#jack aubrey x you

[mystery-star]

Unbid – Jack Aubrey (Part 2  / 3 )

Pairing: Jack Aubrey x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions arranged marriage, unwanted advances (Not Jack ofc), strict parents

Words: 3532

Series Navigation:  Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Please do not repost my works on other sites or platforms!

-

The person holding you swam towards the surface and after you broke it, you had a small coughing fit. Above the pier you saw a group of people gathered, among them your maid who held out her hand to help you up.

“I’ll lift you, reach for the top of the pier” so it was Mr. Aubrey who had come to your rescue.

“I can’t get up” you felt tears in your eyes

“Trust me” he said. Well, you didn’t have much of a choice. He still held you and so you couldn’t swim away. And better you used your strength now to get up than tiring yourself out by searching a better spot. So you just nodded “Ready?” when you agreed, he held on to the pole and with the other hand tried to help you up to the top. You couldn’t grasp it but instead a hand caught your wrist. There was another hand on your other arm and yet another on your back. Breathing out in relief that you weren’t alone, you tried your best to help them and from below, the Lieutenant pushed up your leg. Finally, you were lying flat on the wood, taking deep breaths and telling yourself it was over while the bunch of sailors that had helped you along with your maid asked if you were doing alright. Somehow you were glad that the captain was not among them. But you didn’t even know what to say. Someone handed you a towel and you took it, drying your face and then dabbing it at your arms.

“What were you thinking?” you now heard Captain Steward ask

“I didn’t want to fall” you protested. By now also the Lieutenant had climbed on top of the stage with a rope someone had brought. He too was handed a towel and after he had dried his face, he took a coat, you suggested his own, which he had taken off before jumping in the water, and placed it on your shoulders. Not trusting your tongue to form actual words, you just gave a thankful nod.

“Does she have something else to wear? She shouldn’t go home in these wet clothes” Mr. Aubrey asked your maid, who declined. Your teeth started chattering and wrapped the coat tighter around you. “Do we have her something dry?” he now asked his superior who just shook his head.

“I’ve got a spare shirt” someone reported

“Aye, I’d have some slops” you eyed the man critically, he was much broader than you and the trousers would never fit. And even if they did you couldn’t only wear shirt and trousers.

“Maybe we could make her a skirt from a spare sail?”

“Perhaps we should just get her somewhere where she can get rid of the clothes and we can find her something” Lieutenant Aubrey suggested with a glance to the captain who gave a nod.

“Bring her to my cabin” when you arrived at the cabin, someone brought you an oversized shirt. With your maid you decided that the best way was you taking off your clothes, putting on the shirt as a shift and just keeping Mr. Aubrey’s coat over it, buttoning it close. You hoped he wouldn’t mind that you took it home and wouldn’t need it right away. Once you were dressed in your makeshift clothes you stepped out of the cabin again with your maid feeling immensely embarrassed about your appearance. But before you could leave you had to find the rightful owner of the coat to ask if he was fine with you borrowing it. You found him at the ship’s side, talking to the captain. When you approached them, the two men turned around.

“I uh…” you folded your hands “Might I borrow your coat?”

“Certainly, I insist” you smiled and muttered a thank-you, not caring that your mother would scold you for talking so quietly. “I suppose we’ll postpone the discussion to when you return” Mr. Aubrey told his superior.

“Return?” he asked incredulously

“You are not going to accompany her home?” your suitor let out a throaty laugh

“Have you looked at her? She’s wet, got a bruise on her face and is drunk. What’s her father gonna say if I’m with her? No, I still plan to marry that woman” you found it better not to mention that two of the things he had mentioned were his fault. But in a way you understood why he was scared to bring you home. And if you were honest, you were glad he wouldn’t come with you after what had happened today. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to see him again.

“It is alright. I’m not alone, I have my maid and we can call a carriage”

“See?” the captain sounded relieved. Ignoring him, the Lieutenant turned to you

“I’d feel more reassured to know you will be safe on your way home. Especially around the docks.” he threw a glance at his superior “Why, I could accompany her” neither your maid nor the captain seemed very happy but you gave a nod. You didn’t care if this was proper or not, you just were happy that he offered to go with you to make sure you were fine. But then the captain seemed to think about it.

“Come to think of it, her father surely would appreciate her not going home alone. Very well, Lieutenant. You may go with her” you felt yourself smile, even more so when the Lieutenant gave a nod and offered you his arm.

“Goodbye, captain” you called in the direction of your suitor who luckily didn’t make any moves to kiss your knuckles again. The three of you left the ship in silence but on the way to the carriage the silence was embarrassing so you started talking with Mr. Aubrey, although your maid shot you glances you couldn’t quite interpret but surely weren’t happy ones. But you didn’t mind and just kept talking with the other man until the carriage pulled up in front of your house. “Well” you said after the member of the Navy had helped you out of the carriage “Thank you”

“It gave me great pleasure” he took your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“I will see to it that both the coat and the shirt are cleaned and returned to you”

“Ah, I can come and pick them up” he said “Should use the opportunity to walk around as long as we’re ashore” he gave you a wink and you felt your body temperature rising.

“Alright. Then I’ll still see to it they’re washed and will be ready for you”

-

You had hoped to evade your parents as you came home so they wouldn’t notice your condition but it seemed that your father had someone waiting for you to bring him to his office. He wasn’t happy with your tale at all and after two slaps in the face he sent you to your room. There, instead of getting changed you spent about two hours crying before you fell asleep.

The next day you didn’t feel like getting up at all, so you curled up in your bed with a good book and claimed you felt a bit unwell. Which wasn’t even a lie, just that it was more something mental instead of physical. In the evening, a maid came to your room just after you noticed there was visitor.

“Miss, Captain Steward presents compliments, says he apologises for his behaviour and hopes you didn’t catch a cold from your fall yesterday” you couldn’t help the little sound of annoyance that left your throat before you gave a nod.

“Thank you. Please tell him I suffer of no consequences but am still not capable of seeing him right now”

“Oh he’s not here, Miss. It’s someone from his crew. His name is Mr. Aubrey, I believe”

“Oh” you put the book aside and pulled the blanket back getting up “Can you get me my dressing gown?”

“Miss? What are you doing?” you paused to think. Indeed, what were you doing? Or better said why were you doing this?

“I… Mr. Aubrey let me borrow some clothes. I wish to see for myself that he has received them back” you said but knew it wasn’t the full truth. Yes, you wanted to know he had his coat back but you also just wanted to see him. You pinched your arm. Good Lord, please don’t let that be true. Please don’t let me like that man. A part of you wanted to protest when the maid came to help you put on the dressing gown, knowing you shouldn’t do this but you couldn’t help it. Sluggishly you walked down the stairs and your maid accompanied you to the parlour where the man was waiting. When he saw you, he got up with a huge smile on his face, walking over to you and kissing your knuckles.

“I didn’t expect you to come and see me” not knowing what to say you just smiled. It disappeared when you thought of your father.

“I suppose it would be appropriate to keep our guest some company while he’s waiting. After all it is my fault you’re here again”

“At least I don’t need to clean my coat myself” he returned to his seat and you sat down on the couch next to his armchair.

“A cup of tea, Miss?” the butler asked and you nodded.

“What kind of behaviour did the captain want to apologise for?” you gulped knowing he probably meant the kiss but you didn’t tell him. You had also left that out when talking to your father. As well as the fact that you had had some grog.

“The alcohol, I suppose. Or maybe that he didn’t want to bring me home?”

“So I can tell him you’re not offended by what he’s done?” you opened your mouth, unsure what to say. Yes, he had offended you and the more you thought of it, the angrier you got. “I see. I’ll let him know he better thinks of something to make up for it” not wanting to discuss, you just gave a nod and took a sip from the tea. Why was it taking so long until someone brought him his coat so he left? “Are you alright?”

“Yes” you replied and took another sip, trying not to let him know you had burned your tongue.

“You’re shivering”

“Ah” you hadn’t even noticed before you watched your trembling hand. He even leant over to you and held the back of his hand against your forehead.

“You feel hot. You’d better go back to bed. Not that you are getting sick” you wanted to protest but he turned to the butler “I’m all set. Why don’t you bring her back to her room and make sure she lies down again?” the butler didn’t seem too happy but obliged.

-

In the following two days you had to realize that you actually were sick. You didn’t know what it was but you were feeling week, dizzy, had a fever and were vomiting quite often. Your parents had called a doctor but he suggested it just was an infection and that you best tried to sleep it out. At least he was sure it was nothing serious. But it seemed that your suitors took it rather serious because most of them (at least those that tried to contact you) were told about your condition and thereupon started sending you bouquets of flowers. For some reason you didn’t want them in your room and told the maids that brought them to find them another spot in the house.

One day, however, it was different. Instead of a bouquet there was just a single tulip. And instead of the small card or short letter, there was a thick envelope. Curiously you opened the envelope. Soon you realized that it wasn’t a long letter but a short one too (yet still longer than the others) and the rest was sheets for a piece of music. With a frown you read the letter. At first it really confused you but when you threw a glance at the name of the writer it started to make sense. Jack Aubrey. He told you that he felt guilty for leaving you alone with the Captain and letting him upset you which was the reason you ran away and finally fell into the water. Because, as he believed, this was the reason you were sick now. That was why he had given you the score to a piece he really liked and played to cheer himself up (because he loved playing the violin too!). The flower was to put on display in your room since you could not go to your favourite spot in the garden, the one he had met you on your birthday and about which you had told him. With a smile you put the letter aside to study the musical score.

“Miss?” the maid who had brought you the gifts asked “Would you like me to find a place for the tulip?”

“Oh…” you looked down at the red flower on your lap “No, actually I’d like a vase. In my room” she nodded and left while you chuckled. While you really appreciated the gesture with the flower and found it sweet, Mr. Aubrey had mixed up the flowers. It were poppies that grew near your favourite bench, not tulips. But alas, you probably couldn’t tell larboard from starboard either. Before the maid returned, you put the letter aside, grabbed the music sheets and left the bed to play the piece at once. But as you were tuning up your violin, your father entered.

“What are you doing, (Y/N)? You are supposed to be in bed and rest!”

“I-I was feeling better and thought I could practise a bit” it wasn’t that much of a lie

“You can practise when you’re fully healed again. Back to bed, now” as he spoke he was coming closer.

“Father please, just let me…”

“Now” you opened your mouth but you couldn’t think of something you could say. A smile was on your face when you remembered that your father would leave the house in a couple of hours, you could play then. So you wanted to put the violin back in the case when your father stopped you “Give me your instrument”

“What? Why?” you choked out

“Do as I say, (Y/N). I will not have you worsening your condition over something like this” he held out his hand and with a gulp you handed him the violin, watching in horror how he gripped it by the neck

“You cannot hold it like that! It might break” you shrieked

“Watch your mouth and go back to bed” scoffing, you more or less tossed the bow back in the case, put the score there as well, closed the case and went back to bed, turning away from your father and pulling the blanket over your head.

-

The following day, in the afternoon all your symptoms were gone. All that remained was a slight tiredness and you not being able to be on your feet for a longer time. Apparently, your father found it was too early to return you your instrument but just the right time to invite a suitor for dinner. Captain Steward. During the meal you avoided speaking to him and after it was over, he wanted to have a cup of tea with you in the parlour, chaperoned by your mother. Half-heartedly, you listened to his tales of victories he achieved in the service until you had finished to cups and announced that you were not feeling too well and would like to return to bed to completely cure your sickness. The man got up, pecked your knuckles and wished you a goodnight before you left and almost ran upstairs.

You didn’t know if you were surprised when your father woke you the following morning, saying you had a guest. A part of you considered asking if you’d get your violin back if you went to see him but instead let a maid help you getting dressed without a word. Your father was waiting for you outside of your room.

“I think you should know one thing”

“Yes?”

“Yesterday, after you so abruptly left, Captain Steward came to me to ask for your hand in marriage. But he made it clear that he is not all too happy with your behaviour lately”

“He wants to marry me?” you breathed, stopping on the stairs.

“Yes he does, although it’s rather unbelievable after how disrespectfully you treated him yesterday” you let out an annoyed breath. Not like he had treated you any better when you had visited him on the ship.

“So I figure you want me to go, listen what he says and say yes?”

“No”

“What?” you now were really confused. Why else was the captain here if not to propose to you?

“He’s not here to ask you. I already agreed yesterday”

“You-you agreed? But what about the others?”

“One has found someone else and I cannot rely on another one to ask for my blessing and you don’t seem to like Lord Sanders, so he was the only option left”

“But if… I mean if that third man had not wanted me… there surely would have been more men? More suitors. It’s… not like they are the only men” he looked at you

“Do you have a problem with Captain Steward?”

“No” you muttered. Giving a satisfied nod, your father opened the door to the parlour where your mother and your suitor were waiting. When he saw you, Captain Steward got up, to press a kiss to the back of your hand.

“(Y/N). What a pleasure to see you. I hope you slept well” your father threw a glance at you

“It is mine too, Captain Steward and I had a good night, thank you”

“Oh please, call me Percy”

“Alright, Percy”

“I’m sure you are wondering what I’m doing here”

“Yes well, I somehow have. Why are you here?”

“See, after you went to bed I had a word with your father. I asked for his blessing and he agreed”

“I heard” you just said and again your father gave you a hard glare “That is nice to hear” you added for that reason.

“Well, so today I came again to tell you personally and to give you this” he pulled something from his coat jacket and presented you a ring. “It belonged to my mother”

“It is very beautiful. Thank you, Percy” he squeezed your hand

“May I?” he didn’t wait for an answer and put the ring on your finger, making you mumble another thank you. “What would you think of a walk through your gardens?”

“I had no breakfast yet” you protested and when both your parents looked at you, you put on a smile “But then I would love to join you” to your dismay, your new fiancé decided to join you for breakfast and then spend the whole day with you. This time, the talks didn’t bore you as the often did but since he was telling you what he imagined your future together to be you started to feel sick.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” he suddenly said and as if caught you glanced at him.

“Well, I certainly need time to get to know people before I start talking much” you said

“You’ve been talking more when we first met” before he had kissed you on his ship, you thought.

“That was to get to know you in a first place”

“Well, then get to know me more. Ask, I got all day”

“I don’t mean to be rude but I am surprised you have the whole day. Are you not needed on the ship?”

“Ah, as long as we’re in port there’s not that much to do for me except supervising repairs. Besides, she’s in the best hands”

-

Percy came to see you on the two following days as well and slowly, you were starting to have enough of him and especially his comments that you should get used to seeing him each day. You bit back a comment that as a captain he’d often be out at sea. The only positive thing about the week was that once you had started to show interest in your fiancé - at least as much as was needed to please your father - you found your violin lying on your bed one day. You felt bad for having forgotten about it but now that you saw it, you just wanted to play the piece you had gotten from Mr. Aubrey. But apparently your violin didn’t like being outside of its case, so there was more tuning needed than usual and that was when the E-string broke. In disbelief you stared at the instrument, feeling a flash of anger that turned into exasperation and finally you sat down on the bed with a huff, unsure what even to feel.

-

Taglist: @woman-with-no-name​

[isabelleffe]

List of Pro-Palestinian Celebrities That I Have Been Working On

pro🍉 (❌ = problematic for unrelated reason, 🕊️= passed away)

reneé rapp

pedro pascal

bella ramsey

bella hadid

gigi hadid

dua lipa

melanie martinez❌(sa - “she didn’t say no” was response)

the weekend❌(misogyny - lesbian fetish)

towa bird

phoebe bridgers

lucy dacus

julien baker

beabadoobee

kehlani

hozier

melissa barreram

macklemore

cate blanchett

hari nef

julia fox❌(connections with kanye and drake)

mitski

SZA

nina lu

zendaya

victoria monét

rachel zegler

jenna ortega

clairo

chloe forero

miss rachel (toddler learning)

ariana grande❌(said her dream dinner date is jeffery dahmer)

ricky montgomery

angelina jolie

maisie peters

chani nicholas

nemahsis

chappell roan

frank ocean

ramy youssef

cardi b

halsey

eddy mack

saul williams

arooj aftab

michelle wolf

carice van houten

matt mcgorry

michael stipe

Jasmin Savoy Brown

Dame Vivienne Westwood

Neemz

amira jazeera

MUNA

Hedy Epstein

Hunter Schafer

Chance the Rapper

ishowspeed ❌ (treated his ex-girlfriend terribly)

Noname (rapper, poet, and producer)

shannon berry

nicola coughlan

bambie thug

zara larsson

AURORA

jonathan glazer

joaquin phoenix❌

lizzy mcalpine

coldplay (will champion, phil harvey, guy berryman, chris martin)

tyler the creator

björk

pink floyd (at least roger waters)

lauryn hill

chuck d

david bowie (loving the alien)🕊️

Malcom X🕊️

the strokes (Julian Casablancas, Albert Hammond Jr., Fabrizio Moretti, Nick Valensi, and Nikolai Fraiture)

earl sweatshirt

michael jackson (palestine, don't cry)🕊️

kid cudi

rage against the machine (zack de la rocha, tom morello, tim commerford, brad wilk)

lorde

FKA twigs

joji

ethel cain

Michael Jordan Bonema

lil peep🕊️

sean beam

liam cunningham

dianne guerrero

sean bean

tobias menzies

charles dance

carice van houten

emma d’arcy

madison pettis

lena heady

mxmtoon

joe alwyn

momona tamada

patrick spicer

mark ruffalo

halle bailey

chloe bailey

nicola coughlan

tom welling

kristen kreuk

rob delaney

kali uchis

louise xin (fashion designer)

isabela merced

joseph quinn

grace van dien

helana christensen

josh hutcherson

charli xcx

megan thee stallion (called for ceasefire at her concert 8/1/24, not sure if she talked about it before that because i only went to one concert)

hozier

not pro🍉 (“neutrality” = not pro 🍉, red text = signed letter for "israel")

taylor swift (no statement)

kanye west

oprah

dwayne johnson

lana del rey

selena gomez

rihanna (no statement)

adam sandler

lady gaga (performed in "israel")

beyoncé (no statement)

justin timberlake (performed in "israel")

noah schnapp

bon jovi (performed in "israel")

robbie williams (performed in "israel")

Brett Gelman

entirety of paramore (no statement)

chris pratt

justin bieber

hailey bieber

haley baylee (no statement)

natalie portman

madonna (performed in "israel")

kardashian family

Jenner family

jennifer lawrence

amy schumer

neil druckmann (admitted to "The Last of Us Part 2" being based on Israel's genocide against Gaza, except from a zionist's point of view)

bruno mars (performed in isnotreal)

mayim bialik

gal gadot

Jerry Seinfeld

Debra Messing

Bryan Lourd

Richard Lovett

Ryan Murphy

Zachery Levi

Sharon Osbourne

Tracey-Ann Oberman

George Lopez

Phil Rosenthal

Mekhi Phifer

Diane Warren

Haim Saban

Irving Azoff

Ynon Kreiz

Jody Gerson

Mark Hamill

Rick Yorn

Howie Mandel

Sherry Lansing

Rick Yorn

Tom Rothman

Julian Edelman

Antoine Fuqua

Jack Black

Aubrey Plaza

Tahj Mowry

Josh Peck

Ziggy Marley

Howie Mandel

Chris Pine

Billy Porter

Ben Savage

Jeremy Seinfeld

Bella Thorne

uncertain

billie eilish (wore ceasefire pin but doesn’t boycott - made videos for mtv israel)

laufey (connections to mitski- no statement)

hank green (historically hasn’t been pro🍉 but has donated recently)

olivia rodrigo (connections to Chappell roan - no statement)

dylan mulvaney (posted in support of palestine but has a few pro-israel friends & has partnered with pro-israel brands)

If you spot any typos, mistakes regarding celebrities listed, or have information about celebrities not listed, please either DM me or leave a comment on this post!!

As always, this blog stands with Palestine, Congo, and Sudan. PLEASE make sure to email your state representatives (if you live in the United States). If you do not know your representative (or how to contact them), you can use this website (which is the official U.S. House of Representatives website). My reposts on Tumblr are all about Isnotreal's genocide on Palestine (at least as of 6/16/2024). Make sure to amplify Palestinian voices and journalists as well (a list will be included below of some Palestinian journalists and groups/people supporting Palestine on Instagram).

@/wizard_bisan1

@/hindkhoudary

@/m.z.gaza

@/anat.international

@/palestine.academy

@/eye.on.palestine

@/ampalestine

@/byplestia

@/wael_eldahdouh

@/jenan.matari

@/thepcrt

@/blackforpalestine

@/jewishvoiceforpeace

@/palestinianyouthmovement

@/eid_yara

[shelbgrey]

James Aubrey- NSFW Alphabet

Paring: James Aubrey x reader

Summary: pretty self explanatory

MasterList

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

This man is amazing when it comes to aftercare. He knows exactly what you need. After your both cleaned up and he makes sure your relaxed, he'd probably head to the kitchen and get some snacks for the both of you.

B = Body part (your favorite body part of his and his favorite of yours)

His Favorite body part of yours is your hips and thighs. He loves all your curves and can't help touching them all the time.

Your Favorite part of him is his hands, they're so skilled and rough but also soft at the sametime. The best feeling is having his strong hands grip any part of your body.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically…I’m a disgusting person)

He'll do whatever your comfortable with, but if you ask him he prefers to cum inside you.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He'd love to just have you bent over his desk while he pounds into you and not care if anyone hears you guys.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's very experienced and knows how to pleasure a woman, he's modest and cocky at the sametime about it.

If your not that experienced or if it's your first time James will be very attentive and show you so much love, and he'll continue to do that.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Missionary, he loves keeping eye contact and its just more comfortable for the both of you.

And if he's on top it's easier to tie you to the bed if the mood is right.

And he certainly doesn't mind if your in his lab getting yourself off while he's setting in his office chair.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

He'll crack a few jokes if it makes you comfortable.

But really he's more serious during this time, focusing on your pleasure or he just be serious and rough if the sex is driven by jelousey.

H = Hair(How well groomed are they)

Umm... I think he'll go to you and ask what you think. Whatever you suggest he'll do.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He can either be the most loving person during sex or the roughest, there's no in between. Of course your thoughts and feelings comes first, but he loves being in control in the bed room.

If he's rougher than usual he'll always makes up for it by running a hot bath and leaving soft kiss on your body so you know how much he loves you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He usually doesn't need to, you keep him completely satisfied. You guys are comfortable enough with each other that he'll come to you if he needs to let off some steam.

But he doesn't mind taking care of himself if he's in the mood and your not.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Bondeg, he'll only use his ties, belts, and sometimes his handcuffs if your in the right mood.

Praise, he's very vocal during sex and he's mostly praising you in a deep, rough voice.

Biting, he's loves marking you up. There has been many times you had to cover your neck with makeup, but most of the bite marks are on your thighs.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom

The couch

The shower

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

You like pushing him to his breaking point, you know what turns him on and you'll keep teasing him till eventually you become a moaning mess under him.

He doesn't know why but he gets turned on if you call him 'agent Aubrey'. A title that you once used in a sarcastic why actually made him have dirty thoughts.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He won't do anything that could harm you.

He also doesn't like car sex because he 'doesn't have his full skill set' as he puts it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s actually very giving in the bedroom. He’d love giving head. He’s pretty skilled at giving head, no matter how horny you are he could make you cum with his mouth in just a few minutes. He loves feeling you pull on his hair as he pushes your limits.

P = Pace(Are they fast and rough or they slow and sensual?)

He usually likes it rough, part of him is afraid he'd take it to far but really you like getting manhandled by him.

If a day of fighting crime got to the both of you the sex will definitely be rough and quick.

But he also lives for though moments where it's just sensual and gentle. He secretly loves just holding you and kissing you slowly.

Q = Quickie (Their opinion on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He certainly don't mind them but he doesn't necessarily like it. He thinks you deserve better than a quickly in bed before work or in his office during a break.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He will not taking any risks that could potentially harm you. Hurting your mentally or physically is his worst fear.

It's also rare for you guys to have sex in either of your work offices, he doesn't want to risk your jobs and he knows you'd be embarrassed if someone walks in on you.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

My man can last forever if he's in the right mood, but usually he can go for about three rounds before he can't go no more.

But if your over stimulated or getting sore he'll stop and take care of you.

T = Toys( do they use them? Do you own any?)

You don't use them, the only thing you guys will bring into bed is what ever he's gonna tie you up with.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Your the biggest tease and will do anything to get your man riled up.

He'll tease you to, whisper dirty things that make you blush or touch you in places than make you putty in his hands.

You both see how long you can tease each other before your dragging each other to the bed room.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He loves hearing you moan. If you try to hold back or even muffle them when it's unnecessary, he'd put an end to it. “please don't hold back Love, let me hear you”

He's pretty vocal himself, sometimes it'll be low grunts and moans or he'll be cussing and praising you. “your so Beautiful... Fuck”

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

One time you made a bet with him that you can last longer than him without sex. This became a week long bet of nothing but teasing and touching, trying to make the other one crack. James cracked first he couldn't handle it after a week.

“please just jump my bones already” he said out of frustration from your teasing.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

It Doesn't matter what his size is, he knows how to please you and he can definitely fuck your brains out.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is hug, like if you had to have a quickly in his office during the day then you'll go home and he'll pound the F out of you like you guys didn't just get off in his office.

Z = ZZZ (…how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He won't fall asleep immediately after, he gets hungry. So after he makes sure your relaxed and comfortable he'll go and get you guys some snacks to eat before bed.

“I'm hungry” he said laying next to you with a smirk on his face, you rolled your eyes playfully. “how romantic”

-if you understand this reference, your awesome.

[nattinatalia]

Urban Wyatt x Reader Instagram AU

Liked by urbanwyatt, neelamthadhani, cozane, selenosunni, iluvsarahii, and 7,245,876 others

yourusername The main attraction 📌

View all 1,800 comments

neelamthadhani My favorite Harlow child 🤩

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yourusername 😭😭😭

•

Liked by urbanwyatt, jackharlow, claybornharlow, loganpaul, and 5,986,345 others

yourusername Happy 25th birthday to my amazing boyfriend, my best friend 🥳 I can’t wait till we make babies, but until then, we can continue practicing while I swallow them 😜☺️ I love you 😘❤️

View all 1,800 comments

urbanwyatt I love you

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yourusername 😊🤞🏼

claybornharlow WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK????

claybornharlow DELETE THIS CAPTION NOW

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yourusername 😁 I can just block you and Clay if that makes you feel better????

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yourusername Didn’t you just leave a comment saying to delete the caption????

neelamthadhani Jack & Clay stop getting involve in grown folks stuff.

jackharlow Grown? She’s the baby 😒

claybornharlow I know you’re not telling us to stop acting like children when you literally act like a toddler when fans get too close to Jack.

yourusername AY YOOOOO!!!!!!

druski I know Jack and Clay having a seizure with the caption 😭😭😭

urbanwyatt They called me trying to make me delete her post.

yourusername Bunch of idiots

•

urbanwyatt added to their story

•

Liked by yourusername, neelamthadhani, druski, cozane, selenosunni, djdrama, and 7,356,876 others

urbanwyatt I wanna see some ass.

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yourusername Baby, can you do it like that, from the front to the back 😈

mamamaggie Not the lyrics to your brothers song Y/N, now you’re being evil. I like it 🤭

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yourusername 🍰 I’ll always show you some ass, come here and let me sit on you real quick.

urbanwyatt 🏃🏼 🧎🏼‍♂️

druski Did you have cake for your birthday?

urbanwyatt The entire thing 😋 🤤 I dived into that!!!!

druski I’m talking about actual cake you nasty.

urbanwyatt Ohhh,,,, just a slice.

yourusername 🙈 lmaoooo

•

Liked by yourusername, cozane, selenosunni, neelamthadhani, and 5,886,456 others

urbanwyatt Birthday behavior!!!!!

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yourusername BAAABEEEE!!!!!!!

urbanwyatt What???

cozane Not the head pic

selenosunni Prepare to d** Urb 😭😭

druski AYEYOOOOO

urbanwyatt Why are all of you acting like she’s actually giving me head? She’s just laying on ny lap.

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yourusername 😭😭😭😭

claybornharlow I’m sick and tired of you both.

jackharlow MOM mamamaggie you’re gonna allow this?

mamamaggie Outta pocket with this post Urban!!!!

yourusername HE DID IT NOT ME!!!!

urbanwyatt Okay little miss “idgaf what they have to say, post it.”

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champagnepapi Baby Wyatt’s will be running around in no time at this rate!!!!

jackharlow NOOO ABSOLUTELY NOT

claybornharlow Aubrey, don’t put that out into the universe!!!!!

yourusername Something we can agree on!!!! We don’t want kids… not right now at least!!!!!

urbanwyatt One day though 🤞🏼🤭

mamamaggie I can’t wait to have grand babies 🥺

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clayborbharlow But she don’t be saying this to us.

yourusername Because I’m the favorite one.

jackharlow You’re the favorite because you’re adopted.

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yourusername AND WHAT ABOUT IT???? IM STILL THE FAVORITE OVER YOU TWO!!!!

mamamaggie I have no favorites. I love the three of you equally!!!!!!!

yourusername LIES!!!!! But I’ll allow it since I know Jackman and Clayborn will probably call you crying.

jackharlow No I wouldn’t!!!!! 😞

claybornharlow You should’ve left her in the dumpster where you found her mom.

mamamaggie CLAYBORN!!!!!!!

yourusername Jealousy is a nasty disease, you should get that checked out.

user Im starting to think Jack and Clay really don’t like Y/N

urbanwyatt They love her actually, this has always been their thing.

mamamaggie Don’t let their little spats under the comments fool you. My kids love each other very much, My boys were happy when y/n came into our lives. The three of them are inseparable and will forever have each others back. They just love to annoy one another. But they really do care for each other.

yourusername Mom, don’t blow our cover now !!!!!!!

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claybornharlow Idk what shes talking about, I can’t stand her annoying ass.

yourusername You know what? I don’t have time for this. I have better things to do, like sit on my boyfriends face. K byeeeee ✌🏼

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mamamaggie Ahhh, never ending cycle with my children!!!!

•

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[theshynerdsworld]

THE MUSE part 5

Benedict Bridgerton x female oc

——

Mary walked into the dining room and sat down “where’s max?” She asked “in bed. He was fed early.” Great aunt Elizabeth snapped, with her nose stuck in the air “he is too young for the dining room.”, “he’s six. Me and Johnathon was five we sat at the dining table.” Elizabeth smacked the table and scolded her “do not speak back, child.” Mary looked down and sighed softly, then looked at her brother, who looked at the ceiling. She sensed something was going on “what’s going on?” No one said anything but just simply ate, Mary looked at Johnathon, who looked at her but looked away quickly “what is happening!”, “you are to go to Shropshire, next week with your aunt.” Her grandfather said, Mary just started to laugh “no, im not.” Then Johnathon looked at her “Mary.. I’m sorry..”

“I can not leave!”, “you have not made any attempt to be interested in any suitors.” Grandmother told her “I had one today.. Benedict Bridgerton, he was interesting, we danced at an event, we like the same things. We clicked! I am interested in him..” aunt Elizabeth shook her head “is this Benedict, a lord?” Mary shook her head “no.. he is an artist..” Elizabeth shook her head “you cannot marry him. You need a man who can provide for you!”, “his brother is a lord.” Johnathon said, in defence of his sister “then marry the brother.”, “I’m not interested in the brother.” Mary snapped “I am interested in Benedict. If he shall, propose I shall say yes.” Elizabeth rubbed her forehead “you will do no such thing…” she snapped “you will be coming to Shropshire.”

Then she stopped and looked at them “no. I have a life here! I have b… I have friends.”, “it’s only for a month.” Elizabeth said “no. I have suitors. I have things to do here..” she crossed her arms and pouted “I’m not going to Shropshire.”, “you either marry a man or you go to Shropshire.. now eat.” Elizabeth snapped, Mary stood up and excused herself “I’m not hungry.” She stormed out, to her room and laid on her bed, grabbing her pillow and screamed into it and cried so hard, laying on her side, staring at the window and walked to it, then tried to open it “locked? You’re never locked!” She whispered, then growled, looking for the key, which she found. Unlocked the door, she slowly climbed out, slowly climbing down the trellis. Mary cursed as she jumped down and ripped her dress, running across the lawn and out of the gate.

Mary slowly walked to the Bridgerton house, she stopped outside it and blinked then remember ‘there’s a swing in the back where me and Eloise, my sister sometimes sit and talk… it helps’ Mary sighed and walked around to the back, seeing the swing and looked around “guess I’ll sit until he comes out.. what if he doesn’t come out..” Mary breathed in and looked at a stone on the floor, she picked it up and saw him sat, talking to someone. She threw the pebble and it made a tapping noise, he looked out of the window and Mary waved then motioned him down and mouthed. “Come on.”

——— (sorry if this is confusing, this is sort of Benedict’s pov)

“How goes the wooing of miss Edwina?” Benedict asked Anthony as he took his shoot “well, I’m gonna invite her and her family to Aubrey hall.” He said as he drank his drink as he waited for colin to do his go. Benedict sat drinking his whiskey as his brothers played pool “so this women, you are trying to court. How did you meet?” Colin said as Anthony took forever with his turn “I danced with her, I’ve been pursuing her. It’s going well.” He paused then said “I think.” They nodded “what’s her name?”, “Mary. That’s all I’m saying. Also Anthony what do you know about lord jack rippleton?” He took his shot and stretched “hmm, drunk. Last wife disappeared. Barely has any money. Whores his way through life. Why?”, “she has been pursued by him and wants to marry her.” Colin smirked at him and took his shot “jealous of him, brother?”, “no. I know she will chose me.” Benedict said cockily and looked out of the window, from his seat, due to him hearing a noise. He noticed someone, it was Mary. She waved and motioned him down, Benedict nodded, he announced “I’m gonna for a walk.”

Benedict walked out and saw her “some may say this is stalking.” Mary looked at him, her eyes where glassy “there is talk of sending me back with aunt Elizabeth.” He walked to the swing and sat down “what?” She blinked and a tear ran down her face, as he lights a cigarette and then wiped the tear away “Shropshire..” he looked down “I must a husband..” she whispered, swinging alittle then looked at him “.. before they marry me off to some lord or something…” Benedict sighed and said “my offer is still there.” He took a puff and offered her the cigarette, she shook her head “why do you want to marry me Benedict.” He shrugged “you’re important to me. You’re special, interesting. Easy on the eye.” She smacked his arm light “stop smacking me.” He whined.

“I’ll meet you at the studio tomorrow.” She nodded “I’ll wear the mask..” They didn’t realise the brothers were watching from the window “who is she?” Colin asked and Anthony shrugged as they saw him kiss her forehead then spoke to her. Then they both raised their eyebrows as the couple both kissed. “Who ever she is brother. Won’t be the last time we see her.”

The next day, Benedict looked around, in drawers and cupboards when violet walked into the sitting room and saw “are you well Benedict?” She asked concerned, he didn’t answer her and just walked out “is he ok?” She asked the eldest “I’m not sure..” Benedict walked back in “there you are. Just looking for you, mother. Do you have grandmamas ring?” Violet just blinked confused “grandmamas engagement ring?” Benedict nodded “yes.. i need it.” Violet held his hand and sat him down, when the rest of the family walked in “who are you determined to marry?”, “marry?!” Hyacinth asked “miss Mary Francis. I danced with her at lady Danbury’s dance and I went to see her.”, “you barely know her.” Anthony said and Benedict looked away, and stood up.

Walking to his sketch book and sat down “we’ve known each other nearly a month.” Anthony cursed under his breath “are you trying to bring scandal?” Paused then said “wait.. is that who you spoke to last night?”, “yes.” Benedict said “she is my muse. We’ve been talking and if she doesn’t find a husband, she will be shipped off to Shropshire with her great aunt Elizabeth.” Violet stuttered as he opened the sketch book “only her brother knows. He’s been.. covering for us.” Violet took the book and looked at the sketches of her “this one is beautiful” it was the first sketch, he had done her in private “fun fact, she was actually bored been sat like that.”

“You love her?” Violet asked and Benedict nodded “yes.”, “invite her to Aubrey hall. I want to meet her.”

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Let Me Be Your Anchor

Chapter 4: Flight

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett An Offer From a Gentleman reimagined Chapter rating/warning: T - brief depiction of sexual assault Word count: 8.5k

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Author's Notes: Now we're getting into the swing of it! Fair bit of AOFAG snippets in this one because there were exchanges I really liked. Heads up if you have read my other fic Fever. Dream. that a portion of this chapter is recycled. I was actually pulling from this fic to write that one before I knew this one would be shared. 💙

[Revisiting Benedict and Sophie two years later during the party at Cavender House as written in Part Two/Chapter 6 of AOFAG. 

It’s the spring of 1817 and the ton are in London. Depressed and listless, Benedict went to the party in the countryside for a change of scenery only to be disappointed by obnoxious drunks. He is leaving and feeling ill. Cavender House is located in Kent and Benedict plans to spend the night at Aubrey Hall. He does not own a bachelor cottage.

Sophie sold the Cowper’s jewels only to find they were made of glass (courtesy of one Jack Featherington). She scraped by with scullery work and selling her hair. Over two years she worked her way back into housemaid roles and has ended up in the employ of the Cavenders. The aging parents are kind but Phillip Cavender has been regularly harassing her.]

Two Years Later

With his parents away, Phillip Cavender had invited the most vile assortment of noblemen to fill his family home with drink and smoke, shouts and chaos. Sophie knew she should have left the grounds immediately, but Mrs. Cavender had treated her well, and she didn’t think it was polite to leave without giving notice to the lady of the house. With no locks on the doors of the servants’ quarters, she had angled a chair in front of hers and sat upon her bed, praying that Phillip would find distraction with one of the many hired ladies in attendance. 

Her prayers were not answered. Phillip had come banging into her room, easily shoving the chair aside. He began pawing at her, pinning her to the mattress. 

“Look what I have here,” he cackled. “Little Miss Sophie, my favorite housemaid.”

Sophie’s mouth went dry, and she wasn’t sure whether her heart started to beat double time or stopped altogether. “Let me go, Mr. Cavender,” she said in her sternest voice while she struggled. She knew that he liked her helpless and pleading, and she refused to cater to his wishes.

“I don’t think so,” he said, his lips stretching into a slippery smile. “I want you to join the party.” Restraining her with one arm, his free hand snaked up her torso, groping and beginning to reach down the neckline of her dress. She could smell the whiskey on him. Whiskey and the reek of dark intent. His voice was husky as he slurred, “You know you’re born to serve.”

When his rough fingers dragged across the skin of her chest, some primal corner of her mind snapped to attention and took control of her body, making everything both crystal clear and numbingly distant at the same time. She knew definitively that she was going to get out of this situation. No matter what it took. No matter what behavior she had to exhibit and to whom. Her knee moved before she commanded it to, driving swiftly up between Cavender’s legs.

She saw his eyes widen with pain for a split second before he doubled over, wheezing. When he tried to lunge for her again, her arm flew on its own, planting her fist into the side of his jaw. Cavender hit the floor with a thud, groaning as he began to roll across the boards. After the initial shock of her own actions, Sophie flew into a panic, stepping over the crumpled man to throw her few belongings into a bag. This was her chance. Without another look back, she hitched her skirts in one hand, clutched her bag in the other, and ran out into the night.

Her flight to the road was a blur. Her mind was blank to everything except one imperative: run. It felt as if she reached it instantaneously, but she knew it was a fair distance from the house. When her eyes began to refocus and the roar began to fade from her ears, she slowed to a walk, gasping. The night air was cool and soothing. The lights and noise of Cavender House were barely perceptible through the trees. The waxing moon illuminated the road in front of her and she set off for the village.

As she regained her composure, a sense of dread crept over her. She had attacked a gentleman. For her, a penniless maid, it was an offense worthy of a life in prison, if not transportation to the other side of the world. She certainly could not work in another household of the ton, lest word spread to find her. She hoped maybe he had drunk enough that he would not remember what had happened. But she could not rest on that hope. Perhaps he would be too embarrassed to tell anyone. Then she may be able to work quietly in a home a long distance away. But she would never be sure that Cavender would not visit that household someday and find her. No, as long as she stayed among the gentry, she would always be at risk. There was nothing for it, she would need to change her occupation. She could find work in a city somewhere doing…something. 

As she began to contemplate the many dangerous and demeaning ways poor women might make money in a city, Sophie heard the fall of hooves approaching behind her. Her stomach sank. It could be Cavender, or someone he sent after her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a single rider on a white horse moving at no great speed. The Cavenders did not own any white horses but nevertheless, she began to dart off toward the trees. She knew the rider had already seen her and how futile a chase would be, but it was her only fleeting chance at freedom.

“Hello there?” The rider called out, his voice gentle, somehow familiar.

She paused. He certainly did not seem to be chasing her and it was not unusual that other people may be out on the road at this hour. Something within was telling her not to run. Where did she know that voice from? But she was not about to have a roadside chat with a stranger in the middle of the night. She needed to get to the village. She continued to walk along the side of the road, eyes forward, her steps purposeful but not frantic.

The rider caught up with her in quick order and slowed his horse to match her pace. “Good evening, Miss.”

He sounded polite enough but it didn’t stop Sophie from feeling a stab of annoyance. She was going to have to converse with this person, delaying her arrival to safety. Tired and unable to hide the grimace from her face, she turned to look up at him. For a moment she could only see his silhouette - a tall shadow with unruly hair and a high collar. Then her eyes adjusted and his features emerged in the moonlight. Dear god, it was Benedict Bridgerton.

She froze, every sound and every feeling melting away until all she could see was him. She didn’t even breathe as she stared. She had been fleeing for her life, running from torment, facing a hopeless future, and then suddenly Benedict Bridgerton appeared on a white horse like a knight in a fairy story. She wondered if she had fallen in the road and dashed her head on a rock because why else would she be seeing him unless she was hallucinating or in heaven?

“Are you alright?” he asked, stopping his horse beside her. Sophie’s breath hitched. Those were the last words he had said before she ran out of the masquerade so many years ago. She had heard them echoing over and over in her dreams. Of course she recognized his voice. Sophie nodded, looking him squarely in the eye, waiting for him to recognize her. 

“It’s a bit unusual for a woman to be walking the road alone so late at night. Do you work at Cavender House?” He held the reins in his hand, looking her up and down.

She continued to wait silently, jutting her chin so that he might see her better. Surely he would be able to tell. Maybe it was too dark for him to see her properly.

“Miss?” His face was growing increasingly concerned.

She wasn’t sure if she knew how to form words but found herself replying, “Not anymore.”

“Oh,” Benedict frowned. This night was not turning out at all how he had anticipated. Cavender’s party was not exactly the bacchanalia he had been promised. Benedict had always found him to be a weaselly sort of fellow but he had grown so bored with the stuffy events of the London season that he would have accepted any invitation that got him out of the city. Rather than finding distraction in the amusements on offer, he had been repulsed by the callow attendees, their slovenly overindulgences and blatant disregard for the women hired to entertain. He had seen his own share of raucous parties to be sure, but there was still such a thing as taste in how one enjoyed themselves and what he had discovered was that Cavender and his friends were lacking in it.

It wasn’t only the company that had spurred him to leave early. Feeling an ache settling into his bones, he was forced to accept that he had not fully recovered from a recent chest cold. The stink and noise filling Cavender House were aggravating his poorly condition. He had managed to extricate himself, tired and wanting nothing more than to throw himself into a bath at his ancestral home. It was a long road to Aubrey Hall but he thought he had the strength to manage it.

Except now there was a strange young woman in the road and he was not one to ignore a soul in distress. The nearest village was at least two miles away and she was alone, carrying nothing but a small bag which, he guessed, was everything she owned if she had just left the employment of the house. From what he could see of her in the moonlight she was lovely, with a short crop of hair and large, luminous eyes. He had the oddest sensation that they may have met before, though he didn’t know how that was possible. Perhaps she had worked in a household he had visited.

Dismounting, he stood before her, trying his best to seem trustworthy. “Something drove you out of the house in a hurry.” 

Sophie continued to stare, unwilling to believe that he didn’t recognize her even now that they were so close. 

Benedict was running out of ideas to get her to speak so instinctively, he reverted to humor. “I’ve just come from there myself. Between you and I, it was turning my stomach to be around that bunch of louts. Plenty of drink, plenty of frivolity, but certainly no sense of taste.”

“No,” Sophie rasped, beginning to understand how he came to be there. It had indeed been a tasteless party, led by a tasteless host. She was reassured that Benedict wasn’t of the same ilk as Cavender, given his poor opinion of it. For the past two years the memory of him had been the only thing giving her the motivation to press on through the toil of each day, the dream of him and the fantasy life they may have shared together if she had been born legitimate. If it had turned out that he was no better than Cavender, she would have nothing left in her miserable little life. Not even the memory of the masquerade to treasure. But here he was, miraculously comforting her by the roadside, an avenue to safety. 

She opened up to him, surprised at her own words. “I was treated roughly so decided to leave.” Not the whole truth, but enough to explain why she was walking through the night.

Benedict’s brow furrowed with concern and he nodded. “May I ask your name?”

Her name. The name he had begged her for at the masquerade. Now she would tell him for the first time. “Sophie Beckett,” she croaked.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Beckett. Are you headed to the village?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “To the Wayside Inn.”

“Would you permit me to take you there?” He chose his words carefully. He didn’t know what this woman had endured at Cavender’s but if it was enough to send her hiking out into the road at night, it must have been awful. Being approached by another man was likely the last thing she wanted, but if she trusted him, he’d rather it be him escorting her than god knows who else. If she declined, he would leave her be.

“Yes,” she agreed so readily it surprised him. 

“Excellent,” he smiled. “I will drop you there and continue on.” Surely he could manage a detour on the way to Aubrey Hall. He would rest easier knowing she was safe. He held out his hand. She did not take it. She just continued to stare at him curiously, her head cocked to the side. “Are you certain you’re all right?” he asked.

And that’s when Sophie realized. When they first met her face had been covered by a mask. Her hair had been longer and powdered to a lighter shade, lovely tresses that she had since sold to a wigmaker. She had grown scrawny in the intervening years of hard servitude. It was two entire years ago and they had only spoken for an hour or so, outside in the dark of the Bridgerton House garden. She understood now. He didn’t recognize her. How could he? She was not the same woman he had met on that magical night. 

She finally took his hand, her thoughts racing. Should she reveal herself? Would he believe her? As she followed him silently, he led her to the horse and patted the beast gently. “This is Danae. Not as comfortable as a carriage I’m afraid, but certainly faster than walking.” He grinned, his lopsided smile crinkling his eyes, and she felt her legs falter. 

As her mind whirred, Sophie moved automatically, lifting herself onto Danae and perching sideways behind the saddle. Benedict looked up at her, the cheeky grin still playing on his lips. “Where are my manners? I’m Mr. Benedict Bridgerton by the way.”

She almost said “I know,” but caught herself. Her voice cracked as she feigned ignorance. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

He glanced down at her legs. “If it would be easier, you can sit astride. No need to stand on ceremony with me.”

Benedict was on his most gentlemanly behavior. It was only right that he escort this quiet, poor young woman away from the fiend Cavender’s house and to a place of safety. It was also ridiculous to force her to ride sidesaddle. Firstly, she was not even properly in a saddle, and second, it was a most awkward feat that he had never understood how women managed. He genuinely wanted her to be secure and comfortable while they rode. But he also couldn’t help finding something alluring in the way she lifted her leg and swung it around to sit astride. 

Sophie caught a flicker of something devilish in his eyes as she repositioned herself. It forced a smirk across her own face even as the debate raged within her on whether to tell him that they had met before.

Benedict mounted into the saddle and took the reins. He was an inch away from her now, his broad back and dark hair filling her vision. She could see the fine velvet texture of his coat, the glint of the moonlight off the waves of his hair, and she could smell his cologne - sandalwood, fresh parchment, a walk in a green forest. She closed her eyes, breathing him in, her every sense engulfed by the man in front of her. Was this a dream? Was it a nightmare?

“Hold on,” he said over his shoulder. Sophie’s eyes flew open. Oh god, she hadn’t even thought about this when she agreed to ride with him. She would have to hold onto him, to wrap her arms around him and press their bodies together. She didn’t know if she would be able to bear it, but there certainly wasn’t any way to avoid it now. With great trepidation, she settled her bag securely in her lap then lightly rested a hand on either side of his torso.

She could hear him chuckle under his breath. “Tighter than that or else you’ll fall off, Miss Beckett.” Gently, he pulled her hands across his chest. Her palms rested against the buttons of his coat and she trembled as she realized she could feel him breathing. 

“There we are,” she could hear the smile in his voice. Then he signaled to Danae, tapped her with the stirrups and they set off in a gentle, steady trot. 

They encountered no one else on the road and the night was silent save for the trills of evening insects. This was nothing like the masquerade where they had so much to say to one another. But Sophie reminded herself that this was different. She was a maid and he was a gentleman of the ton. They shouldn’t have anything in common now.

But still, she kept waiting for him to recognize her and tell her he’d been looking for her for two years. But that wasn’t going to happen, she soon realized. He couldn’t recognize the lady in the housemaid, and in all truth, why should he?

People saw what they expected to see. And Benedict Bridgerton surely didn’t expect to see a fine lady of the ton in the guise of a humble housemaid.

Not a day had gone by that she hadn’t thought of him, hadn’t remembered his lips on her skin, or the heady magic of that costumed night. He had become the centerpiece of her fantasies, dreams in which she was a different person, with different parents. In her dreams, she’d met him at a ball, maybe her own ball, hosted by her devoted mother and father. He courted her sweetly, with fragrant flowers and stolen kisses. And then, on a mellow spring day, while the birds were singing and a gentle breeze rustled the air, he got down on one knee and asked her to marry him, professing his everlasting love and adoration.

It was a fine daydream, surpassed only by the one in which they lived happily ever after, man and wife, always with a new adventure in store; traveling across the Continent, filling their home with art and music, and visiting with the large Bridgerton family, a family that she could then call her own.

But even with all her fantasies, she never imagined she’d actually see him again, much less be rescued by him from the roadside after escaping a licentious attacker.

Benedict broke her reverie with a rasping cough before asking, “Is that bag all that you have?” 

“Yes,” she admitted. “This is everything.”

He was silent for a moment, then said, “You have quite a refined accent for a housemaid.”

He was not the first to make that observation, so Sophie gave him the answer she kept in store. “My mother was a housekeeper to a very generous family. They allowed me to share some of their daughter’s lessons.”

“Why do you not work there?” With an expert twist of his wrists, he guided Danae to the left side of the fork in the road. “I assume you do not speak of the Cavenders.”

“No,” she replied, trying to devise a proper answer. No one had ever bothered to probe deeper than her offered explanation. No one had ever been interested enough to care. “My mother passed on,” she finally replied, “and I did not deal well with the new housekeeper.”

He seemed to accept that and they rode on for a few minutes. The night was almost silent, save for the wind, the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves and an occasional hacking cough from Benedict.

“Are you unwell, Mr. Bridgerton?” Sophie asked. 

“I’m fine,” he gasped, jerking slightly on the reins. 

And then there was more silence. Sophie tried to keep her eyes scrupulously straight on the road ahead, but they unfailingly wandered back to Benedict, to his shoulders, his hair, the angle of his jaw. She had the most absurd fear that if their eyes met, he would finally recognize her. But that was mere fancy. He’d already looked her squarely in the eye, more than once even, and he still thought her nothing but a housemaid.

Benedict was trying to fight down the coughs that continued to rise from his chest but it was getting harder and harder to do so. What a strange night. He could feel the creep of his oncoming illness and was growing more weary with each passing minute. He desperately wanted to rest but he also felt singularly invested in seeing Miss Beckett safely delivered to the inn. While rare enough to have a stranger riding on Danae, her arms wrapped around him, he felt the oddest tingling sensation across his skin where she was touching him. The heat of her against his back nearly made him shudder. There was something about her he couldn’t place. He stole a glance over his shoulder. There was something familiar about the curve of her cheek as well…

“Have we met?” he blurted out.

“No,” she choked, her answer instinctual as a spike of fear shot through her. “I don’t believe so.” 

“I’m sure you’re right,” he muttered, “but still you do seem rather familiar.”

“All housemaids look the same,” she said with a wry smile.

“I used to think so,” he mumbled. 

Sophie admonished herself as soon as the words left her lips. Didn’t she want him to recognize her? Wasn’t she hoping he would come to his senses, leap off the horse, gather her in his arms and declare his love? Didn’t she want him to carry her off to the life of her dreams?

But that was precisely the problem. They were just dreams. In her dreams she knew Benedict Bridgerton. In her dreams he loved her. Loved her enough to marry her despite the circumstances of her birth and the chasm of a class divide that existed between them. These were dreams and nothing more. In reality she barely knew this man. He had flirted with her at a masquerade when he believed she was a debutante. Just because it had been special for her did not mean it was special for him. He was a man, after all, and had most likely had passionate encounters with dozens of other women. She knew, in his position, that he attended scores of balls. Why should one masquerade stand out in his memory? Perhaps it was so insignificant that he never again thought of the lady in silver. If she revealed herself to him now there was a fair chance he would feel honor bound to return her to Cavender House or perhaps to Araminta. Either way she would end up in prison for theft or attack. Quite the opposite of a dream come true. 

It was best if he did not recognize her. She didn’t know if she could survive his rejection or retribution. She would be grateful for this second meeting that they had, though she railed against fate that it felt like a bittersweet joke being played upon her. She would enjoy the sight and feel and smell of him, the sound of his voice, for these brief moments, rounding off the dreams she had carried with her for years, then allow him to leave her at the inn and once again exit her life. It was heartbreakingly painful but she knew it was for the best.

As if the sky acknowledged her sorrow, she suddenly felt the plop of raindrops spattering her shoulders. 

“It’s raining,” she observed, immediately scolding herself for sounding obtuse.

Benedict looked up. The moon was now obscured by clouds. “It didn’t look like rain when I left,” he murmured. A fat raindrop landed on his thigh. “But I do believe you’re correct.”

She glanced at the sky. “The wind has picked up quite a bit. I hope it doesn’t storm.”

“Of course it will,” he said wryly. “Because we are out in the open. If we were in a carriage there wouldn’t be a could in the sky.”

“How close are we to the village?”

“About half an hour away, I should think.” He frowned. “Provided we are not slowed by the rain.”

“Well, I do not mind a bit of rain,” she said gamely. Then her voice grew quieter, “I have not yet thanked you.” 

Benedict turned his head sharply but again could only see the side of her face. By all that was holy, there was something damned familiar about her voice. But she was just a simple housemaid. A very attractive housemaid, to be sure, but a housemaid nonetheless. No one with whom he would ever have crossed paths.

“Any gentleman would have done the same,” he said at last. He wasn't sure which part of him was tied into tighter knots, his body, which was heating up as his throat began to ache, or his mind which was perplexed at why this woman was having such an odd effect on him.

Then the heavens opened up in earnest with a crack of thunder. Within minutes both of them were soaked through, pummeled by rain torrenting in sheets.

“I’ll get there as quickly as I can,” he shouted, trying to make himself heard over the wind.

“Don’t worry about me!” she assured him.

He nudged Danae into a faster pace, but the road was growing muddy, and the wind was whipping the rain every which way, reducing the already mediocre visibility.

Bloody hell. This was just what he needed. He knew he was already falling ill, and a ride in the freezing rain would not help matters. Of course, if he were ill, his mother couldn’t try to cajole him into attending every single party in town, all in the hopes that he would find some suitable young lady and settle down into a quiet and happy marriage.

To his credit, he always kept his eyes open, was always on the lookout for a prospective bride. He certainly wasn’t opposed to marriage on principle. His brother Anthony and his sister Daphne had made splendidly happy matches. But Anthony’s and Daphne’s marriages were splendidly happy because they’d been smart enough to wed the right people, and Benedict was quite certain he had not yet met the right person.

No, he thought, his mind wandering back a few years, that wasn’t entirely true. He'd once met someone…

The lady in silver.

When he’d held her in his arms and twirled her around in her very first waltz, he’d felt something different inside, a fluttering, tingling sensation. It should have scared the hell out of him.

But it hadn’t. It had left him breathless, excited…and determined to have her.

But then she’d disappeared. It was as if the world were actually flat, and she’d fallen right off the edge. And his long search had been fruitless. Interviewing family, friends and staff, no one knew anything about a young lady attending the masquerade in a silver dress. No one except his brother Colin who had also met her for a brief moment but confessed he had never seen her before or since. He had leaned hard on his younger brother, driven to near madness by every dead end he had encountered. Had Colin slipped something into his tea? Recruited a friend to seduce him as some kind of elaborate prank? When he saw the flicker of concern in Colin’s eyes he eased off, ashamed of how uncharacteristically bitter he was becoming.

He remained distraught. His only other clue, the lady’s silver glove, had also yielded no helpful information. He had clung to it, carrying it in his pocket for three days before Eloise asked why he had not brought it to the modiste to decipher its origins. In truth, he had thought of doing so but had not yet mustered the courage to face Genevieve, an old flame that had been so swiftly and unceremoniously snuffed out without explanation. With little more than a dismissive curtsy she had moved on, no longer escorting him in debaucherous adventures through the demi-monde. It was her prerogative of course and he harbored no ill will toward her, but still felt a pang of shame speaking to her again for the first time with another woman’s glove in his hand, begging his former lover to help him find the woman he wanted to marry.

In a few days more, the enduring mystery pushed him past his embarrassment and he found himself standing on the doorstep of the dress shop. Gen was surprised to see him and looked even more baffled as he produced the solitary silver glove, asking if she knew where it had been made and perhaps who had purchased it. Her expression was unreadable as she took it from him, examined it for a moment and then proclaimed she didn’t recognize it. She suspected it may have been purchased from any number of shops or street vendors but it was not her creation. After awkwardly extending his thanks, Benedict was back on the street marching to every clothier, atelier and corner shop he could find. None of them would claim ownership of the glove and each failed attempt widened the void of despair growing in his heart.

Over two years he never learned anything more about his lady in silver. For all intents and purposes, it was as if she hadn’t even existed.

He’d watched for her at every ball, party, and musicale he attended. Hell he attended twice as many functions as usual, just in the hopes that he’d catch a glimpse of her. 

But he’d always come home disappointed.

He’d thought he would stop looking for her. He was a practical man, and he’d assumed that eventually he would simply give up. And in some ways, he had. After a few months he found himself back in the habit of turning down more invitations than he accepted. A few months after that, he realized that he was once again able to meet women and not automatically compare them to her. 

But he couldn’t stop himself from watching for her. He might not feel the same urgency, but whenever he attended a ball or took a seat at a musicale, he found his eyes sweeping across the crowd, his ears straining for the lilt of her laughter.

She was out there somewhere. He’d long since resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t likely to find her, and he hadn’t searched actively for over a year, but…

He smiled wistfully, despite the rain on his face. He just couldn’t stop from looking. It had become, in a very strange way, a part of who he was. His name was Benedict Bridgerton, he had seven brothers and sisters, was rather skilled with both a sword and sketching charcoal, and he always kept his eyes open for the one woman who had touched his soul.

He kept hoping…and wishing…and watching. And even though he told himself it was probably time to marry, he just couldn’t muster the enthusiasm to do so.

Because what if he put his ring on some woman’s finger, and the next day he saw her?

It would be enough to break his heart.

No, it would be more than that. It would be enough to shatter his soul.

Benedict breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the distant lights of the village of Rosemeade. He determined that he too would need to shelter at the inn for the night before continuing on to Aubrey Hall the next day. 

He felt a pang of concern as he realized Miss Beckett’s pale hands were shivering against his chest. But, he thought with a touch of admiration, she hadn’t let out even a peep of complaint. Benedict tried to think of another woman of his acquaintance who would have stood up to the elements with such fortitude, and came up empty-handed. 

“We’re almost there,” he assured her, but his voice faltered and he was gripped by a wave of coughs, the deep, hacking kind that rumble down in one’s chest. His lungs felt as if they were on fire, and his throat like someone had taken a razor blade to it. 

Sophie winced as he convulsed within her arms. “You don’t sound well.” she shouted over the wind.

“I’ve a cold coming on,” he called back to her.

“I don’t want you getting sick on my account.” She tried to sound somewhat teasing, but in truth, she was terribly concerned. 

He tried to grin, but his face ached too much. “I would’ve been caught in the rain whether I’d taken you along or not. I was planning to go as far as Aubrey Hall, which is miles away.”

“Still - “ Whatever she’d intended to say was lost under another stream of deep, chesty coughs. Danae whinied as the reins went slack, but she held her course toward the village lights. 

Benedict shook his head, trying to clear the rain from his eyes and hold himself together for the final few minutes. His coughing fits were coming closer and closer together, and each time they were deeper, more rumbly, as if they were coming from the very pit of his chest. His throat was torn raw, but he kept his eyes ahead and spurred Danae on. Sophie’s hands clung to him tightly, with concern or fear he wasn’t sure, but he was grateful because she was, in fact, helping him to stay upright. 

He was wheezing by the time they reached the village high road and fortunately, the Wayside Inn was situated at the near edge of town. He turned Danae into the stables alongside the building, not bothering for anyone to wave them in. They had to get out of the rain. Once under the rooftop, a stableboy appeared and ran over to grip the horse’s harness.

“Evening, Miss. Evening, my lord. Nasty weather!” 

Benedict didn’t have the breath to converse unnecessarily. He went to haul himself down from the saddle but discovered that his every bone ached, his skin was on fire, and his clothes were so heavy with rain that he failed to rise. Before he knew it, Sophie had jumped down and was talking with the boy. His ears were ringing and he missed what was said, but the boy hitched Danae to the nearest post and dashed into the building.

“Come inside,” Sophie looked up at him and extended her hands. He stared at her, seeing her in the lantern light for the first time. She was soaked through in her thin cloak, dripping strands of her short hair matted against her face, her skin white with cold. Her large eyes were concerned but also insistent. She wasn’t delicate, that much was clear, and she was now trying to escort him to the inn, when he knew it should be the other way round. Truly, was he that weak that he had to be helped down from his horse by a woman? He appreciated her concern but he would not be so humiliated. Another round of coughs bent him double over Danae’s neck and he fought to regain his breath. He still ignored her hands and half-fell out of the saddle but was caught from stumbling to the ground by a man in an apron who had just emerged.

“Woah! All right, my lord?” the man asked, steadying Benedict on his feet. 

Before he could respond, Sophie spoke, “Mr. Bridgerton is quite ill and will need a room for the night, as will I. Please help him inside.”

Benedict was dumbfounded. Who was this maid to be issuing orders and tending to him like a child? He was very well in control…

“Very good,” said the man in the apron, placing an arm around Benedict’s back and urging him forward. Though he hated to admit it, Benedict did indeed need the support, as his legs were all but failing him, muscles sore from the ride and bones aching within. Sophie followed closely behind as they all entered the inn while the stableboy returned to tend to Danae.

The Wayside Inn was warm and charming, an undeniable refuge from the wailing storm outside. The man with Benedict did not stop at the front desk but continued straight down a candlelit hall and guided Benedict, stumbling, into a room. Sophie turned to the man at the desk. He was white-haired and rotund, with mutton chops and kind eyes.

“Don’t worry, Miss,” he spoke gently. “We’ll see that the gentleman is taken care of. I’m the innkeeper, Mr. Cooper,” he smiled.

“Thank you Mr. Cooper. I’m Miss Sophie Beckett.” Sophie was suddenly aware of how awful she must look, like a drowned rat with her clothes dripping pools onto the floor, but he did not seem to take notice. 

Mr. Cooper bent and scribbled something in his ledger. “And the gentleman you are with, the boy said he’s a Mr. Bridgerton?” 

“Yes,” Sophie nodded. She had sent the stable boy inside to fetch help and had shared his surname, hoping it would carry a weight deserving of urgency. “Mr. Benedict Bridgerton,” she confirmed. He scribbled again and she continued. “He was delivering me here before continuing on to Aubrey Hall. But he has fallen ill. We will need two rooms for the night, and can you send word to the Hall in the morning to send a carriage to collect him?”

Mr. Cooper nodded, “Aubrey Hall, yes, yes. I’ll send a boy there as soon as the rain stops. Cost for the two rooms…” He stopped writing and looked up as she began to dig into her small, soaked bag. “Cost will be charged to the Bridgerton estate. I’ll send the bill with the boy tomorrow.”

Sophie froze. The innkeeper likely assumed she was a maid employed by the Bridgertons and as such, Benedict would pay for her. That or he was extending her a courtesy and being incredibly diplomatic about it. She had the coin to afford a night in a modest room of the inn but could not afford two. It did make sense for Benedict’s expenses to be charged to his estate but she should pay her own way. She decided not to confuse the matter. She would settle up with Benedict, paying him in reimbursement.

She thanked Mr. Cooper as the man in the apron returned to the entryway. “Follow me, Miss,” he beckoned her down the same hall and into a large guest room. 

This was far more than the modest tier of room she could afford. It was clearly one of the inn’s finest accommodations reserved for upper class guests with a four poster bed, upholstered armchairs and a fire roaring away in the tiled fireplace. Sophie stood in the doorway gaping but before she could protest, the man explained. “Mr. Bridgerton requested that you have the room next to his.” There was, she detected, a tone of curiosity and perhaps a bit of snideness to his voice. No doubt he wanted to know why a bedraggled housemaid had shown up with a distinguished member of the ton and was being granted such luxury. She too wanted to know why Benedict had requested this.

“You will also need some dry clothes,” the man continued. “I have sent one of the maids to find a spare night dress.”

“Thank you,” Sophie said weakly, overwhelmed.

The man half-smiled, half-grimaced, then closed the door. The warmth of the fire beckoned her and she went to stand before it, holding her hands as close to the flames as she dared. She peeled off her damp cloak and smoothed her hair to look halfway presentable. She sat before the fire, warming herself and staring about the beautiful room. There certainly was no way she could afford to reimburse Benedict now. But, she reminded herself, if it was his request to have her stay in this room, she supposed he planned to pay for it as well. 

Without warning, she found herself inexplicably in tears. She cried for what could have been her fate that evening, and she cried for what had been her fate ever since her father died. She cried for the memory of when Benedict held her in his arms at the masquerade, and she cried because she had held him in her arms this very night. 

She cried because he was so damned nice, and even though he was clearly ill, even though she was, in his eyes, nothing but a housemaid, he still wanted to care for her and protect her. 

She cried because she hadn’t let herself cry in longer than she could remember, and she cried because she felt so alone. 

And she cried because she’d been dreaming of him for so very long, and he hadn’t recognized her. It was probably best that he did not, but her heart still ached from it. Eventually her tears subsided and she eyed the bed, feeling the weight of exhaustion descending on her. God above, a feather mattress and down coverlet looked like heaven on earth. She hadn’t slept in such comfort in years. But first, she should look in on Benedict.

Stepping out into the hall, she approached the door she had seen him led into. She knocked and called out quietly, “Mr. Bridgerton?”

A muffled sort of groan replied, which would have sounded like an invitation if it had been intelligible. She let herself inside and closed the door. Benedict was sprawled in an armchair before the fireplace, feet resting on the small table in front of him which held a decanter and glass half-full of some spirit. His outer coat had been removed but he was still in all of his sopping clothes, waistcoat unbuttoned and cravat hanging loose. He was pale, his eyes were bloodshot, and his disheveled hair continued to send rivulets of rain down the sides of his face. He clearly had collapsed there upon arrival and not moved since.

“How are you, sir?” She asked.

His eyes rolled slowly to look at her. “Not too well,” he rasped.

The fire he sat beside was not as tall as the one in her own room, Sophie noticed. She moved across and knelt, turning the logs with the poker. “You need to get warm,” she said. She could feel his eyes on her and suddenly wondered if it was dangerous to remain in the same room as him. She didn’t think he was likely to make an untoward advance; he was far too much of a gentleman to foist himself upon a woman he barely knew. No, the danger lay squarely within herself. Frankly, she was terrified that if she spent too much time in his company she might fall head over heels in love.

And what would that get her? Nothing but a broken heart. Sophie huddled in front of the fireplace for several minutes, stoking the flame until she was confident that it would not flicker out. “There,” she announced once she was satisfied. 

She turned to look up at him. For the first time that night she could see his face clearly in the bright light of the fire. She held her breath, seeing how simultaneously similar but still how different he looked from the vision in her dreams. When they first met he had been wearing a mask, the same as her, and she had only seen his full face for one fleeting moment after the gong had sounded and before she had run away. She had had to construct his face in her mind from that single moment and often found it easier to remember him in the mask. But here he was, in the flesh. His mouth was the same as her memory, his eyes the same piercing blue-grey, bloodshot as they may be at the moment. But to see all his features together, they were greater than the sum of their parts. He looked older now, slightly more world-weary, and like he smiled less often. His hair too was shorter, lending to him an air of increased responsibility, making him look less wild and boyish.

“Thank you for the room,” she said softly. “I could have paid for my own.”

“No,” he croaked, reaching for the glass on the table. “I needed to make sure you were somewhere warm. I didn’t get you from the side of the road just so you could die of influenza.”

He took a gulp of the brown spirit, swallowed, but then began to cough anew, the spasms wracking his body and forcing him to bend over at the waist.

“Begging your pardon, Mr. Bridgerton,” she could not help commenting, “but of the two of us, I should think you’re more in danger of contracting influenza.”

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely, “I-”

“There’s nothing to feel sorry about,” she said. “You need to get into bed.” 

He swallowed convulsively and nodded, rising unsteadily to his feet, and managing to plod over to the bed. He bent over as he was once again engulfed by coughs. Sophie hurried to his side and stumbled under his weight when he decided to lean against her instead of the bedpost.

“Over here,” she guided him to sit on the edge of the mattress.

He grinned, “You coming?”

She pulled back, “Now I think you’re feverish.”

He lifted his hand to touch his forehead, but he smacked his nose instead. “Ow,” he frowned, sticking out his lower lip. His hand crept up to his forehead. “Hmmm, maybe I am a bit hot.”

It was horribly familiar of her, but his health was at stake, so Sophie reached out and touched her hand to his brow. It was burning. In fact, she could feel the heat radiating off the whole of his body from where she stood. “You need to get out of those wet clothes,” she said. “Immediately.”

Benedict looked down, blinking as if the sight of his sodden clothing was a surprise. “Yes,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Yes, I believe I do.” His fingers went to the buttons on his shirt, but they were clammy and numb and kept slipping and sliding. Finally, he just shrugged at her and said helplessly, “I can’t do it.”

“Oh, dear.” she sighed. “Here,” First things first, she pulled his jacket down from his shoulders and he moved his arms to help her slip it off. It felt as if it weighed ten pounds, it was so wet. Next was his waistcoat, a lovely deep blue color with a gold brocade. Then her fingers went to work on his cravat, golden yellow silk held together with a jewel encrusted pin in the shape of a honeybee. She knelt before him, gently tugging the knots loose. He gave her a lopsided smile, his voice slurring, “Not very…” he coughed again, this one lower and deeper than before. “...gentlemanly of me.”

“Oh I think I can forgive you this time, considering the way you helped me this evening.” She smirked at him as she pulled the cravat loose, the wrapped layers slipping around his neck until it was freed. All that was left was his ruffled shirt. She made quick work of the buttons, gritting her teeth and doing her best to keep her gaze averted as each undone button revealed another two inches of his skin. “Almost done,” she muttered. “Just a moment now.”

He didn’t say anything in reply, so she looked up at his face. His eyes were closed and his entire body was swaying slightly. 

“Mr. Bridgerton?” she asked softly.

Benedict’s eyes flew open. “What?”

“You’re drifting off,” she warned him. “You can’t fall asleep in wet clothing.” 

He blinked confusedly. 

“Have you something dry you can change into?” she asked.

He shrugged the shirt off, tossing it to the floor. Sophie felt her stomach lurch, kneeling before him as he sat there shirtless, and she instinctively stood and stepped back. 

“No,” he mumbled, his hands falling to the buttons on his waistband.

“What are you doing?”

He looked over at her as if she’d asked the most inane question in the world. “Taking my trousers off.”

“Couldn’t you at least wait until I’d turned my back?”

He stared at her blankly.

She stared back.

He stared some more. Finally, he said, “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to turn your back?”

“Oh!” she yelped, spinning around as if someone had lit a fire under her feet.

Benedict shook his head wearily as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots and stockings. God save him from prudish misses. He stripped off his trousers - not an easy task considering they were still more than a little damp and he quite literally had to peel them from his skin. Once he was undressed, he quirked a brow in the direction of Sophie’s back. She was standing rigidly, her hands fisted tightly at her sides. 

With surprise, he realized the sight of her made him smile. Overwhelmed by descending exhaustion and the aching of his entire body, he grabbed the edge of the coverlet, dragged it over himself, sagged back against the pillows and groaned.

“Are you all right?” Sophie called.

He made an effort to say, “Fine,” but it came out more like, “Fmmph.”

He heard her moving about, and when he summoned up the energy to lift one eyelid halfway open, he saw that she’d moved back to the side of the bed. She looked concerned. 

For some reason, that seemed rather sweet. It had been a long time since any woman who wasn’t related to him had been concerned for his welfare. 

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, trying to give her a reassuring smile. But his voice sounded like it was coming through a long narrow tunnel. “Go to bed,” he grunted.

“Are you certain?”

He nodded. It was getting too difficult to speak.

“Very well. If you need anything, just call out.”

He nodded again. Or at least he tried to. Then he slept.

Tagging: @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @eg-dr3amer3 @time-to-hit-the-clouds @lyta2323 @autumn-grace @sadprose-auroras @the-other-art-blog @goldrambutan @colettebronte @heeyyyou @musicismyoxygen84 @faye-tale @ambitionspassionscoffee @starchaser325 @malna4903

[crockettmarcel]

For the setting prompts… if you wanna write missing x bones, maybe that + inside an old abandoned house. But if you’re not feeling the crossover just whatever form of missing you wanna write!

the baby in the blanket (1816 words) by crockettmarcel Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Bones (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Seeley Booth/Temperance Brennan, Jack Hodgins/Angela Montenegro Characters: Temperance Brennan, Seeley Booth, James Aubrey, Camille Saroyan, Jack Hodgins, Angela Montenegro, Jessica Warren Additional Tags: Case Fic, Kidnapping, Season/Series 11, brennan is Fine and OK, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Summary: “Are you okay?” She asks, voice barely above a whisper. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” “Well, it’s just with Hank being so young-” “Dr Saroyan, that’s completely illogical. Hank is safe at home with Max. And besides, these remains belong to a baby much younger than Hank. I’ll know more when we get them back to the lab, but I don’t believe this baby to have survived for long after birth.”

or

Brennan knows this wasn't a murder, and that the Jeffersonian's time would be better spent on other things. She just can't help the fact that she sees her son's face on Baby Doe's skull

after forever and ever and ever, here is chapter one!

[ltwilliammowett]

Sailors Superstition Part 5

You can find the other parts here- Part 4 -  Part 3 -  Part 2  - Part 1

(x)

Pour some Wine

Yo Ho and a buddle of rum. Now let's leave the rum with the crew. But a sip of wine is a must. And that's where the captain comes in. Because a few sips poured on the deck not only calmed the ship but was also an offering to Neptune for a good and happy voyage. There is also the variant of pouring the wine into the sea. But that can make the ship jealous, so pouring it on the deck is the best option. Because no one wants the wooden lady to become a fury.

Throw a coin

What also works is to simply throw a small coin overboard. This is also considered a sacrifice to Neptune and serves to ensure a happy voyage. By the way, Neptune doesn't really care what the coin is worth, so a penny is also fine.

Stir your tea

But let's go below deck and have some tea. But don't stir it with a fork or knife instead of a spoon. That invites misfortune aboard.

Aubrey, may I trouble you for the salt?

The same applies to the serving of salt. You remember the part in Master and Commander where Jack told about Nelson asking him for the salt? Well, he wouldn't have handed it to him directly. Because that brings bad luck. To avoid that, the salt had to be passed clockwise to the person sitting next to him until it reached where it was needed.

It stinks of fish

Let's jump ashore for a moment and take a quick look at our fishing colleagues. To ensure that the session would be a successful one, a crewmember was first selected to be thrown overboard and immediately recaptured to ensure a good catch. Equally auspicious was the method of salting the nets to attract the fish and if the nets were cast in an odd number, a good catch was assured.

Green are my colour- or not

If you are thinking of painting your longboat or the ship itself green, you have a problem. Because that would make the wooden lady so mad, she would throw herself onto the rocks and drown herself and everyone on her. The same applied to the boat.

[nothwell]

Chapter Twelve of Vampires Vampires Vampires , a M/M/M Victorian vampire romance, is up on Patre♡n! Wherein the baronet attends a ball.

~

“I know some of these old fish,” said Uncle Jack. “But the young minnows have me at a loss. Who’re those pale little slips yonder?”

Malory gave thanks that his uncle merely jerked his chin at the family in question rather than pointing with hand or hook. “The Throckmortons. You might remember their late father.”

“Ah, yes—a broth of a boy!”

As his uncle did not see fit to explain that remark, Malory continued as if he hadn’t heard it.

~

Joining me on Patre♡n will give you access to “drawer fic” – aka the 500k+ words worth of manuscripts that have been shelved until I figure out how to fix or finish them. You'll also be invited to join an exclusive Discord server just for patrons!

A new chaper will go up every week. Missing (unwritten) scenes will be indicated by brackets describing what would probably happen if the scene were written. Example: [in this scene Aubrey and Lindsey ride a carousel]

Currently posting… ♡ Vampires Vampires Vampires (mmm)

Completed works... ♡ the Aubrey & Lindsey solar fantasy project (mm) ♡ A Willing Canvas - John Halloway x Lord Cyril Graves (mm) ♡ The Train Job - Rowena Althorp x Rebekah (ff) ♡ Hold Fast 2 - Hold Faster (mm)

See you on Patre♡n!

[mystery-star]

Pre-departure – Jack Aubrey

Pairing: Jack Aubrey x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: none

Words: 364

Please do not repost my work on other sites or platforms!

-

As a child you had always dreamed of a big wedding with a huge feast. But now, that you had met your One, the wedding didn’t matter anymore. Only that you could call Jack Aubrey yours and vice versa. The wedding had fit perfectly; you hadn’t even known that a captain could carry out his own wedding. Having been docked at a port on a small but beautiful island, you even had a little honeymoon. Because it was so nice, you didn’t want to return home, so on your last evening, you sat at the window of the little cabin you had rented for a week, absentmindedly nipping at your cup of tea.

“What’s on your mind?” Jack asked, having looked up from his maps he was studying. Even now, as he was on shore leave and in his honeymoon, he couldn’t quite let go of work.

“I don’t want to go home” you admitted “After all, I just got you to myself and then, when we’re back home you’ll have to leave again and leave me on my own” you let out a sigh and put your cup down. He got up and took a seat next to you.

“I’ll write you. And come home as often as I can” you shrugged

“Still won’t be as good as having you around every day” he placed an arm around your waist.

“Ah, I bet you would get annoyed too quick for your own good and wish I’m gone” you let out a snort

“At least I wouldn’t miss you then” he placed his chin on your shoulder and pecked your cheek.

“Well, I can promise you one thing; I too will miss you”

“But you’ll be at work. On a ship. I bet you don’t have time to think of me or miss me that often”

“Then find yourself something you love to do so you’ll feel the same”

“Hm” you turned to him “Right now, the thing I love to do most is cuddling with my husband” as if to illustrate the words you hugged him tight, burying your face against his chest “Maybe I should find a pet I can cuddle instead”

-

Taglist: @woman-with-no-name​

[fafi-and-oblivia]

About Oblivia!

Hello! You can call me Oblivia! I am one of two admins on this account. Feel free to talk to me about Buzzfeed Unsolved, Jack Manifold (+other youtubers/streamers), Taylor Swift, MCR, Lovejoy, Fall Out Boy, BTS, Minecraft, Cryptid Coffeehouse, baseball, and many other things!!

I will write: angst, fluff, fics, headcanons, character x reader

I will not write: NSFW, yandere, gore, anything morally wrong (pls use common sense, I will just delete asks with typical taboo topics), I also will not write for real people, or character x character.

Fandoms/characters I write! Asterisks(*) denote favorites to write. List is subject to change!

Blooming Panic (current obsession): Nightowl*, Quest, Xyx*, NakedToaster*, Two2, BIGLADY*, Onionthief*

Harry Potter (fuck JKR): Harry Potter, Ron Weasley*, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom*, Seamus Finnigan, Oliver Wood*, Draco Malfoy, Matteo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire

Percy Jackson: Percy Jackson*, Annabeth Chase, Luke Castellan*, Jason Grace*, Leo Valdez*, Piper McLean*, Frank Zhang, Hazel Levesque, Connor Stoll*, Lityerses, pretty much anyone!

The Quarry: Ryan Erzahler*, Dylan Lenivy*, Nick Furcillo, Jacob Custos, Abi Blyge, Max Brinly, Kaitlyn Ka*

Supernatural: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester*, Castiel, Kevin Tran*, Jack Kline, Charlie Bradbury

TSITP (boycotting season 2 bc I hate Belly): Jeremiah Fisher*, Conrad Fisher, Steven Conklin

To All The Boys/XO, Kitty: Josh Sanderson, Peter Kavinsky, Kitty Song-Covey, Min Ho*

The Umbrella Academy: Diego*, Five, Klaus

Bones: Zack Addy*, Vincent Nigel-Murray*, Wendell Bray, James Aubrey, Angela Montenegro*

The Haunting of Bly Manor: Dani, Jamie*

[shelbgrey]

Falling in love with James Aubrey after losing Lance Sweets:

Paring: James Aubrey x Hodgins!Reader, previously Lance Sweets x wife!Reader

Summary: learning to fall in love again after your husband Lance passes away. - there will be a part 2!

🩷MasterList 🩷Part 2

you first met James Aubrey when he helped you and your husband Lance figure out who framed your best friend Seeley Booth.

Your first thoughts of him was that he was kinda adorable with his extreme eating habits and goofy personality.

“he's adorable” you whispered to Booth, when you said it back then you didn't mean it as you were attract to him. You ment as if someone called a small child adorable.

What you didn't know was he was smitten when he saw you, he thought you were beautiful and extremely smart. He couldn't stop staring at you and your husband and best friend noticed.

Lance trusted you and it was clear you weren't interested to Aubrey, he let it go and focused on the case. He was still sharp towrds him though, he was checking his wife out after all.

Booth had a different reaction, he thought it was humorous but wanted to Inform him before he started playing with fire. He took Aubry aside without you two knowing “married” he pointed at you, he then pointed to Lance. “husband”

He didn't know why it hurt so much, especially do to the fact you guys just met, but there was something about you and he couldn't get you out of his head. He really tried to let it go but failed, he had a crush on a married woman.

“don't worry” Seeley said, patting his back. “you'll get over it like the rest of them” meaning everyone has had a crush on you at least once.

To make matters worse he was there to witness your husband getting gun down. He felt tears run down his cheek as he watched you hold Lance lifeless body and sob.

“please don't leave me” you cried and rested your forehead on his. “I love you so much” Lance said softly

James didn't know what to do, he wanted to help some how but he only stood there in shock.

Seeley tried to separate you and Lance but you weren't having it. “he's not dying! Please Temperance help me” you cried.

Temperance was trying to hold it together herself. She held back her tears and looked at her husband then back at you. “honey... He's gone”

Seeley made his final good by in privet. “I'll make sure they're alright... Y/n and Charlotte both, I promise to protect them”

And just like that the love of your life was gone, it left a huge whole in your heart and all you wanted to do was avenge Lance.

What hurt you most was telling your daughter Charlotte that her daddy was gone, and on top of that your son hadn't even been born yet.

You stayed strong for your daughter, she had yet to real learn about death. She would have with when her gold fish Gus died but Lance replaced it while she was at preschool. All she knew was her daddy was in Heaven now.

You couldn't sleep on Lance's side of the bed, work got harder, and you just started to drift through time. Your brother Jack got worried about you and asked you and your daughter to move in with him and Angela.

It was a nice change, you got to be with your big brother, who you saw as your hero and Charlotte had the opportunity to grow up with her cousin Michael-Vincent.

A couple months went by and you started to feel better, you knew Lance wouldn't want you to be in so much pain so you tried to just live every day in his name.

Suprisenly James became a good friend to you, for awhile he forgot about his crush on you and just wanted to be there for you and your Daughter.

He made you laugh, the first time you really laughed since Lance passed away was when you went on a case with Seeley and James. It was video game company and James stoped to take a goofy selfie with a bigfoot. Seeley would have told him to knock it off, but it was the first time he heard you laugh in a while and he didn't want to take that away from you.

The more you hung out the more he fell for you and it scared the hell out of him... The both of you. At the time you didn't want another relationship, Lance was the love of your life and you always thought you only get one. You were scared you were giving off the wrong signals to him. Your kindness has been mistaken for flirting before.

Two years passed and your friendship with James only grew stronger. He was their when your son Seeley Lance Sweets was born. He was in the waiting room while your brother and Angela was there comforting you.

James got to be one of the first few to hold little Seeley and was aw struck. Once he saw that little boy he made a promised that he'd protect him and his sister from now on.

People noticed how differently James would treat you. He was naturally a kind man, but with you he treated you like a queen and was always there to protect you if you were out of the lab helping with a case.

He treated your kids like his own, he knew he'd could never replace Lance and he wasn't trying to, but if he need to babyset he would, if they want him read them a story he'll go all out and make difference voices for the characters. He loves your son and daughter.

Then there was the whole sharing food. People knew not to get in between James and his food. Your friends suspected his feelings when they cought you two sharing a plate of fries at the Diner. “that's different” Seeley said.

Hodgins, who just happened to be with him shared a worried look. “you don't think... He would be trying to get close right? She just lost Sweets”

The two didn't try to over think it, Jack knew your stance on a new relationship. He didn't want you to be in anymore pain but he couldn't help question James reasoning, it had only been two years since Lance left.

When the bottled up feelings became too much for James he went to Booth for advice. He was pacing back and forth while also rambling, Seeley tried to keep up as he watched him pace back and forth infront of his desk.

Then it finally clicked. “Wait! Your in love with her!? And she's into you, are you sure?”

“I can't help it.. I would never push her into anything but i cant-” he started but Booth cut him off.

“No, no, no. It's just that Lance was, Lance was perfect for her. I mean, that girl's heart beat for Lance Sweets. It just, it never occurred to me that she would ever be with anyone else.”

James knew how special your relationship with Lance was to you and he respected it. If you two were ment to be he would never be jealous or mad that you'll always love Lance.

But he is human, he would feel a pit in his stomach at the thought his first with you will always be your second with him. You experienced everything that was involved with a relationship with Lance first. Sex, cuddling, having a kid, everything.

Your first reaction to your feelings for him was absolute panic and remorse. You felt you were cheating on Lance or betraying him for having feelings for another. It ate at your already broken heart and you kept it bottled up.

It would go like this, you'd sneek a glance at James, admiring his beautiful eyes and his cute little smile. Then you'd immediately start feeling bad.

Jack caught on, he knew you like the back of his hand and loved you with every fiber of his soul. One day your big brother took you to the side and asked you if you're okay. You broke down in tears and told him how awful you felt.

“buddy, your not cheating on Lance” he said softly. “he would want you to be happy... You lost Lance at such a young age and now Your experiencing something most people wouldn't after losing a spouse, your getting another chance”

You looked at him with tears in your eyes. “what if I lose him too? And I can't expect him to take care of me and my kids? My son didn't even meet Lance”

That became another fear, you were so afraid of losing him too, what if James dies on you too?

“I think you two should have a long serious talk” your brother said.

You took your brother's advance and talked to James, you talked for hours and brought of everything that was on your minds.

“just promise me you will never die on me” you said with tears in your eyes. “I promise” James nodded and slowly leaned in, you mentally panicked and moved you face so his lips landed on your cheek.

“I'm sorry.. I-” he quickly said. You looked at him saddly and pecked his cheek. “I'm just not ready for all that yet”

He nodded “when ever you are... We'll take things slow there's no rush, just know I'll always be there for you and your kids”

It's been a while since you felt so much love and it scared you, you knew you could trust him but there was still fear of losing him if you got too close.

Even if you took things slow you both loved every moment. It was the little things that mattered most, you'd go to New restaurants, watch movies, go to your kids school functions.

James didn't miss a single thing involving your kids, if your daughter had some kinda concert with her class he'd be recording the whole thing. He even got to witness your Son's first steps.

Seeley Lance or LJ has know James all his life so it wasn't a surprise he called James dad, you told him stories of his father, but he couldn't help but see James as father. Charlotte calls him Jamie, she looks up to him and all but in her mind, her daddy is in heaven.

They do have a strong bond though, the little girl loves to be a round him and feels safe with him.

they probably watched every thing episode of Bluey together.

Speaking of which, James did get you and your kids a puppy, a Beagle puppy that your daughter named Bluey.

The first time you ever said I love you was about a year into your relationship, unfortunately it was after a life threatening experience. You went on a case with Booth and you ended up being in a coma for about a week.

You thought you were dying, and this sad thing is you accepted it. While you were under you could have sworn you talked to Lance, you didn't know if it was hallucination or a ghost.

You ran to him and hugged him tight as tears filled both of your eyes. He was so happy and sad to see you, it just wasn't your time.

“our kids need you.. They can't lose both of their parents”

You held his face in your hands and kissed his lips saddly. “you didn't even get to meet your son... He's so much like you”

He smiled. “I know... And couldn't be more prouder of him and Charlotte both, but I know you three are being tooken care of”

Once again you felt a pit in your stomach when you thought about James, you will never be ashamed of falling in love with him. James put your piece back together and helped you heal, but Lance will alway be your first love.

“don't you ever feel bad for falling on love again... You remember the pain you felt when I died?” Lance asked softly, you nodded sadly. “Aubry is feeling that right now, he's so scared of losing you”

You knew he was right, but you still shook your head and cried... All you wanted to do was stay with him forever.

He smiled softly and whipped your tears away. You said 'I love you' one last time before you started to blink back to reality. You took deep breath and looked around the hospital room. Your brother Jack was fast asleep on a couch in the room, Charlotte and Seeley was piled up with him asleep as well.

James was fast asleep next you, he had a chair pulled up to your bed with his head in your lap and his hand holding your. You took your free hand and ran your fingers through his hair softly.

He jolted awake in a panic, he left out a sigh of relief when he saw you smiling softly at him. “your awake” he said with tears pricking his sleep-deprived eyes.

He leaned over and wrapped his arms around you. “I thought I lost you” you placed your hand on his jaw and pulled him towrds you kissing his lips passionately, it was so soft but held so much emotion. “I love you... So much James”

He smiled, you didn't know how long he's been waiting to hear thoughs words. He smiled from ear to ear and kissed you again. “I love you too”

You only pulled away when you hear your kid chearing your name. “mama!” they jumped from Jack's lap and ran to you, giving you a big hug.

You finally had peace and felt you could move on, your life was better knowing Lance and you are better person because of him. Now it's time to start over with a man you knew loved you just as much as Lance did.

[thiefbird]

I'd love to hear about your otps.

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer within a certain amount of time or at all.*

I don't actually tend to have OTPs - I am an inveterate multishipper in almost all things. Even the X Files I have some side ships for. But here are a list of my most enduring and beloveds <3 the ones in bold are ones I've written for(not all are on my current AO3 and I will not deliver the name of my old FF.net to anyone ever)!

Nine/Jack/Rose(NuWho)

Jack Harkness/Ianto(Torchwood)

Jack Harkness/Gwen Jones(Torchwood)

Anders/Happiness(Dragon Age)

Anders/Justice(Dragon Age)

(here's an Obscure Rarepair that I've thought way too much about) Anders/Justice/Solas(Dragon Age)

Anders/Fenris(Dragon Age)

Anders/Nathaniel Howe(Dragon Age)

Anders/Karl Thekla(Dragon Age)

Shepard/Garrus(Mass Effect)

Shepard/Thane(Mass Effect)

Shepard/Tali(Mass Effect)

Ryder/Jaal(Mass Effect)

Ryder/Vetra(Mass Effect)

Mulder/Scully(X Files)

Mulder/Krycek(X Files)

Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter(NBC's Hannibal)

Jack Aubrey/Stephen Maturin(Aubreyad)

Jack Aubrey/Sophie Aubrey(nee Williams)(Aubreyad)

Diana Villiers/Stephen Maturin(Aubreyad)

Diana Villiers/Clarissa Oakes(Aubreyad)

Stephen Maturin/James Dillon(Aubreyad)

Horatio Hornblower/William Bush(Hornblower)(TV and books)

Horatio Hornblower/Sir Edward Pellew(Hornblower)(TV only)

Horatio Hornblower/Archie Kennedy(Hornblower)(TV only)

Tenzing Tharkay/William Laurence(Temeraire)

John Granby/William Laurence(Temeraire)

Jane Roland/William Laurence(Temeraire)

(here come the crazy crossover rarepairs)

Jane Roland/Diana Villiers

Stephen Maturin/Horatio Hornblower

As you can see: crazyass multishipper. Many of these all sit in my head simultaneously in the same stories!

I guess my only real OTP is Hannigram, but thats less because I think its perfect and more because I think they should never involve anyone else in their dynamic ever for the sake of everyone else lmao

I hope surgery recovery is going well, and that you're getting back to your preferred level of Normal <3

[nonbinaryaubrey]

Gonna come up with ship names and friendship names for funsies, also, going with + means Platonic, and x obviously means romantic

Sunny x Kel x Basil, Sunrays

Specifically Headspace, Hero x Mari, Sugar Cookies

Basil x Aubrey x Sunny, Watermelon Patch

Omori x HS Kel, Jack-o-Lantern (Mostly a reference to the one you can get for Kel as his weapon, and cus Omori is a little spooky)

Sunny x Cris x Kel, Beach Tan

Omori x Stranger, Lightbulb (Probably in a, Sunny can't imagine actually dating Basil, so shoves his two little guys together to date, to imagine what it might be like, but keeps it to Stranger and Omori bcus... well, Blackspace is where repression happens, and that's where Stranger is)

Mari + Aubrey, Softball Bat

Kel + Sunny + Mari, Sunshine Smiles

Hero + Sunny, Sunny Side Up

A lot of these probably already exist, but still, was fun

OHHH A LOT OF THESE R SOOO CUTEEEEE !!WAAHH sugar cookies... watermelon patch.. sniffles cries

(sadly :(( i think the friend name for hero and sunny is the one used by proshippers iirc.. im so sorry</3)

[hotchbian]

criminal minds Q&A (Qs from @/concretemercy on twitter)

who’s your favourite character? hotch, emily and spencer are my big 3 but if i had to choose between them.. i think hotch

which season is your favourite? early seasons >>>>> but more specifically i think season 4! although 3 and 5 are close too, that whole era has some of the most interesting cases and as devastating as it is i love the focus on hotch’s home life both pre and post haley’s death

who (in your opinion) is the most underrated character? i’m not mega attached to any of the characters who filled emily’s place in the seasons she was away but i did rly like kate callahan!! i’m surprised she’s not talked about more, she’s such a cool character imo and her storyline with her niece is also underrated!

who (in your opinion) is the most overrated character? this is a hard one but i think i’d have to say rossi? there’s several reasons why i dislike him a bit compared to other characters but he just felt like quite a step down from gideon and i just feel like his personality and backstory have less substance and are less interesting compared to the others’?

who’s your favourite cast member? SOOO difficult i love them all 😭 i think thomas’s acting skills are seriously underrated, i rly don’t believe many actors can achieve the duality between hotch and david from love and human remains as successfully as thomas does,, equally i loveee paget she’s such a sweet incredible soul 🫶 also bonus: aubrey plaza one of my #1 celeb crushes 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 she plays cat so well 😫

if you could change one thing in a plot what would it be? rossi being canon racist in his youth.. but if we’re talking more major (?) plot points i think maeve’s death - everyone agrees spencer suffers by far the most trauma throughout the years and i think it would’ve been nice for maeve to have survived and for her and spencer’s relationship to have progressed further, just to add a little sprinkle of consistent joy into his life :(

your favourite canonical ship? does garvez count as canon or not.. bc it is in my mind

your favourite non-canonical ship? i’m not much of a shipper i think bc the team feels like such a found-family i cant imagine their relationships to be anything other than platonic but.. i might go niche and say elle x emily (ellily? emme? emelle? idk) bc i think if they ever met emily would have the maddest crush on her lmao (i need them to meet, pls let them meet one day 😫)

favourite episode? again crazy difficult but i have to say 100.. literally not a day goes by where i don’t think about that episode, it’s television and acting perfection (thomas being the most talented actor ever strikes again) bonus #2: seven seconds (the one where the aunt is the unsub of the girl that goes missing in the mall) is also perfection, the tension throughout it is insane, i could write essays about it

favourite quote? the scene where hotch and will are talking about a victim who was the will’s closeted co-worker and will says “icb he flew hundred of miles to be someone else” and hotch replies “no he flew hundreds of miles to be himself” 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔 hotch my little ally

why did you start watching the show? one of my school friends loved it and convinced me to watch it bc a family friend had given us her prime video log in but i only got through season 1 until i got logged out so i went two years without watching it until i subscribed to disney+ at the start of this year and picked up where i left off

have you watched criminal minds more than once? i finished my first watch-through a month ago and i went straight into rewatching it all the next day! so i’m currently at s3 on my first rewatch :)

what is the most heartbreaking scene from the show? the entirety of 100 is the obvious answer for me but also when derek faces his abuser (both times) and ofc “he was alive yesterday?”.. mgg your directing destroys me

favourite scene? too many.. any moments between hotch and jack, jj’s wedding, emily’s return from death, derek telling spencer that hank’s middle name is spencer ❤️‍🩹

when did you start watching the show? watched s1 in late 2020/early 2021, had a two year break and picked it back up in early 2023

favourite cast photo? my bffs 🤭

17. have you watched the spin offs? cm: evolution (if that counts as a spin off?) yes, the others no, i was planning on watching beyond borders but it’s not top of my watchlist priorities

18. who’s the best unsub? cat.. i feel so evil for loving her (that’s just what aubrey plaza does to me ig)

19. what was the most terrifying case? the only case i’ve been so genuinely scared of i’ve had to look away from my screen is the capilanos (the mgg directed killer clown episode), but i also love that ep bc spencer mentions a village near my hometown lmao

20. whose death was the hardest to watch? haley’s ofc and maeve’s

21. is there a character you can’t stand? when he was first introduced i didn’t like will and i was like.. why would jj like him of all ppl (i think i just found his accent and bad flirting annoying 😭) BUT i love them together now, they’re rly cute especially in s16

this took way longer than i expected 😭

[olindabell]

The Knight and the Necromancer ch. 2

chapter 2/?: The Start of the Adventure – read on ao3 or below

fandoms: bones x dungeons and dragons

pairings: seeley booth x temperance brennan, jack hodgins x angela montenegro, lance sweets x james aubrey

summary: when a cannibalised skull is thrown from a bridge in waterdeep, necromancer temperance brennan and paladin seelie booth are tasked with assembling their adventuring party and hunting down the prime suspect, the lich gormogon.

warnings: general fantasy violence, angst, slow burn, description of dead bodies.

---

‘Do you make a habit of waking people up at the crack of dawn?’ ‘I don’t have to answer that.’ Jameson Aubrezar yawned, a long, loud yawn, his orcish tusks on full display. Booth turned away, stifling his own. ‘Was that a yawn I just saw?’ ‘No.’ Booth’s jaw clenched. ‘Alright, yes, but I was working all night. You know, work? The thing we get paid to do?’

Aubrey chuckled. They were crammed into two little chairs in the foyer of Castle Waterdeep, chairs which were definitely made for rich pansies and skinny servants, not for a human and a half-orc, both in full plate and armed to the teeth, or the tusks. Booth tried to shuffle closer to the gnome sitting beside him and away from Aubrey’s strangely pointy pauldrons. Aubrey yawned, again, and this time, Booth couldn’t hold his in. Aubrey sniggered. ‘Shut up,’ Booth said, through the yawn. ‘I didn’t say anything!’ ‘Seelie Booth?’ A nasally halfling with skin like an old lemon called from across the foyer. ‘The Open Lord of Waterdeep will see you now.’ Booth sprang to his feet, Aubrey glumly trailing behind. Booth turned and said, ‘Stand up straight.’ ‘I’m tired,’ Aubrey moaned. Booth sighed. ‘Can you at least try and look like you enjoy your job?’ ‘I didn’t know when I signed up that I’d have you dragging me out of bed before dawn.’ The halfling cleared his throat pointedly, then knocked on the huge wooden doors leading to the Lord’s office. Booth made a motion like be quiet, then turned, plastered on his serious talking-to-my-boss face, and followed the halfling inside. Piergeiron Paladinson sat behind a ridiculously huge desk in a room made entirely of dark wood and glass. Behind the desk, windows overlooked the city outside, framed in thick, dark purple curtains held aside with gold cord. The left side of the room was crammed with thick historical tomes, while the right side sported two paintings, one of Piergeiron and another of a bloody battlefield, an alter to Piergeiron’s god Tyr between them. The room smelt faintly of pipe smoke and incense. The Open Lord of Waterdeep watched them enter with his sharp black eyes, his fingers steepled and elbows on the desk before him. He was draped in diplomatic clothes instead of armour, dark purple and white robes with gold trim and a red collar. Booth strode to the desk and held out his hand, and Piergeiron grasped it and shook it firmly. ‘Please, sit,’ the Lord said, gesturing to the chairs before the desk. Booth and Aubrey sat, armour squeaking. Piergeiron said, ‘So, this skull.’ ‘Bones completed a preliminary examination during the night,’ Booth said. ‘She found evidence of cannibalism, sir.’ Aubrey paled. The Lord said, ‘Is she certain of this?’ ‘I’m afraid so. Her assistant, Mage Zackryn Addlepatch, agreed with her findings.’ ‘I see.’ Piergeiron pressed his steepled fingers to his chin, his eyes fading into the distance, and fell silent. Aubrey raised his eyebrows. Booth gestured be quiet again. Aubrey rolled his eyes. Booth kicked him. It was a good kick, right under the greave, to the soft part of Aubrey’s ankle. The half-orc screwed up his nose but said nothing. ‘Well,’ Piergeiron said, ‘I was going to ask you to go to Asbravn, to help the Red Cloaks with that snake monster.’ ‘Send Flynn, he’s more than capable.’ ‘I want my best man on this, Booth.’ ‘Respectfully, sir, I believe whoever did this is a greater threat to Waterdeep than a monster miles away from here.’ Piergeiron narrowed his eyes. ‘You’ve heard the reports from Fort Morninglord.’ ‘I have, sir.’ ‘I haven’t,’ said Aubrey. Piergeiron studied Booth for a moment, then said, ‘Fine. I’ll ensure the Lords don’t get in your way, but you won’t have any official backup on this one, unless you can prove there’s a legitimate threat to Waterdeep. I take it you have a party in mind?’ ‘Yes, sir, I do.’ ‘Good luck to you then.’ Booth stood, shook Piergeiron’s hand and left the room, Aubrey scrambling behind him. ‘Now what?’ ‘Now,’ Booth said, ‘we get our people.’

#

Booth shouldered his way through the thick Waterdhavian crowds, past street vendors and loud merchants and nobles with their servants trailing behind. ‘Fort Morninglord have had undead wandering out of the Wood of Sharp Teeth for months now.’ He had to shout to be heard over the endless conversations, gull screeches and ship bells.

‘You think it’s related?’

‘Some of them had been chewed on.’

‘Oh, gross.’

‘And, two weeks ago, they sent some scouts in to have a look around. Only half came out, and they said they saw a man, seven and a half feet tall, thin as a skeleton, with grey skin, red eyes and teeth like a shark.’

‘Great.’ Aubrey closed a fist around the pommel of his sword

Booth stopped at the edge of a small circle of people watching a bard who sat on the edge of a fountain, plucking a quiet tune on his lute and reciting poetry in Elvish.

‘Sweets,’ Booth called. ‘You got a minute?’

The bard glanced at Booth but continued the poem.

‘You know what he’s saying?’ Booth asked.

‘You don’t speak Elvish?’

‘No, I speak practical languages, Common and Dwarvish. Not that flowery stuff.’

‘It’s the second-most spoken language in Faerûn.’

‘Do you speak it or not?’

Aubrey listened.

‘Mortals still worship his beauty as they watch his golden climb into the sky. But when he staggers away, old and feeble, from his highest point with weary horses, the eyes that were dutiful before, now turn away from him and look elsewhere. So, you, yourself, declining from your noonday glory, will die disregarded.’

The bard finished, bowed his head to the quiet applause, and thanked the few watchers who tossed coins into the hat by his feet. Aubrey turned his face away from Booth, hiding the rush of emotion there.

‘What was it?’ Booth asked.

Aubrey shrugged, then cleared his throat.

The bard came over, emptying the coins into his purse. He was a half-elf, his ears slightly pointed under a nest of dark curls. His face was boyish, and he carried himself with a spring in his step, an excitement contained beneath the surface.

‘Sweets, this is Aubrey, one of my men. Aubrey, Sweets is an … associate of mine.’

Sweets pointed to the medallion strung around Aubrey’s neck, a gold circle pressed with the image of a road leading into sunrise. ‘Lathander,’ he said. ‘You’re a paladin too?’

‘Cleric,’ Aubrey said.

‘It’s not important,’ Booth interrupted. ‘We’ve got a job, and I’m putting the party together. You up for an adventure?’

‘Depends how long it’ll take. There’s a flute player who keeps trying to steal my fountain.’

‘Not long,’ Booth said. ‘We’re hunting a cannibal.’

Sweets’ face fell. ‘Seriously?’

‘Are you in or not?’

To Aubrey’s surprise, Sweets looked over at him, then said, ‘Who can say no to adventure?’

‘Good man.’ Booth clapped him on the shoulder, causing his knees to buckle slightly. ‘Let’s go meet the others.’

‘Others?’ Aubrey asked.

But Booth was already striding away. Sweets patted Aubrey’s lower back and followed, leaving him to trail behind in blushing confusion.

#

‘And then, watch closely…’

Angelica leant over Jack’s shoulder, her tall tiefling frame towering over the dwarf. Jack pushed some of her long black hair out of the way, then gently opened his hand and blew across his fingertips. Tiny spores, glowing with faint blue light, rose from his skin and settled on the dead rat’s body. He muttered something in Dwarvish and made a shape resembling a triangle with his fingers, and, with a sound like pudding hitting the floor, the rat’s body bloated, collapsed, and began to disintegrate. Blue lacelike mushrooms sprouted from beneath its skin, unfurling into a network of soft, delicate fronds. ‘Cool, huh?’ Jack said.

They were in Jack’s lab, a long thin room crowded with glass cases containing glowing flowers, brightly coloured funguses, chittering insects and flowers that waved in non-existent winds. The room was bathed in the blue light of the enchanted candles dotted around the room.

Angelica nodded, masking her disgust behind a big smile. ‘Yeah, so cool. Shouldn’t we get going though?’

‘Get going where?’

Angelica sighed. ‘Lunch, Jack. You promised.’

His face moved through several emotions – confusion, scepticism, realisation, then fear. ‘Oh, shit.’

‘You forgot?’

‘The skull, and then the teeth marks.’

Angelica raised her eyebrows.

‘And Zack needed my help with–with his notes!’

‘Seriously?’

‘And Cam’s going to be here soon–’

‘You got distracted by a dead rat!’

‘It’s a new spell!’ Jack waved his hands at the mushrooms. ‘I just learnt it.’

Angelica rolled her eyes. ‘Let’s just go. Maybe we’ll have time to drink half a cup of tea.’

She turned to leave, but the lab door was blocked by a beautiful half-elf, her dark hair cut in a sharp bob, wearing a tight yellow and black dress.

‘Oh no,’ said Angelica.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Camille. ‘Duty calls.’

#

The sun was high in the clear spring sky; light poured through the glass ceiling into the lab. Temperance stood on the platform, the skull mounted on a stand, frowning at a set of white glyphs hovering in the air before her. Zack perched on his stool by her side. She ran her fingers softly over the surface of the skull, feeling the barely perceptible grooves left by the cannibal’s teeth. She knew what the results meant – the glyphs were incapable of lying – but they yielded no motives, no suspects, no leads, only pure facts. She closed her eyes, searching for something, anything, that would tell her more about this man and how he died.

‘Mage Brenwynn?’ Zack said.

Temperance said nothing.

‘Mage Brenwynn, they’re here.’

‘Who’s here?’ she muttered.

‘Bones!’ Booth yelled from across the lab. ‘Found anything?’

She jumped out of her reverie and turned to see a crowd of people hovering at the edge of the platform steps. Grimjack Hodgemoss, the dwarf druid, bearded and stocky and surrounded by a cloud of mushroom spores, and Angelica, the tiefling bard and resident artist, her skin the colour of bronze and her horns as jet black as her hair. Camille Saeroyan, the half-elf sorcerer who ran the Waterdhavian Mage’s Institute, stood to the side in one of her smart dresses, her posture perfect as always. Another half-elf with a lute strapped to his back – Lancelot Sweetwater, a bard and one of Booth’s crime-solving consultants – lounged with his hands in his pockets next to a tall but thin half-orc wearing the blue cloak of a City Watchman – Jameson Aubrezar, only recently recruited to Booth’s team of associates. And Booth, at the front of them all, grinning and puffing out his polished gold chest plate.

Camille stepped over the wards and muttered the enchantment that permitted access to outsiders. ‘Don’t touch the remains,’ Bones said to Booth.

‘Why’re you singling me out?’

‘You’re impulsive.’ She pulled off her gloves and waved at the glyphs in the air, which drifted to the side of the platform.

‘So,’ Booth said, ‘did you find anything?’

‘Yes, actually.’ She pointed to the glyphs.

‘Come on,’ Booth sighed. ‘We both know I can’t read that.’

‘I used an enchantment that highlights markings, one that Angelica invented to restore degraded artworks,’ Bones said. ‘I took a magical mould of the teeth marks.’

She took a sprig of sage from her component pouch, scrunched it in her fist, and drew a square in the air with her thumb. A white screen appeared and hovered over the obsidian slab. Bones waved the glyphs over to the screen, where they dissolved into two images, side-by-side comparisons of enlarged teeth marks.

‘Oh, that is not good,’ said Camille.

‘Someone explain, in Common, if you don’t mind,’ Booth said.

‘This skull was gnawed on by two different people,’ Bones said. ‘This cannibal,’ she pointed to the teeth on the left, ‘has some kind of implant in one of his canines. The other has … unique dentition.’

‘Unique?’

She hesitated. ‘It seems that the second cannibal has a full set of canines.’

‘Teeth like a shark,’ Booth murmured.

‘You have a lead?’ Camille asked.

Booth sighed. ‘More of a hunch that Bones just confirmed.’ He turned to face the party. ‘I know everyone has work to do here, but I’m taking this case, and I’m not getting any help from the Lords or the City Watch because some lizard monster is more important. I get to choose my people, and I choose everyone here.’

‘Are we going on an adventure?’ Jack asked, nearly bouncing on the soles of his feet. Angelica rolled her eyes.

‘It shouldn’t take longer than two months,’ Booth said.

‘Two months?’ Sweets cried. ‘But my fountain!’

‘I’m in,’ said Aubrey.

‘Me too,’ said Jack.

‘If he’s going, then I’m going too,’ said Angelica.

‘Same here,’ sighed Sweets.

‘I would like to go on an adventure,’ said Zack. ‘Even though my strengths are not physical.’

‘If all my best mages are going, then I guess I’m coming with,’ said Camille.

Everyone turned to stare at Bones.

‘What about the lab?’ she said.

‘The lab will still be here when you get back, sweetie,’ said Angelica.

‘And we’ve all got enough adventure leave,’ said Camille.

‘And we can’t do this without you,’ said Booth.

Bones took a deep breath. ‘No, you most certainly cannot.’

#

Booth knocked on the door to Bones’ office, his gauntlet harsh against the wood. ‘Come in,’ she called, in her lilting elven voice. Booth ignored the familiar skip of his heart at the sound.

She was crouched in front of a bookcase, pulling out stacks of leather-bound tomes stamped with runes and held shut by buckles stained with verdigris and rust. ‘I have a question,’ she said.

‘Shoot.’

‘No, I don’t want to shoot you.’

‘It means ask, Bones, just ask me the question.’

‘Oh.’ She stood and faced him. A white lace-up shirt was just visible under the black leather coat worn by all necromancers at the Institute, the collar sticking up lopsided. Booth had a sudden urge to reach under her coat and pull the shirt down–

‘The other cannibal, the one with the tooth implant.’

‘What?’ Booth flushed, then said, ‘Oh, that guy. What about him?’

‘He’s here in Waterdeep, isn’t he?’

‘He’s probably long gone by now. Why?’

Bones picked a sheet of parchment off her desk. ‘While you were preparing to leave, Jack swabbed the groove made by the implant and ran it through a series of ritual spells. The implant is a diamond. Were there any witnesses at the bridge?’

‘Two. They both described a half-elf with brown hair, maybe in his twenties.’

‘Combined with the diamond implant, that might be enough for Angelica to cast locate creature on him.’

‘As long as he’s close by.’

‘Yes. But you think he’s left the city.’

‘Anything’s worth a try.’ Booth nudged the stack of tomes with his boot. ‘What’re these for?’

‘I’m bringing them.’

Booth gaped. ‘All of them?’

‘Of course. You said we could be gone for two months, I need reading material.’

‘Surely you can find books on the road, in libraries or something.’

‘These books are the most detailed accounts of spellcraft in all of Faerûn, there are no books like them.’

‘But you’ve read them before!’

‘Books are very important to me, Booth. I’m bringing them.’

‘You can bring two.’

She shot him a glare. ‘Five.’

‘Three, and that’s all we’ve got room for. You’ll tire the horses out within the first mile.’

She continued to glare, then relented. ‘Fine, but only because you asked.’

Booth blinked. ‘What does that mean?’

She simply dropped three massive tomes into his arms. ‘Those can go out to the wagon. I have to finish packing. I’ll see you in the morning.’

As he staggered out of the lab and round the back to the stables, weighed down by the books, Booth’s mind ran circles around what Bones had said. Where was the emphasis, on the ‘you’ or the ‘asked’? I didn’t even ask, I negotiated. Does she think of me … like that? Does she think of me at all?

But when he reached the horses, he banished those thoughts from his mind. ‘Adventures are dangerous,’ he said to himself. ‘There’s no room for distractions.’

One of the horses whinnied.

‘Exactly, Muffins.’ He let the books thud into the wagon, then left Bones to her packing.