brought back some memories and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of the history that was in fact repeating itself.

“What is so funny?”

“Your memory does seem so be failing my lord. Won’t you remember the last situation when you told me to express my happiness and contentment to the ton?”

“I—” Anthony cut off, letting out a deep, frustrated sigh.

“Seem like you do after all.”

“Y/N…”

“Been a while since I had to pretend I was content though, given the fact that I truly was, of late.” The hint of sadness and melancholy was not to miss and did not make it easier for Anthony to pursue on the apologies he was tirelessly pursuing.

“Y/N…”

“Good job on choosing the right name since the person, whose hand you are now holding for display seem to be too much for you, my lord. To say the full truth I am fairly surprised you chased me here instead of focusing on spending time with one of your-“

“Don’t you finish that sentence.”

“Oh, I shall not, god forbid. I shall keep the pretenses as any lady married into a good family will.” She send the brightest smile to some kids that were running around, preached by their parents, holding her walls up.

At this point, mockery and distancing herself from the entire unfortunate events, if not fight, was the only way to prevent the emotional and mental breakdown and falling into tears. She was hurt. She was deeply hurt on a level she never thought existed. Anthony’s behavior hit precisely in all the sensitive spots, leaving her overthinking and wailing inside. Reminding her of all the years in her family’s household, being forced to act according to the standards, which she constantly broke, defying all the rules of ossified society and paying a heavy price for being herself despite the odds.

Being called too much, constantly.

Until she met Eloise, which was freeing. Y/N could finally feel like herself, spending a lot of time with Bridgertons.

And then meeting Anthony.

And actually creating a happy story with him, believing she would once and for all be free of the typecasting and tag putting.

But he started behaving in the same way to which she was exposed her entire life.

Too much.

Not enough.

And it made her angry.

“Please do forgive me for not easily being shaped in the wife you want me to be.”

“Shaped? I never wanted you any different!”

“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow teasingly and it got her furious glance of her husband’s and the tightening bruising grip on her wrist. “you’re hurting me. Again.” The emphasis put on the last word actually made Anthony realize that he was not made of stone, but the words he wished to say were not coming easily.

“Y/N…” he clenched his jaw. She was mocking and challenging him even now, when he was trying to admit he was wrong and trying to apologize for the wrongdoings.

“Yes, my lord?” she took a step back, smiling in that light way that made him even more furious.

“I believe you wanted to spend time on an intellectual conversation with my sister. Forgive me-“ he bowed in a distant manner reserved for strangers rather than spouses “-for being as impertinent to interrupt ladies’ time. I shall withdraw and leave you to continue on your – surely important- exchange”

And with those words, much to the shock of not only Y/N, but also Benedict and Eloise, who were still following them, Anthony bowed again and started walking away, raising clouds of dust due to the speed with which he rushed off from the place where he left his beloved wife.

Feeling the weight of failure and heartbreak on his shoulders, without a single way to make up for his mistake and keeping the face of a viscount at the same time.

Convinced that she hated him and there was no way to regain her favor and affection.

next part (finale!) : Just right

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#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #bridgerton angst #anthony bridgerton angst

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yourplasticlittlespastic · 16 days

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E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ - Series

Part 2

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff! Raw +18 warnings will come later in other chapters

Notes: That's right, I plan to make it a series. Not too short, not too long but enough! Benedict has stolen my days and nights and I've been daydreaming too much ngl.

WC: 3.5K

Humidity has reached its peak.

You cursed quite low as the sweat forming on your lower back created a wave of uncomfortableness and nevertheless, you were putting yet another layer of fabric. Madame Delacroix called it freshening and here you are, the third hour of trying out the fabrics of the newly imported cloth.

"Better than whalebone, is it not mon cherie?"

You looked at Madame Delacroix with the sense of cursing her too but you smiled rather sweetly "Steel you said? It is... better" You felt the structure of the corset, still very fitting and nothing different from the previous ones except for the metal strips on the side.

"Bien, we shall get it" The seamstress nodded and started working immediately and as you stood there; presence made statue and breath made a mere flow you saw people passing, your mother with her pupils dilated as the colours of fabric captured her you wondered if perhaps things could go more easily this season.

A sudden wave of hope filled you at the thought of not having Daphne around, not to confuse it with hate, you love the Bridgertons but the eldest sister made quite a chaos last time that unfortunately even if some pair of eyes landed on you, Daphne and the Duke took most for themselves.

When you returned to your house, adorned with the marble that was polished every morning of every day, you lay on your bed tired of doing absolutely nothing. Looking pretty in a burgundy dress is not a task that burns brain cells.

“Mama” you said with your head facing the ceiling and your legs swinging.

The woman who you were looking for entered the room, holding a cup of tea in her hands and a smile on her face, one that was painted so naturally, one that she passed to you.

“Yes, my dear?”

“May I go to the Bridgertons?”

“Now?” Your mother saw the agony on your face “I want you back before sunset”

“You must not worry” Your heels clicked on the ground as you got up, a smile on your face and the feeling of going to a friend's house instead of spending the day in your chambers “Finally, finally” you whispered clumsily going outside your grandiose mansion and breathing the powdery vs. Pollen of London’s air.

It was a three-minute stroll as you turned the block towards the Bridgertons; ultimately you saw the gates open and the carriage that was waiting outside.

The sun was shining as you looked upwards, the sky a shade of blue that reminded you of the ocean, the one that your father brought you to a couple of summers ago.

You knocked twice and waited for someone to open, a maid appeared and bowed.

“Miss Ashbourne”

“Morning Rose, may I?”

“Please, the ladies are-“

“In the drawing-room, I assume, as always”

“Miss Penelope is there as well"

"The more, the better. Thank you, Rose" With pose you took your dress and tried to walk inside the beautiful almost similar entree of the house but-

"Anthony?!"

You smiled at the voice and before stepping into the staircase you turned around and made your way to the other room; the one that always smelled like oils and wood.

“I believe your sight might be flawed… that or you quite meant I look like Anthony”

Benedict’s eyes lift from the painting, a smile spreading on his lips and you did the same.

“In spirit perhaps” he curved his lips “Forgive me Miss Ashbourne, the angle from this side is not ideal to see who walks around”

“Hmmm that’s alright,” you said stepping into the middle of the room, the tiles stained with long-forgotten strokes “How are you?”

“Not bad at all and you?��

“I could be better, a boring day it is but I meant if you were fine after art school and…” you stopped to see if you were not being impertinent but he seemed to put his wooden palette down and pierced his ears “I mean…”

“That’s kind of you to ask, Y/N” he shrugs “I’m dealing with it well, I’m content with what I’m doing right now and what happened there it was to be enjoyed”

“That’s good,” you said ready to leave the room “Well I shall leave you with your…” your eyes caught the painting, a room adorned with frames and curtains “Beautiful painting”

"Thank you, I'm still polishing it but thank you" He eyes you oh so slowly as he squinted his eyes “Would you like to stay for a while?”

“Oh”

“Come on, I’ve always enjoyed sharing words with you”

"Well..." You said unsure, you didn't want to leave him so fast after the kind words and the invitation, it was rude of you "I would like to"

"Good, you can sit right there" He pointed to the chair and you did what you were told, watching how Benedict moved the easel and the chair behind, you heard a bit of noise as the stool and his tools were put in a table, he sat down and looked at you

"Tell me, I know you’re a debutante this season”

You snorted that the sound made Benedict laugh in return “My days have been filled with the preparations for this season and my mama is driving me crazy because apparently, I don't know how to sit and breathe"

"What?"

“I move my chest too quickly that it looks like I’m always on the verge of an attack, that’s what she says. I never thought controlling my breathing would be a concern in my life but here we are”

How eyes had a mind of their own because they landed very briefly on the straight neckline of your dress and the mounds of your chest and he snapped only to say "She cares about you"

"I know" You shrugged “is just so… boring”

“What? Do you want some drama? Perhaps lady Whistledown-“

“Not the drama inked words can bring” you confessed “I do not know what I want from this season. Last one I was still an espectator and yet the chaos was too much to bear. This time… should I prefer quietness and routine? Or perhaps-“

“A scandal,” he said with a glint in his eyes “I would go for the latter but I'm not you"

"You think it's the right thing to do?"

"No, but I have a reputation to live up to" He smiles and you cannot help but laugh as his shoulders move in amusement "So I am the one to talk, aren't I?”

“Quite indeed you are, Benedict,” you said

“So” he smiled “can you spare some time so I can tell you how I achieved the perspective here?”

“I can spare a day or two”

“That’s real talking”

Benedict has always been keen on you. Your spirit reminded him of Anthony; how sharp and stubborn and your way of talking reminded him of Eloise; how straightforward and full of wit. Every time you found each other alone the conversation flowed like a river; the topics varied and he liked to be surprised, and you liked to surprise in return.

Today he was trying to explain to you how he was working on the perspective and the shading; you didn't understand half the things that were coming out of his mouth and yet you kept your attention on him, it was hard to do so as you saw how he moved his hand to demonstrate or the way he tilted his head with fervour.

It took a gentle few minutes for you to get into the atmosphere you always find with Benedict. The straight posture left your body as you moved your hands from your lap and made your way next to the canvas. Your nose could smell the painting and fresh oil splash on a jar. For all you know, Benedict Bridgerton, the tallest and silliest brother, had a way to make you feel yourself. Indeed with one and twenty years on this earth, you would say you have the closest for at least a solid seven with him: a good friend with good values and good lips, the former an observation you have assembled for the past two years.

“But who says that in the same painting orange and purple must avoid each other?” you asked staring at his fingers and the way he pointed at the canvas "hmmm?"

“You see, my professor said that the tones do not match and rather make the art cheap” he explained

"so" you laughed "if by any chance I decide to follow Lady Featherington's fashion trend and mix orange and purple in my wardrobe... I'll be considered cheap by your professor?"

He smiled looking down and hastily removed the curl from your side and allowed it to frame your face better "He would be mad to even think such a thing but please stay with your beautiful gowns, it makes your skin glow"

You stayed there feeling the pulsation at the back of your neck and the sudden urge to remain silent, the feeling of a blush forming and you were aware.

"Thank you" you whispered and moved away to see the painting closer, your hands behind your back.

"You're welcome" He smiled, not taking his eyes off of you and he saw how you were trying to avoid his stare.

Change the subject. You told yourself.

“Haven’t the styles changed over the years?" you asked out loud and trying very well to follow what your head was ordering "If orange and purple even join each other in the future I would be quite mad that it was not you who decided to pursue such an art transgression”

Benedict felt the most boyish with that compliment that he looked down and snorted all genuinely.

“We will see, I have several canvases ready to be corrupted and you. I mean you?” He smiled “How are your activities?”

Your smile grew large “Let me tell you about this book I’ve been reading, it has six volumes”

“I’m all ears, Miss Ashbourne”

That day apart from receiving multiple comments and opinions from Benedict about the biology books you stole from your father's library, you also received a scold from your mother alas you didn’t return when you were supposed to and you said you were encapsulated with the girls and the tea that tracking time was not good. Lost indeed between the smell of oil paintings and unfinished canvases.

And when debuting finally happened, oh so gracefully in front of the Queen. You smiled when it was over, the simple nod of Queen Charlotte alleviated any woes within your mother. You, Y/N Ashbourne a debutante with an ambitious mama by her side. The season was ready to begin.

A week was when you swore you could not feel your cheeks anymore. You have succeeded and had five suitors calling on you every day. The conversations were just a tad dry like the biscuits served by the Cowpers.

“Tighter”

Your squeal resonates only within you as your ladies tightened the corset and followed, as always, your mama’s orders.

“Tighter”

“Perhaps this is good, I feel like I might…”

“You are good my dear, tighter” your mother nodded

And the last squeal escaped your lips as you saw in the three mirror dresser how up your breasts appeared. After getting ready, with the greatest olive green beaded dress Madame Delacroix could design, you made your way to Lady Danbury’s Ball.

It was a night as expected. Your first dance was with a Viscount. He was old, not very handsome and didn't talk to you, you only nodded. The second was an Earl, you were thankful it was a waltz because it seemed that he was not keen on anything else than moving back and forth. The third much to your dismay and much to other girls’ amusement the Marquis of Ashdown stepped on your poor toes until you were destroyed not by dancing but by being in front of him.

“Quite young is he not?” Eloise said with a macabre smile

“Shush it, El. I am mostly embarrassed, he belongs in a nursery”

“And yet he is wife-hunting” she snickered “Nonetheless I must admit that if you two marry then you’ll downgrade from Ashbourne to Ashdown”

“Incredibly funny you are Eloise Bridgerton”

The night went as expected, everything as expected and nothing to be surprised about.

“Goodbye!” Eloise almost yelled that even you blinked in surprise and her quick getaway made you sense a male figure was coming your way so you turned and saw Lord Coxingworth, with his light blonde hair brushed backwards he requested a dance and finally your toes relaxed as well as your dancing skill made is debut; with such a dancer such as Lord Coxingworth.

“I may say that this has been a refreshing way to end my night” he smiled

“You are leaving?”

“I’m afraid so, Miss Ashbourne. My mother is not feeling fine”

“Oh my, then you ought to leave immediately. Give her my regards and please send me a letter once you reach home. I pray she recovers fastly and hopefully, your journey home won't take too long"

"I shall" He bowed and you smiled. “And I shall see you once this matter is settled. I shall pay a visit next week, Miss Ashbourne. You look gorgeous tonight"

You thanked him and watched how he disappeared into the crowd. It was the last dance of the night and yet your feet did not hurt as much after the success and your mother approved with a single nod.

You made your way to the back of the ballroom where Eloise was waiting with Penelope. Minutes later to what it seemed between giggles and quick banter, you saw a shadow passing and it stood quite tall beside Eloise. Benedict.

“Ah sister; mother is looking for you; something about at least being seeing for five minutes beside a man”

“I must leave too, my mother is…” Penelope distractedly said “She is… bye”

You turned to see Benedict with his pristine and flattened down dressing robe “They left me in bed company”

He acted hurt “ow how sorry I am, they left me with a good-looking girl” he shrugged “It’s a matter of perspective” he stared at the green dress “You look quite beautiful. How was the night, is it true you danced with the Marquis of Ashdown?”

“I fought a war with his feet, that was not a dance”

“Let the poor kid be, you are a fine dancer, better than anyone I know. So? He is going to pursue you?

You smiled “Only if his governess allows him”

He snorted and made a burning sound “Good girl” he sigh “What about Lord Coxingworth?”

“Oh… I think it went better than Ashdown”

“Hmmm”

“He said he ought to see me next week”

“Did he?” He sniffed “I think then you have a suitor then”

“Far from it,” you said and looked around “Before the end of this night I must go into Lady Danbury’s library”

“Are you…” he smirked, “Sneaking and stealing yet another book?”

“She once said I could take advantage of her collection”

“yes, only if you are inside the house” he debated with a laugh

“And I am not?”

“But you will not. You’ll get the book and leave the house with it”

“And…” you stood quickly on your tips “if no one sees anything… no one has to know”

He smiled and shook his head but formed an O with his mouth when he saw how swiftly you moved away from your spot. The beads on your dress shifted with you, the curls on your back bounced at the pace and he, the only accomplice in such a furtive task, joined you.

“Perhaps it is better to go back, they might be expecting us”

“Oh nonsense,” you said with the thirst for that book you knew Lady Danbury had, your hand turned the knob and your eyes sparked at the dark of the room that held the shadows of all the books “Eureka”

Benedict stood behind you, a small smile on his face as you searched for the book.

His eyes, like a thief, looked at your curves, the ones the dress did not hide and tried but also sneakily -in the theme of the night- to capture a glance of your oh-so-fast-moving chest your mother thinks you have.

“What is the book?” he asked

“A collection of poetry, not known, written by I believe anonymous people”

“Huh, controversial. Have you read other compilations?"

“Not now but if this one is good, I will try to get a hold of more… unusual editions. This one has the most beautiful cover and I can't help to imagine what it's about"

"I see" he whispered, his voice a bit deeper as his eyes landed on your face

"Do you have a problem?" You turned around to see his eyes were not on the shelves

"No, no, not at all. Let us do something. Open the book on any page and read it out loud. Let us judge it, not by the cover but by one page and one page at all”

You smiled widely at the idea and nodded, you moved around to be in front of him, your left shoulder leaning against a bookshelf allowing yourself to feel more relaxed.

“Alright then…” you cleared your throat and questioned where you could split the book, the beginning, the middle or the end. As your long fingers traced the last page, you told yourself that knowing the ending might ruin the whole thing even if it’s a poetry book “Here” you blindly said and split the book “Let me…” you cleared your eyes amidst the dark room

"In halls of opulence, where high society reigns,

A love forbidden, amidst whispered refrains.

She, a maiden of humble birth, with grace and charm untold,

He, a nobleman of lineage, with wealth and power bold.

Their hearts entwined in secret, amidst societal divide,

Forbidden love's sweet agony, where passions dare to hide.

For in their world of privilege, where status reigns supreme,

Their love is but a whisper, in a world of stifled dreams.

Yet in the hush of moonlit nights, beneath the stars' soft gleam,

They steal away in shadows, where love's light doth beam.

For in their hearts' defiance, they find a love divine,

A bond that knows no boundaries, in a world of rigid line.”

Your eyes darted up to look at him, you didn't expect his eyes to be already on you. His eyes had a certain glint, an emotion you could not pinpoint and as you waited, he cleared his throat.

“That was such a heartfelt piece” he nodded

“Very sad,” you said “I wonder if this person wrote it while going through it or wrote it as a memory of what once was”

“Knowing this world we live in, the latter”

“I enjoyed it” You closed the book and smiled at the cover, you could see the outline of the letters, “I’ll keep it for a while”

“Only if you read some to me too, if I have shared this task I shall share the prize”

You giggled “What a prize, a poetry book”

“Time with you I would say,” he said very quickly in a hoarse voice that he didn’t know he could do

Your heart did a thing, it beat hard and quick but also slow and you felt it was going to be out of your chest.

He was not expecting an answer and so he said "Let's get out of here"

"Yes, let's"

Once outside the room and with the book hidden in your dress, Benedict looked both sides of the hallway and gave you the thumbs up and you both made a run for it, a run for the stairs and to the exit door.

And there you stood, with the cool air hitting your face, with a smile so bright Benedict had to squint his eyes, the laughter came, loud and uncontrollably.

"Miss Ashbourne" He said once the laugh died, the joy in his eyes were still present "and I called myself a bad influence once did I not?”

“I learnt from you, Benedict”

It was the sound of his name coming from your mouth that made him shiver. He didn’t know how or why he felt such a pull. Such desire and such attraction. Unequivocally you were beyond what a diamond could be, the face of an angel he confessed but the natural and free aura that you radiated since he had memory is what made him be there with you at most times.

He didn’t know how it happened but he found himself quite close to your figure, under the night sky, he could see the warm lights crashing against your right side and the darkness hiding the left one.

“What is the name of the book?”

He asked such a simple question but with so much passion that if you were not wise enough to understand the tone, you would have thought he felt compelled to have the book right now.

You blinked at the soft wave of his brandy breath and saw the eyes that stared down -because of the height- and how intrigued he looked.

“Entwined”

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dmclemblems · 2 years

Text

i bet the reason bk attacked my cat again three/four years later is bc he thought there was a warranty on how long he had to go not attacking him and he thought that warranty was expired so he did it again

joke’s on him, tibarn said it wasn’t

#every time he tries to hurt blue kett someone stops him #has he just not realized the earth and nature itself has a protective veil over him?#has he just not realized it was not meant to be?#has he failed to see that everyone loves the blue kett and will not allow such a blasphemy?#bk rly opened his villain dictionary after por chapter 11 and read:#an engagement by the insured party that certain statements are true or that certain conditions shall be fulfilled #the breach of it invalidating the policy #and he was like hmmm okay #an engagement by the insured party (blue kett)#that certain statements are true of that certain conditions shall be fulfilled (go now hurry!)#the breach of it (attacking kett and preventing go now quickly)#invalidating the policy (''one of the perisoner's'' get out of bk kill free pass go collect 200 gold)#and realized he could not breach the policy set forth by world renowned mastermind jokester birb #lest he face the hammer of cat justice far earlier than the end of the sequel war #the thing abt the hammer of cat justice is that no armor is impenetrable to it #so no goddess blessing was gonna help him if that hammer came down to smash him and turn him into a black ant #mind you red ants are more persistent than black ants and harder to kill #which is why zelgius hides in red armor bc he knows he's less likely to be killed if he's a red ant today #a black ant is easier to spot too bc he's so infamous and recognizable and tellius peta will come for his ass #if he's a red ant nobody will realize he's also the black ant #but he messed up when he thought the warranty was expired and tried to attack again bc that warranty never expires #so now he's not safe bc both black and red ant have tried the same thing and it gave him away #ranulf was like shit man i had this one black ant try to get me once before and you just did the same exact thing #that's hella sus and i might have to confer with my people (boyfriend) that i think you're an imposter #also what would happen if we tossed a red ant in armor out of the airship?#and then tibarn comes in like we'll have to wait and see bc before we toss him out into space i have to get you #a special free ride with yours truly back to safety bc he revealed his true colors (black ant) when he attacked you #later janaff was asked to spy on red ant and lost his shit when the red ant grew in size and turned black and warped #to the enemy ant hill and fought as a black ant but then shrank himself and turned into red ant and went back to other enemy ant hill

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dragon-kazansky · 23 days

Text

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Season Two}

Season one

Chapter Seventeen - End of the season

♡♡♡

The duke and duchess were holding the last ball of the season. It was going to be a grand event to be certain. The whole ton would be there.

You were wearing your last gown made for the season. It was beautiful. A shade of green. It had little jewels sewn into it, so it would sparkle while you danced.

You looked forward to seeing Thomas.

Though you had not secured an engagement within the time of the season, you hoped that you may continue to correspond with Thomas while he was in the country, and perhaps go see him at his family estate, that he may ask.

Your mother would be so proud.

Your maid did your hair and helped the jewellery. It was going to be a spectacular season finale. You could feel it in your bones.

Hastings House was beautiful.

You walked with your mother around the fountain to the main entrance. The ball was to be held in a small courtyard in the middle of the house. Daphne had done a splendid job.

There was a painting of the duke and duchess on display. Painted bt Henry Granville. It was beautifully done.

You stand off to the side while your mother chats with guests. You watch people waltz.

Violet arrives with Eloise. Daphne goes to talk to her sister.

You keep your eyes peeled for any sign of Thomas.

The next to come through the door are the Featheringtons. You cannot deny your relief at seeing Penelope again. Granted, she is wearing yellow, but she is here.

One dance ends, and the next dance begins.

You take a stroll about the ball. Thomas has yet to arrive, it seems. You smile at Penelope as you pass her. She smiles back, too, seemingly surprised you had paid her any attention. People usually don't.

You see Colin parting ways with Benedict across the room. Your eyes follow the second eldest Bridgerton as he walks.

He hasn't noticed you.

Maybe that's for the best...

No.

No. He is your friend and you want to talk to him. You are about to make your way across the room when a servant comes up to you with a note on his tray. You look at him confused.

"For you, ma'am."

You look at the note and pick it up. The servant leaves, and you unfold the paper. The handwriting belongs to Thomas.

I must apologise. I am to leave for York immediately. I shall not be at the Hastings ball. Do have fun on my behalf.

- T. Hardy

You stare at the note in silence. He's not coming at all. He must have left earlier in the day. Perhaps in a rush. You had been at the Bridgertons that afternoon, so if he called the house, you wouldn't have seen him.

If he had called to the house, the butler would have told you, or even your mother. He did not call... So he must have been in a rush.

You sigh. You fold the note back up and leave it on a tray of a passing waiter. They can dispose of it for you.

Glancing up, you find two blue eyes gazing at you. Benedict has seen you. Now you're definitely going to go talk to him. You make your way across the courtyard and come to stand beside Benedict.

"Hello."

"Hello," he replies softly.

Silence fills the space between you, and you turn to the dancers to occupy yourself, and to keep from looking at him again.

"Is Lord Hardy not with you?" Benedict couldn't help asking. He was surprised to see you standing alone tonight.

"No. He left London already. Back to York."

Benedict is even further surprised by the information. He thought Hardy would stay until the very end. He believed the man to be falling for you.

"I see."

You look down and try to keep yourself in check. "I thought maybe I had finally found someone. Someone who perhaps desried me, but it seems I was wrong."

Benedict keeps quiet.

"I wasn't enough for anyone this season. I tried, and I failed. Doesn't matter, I suppose. Next year might be different."

"You didn't fail."

You look up at Benedict. "I didn't secure a proposal or even managed to keep a man interested enough to at least say goodbye before he left."

"You might see him again," he says.

"Somehow, I feel not."

Benedict feels for you. You have been nothing but glorious and wonderful and yourself all year round. You wiggled yourself into the lives of his family and became a pleasant consistent in their lives. You encouraged his passions and made him feel a little more like himself.

"You didn't fail," he says again.

You look up at him and crack a smile. "Next year then."

He nods.

The music changes and the floor is cleared. You notice the duke and duchess approach each other. You knew something had happened between them, but didn't know what. Yet, here they were about to dance for the ton.

You smile at Daphne as dances with her husband. They look like such a handsome couple. You envy them. You envy what they have.

The way they look at each other. How close he holds her to him.

Love.

It is so rare. It's so rare that very few people ever get to feel it for real. You want it. You want to know what it feels like to have, well, a soulmate. The one person made just for you. To love and to hold. To cherish. To share every moment with.

Benedict shifts hisngaze from his sister to look at you. He can see the way you watch Daphne and Simon dance.

Benedict's had fun. He played around. Tested the waters. But looking at you right here and right now makes him rethink everything.

Genevieve has certainly been fun. Yet, if you were going to try again for your own sake next year, perhaps he should, too. You, who inspired his art. Inspired him to try harder and practise more.

Perhaps next season, you will both benefit and grow more as people.

As the waltz continues, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance brings you to look up at the sky. The heavens open and rain pours. You gasp softly as the cool droplets hit your skin.

Benedict instinctively reaches out for you and guides you under the canopy toward the house. You look up at him and then turn back to the ball. Everyone else does the same, seeking shelter from the rain.

Everyone but Daphne.

Simon is holding her hand as if he was guiding her to shelter, but Daphne stops him from doing so. She closes her eyes and lifts her face to the sky, letting the rain fall.

She looks beautiful.

Lady Danbury stops anyone else from going out into the rain. "Everyone... I believe this evening is complete. We shall thank our gracious hosts for such a splendid soiree in the morning. Now, go. Out."

Everyone begins to leave.

Benedict slips his hand into yours and guides you out. You look up at him quietly.

Daphne and Simon have some talking to do.

Benedict guides you through the house and outside to the carriage. It's still raining. His hair sticks to his head and you giggle.

"What?"

"Nothing..." You smile.

He gives you a boyish grin. He helps you into the carriage and stands around in the doorway.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" He asks.

"You leave for the country tomorrow."

"Are you not also?"

"Me and Mama are to stay in London. We don't have a country house to go to in the summer."

Benedict didn't know that. "Did your father not own an estate?"

"We had to sell it when he died. He left us with a great deal of dept."

He realises in that moment how much he doesn't know about you. You're so much more complicated than he originally thought.

Your mother clears her throat and Benedict moves to let her into the carriage.

"See you soon, I hope?" He looks at you.

"I'll write."

He nods and watches the footman close the door. He steps back as the carriage leaves, and Benedict finds himself a little lonely.

♡♡♡

When you rise the next morning, you have no idea of anything that happened within the Featherington house. Lord Featherington died. He was killed.

Penelope spent much of the morning in tears. Elosie had gone to visit her.

Marina went with Sir Philip Crane. The brother of her deceased love who never made it back home. She was to marry him. At least she could have her child and be looked after.

You had decided to go to the Bridgerton house before they all left. It was the least you could do for Benedict and his family. They had all seemed pleased to see you when you arrived, and that made you feel warm inside.

Colin was leaving for Greece. Another reason for Penelope to be upset. Colin was going to be so far away travelling the world.

You waved him off as he rode away on his horse. Benedict had his arm locked with yours.

As the rest of the family headed inside, you struck up conversation with Daphne, Simon, and Anthony. While the duke and duchess are staying in London a little longer, it would seem Anthony intends to find a Viscountess.

That leaves all of you stunned.

Though he follows it up by saying he will keep love out of it to keep things simple. Daphne frowns at that. As do you.

"Perhaps he will learn," she says.

"Perhaps not," you reply.

Eloise hurries over to her brother, who is about to climb onto a horse. You had already said farewell to him.

"Give my regards to Madame Delacroix." She says to Benedict.

"Your regards will have to wait, El," he responds. "She is making a short trip to France."

"Oh? Not going to say goodbye to her?" Eloise asks.

"I did. Last night, if you must know."

Benedict had gone to see her after he bid you goodnight. He went to say goodbye. After seeing you at the ball last night, he decided to change his mind on a few things.

Granted, the goodbye was a long one. He spent a couple of hours at the shop, but nothing untoward happened.

"You said goodbye to her?"

"After Daphne's ball, yes." Benedict then mentioned he spent most of the ball with you.

Eloise worked out that if Madame Delacroix had been at the shop all night. That couldn't have been her in the carriage when Eloise went to protect Whistledown.

Eloise headed back inside.

"Are you coming?" Benedict calls.

You turn and see him on his horse. "Me?"

"Yes, you." He chuckles.

"Where?"

"One last ride around the square before me and my family leave for the summer." He offers.

You smile and look up at him. "I'm not dressed for riding.

"No matter. He offers you his hand."

"Benedict... we cannot create a scandal at the very end of the season."

"Why not?" He grins

"Because I said so."

He laughs.

"Very well. I'm glad you came to see us." He says.

"Me too. Have a lovely summer, Benedict."

"You too." He speaks your name softly, smiling. You both stay like that for a moment, looking at each other. The moment is broken we spurs his horse onward.

You watch him go with a smile.

You look around the square and sigh softly.

Next season was going to be different. It had to be.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

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@biancamde - @ifgslsofbsodbf - @kniselle - @berarenado - @grassclippers - @bwormie - @avengersgirllorianna

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #Bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

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lxkeee · 1 month

Text

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—CHAPTER TEN

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: ANGST

Warnings: swearing and just angst.

Notes: Yayy! An update after being gone for a month or so lmao XD but anywho, heaven and back would be updated next week, I'm still finishing the chapter up lol.

Second notes: incase if you haven't seen the Azrael fanart my friend did for me, here's the link~! And also, did you know we have a discord server? Here's the link to it:3 come and join, everyone is friendly<3 and if you're already part of the server, come and say hi too:D

Word count: 4.6k

PART ONE I PART NINE | PART ELEVEN | NAVIGATION

Michael lets out a deep exhale once he finally hears the door to [Y/n]'s room clicked as he closes it. He was beyond worried when he heard the news of what happened to her. He blamed himself for being the cause of her passing out, if only he didn't send her down there then she would've been fine.

Michael leans against [Y/n]'s door, running a hand through his soft blond locks, eyes closed as he sighs.

Unaware of the approaching dark haired taller male.

Azrael's eyebrow raised as he noticed the blond man scrunched against [Y/n]'s door, seemingly in deep thought.

Azrael heard what happened and he immediately rushed back to heaven after his work, he was worried sick for the woman.

He sighs, although he didn't show it. His charming and mischievous face remains unchanged as he approaches the door.

“Michael, didn't expect to see you today.” Azrael says, his usual teasing and sultry voice catching Michael's attention.

Michael's head raised up—previously hung low—to look at the source of the voice, only to see Azrael in his deathly glory.

“I heard what happened so I immediately came here to check up on her, especially knowing she went down there and possibly saw him.” Michael explained and Azrael fought back the urge to roll his eyes at the man.

“Still wondering why you chose her to go down there, I was willing to take the load off her shoulders.”

Michael sighs, running a hand through his light blond hair, he doesn't get paid enough for this.

“I know and I suggested it to her right? To do the rock-paper-scissors game again after she lost but she was determined to take the case and I needed to respect that, she was fully prepared to go down there.” Michael explained, exhaustion evident on his voice. He was confused too, worried even. He can only believe God's words, the man sees everything—the past, present, and future.

He can only trust his judgement despite how it pains him to see [Y/n] suffer.

Azrael sighs, stuffing both of his hands in the pocket of his pants. Decided not to further question the man and possibly aggravate both of them.

Fights between Virtues are close to non-existent, but never zero. Arguments can be dangerous for powerful heavenly beings such as themselves.

“I shall not question you further, I'll hand you my reports later this evening so for now, excuse me.” Azrael says with a sigh, walking past Michael as he knocked on [Y/n]'s door before entering.

The door closed with a click. Michael was alone in that hallway after, with a sigh and finally drooping his heavy shoulders, he walked away.

For someone to be God's right hand man, he doesn't know anything. He has no choice but to place his trust in their heavenly father.

Who is currently away to a place they don't know.

‘What a mess,’ Michael thought to himself, the worried expression on his face disappearing as it was replaced with his usual cold and aloof facial expression that he is known for, shoulders straightening up, his footsteps fading as he disappeared from the hallway.

[Y/n] was blankly staring at the ceiling as she was lying down on her bed, seemingly lost in thought.

Azrael sighs, heels clicking as he walks towards her bed, [Y/n] shifted her head to look at the sound of the noise just to see Azrael, sitting on the empty spot of the side of her bed.

She gave him a weak and tired smile.

“Are you alright? I heard what happened,” Azrael muttered, a worried look on his face, “What did I tell you about pushing yourself to the limit?”

“The audacity to say that to me with your nonexistent sleep schedule—” [Y/n] says with a teasing tone but got playfully smacked by a pillow by none other than Azrael.

“I am death, I do not need sleep.”

Azrael says with a small pout, returning back the pillow to where he got it from, crossing his arms and crossing his long and slender legs.

[Y/n] chuckled softly, moving her position to sit on the bed instead of lying down.

“I mean... You looked like death.” She says, Azrael raises his eyebrow at her.

“I don't know why but I feel offended by that statement—”

[Y/n] stares at him, almost a deadpan looking the man up and down, “Come on... You know what I mean.”

“It's the bags underneath my eyes isn't it?” he asked, deadpanning at her, “Michael has it worse, stop attacking me.”

Azrael sighs, sometimes he forgets how difficult she is.

‘Dear father, give me the strength not to end her myself. I'm just kidding, I didn't mean to say that—’

He thought to himself, letting out a long exhale as he saw the teasing grin on the girl's face.

“You're trying to distract me.” he says, eyes narrowing into a deadpan, his lips still in a pout.

“Is it working?” [Y/n] asked with a playful tone, eyebrow raised teasingly at the male.

“Unfortunately.” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, long and slender fingers weaving through the dark black locks in slight frustration.

Whenever he's with her, he sighs a lot. That's something he noticed a long time ago.

The heart palpitations he gets whenever she's near might've not been because of attraction, it's probably because of stress.

She stresses him out.

Okay, just a little bit.

Azrael sighs once more, [Y/n] resisting herself to burst out into laughter, “That's the sixth time you've sighed.” She points out, Azrael deadpans at her.

“Thank you for keeping count, I really appreciate it.” He says, playful sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“You're welcome, death.” She says, it was enough for both of them to burst into chuckles.

Knock, knock, knock.

A knock was heard from her door, catching both of them off guard.

The door opens. A long dark blue haired woman can be seen standing by the door. Her hair tied into a ponytail yet her hair still reaches her waist. A serious look on her face.

Gabriel is here.

‘Oh shit.’ Azrael thought to himself, a shiver running down his back.

The room suddenly felt colder with the woman's presence. Something that often happens whenever Gabriel is in the room.

“Gabriel... Hi—” [Y/n] says nervously, getting cut off.

“Save it Raphael, Azrael please leave.” Gabriel says, voice dripping with icy coldness.

Gabriel, known as God's messenger; she handles reports that are needed to be passed around between realms.

It is natural that the news of Raphael collapsing would immediately reach her.

She can never understand what [Y/n] sees in Lucifer, sure she can see the vision but after what happened and what he did to [Y/n].

She gets the ick.

When the meeting about Sera and Adam's actions were held and the meeting also included about this 'Hazbin Hotel proposed by none other than Lucifer's daughter.

Someone needs to oversee it.

Unfortunately, [Y/n] lost the game that decides that.

The other members thought it was a bad idea but [Y/n] insists, saying that it's fair.

She doesn't want them to baby her. She wants to prove to them that she's okay.

Gabriel was beyond worried, [Y/n] is like a little sister to her despite their ages being so close to each other.

She trusts [Y/n], she can't trust Lucifer.

She couldn't trust the man who abandoned his wife for another woman.

Especially when she learned that Lilith left Lucifer.

It made Gabriel smile when she found out.

Qui totum vult totum perdit, as she always says.

Which translates to, ‘he who wants everything, loses everything.’

Michael usually refutes it with an, ‘Omnia causa fiunt.’

Which translates to, everything happens for a reason.

She doesn't understand Michael sometimes, despite knowing the man for many eons now.

She supposed Michael has some secrets to hide as the heavenly father's right hand man.

She couldn't imagine the burden he's carrying but then again, everyone in the seven virtues has something to hide.

She hums to herself, her mind returning what she was previously thinking.

What was she talking about again?

Oh, Lucifer.

Lucifer got greedy, he lost both of his wives in the process.

What differs him from the first man then?

Nothing.

After all, he is the embodiment of the sin of pride.

He is prideful, arrogant, and greedy.

Not much of a difference between him and Adam, except for how they show their arrogance.

Lucifer became blind when given the opportunity to act upon his God forsaken dreams.

Gabriel grimaced at the thought. The very dreams that doomed humanity.

With that blindness, he lost everything in the process.

As what he deserves.

Gabriel wonders why can't [Y/n] see that a man is willing to go on his knees to worship her?

Azrael, the angel of death.

The virtue of humility. Despite Azrael's slight narcissistic personality, the man knows how to be humble.

Despite the popular belief.

The man knows how to control himself. He knows the difference between being arrogant and being proud of one's achievement.

Unlike Lucifer.

Although, Azrael is borderline to it, she won't speak about it though. Nope, nuh uh.

How funny, Lucifer the sin of pride and Azrael the virtue of humility.

Gabriel almost chuckled at the thought, ‘I supposed there are two sides of the same coin.’

With a sigh, the sounds of her heels clicking against the tiled floors came to a halt.

She stood in the hallway of the Caeles mansion, facing the door that leads to [Y/n]'s room.

She can hear [Y/n]'s muffled behind the door, along with a familiar voice of Azrael laughing. Though, muffled.

Gabriel tilts her body slightly to the side so she can gaze outside through the many windows that are in the hallway.

Dark evening blue skies are what she can see, the sun has set a few hours ago.

She's not sure, the concept of time doesn't matter to an immortal being such as her.

She turns to face the door once more, taking a deep breath as she composes herself.

Stand straight, chest up, shoulders back. Confidence.

She knocks and opens the door.

“Gabriel... Hi—” [Y/n] says nervously, getting cut off.

“Save it Raphael, Azrael please leave.” Gabriel says, voice dripping with icy coldness.

Azrael smiled nervously at [Y/n], patting the girl's head before getting up from where he was sitting—the edge or side of [Y/n]'s bed—his heels clicked on the tiled floor as he walked.

He passes by Gabriel, patting the woman on the shoulder before exiting the room.

The door clicked as it closed. [Y/n] nervously gulped.

Gabriel sighs, finally letting herself walk towards [Y/n]'s direction.

The sound of her heels clicking against the tiled floor is what [Y/n] can only hear, she plays with her thumbs nervously. Her [e/c] eyes avoiding deep dark blue ones.

“We need to talk.” She says sternly as she sits on the edge of the bed, [Y/n] sighs and nodded.

This is going to be fun. [Y/n] thought to herself, sighing mentally.

“What happened?” Gabriel asked, crossing her arms as she looked at the other female.

[Y/n] chuckled nervously, “I sorta got ambushed by evil...?”

Gabriel just stared blankly at her before deadpanning, “How—”

“It just happened okay?” [Y/n] just sighs and Gabriel just inhales and then exhales loudly.

“I don't want to continue asking about that,” Gabriel says flatly, clearly lost for words.

[Y/n] just nodded before looking away to avoid the other woman's eyes.

“Why do you insist on taking this job?�� Gabriel asked, her dark blue eyes sternly looking at the [h/c] haired girl.

[Y/n] looked at the other woman in the eye, faltering slightly from the sharpness or Gabriel's dark blue ones.

“Because I just want to, what more reason do you want?” [Y/n] says nervously, avoiding Gabriel's stern and judgemental gaze.

Gabriel sighs then raises an eyebrow at her, “We know you just want to see him. It's been eons, [Y/n]. Why are you still hung up on the guy? You should move on and perhaps find someone new?” she asked her and [Y/n] avoided Gabriel's gaze and turned to look at the window near her bed, watching as the clouds passed by her window.

She sighs, “I can't, I still love him, Gabriel. After all these years my heart still yearns for him, aches, and beats for him.” she whispers softly, voice shaking and vulnerable.

Gabriel sighs, “You always let your emotions get in the way, that's the problem with you [Y/n] you don't think.” she says sternly and [Y/n] remained quiet, she knows Gabriel is right but she can't help it.

“He's just a man, [y/n].”

“A failure of an angel, he brings shame to the seraphims.”

“No, he's not.” [Y/n] refutes back yet her voice lacks resolve, it was barely a whisper.

“So what are you telling me? That this is all worth it because he's the love of your life and this was the man for you” Gabriel asked, a tinge of anger in her voice, her words sending knives to [Y/n]'s heart.

Gabriel is right and she refuses to listen.

“I don't know... He might've been.” [Y/n] answers weakly, a single tear running down her left cheek.

“This is ridiculous.” Gabriel says and [Y/n] just gave a pained laugh, “I know.” she says, she knows that.

“So there's no chance of changing your mind then?” Gabriel asked, a small scoff leaving her lips, her eyebrows slightly furrowed in slight annoyance at the thought of [Y/n] going down in hell once more.

[Y/n] nodded, Gabriel sighed and stood up from where she was sitting, “You're really an idiot, [Y/n].” Gabriel says with a small sigh, a strand of dark blue hair falling on her face. She uses her finger to tuck those strands behind her ear. Her dark blue eyes analyzing the other woman—helpless, weak, an utter fool for lowering herself for a man.

One might say the standards are in hell because of how low it is.

How ironic, amusing.

[Y/n] smiled weakly, she knows. She knows she's stupid for loving a man this much.

Yet, she can't help it. She's a fool. A fool in love with the devil, who was once an angel, who was once her loving husband.

You can never really know you love someone until they've hurt you and still think of them as the best person ever.

“Yeah, I know.” [Y/n] says with a pained smile, a bitter chuckle escaping from her plump pink lips.

Gabriel stood up from where she was sitting, walking to a nearby window that's near the edge of her bed, she stared outside the glass panel, her hands behind her back.

“Does that mean you'll be going down there again?” She asked, not bothering to look at [Y/n].

“Yeah.” [Y/n] nodded, her eyes downcast as she looked defeated. She hated herself for being like this.

“I am not stopping you, you're far too stubborn to listen anyways.” Gabriel says, voice monotone and tired.

“I know.” she says, voice barely above a whisper, a meek and powerless voice. Not wanting to agree with Gabriel but the woman is right and it hurts admitting it.

“Don't say I didn't tell you so.”

Not the first time someone told her that, and it didn't end well for her.

History repeats itself.

And as usual, it's her fault for not listening.

Azrael stood behind the door, ear pressed on the wooden door, eavesdropping.

He is aware that Gabriel can be harsh sometimes and he is also curious.

Can't say what he heard didn't break his heart.

He moves away from the door and leans against the wall, his face expressionless.

He has no reason to cry about it, he knows he had no chance.

A small smile was now on his face and a single tear slid down from his left eye, leaving a wet trail on to his pale cheek.

The door suddenly opens which prompted him to quickly wipe the tear away and composed himself.

He watches as Gabriel walks out of the door and closes the door behind her.

Dark blue eyes meeting dark black ones.

Gabriel's eyes widened ever so slightly when he saw Azrael standing and leaning on the wall near the door, “I thought you left.” she says, eyebrow raised at him.

Azrael chuckled softly, his voice smooth and sweet yet had a tinge of slight bitterness.

“I was curious what you girls were talking about, curiosity kills the cat indeed.” he says with a slight humor in his voice.

Gabriel's eyes softened slightly, “Are you okay?” she asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Azrael shakes his head, “No, but I will be eventually.” he says with a small sigh, “Perhaps I should start moving on, besides, I'm starting to get interested in a certain someone.” he murmured, a mischievous grin on his face as remembered a certain archangel who is the acting celestial scribe to the book of life.

“Is it Michael?” she asked and Azrael gave her a disgust and flabbergasted expression, a hand over his chest.

“Excuse me?” he says, dumbfounded, “I may swing both ways but he isn't my type.” he says flatly, Gabriel gave him a side eye.

“Really? I swear both of you have this weird tension. The younglings say they 'ship' you and you two are the perfect representation of old man yaoi whatever that means.”

Azrael almost choked on air, what the fuck? Where did those angels even learn those words—

“Gabriel, what the fuck?”

Gabriel chuckles, nudging the male's shoulder, “I am just kidding.” she says with a teasing tone before humming to herself, “Metatron was it? I barely interact with them nor see them often. They're like Michael but worse, they're usually near father at all times to help him write the book of life so we barely see them in public.” she deadpans before looking at Azrael, “Since you are the angel of death, I supposed you see them often. I can just imagine you annoying them every time you're with them.” she says flatly.

Azrael chuckles, “Indeed, they're rather interesting but for now, I'll resolve my personal issues before acting upon my interest in them.”

“Good. Go to therapy.” Gabriel says, her lips pressed in a thin line as she looked at Azrael with a deadpan expression.

Azrael pouted a little.

“But I no no wanna...” he whined dramatically with a small laugh as he began to follow Gabriel as they walked away from [Y/n]'s room, the click of their heels slowly faded away as they slowly disappeared from the room.

Meanwhile,

“Dad, are you okay?” Charlie asked softly, her father staring outside his bedroom window, a lost look on his face.

Charlie was outside the door during her father and her supposed half brother arguing.

She wanted to come inside the room and try to calm both men down, but when she heard Xavier's voice as he talked to their father.

Charlie could hear eons of rage and utter pain in the boy's voice.

It stopped her from intervening, a voice in her mind kept telling her, ‘Don't. He needs this.’

Even if their father was the receiver of those harsh words.

She might not fully know nor understand the pain and suffering Xavier went but when she looked at the boy's [e/c] eyes, she was able to see utter sadness despite the blank expression on his face.

Lucifer was just blankly staring outside the window, his eyes fixated on the outside world but his mind somewhere, lost and drowning in his own self hate.

He hated it. He was not prepared. He was not prepared to see an almost exact replica of himself to arrive at his daughter's doorstep.

He was not prepared to see an exact replica of him filled with anger and sadness.

Seeing Xavier with his own two eyes, he was able to understand a bit of what the boy went through.

And he was the cause of it.

He regretted the things he has done, especially on how he treated [Y/n].

He was young—no, he was stupid. Just stupid.

Nothing can excuse his actions. He was an idiot and a fool.

[Y/n] was there for him, she was his best friend and he treated her like that.

Like a doll he discarded once he got bored.

He was wrong on how he treated her.

He should've done that, he should've loved her properly, treated her properly.

He should've been Xavier's father, the father that the boy needed and the father that the boy could trust.

Not someone he looks at with so much anger.

Terrifying, Xavier's rage reminded him of his own when he fell from grace.

Though, the reasons are highly different.

He loves [Y/n], he still does.

He realized that he still does in fact love the woman when he was separated from her for many, many years.

He would often call out to her without thinking, then remembering ‘Oh, she's not here.’

Falling from grace was enough to slap some sense into him.

He treated an amazing woman like her like garbage.

He's really an asshole.

Lilith cannot compare to [Y/n], he can't remember how many times [Y/n]'s name slips from his lips whenever he argues with Lilith.

It created distance between them.

Lilith couldn't take it anymore and left him.

He was left alone to wallow in self pity. He was left alone to mourn for the woman he left to suffer in her heartbreak which he caused.

He mourned his first love, he mourned his first son.

Which he doesn't deserve to do, considering that it should be the opposite.

To Xavier, he's a dead man. To [Y/n], he's a nobody.

Charlie watches her father with an unreadable expression on her, her hand outstretched as if to reach him but it hesitated midway. Shaking and unsure.

“Dad...?” she softly calls out again, her voice echoing despite the ringing in Lucifer's ears. His daughter's voice sounds like it's echoing in the four corners of his hotel room.

Suffocating. It felt like he was trapped in his own mind. His mistakes echoed like a siren's call to him. Teasing him.

He felt cold. He felt numb.

Snap. Everything stopped. The ringing stopped.

Though, his heart is beating erratically against his ribcage, like a monster threatening to get out of its prison.

He felt utterly numb.

His eyes are scanning his room, gentle streaks of light filtering through the glass panel of his windows giving his room a reddish like hue.

With a deep shaky sigh, he turned around and faced his daughter, his hand gripping his cane clenched ever so slightly.

“Charlie, dear... I would like to be alone at the moment.” he says, hesitantly. Voice quivering in each syllable, each word filled with the regrets of his past and present. Weighing him down.

Charlie's eyes widened ever so slightly before giving her father a small reassuring smile, “Oh! Of course... Excuse me...” she says giving him a small bow before turning around on her heels to walk towards the door. She paused, took a deep breath before looking at her father through her shoulder.

“If you need me, I'll be somewhere around the hotel. I'll always be here for you, dad.” she says with a small smile before turning around once more, twisting the doorknob open and walks out of the door.

The door clicked to a close when she was gone.

Lucifer's tensed shoulders loosened as it drops, a small frown on his beautiful face.

A single tear slips past his eye, the droplet sliding down on his left cheek, leaving a trail on his soft and pale yet rosy cheek.

“I know.” he whispered before a choked sob escaped his lips.

He can feel the stinging sensation around his eyes, vision blurring as tears mess up his sense of sight.

He can feel his legs buckling as if it struggled to carry the weight of his mistakes that he's carrying on his shoulders.

It gave out as he was now on the floor, small sobs could be heard from, his sobs bouncing on the walls of his room, mocking him.

“Why am I crying? I don't deserve to cry. I don't deserve to cry after what I had done.” he says choking on his words, shoulders shaking, trembling.

He hugged himself in an attempt to comfort himself, yet he was met with painful memories of when [Y/n] used to hold him when he was crying.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...” he repeated to himself, rocking back and forth on where he was kneeling like a sinner.

Begging for her forgiveness, yet his repentance can't be heard from her.

‘It's all my fault, it's all my fault.’ thinking these words were like a stab to the heart because it is true.

With his last bit of energy, he lies down on the cold tiled floor. His white suit a pop of color to the redness all around him, his cheeks pressed against the tiles as tears continue to slide down on his pale skin and on to the floor.

“Over, I can't believe it's over, I can't believe the love I lived, to show some other day...” he quietly sang, his voice raspy from all the crying he shifts to let his body face the ceiling, his eyes staring blankly at the chandeliers.

“Listen, I hope that you can hear me...” he sang, propping his elbows on the floor to lift himself up into a kneeling position, his hands trembling, voice cracking with emotions, “As I kneel down and pray with the love I meant to say...” he sang softly, his voice beautiful yet filled with unexplainable regret.

“Shadows, you took away the shadows...”

“Before my life was black and white, though tonight the room's gone gray.”

She was the light of his life, his life was monotone before she came, she was a splash of color to the black and white of his so-called life.

“Golden, all the love you gave was golden,” he sang softly, [Y/n]'s bright smiling face flashes into his mind, a smile that brought so much warmth and happiness into his life, “Golden, I would gladly pay, to show the love I meant to say...”

“Oh, music you made me hear, such music,”

“Silly Lucifer, don't take our elder's words to heart! Their ancient beliefs can't possibly understand your amazing ideas!” [Y/n]'s words echo in his mind, for a brief moment, he could see [Y/n] smiling and giggling at him, her long white dress fluttering against the wind.

His eyes widened when the figment of his imagination of [Y/n] slowly fades away, his eyes widened in fear as he attempted to lift himself up from the floor, his hands outstretched in hopes of reaching her.

Only to grip on to nothing.

“Without you here to guide me, I feel as though I'll fly away...” he muttered, his voice continuing to break as tears continued to stream down his cheeks.

Droplets of his tears falling into the floor, his reflection mirrored into the small puddle of his pain.

“S-sorry,” his voice breaks even more, a simple word that is too late to say, too heavy to speak with his own lips. The very words he wants to say to her.

“Sorry, that's the word I want to sing to you,”

He took a deep shaky breath, his wine red like eyes tired and dull, eyes puffy and red after all the crying he had done, “The other word is stay, to hear the love I meant to say.” he softly sang, small hiccups can be heard.

He's really an idiot.

TAGLIST I:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @zc000ter @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyreality @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby

#lxkeee answers #hazbin hotel #lxkeee updates #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader angst #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader angst #lucifer morningstar x you #“TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN”

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candysunoo · 2 days

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ Lee Heeseung as a

Bridgerton story ❀❀ ◦ೋ•

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ೋ◦dearest gentle-reader ◦ೋ•

❀my name is lady whistledown. you do not know me, and rest assured, you never shall. but be forewarned dear reader, I certainly know you.❀

───── · · ୨୧ · · ─────

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Lee Heeseung x F!reader - Queen Charlotte ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: unedited with run on sentences, strangers - to kind of friends- to lovers, traditional gender roles, 1700’s societal expectations, arranged/ forced marriage, bitchy mother-in-law, mentions of parental death, mentions of mental health ( mainly illusions to bipolar disorder and hallucinations ) and feeling like an outsider, medical malpractice, mention of feeling unloved and trapped in a marriage, SMUT, sex (like 2 scenes + illusions to more ), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, put that wiener in a blanket), loss of virginity, slight breeding kink , praise, body worship, fingering, mention of pregnancy and birth, angst and fluff, idiots in love, ❀❀◦ೋ• lmk if i forgot anything

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: 11.8k ❀❀◦ೋ•

❀ story starts under the cut! please enjoy! - Kei ❀

❀ also i deeply apologize for acidently setting the release date on auto post wring plz forgive me. Also i will be releasing a message to the rude anons i got because there is a certain way to conduct yourself and that was not it 💕 regardless please enjoy and ignore my awful formatting 😭- kei ❀

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to enha bridgerton au masterlist ❀❀◦ೋ•

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Today felt different. The air around you felt stiff, and it seemed as if all the staff’s eyes had lingered on you for too long. Their eyes filled with pity. Looks that you knew all too well. After your parents had passes away those looks were all you got for the longest time. Pity for the beloved daughter of the king and queen. A young princess of ten and two. A princess made to rely on her older brother, of only ten and five, a young man who now was taking over the throne as the head of the country. Your country was small, a speck of dust in the seemingly never-ending universe of other counties. Compared to the massive land-locked nations around you, your island was quaint and for the most part rather peaceful and not to mention almost two months’ boat journey away from any other country. You loved your country and took great pride in being its princess, going to charity events and doing all that you could with what little power was given to you. Nevertheless, things couldn’t stay peaceful for long. As you neared your twentieth birthday it seemed as if your quiet little country had gained attention that you never thought it would. People from neighboring nations had made their way over and found joy in the culture and life your country provides. Some a little too much. Your brother, however, had told you not to worry as it was beyond you, and you shouldn’t have concerned yourself with it. So, as much as you despised leaving it be you did, as your trust in your brother outweighed that of anything else.

As you walked down the cream and white hallways of the palace, decorated with paintings of people you hardly knew and busts of people long passed, you heard your brother speaking quietly with someone in his study. Approaching the wide door, you pushed your long-hooped skirt back, leaning forward at your waist and peaking your head into the doorframe being careful not to be seen or draw any attention to yourself. Your eyes settled on your brother and a tall, pale, dark-haired man standing at the corner of his desk peering down at several documents. The tall, pale, dark-haired man was dressed in a well pressed white and red suit. “… And once you sign here everything will be confirmed and finalized. A ship will be ready to set sale in the next few days.” The man’s deep voice whispered quietly as he traced the lines of script messily written down on the parchment paper placed in front of them. Your brother silently nodded, eyes darting across the paper, reading carefully, hesitating to sign. Finally, your brother looked up at the man, “and I have word that she will be taken care of? That she will not be harmed and forced to live a life unbecoming of her?” The man simply gave a curt nod, “by word of the queen of great Brittan and Ireland, yes, she will be taken care of and provided a life fit for the future queen and mother of a future heir.” In hearing his response your brother nodded, placing his quill into the jar of ink and signing the documents.

Your heartbeat quickened and your breaths became short. Your brother the only man, person really, you could rely on had just sold you off to some random stranger. Well not entirely random, he sold you off to the king. King Heeseung. You whipped up, stumbling back and slightly knocking into a bust behind you, rocking it off its collum and crashing loudly on the floor. The maid passing by jumped at the noise. Rapidly you regained your posture and ran away swiftly as your brother and the man made their way out of his study. Your brother sighed, putting his head in his hands and sweeping his hair back. The man accompanying him looked at him with disbelief as your brother assured him everything would be fine and the two of you would arrive at the port in the coming days to make the log journey to England. Silently the man once again nodded, collecting the signed documents and making his way out of the palace.

With quick haste your brother followed after you, desperately calling out your name. With deep breaths you turned to face him, your skirt flipping around as your body turned. “How could you? How could you sell me off? Sell me off to a man you’ve never met? For what brother, what did you sell me off for?” your eyes pleaded with him as your voice began to crack, tears brimming on the edge of your lashes. Your brother looked at you, hand gently coming up and wiping away the tears that had finally been released. “My dearest sister, you know that never in my years would I ever imagine hurting you or leaving you in a position to fend for yourself” he breathed in deeply “ I did this for us, you must understand that we are not in a good position, every day the larger countries around us send more soldiers and I fear that we are one step closer to becoming just another victim. In marrying you off not only have I secured your future. One where you will be treated with respect and dignity. One where you will live the finest life and be able to have beautiful children. But also, one where we have the support of one of the largest nations in the known world. Where our tiny island can become peaceful once again. And yes, perhaps we do not know much about the king, however, I have on good word that he will be nothing but kind towards you.” Your brother pulled you into a hug, gently stroking the back of your hair, “You will be perfectly fine, dear sister I will be with you until I can no longer.” Nodding you hugged your brother back, deciding that it is something you must do for not only your brother but the country you love most dearly.

Various thoughts swam around in your head as the carriage made its way down the cobblestone path. It had been a long journey at sea, but you had finally made it to the mainland. You had to admit as much as you admired your country, this one was nothing like you had ever seen before. There were larger buildings and so many people surrounding the streets. You groaned quietly and sat the book you were reading down in your lap as the carriage bounced roughly once again. “What is it this time dear sister?” your brother asked not looking up from his own book. “If you must know, I am uncomfortable.” You complained. “We have been on the road for hours now, it is hot, and I am sat here in a dress made of the finest blue silks and a corset made of whale bone. The slightest jostle pushes it deeper into my skin. Do you know what happens if it penetrates too far? Humm, do you?” you questioned, voice growing irritated. Your brother let out a small huff, placing his book down on his lap and tilting his head towards you, ‘No dearest sister I do not, but I assume that you will so kindly inform me.” You gave him a tight-lipped sarcastic smile, “It can snap and stab me dearest brother, and you will have no one to deliver to the king. Only my dead body in the finest blue silk covered with my dark warm blood.” Your brother only rolled his eyes at your dramatics and picked up his book again, “You will be fine, you have made it thus far” he said as you began to look out the small carriage window.

After a few more long hours your carriage had finally stopped in front of the main church on the palace lands. Thousands of people had made their way inside as you were being escorted out of your carriage and through the doors to a small drawing room on the top level. Inside stood a beautiful woman, dressed in a fine and pristine cream-colored gown. She handed her tea off to a maid as she stood up from the small couch on which she was sitting upon. Several of her lady’s maids ushered you onto a small platform in the center of the room. “Let me get a good look at her.” The woman declared as the maids all fled to the edges of the room. She circled you as if you were prey, poking and prodding at you.” Now what is this getup you are wearing? It is simply too much!” she exclaimed. You looked down at her, “only the finest silk of what my country has to offer.” She let out a exasperated hum lifting your arms, “Yes, she will do just fine. She has a nice complexion and hips well suited for childbearing. If only she was in something a little more traditional.” The woman looked to your brother who was standing in the entryway of the room, “Does she know how to read? Does she know how to mind her manners?” Your head snapped over to him, an irritated look growing on your face. Your brother simply smiled, eyes begging for you to calm down. “Of course, my Queen. She is well read, can speak several languages, is proficient at both the piano forte and homemaking skills such as needle point.” The queen nodded along as your brother listed off attributes. “Very well than...” she turned her head towards you, “and what do you have to say?” Casting another look to your brother you gently cleared your throat, “It is such a pleasure to be here today my Queen. Thank you for allowing me this opportunity.” The queen once again simply nodded. “Ah yes humble too. Get her into a traditional gown and prepare her for the wedding. We mustn’t keep the people waiting.” A series of ‘Yes Ma’ams’ went across the room as the queen left. As the lady’s maids dressed you, you tried to ask them questions about the king. Simple things like who was he really and if he was at all kinds. You got short answers all along the lines of “Well he is the king of course”. Nothing that truly satisfied your inquiries. Before you knew it you were stripped and placed into a boring white and cream ball gown.

Finally getting a break from all the hands on you and people around you, you wandered the halls. Silently you heard footsteps behind you. Turing abruptly, you found a man five paces away. Once again you began to walk, and the man followed. This occurred several times before you stopped and faced the man completely. He bowed to you, staying silent. ‘And whom might you be?” you questioned. He gave you a half-hearted smile and introduced himself as your valet and told you that wherever you went, he would be not but 10 paces behind you. You simply nodded, wanting to get away as soon as possible. Making your way back to the drawing room you looked behind at the man, ‘So you follow me wherever I go?” He simply nods. “Yes, Ma’am”. You purse your lips, “And if I were to need to use the chamber pot?” The man cleared his throated and looked at the lady’s maid that was left, ‘please go fetch one for the future queen”. The maid nodded leaving to go fetch a chamber pot and the man silently walked out of the room and waited. Quietly you tiptoed out of the room, carefully sneaking past your shadow and the lady’s maid that was waiting.

You made your way out of the large church, running into the maze-like garden. Taking several twists and turns you found yourself at a beautiful garden wall made with stone, covered in moss with vines growing up the sides, various breeds of roses covering them. Gripping into the strong vines you found a chip in the wall. Attempting to push yourself up and over it you ground as you failed. After several more attempts you stopped, taking a moment to breathe in deeply. On your next attempt you jumped as you heard a man clear his throat behind you. Fearing that you had been caught by your new footman you turned slowly, wincing as you did. Much to your surprise a young man stood behind you. Dressed impeccably in a white suit with decadent jewels decorating the edges of the jacket. The man was nothing less than breathtakingly gorgeous. His eyes captivated you, beautiful and lively. Like no others you’ve seen before. However, the smile he wore was even more heartwarming. Beautiful and kind. That was the only way you could describe him at that moment. “Might I inquire as to why you are trying to go over that garden wall” the man questioned, light hair that was perfectly styled now flowing gently in the breeze. “If it is any of your business it is because I fear he may be a beast, or perhaps a troll.” You stated looking down at your hands, gently wiping them against each other, “And who might you be referring to my lady?” the man continued. You rolled your eyes letting out anther huff and giving the man a side glance before trailing your eyes back to the garden wall, “As impertinent as that might be I am speaking of the King. No one will speak of him. Everything is so rehearsed no one has anything real to say. So clearly, he must be a beast or a troll.” You brought your hand up to the wall, finding a perfect spot; now if you’ll ever be so kind, I believe that if I grab it here, I might be able to get up. Yes! You can assist me by lifting me up here!” you exclaimed, looking back slightly at the man. The mans smile faded slightly, “So no beast and no trolls, his looks would matter to you?” “Well of course not, his looks don’t matter to me, but his heart does, and I cannot get any answer on that either” you answered curtly before speaking again, “Now come, make haste, grip me here…” you explained gesturing to your corseted waist, “... and just lift me, I believe I can make it over the garden wall.” Still looking up at the wall you don’t notice than man approaching you.

“I must be honest my lady,” you turned to look at him. “I have no intentions on helping you over the garden wall.” His smile came back, teeth white and glistening in the sun. The light of which highlighted his handsome feature. You threw him a questioning glance, “So you refuse to help a lady in distress?” you countered. The man just let out a low chuckle, “Only when said lady in distress is trying to go over a garden wall in order to not marry me.” Your face fell as you felt your heartbeat picking up again. Just like the day you found out you were to be married. You backed away from the man, taking in a couple deep breaths. The man followed, stepping closer to you. Smile reaching his eyes and his nose crinkling slightly, “Hello y/n. I’m Heeseung.” You began to apologize to him, getting ready to curtsy “Your majesty- “, however, he grabbed your arm, hand gently sliding down to hold your hand. “No not your majesty, Heeseung, just Heeseung.” Before you could speak again you heard a pair of footsteps. Your brother came rushing around the corner. “Y/n, where on heavens earth have you been? We have been looking everywhere for you” he hissed before quickly bowing to greet Heeseung. Heeseung gave a polite greeting back, “No need to be worried here, I was just chatting with Y/n. She was deciding whether she wishes to marry me.” Your brother looked between the two of you incredulously, “Well of- of course she wants to marry you” he stuttered. Heeseung simply shook his head, flipping is light hair back, “Is that truly what you wish Y/n?” He hummed at you. “Yes, your majest- “, his eyes flickered over your face making their way to your eyes. “Yes Heeseung, I do wish to marry you,” He nodded, giving you a charming smile, “Vey well then I shall see you in the wedding hall.”

After changing into a wedding dress more becoming of you, you made your way into the wedding hall. Your brother walking you down the long and narrow isle as the orchestra played in the background. Looking towards the end of the isle you saw Heeseung standing. He was in his pristine white suit; his white light hair was pushed back. Not a single strand was out of place, he looked absolutely perfect. Your brother handed you off to Heeseung before going to sit down. Heeseung smiled at you gently as he held your hands in his.

The wedding ceremony was quick. It seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. Before you even knew it you had said your vows of promise and celebrated rightfully with the people in attendance. After the sun had set you and Heeseung began to say goodbye to your guest before being ushered out of the large church and into a carriage. Heeseung held your hand the entire way back to the palace, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “You will absolutely love it, before you came, I had the whole palace of Kew redesigned and made just perfect for you” he chimed. You looked at him quizzingly, “will you not be there as well?” He paused for a moment before ignoring your question. He continued about the newly designed palace. As the palace quickly approached, he finished up his explaining about everything he had done. He exited the carriage first turning around to assist you out, leading you to the doors he escorted you inside before letting you go. “Now that you shall find yourself settled, I shall return to my observatory” he nodded letting go of your hand and briskly walking away from you. You frowned deeply, “Is that how it is to be? You are there and me here alone?” You asked the question. Heeseung looked exasperated, “Yes, it is easier that way.” “For whom?” you questioned back at him “For you or for me?” He looked at you, cheeks reddening and his breaths becoming unsteady, “I will not debate this” he hissed, as you opened your moth to speak, he cut you off, “I have decided, I am your king!” His voice boomed throughout the room. Silently you clenched your teeth, wondering how it all could go wrong in a matter of minutes, “Very well, it was my mistake. I thought you to just be Heeseung. Good night your majesty.” You curtsied before turned, ignoring his small calls to you and making your way deeper into the palace walls.

Days had passed and you were beginning to grow bored in the empty palace. Your footman was of no help as you were not allowed to do anything or be seen in public since it was supposed to be your honeymoon. The longer you were alone the deeper in your thoughts you fell. When you first met Heeseung he was so charming. His award-winning smile swept you off your feet and you were so happy to marry him. The sweet way he helped you and the gentle way he had first spoke to you made your heart throb with hurt of his actions when you first came to the palace. Eventually You had grown tired of being alone, unable to do anything, only being with your footman. One day at dinner as you were struggling to cut up a piece of meat you threw your silverware down on the plate; startling your footman and the servants that were posted around the room, “Joong?” you questioned the footman, “Yes, your majesty?” “Ready the carriage.” You stated as you started smoothing out your dress. “Very well your majesty, might I ask to where we’re going?” You nodded, stepping away from the table as your chair scratched over the floor, “Were going to see my husband.”

The carriage ride was short, however it felt like a lifetime to you. Once you reached the observatory Heeseung’s footman came out. “The king does not wish to see you your majesty.” He stated firmly. You looked at him, eyes narrowing. “And if I WISH to see the king?” you questioned. The footman let out an exasperated sigh, having nothing more to say. You pushed past him and into the doors of the observatory. As you entered you were stunned at the sight of it. There were several dinner plates everywhere; along with stretched out rolls of parchment, all with various sketches of stars and planets on them. In the middle of the observatory sat your husband. His shoulders bare and exposed in the soft moonlight coming from the opening on top of the observatory. His skin glistening and smooth. Before you spoke you took a moment to look at him, wanting to commit his figure to your mind. He was tall and rather lean but at the same time, he was muscular. You had witnessed him do farm chores around the palace grounds but seeing him relaxed and in his own head was something else. Before you had a chance to alert him to your present, his footman busted in. “Your majesty, Queen Y/N has arrived to see you.”

Heeseung turned around and once again you found yourself falling into his gaze. Something was different about his eyes this time. It seemed as if he wasn’t all there. As if he was somehow here on earth in front of you and up somewhere in space. “Ahh my dearest Y/n, why have you come to me today?” he babbled, turning back to his telescope. You scoffed face contorting, “Is this where you have been the entire time?” You snapped. “Sitting in here all alone, while I writher away lonely in Kew?” The king scoffs and spares you but a glance, “Would you rather me be out visiting a whore house?”. You gasped at his harshness, “I would rather you be with someone else than to come second place to some stars.” You murmured, walking around so he could face you. He looked at you, eyes traveling over your form. “Go. I don’t wish to see you; I don’t wish to be near you. Go back to your home.” His voice is eerily quiet and calm. “Why must I go? Why must I have to spend my existence alone and with only Joong and my ladies in waiting to keep me company? Why can I not have time with you?” you questioned trying to get closer to him. He pushed you away gently, “I do not know why it is so hard for you to understand y/n. I do not wish to be near you, I do not wish to see you. I do not wish to speak to you. So go.” He seethed, voice becoming louder after every sentence. With a quiet sniffle you let out a sigh and walked out. Calling out for Joong and making your way back into the carriage.

After you had left Heeseung got up from the floor, cleaning up some of the parchment around the observatory. His footman came towards him and began to help. “Do you think I am wrong for what I am doing?” Heeseung questioned him. His footman cleared his throat, “It is not my place to say, however I do believe you could be kinder to her majesty. From what I hear it has been exceptionally hard on her…” His footman trailed off not wanting to overstep his boundaries. Heeseung sighs, shoulders bending inwards, “I know that, but you of all people know why I am not to become close with her. I could not live with myself if anything were to happen. If I were to lose control. But perhaps I may have been too harsh on her.” Heeseung confessed, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He looked over towards his footman, “Find out what she likes, I wish to get her an extravagant gift” Heeseung’s footman nodded, finishing his task and going to find what was requested of him.

The next day you woke up earlier than usual. Instead of altering your lady’s maid you allowed yourself to lay in bed. After finally deciding to get up and allow yourself to be dressed you made your way down to breakfast. Another day alone, could it possibly get any worse. Shortly after you began eating Heeseung’s footman came into the large dining room carrying a small basket wrapped in red ribbon. “A gift from the king to you, your majesty, he would like to gift you a dog of the finest breed our country can offer.” You look at the footman incredulously as he sets the small basket down and a small dog comes tumbling out. “What is that?” your question. “Well, a dog of course your majesty. “That is nothing more than a deformed bunny. Regardless, as it is from the king I will accept it graciously” You nodded to the footman and signaled for Joong to take the dog. “Clearly it will be my only company in this palace.” Quickly you finished your breakfast before leaving the dining room with Joong and the dog.

After meeting with your ladies in waiting and venting to your newly trusted confidant Jiyun, you had settled down. She explained to you what your present in the palace has done for the people and how it has affected the way others are seen. Confiding in her feeling good, you felt the relief wash over you as you talked to her about everything that had conspired behind the high walls of the palace. In return she told you the rumors circulating about the possibility of an heir and the things your new Mother-in-law had said about you. Things from you being a bad wife and queen to you being un-pure when you arrived on shore. When you shared the truth about your nonexistent escapades with the king she gave you a look of pity, asking you if you had known what was to happen when Heeseung would eventually bed you. You had told her just what your lady’s maid told you, there again the look of pity crossed her face as she got up and got the supplies to inform you what was to happen.

Over the next few weeks Heeseung sent more gifts, including more dogs. You had enough to have each of your ladies in waiting carry one around for you. One day you woke up, going through your morning routine of getting dressed and pampered by the maids and going to breakfast. Much to your surprise Heeseung was there waiting for you. He seemed perfectly chipper as he enjoyed his breakfast. You sat down in front of him, eyes gliding across the room. The servants who usually seemed much more relaxed were now on guard and stiff against the edges of the room. “And what are you doing here?” You asked, easing an eyebrow slightly. He chuckled deeply, putting his for and knife down, “isn’t it obvious, I want to join my wife in our home.” You drew in a quick and deep breath, “Our home? No this is my home. A home you left me too alone.” He’s eyes soften looking at you, “I apologize for how I have been acting, but please give me a chance.” Without a second glance you got up, telling Joong that you would that your breakfast in the drawing room before walking out of the dining room. How could he think after weeks of ignoring you for the stars and sending you useless gifts you have no need for, he could come back and pretend as if everything was fine.

Over the following weeks you and Heeseung fell into a routine. Eventually you agreed to at least share one meal together and converse a little. At dinner Heeseung says across from you, eyes following you closely. “I would like to show you my observatory...” he spoke softly. Your head snapped up to him, eyes widening slightly, “Really?” He nodded, “yes I feel it’s only right that I show you what has kept me away from you for so long.” You smiled at his stately finally feeling like you were getting somewhere with the distant king. When nightfall came the next night Heeseung, and his footman came to get you from your room. You smiled softly as Heeseung gently took your hand, placing a small kiss on the back of it. As he led you out of the palace you had begun to feel nervous. What was so important about this observatory that it kept him away from you. The road to the carriage had felt like it took years. Stepping out carefully with the help of Heeseung you both made your way up the wide cobblestone steps. Entering the observatory, he opened the top to the telescope, guiding you to look inside.

“I’ve always found the planets interesting. I think it’s amazing how we can be so small and insignificant compared to the world. I have never been one to want to look at the darker side of things. Though ever since my father died at war it has been hard for me. Taking over my father’s place was the only thing I was created for. It was my only life’s purpose. I am to bear the burden of every mother, father, and child in this country.” He glances down, “Life is never easy, and I would not have expected it to be. But this crown is pressure on my head, a constant weight and reminder that I am not allowed to crack, that I am not allowed to be anyone other than who the people need me to be. I cannot just be your husband; I cannot just be my mother’s son.” His jaw clenches, eyes still cast upon the floor. You look at him, sorrow and pity finding the way to your eyes, as he continues “No matter how much I want to be, I must always be king. A king first, a king of the people, one who must take into consideration everyone. I wish to just be your Heeseung. I wish to just love you every day, to just stand by your side every day, to just be with you every day for the rest of my life… “You approach him, hands finding their way to his arms, gently tracing down them, “but you don’t have to do it alone, I’m right here, I too simply wish to be with you. In every way, with joy and with sorrow. I just want to be with you.” He looks at you, eyes soft and a charming smile making his way to his face. Gently he takes your face in his hands, leaning down and brushing your lips together ever so slightly.

Your heart jumps into your throat, another nervous feeling washing over you. This time it makes you feel giddy and excited rather than anxious. Slowly you lean into the kiss. Finally pressing your lips together. His hands find his way from your face softly sliding down before settling on your waist, pulling you closer into him. The world itself seemed to pause as the kiss went on. Lips against lips, and breaths interchanging with each kiss. As you leaned into his embrace, he pulled back resting his forehead against your hands still gripping at your waist. “Let’s go home.” The simple statement from him made you flustered, you could feel your cheeks warming up. Nevertheless, you nodded, and he once again led you out and to the carriage, holding onto you the entire way back to the palace.

Once you go to the palace Heeseung once again helps you out of the carriage, holding on to you ever so gently. Making your way inside through the large palace doors you both stop in the foyer, your maids coming up to assist you in getting ready for bed as it had become quite late. You look around, eyes finding Heeseung, he gives you a smile and allows them to take you away, “Go and get comfortable, I’ll find you later” he smiles at you once again giving you a small kiss. Simply nodding you allow yourself to be taken up the grand staircase and ushered into a bathroom, the ruby and gold encrusted tub sat in the middle with heaps of steam rolling off the top of the water inside. “We took the liberty of drawing you a bath Ma’am” your maid said, you nodded at her in thank you allowing her to undress you from your corset and large gown before getting in the bath. After being thoroughly scrubbed down by your maid you had finally gotten out of the bath. Your maid dressed you in a white button-down night dress. Making your way back to your room you let out a sigh, rolling your shoulders as the maids opened the door for you.

You stopped in your tracks as you walked into the large opulent room. Sitting on the large bed in the middle of your room was Heeseung. Leaning back on his hands, clad in just a pair of night pants and an unbuttoned night shirt showing off his chest. He glanced over at you as you entered the room, pushing himself up and walking towards you. He takes you hands in his, binging them up to his mouth and kissing them softly, “You look simply mesmerizing, y/n”, your cheeks heated up once again at his complement, looking down at your intertwined hands you smiled. “Thank you…” You unlaced your fingers bringing your hand up to cup his face, bringing your faces closer together. You leaned in close to him, softly pressing your lips together. Before you could go any further, he stopped you, “Are you sure this is something you truly want?” His question caught you off guard and you thought back to what you were told by one of your ladies in waiting. “Of course I want this, I want to be with you” you whispered to him. He smiled, kissing you gently, “Do you know what is to happen?” you nodded silently, “I have been told… however I did not enjoy the part where my head is to hit the wall repeatedly” he let out a low laugh and caressed the back of your head, “That okay my love, we can stop that.” You took note of how his eyes crinkled at the side as he leaned down and kissed you.

You pulled away, reaching to start to unbutton your night dress, “I fear I may have made a wrong choice of wardrobe” you said as you struggled with the various buttons. He shook his head, “no do not worry about it, I’m very good with buttons.” His hands followed yours as he pulled you closer to him, lips pressing against the sides of your neck. With little effort he popped the buttons down your night dress. A small moan escaped from your throat as Heeseung continued to trail kisses down your neck, biting and sucking gently. Slipping the dress off your shoulders and allowing it to fall on the floor leaving you completely exposed. He leaned back, admiring you, “you are beautiful, you are everything I imagined you to be and more…” your ears began to ring, and you felt the heat crawl up your neck. You thanked him with a kiss, running your hands up his sides sliding them under the top of his unbuttoned shirt, slipping it off his shoulders. “As are you” he shook his head, turning and softly pushing you down onto the plush bed, “I can simply never match your beauty, you are ethereal.” His statement made your heart race. Your breath quickened as Heeseung once again began kissing down your neck, hands gripping harshly at your sides, “you are ever so perfect my love.”

You let out a whiny moan hands coming up and gripping his hair as you reflexively arched into his touch. His lips found their way to your chest. Another soft moan escaped your lips as his hot mouth wrapped around your pert nipple, his other hand coming up and gingerly tweaking the other one. It was a new sensation to you, one that sent shockwaves of heat throughout your body. You bit your lip letting out small puffs of air but concealing your moans. Heeseung’s eyes trailed up to meet your as he switched from one nipple to the other, “Do not hide your beautiful sounds from me I wish to hear them. To know that I am making you feel the upmost pleasure.” You nodded silently a gasp leaving your mouth as you felt his hand train from your breast and down to your thighs. Heeseung had stopped his assault on your chest and nipples; allowing himself to slide further down into the bed. You felt the same surge of heat flood through you. Both of his hands fell onto your thighs, gently pushing them apart and exposing you to him. You shivered as his fingers gently spread your folds. Without holding back, he licked up from your entrance mouth circling around your clit and sucking on it harshly. Your hips jolted, hot pleasure brining through you at the new sensation. A whine left your throat as your hands ran through his hair pulling on it. Heeseung moaned against you, dipping his tongue into you and savoring your taste on his tongue.

Slowly he begins to trail his hands up and down the inside of your thighs before slipping two fingers inside of you focusing his efforts back on your clit. The stretch of his fingers is a bit uncomfortable but still pleasurable. He waits to let you adjust to the feeling before slowly starting to thrust them. A gasp leaves you at the feeling. Clenching down on his fingers you start to follow his movements, pleasure seeping into every limb as you pull at his hair. With a breathy moan you cum, legs trying to close at the newfound feeling. Heeseung’s hand grips your thigh, forcing your legs to stay open as he licks up what he can of your arousal.

Heeseung moves back up in the bed, pulling his fingers from you and sticking them in his mouth. Your face burns at the sight, Slowly Heeseung pulls of his pants, your eyes trail downwards to his exposed cock. It was long and hard, leaking precum and red, slowly Heeseung starts grinding gently against you, “Are you doing okay my love?” he asked, his voice gentle and caring. You let out a nod slightly spent from the previous orgasm, Heeseung shook his head, “No, I need words dear.” Breathing heavily, you once again nodded, “Yes, yes, I am doing so good please continue.” Heeseung nodded, bending over to give you a deep kiss. Slowly he lined himself up, rubbing his tip against your clit before he pushed into you, although he had thoroughly stretched you out there was still a slight burn. Your hands moved up to grip his shoulders, nails digging into them as he stopped moving, allowing you time to adjust. After a brief pause, he looked down at you, waiting for you to allow him to continue, you pulled him down, giving him another kiss, “I think I am okay now...” you mumbled against his lips. He nodded, gripping your thigh and pulling your leg up onto his waist pulling out slightly before thrusting in again. After a few experimental thrusts he started to speed up. With a loud moan you through your head back, mouth open and hands gripping tightly at him. “You look so beautiful, so perfect for me” he huffed continuing to bury himself deep inside you. You whine, eyes clenched shut in pleasure. “You feel so good wrapped around me” he groaned, thrusting relentlessly into your velvety walls. You moaned loudly, small pleads of pleasure leaving your lips. “You’re going to look so good with my seed dripping out of you, humm would you like that my queen?”

His filthy words draw you closer to your impending orgasm. You nod, your brain fuzzy, the only thing on your mind was the way his thick cock dragged against your walls. A loud moan rips from your throat as you clench around him again, “That’s it my love, cum, cum for me beautiful” Heeseung whispers, moaning lowly. You orgasm rushes over you, and with one last thrust from Heeseung he comes as well, painting your walls white with his seed, dripping and causing a mess. You trembled coming down from your high, cringing at the feeling of sweat and hair sticking to your body but stayed beneath Heeseung anyway. He gave you a final gentle kiss before pulling out and lying next to you, arms wrapping around you and pulling you tightly into his chest allowing you to lay your head down on his chest. “You were absolutely perfect y/n.” You smiled stretching your neck and giving him a short but sweet kiss as a thank you before you finally relaxed in his arms, the both of you falling asleep in a pile of intertwined limbs.

The next morning you woke up alone. You got up from bed feeling slight discomfort as your lady’s maid came in to help you bathe once again and get dressed for the day. As your maid scrubbed you down in the tub, she looked at you with a pained smile. “I was informed to let your majesty know that the Kings mother has arrived and will be staying for the day.” You clinched your teeth together simply nodding and allowing her to finish washing you off. As your maid tightened the corset and placed you in the large, elegant dress you couldn’t help but space out. You wondered by you mother-in-law would choose now of all days to visit you. It was no secret, the things she said of you, but even so you did not imagine that she would go as far as to hound you in your own home. Walking down the large hall you had a wide smile on your face. Looking in each room for your husband your footsteps softened as you heard his booming voice, followed by the screech of his mother.

You were brought back to the day you found out you were to be married, sneaking around and peaking from the corner of the doorframe you listened to them intently. “I have done everything you asked. You asked me to get married. I let you choose, and I got married. You asked me to stay away from her and keep hidden for as long as I could, and so I did. You asked that I bed her and try for an heir and so I did. What more could you want from me?” He yelled sharply, clearly trying to maintain his composure. “I want results, I want the next heir and I want news of her falling pregnant soon. You are to remain here and continue to try until we get the next king to this country.” You could hardly hear her reply as your heartbeat thumped in your ears. Utterly heartbroken and angry you stepped into the door frame, pushing it open wider. Heeseung looked at you, his face falling as he realized you had been standing there for far too long; hearing all the things he had to say about you and his thoughts on your relationship. “Y/n- “Before he continued you cut him off; breathing in deeply, you started to speak, turning towards him and bowing down, “I apologize your majesty, As I must have misunderstood our situation and the way you truly felt about me. Now that I know I will refrain from seeking companionship with you.” Yu looked towards your mother-in-law and bowed again, “I will of course continue to try for an heir, I will not fail. I will perform my duty as it has been laid out for me.” His mother looked satisfied with your answer, nodding her head and looking between the two of the, “Well at least she is not completely useless or incompetent.” Hearing the spiteful comment from your mother-in-law, you turned on your heel and walked out of the room.

By nightfall his mother had left, and you and Heeseung were alone. He had tried to talk to you several times throughout the day, but you had simply ignored him stating that you would see him the next time you were to try for an heir. As the weeks dragged on you had been trying. Eventually the day after next it was time for you to once again try for a heir. You found yourself walking into the bathroom as Heeseung was taking a bath. Stripping yourself of your bed coat you stood in front of him. Quickly he told his footman to get out. “Just get in…” he demanded, and you followed. Dropping down on top of him in the tub you pulled his face to yours, connecting your lips in a hot kiss. His hands found their way to your thighs rubbing up them and lifting your now soaking dress. You felt him harden as you ran your lips down his neck grinding down gently. Heeseung sucked in a breath allowing his head to fall back and for you to continue your ministrations. You had never been this confident before, Heeseung just had to wonder where it came from. Before long he found himself wanting even more of you. Stopping you from going further down his chest he gripped your chin, bringing your lips back up to meet his as he untired your bed coat. His fingers went back to your thighs, ghosting across them and then into your dress, pulling it over your head and throwing it to the floor. Grabbing at his hard cock in the water you line him up to your entrance, sinking down onto him with a brief pause.

No matter how many times you have done this the slight stretch is always there. A moan rips from Heeseung’s throat as you begin to ride him, bouncing up and down quickly. Your own moans were just as loud, acting as music to Heeseung’s ears. His fingers dig into your hips allowing him to set the pace. Your thighs started to burn as Heeseung slowed down your bouncing, kissing you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth, “You’re so perfect for me,” he praised moving one hand down in between your legs, fingers pressing harshly against your sensitive clit, rubbing it in small circled. A high-pitched moan left your lips, as your hips jolted slightly from the pleasurable friction, “Heeseung please” you begged quietly already feeling your orgasm impending as your legs had begun to shake. Heeseung didn’t stop, “You do not have to ask my dear go ahead, come for me” he moaned out into your ear, starting to thrust up into you faster. You whined, clenching tightly around him, as you came his fingers still rubbing on your clit. Heeseung followed shortly after you, his warm cum filling you up and leaking down his cock.

Panting heavily, you collapsed on top of him, sighing at the relief of your burning thighs, allowing yourself to relax into the now cold bath. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head, “I’ve missed this you know; I’ve missed the intimacy between the two of us…” he mumbled. You nodded your head, “As have I but it is not my fault that it had disappeared” Heeseung let out a sigh nodding his head as he place it on top of yours, “I am aware and for that I am sorry. I am always so caught up in who I must be as a king I forget that somedays I can just be Heeseung and no one else.” You gave his neck a gentle kiss, “It is okay, let us just move on, what has happened has happened and there is nothing we can do about that. It is what happens from here that matters now.” You spoke softly into his neck. “Oh, how wise you are my dear queen.” He praised you as he pulled away to get out of the tub. ‘As much as I love laying here with you, we must get out, it is rather late, and I fear I do not like the feeling on my fingers and toes wrinkling.” You agreed with his statement allowing him to get out of the tub and dry off, dressing himself in clothes that were already laid out, before he came back to help you. Ever so gently he pulled you out of the tub, wrapping you in a bath towel and drying you off gently. His eyes fell to your soaking dress on the floor, “I fear that you may not be able to wear that one again tonight my queen.” You giggled at his response. “And who shall be at fault if not you my king,” he smiled widely at you, “Nevertheless I do agree, I shall call for a new one.” After a short wait a maid brought you a new dress, helping you change. Heeseung took you into his arms, walking you to his room and laying you down on the bed, joining you shortly after. “Stay with me tonight please?” He asked. You simply nodded, allowing yourself to lay in his arms as you finally dozed off.

You were awoken by the sound of a crash coming from outside the palace, in the garden. You looked around the room noticing Heeseung was nowhere to be found. Hastily you jumped out of bed, putting on your bed coat and walking out to the palace garden. There you found Heeseung stripped naked in the rose garden, rocking back and forth quietly singing about the planets to himself, hands out in front of him as if playing an imaginary piano. You knew he had been going through something over the past few weeks, but you could have never imagined it to end with him like this. His footman was standing in front of him, trying to get ahold of his attention. As you approached them his footman turned to you, “You should be inside your majesty the king would not like you to see him like this.” You shook your head at him, “Absolutely not. I will not abandon my husband in his time of need.” You made your way closer, pushing the footman out of the way and crouching down in front of Heeseung grabbing his hands. “Venus has gone away, will she come out to play?” You heard his quiet singing. “Heeseung, Heeseung my love, are you okay?” His eyes finally found their way towards you. You smiled at him, moving a hand to caress his face. He shakes your hand away from his, grabbing your face, “Venus you are not in the sky, have you come to play with me?” You bit your lip at his question shaking your head. “It’s me Heeseung. It’s Y/n. I’m your wife.” He smiles widely, laughing loudly, “Yes of course you’re my y/n. You are way too beautiful to just be Venus. She could never hold a candlelight to you, my dearest.” His ramblings brought you worry but you kept calm for his sake. “Of course, and you are my dear husband, Venus has gone away, so we must go inside now.” Heeseung nodded in agreement. You pulled him up and took off your bed coat, wrapping it around him and leading him to the bathroom. You instructed his footman to bring you water and a cloth. When his footman came back with the warm bucket of water you gently scrubbed the dirt off Heeseung, assisting in getting him dressed and back in bed. You turned to look at Heeseung’s footman once you got him settled, “You must make sure that none of this leaves the palace grounds. Make up what excuse you have too but no one must know.” His footman nodded bowing to you with a quick, “Yes Ma’am.” before he left. Laying down next to Heeseung you gently stroked his hair back, kissing the top of his head, begging whatever deity would listen that he would be okay in the morning.

When morning finally came you once again woke up alone. You got a dreadful feeling as you got flashbacks to the last time you had woken up alone after sleeping with Heeseung. You had hoped that today would be better for the both of you. You also had hoped that Heeseung might finally be open about what he was going through. Making your way to the dining room a shy smile came over your face as you noticed he was sitting down at the table. You sat down as you were served your breakfast. “Are you doing well this morning?” you asked him quietly. His head snapped up from looking down at his tea, “You must already know the answer to that.” He stated. You nodded your head, “I do but it never hurts to ask, you gave me quite a fright last night. I was worried about you.” He looked you up and down, trying to find any sign that you were lying and stayed silent. Finishing up your breakfast you gave him a nod, deciding not to say anything else and allow him to sit in silence. Before getting up to leave you cleared your throat, “I have an appointment with the doctor today, so we shall see if anything comes of it.” Heeseung remained silent as you left. In that moment he knew that if you were to have finally fallen pregnant, he would have to make himself start to visit his doctor again. He would have to get himself under control, no more episodes and no more mod swings. Shortly after your doctor’s appointment word reached Heeseung that you were indeed pregnant. When he read the letter, he felt his heart stop. His heart hurt for you and for your future child. However, it also swelled with joy, as hard as adapting to this marriage has been he was so proud to finally have something to share with just you. As for you, you were elated with the news. You had finally achieved what was thought to be your only role in life and you could not wait for your baby to come.

It has been several weeks since you got news back from the doctor regarding your pregnancy. You knew he hadn’t been back to his observatory, but he had seldom been seen in the halls of the palace. Now several months pregnant you couldn’t stand not knowing where he was. You had tried sending him letters and even getting Joong to harass Heeseung’s footman to try and find out where he could be hiding. Even through all of that you still had no idea. Though as time went on and a few months passed you began to grow suspicion about the chatter from the servants. You had heard some of them talking about hearing screams being concealed deeply in the underground chambers beneath the main palace for several days and nights. Others talked about how it must have been someone who betrayed the crown, and though you wouldn’t have doubted it, with your husband missing you just had to think otherwise. The rumor mill led you to none other than your mother-in-law. Walking into her large drawing room you ignored the woman that was sitting with her. “Where is he?” you demanded, slapping a hand down on the gold marble table. Your mother-in-law jumped as the sound, giving you a glare before turning to look at the woman sitting with her, “I suppose we will have to catch up some other time, I fear the queen’s pregnancy has gotten to her.” The other woman let out a giggle, muttering something about having been there before as she curtsied and walked out of the room, allowing the servants to close the heavy wooden door behind her. “You must’ve lost your manners, girl” she hissed at you, “You have no right to demand to see the king, let alone know where he is. It is none of your concern.” You clenched your jaw, teeth grinding down against each other as you huffed out, “No right? No right, you say. I have every right, even more so than you. I have every right to demand to know where my husband is and what he is doing. I have every right to see him!” Your mother-in-law simply shook her head, “He would not want you to know where he is.” She sucked in another breath but before she could begin to talk again you cut her off. “I know. I know that the king is mad, I know that he is sick.” Anger flared in your mothers-in-law eyes as he looked at you, “The king is not, and I repeat, is not mad. He is simply burdened.” You shook your head. Voice breaking as you spoke, “You do not understand, I know that he is, I have seen it firsthand. Yet I choose to love him anyway, I choose to stay by his side.” As much as this woman had hurt you, made you feel inferior and alone you couldn’t bear to see her do the same to your husband, her own son. “So please, I will do what I must but please let me see him.” However, it seemed as though your pleads had fallen on deaf ears as your mother-in-law walked away. You only had one other option, to go to Heeseung’s footman and convince him yourself.

Following a short ride to the main palace you met Heeseung’s footman. You glared at him as Joong helped you out of the carriage you had arrived in, being extra careful of your pregnant belly. “I am demanding to see the king.” You spoke out calmly. Heeseung’s foot man looked at you. Before he could begin speaking back you shook your head, “I am demanding to see the king. As your queen you are required to allow me to see him. As his right hand and aide, you are sworn to protect him. With that being said, you must take me to the king.” Heeseung’s footman sighed, not saying a word but casting a long glance to a lone cellar door on the side of the building. Without saying another word, you took off, Heeseung’s footman and Joong following closely behind you. “Your majesty you mustn’t enter there, he does not wish for you to see him in this state.” The footman pleaded with you. “He is my husband; I shall see him in whatever state I wish.” You responded as you threw open the cellar door. Immediately after its opening you heard terrifying screams, one that could only be riveled by women in labor. Quickly making your way down the three small steps and into the leaky dark cellar you followed the sounds of the screams. They become louder and more deafening as you near a door at the end of the long tunnel, light being cast through the cracks. The guards outside of the door moved to stop you, nearly grabbing you up before Joong or Heeseung’s footman came to stop them. Silently the guards turned to Heeseung’s footman with questioning glances. The footman sighed, “Let the queen in, she wishes to speak with the king.” Without any further instructions the doors were pushed open by the two guards. The sight of the room made you sick. It was dirty and there were rats and roaches everywhere. Just barely standing in front of a throne-like chair in the middle was Heeseung, head down and nodding out. His feet were plunged into a vat of steaming water. He was clothed in simple white sleeping bottoms, a thick sheen of sweat covering him as his hair stuck down to his forehead. The palace doctor stood over him, two electrodes in hand and a sick smirk on his face, while two more guards held him up by his arms. The doctor pushed the electrodes into Heeseung’s skin, causing him to scream out in agony. You let out a curdled scream, causing all the men, apart from Heeseung to look over at you. “Release the king this instant!” You demanded, edging closer to the men. The doctor let out a hiss, demanding you to be removed. “No, I demand that you release the king. I am your Queen, and as such you will do as I say or face the consequences.” The guards holding Heeseung up let him go, allowing him to stumble out of the vat of water. You moved quickly, allowing him to fall into you. He looked up, eyes hazy, “y/n my love is that you” His voice was hours no doubt due to the torture he had endured. You nodded, whispering out a small yes as you stroked his head, “Just rest, it’s okay, you’re okay now” You spoke softly to him. Heeseung’s eyes closed as he finally allowed himself to completely nod out. You looked towards Joong and Heeseung’s footman signaling for them to take him. They did so quickly, carrying him out to the carriage with you not far behind. The doctor ran out following behind you, “Your majesty you must understand. All I was doing was trying to cure him.” You whipped around at the careless doctor’s comment, “Cure him? What exactly were you trying to cure? He is just fine as he is. He is a great king and husband. You should be lucky if you are allowed to practice medicine in this country ever again. I’ll have you tried for your crimes against the crown, and it will only be by the king’s hand whether you make it out alive. So, whatever it is you supposably tried to cure him of you best hope he is grateful for it.” You threatened him, before returning to the carriage and being taken home with Heeseung at your side.

It had been several days since you had dragged Heeseung out of the dungeon that the deranged doctor kept him locked in. Your due date was coming up soon and you were stressed and worried about him. You knew that he blamed himself for the way you found him, no doubt from the manipulation of the doctor. Your mother-in-law had continued to tell you to leave him be and allow him to stay by himself, but you simply could not bear the thought that he was alone and hurting. So, when night fell, and your mother-in-law retired for bed you and Joong set out for the observatory. The giant doors scratched the marble floor as they opened. Walking in you spotted Heeseung, much like he was the first time you found him here, shirtless with things scattered all around him, newly minted scars forming on his upper body. “Is there a reason you have yet to return home?” you questioned hands coming up around your obviously showing bump. Heeseung looked at you, eyes wide. He stayed silent for a moment and shook his head, “Nothing that is a concern of yours. You need to leave Y/n” he spoke coldly. You mimicked him shaking your head “No. Not until you tell me you do not love me” Heeseung opened his mouth, ‘What does that have to do with anything?” You stared at him incredulously, “It has everything to do with it. I have heard you say that you wish for me to go, that you wish for me to leave, even going as far to say that you wish we had never married. But you have never said that you do not love me. If you truly do not, then tell me. Because if you do love me then I will continue to come here, every day to bring you home.” Heeseung’s face fell, frown becoming deeper. Instead of letting him speak you continued, “Well what do you have to say? Tell me? Tell me you do not love me, and I will go. I will never return; I will have our baby on my own and only come around when my position calls for another one. We can spend the rest of our lives apart.” Heeseung’s eyes clouded, and he stood from his position, drawing closer to you. “My heart is only for you; it calls your name day and night. It yearns for you whenever you are away. I cannot breathe without you here. I have loved you, desperately, so from the moment I first seen you in the garden. You are the only one for me, but you don’t need my broken parts. You don’t need the me that cannot give you a perfect man to love.” Your head snapped up as you responded “And do you believe that mine does not? Do you truly believe that I would not love every single part of you? Do you think so lowly of me?” Heeseung cuts you off, “Of course I do not think lowly of you, you are the most magnificent person I have ever had the pleasure to known. But- “you shook your head, grabbing him and pulling him to you, being careful of you protruding belly, “Then that is all we need to know, I love you and you love me.” Kissing him deeply you speak again, “I will forever be by your side, I will love you through your good days; and I will love you through your bad ones too. I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you, all of you, if you let me.” Tears cloud your eyes as you stare up at him, blinking them away they trail down your face. Heeseung looks at you, face fallen and eyes sad. He snakes his hands up to your face, wiping your tears away, “Only if you let me do the same.” With a nod you kiss him deeply again, hugging him tightly to you as his arms wrap around you. Finally, you feel at ease with being in his arms.

The day had finally came. Sharp pains shot through you as you laid down in bed, your lady’s maid beside you gripping onto your hand tightly. Another lady’s maid sat at the end of the bed, instructing you to keep your legs up and opened as she carefully checked on the baby. You heard your husband screaming at someone for a doctor, telling them that is what you needed. With each second the searing pain became worse, crying, you called out to your husband. In a matter of seconds, he came barreling through the door a doctor in tow. The doctor took over for the lady’s maid down at the foot of your bed, proving his own check and giving your husband a nod. Heeseung kneeled at your side, allowing you to grip his hand as hard as you needed. Effectively taking place of the First Ladies maid. “You are doing splendid my darling, there is no need to be panicked. Just relax my dear girl, relax.” Heeseung hummed into your sweat drenched hairline, placing a gentle kiss when he finished, “Just give it time, our child will soon see the world all thanks to you.” You gave him a halfhearted smile before another scream of pain left you. The doctor took a deep breath, “your majesties, it is time. You need to start pushing. The baby is ready.” With a nod you started, the pain becoming worse than before. Heeseung sat by you the entire time and made sure you were taken care of after the birth. When you were finally done the doctors and ladies maids took the baby and cleaned him up. Several minutes later you were met with your newborn being laid out in your chest. You smiled at Heeseung, looking over and seeing his eyes filled with so much love and joy. It was at that moment you knew that you would do anything for the two of them. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

Only seven months after your first baby had you gotten pregnant with another one. You and Heeseung were very excited. You were happy to say the least that your little family kept growing with nothing but love and support. One day you were in the garden, watching as Heeseung threw around weeds and dead flowers, helping with the landscaping. Your now five children had sat below you at your feet begging for a story. You giggled and picked up your oldest, nuzzling into him causing him to giggle back. “Now have I ever told you about the princess and the king?” You asked knowing what the several children’s answers would be. Little hands raised up as they all nodded, “yes yes but we want to hear it again!” Their little voices boomed across the garden. Heeseung head peaks up, nodding to you as he came and took a seat down next you. “Well, you see there was this beautiful princess who was set to get married. She was deathly afraid that her new husband was going to be a troll or a beast,” you started, sniffing your laughter. Heeseung rolled his eyes gently before continuing with your story, “but before she could escape, the king had found her trying to go over the garden wall.” “Of course, the princess didn’t know it was him at first and even tried to get him to help her escape” you interrupted him. The children nodded along with the story, their smiles becoming wider as they watched you and Heeseung stare at each other. Heeseung took ahold of your hand as he continued the story, “but it was too late, as it was from that moment that the king knew she would be very special to him and he to her. He knew that she would be the one thing to save him from all else” Heeseung eyes glanced around the children taking in their wide and beautiful smile as he kissed the back of your hand.

Sure, your story was not perfect. It was filled with ups and downs, tragedy and pain. But over everything else it was true and the love you held for one another would never die. It was an eternal flame flickering even in the strongest of winds. It was the light that peaked out of the door at the end of a dark and damp corridor. It was hiding together and living together. It was understanding and compassionate. But most importantly it was yours and that’s all that truly mattered.

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

❀❀❀ taglist (for enha as a bridgerton story) - @lol6sposts @signed-manny @peonywon @rayofsunshineeee @renchai @lwavander @jaeyunzlovr @eneiyri @moonchild-moonfairy @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @strxwbloody @yeonjinnie @firstclassjaylee @laurradoesloveu @smouches @baekxo07 @channiesdarling @microwavedstrawberr1es @jjaeyuns @penny44224 @sseishiross @heesitation @jakedoxxenvasion @jaklvbub @sunus-sun @sunwoniie @hybeboyenthusisast @dollschan @randomanothercreature @nctislifue @nanaheex @addictedtohobi @wolfhardbby @papichulomacy @monstaxdirtywonk @koizekomi @august25 @yaksokhaley @sofesyoongi @pinkkami @peytonthedino @onlyseungkwans @hotchwheels @icedtealeaf (i think i got everyone lmk if i missed you!!)

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sunny44 · 3 months

Text

Co-parenting (Part 3)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x ex!reader

Warnings: medical center, cuts…

Summary: Co-parenting is never easy but y/n never thought it would be so hard.

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Max and I haven't been able to go on that date yet. The first time, he had to cancel because he had to go to Milton Keynes for a meeting, and the second time, I had to cancel because Maeve and I got sick and I didn't want to go and risk getting him sick too.

But after several weeks we finally managed to schedule a day, and it would be today. Maeve is going to spend the whole weekend with Carlos, which would be great because even if he hadn't, I would keep my promise to introduce them only if it was someone I knew would stay in my life longer.

But he was late, and I was getting nervous because I had asked Carlos to pick her up at seven because Max would come to pick me up at seven-thirty. And besides not wanting Carlos to see him, obviously, I didn't want Maeve to see him either.

I heard knocks on the door and ran there to see Carlos.

"I know, I know, I'm late and I'm sorry. I had to wait for the plumber to fix a pipe that was flooding my apartment and he was late, and then I got stuck in traffic, and..."

"It's okay, just hurry up." I shouted for Maeve to come quickly and handed him the backpacks.

"Why the rush and why are you all dressed up?"

At that moment, Max parked, and I panicked. He got out of the car and was smiling until he saw Carlos and stopped smiling.

"Why is he here?" I didn't know what to say. "Are you going out with him? Is that why you wanted me to leave quickly? So that I wouldn't see you going out with Verstappen?"

"It's not because of that."

"Then why?" I didn't say anything. "Answer my fucking question."

"I didn't want Maeve to see, okay? Because I stick to our agreements, she doesn't need to know that I'm going out with someone, and neither do you."

"But why him?"

"Because he invited me and I wanted to." He laughed. "Look, I don't have to give you any explanations. Focus on taking care of our daughter and I’ll deal with my live life ok?" At that moment, she appeared.

"Sorry, I couldn't find Mr. Bibbles." She said, hugging her stuffed rabbit. "Can we go Daddy?"

"Yes baby." He picked her up, and they went to the front, and luckily Max had returned to his car when Carlos passed with Maeve in his arms.

"I'm sorry; I didn't know he would be here."

"It's okay, he was supposed to arrive earlier but got delayed. Neither you nor he were supposed to see each other.”

“You didn’t want him to know that you were going out with me?”

“Carlos and I have an agreement about relationships and I didn’t want him nor Maeve to know about it right now.”

"What kind of agreement?"

“We don't introduce anyone to Maeve without the other being aware, and not with a short amount of time in the relationship, you know? We don't want to put someone in her life just for that person to leave without explanation."

"I understand."

"Our separation was amicable but also difficult; she was small and doesn't remember, but she doesn't quite understand why her friends at school have parents together and she's the only one who doesn't."

"It's okay, you don't need to explain to me." He says kindly. "I can imagine how difficult it is to raise a child, and I also understand what it's like to be the child of divorced parents; I know you're doing the best you can for her."

"Thank you."

"Well, shall we go to our date? They say the third time's the charm." I laughed and went inside to grab my purse and my phone, locked the house and went to his car.

...

The date was great; he made me laugh a lot, and I hadn't had that much fun in a long time.

I felt light, and I felt like I could be myself without being defined only as Carlos's ex or as a mother; I could be myself again.

"Just a minute." My phone started ringing, and I saw it was Carlos. "Hello?"

"I'm sorry; I took my eyes off her for 1 minute, and..." I immediately got up.

"What happened?"

"Maeve and I are at the hospital."

"Which hospital?" I grabbed my purse and started walking towards the exit, and Max came along.

…

“What happened?"

"She was on the couch with me watching a movie and she asked me for a juice box when I went to get it, she started jumping on the couch and when I heard a loud noise, I went back, and she had fallen and hit her head on the table." He spoke quickly. "I'm really sorry; I..."

"It's okay."

"It's not; she cut her head and had to get stitches. I'm a terrible father."

"Carlos, stop." He looked at me. "These things happen; kids jump on things, they fall, and they get hurt, so stop blaming yourself."

"I was just so scared, and..." I hugged him.

"It's okay, everything will be fine." He hugged me back and relaxed. "What did the doctor say?"

"That it wasn't anything serious and that I did the right thing by bringing her as soon as possible; it could have been worse if she had fallen asleep after hitting her head."

"Okay, let's go in." He went in, and I turned to Max. "I'm sorry for ruining our night."

"You didn't ruin anything; our night was perfect."

"Except when I switched back to mom mode."

"Your daughter got hurt, and you did what any worried mother would do."

"Thank you for bringing me here too."

"You're welcome." He smiled. "I would love to go out again. If you want, of course."

"I would love to. I'll send you a message, and we'll make plans."

"Perfect." He said goodbye, and I went into the room.

"Mommy." I went to her and kissed her forehead.

"Hi, sweetheart, how are you feeling?"

"My head hurts and I'm very sleepy." She gave a little smile and blinked her eyes very slowly.

"It's okay, you can sleep again." I pulled the blanket up to cover her more, and she closed her eyes and was soon asleep, and I sat next to him on the couch there.

"How was your date?"

"We don't need to talk about that."

"I know, it was just a question."

"Let's just focus on her well-being and forget about today." He agreed, and we fell into silence.

And that's how we spent the night at the hospital until we could leave the next morning.

Bonus scene!

“What a wonderful night”

Tag list: @ietss @lightdragonrayne @asplarklysoul @xoscar03 @smdrl @shobaes @evans-dejong @cocoxoxo69 @ggaslyp1 @bingewatche @loaves4me @justdreamersdream @alinacecee

Guys, the names with a line on top is because I couldn’t tag

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macfrog · 1 year

Text

grilled cowboy like me chapter three

part iii of dbf!joel! parts i here and ii here. ask, dear readers, and you shall receive. i do just wanna also add a massive thank you to you guys for all the love on this series. every single like, reblog, reply, etc. means the world to me. i hope you enjoy this next chapter 💚 reader got joel quaking !!! 🥵

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel knows he shouldn't be looking at you the way he is, but you look so pretty on your knees; how can he say no?

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! oral (m receiving), praise kink, jealous/protective joel, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), consumption of alcohol, cursing

word count: 4.6k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You know what he means. He’s in a lot more trouble than you are if you both get caught; he’s your dad’s buddy. He isn’t supposed to be fooling around with his best friend’s daughter. You think over what you’ve gotta be doing to him – all the glances when no one’s looking, the touching, practically fucking begging for him to make you cum earlier. It’s no wonder he’s trying so hard to stop himself every time, no surprise he’s doing all he can not to give in to you. And right then, you realize – That’s exactly what you want him to do.

You spend a few more minutes up in your room before you follow Joel out the door and downstairs. You’re a little flustered, okay? Your dad’s best friend just had you literally wrapped around his fingers, and now you both gotta head off to a friendly neighborhood barbecue you’re supposed to be hosting. All smiles. All, Anyone need a refill? All, No, I haven’t just totally been fooling around with Joel Miller.

The house is empty and voices feed in from the backyard. You push aside the shades and step out onto the bright patio, where a few of your neighbors are sitting. Joel stands between Hank and Rita’s chairs, and you amble over to his side.

You sense his body tensing as soon as you reach him, your shoulder brushing off of his deliberately.

“Hello, my girl,” Rita calls, taking one of your wrists in her frail hands. “I sure am glad to see you back on home turf.”

You smile a little awkwardly, placing a hand on top of hers. “It’s nice to see you, too. How’ve you been?”

“Still livin’, honey, still livin’.”

She lets go of you when Hank takes her up in conversation, and your attention turns back to Joel.

“Busy, huh? Lotta people came.”

“Mhm,” he grunts, taking a step away from you and folding his arms. You eyes skim across the new distance between you both, noting it.

“Joel, your Sarah,” Rita swivels to face him, “she’s home soon, right?”

Joel nods. “The seventeenth.”

Hank gives a nod. “It’ll be a fine summer havin’ both you girls back home.”

Joel shifts awkwardly, his eyes darting around the patio. He spots Bill across the pool, by your dad’s work shed, and excuses himself. You track him as he makes off, and feel your face reddening.

Your dad’s head and shoulders materialize through the sliding door to the kitchen and he calls on you, beckoning you in. You hesitantly wander over, a cloud of shame forming over your head that you hope he can’t see.

“Bill’s beer,” he adds a Coors to a tray filled with glasses and bottles, “Marcia’s iced tea, a Coke for Sam…Joel– Shoot, we ain’t got Joel anythin’. Reckon he’ll touch Coors?”

You flinch at the mention of his name, and instantly try to recover it. “I wouldn’t know, why would I know that?”

Your dad’s hands lift like you’ve aimed a shotgun at him. “Alright, cranky, jeez. Go back to bed, get out the right side this time. Here.”

He lifts the tray and slowly passes it over the island to you, the glass trembling.

“…you remember, now? Bill – beer, Marcia – iced tea, Sam–”

“– Coke, yeah, I got it. Go take a Xanax, dad, your hair’s fallin’ out.”

“And ask Joel what he’s after!” he calls as you slip out of the sliding door.

Marcia sits beside her daughter, Lisa, on the pool loungers. You bend your knees and lower the tray for her to reach her drink.

“Thank you, honey.” She grins gratefully as she lifts it off the shaking tray and you return her smile, then continue on.

Bill is stood at the other end of the garden with Joel, arms crossed, both listening to some story Arthur Kennedy’s telling about a mechanic he works with. Arthur Kennedy always kinda scared you, was always loud and drunk. Your dad and Joel used to deliberately come up with excuses to keep you and Sarah away from him at parties.

This time is no different. You approach the group of men from Joel’s right side, dipping behind his back to stand between him and Bill, safely separated from the raving storyteller.

“He says he’d just oiled it, I said, Benny, that engine’s drier ‘n a nun’s nasty!”

He erupts into a roar of laughter despite the silence of his companions, and you nudge the tray against Bill’s arm.

“Oh, darlin’,” he says, turning to you and giving you an affectionate smile as he lifts the beer. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

You smile back. Bill can be gruff, a bit of a loner, but he’s always had a soft spot for you.

“How you doin’?” he asks, taking a swig.

You nod. “Good. Back workin’ at Sal’s, so…living the dream.”

You can feel Arthur’s stare on you like the hot sun. You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, tray tucked under your elbow against your hip.

“I’ll bet,” Bill says. “He got you workin’ hard?”

“Not really. It’s a pretty quiet store. Uh, Dad wanted me to ask,” you turn to Joel, whose eyes are glued to the ground, “what you’re drinkin’?”

He shakes his head, palm hooked around the back of his neck. “I’ll get my own. Thanks.”

“Aw, c’mon Joelie,” Arthur taunts. You try to avoid looking him in the eye out of fear he’ll take you up on it, but he does it anyways. “Why don’t you just let this pretty little waitress of ours bring you a drink? Since she’s bein’ so sweet ‘n offerin’.”

Your eyes flit to Joel. His jaw is tense, his eyes dark as he stares down Arthur.

“You know what,” he says through his teeth, “I’ll take a Bud. C’mon, you’ll know where they are, right?”

“Wh– We didn’t get any–”

“Be in the fridge, I’ll bet.” He takes your arm and pulls you away from the duo, who resume conversation as you leave.

You’re hauled back into the kitchen so fast that you almost drop Sam’s soda.

“Joel, be careful!”

He lets go of your arm and watches Arthur from the kitchen window. “Scumbag,” he mutters.

“Do you suffer from short-term memory loss?” you ask, throwing the tray onto the counter. “Didn’t we have a whole argument in the store about me not gettin’ Bud?”

“Just had to get you away from him, talkin’ like that. Guy pisses me off,” Joel huffs.

“Who pisses you off?” your dad calls, appearing from the bathroom.

Joel shoots him a look. “Arthur Kennedy. What’s he doin’ here?”

“I couldn’t not invite him; I know he’s a dirtball. You stay away from him.” He points a finger at you.

“Very good,” Joel replies. “Great plan. Make it her problem to keep the pervert off her tail.”

“Pervert?” You scoff.

“You don’t hear him at Frank’s!” Joel rounds on you now, and you raise your eyebrows. “That waitress line wasn’t even half of it.”

Your dad chuckles, patting Joel’s shoulder as he passes. “I’ll keep an eye on it.” He wanders out to the patio.

Joel’s still full of rage. You watch him, not sure whether to move closer or let him calm down on his own.

“I think you’re probably overreacting a little. It was a creepy line, and I won’t be goin’ near him anyways, but it’s fine. I can dodge Arthur Kennedy.”

“Shouldn’t need to. Shouldn’t be put in that position.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of the kitchen counter, palms pressed flat to the surface, shoulders hunched, breathing deep. He looks like a wild bear, like he could rip Arthur Kennedy limb from limb if only he’d just stroll through the sliding door.

You decide to give him some time to cool off.

“I gotta get this Coke to Sam. You good?”

“I’ll be fine,” he snaps, and you take that as your cue to dip.

When you reappear into the sunlight, a pair of hands clamp down on your shoulders, making you jump.

“Hey, stranger!”

“Sam!” you cry, clutching your chest. “You almost gave me a damn heart attack. Here, idiot.”

You hand him the soda, and he tilts it in your direction, a thank-you in the form of a toast.

“I’ve been meaning to drop by Frank’s since I got home, come pay you a visit.”

“I’ll get you a drink on the house when you do.” Sam smiles, blonde fringe gleaming in the sun.

“So, how’s it going?” you ask.

“It’s…going.” He laughs. “Was just talking to Hank about college courses. Figured I might apply. This bartending life is not for me.”

“Do it. Come be a graduate with me. I got a degree, forty grand of debt, and absolutely no prospects!”

Sam laughs. “Nah, you got a brain, you’re gonna work somethin’ out.”

You both take seats by the pool to catch up. Sam’s a nice guy; he was in your circle of friends at school, and, like Anna, always stayed in Austin while you and the rest up and left.

Your dad always thought he had a thing for you, being that he was male and you two were close, and your dad’s an old-fashioned man who doesn’t believe any good can come from two people of opposite genders being friends. But Sam’s a sweet guy, and his being here pushes Joel’s sudden change in behavior a little further back in your mind.

“I’m working later on, so I’m only staying for an hour or so. My mom says hi, by the way.”

“Hi right back. Is she doing okay?”

“Fine! She’s fine. As fine as she can be, I think. Y’know, my dad leaving wasn’t too great. She took it pretty hard. But we’re settled into the new place, she’s doing good. Do you…Did you scratch yourself, or somethin’?”

He points underneath your hair to the side of your neck and your fingers run across the skin, wincing a little over a particular spot under your jaw. A memory flashes before your eyes as the sensitive skin tingles and your eyes instantly lock on the culprit: emerging from the kitchen door, beer in hand, dark eyes scanning the garden for you.

When you lock eyes, he makes a passive expression and wanders off in the opposite direction.

“Uh– No, that’s weird. Well, I had a nap earlier. I might have scratched myself in my sleep, y’know?”

Sam narrows his eyes. He’s twenty-three, dumbass, he’s not an idiot.

You smile sweetly at him and scrape together some reason to excuse yourself, dashing off to the bathroom to examine Joel’s handiwork.

It’s only a little red, probably more noticeable in the sunlight, but still, you grab some concealer and dab it over the mark. Feeling exhausted from running around and pretty pissed off with Joel, you march back outside and throw yourself into a chair beside Hank.

“Your dad knows how to cook a burger,” he tells you, holding a napkin to his mouth. “Delicious.”

“I’ll grab one in a bit. Not really hungry.”

You spend a little time chatting with Hank and Rita, answering their questions about college, telling anecdotes about work, asking about Anna’s makeup business.

“That girl,” Hank shakes his head, “there ain’t no tellin’ her. I’m just her ol’ uptight dad.”

All the while you periodically glance up, across the pool to Joel, and each time, he’s staring right back.

When you get up to grab some food, his eyes follow you. When Sam pulls you in for a hug to say goodbye, he’s watching. When Arthur stumbles over to sit across from Hank, Joel’s figure appears like an apparition at the side of him. Across the table, an appropriate distance away, but keeping an eye on you.

It fills you with equal parts thrill and frustration.

You find yourself laughing extra hard at Bill’s comments, leaning your head on Marcia’s shoulder, leaping to your feet anytime Hank wants a refill, or Rita asks you to light her cigarette. All to get to Joel. All so he has to watch you be unbothered by him for the entire night.

The garden is darker, porch light attracting moths and flies, but a small group of your neighbors sits congregated under blankets on the patio still. You’re talking about New York with Lisa when you notice Joel lean in to your dad across the table.

“I’m gonna head, early start tomorrow,” he says, getting up from his seat.

“You remember your gas tank, Joel,” your dad tells him, nodding over to the grilling station.

“Hey.” You feel a nudge on your shoulder and look up to find his brown eyes looking down into yours. “Give me a hand, would ya? Loadin’ this into the truck.”

“You got it out just fine on your own.”

He calls you by name, and you know from his stern expression he’s serious.

You stand, shaking the blanket from your shoulders, and follow him over to the barbecue. He detaches the tank and picks it up. You wrap your fingers around the handle beside Joel’s, but when the two of you waddle out the back gate, you can feel he has most of the weight.

You reach his truck, shrouded in darkness from the dusk. He hands you the keys from his back pocket and you drop the tailgate, then Joel hoists the tank up by himself and wipes his hands on his jeans.

“What’d you even need me for?”

“Been weird today. Wanted to check you were alright.”

“Are you fucking serious?” You groan. “Are you talking to me or not?”

“Of course I’m talkin’ to ya.”

“Then stop being an asshole, okay? I’m bored of asshole Joel. I want my Joel back.”

He looks at you almost solemnly.

“Look, if you don’t wanna talk about what happened upstairs, we don’t have to, but–”

“’s not that I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Then what is it?”

The floodlight over the garage switches on and your back gate clicks open. Your dad ushers Rita out, coat draped over her shoulders.

“Just walkin’ Rita home,” your dad calls.

“See ya, hon!”

You wave. “Bye, Rita.”

When you turn back, Joel’s making his way toward the truck door.

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” you mutter under your breath, and silently storm back into the house.

You hear his truck pull away as you throw yourself down onto your bed. Fucking livid.

Alright, you agreed nothing happened. But then Joel went and started acting like something totally happened. If anyone had caught on to the way he was acting, they’d for sure know something was up.

The anger rolls around in your stomach; his avoiding you, the way he kicked off when Arthur made that comment, the way his eyes followed you around the garden afterward.

And worst of all, you fucking liked it. You liked him protecting you, didn’t you? You liked the way he couldn’t help himself, had to make sure you were out of reach of any danger. You liked peering over Sam’s shoulder to find his gaze frozen on you.

You sit up, hands either side of your hips on your mattress. You look down and notice what they’re resting on.

Joel’s flannel shirt.

You’re halfway out the door, shirt in your fist, before you even have time to breathe. You run into your dad in the driveway.

“Woah, woah, where we off to?”

“Joel forgot his shirt.”

“I’m sure he can do without it for a few days, kiddo.”

“I’ll just take it back to ‘im,” you call, hopping in your car before he has time to protest.

You’re at Joel’s in five minutes.

Knocking and waiting for him to answer might ruin the argumentative vibe you’re trying to set, so you fling his front door open and walk straight into his hallway.

The house sits in complete darkness, save for a small light flooding in from the room at the end of the hall. You wander up to it and find Joel sat at his kitchen table, staring down at some contract papers on the wood. Aside from the dull light over his head, the kitchen is dark, orange tinge on the walls from the streetlights outside.

He doesn’t flinch when your shoe scuffs his tile floor. Instead, he just flips the papers back over and sighs.

“Subtlety not in your nature, is it, kid?”

“You left this.” You throw the shirt onto the table.

His eyes scan over it. “Thought I told you to keep it.”

“Oh,” you sit down opposite him, “my mistake. I thought you meant keep it until you’d had your way with me. Thought once you’d dumped me I was to hand the flannel back.”

“Dumped you?” He raises his eyebrows, sitting back in his chair. “Hm.”

“Hm?”

“I wasn’t tryin’ to dump you. I didn’t mean for you to feel…dumped.”

“The most you talked to me all afternoon was to give me a grilling about Arthur Kennedy. All you did was stare at me, then ask me to help you carry a gas tank at the very end of the night.”

He scratches his beard, considering what you’re saying.

“I mean, I thought we agreed to act like it didn’t happen,” you continue, “I thought we were fine.”

“Fine? You think what we did was fine?”

You struggle to find words to reply. Sure, it was better than fine. And at the same time, it was a terrible idea.

“We…We were…We were just messing around.”

Joel almost laughs. “Messin’ around.”

“Yeah,” you protest. “I liked it, you looked like you liked it. What’s wrong with it?”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it. If we do this, if we’re ‘messin’ around’…what makes me any different to…to Arthur Kennedy? Hm? Just another creep on the street, hangin’ around and flirtin’ with girls far too young for ‘im?”

“The difference is I actually want you to do it, Joel.”

His expression drops. He stands up, shoving the chair back, and wanders off toward the kitchen counter.

You twist around to watch him. “I want this. And I’m twenty-three fucking years old, I can decide for myself. Arthur is, like, sixty years old, anyway. And he ain’t even a good sixty – he’s all grey, wrinkly skin, greasy hair like he doesn’t know how to work his own shower–”

“Alright, kid, we’re digressin’ here.” Joel waves his hand.

You snap back to reality and shake your head to clear it of Arthur Kennedy’s leathery skin. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s just not a good idea.”

“What’s not?” You stand.

“This. Us. You ‘n me.”

“And did you decide this before or after you fucked around with me in my bedroom?”

Joel sighs, shaking his head and turning away. He places one hand on his hip, the other to the bridge of his nose.

“I mean…” You throw your arms up, finally at breaking point. “What are you doing to me?”

Your tone forces him to turn back. When your expression matches it, he approaches you, gently cupping your face in both hands.

“I’m tryin’ to rein this in a little, baby. I’m tryna be the responsible one here. You know how hard it is not to give in to this? To you?”

You know what he means. He’s in a lot more trouble than you are if you both get caught; he’s your dad’s buddy. He isn’t supposed to be fooling around with his best friend’s daughter.

You think over what you’ve gotta be doing to him – all the glances when no one’s looking, the touching, practically fucking begging for him to make you cum earlier. It’s no wonder he’s trying so hard to stop himself every time, no surprise he’s doing all he can not to give in to you. And right then, you realize –

That’s exactly what you want him to do.

Your head falls limp in his grasp. “Then, stop trying.”

Joel’s eyes trace over your face; down the bridge of your nose, across your lips, over to where your jaw meets his rough hands. He’s tossing the thought of it over in his head like a penny. Only there’s no right answer.

Heads, you call it off, and lose any chance of ever knowing what this is between you guys. Tails, you fall down the rabbit hole; secret, clandestine, forbidden rabbit hole, and risk losing…well, everything.

Is it worth that risk? Just to feel him on you again? To feel his lips across yours, hungry, demanding, his hips grinding into you, his hands all over you, the way he looks at you as you cum for him…

Suddenly, like the realization hits him at the exact same time as it does you, Joel’s eyes darken.

Yeah. It’s fucking worth it.

His grip becomes rough, shifting from your jaw to around your throat. He pulls you toward him, lips connecting, and your hands press against his chest.

His grasp drops, squeezing your hips, before one hand leaves to settle between your legs. He just can’t get enough, can he?

“Uh-uh,” you mumble against his mouth, “you had your taste earlier. It’s my turn.”

You push him back against the counter. He’s staring at you with nothing but lust behind his eyes. Without a word, you sink down, knees hitting the cold tile.

“Baby…” Joel hums when your hands find his belt buckle. You smirk at his voice; you’re too good to be true to him. Like he can’t believe what’s about to happen.

You undo his belt and pull it through the loops, letting it fall to the floor with a clink. Then your fingers undo his jeans, almost tearing them apart by the zipper with your eagerness to see him.

As you pull the denim over his hips, you feel his hand softly rest on the crown of your head. A quick glance up tells you he’s watching every single thing you’re doing, lapping it up like it’s the last thing he’ll ever see.

You can see the bulge through his boxers; it’s big. Bigger than you imagined, even with your hand stuffed down your panties.

You place a gentle kiss to his thigh and pull the waistband of his underwear down, and his cock springs free. You gasp a little at the size of it, feeling your mouth watering at the sight of precum on his tip.

Your hands wrap around it, clutching his girth. You pump him a few times in your hands and he tips his head back, mouth agape. His free hand grips the counter, steadying himself.

His tip oozes more precum and you wrap your lips around it, sucking gently. Joel groans, audibly. The most audible you’ve heard him yet. It drives you insane.

You push your lips down his shaft, his cock filling up your mouth to your throat before you even reach the bottom. You push down as far as your throat will allow before releasing him with a pop, saliva mixed with Joel all over your lips.

“Good girl,” he’s mumbling, eyes still screwed shut, hand still knotting in your hair.

You drag your tongue along the underside of his dick, closing your eyes. All you can think is Joel, all you can taste, smell, and breathe is him. Completely dumb for this man, cock stretching your mouth so good.

When you take him in down to your throat again, he begins moving his hips; fucking your mouth. You steady yourself, hands on his upper thighs, and let him, trying not to lower your hand to your cunt to relieve the ache quickly growing there.

The sounds he’s making are enough to make you cum by themselves. He’s panting, moaning, breathing your name, groaning whenever your cheeks hollow and you suck until he’s so close he pulls you off.

“Wanna take my time, baby. You’re doing so good.”

You pull him back into your mouth. He tastes like sweat and salt and Joel. He tastes perfect.

When he bumps the back of your throat and you gag a little, you notice Joel’s head snap down to check on you. His grip on your hair loosens, and you softly gaze back at him, eyes blown with lust, to let him know you’re okay.

You drag your lips off of his head, a string of saliva still linking your mouth to his reddened tip. You’re panting now, half-turned on, half-tired from accommodating the size of him between your jaw.

Your palms wrap around his length again, pumping and twisting slowly while your tongue flicks over his head. He grits his teeth, both hands now against the countertop, knuckles whitening the longer you go on.

When you let go of him and dip your head down to take his whole cock in your throat, he lets out a deep groan.

“Keep goin’, baby, keep doin’ that,” he’s groaning, your head bobbing up and down. “Don’t fuckin’ stop.”

His hand falls to the back of your head and he applies a little pressure, fucking into you again.

When you begin to feel him jerk, you lean back, hands helping him to his high as you hold his head to your bottom lip.

Joel’s hand never leaves your head as his cock twitches, filling your throat and coating your tongue in warm, salty cum. He’s calling your name, breath heaving and hips shuddering.

His length slides out of your mouth. When his orgasm subsides, he watches you lick your lips and swallow his load, before tucking his softening dick under his boxers and pulling his jeans back up.

You watch in a distant haze of ecstasy as Joel does his pants up himself and takes your chin in his hand.

Breathing heavy, you look up at him, eyes hooded. Waiting for permission to stand.

“C’mere,” he whispers, and your tired legs hoist you back up to height.

He envelops you in his arms, placing a kiss to your forehead and letting you lean into his chest.

You let your eyes fall closed as you breathe each other in.

“So good to me,” Joel mumbles against your forehead, and you lazily smile.

You could let him carry you up to his bed and fall asleep right then and there, you think. That is, until you hear your phone vibrating on the table.

“Fuck,” you groan, and Joel releases you from his grasp.

“Just makin’ sure you ain’t dead,” your dad chirps down the line.

“I’m still at Joel’s,” you reply, “just leavin’.”

“Don’t you be keepin’ him, you hear?”

You pretend not to, and get him off the phone as quickly as possible. When you turn back around, Joel’s stood with a smirk on his face.

“Go on. Don’t want to make him suspicious.”

You skip over and place a kiss to his lips, and he runs a hand through your hair.

“Like I said, we’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Just messing around,” he says.

----------

As you approach the front door, you pause for a second and compose yourself. Glance in the window to check your reflection, take a deep breath. The last thing you need right now is your dad noticing something’s different.

He’s sitting in the recliner watching baseball highlights when you stumble in. He doesn’t turn to look at you as you dive straight for the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water.

“Hey there. Joel get his precious shirt back?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. Just couldn’t be bothered with it lying around my room.”

He hums absentmindedly. You stand by the kitchen island chugging the water, avoiding conversation with him and looking for an excuse to dismiss yourself to bed.

“Hey,” he says after a bit, “did you find the burgers too…salty?”

You choke on your drink. “The– Too– What?”

“The burgers. Not sure if I over-seasoned ‘em. Were they salty?”

“No. They were fine. They were fine.”

Dizzy with adrenaline, you feign sleepiness and bid him goodnight. When you reach your room and collapse onto your bed, your phone buzzes.

Your eyes scan over the text; your heart skips and you feel a flutter just south of your belly button.

Joel: You free Sunday?

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tag list: @yvonneeeee @brittmb115 @subconsciouscollapse (let me know if u wanna be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal #cowboy like me

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sarahisslytherin · 3 months

Text

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁.

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

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

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

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

Dearest,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl

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

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kquil · 16 days

Text

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER THREE

03 : SHOPPING (2/2)

CHPT. SUM. : so many stores are left on the list, the boys finally eat delicious food outside, detours are a natural endeavour and you meet a collection of interesting shopkeepers. what a day~

LENGTH : 10k

TAGS : fluff ; fun day out ; sirius and regulus being precious ; they're just kids ; reader is mother of the year ; reverse comfort ; OC ; visions ; original walburga makes an appearance ; she doesn't stay long though ; money isn't a problem ;) ; domestic fluff ; sibling fluff between sirius and regulus ; marauders fix-it-fic

← PREV. | 02 : SHOPPING (1/2) | SERIES M.LIST

“Two what?” Sirius asks, your attention snapping towards him and breaking contact with the grey-haired man standing before you.

“Do you need a new wand too, Mother?” Regulus speaks up from your other side, swiftly following after his older brother. It was clear from the differences in their elocution that they differed greatly. One was much louder, with a sharp tongue and an audacious attitude to boot; the other was of a more gentle demeanour, equipped with a clever mind and observant eyes.

Mr Ollivander leans back with an amused smile waiting to see how you’d react and whose question you’d answer first.

“The two of us need wands today, Sirius,” you hum, hoping your nerves don’t show through in your voice as you switch between the two. It was adorable how similar their curious looks appeared when staring up at you.

“Why is that?” your eldest asks curiously, the question reflecting similarly in your youngest’s eyes.

“My wand appears to be having some problems lately and, well,” you raise your gaze to meet eyes with the wand artisan behind the counter, “I was hoping Mr Ollivander could help the two of us today,” the light streaming in from the windows above reflects off Ollivander’s grey hair to create a glowing outline encircling him. His peculiar portrait reminds you of how idiosyncratic he is, like a living ghost who’s able to touch superior levels of magic and wonder. It's mysteriously intriguing but just as harrowing too. He was able to deduce so much after so short of an interaction, after all. You stare at him silently, a gentle prompt to help you and your eldest son with your homogenous need for a new wand.

“I like to focus on one client at a time,” the look he gives you offers up the decision of who should go first to be made by your small family.

Before you can say anything, Sirius speaks up with a light dusting of pink on his cheeks, “Ladies first, Mother,” he announces politely and your heart melts at his consideration. You coo and awe at his gesture while dropping down to his height where you press a loving kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you, my darling. You’re such a gentleman,” Sirius beams at your praise as Regulus meets his eyes to the right of you and grins widely. The two easily share in the small joys they’ve been able to experience around you. They don’t want to seem rude so the two of them secretly cheer at the headache you suffered to be able to change this drastically, “However," you comb your fingers through his hair lovingly, "you’re the star of the show today. Why don’t you go first, my dear?”

Sirius doesn’t refute, too distracted and pink-cheeked by your affection to do anything but nod. He then turns to Ollivander, who smiles down at him kindly. The oddness surrounding the wand artisan, however, cannot be missed and Sirius is cautious to proceed forward.

“Your name, young man?”

“Sirius Black,”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sirius. Please step behind the counter and we can get started on finding you the perfect wand, shall we?” Sirius glances one more time over his shoulder and observes the encouraging nod you give him; his heart calming from the reassuring pat you give atop his head. Another moment passes before he is led behind the counter by Ollivander. The elderly wizard proceeds to give him a short once-over before disappearing between two ceiling-tall shelves, stacked full of stored wands.

“Do you want to watch your brother find his wand, Regulus?” you ask, kneeling to level with your youngest.

“Yes please, Mother,” he nods with a shy smile, “but I don’t know if I’m allowed past the counter,”

“Don’t worry,” with a smile, you carry him up in your arms, “I can seat you on the counter instead,” for the brief moment you rise, he stays in your embrace. However, when you go to place him on the counter, you find that Regulus doesn’t want to be let go.

In a whisper, you ask if he’s alright, “Can you just hold me like this?...please?” His answering whisper melts your heart and you can't find it in yourself to say no. Even if your arms begin to ache, you aren’t going to set him down until he wants to be set down – you’re determined!

“You mean you don’t know which wand is for me?” Sirius’ words ring with curiosity more than judgment as he looks up at Ollivander.

“I’m afraid not, my boy,”

“Aren’t you supposed to know?”

Smiling fondly, Ollivander begins to explain the process, happy to answer the questions of a curious child, “Ultimately, it is the wand that chooses the wizard, Mr Black,”

Sirius contemplates Ollivander’s words for a moment as Regulus gasps in astonishment beside your ear. The awe and interest are evident in the youngest’s silently twinkling grey eyes, matching that of his elder brother. Their wonderment is clear and both are equally skilful in concealing it.

“How will I know that a wand has chosen me?

“You’ll know,” Ollivander nods. There’s something in his pale eyes that makes Sirius keep from asking anything further. Something that says ‘trust me’.

Together, you and Regulus watch over the counter as Sirius tests out a variety of wands.

At one point Sirius makes several misplaced papers catch fire, which makes you giggle quietly. Regulus stiffened in your arms momentarily at the sight of the sudden flames and only seemed to relax as soon as he heard your soft laughter. It isn't until he presses his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder that he finally draws your attention. It didn’t seem like an issue to press further about so you gave his small back a few reassuring rubs and continued to watch over Sirius – perhaps Regulus was feeling a little exhausted already. Despite the disastrous flames, Ollivander had the situation handled and simply magicked away the fire before rummaging around for a different wand, muttering softly to himself as he did so. It wasn’t until Ollivander came back with a jet-black wand with familiar-looking markings carved along its body that you smiled to yourself. This was the one.

“Try this...” Ollivander offers up the wand but after the previous incident, Sirius is much more hesitant to proceed. He was only able to resume the testing when Ollivander flashed him a kind, reassuring smile - though he remained hesitant and stiff. Sirius was too scared to turn and see your reaction to the commotion he had just caused. But it was an accident! Surely you’d understand– “Give it a wave, then, young man,” Ollivander's chuckle was able to ease some of the stiffness from his limbs as the markings beneath his fingers urged him for a sturdier grip before giving the black wand a small flick.

Appearing from the tip of his wand, a small circulating breeze moves through the room, not caring for the mess it makes of any unfiled papers nor the rattling it causes amongst the stacked boxes of wands. The breeze eventually returns to circle Sirius, ruffling his hair and clothes before eventually dying down to leave him looking bedraggled.

The result was quite confusing to the ordinary eye, which worried you, but not for the elderly wand artisan. Ollivander slaps his knee and throws his head back with a laugh. “Now that’s a match if I’ve ever seen one!” His words make Sirius stare up at him with wide eyes of disbelief.

“Really?”

Ollivander kneels beside him with a twinkle in his eye, “That’s quite a choosy wand, my boy. Wands made out of jet black Ebony are happiest when in the hands of those who are not afraid of being themselves, sticking to their beliefs no matter what external pressures there may be,” the elderly wizard’s words washed over Sirius and flooded him with a feeling of vindication. He felt light and there was a flutter in his chest. In his short life so far, it’s been so hard to adhere to his convictions, and he has never before felt so validated, “you, young man, have a very courageous heart,” Ollivander’s words make you smile widely.

You set Regulus down as Sirius makes his way back to you. The two brothers share a hug but Sirius is still unable to meet your eyes. It isn't until his younger brother pulls away from the embrace that Sirius finally wills himself to look up at you. Regulus can see the slight fear in his older brother’s eyes and he knows the exact cause; Regulus was scared too. Regardless, you haven’t done or said anything to further his fears so the younger brother tries his best to be optimistic and flashes his older brother a small smile as if to say ‘it’s going to be okay’.

Biting his lip, Sirius finally turns to find that you’ve come down to his height. Rather than a scowl on your face for his earlier misbehaviour with the discordant wands, he finds you smiling brightly at him instead. Before he could comprehend what was happening, you pulled him into your arms. One hand presses against the back of his head and encourages him to bury his face into your shoulder as the other splays across his small back to give him supportive pats.

Beside his ear, you whisper, “I’m so proud of you, Sirius,” pulling away your eyes find that his own have significantly watered, holding back tears. Tears of joy, you assess and deliver a small kiss on his forehead.

“You’re not mad at me? For setting fire to the papers earlier?”

“Of course not!” you protest and pull him into your tight embrace once more, “I’d be surprised if I don’t set something on fire when trying to find a new wand too,” he giggles against your shoulder and it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard, “I’m so so proud of you Sirius, you have your wand now, and you’re going to be attending Hogwarts soon,” you sigh into his dark curls and mutter against his temple, “Far too soon…”

Relieved by your reaction, Sirius can finally digest your words and the sincere tone behind them. He’s never heard his mother praise him or voice how she’s proud of him but here you were, whispering rare words for him to hear only. He doesn’t know if he could ever feel happiness like this ever again. It’s hard for him to even describe - he’s just so so happy.

It’s your turn to get a new wand now and the process is entirely the same. Ollivander goes through a selection of wands for you to test the feel of, giving each one a chance to see if they want to become your companion or not. After going through the first handful, you manage to light a stack of papers on fire yourself and when Ollivander swiftly distinguishes it, your group shares a laugh.

“See? I told you it would happen to me too,” you smile over your shoulder at Sirius who giggles with his little brother.

A few more inharmonious wands go by before Ollivander hands you one that's made of a light-coloured wood. The design of its body was very elegant and emulated a pattern that was reminiscent of vintage stone pillars. Widely spaced vertical ridges run along the main body and lead towards ornate, uniform designs that either look like curling leaves or crashing waves. It’s beautiful but what matters is whether or not the wand chooses you.

Flicking the wand, a spark of light escapes from the tip and you prepare yourself for another pile of papers to be set on fire. However, you’re pleasantly surprised when the light floats through the room as if it were swimming through water. It reaches Sirius and Regulus, where it proceeds to circle each of them before departing and leaving a warm touch that lingers on their cheek. The light eventually returns to you again, where it orbits your figure several times, enveloping your silhouette in an ethereal glow before disappearing. In its wake, it leaves a path of warmth that loiters in the air, suspended like the many particles of dust dancing in the light filtering in through the high windows.

Smiling in success, you hold the wand to your chest and turn to your boys who had begun to cheer for you. You could have easily lost yourself in the moment if it weren’t for your keen ears picking up on Ollivander’s mutterings. His words were all in a whisper and not meant for anyone else’s ears.

“How fascinating…” the elderly wizard smiles whimsically to himself again, “the singular wand whose properties are the precise opposite of the original became your destined companion,” you meet the pale, almost translucent eyes of the wand artisan, who smiles at you as soon as he finishes muttering to himself, “it’s truly an honour to be able to witness the pairing of an Applewood wand,”

“Why is that?” Regulus asks before you can even react. With a smile, Ollivander moves to the front of the counter and bows at the knees to his height. Their eyes lock like that of a patient but talented teacher and his diligent student.

“There are many properties of a wand that can be attributed to the reasons why it chose its ultimate owner, one of which is its wood. Your brother,” Ollivander gestures to Sirius, “has himself a wand that is made of Ebony wood, while your mother has herself one that’s made of Applewood. Applewood wands are very powerful indeed, I can assure you of that,” you find yourself leaning closer, eager to learn more, just as much as your two sons were to learn of their mother and the nature of wands, “their owners are typically ones who harbour ambitious goals and even higher principles. As a result, there stands a positive correlation between possessors of Applewood wands and the life they tend to live,” your breath remains trapped in your throat, held there by anxiety as you tensely anticipate Ollivander’s successive words, “they live a life that is long and where they are well-loved,” the relief was great and one that you were desperate to maintain. You know what you're setting out to do is going to prove a difficult challenge but it is going to be worth it, as long as your two boys are happy and by your side.

Together, both wands cost 14 galleons. And, despite the excitement you first held for meeting such a distinguished Harry Potter character, you were eager to leave, slightly scared of the amount of knowledge he potentially held. At the very least, you were able to depart on a good note

Naturally, the next order of business was to get all of Sirius’ robes and uniform at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions shop. That would be on the north side of Diagon Alley and, considering you were on the south side for Ollivander’s wand shop, you needed to direct your boys back up to the North. You admit, it was quite inefficient to go from Gringotts, which was North, to Ollivander’s (South), only to go back North when all the shops you had left to visit were up there. There were many shop names that you recognised on the way down, however, it was best to get the only singular South-side shop from your list out of the way so you could spend the rest of the afternoon easily hopping from shop to shop in the North-side.

“What’s wrong, darling?” you ask, noticing that Sirius has been staring off in one direction for some time, completely motionless and glued into place.

“Nothing… let’s go,” he grabs a fistful of your dress’ skirt but you already noticed what had captured his attention.

“A joke shop…” a small grin tugs on the corners of your lips. You remember the child-like wonder that washed over you whenever you watched the scenes featuring Fred and George Weasley’s joke shop. This joke shop isn't theirs but you wonder if it’s just as remarkable.

Sirius had no hope of ever convincing you to take a look, especially when most of today would be packed full of shopping at other shops for his supplies as a first year. In his insecurity, Sirius was only able to muster a quiet, “...yeah…”

“What a good idea,” you smile brightly and take both their hands into yours, heading in the direction of the shop happily named, ‘Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop’, “Let’s have a little look shall we? A small detour like this can’t do much harm,” Sirius was smiling from ear to ear as soon as he overcame the shock your agreement brought, “Although, I'm afraid I won’t consider buying anything,” a treat like that is meant for another time...

“That’s okay!” Sirius cheers and hurries along, making it to the door before you could and holding it open for you.

You’re beginning to realise a recurring discrepancy between the size of a shop’s exterior compared to its interior space; the joke shop is considerably larger on the inside compared to its outside appearance. It added to the joke factor of the store itself - how funny that it appeared so deviously small on the outside.

The entrance was lined with shelves filled with an assortment of joke items, all were vibrant and eye-catching. It was hard to enforce any form of restraint when your eyes couldn’t stay in one place too long, nor could your feet. There were several other children with their parents roaming the galleries of jokester paraphernalia too. Only then were you finally able to focus your gaze on your two, fascinated boys, not wanting to lose them.

“How undignified!” your eyes roll at the scratchy, annoying voice that invades your head once more, “No child of mine should ever be seen in a Joke Shop!”

“Oh Shut up, let my kids be kids,” you retaliate, folding your arms loosely as you observe Sirius dragging around his younger brother by the hand. Regulus happily heeds, not needing to be dragged to be able to shadow his older brother. Nevertheless, their small hands remain connected. The scene made you smile warmly, they’re the cutest boys you’ve ever – you want to prolong their happiness and give them as many opportunities as possible to experience the same delights over and over again.

“THEY’RE NOT YOUR KIDS!”

“YES. THEY. ARE!” shaking away Walburga’s shrill screams, you try to focus on the ground beneath you. It’s best to end this argument quickly, you don’t want to faint in the middle of a joke shop and ruin the day for your two boys; it's barely started.

You didn’t prolong your stay but enough time was spent there for you to witness Sirius’ certain appeal towards a particular item: a purple box of stink pellets. Smiling to yourself, you make a mental note of the fact before leading your two boys out and back to the north side of Diagon Alley.

It’s a relief that most shops offer delivery services, you don’t believe you would be able to carry all of your purchased items home.

At Madam Malkin’s, you bought all the necessary uniforms and robes for Sirius to have. Being an established house and family, you were attended to right away despite your insistence on no special treatment. Sirius was then measured and the appropriate sizes for his robes and other items were brought back to be tried on. He looked somewhat embarrassed from the attention but you couldn’t help yourself. There are many joys of being a mother and one of them was the ability to brag about how beautiful and exemplary your child was. To anyone within earshot and to those who, both, cared and didn’t care to listen, you openly talked their ear off about Sirius. Said son grew redder and redder with each expression of praise that left your lips without an ounce of hesitation.

Was he hearing right? You're just joking with him...but you sound so sincere. Surely those other people don't care, why are you such talk on them?!

“He looks all grown up, I’m so so proud of him,” Sirius’ ear tinted a faint red.

“I worry that he’ll attract too many girls’ attention and grow a bad reputation over breaking too many hearts. But, then again, look at his handsome face, of course, they would fall for my son,” Sirius looks to the side, trying to find interest in the cracks of the shop’s walls -- a weak attempt at distracting himself from the flames in his cheeks.

“I can already tell! He’s going to achieve so many great things, I just know it!” Sirius looks over and narrows his eyes at his giggling younger brother. Wait until he has to go through the same thing when he starts his first year!

“Yes yes, I know your son looks wonderful in his robes too but look at my son! His robes look like they were made for him!” try as he might, Sirius can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips. His heart swells up in his chest and threatens to burst from the amount of happiness your endless praise fosters in him.

Just as the checklist states, you made sure to get three sets of plain work robes in black, a pointed hat, a protective pair of dragon hide gloves, a black winter coat with silver fastenings and, lastly, name tags to attach to all items. The total amounted to 28 galleons and 44 sickles. Madam Malkins offered a service that stitched on the name tags for you but you kindly refused. It’s a tedious task but you wanted to stitch the name tags on yourself; you had the time and you wanted to do your due diligence as a mother. This is your job and you aren’t going to hand it over to anyone else. You were told to expect the owl delivery within a week.

“How about a break?” you suggest upon seeing a sudden fall in your boys’ energy. Their once slumped shoulders suddenly tense and the two peer up at you with cautious eyes. Despite the amount of progress you’ve made in cultivating a mutual rapport with them, it appears that some phrases put them on high alert regardless of the harmonic atmosphere.

“It’s okay mother,” Regulus hurriedly assures, his smile now much smaller and wrinkled at the edges from superficially conjectural nerves.

“Yeah, we’re not tired, we can continue shopping just fine,” Sirius continues, reaching out to hold hands with his brother as they stand before you with identical ambivalent expressions. It breaks your heart. Their words are simple but their actions are heavily veneered by a thin veil of coy nonchalance.

“Aren’t you two hungry?” you ask, crouching down to meet at their level, where you’ve gotten into the habit of being able to converse deeply with them. Keeping their gaze, holding each other’s attention and listening closely has led to so much understanding and that’s all you want with them.

They look at each other from your question. Sirius can see the obvious hesitation in his younger brother’s eyes and he gives his hand a small squeeze. Usually, Sirius was the more outspoken one, never letting his fears show while allowing his tongue to run and verbalise all the thoughts and opinions in his head. It was his small bit of freedom in a house that was so set on censoring him and his many opposing views, despite his young age. Oftentimes, his parents would guilt him into thinking that he was being a bad influence on Regulus, simply by voicing his views, which are usually opposite to those of his parents. Regulus had a much softer disposition, however. While Sirius carried about smug confidence and had a deficiency for self-preservation, Regulus reigned in studiousness and quiet wit. Sirius knows that his younger brother is gifted but his bright mind shouldn’t be cultivated under such oppressive practices and methods. If that happened, Sirus feared that his darling, little brother's gift would be reduced to nothing. There's no way that Sirius would let that happen to his baby brother, which is why he’s so vocal! But… what's changed?

Now he was hesitating, his throat clogged up, his palms were sweaty…he was scared. Scared to have you look at him with disapproval or disappointment. Sirius doesn’t know what happened to you, his mother, but you’re different now, he wants to love you and be loved in return. You’ve shown him that you can give the tenderness he desires, you’ve proven that he’s loveable and that he’s worth your time and attention.

He’s scared because if he makes a single misstep now… he’s going to lose that. It’s much harder losing something you’ve known, felt, and experienced than losing something that never existed in the first place…

“My dears?” you whisper with concern, leaning forward ever so slightly with furrowed brows of worry, “what’s wrong?”

“We’ll have to go home to eat…” Regulus confesses softly. He avoids your eyes as he fiddles with the hem of his long-sleeved shirt and completely misses the confused look on your face.

“It is not proper to conclude important errands prematurely,” Sirius explains as if reciting from a rulebook, “...and we don’t want to go home yet either…”

“We’re not stopping entirely,” you reassure, petting their soft hair affectionately and rewarding them with a kind smile as soon as they raise their hopeful faces to you, “we’re just having a lunch break, my loves,”

“You mean…” Sirius begins.

“We’re eating outside?” Regulus continues. Both look astonished at the notion.

“Of course, it’s better than eating back at home,” it then occurs to you a simple explanation for their odd behaviour, “Do you two not want to eat outside?”

“No!” Sirius jumps over-excited before a flash of realisation flourishes in his grey eyes and he quickly drops back, “No, it’s not that, m-mother,”

“W-we’ve just never eaten outside before,” Regulus explains shyly, “you have us on a strict dietary regime as a proper gentleman wizard of the Black family should be,”

“I’m putting a stop to that ridiculous ‘diet’ as soon as we get back,” they perk up at you but are quickly ushered forward to the nearby pub; unable to press you further on the matter.

Stepping into the Leaky Cauldron, you're greeted by the comforting aroma of hearty meals, mingling with the faint scent of crackling firewood and a faint fog of cigarette smoke. The space is a cosy retreat from the chaotic cobblestone streets outside. From the ceiling hangs several candle-lit chandeliers made of blackened iron, its flickering lights casting a warm glow upon the worn wooden tables and mismatched chairs positioned about the room. The walls are lined with shelves displaying an eclectic assortment of magical curiosities - from peculiar potion ingredients preserved in jars to enchanted artefacts that seem to hum with hidden power. An array of portraits decorate two parallel walls above brick archways. The portraits contain inky sketches that move about freely, some interacting with other portraits as a few characters walk between the varying displays. You guess they might be disappointed to realise that their selection of landscapes are largely the same - plain - but having the freedom seemed sufficient for them to stay jovial enough. At the heart of the room stands a grand fireplace, its flames dancing merrily within its brick frame. Its ochre light casts playful shadows across the room, socialising with the silhouettes of fellow bar guests.

Lighting within the pub relied heavily on candles so the atmosphere was quite dim but the tall candle illuminating the centre of your table gave the time spent there a very idyllic ambience. The two were unfamiliar with the menu items so, with their permission and trust, you ordered in their place.

Since Sirius didn’t mind what he got, you ordered for him Hunter’s Chicken. Regulus said he had a liking for fish so you got him a classic plate of Fish and Chips. For yourself, you got the cottage pie. For drinks, they got apple juice while you had a hot tea. Thinking back on the bland meals served at the Black family household, you’re certain that they were in for a treat today.

It doesn’t take long for the meals to be given out after your beverages; thankfully all of your entrees were delivered together. In front of Sirius were two succulent chicken breasts wrapped in smoky bacon and smothered in a rich and tangy barbecue sauce, baked to golden-brown perfection.

He takes his first bite and moans in amazement at the taste. The tender chicken yields effortlessly to reveal layers of savoury goodness - the sweet and smoky notes of the bacon harmonising with the bold tanginess of the barbecue sauce. Every mouthful he takes thereafter struggles between going slow or fast, the symphony of textures and tastes, leaves him craving more of the hearty dish. He doesn’t think he’s ever tasted something so appetising. Why couldn’t the food at home taste like this?

Regulus had before him a plate displaying a golden fillet of flaky fish. It’s encased in a light and crispy batter, served alongside a generous helping of thick-cut, crispy-on-the-outside-fluffy-on-the-inside chips, garden peas and a small ceramic of tartar sauce. Having not seen this appearance of a fish dish before, Regulus looks up at you with a curious look as if to say ‘What is this?’. You greet his curiosity with a sympathetic but patient gaze.

Gently, you urge him to squeeze the lemon slice over the battered fish and nod when he timidly follows your instruction, “Now give it a try, my darling, I promise you’ll like it,”

…and like it, he did!

With each bite, Regulus is met with satisfying crunch after satisfying crush. The exterior is perfectly fried, giving way to the tender fish within. The delicate cod melts in his mouth, introducing the delicate flavour of the fish, complemented by a sprinkle of salt and the squeeze of fresh lemon. Together they create a harmonious balance of savoury and tangy notes that dance happily over his palate.

“It’s delicious Mother!” Regulus grins with partially stuffed cheeks and crumbs of the batter decorating his lips. Sirius nods enthusiastically beside him, unable to speak from stuffing his mouth full of his chicken dish.

“Big brother, you have to try some!” you watch with a heart swelling up from adoration and pride as Regulus offers a big chunk of his fish and places it onto his brother’s plate.

“You too Reggie!” Sirius does the same with his chicken, generously offering up a portion from his plate. Once the two try a bite of each other’s meal, an explosion of ardour lights up their grey eyes, creating a galaxy of endless constellations in their wake. They are so precious.

Giggling at their antics, you turn to your dish and begin to eat. In all honesty, seeing them enjoying their food for the first time had your stomach already halfway full. So you happily offered a portion of your cottage pie as well. They wanted to say no but you were much too convincing and when they offered a bite of their dishes, you explained that you were already getting full.

They were named after stars but at this moment, their eyes held a galaxy of their own, just from tasting a delicious meal. You want to see them like this all the time…maybe you should begin cooking in the kitchen again? It was a hobby of yours that you enjoyed, baking too but found limited time to partake in it when your business had exponential growth.

Throughout the meal, you often forgot your unfinished plate to be able to tend to your boys. They’re not usually this messy but they were enjoying their food so well that they couldn’t help themselves. They haven’t tasted food this good before!

“You two are so messy,” you joke, giggling to yourself as you reach over with a napkin to wipe at the edges of their mouths while they chew their food. A look of shame crosses their adorable, sweet faces and they slow their mastication, avoiding your gaze.

“Sorry mother,” Regulus apologises meekly as Sirius mutters a similar apology beside him.

“Whatever for?” you pout at them, “I love seeing you enjoying your meals so much,” their expressions relax slightly when they turn to gaze up to witness your kind smile, “maybe I should get a cookbook and begin cooking up some delicious meals at home for you two, hmm?” a wide grin overcomes them, their astonishment quickly washing away from their elation at the prospect.

“Really mother?!” hopefulness makes Regulus’ voice raise an octave higher as Sirius bashfully stares up at you.

“You’d do that?... For us?” Sirius’ voice comes out unusually shy.

“Of course,” you shrug nonchalantly, trying to temper your exuberant grin, “I was getting tired of the dull, tasteless meals anyway,”

The main topic for the next visit was Eeylops Owl Emporium.

In your head, you remember the dark feathered owl Sirius owned in the films who had a horrible habit of biting people. Surely it wouldn’t affect the timeline drastically if you bought a different owl for him. It’s been on your mind how you would like to write letters to Sirius regularly, especially during his first year. You might even convince Regulus to join you so you could send your letters together; you didn’t want your son getting bit every time you wrote a letter to him so you’ll be getting him a different bird for all prospective deliveries.

Upon entering the shop, you encourage your boys to explore and keep a lookout for an owl that would be suitable for Sirius to have for school. In the meantime, you tried to pinpoint the owl with the terrible biting habit so that you may be able to steer Sirius away from ever encountering the bird. You don’t understand why Sirius would have ever decided to get a bird like that in the first place so if he manages to find it before you and decides he wants it, you don’t know how you’ll be able to convince him otherwise—

“That insolent thing bit me!” as the original Walburga’s voice enters your head, an image of the familiar black-feathered owl flashes behind your eyelids.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

‘The amber-eyed owl, quick as lightning, launches its head forward with a vicious snapping of its beak. Successful in its attack, you reel your arm back – except it’s notyourarm – with a shriek of fright and pain. Upon looking down, you observe the torn fabric of your sleeve as well as the lacerated skin of your arm – still not your arm – which begins to bleed a crimson red. Anger and embarrassment flood your veins as you prepare to curse at the insolent thing but stop when your eyes lock onto the hidden smirk of your eldest son.

“I want that one,” he says, a devious twinkle in his eyes. Before you could protest, his negligent and, often, preoccupied father, steps towards the shop clerk to request the owl for purchase. Orion hadn’t seen the vicious beast attacking you; too eager to return to his work and rushing through the list of school supplies needed for Sirius' first year. The man you call your husband only has himself to blame for waiting so late, only a week was left before Sirius had to depart for Hogwarts but, thankfully, most delivery services didn’t require that long to complete shipment.

“Let's hurry along then,” Orion clicks his tongue in displeasure over the sudden slowing of everyone’s pace, “we must be done by noon, I have better things to be doing!”

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Wh-what the–?” blinking rapidly, your vision of the present slowly returns as you reach out to grasp onto something just to steady yourself. Unlike all other squabbles, the original Walburga doesn’t return to elaborate in her screeching voice; she is unusually silent but you’re too dazed to point it out.

You don’t realise what’s happened until you’re flinging your arm back with a sharp cry, cradling your arm to your chest.

“Mother!” Regulus runs up to you with furrowed brows marked by distress, “Are you okay?” he reaches for your arm and you bashfully show him your injury, inflicted onto you by a black-feathered owl. The cheeky thing tilts its head at you as if it’s done nothing wrong and merely proceeds to preen its feathers, unbothered by the whole ordeal – so rude.

“Not that one,” Sirius glares at the malevolent bird, narrow eyes filled with malice before turning to you with a softened look of concern.

“It’s alright my darlings,” you smile reassuringly at them both, “it’s just a scratch, let’s look for a different owl, alright?”

It took a while to calm the boys enough to distract them from the mishap and finally return to the task at hand. You're injured but you, thankfully, didn’t have to do much to convince Sirius about choosing another owl. Only… The fact that your injury looks identical to the one that appeared on the arm of (what you assume) is the original Walburga’s vision, was disconcerting.

You make mental notes of everything that happened in the short period, not wanting to ponder on the sinister details just yet, not when you were having such a fun day with your two boys.

In the end, Sirius settles on a majestic barn owl with beautiful gold and white feathers. The shopkeeper informed you that the owl was a female as he prepared all the additional items you wanted to have with the owl; treats, a small care guide, its cage, water bowl, food bowl, and all of its necessities. You don’t want to acknowledge the shopkeeper’s suspicious gaze as it periodically falls on you. It was beginning to make you feel self-conscious and you’re eager to distract your racing mind. This was probably all original Walburga’s doing. You know how much of a bitch she is but her reputation is proving to be incredibly troublesome when it comes to interacting with other people.

“What will you name her, Sirius?” you ask, hoping your voice doesn’t give away your discomfort. Thankfully, your question is a good distraction for everyone, including the shopkeeper.

“I don’t know…” Sirius ponders to himself, “Maybe… hmmm… Owletta,” he grins cheekily, proud of himself for the creative name. You can already see the marauder in him and it makes you grin as well.

“That sounds very fitting,” you wink at him as Regulus giggles to himself, enjoying the given name as well, “great choice,”

“What happened to the last owl you purchased?” the shopkeeper asks suddenly, finally finished with preparing all the items and eying you warily. You feel Sirius and Regulus’ eyes on you from his question as well and hurry to make an excuse. This situation has grown very uncomfortable.

“Last owl?”

“Yes, the screech owl, from last week,”

“It was for a gift…to a friend,” you smile innocently despite your awkward wording, grateful that the shopkeeper doesn’t ask any further questions although he does appear reluctant to hand over Owletta. But with an impatient flap of her large wings, he hands her over inside her cage. She probably felt the taut tension of indecision in the air far worse than you.

“10 galleons…” you gladly hand over payment and usher your boys out.

This has the original Walburga's name written all over it.

Continuing with the shopping, your next stop was Flourish and Blotts for Sirius’ books. The list of publications needing to be purchased was long, amounting to eight volumes of knowledge ranging from magical creatures to history and magic theory. You were tempted to read through the books yourself and learn a thing or two but didn’t want to appear lacking. As unfortunate as it is, you’re supposed to be the Walburga Black, a very proud, ‘high-class’ witch within the wizarding world, meaning that you had to be proficient in, at least, 1st year of wizarding knowledge.

Fortunately, there was an owl delivery option for the books, which saves you from carrying the heavy load but you’re beginning to feel sad for the poor owls subjected to delivering such a package. Not only that but you worried for your poor Sirius’ little shoulders and arms having to carry around those heavy books at Hogwarts. You hope to god there’s a magic bag that could carry many things without transferring the weight onto you. From the books and the delivery fee, everything costs 14 galleons in total.

It wasn’t listed on the official school supplies list but you had the foresight to go to Scribbulus Writing Instruments to buy an assortment of inks, quills and parchment. Sirius and Regulus were fascinated by the colour-changing inks available, some transitioning between two to three colours and some cycling through much more. At first, you found it odd that they hadn’t encountered such a simple and commonplace magical item before until you remembered their parents and all the unfortunate implications that came with that realisation. It made your fists clench in anger and had you impulsively buying a small pot of each colour-changing ink to the surprise and subsequent delight of your two boys.

“Y-you didn’t have to do that Mother,” Regulus comments shyly with a soft pink glow dusting his cheeks as he cradles a small pot of colour-changing ink in his little hands. That particular one was his favourite, if you remember correctly, it transitioned through an array of blue hues. He looks so adorable; you don’t know how you were able to resist reaching down to pinch at his pudgy cheeks.

“Of course, I had to,” you huff with a playful sternness before leaning down and bringing them in close to whisper for their ears only, it was as if you were telling a century-old secret. Intrigued by your actions, they lean in with rounded eyes of wonder, “But promise not to tell your father, he doesn’t deserve to know about our secret ink stash,” Sirius grins mischievously as Regulus' cheeks dimple. Nodding firmly at each other, your agreement was sealed and the three of you continued with your shopping spree.

The next stop was Potage’s Cauldron Shop, where you purchased a small cauldron before getting potioneer equipment and a telescope from Wisearce’s Wizardry Equipment. Again, like all the shops before, it was incredibly touching to be able to see your son's eyes sparkle in fascination and wonderment. You can practically hear their thoughts. Even though Regulus has to wait another year before he can attend Hogwarts, they’re both glowing with enthusiasm and alacrity to learn and experience something new. It just makes your heart ache a little over how you’re going to be mostly absent from that venture, seeing as Hogwarts is a boarding school. In the meantime, you’ll savour having them with you now and spending the little time you have with Sirius worthwhile and carry that on with Regulus while his older brother is at school creating chaos with the rest of the marauders.

Sirius’ assortment of school equipment was quickly piling up and so was his excitement. It was an excitement that proved to be very contagious as Regulus stood to his right, absorbing the delight that flowed from him in wave after beautiful wave. Seeing such precious smiles on their faces, it was hard to believe that the first day or so was filled with them fixing you with permanent scowls or passive expressions that were too mature and ill-suited to their youthful faces. These gorgeous smiles suited them a lot more… and you want to keep it that way.

Stepping back out onto the cobblestone streets, you look around with your mental list of shops that still need visiting but find your gaze stopping on the sign of a quaint, unassuming shop dubbed ‘Belby’s Potions and Ingredients’. You don’t remember ever hearing of a shop like this being in Diagon Alley but that’s to be expected, the world building wasn’t very expansive in the Harry Potter movies or books when it came to Diagon Alley, and this is without considering that you were in a different era of the Harry Potter Universe. You’ve already come across some shops that you’ve never heard of before but sit comfortably, right at home, amongst the other recognisable shops in the district; this one in particular shouldn't strike you as so intriguing.

“Is that where we’re going next, mother?” Sirius speaks up, snapping you out of your dazed state.

Smiling shyly, you make a small confession, “It’s not part of the list, I’m just hoping for a little detour to get you familiar with potion ingredients before school," you skillfully fib, "is that okay with you boys?” asking for their opinion and giving them a choice to agree or disagree always seemed to make them happy. It’s a freedom and a luxury, that they were rarely given when under the real Walburga’s ‘care’ so they were more than happy to oblige.

“Of course that’s alright,” Regulus looks past the skirt of your black dress to meet eyes with his brother, “right, Sirius?”

“Yeah!” grinning happily, they hold your hands in their much smaller ones and start pulling you along to the shop, their enthusiasm making appear like normal, happy kids, “let’s go, mother!”

Looking up at the sign once more, you allow your curiosity to spring forward. Indeed, you can’t recognise this shop before your transfer into the Harry Potter, Marauders era universe but the name ‘Belby’ definitely piqued your interest. It’s on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t quite place where you recognise the name.

Entering the shop, you were presently enticed by the entirely separate atmosphere it presented. Unlike most of the other shops that were, either, barely lit or bursting with colour, the atmosphere of this shop was remarkably serene. It was pleasant. A good change of pace. Switching from two extremes of decoration, it was relieving to finally find one that danced in the middle, leaning towards an aesthetic that was homey and unsophisticated.

Your two boys were quick to begin surveying the shelves of products themselves - a library of carefully crafted potions and their ingredients. It was clear that they too, were welcomed and put at ease by the cottage-core aesthetic of the dwelling. There were dried bunches of flora hanging from the walls and ceiling, some with cute blossoms, frozen in their prime, whilst other herbage sported brittle stems and frail, veiny leaves. The colours of the ingredients and tightly packed potions meticulously measured into phials were somewhat muted but in a very pretty sense. It was like opening a beloved, ageing book and diving into its wondrous, antiquated tales, freckled with wise passages that transcend all time and languages. The shop was very small but also very charming and well-loved; you felt right at home.

As your two boys weave through the isles of merchandise, a genial voice calls out to you, “Welcome to Belby’s Potions and Ingredients, I’m Damocles Belby, how can I help you today?” at the front counter, you observe a man in his mid-thirties with a full beard and moustache framing a no-eye smile. Slowly easing himself out of his merry greeting, his eyelids unfurl to reveal a beautiful pair of honey-amber eyes. He looks kind; his affable demeanour is just as welcoming as his cosy shop.

“Hello sir,” you hope your smile conveys, at least, half of the warmth of his own, “I’m just taking a look around, thank you,” he gives a soft ‘ahh’ of acknowledgement before nodding, “My two boys are also around here somewhere. My eldest son will be starting his first year at Hogwarts next month so I wanted him to get a little familiar with the potion ingredients he’ll be encountering at school,”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” Damocles grins in approval, chuckling to himself at your chest swelling with pride for your son, “what is your son’s name?”

“Sirius Black,” you announce fondly, the friendly atmosphere coming to a screeching halt when realisation washes over Damocles’ features. The once cordial air has plunged to freezing temperatures within seconds, prickling your skin with goosebumps.

“M-madam Black,” he greets formally with a bow of his head. It’s clear that Walburga’s reputation is notoriously menacing but you’re not her and you kindly ask that he refrain from such discretionary (in your eyes) behaviour.

“I’m simply a mother to my sons and a wife to my husband,” a disgusting, pile of shit that’s a complete waste of oxygen, who doesn’t deserve the title of father or husband, “that is all,” your answer doesn’t soothe him as you’d hoped it would but your attentions are soon required elsewhere when you’re both drawn to an even cosier corner of the store.

Led there by the whisperings of your two sons, both accompanied by a tired yet melodious voice, you are greeted with the most charming sight — your boys sitting at the foot of a rocking chair, where a frail but equally kind-looking woman slumps into, her pale blue eyes shining with fondness at them as she embroiders a shimmering pink thread into a plain square of cloth in her lap. She’s dressed modestly, with her top hiding her arms in long lantern sleeves as her collar stretches up her neck. The long skirt of her dress looks layered, puffing up at the sides of her seat and what little skin you would have seen at her ankles are covered in thick socks. You wonder if she’s cold at all. Or maybe she’s just a very unobtrusive person with a likeness for coquettish and demure fashions.

“How do you know how to make the flowers if you don’t draw them first?” Regulus asks, peering over her lap in an attempt to catch sight of her work between her elegantly working hands.

Sirius nods and adds to the conversation with his question, “Yeah, and why aren’t you using magic like everyone else?”

“It comes with a lot of practice,” she answers your baby first before turning to your slightly older baby, “and I do it because I enjoy embroidering; besides…” she turns her work over to them, allowing you a glimpse of her masterpiece as well, “it always looks prettier when I embroider it myself,” your two boys ‘ooo~’ and ‘aaah~’ at her work. The interaction draws a soft giggle from you while the shopkeeper beside you sighs quietly – he sounds relieved.

“Are you feeling better, my dear?” Damocles steps up to his wife, placing one hand on the head of the cane that’s kept beside her rocking chair. His other hand reaches up to curl his fingers into a shy ringlet of her blonde hair. They are a loving couple, a 'one true pair'.

“Mr Belby, you need to stop being such a worrier,” his wife chides playfully at him, abandoning her embroidery to smile lovingly at her husband, “and besides, there’s nothing for you to fret about when I’m around such good company,” her comment makes you smile widely, proud that your two boys were growing a reputation of their own, ones separate from the infamous Black family. You can handle the stares and uncomfortable accommodations for your prominence but you wouldn't stand for them to experience it too.

“Right, of course,” Damocles nods with a short but airy chuckle and nods at the boys thankfully when they shuffle their way back to you. Sirius and Regulus had never seen such an affectionate couple before; their parents weren’t like that. And, although they wish they could grow up under such a soft and healthy model of love, they know that it wouldn’t be possible; to them, mothers and fathers don’t normally show affection for each other and that was how it was going to stay between their parents. There was no use in hoping.

“You must be these two young men’s mother,” Damocles’ wife meets your gaze and smiles, her beauty unable to be masked by her pronounced ailment, “My name is Ruth Belby, I see you’ve already met my worry-wart of a husband,” the two of you share a laugh before you’re able to introduce yourself as well. Unlike her spouse, Ruth's first reaction was not fear but rather surprise, an astonishment that quickly melted into a soft smile.

“You two have a very lovely shop,” Sirius and Regulus nod eagerly by your sides, agreeing with your comment, “it’s so much cosier than all the other shops around here,”

Damocles’ expression softens, his eyes mirroring sweet honey before he presses a kiss to his wife’s temple, “It’s all because of my wife’s keen eye, I catered this place solely for her palates’ enjoyment,”

“I’m very lucky in that sense,” Ruth’s twinkling laugh rings out as quickly as it gives way to a coughing fit. It sounds as though she’s trying to hack up a serrated knife, the sound of it making all witnesses' hearts shake with panic except for Damocles', who rushes about to quell her discomfort. He hides his worries well. His expression is completely neutral as he offers her a crisp glass of water, however, his other hand reveals his true sentiments – his true fretfulness. As soon as she's had her fill of the glass, Damocles offers up a phial of magenta liquid that you’re all too familiar with, “darling, there’s no need for that,” Ruth’s nose scrunches up at the appearance of the healing potion.

“It’s for your own good, please Ruth. I only want for you to feel better, my dear,” she grumbles and whines but eventually gulps down the healing potion, taking a moment to get over the ghastly taste before changing the topic. Your eyes fall onto her with sympathy. That potion is truly disgusting.

“That’s enough about me, I hear that this young man is going to be attending Hogwarts,” Ruth gestures to Sirius as you fondly bring up a hand to comb your fingers through his perfectly permed hair.

“Yes, he’s growing up far too quickly…” you hum, melancholic despite only being with your newly acquired sons for a little over a week. Sirius’ ears tint a soft pink and he shyly peeks up at you with pouting lips.

“Growing up is normal…” he utters like a grump.

“I know,” you sigh in gentle acceptance, “but I quite like you as you are right now,” Sirius’ eyes widen in disbelief and his cheeks burn as pink as his ears. It’s an expression that makes you smile warmly, you like the appearance of it on him, he needs to express it more often, “I want you to stay like this with me just a little bit longer, is that too much to ask?”

“...not really,” you didn’t expect him to answer but it was in a whisper so you had to lean down ever so slightly to hear him clearer, “I’ll try to stay like this a little longer for you…if you want,” his comment, heard by you and Ruth, have you both cooing at him as Regulus grins hard enough for his dimples to show again; his older brother’s rose-red face is so funny to look at!

When it comes time for you, Regulus and Sirius to leave, you thought it would just be a regular goodbye but not for your two boys. They've made good friends with the couple, especially Ruth so a memorable adieu was in order.

Regulus bows to Ruth like a true gentleman while Sirius places a small kiss on her knuckles, whereby he then turns to his younger brother and says verbatim: that’s how a true gentleman bids farewell to a beautiful lady. The gesture of your eldest made Damocles’ eyes bulge out as Ruth laughed aloud, her shoulders shaking as her eyes lit up in glee. It's a relief that she didn't have a coughing fit this time. You, yourself, don’t know why you were so surprised. It appears as though Sirius’ philanderer ways didn’t start in Hogwarts; he already had the potential even before attending the boarding school.

With another wave of your hand and a glance over your shoulder, you leave the couple whilst leading your two boys to the door in front of you.

It was then that you saw it…

In Ruth, you saw your past self. It was like looking into a mirror, a mirror into the past where you couldn’t have children no matter how desperately you wanted to have ones of your own. Like you, she probably had a list of names picked out in her head already. Like you, she probably pictured their innocent, beautiful faces in the appearance of other children. Like you, she envied the mothers who were able to conceive and desperately wished for a miracle to happen only for that miracle to never materialise. It was a mix of hopeless yearning and doleful forbearance. From your peripheral, you discern a similar impression on Damocles as he stands beside his ill-stricken wife.

Damocles Belby… why does that name sound so familiar to you?

The boys did so well today. It was long and arduous and you could see the sun beginning to set, however, it’s never too late for–

“Ice cream?” Regulus asks with glittering grey eyes.

“We can have two scoops each,” you announce, eager to reward yourself as well, “we deserve something delicious for our hard work today,” Regulus was bouncing on the soles of his feet, something both you and Sirius noticed.

“You can go first Reggie,” Sirius smiles at his little brother, who turns to you with pleading eyes.

“Can I choose my flavours myself?” he asks to which you smile and nod. Eagerly, he looks through the collection of available ice cream and decides to go for, “one scoop of strawberry and peanut butter, and one scoop of apple crumble please,” he seems proud of his order and is soon savouring it with the happiest expression on his face. It’s unexpected but he, undoubtedly, has a sweet tooth. A studious, quiet boy with a secret love for sweet things - how charming and precious.

“Can I have one scoop of the clotted cream, and one scoop of the sticky toffee pudding please,” just like Regulus, Sirius was soon delving into his ice cream too, both teetering on the edge of wanting to devour the rare, cold treat whilst also trying to make it last as long as possible. You giggle at their antics briefly before ordering your own two scoops from the same vendor who smiles at you kindly. In his gaze and wrinkled but dexterous fingers, familiar and elegant with their motions, express a love for his craft and a love for those who show their appreciation of it – the simple act of enjoying their ice cream was payment enough to him.

“Thank you kindly, sir,”

“Not at all mam, enjoy yer ice creams,” the man offers a slight tip of his head upon accepting payment.

On a nearby bench, Sirius, Regulus and you sit quietly together and finish your doubly topped cones, taking the time to observe passing wizards and witches while enjoying the little time you have left of your day out shopping. You don’t think the day could have gone any better, and Sirius and Regulus don’t think anything would be able to transcend the fun they’ve had.

Meeting each other’s eyes, Sirius and Regulus silently agree that today has been the best day they’ve ever had, not knowing that you have plenty of great days lined up for them.

NEXT. | 04 : ... → | SERIES M.LIST

A/N : it's finally here, my promised, final update before i go on my hiatus. i'm sorry it took me so long to get out to you darlings. after my indefinite hiatus announcement, i got really busy. however, i'm sure you darlings would be happy to know that my situation has gotten better. it's not to the point that i feel like i can comfortably write but i'm definitely getting there so i can confidently say that I can see myself returning from my hiatus later on this year. in the mean time, i hope you darlings enjoy this chapter and please take care! i love you all so much and i'll see you soon x

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