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You’re so real for making the reader modern to imagine her as yourself, I love it. I’d love more of ABO Bridgertons if you want to write it, completely your choice though 💚

Aww, thank you 🥰 normal fics where you're already in the universe are great but sometimes you're delulu enough to daydream a way in which you, this current version of you, could get with your faves.

Wastes lots of time but keeps the depression away! Lol anyways, have the extra scene I wanted to write but I wanted validation and comments now and decided to not write it in favor of publishing NEOW

It's a full week and five whole days before Benedict can see you face to face again- and not for lack of trying. He had called on you every day since the Danbury ball, left letters expressing how important it was that you meet him and talk with him- but apparently there was an emergency in Lennox estate that you needed to take care of. He didn't quite believe that because every time he visited your home, your scent was fresh- meaning you've been there recently. Each day it got a bit stronger, a bit better defined- and in turn, his alpha got wilder, more desperate. Colin and Anthony were annoyed at him (and a bit worried), his alpha being restless caused their alphas to be too- being part of a pack affected you like that.

Of course he had tried to explain to both of his brothers and the rest of his family that he was wound tight because his omega was about to present and she didn't fucking know! No one believed him, of course. You were past your twenty years of age, there were absolutely no cases of presentations coming after the twentieth birthday and yeah, he couldn't quite explain it either but he knew it was true.

After three days of your butler saying the same (and Benedict not believing him), he was only allowed to stay the polite 15 minutes and then he was promptly shown the door. Throughout all those 15 minutes, he would sit in your drawing room stubbornly, having a stare down with your butler. Ben didn't quite care how impolite he was being, or how much the butler's hate he was accumulating- he needed you to know he, one of your alphas, was there. You wouldn't recognize it consciously but your omega would feel better and frankly, that was more than enough for Benedict to keep doing it even if it meant all your staff came to hate him. He also left you increasingly desperate letters, deciding to scent the paper (rubbing it against his neck and wrists until his skin was raw), in an attempt of having you open the letter.

Despite all of that, he only gets to see you in a public event next- at the Queen's luncheon, of all things. Everyone in his family seemed endlessly annoyed with him, but he didn't quite care. He needed to be close to you, now.

He was bouncing his leg, looking out the carriage window and shifting his position every two minutes or so. Anthony was taking deep breaths, presumably to stop himself from punching Ben- but fortunately for everyone, Violet had decided to ride with them. She gently placed her hand on Ben's knee to stop him from bouncing it, then lowering his hand from his mouth to avoid him biting his nails further.

"Son," she calls gently. "You need to calm down, okay?"

"I'm sorry, mother," he says sincerely, his eyes straying back to the carriage window. He notices they're close and so he searches for your distinctive carriage in the crowd. "I just... I'm so worried about her."

"For the last fucking time-" Anthony starts, exasperated, so past his limit, the veins on his forehead bulging with the stress he places in his jaw to hold himself from yelling.

"Anthony," Violet shuts him with a simple snap of his name and a glare.

"Mother, he's been saying this for more than a week!" Anthony is so done. He's angry his brother is still going on with the drunken ravings of a lunatic- the first night, he had thought it was just the alcohol but at this point he was seriously considering calling a doctor to check him out. He understood being stubborn but this was unreasonable.

"And I will continue to do so," Benedict said resolutely. "I don't see it as logical either, Anthony but she knew my scent!"

"Any omega could've told her about your scent! She's friends with Eloise and with Miss Featherington! I don't suppose you think of any of them as our mates" he says bitingly.

"She thought my scent was safe!" Ben emphasized, ignoring the obvious taunt in his brother's voice. "You didn't see it, Anthony. She had no idea what she was doing, but she sniffed me. She didn't know that alphas don't wear scents. Even Colin," he pointed at their third brother who was currently pretending not to be there, "said that she commented on being overwhelmed by the smell of all the suitors trying to dance with her! She doesn't have a clue!"

"She does seem... confused on very basic aspects of omega and alpha lives," Colin concedes, quietly. "However, it may be because she didn't grow up in England- we barely know anything about her life before entering the ton, maybe she just wasn't exposed to much information back where she gre up."

"She doesn't know and she didn't just guess any scent- I bet that with enough time, she could get to the heart of each of our scents, without even needing to mate," Ben is adamant and hopeful that this time, his brother's will listen. He knows that what he's saying might be too hard to believe, he's had to face that reality for 12 whole days now; but he knows it's true. You're not only an omega, or even a compatible omega- you're their omega. A true, fated bond- one only proven by being able to smell the heart of the scent of your mate before even mating. Every alpha and omega had surface scents that represented them as people, things that had to do with their personality in some way- a presentation card of sorts; but alphas and omegas also had a "heart" scent, a scent that tended to be similar to something edible and often times, appetizing. A heart scent was intimate and only able to be perceived by mates- in normal cases, once the mating rituals were done and settled; in very special cases, like their mother and father, before that.

Anthony scoffed, "I find it hard to believe any lady, even one from a poor upbringing, ignores that much about societal cues. If all you say is true, it only proves that she's a manipulative beta bitch."

It was quite fortunate that Violet and Colin were there to hold back Benedict from clocking Anthony in the face.

"Boys!" It's Violet's exasperated voice and the scent of her distaste that made all of their children freeze. Anthony and Ben were lowly growling at each other still, fangs clear and visble- ready to fight. However, the carriage stopping was what they needed to calm a little, Ben rushing out to get a scent of fresh air, but more importantly, start looking for you.

Anthony, Colin and Violet stay in the carriage a bit longer. Anthony tries to control himself, tries to reign in his alpha and swallow back the bitterness in his mouth- both for the almost fight with his brother and for having insulted you. Of course there was no way you heard it or even would know about it, but still, a part of him felt disgusting, heavy, leaving an acrid taste in his mouth, almost as punishment for his words. Not that he doesn't deserve the guilt he's feeling (he believes that all he feels is guilt, what else could it be?), you don't deserve to be talked about with anything short of respect and admiration. Out of all the Bridgerton brothers, he's the one who has spent more time by your side and he knows you're amazing, kind, smart and witty. While at first he thought you would just be a good ally to have (after all, you were the closest person he knew to the crown, the only person he had heard had talked to King George in recent years and your title was far above his own, being only trumped by the crown it's le fin terms of power and influence), he had grown fond over you. Your presence was the highlight of his day, since you visited him or sent him letters almost daily to prepare yourself for meetings at the House of Lords and Parliament- those meetings becoming much more entertaining and, dare he say, enjoyable, since you attended them. He was surprised at your sharp wit, the way you would counteract arguments senior members had spent months perfecting, picking them apart in less than an hour. You were impressive and he couldn't help the way he felt attracted to you, despite your status as a beta. If only he was a beta too, he probably would have asked for your hand at least three times by now- but he wasn't, he was an alpha, and only an omega could truly match him. Even if he fought tooth and nail for you, to stay together, in the end, things would fall apart. Both because he was a very passionate man (and he'd admit that the idea of not being able to ever own your body for fear of hurting you with his alpha anatomy and needs would drive him crazy), and because he would eventually find his fated mate, a call and need he wouldn't be able to resist. Trying anything past a friendship with you was a sure way for everyone to be hurt.

Which is why when Ben started repeating over and over that you were their omega, Anthony was the most affected by it. It was a lovely fantasy, he could understand Ben longing for you and convincing himself you were their omega while being drunk- but to keep insisting on it after he sobered up? To spend days visiting your house and letting rumors spread without a second thought? It was madness and quite irresponsible.

Still, his frustrations didn't justify having insulted you in any way. He could recognize that. He'd make sure to make it up to you somehow, at the very least to calm his guilt (hopefully once he did, the terrible taste in his mouth would disappear).

"Anthony?" Violet called his name for the third time, her worry evident. At some point her and Colin had gotten out of the carriage and apparently we're waiting for him to do the same. "If you don't feel okay for today, I can ask John to take you back home and come back for us later. It's no trouble," she assured him and he tried to smile for her, trying to calm her worries.

"I'm fine, mother," he says, finally getting off the carriage and nodding at John, signalling he could continue as planned, getting their carriage with the others and waiting for them to be ready to get back home.

As he starts walking through the flower arches, he's amazed by the extravagance of the events hosted by the queen. A quick look around has his head already slightly throbbing with the amount of information to process-unlike a Featherington ball, the colors aren't garish and too bothersome, in fact, everything combines quite nicely in pastels and flowery arrangements, a classy ordeal all together and very much an outdoors party.

It's still early, people are just starting to file in and greet the queen. He tries to gather his whole family so they can go pay their respects together, as they should, but he doesn't find Ben anywhere. He gets a bit worried, thinking his brother is definitely not in his right mind and the heated exchange of words in the carriage may have been too much. He's about to tell his mother of such concerns when his breath catches in his throat.

Passing through the flower arches, there you are. A vision that almost blinds him, he almost thinks he's having hallucinations of a higher power. You're dazzling with your yellow dress with floral arrangements, a headpiece resembling the glittering halo of the sun and the sign of holiness in so many paintings- it suits your hair beautifully. For once, he admires your hair in an updo, rather than falling down naturally, covering your neck and drawing attention to your shoulders- the skin looks soft and unblemished, barely covered by a see-through type of cloth that Anthony hasn't seen before. Then again, he's not sure anyone has ever seen such beauty as yourself. To think that he could never even aspire to be yours or to have some of your love deeply hurts him- he doesn't know why.

Then he sees you're holding someone's arm and... Is that his brother?!

On your end, however, things don't feel so glamorous. You are dead tired, cranky and uncomfortable. The whole week, you had been tending to one of your estates' towns children- there was a sudden epidemic of measles and you had to vaccinate them all with modern medicine, as well as take care of the infected and sick children. The parents were a big help, but still, it wasn't fun to have to check up on a bunch of sick kids every few hours and assure the parents they were going to be fine with enough time. It also wasn't the least bit fun that an omega woman had gone into labor during one of your visits and, lo and behold, she was having complications. You were by no means an expert in gynecology or neo natal care, but knew enough to do a C-section and deliver her twin babies safely. Balor had exchanged you a random act of chaos that involved an ability of yours in exchange for making sure the woman didn't get any nasty infections because of being unable to do her surgery in a clean room.

The townspeople didn't ask lots of questions anymore, since you had helped them and cured them since you had taken control of the estate, they just seemed grateful... Of course that meant that there were many rumors about you being a witch (which, considering you did make a deal with a demon of sorts, you kinda are) or just a saintess in disguise. You didn't care which they chose to believe as long as they didn't involve the church. Which, if they wanted their people to keep healthy, they wouldn't do.

However, these problems occupied almost your whole days and, to keep your meetings with the king, you had to use Valor's tele-transportation powers (wormholes) to keep up with it all- and it was tiring. You're grateful your staff at Lennox House in London were used to this craziness and barely bothered you; instead having your meals and baths ready when needed. There was something that bothered you a bit, your body feeling sore and hot at the most random moments, specially when you walked near your office or drawing room- but you had been so busy the last 12 days, you had thought it was simply a cold about to happen.

When finally, the crisis at Lennox estate seemed to be over, you had been informed by the queen that you were expected to attend her garden party the same day. She didn't like excuses, so you didn't even try to tell her how tired you were- instead, you simply took one of your pretty and modern dresses, a headpiece you never had an occasion to wear and hoped for the best. In this particular case, the best was for the queen to deem your headpiece blasphemous for imitating the sun in holy paintings, or even reprimanding you and not letting you in because of your scandalous dress (you had more scandalous options, for sure, but you also knew the queen was stubborn and if your plan didn't work, this was a good dress to walk around during a hot summer afternoon). You wish she will just dismiss you- despite it meaning Mary Anne's hard work at brushing your hair, placing the headpiece and covering your neck (a specific request from you that you didn't quite understand all that well yet) and doing your make up, would all go to waste.

Balor had, surprisingly, asked you if you wanted to stay back and assured you he would back you up if you decided to stay home. Unfortunately, you knew it would cause less fuss to just present yourself at the event, stay for an hour or so and go back home- if you didn't attend, Charlotte would remind you of it for weeks to come during breakfast. Still, you weren't feeling your best- you're quite sure you're starting to run a slight fever. The feeling of discomfort made you stumble when you were stepping down your carriage and Balor had silently helped you down, keeping close to help you stand upright if needed. You try to dismiss him, taking a deep breath- and it's all that you needed. There's a hint of a delicious and familiar scent in the air- fresh paint and linen. It almost makes you want to smile, a tiny signal from the universe or fate that maybe today wouldn't be so horrible. Not that you believe in fate, but with how tired you are? You'll take what you can get. So, you shake your head and just as you walk towards the floral arches, your vision is obstructed by someone. The fresh linen scent is so close and lovely, you almost can feel your favorite blanket with the same scent in your fingertips.

You look up at the person in your way and blink in surprise. "Ben?"

"Y/N," he sighed, almost relieved and you saw him take another step forward, his hands reaching for you. The gesture made your stomach do a flip, making you nervous and excited. There was a hum in your mind, pushing you to embrace him, to reach for his hands and place them on your waist, to get him closer, closer, closer and be protected by him, hugged tight. Oh, there's a lovely scent of strawberries and cream that just makes you want to bite his neck and...

Stop. You do not know where those thoughts came from. You're not eager to know, either. So you simply do the reasonable thing and take a small step back- for some reason, you feel like the worst person in the world when the man in front of you frowns and drops his hands, placing them by his back as it was proper.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Bridgerton?" You ask after a few seconds of silently looking at each other.

"Y-yes, your grace, I'm fine," he nods before clearing his throat. He looks around and seems to notice you were about to make your entrance, and so, he gallantly offers his arm for you. "Would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to greet the queen, my lady?"

You smile at him before nodding. As soon as you take a step forward, you both take a deep breath and it's bliss for a second. Your lungs are filled with his scent, the strong comfort of fresh linen, wet soil and wet paint makes your tense shoulders drop, the exhaustion deep in your bones to disappear and your smile to brighten. You feel energized and so, you place your left hand in his elbow and get close to him, without much thought. He smiles down at you and you could swear there's something different about the way he's looking at you now- something softer, brighter in a way. It makes your throat itch and the craving you have for strawberries and cream gets worse, for some reason.

You blink away the fog that's rapidly covering your mind and, with a sheepish smile, feeling embarrassed for having been staring into his eyes for god knows how long, you start walking (you're a bit eager to find where they're serving strawberries and cream so you can have some). You pass the arches and he seems to stand straighter as you're in front of the ton- you don't look around or meet anyone's gaze but the Queen's.

Her face usually remains stoic or in a disgusted frown, but you see her demeanor shift when she catches sight of you, the ends of her frowned mout lifting ever so slightly. You cross your fingers as you walk towards her, still hoping she will turn you away.

"Duchess of Lennox," she greets with a pleased full smile and you know that your plan has failed, "pleasure to see you here."

You sigh, genuflecting with Ben, before standing back up and answering. "Your majesty, it's my honor to be invited to your luncheon. Lovely decoration, as always," you compliment before taking a step back, wanting to back out and get out of her sight as soon as possible.

She stops you, however. "Is this Mr. Benedict Bridgerton?" She asks and you look at her with a small frown. Does she happen to know the names of everyone in the ton?

Before you can answer, Ben smiles and bows his head. "Yes, your majesty."

"You're an alpha, correct?" Her tone is a bit stricter than how she talks to you and you feel Ben tensing up a bit before he nods.

"I am."

"Good," the queen sounds smug for some reason. "Be sure to take care of my little sapphire for the evening, Mr. Bridgerton."

"I will, your majesty," he says, rather solemnly. With that, she nods and then lets you leave.

"Sorry about that," you say with a mortified smile. "She sometimes acts like a mom to me, I don't mind it but you definitely don't have to take care of me or anything."

"Nonsense," he says, honestly quite relieved to have an excuse to be around you for the evening. He wants to ask you where you've been, if you've been avoiding him, if you've read his letters- but with the way you act so casual with him, he can tell that the answer to his last question is negative. He sighs, trying to calm himself down, and smiles at you. "Would you mind if we go greet my family, little duck?" He asks, loving the way you smile at him. It's so dazzling, he feels like the sun shining on him for the first time in his life.

"I rather like that idea, Mr. Bridgerton," you say playfully, happily following him back to where all his siblings and mother are. "Good afternoon, Bridgertons," you say once you're in front of them, bowing your head slightly.

They mostly correspond the gesture, but all seem a little... uncomfortable.

"Your royal highness," Violet addresses you, "a pleasure to see you again. Your dress is... just magnificent," she compliments sincerely. "I don't think I've ever seen a dress so regal, with so much detail."

You smile, feeling a bit guilty. "Yes, it's quite beautiful," you concede. "The women in Lennox estate are learning new fashion techniques and this is just one of them," you comment, implying you got the dress from the upcoming modistes of your villages. It's not a complete deception; you've given the women willing to work as modistes and designers several books on several dresses and styles that are about to become popular. You've chosen a few you like and trust to start commissioning them dresses with more modern styles and advanced techniques; you know that wearing these kind of dresses is bound to set a trend and, it's something your people could cash in on. "I'll be sure to bring one of them to London to take your measurements, Lady Bridgerton."

"Oh!" she blinks, surprised. "That's... very generous, your grace, but I'd rather-"

"They would take your daughters' measurements as well, viscountess," you interrupt with a soft giggle. "A mother as loving as yourself could never forget placing her brood before her; it's quite admirable."

"Thank you, your grace," she says sincerely, bowing her head. She releases her eldest son's arm and turns to her daughters to share the news excitedly.

While you were talking to their mother, you had noticed that Anthony and Benedict had been having another silent conversation. This one much more tense than the one you had briefly seen during the Danbury ball- and because of that same tension, you decided to pretend you weren't aware of it.

However, when you had tried to subtly slip your hand from Ben's arm to walk away, their attention immediately snapped to you- with Benedict using his other hand to place it over yours to hold you in place. Their penetrating gazes made you a bit nervous as you smiled nervously at them.

"Lord Bridgerton," you decided to simply act as if nothing was amiss, greeting him pleasantly.

"Your royal highness," he said with a small bow and you sighed, kinda hating how formally he still said your honorary title. "My mother is right; your dress is stunning."

You look down at yourself and hum, "Thank you. I was kinda hoping the queen would hate it and send me away," you confess, conspirationally. "But, she seemed to like it," you sigh, defeated.

"Were you hoping to make her jealous of your beauty and good taste, your grace?" Colin asks with a charming smile, walking to Anthony's side and joining their conversation.

You can't help the way you scrunch up your nose at his comment, shaking your head. "Of course not," you dismiss. "I was simply hoping she thought of my dress as inappropiate for a family friendly luncheon. I'm showing my shoulders and all," you say, sarcastically pointing at your neck and shoulders.

They follow your delicate hand's movement and their gazes get darker, all of them focusing on your pretty neck, partially covered by your hair. Unfortunately for Ben, where your mating and scent glands should start appearing is very much covered by hair.

You notice, however, they're all intensely staring at your skin and you wonder if you have something there- your skin has been itching for days so maybe you developed a rash and didn't notice it earlier today? You're about to bring your hand back to your neck and ask them if there's something wrong, when you're all startled by a young voice calling your name.

"Y/N!" it's Eloise, calling for you. Again, you try to take your hand off of Ben's arm but he doesn't let you. You briefly look at him in questioning and he just gives you a nervous smile- it gives you the first clue that something's not quite right.

You ignore that feeling for the time being, turning to Eloise and smiling as she arrives by your side.

"Eloise, hi," you greet and she stops abruptly, seemingly taking a moment to analyze you. Her nose twitches and you think it's kinda adorable, more so when you recognize that gesture as a family feauture- you've seen Anthony do the same.

"Uhm, well, first of all, you... you smell different," she says, out of the blue. You have to take a moment to remind yourself that scent is a thing in this universe, a pretty big thing. So, saying stuff like that is not rude or crazy, it's just... common. Before you can even come up with an answer, she continues. "But nevermind that, I heard my mom complimenting your dress," she comments and you had a sense she was going to continue, but stays silent.

"Uh... yes, yes she did," you nod, curious as to what exactly does she want to get at but hesitates to.

"And you said something about...," she hesitates again, not looking you in the eyes. She takes a deep breath before continuing, "About bringing the modiste to London, to take our measurements-"

"Eloise," you interrupt, already sensing where she's going. "If you don't want a dress like mine, full of details and flowers, that's fine. But I won't withdraw my offer and I won't have the modiste take everyone's measurements but yours," she's about to whine, and you raise your hand, silently ordering her to hold her complaint. "However, I promise if you bear the torture of being measured and having a dress tailor made for you, I will take you to a bookshop and buy you all the books you can buy with a month's worth of your pin money," she immediately perks up at that, even clapping her hands a bit excited.

"Thank you, Y/N! You're the best," she says excitedly hugging you before she turns and goes to Penelope, probably to share the good news. You'll have to make sure that Eloise invites Penelope over when you bring the modiste, so she can have a new dress as well.

You smile, looking around at the Bridgerton siblings, George and Hyacinth bickering over something or other, while Frannie stays quietly watching them and probably avoiding their quiet argument to get too loud. It's an idyllic scene of a happy family, staying close and as a group in a social situation. You're enjoying just watching them when you start feeling an awful cramp in your lower belly, the discomfort you've been quietly suffering for days, suddenly worsening.

You can't help the small frown and the way your free palm goes to your belly, trying to soothe the pain instinctively.

"Are you okay, little duck?" Ben asks, the arm that he was holding out for you now around you, pulling you closer. "Do you need something? Does something hurt?"

You notice Anthony is glaring at his brother and you assume it's because of how improper it is for his brother to hold you so closely in such a public space, despite your obvious presentations of alpha and beta. So you smile, ignoring the pain and placing your hand on his chest, trying to gain some distance (it doesn't work).

"I'm fine, don't worry," you assure him. "I'm just tired, after a full week solving problems in Lennox estate, I wasn't looking forward to coming to a garden party. It's just the heat and lack of proper rest, no need to worry," you dismiss.

However, your sentence has the opposite effect. Instead of calming Ben down, you sense you've managed to worry all three alphas.

"Your grace, you shouldn't have come if you felt so poorly," Anthony admonishes and you almost smile at how serious he sounds.

"Do you feel dizzy, your royal highness? Shall I fetch you a chair for you to sit?" Colin offers, visibly worried.

You almost laugh at how attentive they're being. It must be nice for omegas to receive such attention from their mates often- at least, nice in small dosages. You're not sure you'd be able to cope with being treated like a doll for longer than a month before snapping at someone. It was such a blessing to be just a beta. You manage to shrug off Ben's arm around you, taking his hand and placing it back on his chest and away from you. Quickly, you release it, feeling triumphant that you've finally separated from him.

"I'm fine," you assure, taking a step back, "I'm just a little hot and I forgot to bring a fan-" before you finish explaining, you feel a violent gush of air near your face. "W-what?" You blink, startled and turn to where the air is coming from, finding Ben with a fan, aggressively fanning in your face. You try to hold his wrist, push him away but he's adamant. "Benedict!" You sputter, closing your eyes when the air gets more intense. "Stop!" He immediately does but still holds the fan up.

"Was that better? Should I go slower?" He asks, genuinely concerned and you sigh. Gently, you use the hand on his wrist to gently take the fan from him. Now that's in your hands and not moving, you see it's a lady's fan... And a familiar one at that. You look around and find Eloise a few steps behind you, arms crossed as she glares at Ben.

"Did you... Did you steal Eloise's fan?" You ask, trying not to laugh

"I borrowed it," he corrects. "You were feeling warm!" He justifies his action and you chuckle lightly, turning to Eloise and handing her fan back. She narrows her eyes at Ben before she smiles at you.

"It's okay, Y/N, you can keep it. Pen has one and we'll both go to that bench under the shade- I won't need it," she says before she glares at her brother again and takes Penelope's arm, starting to walk away.

You hum, thankful as you open the fan and start moving it a bit more delicately to help with your discomfort. "I suppose that despite the unlawful way you got it, I still owe you my thanks for the fan, Mr. Bridgerton."

"I will take your thanks in the form of you taking my arm again," he says, offering you his elbow for you to settle your hand in again. "I am your designated protector for the evening. The queen herself asked me to take care of her sapphire," he says cheekily and you sigh. You look at his face then at his outstretched arm- a trap you had just freed yourself of not even five minutes ago. He raises his eyebrows as you consider it carefully- you notice they darken when you take a step back.

"I think I'd rather walk around, actually," you say, gesturing around you with a nervous smile. The scent of strawberries and cream gets stronger- a bit acrid too, like someone pouring whiskey into the sweetness and overlapping the flavors. It makes your nose twitch as you distractedly look around for the damned dessert table that has to be nearby. Aside from the strawberries and cream you can now distinguish some apple with caramel, and something with honey and chocolate- you're not sure what, but it's all making your mouth water. "Do you happen to know where the snacks are?" you ask, ready to turn to wherever they point to satisfy your ever growing craving.

"Y/N," Ben calls- and his voice dips, sounding serious. For some reason, your head automatically snaps to him, focus completely on him. Your mind is blank, just staring at him. "Take my arm, little duck," he says, still in that low tone. You don't even hesitate, placing your hand right back in the crook of his elbow and placing yourself nice and pretty beside him, fanning yourself delicately.

Then you blink and your thoughts are your own again, as well as your actions and you tense.

What the hell was that?

You frown, blinking so much you might make yourself dizzy- then you look up at Ben, confused. He smiles but you notice he's nervous and holding his breath. His eyes dark and a bit guilty- but there's a satisfaction to his stance, as if he knew something you didn't. You lean your head, intent on quietly asking him what the fuck is happening and what exactly he's not telling you, when you notice your slight movement has made him tense up much more. He's sweating and clenching his jaw, abruptly turning his head away from you and placing his free hand in a fist near his nose. This just makes you even more confused. Maybe it's you? You had a shower right before getting ready for the event and perfumed your skin as usual. Maybe your perfume was too strong? You have heard that alphas and omegas have a more sensitive sense of smell than a beta; and despite what many beta debutantes may want to believe, a scented oil made to mimick the natural scent of omegas wasn't the same- at least, that's what you've heard the "gentlemen" from the house of lords comment. Often times, they complain about how awful and nauseating the strong oils could be to an alpha and something inside you shrivels up and wants to die at the mere thought that your scent repulses Benedict- a thought and reaction you are not going to analyze further.

However, you do try to separate from him- since he's not exactly acting like he's enjoying your presence beside him. However, when you try to pull away, he shifts drastically again, turning to completely face you- looking down at your offending hand: still trapped in his elbow but not gripping him back. He glares at it, like your hand has personally offended him and his mother, then he looks at you with a small frown before he abruptly releases you. You think you've won, stumbling half a step back before he pulls you to him with both hands, almost smushing your face against his chest if you hadn't tensed up at the right moment. He has the further audacity to use your closeness to pull you to his side, using his previously occupied arm to place it around you and secure himself by your side while he pulls your right arm to hug him in turn. Liberties only allowed to married couples or mated pack members in the ton.

You frown up to him as he grins down at you. You have a staring contest that you refuse to lose, both raising your brows higher, standing straighter and straighter until you catch yourself leaning on your tiptoes- it's ridiculous and you're both holding a laugh, and are interrupted by a very loud cough. You're, unfortunately the first to look away and search for whoever is interrupting you- this, of course, causes Benedict to laugh triumphantly. Said laugh stops, of course, when he gets to meet his older brother's face just as you are.

"We're still here," he says, rather annoyed. "All of the ton is, in case you had forgotten," he is looking at Ben as his voice takes a more strict and slightly angry tone, but you struggle not to physically shrink despite it not being a direct line at you.

Before you can answer, apologize or even try to play it off, Ben holds you closer and has the audacity to take a very loud sniff of your hair, sigh in delight before he says: "Were you? I swear, the scent of the plants and flowers from her majesty's garden are so exquisite, one could almost forget the whole world. The lemonade is so refreshing today, so citrusy," his emphasis on the last word seems to be taunting but you don't get exactly why or how that could be a taunt.

Somehow, you feel Anthony's anger without having to directly look at him. You wish you weren't involved in this and instead, were let to your own devices to go search for those delightful desserts you keep picturing every time you take a breath in. You feel abnormally distressed when you distinguish the caramel in the apple dessert must have burnt, because now it smells like apples and burnt caramel.

"Benedict, stop. I'm warning you," Anthony almost growls and you instinctively close your eyes. It sounds a bit to animalistic for your taste and sensibilities (growling is all good and fine in audiobooks, but in the middle of a possible fight between mutant humans in an alternate universe? terrifying experience, 2/5, would not recommend).

"I recommend you find a way to stop me, brother," Benedict rises to the challenge, holding you even closer and you really wish you were somewhere else.

You close you eyes and imagine you're somewhere else, eating stawberries and cream, or caramel apples or even drinking a cocoa with honey- things you could be doing if you were able to search around the garden party and see where the hell are they keeping these delicious desserts and why hasn't a single waiter passed by with them? They go by with drinks and small blocks of something that looks like it's covered in sugar. You open your eyes, frustrated and a bit alarmed when you smell the chocolate also start to smell bitter. All three perfect scents somehow altered in a way that makes you very nervous, sad even. God, maybe your period is finally near? It would explain why you're even considering you're emotional about desserts of all things.

You're brought back to the present situation, not by the change of scents but rather Anthony storming off in a loud huff. You blink, looking at Colin who is front of you (but looking at Ben and seemingly having another silent conversation) then up at Ben who looks much calmer than he should be- considering his brother just stormed off quite pissed. Not only his brother, but his pack leader. That has to have some extra weight, surely? You wanna ask these things, and maybe you would- if you didn't suddenly notice the apples and caramel scent is much fainter now and dear god, where are they? You want at least a taste before they're finished!

"Everything alright, your grace?" Colin is, surprisingly, the one to ask. It's surprising because you're squirming and wiggling in Benedict's arms but he seems perfectly content with it.

"Hm?" you turn to him before nodding absentmindly. "Yeah, yeah, fine. Do you know where the dessert table is?"

"This is the second time you ask that," Ben points out, tilting his head in curiosity.

"This is the first time you've acknowledged my question," you respond sarcastically before taking another look around. "I still want an answer."

"No idea," Ben shrugs. "Col?"

"Uh, yeah- right over..." he hesitates, before turning to your right, "there."

You try to look, but Ben is in your way and you frown up at him. "Mr. Bridgerton, would you release me? I find myself craving something from the refreshments table. I'm thirsty and-"

Again, before you finish your sentence, you find yourself with a glass of lemonade close to your lips. Startled, you take it- only to notice it's not a new glass and, judging by Frannie's indignant "Hey!", you can guess what's happened.

You sigh, turning slightly to look at Fran (who just happened to walk by). She's still holding up her hand, presumably where the drink that's in yours was before.

"Sorry, Fran," you say, passing her her glass back. She gives you a tiny smile before glaring at Ben and discreetly sticking out her tongue at Ben and continuing her path. You look up at Ben with raised brows and he shrugs, not looking the least bit repentant.

"You said you were thirsty," he justifies again, as if it was obvious.

"I happen to want my own drink," you say with false patience. "May I, please, go get one?" you ask, sarcastically as you try to separate from him, huffing in frustration when he doesn't move an inch. "I want to get some desserts too, before they're gone-"

"I'll get them for you," he offers.

"Why would you do that?" your question is rightly baffled. The refreshments table is not extremely far away or anything. If he really wanted to stay with you, he can just walk there with you. Sure, there are lots of people in the way but that's to be expected from a crown-hosted event.

"For... for your comfort," he eventually says. "You can stay here, with my family and avoid unwanted conversations. I doubt you've memorized all the names' of the parliament members while you were away, your grace."

You frown at that. He knows full well it's not the case and his argument is logical- which means, there's no reason to accept his proposal. Except for the fact that he's acting weird and you think you've had enough of this event- you wanna go home now. You'll do that as soon as you're free from his grip.

"Okay," you accept, calmly.

"Perfect," he beams and you feel a bit guilty for planning to escape from him- then you remember he's been pratically glued to your side for 20 minutes and that will end in Lady Whistledown's front page, no doubt. With that reminder, you're considerably less forgiving. "What would you like me to bring you? A lemonade and what else?"

"See if they still have strawberries and cream," you say, without much thought. You reason that if your escape plan fails, at least you'll get your craving- however, he frowns confused. "What?"

"I don't think they're serving strawberries with cream, little duck," he says with an awkward smile. "Anything else you might want?"

"Of course they are!" you say, almost offended. "I could smell them since I got off my carriage- I've been craving them all this time too," he blinks and his head leans to the side, in deep thought. You sigh, exasperated. "Fine, if they're gone you can bring me whatever they had with apple and caramel- but watch for a piece without burnt caramel," he frowns but you don't let him speak as you continue. "If there's none of that, there must be something with chocolate and honey- bring that. If possible, bring all three."

"All three?" Colin asks, a bit surprised. Your turn to him with an offended frown- of course you want all three! They all smelled delicious. You couldn't choose just one- plus, this was the time he decided to make a comment? He had been standing there awkwardly the whole time, while he could've offered to go get your desserts instead of Ben. He seems to sense he has offended for he stumbles to say, "Not that it's too much or anything! I'm no one to reprimand others about having an appetite," he laughs, uncomfortable before he clears his throat. "It's just... the flavors you described don't sound like they could be blended together all that... well."

"Well, it's not like I was planning to eat them all at the same time," you denote a bit irritated, "but I disagree. I think strawberries with chocolate and caramel could go quite well, or apples and strawberries topped with honey- lots of combinations. It's all sweet and lovely, and I'm craving sweet."

"Okay..." Ben nods, slowly detangling himself from you. "I'll see what I can get you, little duck," he nods, almost solemnly before he stares down at Colin (despite Colin being taller than him). "Col, stay with her, no matter what."

Before you can refute, Ben is gone and Colin takes a step closer. Thankfully, he doesn't take his role as bodyguard as serious as Ben and just stand close to you. Really close. You frown up at him when you feel his warmth close to your back and he clears his throat before taking a step back as he murmurs a quiet, "Sorry."

You both stay in silence, waiting for Ben to come back. Unfortunately, you start feeling unwell. The fever you felt deep inside you, comes back with a vengeance. You feel like a blistering heat in your bones, in your insides- and yet you try to stay composed. "Try" being the keyword because clearly, Colin sensed your distress.

"My lady, are you alright?" he asks, quite worried. He hesitates before moving closer, his touch discreet in your back- he pulls back almost immediately, as if you've burnt him.

"Fine," you manage to say through gritted teeth. "Where's the restrooms?" you question, gulping down a whine of pain.

"I'll take you," he says and you shake your head, noticing that his proximity is making it all worse.

"No, no, just..." you take a deep breath, your shaking hands wiping off the sweat off your forehead. You need to be alone (no no no, you need to be closer, turn to him, bite him, kiss him, mark him). Alone. Get some water. Call Balor and ask him to get you the hell out of here. You're probably having an episode of deep dehydration or a heat stroke- either way, you can treat those at home, alone. "Just point me where they are... I'll be fine."

He hesitates but the low whine of pain stuck in your throat seems to wake him from his indecision and he points you where you should go. You just nod your head, knowing that even though you want to thank him, if you open your mouth your whines and moans of pain would be heard by everyone present. So, you walk towards the castle- going directly for the passage Colin pointed out. Every step you take is agony, but you take deep breaths and concentrate on moving forward- you can do this, you're almost there. Just past the labyrinth and into the passage where you can find a closed chamberpot and summon Balor. Simple. Quick. Easy.

You almost sigh in relief, hand already reaching to the blessed stone of the castle corridor, when you're pulled back.

You blink your hazy eyes and find yourself way too close to a disgusting mustache and a receding hairline, both in black hair. You frown and squirm in disgust, a scent of burnt and rancid cigars envelpoing your sense. "Ooh, what do we have here?" even his voice is disgusting, his hands touching your blistering skin firmly and pulling you to him. You snarl, trying to fight, but finding yourself too weak to do so. He has your arms held by the wrists and he pulls you closer by the waist. It's disgusting and terrifying, you squirm and open your mouth, ready to scream, only to find with increasing terror that his thick scent has left your throat dry and you unable to scream. "Shh, shh little omega~" he places the hand previously on your hip on top of your mouth, his tone mocking. "I'll break you in no time at-"

In a second, he's ripped off of you. You don't how or what happened. All you know is that you can suddenly breathe. You cough and dry heave, greedily taking in the clean air- burnt caramel and souring apples have never smelled so good in your entire fucking life. You're leaning against the cold wall you were going to touch earlier, barely listening to the pitiful cries of someone and the animalistic growls of a beast. You don't even care; you're taking your time, breathing in and out, checking your pulse and recounting the events of the day in your head. "-highness...Y/N!" your name being called worriedly finally prompts you to open your eyes. You see a frazzled Anthony in front of you. He's dry heaving, just like you and you blink, confused and a bit worried that something may have happened to him.

"Anthony?" you ask, softly and he nods. "Y/N," he calls again, softer this time. "Are you alright?"

It's a loaded question. Alright? You don't know what that means anymore. Youre not physcially okay and what what just happened was just not alright in any sense.

You gulp and shrug, "I... I guess." You close your eyes before shaking your head. "I... I don't know what happened."

"I'll escort you home," he says, kindly and you shake your head.

"I was feeling sick... I... I need Balor," you reason, nodding to yourself. "I just..." you sigh, pushing yourself off the wall. You feel itchy and hot and you know whatever you had a few moments ago, you might have it again. "I need to get out of here," you whisper.

He nods, solemnly, offering you his blood stained gloved hands and you frown at him. He doesn't seem to see a problem and still waits for you to take his hand.

You shrug, figuring that if it's your problem today, it will still be your problem tomorrow.

So you take his left hand and let him guide you back to the main party. You have to pass that to get to the carriages and get home- you wouldn't if you had just called Balor, but for some reason, you wanted to take Anthony's offer. He's slowly leading you through the groups of people when a gush of wind suddenly blows your hair a little too hard. You find yourself having to violently try to pin it back to your head, the moving and constant touches of it against your neck is driving you insane. The wint relents and you whine, having to reach and scratch the itch off. Thankfully, the wind blew to your left, meaning that your hair didn't whip Anthony, or that he got hit with your beta-perfumed scent that had made his brother displeased earlier. However, he turns just in the right moment- probably to ask you if you're alright- when you scratch at your neck, complete exposing the irritated scent gland. He freezes, all brain processes stopping abruptly; his hind brain taking full control, canines dropping- but he can't. If only Cressida Cowper hadn't chosen that exact moment to accidentally bump into you and throw you into his arms, Anthony might have had a hope in hell of holding back, of reigning in his inner beast and be the gentleman with poise and grace he always prided himself to be.

Unfortunately, fate doesn't work that way and he is an alpha, despite how much society may want him to deny it.

An alpha who has caught his destined omega, in the brink of a heat, in his lap.

Of course he bites your neck and marks you as his mate right then and there. He's only a man.

"Ow!" your voice sounds muffled in his ears. "What the actual fuck, Anthony?!" he doesn't much listen to words as much as he feels them agaisnt his canines still in your flesh and in his tongue, still tasting your skin.

Truly, he wonders the same. What the actual fuck, indeed.

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