You have been in love with Benedict your entire life, what happens when you are forced together during what should of been a peaceful carriage ride?
CW: Carriage crash, could possibly trigger claustrophobia as the fic is about them being trapped together, also slightly descriptions of a leg injury.
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader. Prompt: Cooking Together. Alt prompt: Crush @fluffuary
You looked out the window intensely. For fear that if you looked ahead and saw him you would become and awkward, rambling mess.
But just being in close proximety had you fanning yourself more than normal, likely coming across like you have a fever.
Your mama was meant to be in this carriage with you, but then Violet had encouraged her to ride with her and Lady Danbury instead, likely to gossip and scheme of ways to get their children married. So now you were heading to a country party alone with a man you loved, completely unchaperoned.
You fanned yourself a bit faster.
"I am not going to ravish you, you know." He said with a big grin.
You simply stared at him with your mouth agape.
He leaned forward to still your bouncing knee, all the while he had an amused look on his face.
"You're clearly panicked about the fact we're alone, but your my friend, almost a sister really, you must know i would never hurt or compromise you." He spoke whilst squeezing your knee.
You tried to ignore the sister comment, and the butterflies in your stomach as he squeezed the knee.
"O-of course, it is merely the-"
You were possibly going to try and blame the heat (even though it was unusually freezing for July.) But you never would as the world suddenly tipped upside down.
You let out a groan of pain as Benedict fell ontop of you, pinning you and crushing you against the ground. Somehow or other the carriage had crashed, and not only that but had tipped upside down.
"A-are you alright?" He asked, his face merely inches away from yours as he tried to move off of you.
"I- I think so. But how...? Are you alright?" You frowned with concern, he seemed to be wincing a lot, trying to shift off of you and yet being unable to.
"I'm sorry but... I cannot move my leg its stuck in something... am I hurting you?"
You ignored the question, and the crushing feeling as well as the burning feeling from the proximity. You tilted your head around him and grimaced.
A part of the roof had broken and fallen in as a spike. Piercing through his leg and pinning it to the floor, he tried to move it again and you blanched a little.
"Ben, stop moving. You... you won't be able to move it until help comes, okay?" You spoke softly, not realising that you had given him a nickname.
"Have you been to the new Dulwich Picture Gallery? It has some fantastic works in there."
You figured distraction was your best option for the both of you. He frowned slightly, growing suspicious about what you weren't telling him, but going along with it for now.
"No I have not, I meant to go there this weekend."
"Oh! Well then perhaps I could go with you to show you around. How is your latest work coming along?"
He blushed slightly, moving his head to look to the side momentarily.
"It's going..." He spoke slowly.
"You have never told me what it's of."
"It's nothing, it's stupid." He blushed some more, seeming somewhat flustered.
"I am certain that is not true-"
"Please drop it." His pleading tone made you pause for a moment, before nodding reluctantly.
You moved your head to the other side, trying to think up a new topic that won't make him panic about his leg, and that would distract you from the feeling of being crushed.
"Where the hell is everybody?!" He suddenly exclaimed.
"They should be here. Somewhere i mean- we had carriages behind us-" He turned to look at your slightly laboured breathing.
He attempted to shift his weight whilst hissing as his leg shot out in pain.
"Did you catch the latest production of Much Ado About Nothing?"
You shook your head, he watched your breath rise and fall and tried to take some of the weight off of you.
"Well, once all this is over I could take you to it, as a sort of 'sorry for crushing your lungs' sort of thing." He smiled cheekily, and despite the weight you laughed a little.
"I'll hold you to that... but won't I get another outing as a 'thank you for showing me around the new art gallery'?" You asked, feeling a little bold.
After all, it could be your last chance.
He looked taken aback for a moment, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks, before laughing softly.
"I will take you anywhere of your choosing for that."
"Would you take me to your studio to see your new work?" Your curiosity was getting the better of you again, why wouldn't he tell you what he was working on?
He sighed softly, letting his head drop down for just a moment so it lay on your shoulder, before quickly pulling back with an almost terrified expression.
"It's... personal." He confessed softly.
Your heart sank, of course you knew this day would come eventually... but you had always secretly held out hope that one day he would suddenly confess his love and run away with you to Gretna Green.
A childish fantasy really.
"Ah... I see.. do you love her?"
"It um... it's complicated I- I have been dreaming of her a lot lately but... but I have known her a long time, and i know she does not feel the same." He was looking out of the window, as if trying to see if he could see foots approaching.
But really he was just trying not to stare into your face, though maybe if he had and had seen the tears just about glistening in your eyes, perhaps he would of said something different.
"Well, I think she would be a fool not to consider you."
He shook his head, turning to you with a wry smile.
"No I am serious! You are kind and thoughtful, amazingly talented, you are funny and smart... you are... you are simply the best."
He heard your voice catch a little, some unspoken emotion in your eyes and behind your words. Had he been wrong?
"You... you really think I would make a good husband? For anyone?"
For you? He was quietly asking.
You nodded your head, and before you knew it he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. You stared at him wide eyed.
"What?" You spoke, your voice quiet and weak.
"The painting I'm working on, the dreams I habe had. They were of you. For... for weeks you have plagued me, ever since we danced the waltz at Lady Danbury's ball... the scent of you, jasmine and vanilla, the softness of your skin... you are intoxicating." His voice was low, almost a whisper, and yet utterly passionate.
You felt the heat creeping along your skin again, you nervously threaded a hand through his hair and took in as deep a breath as possible in this position.
"I... I have loved you since the day I saw you. I knew you would only ever see me as Daphne's friend, and so I did everything I could to get over you but... but nobody compares, you occupy my every waking moment, whether consciously or unconciously. Nobody compares... nobody even comes close." You admitted.
You both stared at each other a moment, before his lips came crashing down on yours hungrily, stealing whatever little breath you had remaining.
You kissed him back just as passionately, your hands in his hair and on the nape of his neck, pulling him into the kiss as much as you can.
You were both so distracted you did not hear the footsteps approaching to help, and it was only as the carriage was broken up and the light came in that you looked up with a sheepish smile at your mama and the surrounding strangers.
Benedict, despite the pain of his impaled leg, grinned proudly.
"I suppose your stuck with me now."
You realised he was right, you were compromised and would be forced to marry. Though truthfully it did not feel like being forced, you laughed slightly.
"I suppose we were heading there anyway."
You stroked his hair as he kissed the palm of your hand, and you felt incredibly lucky for being in such a horrid crash.
A/N: This one might be a little much to be fluff, but i tried to dampen down the terror a little bit as I did not want to be triggering by describing injuries and such. Anyway, Benedict has to wear a splint for about a month but there was no lasting limps or anything.
