Unfinished But Cured My Daddy Issues, Ben Affleck >>

unfinished but cured my daddy issues, Ben affleck >>

You Can Call Me Bruce...(Part V)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader

Warnings: Age gap, mild swearing (? I think?)

Previous Parts: I, II, III, IV

Dedicated to: everyone who stuck by this story. I apologize for this much delayed update, things had been hectic up until a few days ago, but I’m back now. 

I haven’t tagged anyone in particular because I’ve gone too long to even remember those who requested (please don’t throw rocks), but feel free to inbox and remind me for the next installment–which, most likely, will be the last.

                                                  ~*~*~*~

“You wanted to see me?” Bruce asks.

He’s standing in the kitchen doorway, using his best Batman impression to try and ward off all thoughts that he’s scared. He isn’t scared. He could never be scared. By even harboring such feelings from the start, Bruce knew that it would come to this, and he’s not scared at all because he’s prepared.

He’s prepared to hear Alfred’s disdain.

He’s prepared for judgmental stares and disguised accusations; for wrathful scolding, for raised voices. He’s even ready for things to get physical, worst comes to worst, and Bruce promises he’ll let Alfred win, for he truly deserves all of it what shall be thrown at him.

“Take a seat.” The older man finally speaks, back to the door as he stands at the sink. Water drips from the faucet, drop after drop. It echoes into the otherwise silent room. Bruce moves.

He seats himself at the counter, steepling his hands on top, and with a deep breath, the butler finally turns. Their gazes meet.

“Master Wayne.” He says; to Bruce, it always sounds like a hello or a good morning . Familiar. Routine. Hearing it uttered now with such venom is almost painful.

“You’re quite punctual for things like these.”He says

“Things like what, Alfred?”

“As if you don’t know.”

A silence.

The two friends stare at each other. Neither speaks. Wind whistles through the room, and they sit, reading the lines and wrinkles and creases carved in their faces from all the battles they’ve faced together.

So many.  And saying Bruce doesn’t feel his heart wrench even a little would be a lie.

Alfred is his best-friend. Alfred has always been his best friend. More than anything, he’s almost been like a father to him, and facing him in such a rancorous environment is sickening.

He wants to get up and run away, he now realizes. He wants to elude this conflict. Avoid it. Bury it. If you asked him a second ago if he was afraid, Bruce would have said no, would’ve scoffed at the mere preposition. If you asked him now, he’d say the same thing…

Because he wasn’t afraid.

He was mournful.

Mournful that it had come to this; mournful that he was sitting here, in this kitchen, about to be forced to pick a fight with his best-friend.

“You say you don’t know,” Alfred begins. “…and yet here you sit, wearing that very same scowl of intimidation you give the joker.”

“Is that supposed to make me mad.” Bruce retorts. His voice is harsh,stoic.

He watches the older man’s eyes. And then they soften.

And then Bruce feels a vein in his neck twitch, but he can’t do anything about that, not now. Instead he focuses on Alfred, who just as much is trying to shutter his emotions. This is hard for him too. How can it not be? The two of them are family. To Bruce, Alfred is his only family, and knowing that only makes it harder to pull through.

“Master Wayne…”Alfred says, raising himself to his feet as he saunters over to the sink. The faucet drips and drips in the hanging silence, taunting Bruce.  “I’ve known you all your life. I’ve known you since you were just a boy and I’ve seen you grow. Seen you through all your trials and tribulations, your successes, your failures. I’ve watched become batman and save Gotham and in all that time, I’ve never asked for much.” He pauses, eyes searching, searching desperately for any form of surrender in Bruce’s feature’s.

But he won’t let him have it.

Bruce clenches his jaw. It feels like his teeth just might shatter from the pressure.

“But I ask you now.” He continues.  “Please. Let this one go.”

“Don’t beat around the bush, Alfred.”

“I don’t want to see you going Y/N again, you hear me? I don’t want to even see the two of you in the same room.” He’s straight to the point, not sparing Bruce of the bluntness, and it cuts him like a knife. He tries not show it, clenching his jaw further.

“She’ll be leaving soon.” Alfred continues. “A week. A week and she’ll be gone, and until then I want you to put an end to whatever is going on.”

“Nothing is going on.” Bruce’s voice is leveled and yet firm. Authoritative, like he is a captain ordering his cadet. He can see the scorn, evident and dripping from his features, in Alfred’s face as he scowls.

“Don’t be daft, boy..” he grits. “I saw you, I saw the two of you in your room—“

“We weren’t doing anything!”

“So you mean you were just talking as you said?”

“Yes, Alfred.”

“You mean she was just telling you about her work?”

“Yes!”

“You mean you didn’t try to kiss her?” He bellows, angry, exasperated.

All the blood drains from Bruce’s face.

His skin goes white, as white as snow, as white as the age painting Alfred’s hair. He can feel it: the embarrassment, as now the unspoken is vocalized, the other shoe has dropped. Bruce gulps thickly, and then averts his gaze, breaking his poker face.

“You mean I’m making this up?” Alfred continues. “You mean I didn’t walk in on you ready to soil her innocence.”

“Stop talking like she’s a child.” A vein in Bruce’s neck pops angrily as his fists clench. He knew this was coming right from the start, but hearing it out loud makes him freeze, makes his stomach feel like molten tar. God, how embarrassing. How incriminating.

“Compared to you she is. Compared to you she might as well be in diapers. Age regardless, sir, you’re older. You’re older in soul and you’re older in mind. You’ve seen things….terrible things. That in itself would mark you as ancient, even if you were clocking thirty.”

“You think I don’t know this, Alfred? I do. Goddamn it, I do.” He does. This is why Bruce never wanted this—this is why he kept it hidden away, locked up like a vile and sinful thing that it was; but now it’s out in the open and he feels exposed, vulnerable. They’re telling him things he already knows.

They’re telling him things he doesn’t want to know because knowing them makes him feel even worse. He doesn’t want that and God, he doesn’t want this to be happening but it is and…

“Act like it. You’re not a child.”

Bruce lifts his gaze. “What do you think I plan on doing Alfred? Hmm? Do you think I want to get in her pants?”

“What other motive do—“

“What do you mean what other motive—“

“What is going on?” A voice cuts through their bickering, confused and harried.

Both of them freeze. Bruce feels his heart, formerly rampant and rapidly beating in his chest, still, and he doesn’t want to look, but at the same time it’s tempting because it’s her.

Y/N.

Y/N, standing in the doorway.

Y/N, estranged and weary.

Finally, he gives in and Bruce’s eyes dart to her, raking over her face.  She looks to him. “What’re you two doing?” The young girl asks. “Why are you arguing like this?”

Aflred, standing by the sink, lets his hands slowly lower and unclenches his fist. He swallows. “Y/N….” He admonishes. “Stay out of this.”

“Like I hell I will, Uncle Fred. I just walked in on the two of you nearly tearing each other’s fucking throats out and you think I’m going to let this go?”

He clenches his jaw. “It’s none of your business.”

“Except it is.”

“Y/N.” Bruce cuts through the growing argument, earning the pair’s attention. Y/N’s eyes flare with irritation and the next thing he knows she’s up in his face, but a few inches away.

“You…”The young girl sneers. “What the hell are you doing arguing with him? He’s your family—you’re both each other’s family! You’re not supposed to be spewing hate at each other like this, for Christ sake.”

“You have no right to interrupt like this.” Says Alfred.

Y/N scoffs and rolls her eyes, about to speak, but she’s cut off.

“Go to your room!” He commands, voice dressed in sternness, authoritativeness that Bruce hasn’t heard in so long. He used to use that tone with Bruce when he was just a child, when they’d get into an argument about him disrespecting Alfred or when there needed to be some disciplinary ground rules. It had once been frightening. Hearing it now, however, Bruce feels nothing but scorn well up within him.

His fists clench at his sides as a protectiveness takes over him, and the next thing he knows, he’s standing in front of Y/N, shielding her from her livid uncle. Just to keep from things getting ugly, but he hears something sift behind him. When he turns around, Y/N is glaring at him bitterly, stepping out from behind his burly form with an offended expression marring her features.

“I don’t need you protecting me.” She says, like she’s angry, like him trying to help her is almost as bad as Alfred’s rage. “I’m not a baby anymore. I don’t need you trying to treat me one, Uncle Fred—and I don’t need you trying to stick up for me when I can do it perfectly fine on my own.”

“I didn’t say that you couldn’t.”

“This is outrageous! Both of you,” Alfred cuts in, and then all hell breaks loose, because Y/N starts to argue with him.

Bruce watches from the sidelines, amazed and frightened. It’s a vicious battle. Words fly from person to person, pure venom, bitter, angry. Y/N brings up their family and how everybody still sees her as a baby, and Alfred retaliates by reminding her off all the bad decisions she’s made that have caused that. He’s yelling, going red in the face. It isn’t until he hears a small sniffle that Bruce realizes Y/N is crying.

“Huh, see that—grown girls don’t cry when you tell them the truth!” Alfred yells.

“Shut up! J-just…just shut up.” Y/N drags her hand across her face, trying to dry her eyes but instead smearing her makeup. The entire image is terribly morbid. Her face is red and blotchy, and there are dark trails of mascara running down her cheeks. She’s crying, sobbing, hiccupping and grappling for air to feel her lungs.

Bruce can’t take it.

“Enough, Alfred!” He cuts in, stepping in front of the young girl. This time Y/N doesn’t shove him out of the way; instead, she cowers behind him, accepts his protection, like a weak dog.

He’s shielding her like a large building, sturdy and strong and trying his ebst not to throw a fist into the elder-man’s jaw. “Jesus, Alfred, you didn’t have to be so harsh. What’s wrong with you?”

“I can’t do this master Wayne!” Alfred’s voice is leveled, dangerously low. He has calmed. The vein in his neck has gone back into hiding, but even then, his face is still the color of blood.

“I’m going to make it easy for all of us; either I go, or she does.”

“What?” Both Bruce and Y/N say in unison, before he cans art to feel it. It takes moment. A second. Then it sets in, the realization of what he’s saying.

A pang of pain shooting through him like an arrow, Bruce feels his body go cold.

Alfred’s eyes hold a pain similar to his that say that this isn’t easy for him either. This isn’t what he wants. But what other choice does he have?

“You heard, master Wayne.” The elder man tries to coat his voice with a strength that betrays him when it almost cracks. “It’s either I stay, or she does.”

“Alfred…”

“This entire situation has gone too out of hand. For Christ-sake, Bruce—“ Bruce. Alfred rarely—never—calls him Bruce. He has always been Master, to him. Master Wayne. Sir. Variants of a formality that have never hurt him as much as hearing his own name has now.

Memories of his boyhood flood Bruce, a time when Alfred called him that, the only time. It was so brief. He became Sir at the tender age of thirteen. Years later, and the title has been revoked.

Bruce.

“—I can’t let this happen. Do you realize how much is at stake here? Do you realize how badly the two of you would be together? Y/N, you still have your studies to tend to.”

“I know.”

“Then bloody act like it.”

“Alfred…” Bruce cuts in, and all eyes turn to him.

The room quiets momentarily.

Alfred’s eyes glaze over as he looks at him. Their gazes lock—both pained, both not wanting this to fall through. Why is he letting it, then? Why won’t Bruce just do something, he wonders, until he realizes there’s little to do.

“You have until tomorrow to choose. If you don’t have answer by dawn—” Alfred’s eyes go to Y/N. There are tears staining the apples of her cheeks. “—then I make the final decision. Y/N leaves. You own up to your mistake, and clean up this bloody mess you’ve made.” He says and then, before Bruce, or Y/n or the wind that howls through the hallway, can get anything in, he turns and leaves.

Hiss jaw clenches, and he gulps thickly. The room is silent. Footsteps are heard padding away, further and further, until the only sound left is that of Bruce’s heart wrenching in his chest. 

                                                    ~*~*~*~

Her heart hammers in her chest.

Her breath feels hot and shallow and not enough, and her skin is drained of all its blood and colorless. She’s standing outside his bedroom door. Outside she can hear the hoot of an owl and the whisper of the wind. It’s two in the morning. It’s cold and she’s scared and Y/N immediately regrets having gotten out of bed to come and do this, because nothing good can come of it.

Turn back now, her mind says. Go back to bed. Go back to silence. Don’t tell him how you feel.

But she doesn’t listen.

She knocks gingerly, but it’s feint and barely audible, so she tries once more, curling her fist tighter this time. She watches Bruce, laying in bed with his back to her, stir and then slowly sit up.

“Yeah..?” He groggily asks, rubbing his eyes.

The young girl bites her lip and wrings her hands harder together, her stomach knotting further.

She’s standing in the doorway, one hand up on the wooden frame and the other rested tenderly on the crook of her neck. Her eyes, wet and red, search the darkness for Bruce’s silhouette. He’s sitting at the edge of his bed, sleepy-eyed and dazed as he looks at her.

And y/n feels a chill run down her spine when her gaze locks onto his.

He knows.

Uncle Fred told him. Uncle Fred told him everything. Now, even just standing before him feels so shameful and embarrassing,  like she’s clad in nothing but her skin suit, like she’s exposed. Because she is. Because Bruce knows. Because….

“I thought you were asleep.” He says, pulling her from her reverie.

Y/N gulps as sweat beads at the nape of her neck. He’s awake. At least, she thinks, that spares her the task of waking him up.

“Not yet. I’m…” she stumbles. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

“Nightmares?”

“I wish.” A sardonic laugh escapes the elder man. Y/N clinches her hands tighter together. The room is dark and hot and she can feel her clothes clinging to her body like flesh to her bones.

Bruce cards a hand through his hair, tired, worn out. Even if she wanted to, Y/N wouldn’t be able to dismiss his claims of insomnia—he looks exhausted. Rings of grey brim his eyes and the light once glinting fiercely and vivacious in them has dulled down.

Bruce looks tired. Bruce is tired.

Bruce knows.

“Let’s just say I have a lot to think about.” He explains after a silence.  “That kind of things keeps you up at night, you know?”

“ I know.” She nods curtly, biting her lip. She wants to say something in response—anything—but all coherence escapes her. She’s at loss for words, because what can she say?

The bomb dropped a few hours ago still lingers in the air of the house. It’s been two hours since Uncle Fred left the house; he was emotional and angry when she went to talk to him and he ended up storming out and driving off for a drink (or twenty). Y/N doesn’t mention this to Bruce.

Instead, she tries to gather her thoughts and courage and say something, because who will if not her.

“I….” She starts. His head lifts, attention befalling the young girl.

His brow then furrows softly. “Are…you feeling okay?”

“Uh—yeah…I…I am.”

“You don’t seem like it.”

“Well, not getting any sleep will do that to you.” She quips.

He nods slowly. “Right….”

A silence hangs between them. Neither party says anything for a while, and it’s painful because she came here to speak, to tell him how she felt, to vocalize all this rampant emotion that won’t cease within her, and so Y/N forces the words out of her mouth.

“I have something to tell you.” She says.  She swallows, trying to mollify her nerves. You can do this, Y/N tells herself. You will do this.

“I…Uncle Fred told you already, didn’t he?”

Bruce is quiet.

She waits for a response, one that doesn’t come, until she has top force herself to speak up once more.

“I said Uncl—“

“I heard what you said.” He says curtly, cutting her off.

Y/N closes her mouth, and then mutters a quiet oh. Her heart is racing—God, is it racing—and her lungs constrict and the blood drains from her fingertips and from her face and from her, and Bruce is looking at her with inquisitive eyes that egg her on.

“I know that he told you—obviously. It’s uhm….it’s okay, if you know” Y/N explains, trying (and failing) to not let the desperation seep into her voice. “I wanted to tell you myself, of course, but, having somebody else do it is okay, because the outcome is still the same. You still know.”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“And if I want to?”

“Then you have to stop. Just,…” Bruce sighs, eyes sliding over her face from a few inches away. The room is dim and quiet and her heart is in her throat, but it doesn’t matter, because Bruce is so close, and he knows.

“Just…”.” His voice is different, baring an edge and uncertainty that she has never witnessed before that makes things seem even more eerie. His eyes, a rich grey, bore into hers.

“Stop this, Y/N. Please. Don’t make it harder than it already is.”

“I’m not trying to.” Her eyes water and she shakes her head softly. “Bruce, I…”

“Y/N..”

They’re less than inches apart. Neither of them dare to break eye contact, only leaning closer in, and closer in, and Y/N’s eyes begin to flutter shut, and Bruce doesn’t pull away, and it feels as though the world is fragmented on a cosmic level when their lips meet.

Their mouths are pressed together, and they kiss.

They kiss.

His tongue is warm and wet as runs along her lips. Y/N gladly lets it, lifting her hand to his head to real him closer in. She presses herself flush to his form. Bruce reciprocates, cupping her face in both his hands and maneuvering his lips against hers, and—

“Bruce—“ Y/N tries to speak.

“Just stop.” His breath fans against her skin, against her nose. She lets out a breathy moan as he captures her lips once more, feeling her heart flutter like a cage of untamed birds.

Her hands slide through Bruce’s hair like water when she feels his hands leave her face and go to her waist. He hoists her up, and she jumps, wrapping her legs around him, not caring what they’re doing or what they’re about to do because, god, this feels too good.

They make their way to his bed. Fall onto it. Kiss, touch. Y/N swears that she can feel her soul floating higher and higher until it’s of her body and into the astral plane, watching their two bodies mould together upon the covers. Bruce’s hand slides beneath the fabric of her shirt and she feels a jolt of pleasure at the contact.

“Bruce…” She pants, chest rising and falling rapidly.

He dips his head and slides his lips down to her jaw, to her neck until they’re peppering desperate, wet kisses along her collarbone.  The young girl moans at the contact; her mind is fogging up like a car window on a misty evening. Fear clutches her heart in its icy talons and gives it a firm squeeze. This is wrong—God, this is all so wrong, that she’s certain of as much as she is that the sky is blue…

But Y/N doesn’t want it to stop.

                                               ~*~*~*~*~ Hopefully the wait was worthwhile lol

If you guys enjoyed this then go ahead and like, reblog or just follow to catch any more imagines I post. With my new computer finally in my possession, expect more updates and oneshots coming in.

As always, have a nice day!

no because let’s talk about it 😭 they had so much tension

They made Ben and Evie cute couples costumes for Chillin Like a Villain then said psych

THE VOID

Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader

saw an edit of alicent with static by steve lacy and got inspired . “hope u find peace for yourself”

you’ve known anthony since you were fourteen, back then you used to fawn over him but he only saw you as elosie’s best friend but that all changed when you had been named the diamond of the season, he now saw you as a potential match. a potential bride.

eloise told you how much she hated that you and anthony were courting. she told you that she’d never speak to you again if you married anthony, so you were acting dumb so he wouldn’t be interested but when your father caught on to your scheme he beat you for how you acted in front of anthony.

so to avoid anymore punishment you acted on your best behavior. anthony danced with you thrice and promenaded with you a couple times and that was enough for him to propose. after he asked your father for your hand, he asked you in front of both of your families. in front of his mother and his siblings and your father and uncle. you said yes because you knew if you said no your father would be livid.

you’re only eighteen years old and he is one and thirty so you didn’t really have much in common other than you both liked to read and you both hated losing in pall mall but he was decent to you. he gave you a huge allowance so you’d go shopping if you got bored.which was very often. after your honeymoon you took up the role of the lady in the house, dowager bridgerton moved to another home close by with eloise, francesca and gregory. though you and anthony told them that they could stay they left to give you guys space. well almost everyone.

hyacinth stayed because she “liked the room she has already and she had no need to move”. so it was the three of you most of the time, she became kind of like a friend to you even tho she was only twelve. you wouldn’t call yourself her mother figure because she already had a great mother who was only a few houses down but you knew she looked up to you. you and hyacinth would go gown shopping and would go for strolls in the park. that was the only time you felt joy. anthony would barely speak to you. you didn’t share a room with him. you two would only have sex twice every month so you could try to produce heirs.

dinners were quite. silence only broke if hyacinth spoke. after a while you gave birth to edmund jack bridgerton, so your days were less boring. you’d spend most days with baby edmund and hyacinth. once in a while daphne and violet would visit you. eloise would only speak to you if it was necessary. she called you “lady bridgerton” or “viscountess bridgerton”. most days you cried yourself to sleep.

you felt empty. you missed the girl you used to be. lady y/n was free and fun whilst viscountess bridgerton was a bore and trapped. you had finally had enough when lady whistledown called you a broodmare. a horse who’s only purpose was to breed. you were hurt because it was true.

THE VISCOUNT WHO LOVED ME

tewkesbury x fem!reader

warnings: old time values, misogyny, mature themes, marriage of convenience, love at first sight (tewesbury)

songs: until i found you - stephen sanchez, i hear a symphony- cody fry, good old fashion lover boy - queen, enchanted- taylor swift, head over heels - tears for fears,

the viscount tewkesbury believed in true love. he believed that his perfect match was somewhere out there, he once thought his perfect match was enola holmes but after confessing his feelings to her she sadly shot him down, she didn’t feel the same way at all, not even in the slightest bit.

tewkesbury decided that it was time to move on, he was twenty but he was the viscount, apart of the house of lords and most importantly he wanted a wife to spend time with and a family of his own to take care of. he told his mom that he was interested in finding a match this season and she was more than excited she was absolutely thrilled for him. she really wanted a daughter in law… someone to take her place as viscountess.

not even a week later they had gotten dozens of invites to balls but to tewkesbury disappointment he didn’t find anyone who sparked his interests, but he wasn’t one to give up, he’d attend two more balls this week, he hoped he had better luck.

the lady y/n bennett would make her debut into society at the watson ball tomorrow night, she was very excited. she loved getting all dressed up, she loved party’s and dancing. there was one thing that y/n didn’t love and that was love itself. she didn’t really really hate love she just disliked it a lot.

she didn’t want to get married so quickly but her father was very eager to marry her off to an earl or perhaps a duke. her father was an earl but he wanted his daughter to marry someone with a higher title then himself. y/ns mother was one of the reasons y/n didn’t really believe in love, her mother taught her that it didn’t matter what he looked like or how he acted if he had a higher title you say yes. well now she’s dead so your fate was in your fathers hands

your mother was well, decent but she never really showed you any love or payed u any attention, she couldn’t care less that you excelled at academics. she only cared about your looks. she fell ill last year and died before the season started.

you knew most men only saw women as cattle, they’d use them to breed an heir and that’s about it. men didn’t care if you had a personality or hobbies, as long as you looked decent and had good “birthing hips”. you prayed that at least a decent looking man took interest in you. oh did u have a storm coming.

•

it was the day of the watson ball and you were both excited and extremely nervous, you wore a light purple gown with grey accents. your hair was styled. your ladies maids did your makeup and picked your shoes. after you were all finished you headed down stairs to the living room area. your father was his usual self, serious but very loving towards you.

“y/n you look pretty, your mother would be very proud” he smiled and you nodded and gave a warm smile back. “we should head to the watsons the way isn’t far but i would like to get this over with” he let out a sigh and you followed him to the door.

at bashilwether hall

tewkesbury was trying to remain positive about tonight’s festivities, his mother constantly reminding him that new eligible young ladies would be attending. he just wanted someone to love, someone to start a family with. he was getting awfully bored at bashilwether hall, all those rooms but no kids to fill them up, most men his age would wait until the age of one and thirty to tie themselves down but he was different he didn’t just run on lust. he wanted love.

he and his mother caroline stepped into their carriage and made their way to the watsons manor for their annual first season ball. his mother tried to make small talk by telling him about some of the young ladies that would be attending. “i hear lady bennett is simply breathtaking, maybe you shall make her your marchioness” caroline said in a cheery voice. the young man muttered “maybe mother”

“perhaps lady daphne watson she’s freshly debuted in society, I hear she watercolors” caroline chuckled. “is she well read? does she like flowers?” he questioned. “son… none of these young ladies will tick everything off in your list”.

• 20 minutes later

tewkesbury standing by the dessert table munching on mini chocolate cakes. it had been twenty minutes and still no young lady had ignited a spark in him. many mamas shoved their daughters down his throat. everyone was dancing and mingling but him. the ballroom door was open and it revealed a breath taking young women and who he hoped was her father. he noticed other gentleman take a liking to her. he saw sir peters practically run towards her. this mystery girl in purple was the one for him. he shall have her, she shall become viscountess tewkesbury.

she and sir peters were now dancing, his jaw clenched. this wasn’t a diamond in the rough situation she was like a diamond in the clearest water. a diamond that he and every other lord and maybe even lady wanted. viscount tewkesbury was different from the other men, he was young and more open minded. he was all for women’s rights.

he watched as the lady in purple swayed and danced with dukes, earls and even other viscounts but she didn’t really looked interested in any of them, so he was going to sweep you off your feet and become your knight and shining armor. he knew if anything about courting it’s best to talk to the lady’s father.

so that he did. he walked across the room and introduced himself. “viscount tewkesbury the marquis of bashilwether” he flashed his charming smile. the older gentleman shook his hand and stated his name back. “earl of davenport, edmund bennett”. after conversing with the gentleman for a good thirty minutes he managed to make the man laugh….. edmund hadn’t laughed since his wife died.

“you should meet my daughter. the young lady in light purple. y/n bennett” he pointed out his daughter. “i’d be honored. she’s very beautiful.” he almost stuttered. “oh look the music stopped, let me go fetch my daughter. stay put son.” he patted his arm and went to get his daughter.

after a few minutes of y/ns father shooing away men they finally approached the young handsome viscount. “viscount tewkesbury, this is my daughter’s the honorable y/n bennett.” y/n bowed but she looked rather bored. “viscount tewkesbury the marquess of bashilwether” he grinned and kissed her gloved hand. “y/n darling why don’t you tell the viscount of your hobbies” the man gave his daughter a little nudge. “i- i like to read,write um- walks in my garden. i love flowers” that was the moment tewkesbury knew she was the love of his life. “flowers? something we have in common what’s your favorite lady bennett” before she could answer an much older man approach them. “sir melton, you are very lovely may i have this dance?” tewkesbury mentally cursed at the man, he was way to old to be courting a freshly debuted women. “actually sir. i owe the viscount here a dance” tewkesbury got the hint and took her by the arm. “the viscount has the last slot on her dance card, hurry on children” y/ns father let out taking a drink of his liquor.

with that said you and tewkesbury strolled to the dance floor. “your gown is amazing.” you smiled not to big but it was there. “thank you my lord”. another song started playing and they began to waltz. tewkesbury admired her as she spun around. after a couple minutes of silence between them, y/n bennett spoke with a genuine tone and not a blank one like before. “hyacinths.” tewkesbury was caught by a surprise by her sudden attitude change. “pardon?” he pretended he didn’t hear but… he did.

“if i had to choose a favorite it’d be the hyacinth flower” she smiled and her smile made his legs turn to jelly. “lovely flower for a lovely girl” the music stopped and you bowed. he escorted you back to your father on the other side of the room. “you two would make such a lovely pair” tewkesbury wanted to ask him for your hand already but he knew it was to soon and frowned upon. “father.” y/n grumbled.

“well we should get going. if u intend to court my daughter you best get on the list of callers. a lot have taken interest” you wanted to dig yourself in the ground. “i fully intend to win your daughters hand” he bowed. “it brings me such despair to say goodbye, until tomorrow” you blushed a little

[the carriage ride home]

tewkesbury talked his mothers ear off, he explained to her his plan on winning your heart. caroline was just happy that he was finally happy. “she’s my true love mother, i was foolish to think it was enola” caroline just smiled and nodded. “what will you bring her? when u call on her tomorrow.” she yawned. “hyacinth flowers and maybe some sweets.” “i think i predicted this, i knew you’d pick ms bennett she’s very beautiful and talented.” his mother smiled.

“i was talking to her father and he seems eager to marry her off. it was her mothers wish. she died before the season started.” caroline let out a soft sigh. “how sad. i hope he doesn’t marry her off to the first person that asks. i’d like the engagement ring father gave you.” he cleared his throat. “of course son, i can’t wait for a daughter in law and grandchildren, it won’t be so empty” she smiled just thinking about it. little versions of her son running around would bring her so much joy.

•

the ride home in your carriage was much more quiet. eventually your father broke the silence once he coughed. “the viscount tewkesbury would be a perfect match my dear. he’s only a couple years older than you, he’ll make a fine husband” he let out. you didn’t want to marry this fast. you just wanted to enjoy the season. “he’s alright i suppose” you just closed your eyes wanting to drift off to sleep to avoid this conversation. “duke haselby also was very smitten with you. maybe the duke of hastings he seemed very kind to you.” you ignored him and kept your eyes closed hoping he’d think you were asleep.

“Y/N!” your father raised his voice. you pretended to just wake. “yes father?” you said in a sleepy voice. “I spoke to the boys mother and tewkesbury is very set on marrying this season. he’s going to be on one knee in a fortnight.” you sighed frowning a bit. “I don’t want to wed this fast father, why can’t i just wait until the season is over.” you said in a serious tone giving your father the death glare. “your mother wanted u to…. her dying wish. you’re lucky she’s not here with us, she would’ve married you off to old duke wellings” he yelled and you felt tears stream down your face. “I love you dear. i just want what’s best for you.” you cried until you reached home.

•

it was the next morning and your ladies maids woke you up to prepare you for breakfast. one your ladies maids told you that your father requested that you eat in your room so you can get prepared for the evening. suitors would probably burst down your door in about five hours so you sighed and ate your fruit salad and tea. “I’d like to wear my pink dress today. and i want my hair to be pinned up please” your maid’s comply almost immediately. one gets your pink dress and the others get to work on undressing you to prepare you for a bath.

after your bath, your maid start to do your hair and another one applys makeup. you start to think about what you’ll say to suitors. you don’t want to embarrass your father but maybe if u act unlikable the suitors will leave and never come back. there is both upsides and downsides to that plan. you just hoped and prayed he didn’t show up, tewkesbury was handsome and very wealthy but he just seemed so in love with you and you didn’t like that. love in general made u feel a little weird. you loved your father and uncle but that was family love not romantic. after a while you were done getting ready so you went downstairs to the living room where you knew your father would be residing.

“the callers should be here in an hour” your father grumbled while he read a news sheet. you sighed and sat down on the sofa with your favorite book in hand. a maid entered the room and your father ordered for her to alert the chef to bring out pastries and tea and finger sandwiches for the guests. you rolled your eyes. an hour passed and already you had 14 callers lined up at the door waiting for their turn to meet you. another hour passed and you’ve seen about twenty men, that was way more than you expected but tewkesbury didn’t show.

the last suitor left as his time was up, he wished you and your father a good evening and left. you could tell your father was angry, probably because stupid tewkesbury didn’t show up, he probably realized that love is stupid and he doesn’t like me but before you could bask in your victory, there he was with flowers and chocolate in hand. the butler announced him and your dad grinned. “viscount tewkesbury the marquess of basilwether” the viscount bowed and you got up and did the same.

“i’m sorry i’m late, paperwork got the best of me. here” he handed you a bouquet of hyacinths and a chocolate box, he remembered your favorite flower so you decided to play nice for now. “thank you my lord they are very lovely.” you stared at the flowers in awe, you alerted your maid to take the flowers up to your bedchamber. “should we sit? i’d love to talk more about you. what’s your favorite colors?” you looked at your father who gave you a look of approval so you smiled and sat down next to tewkesbury.

“well if you mean dress colors, i suppose pinks, blues and purples- OH and greens. i love green in everything.” your voice became more cheery and he adored that. “you do look beautiful in purple. i bet you do look stunning in a green one.” he smiled. after some hours of talking he fell more and more in love with you, you checked off everything in his list. loves flowers check! beautiful check! loves to read check. there was just one more thing to ask.

“do you like children?” your eyes widened. he already talks of children? you two aren’t even engaged. “i do” you just smiled because yeah you hated love and the idea of marrying but you loved kids, you especially had a soft spot for your aunts twins. she would sometimes bring her baby’s over when she visits you. you loved them. you didn’t have much family. just your dad, uncle and your mothers sister and her twin sons. “how many would you want?” he cleared his throat clearly nervous. you blinked trying to think of what to say. should you be honest or should you be realistic?? but before you could figure it out your brain just muttered it out for you. “four! three boys and one girl” you saw his eyes soften. “I think that’s a perfect amount of children, you’d be a perfect mother.” he touched your hand and for a second it felt like you two were already married and expecting. “uh thank you my lord, im sure you’d be great father.” he blushed.

after a while he talked to your father, then as it was getting late he left. you knew this wasn’t gonna be the last time you see him. oh no! this was just the beginning.

four weeks later

it had only been four weeks since they met but tewkesbury was already one hundred percent sure he wanted you now and forever. so he planned on asking for your hand at tonight’s ball. he was so happy about his future for once. you two would get married in a couple months and then you’d move in with him, you’d start taking on some of the viscountess duty’s and then maybe in a years time…. you’d have children.

an hour passed and he let other men dance with you because he knew you’d be his very very soon. he spotted edmund and informed him of everything. your father was excited he shook the boys hand gave him permission. “you have my blessing” your father happily said while him and tewkesbury raised their cups for a toast. you were dancing with a duke and so very oblivious to what your father agreed to.

after a while you started snacking at the dessert table. there you saw your father and tewkesbury talking but not just how normal gentleman talk like how a family would talk. you wanted to yell at your father and ask him what they were talking about. you were wearing a yellow gown, your father picked it. it wasn’t hideous but still yellow was just not the color you were feeling on this cold fall night. you would’ve wore a dark purple if you had the choice.

you started to feel tired so you walked across the ballroom and alerted your father that you wanted to go home. he grunted probably annoyed at you but he agreed and he apologized to tewkesbury for cutting there conversation short.

•

the carriage ride was peaceful until your father cleared this throat. “I know you’ve only knew the viscount for a while now but-“ you cut him off and this time you were going to be honest. “he’s great father. very handsome and yes he sent me a mountain of gifts but I don’t want to marry him” you’re fathers face turned purple… he was going to freak out. he was going to yell at you and you knew it.

“Being a marchioness is an honor you know!, an honor you will get used to” he calmly said. he didn’t yell. “I don’t want to be married, I’m only eighteen i just left the schoolroom father. can’t i just participate in next year’s season ill be nineteen and ready.” your father scoffed. edmund cleared his throat and simply said. “if the viscount tewkesbury proposes to you…” he huffed. “you will accept with a smile on your face” tears came out of your eyes as you pleaded with him. “do u understand me girl?”

“yes father.” was all you could say. you knew that viscount tewkesbury would propose soon, and you’d have to say yes… with a smile on your face.

•

it was about a week later, it was a friday morning and you got up bathed, brushed your hair and got dressed. the night before your father told you tewkesbury and his mother caroline were coming over for dinner, he also told you to wear your new blue dress with the gold detail. you knew that this was a proposal dinner. you sighed. the ladies maids left your room as you huffed and threw yourself on your bed. hopefully your makeup wasn’t smudged.

you woke up to the sound of your ladies maid calling your name out. “ms bennett? miss? y/n?.” she shook you up. did you seriously fall asleep? “miss it’s been hours the viscount will be here soon, let’s get you freshened up.” you did as she said and to your surprise it was already dark outside… YOU SLEPT THAT LONG??!!!!!. you jumped out of bed and looked in your mirror. “I’ll just fix your hair miss, your makeup is still on” and so you let her. she did it quickly and you thanked her. you basically ran down the stairs into the dinning room.

“daughter our guests will arriving soon, take your seat. if tonight is thee night.. you shall do as your told.” he chuckled drinking the brandy from his cup. “i get it” you sat down and started mentally planning your death. thirty minutes passed and tewkesbury and his mother arrived, you got up from your seat and bowed to them both. caroline walked over to you looking you up and down and she hugged you. it felt nice… motherly love you never got. you hugged back and after a minute or two you both pulled away.

dinner went by fine, your dad and tewkesbury bonded over well… you. you and caroline had so much in common. she told you that in bashilwether they had a french modiste who did amazing dresses with embroidery. dessert came around and it was probably your favorite the chefs ever made. it was a chocolate croissant. after dessert, you four took the party into the living room where you and caroline continued to talk. the night was going well until tewkesbury walked over to you and got down on his knees. “will you do me the honor of becoming- viscountess tewkesbury the marchioness of bashilwether? be my wife??” you looked to your father who gave you a stern look, you wanted to cry.

“yes, i would be honored” caroline cheered and so did your father and the servants. tewkesbury slipped the ring on your finger and got up and hugged you. carrying you and spinning you. you put on a fake smile, this was going to be your new life.

“SAY YES, SAY YOU WILL BE MY VISCOUNTESS”

songs i listened to: 200% akmu, sofia clairo

this is super short but i just wanted to get something out and i thought this was a cute scenario.

Viscount Tewksbury x Fem Reader 🫶🏻

“Have you ever thought of marriage” Tewksbury asked you as he watched you twirl around his garden.

“Every lady has my lord” you smiled at him , he followed you around his garden as you smelled each and every flower.

“As you know I’m looking for a lady to uh” he cleared his throat “to uh help me extend my family name”.

“So your looking for a bride so she can have your babies? ” you laughed at the thought of mini Tewksburys running around.

Tewksbury turned red “and to love of course, would you like to have children?” he asked waiting on a answer.

“yes but I’m far to young. I’m only eighteen and besides I don’t have any offers yet” you looked at Tewksbury with a fake frown , he rolled his eyes

“You have one” he smiled softly at you

“From who?” you looked confused.

“Me?” he got down in front of you on his knee

“What are you doing my lord , get up” you gave him a shocked expression.

“I want to spend everyday with you, I want to wake up next to you. Will you marry me? Will you be my Viscountess” he took out a box from his jacket and opened it revealing a gorgeous emerald ring. “I can offer you everything you’d ever want”

“Tewksbury- I don’t know what to say” your eyes widened when you saw the big gem, no it was because you never thought a viscount would propose to you

“Say yes , say you will be my Viscountess” he smiled up at you with his golden brown eyes.

“Yes! I will be your Viscountess” you felt tears in your eyes as Tewksbury put the ring on your finger. He picked you up and spun you in the air then kissing you passionately when he softly put you down.

sorry for barely updating i had summer classes 💀

I WANT THE MIRROR SCENE 😣🫶🏻

I'm saying this right now for all who will listen -

they fucking BETTER have just as many romance scenes for Penelope and Colin as they did for the other two.

I don't want cutesy little kisses (I mean I do, but...).

I want passionate, hot, steamy scenes because it's what they fucking deserve.

I swear if they pull ANY punches because Penelope isn't as "traditional" as the other girls I will fucking start such a riot, it'll make everyone's heads spin.

thank you and have a good rest of the day