#sure you can agree with some of their takes

[lucysarah-c]

Why do I feel like Levi would use you as an excuse for anything?

"Captain Levi, could you stay behind to watch the cadet—"

"No, my wife caught a cold. I want to be there for her."

First, he always calls you "wife" because, to him, it doesn't matter if you two aren't officially married yet or if you're saving money to get married. You're his wife. This man was devoted to you the second you agreed to go on a date with him. Second, you don't have a cold… you simply sneezed a couple of times that morning.

"Levi, could you stay for the following meeting—"

"No, Y/N is waiting for me back in my chambers, and it's already too late," Levi replied, picking up his stuff from the meeting office's table and interrupting Erwin.

"I'm sure Y/N will understand," Erwin tried to reason, but it seemed like Levi had already stepped outside of the meeting.

"What can I say, Erwin? I'm a good husband. You make your work a priority, and you lose your girl."

"Did you finish that report—"

"I was going to stay up all night, but Y/N insisted I go to bed."

But most importantly, Levi would use you to escape ANY social event that his antisocial soul could.

"Captain! Are you staying for the after-party?" Zackly asked, almost dragging him upstairs.

"No. I'm a taken man, and everyone knows what goes on at those after-parties," Levi groaned, taking off the friendly arm around his shoulder. "I'm going home. I'm going home to my wife."

"I'm sure Y/N will understand. Good wives do."

"You don't know my wife."

While most of the time, you're just a very calm, accepting partner. Levi's life as a captain is already hard, and you don't like to add demands to it. But somehow, he's always early from any event Erwin dragged him to, coming back to be in your arms, to fall asleep as you play with his hair, and finally be able to catch some rest. You don't mind it… but you have to admit it caught you off guard when a higher-up asked you to give Levi some freedom.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out.

Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee

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[kenntolog]

hihi!!

i saw ur inbox was open so could i request drunk loser gf and cool bf sukuna taking care of her? maybe them going to a party together to get her out of her shell a little? ofc it doesnt have to be that, whatever u think is good!! thanks!

𝝑𝝔 an: hey hey!! i hope u like this!! i started kinda feeling insecure about my writings ngl, i have no idea why :(( ignore any typos or grammar errors, ill edit a little later.

read more here!!

cool boyfriend sukuna is so sure that his loser girlfriend won’t even try to get drunk at the party at his teammates house, it’s actually kind of funny, because that is, in fact, true.

somehow the cups of water you are getting from the kitchen taste a little bit stronger and you ask a random girl for something more sweet and, well, drinkable for you. a not so trustworthy looking pinkish mix is then shoved into your hand and when you take a sip of it, it actually doesn’t feel that bad so you just continue.

all that whilst you’re roaming around free of sukuna, since he wanted to have some fun with the boys and you didn’t want to hold him back. sukuna himself would never think of you that way, but he still lets you be so you can get out of your comfort zone a little, without his constant support. you kind of agreed with him on that, feeling a bit embarrassed.

so of course it’s a surprise for sukuna when about an hour later geto tugs him away with a concerned look in his purple eyes, saying it’s about you and how he ‘needs to see this’. he is not drunk, since he has to drive you both home, not even that tipsy, he just had a few cups of beer and maybe a shot, so he is able to function properly. and he gets a little worried.

and then he finally recognises your face in the room, body stilling in shock as he watches you.

on top of a small table with some other girl, your arms around her waist and hers around your neck as you both sway, jump and push into each other seductively, dancing to the beat of a catchy, well-known song.

he can’t take his eyes off of you. although a little clumsy and untrained, compared to the girl’s movements, yours still make him and seemingly other people somehow hypnotised.

sukuna must admit, he is mesmerised too because you’re his pretty loser girlfriend, you know? you don’t ever do stuff like this, you were even reluctant to go to this party since it’s not your cup of tea. how come you’re so different when you’re under the influence of alcohol? he has no idea.

it doesn’t take long for you to notice him and clumsily jump down from the table right into his arms. smiling wide and bright at him with sparkly eyes as you hang off of him, letting him tug you around and just giggling into his chest while he gets a little frustrated with you because your limbs seem to be very cooperative when you’re drunk.

only your arms seem to be permanently glued around his neck, your lips pecking the sensitive skin, which kind of bothers him. that slight rasp in your honey-sweet voice, the dazed look in your eyes, your loud breathing — it makes him want to devour you…

he still has to get you home, though, so he promises himself to get back at you later.

the ride to your place is surprisingly silent. it seems like you’ve finally spent all of your energy and chose to curl on his passenger seat, looking out of the window while one of your hands held tightly onto his.

getting you out of clothes is one of the harder trials it seems; you are stronger than you look like, sukuna realises that when you pull him onto yourself while laying on the bed as soon as he finishes changing your clothes. legs wrapping around his waist along with your arms around his neck, you let him smother you into the sheets while he curses you quietly and responds to your affections with small kisses of his own. sukuna can’t resist you, ever.

washing your makeup off is a relatively easy task, yet brushing your teeth is a whole other level. sukuna wouldn’t bother if it was for himself, yet he does it for you since you’d hate to sleep with your mouth still dirty.

but you make it so hard!! hugging him close to yourself, he can barely push you away because you’re stuck as if permanently glued so he opts on cupping your jaw to move your head slightly to be able to put the brush in your mouth. you whine at the sudden intrusion, brows pinching in the middle as you try to pull away.

“‘kuna~”

“stop acting like a baby,” he rolls his eyes with a ‘tsk’ and shakes you a little.

bad idea. tears spring out of eyes as they scrunch and your still foamy mouth parts slightly in a childish cry. oh he hates to see you cry.

sukuna kisses your forehead gently as he puts away the toothbrush, “shh, sorry, ‘m sorry, baby,” he gently pats your back, urging you to spit out the remains of toothpaste, “c’mon.”

you do as he says, giving him a pouty look, and continue clinging onto him. sukuna shakes his head and offers you his hand, to which you immediately hug his whole arm and let him lead you to bed.

clinging onto him like a baby, truly living up to your nickname, you lay on top of him, clean and satisfied while sukuna slowly rubs your back. tiredness and exhaustion get the best of him, so he is unable to fully catch on to your lovely monologue filled with your honest words that accentuate your love for him, however the last thing he hears is ‘love you, ‘kuna, you’re the best’ and it’s enough to bring a pleased smile on his face.

[catch1ngmoths]

ONE NIGHT STAND WITH JOOST🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

-ˋˏ ༻ only stay with you one more night༺ ˎˊ-

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋"so I cross my heart and I hope to die…that I’ll only stay with you one more night." - maroon 5𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

Summary: Joost sees you at a party and immediately becomes head over heels. While alone he approaches you, things escalate, but maybe you both wanted to stay…

Note: I POSTED MY LAST POST LIKE 10 MINUTES AGO AND I ALREADY HAVE TWO REQUESTS, yall always come in clutch istg??! Anyways love yall, part two maaaaybe..?

Warnings: Slight fluff, SMUT!! Maybe some angst near the end (?)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

You didn’t wanna go to this party, you knew you didn’t. You’d much rather stay home but after minutes of begging from your friends you groan and agree. Your friends clap excitedly and drag you to help with your makeup. You can’t lie, they did a pretty good job…you looked hot. You decided to put on your favorite dress becuase fuck it, why not. It didn’t look like you were trying too hard but it’s also not elegant and super fancy. It was perfect.

Soon after you all arrived your friends dragged you to get drinks, squealing and dancing as you stood back. You preferred people watching over dancing, you were the mom friend and looked over your friends. Especially since they didn’t seem to aware of their surroundings. As you were stood there you couldn’t shake the feeling of someone’s eyes on you.

You look up and see him, a blond guy with a rocker style and piercing blue eyes. As you lock eyes he turns away, acting as if he didn’t pay any mind to you in the first place. You keep your eyes on him for a little, looking over him. He was cute, very cute. More than cute…he had a certain energy about him. You could normally tell which guys were trouble and which weren’t but he was so different. He had an energy that pulled you in and intoxicated your senses.

Your racing thoughts were cut off by the sound of your friend calling your name, calling you to the dance floor. You rolled your eyes playfully with a smile on your lips as you join your friends. Body swaying with theirs.

It didn’t take long for your friends to be absolutely wasted while you didn’t have any more then one drink. You called Ubers for all of them to make sure they got home safe and once you knew they were all good you leaned against the wall outside the club and took a breath of fresh air.

You started thinking of anything you wanted, finally having a time of peace. Before you heard a shuffling behind you. You turn your head to see the guy from before, cigarette between his lips and leaning on the same wall you were. A surprising comfortable silence settled between the both of you before it was broken by a low voice.

“Never seen you here before..” he speaks, a clear accent spilling from his lips. “Eh…I don’t come here often, I just got dragged here by my friends.” You say with a slight chuckle, looking at his side profile in awe. He really was the definition of beauty. His head stays still but his eyes look to you before returning at their original position.

He chuckles and it sends a shiver through your body, “got a staring problem or somthing, hm?” He says blowing the smoke from his cigarette into the air before tossing it to the side and stomping on it. His body turning to face you, “couldn’t keep my eyes off you lieverd, your one pretty girl you know that eh?” He smiled

His smile was so infectious that you found yourself smiling as well, “I could say the same for you…uh…” you say, realizing you don’t know his name. He catches on and utters, “Joost. And you.?” He says as you look at him with doe eyes that almost bring him to his knees

“Y/n…” you say softly feeling affected by him being so close, “y/n huh? Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He says with a cocky smirk, shuffling closer to you. You both weren’t drunk but it was clear you’d both had some drinks, giving you both liquid courage. Your heads face each other, eyes locked and lips close. Before both of you can even think you both rush forward into a heated kiss.

It’s breathy, grabbing at each other desperately as he pushing his weight against you holding your chin with one hand. “Mine” kiss “m-mine or-“ kiss “mine or yours liefje..?” He mutters between heated kisses, “m-mine..” you whine, feeling better about it being at your house over his.

After a Uber ride filed with sexual tension and heavy air you both burst through the front door, unable to keep y’all’s hands off each other. You lead him to your room, practically pulling each others clothes off like wild animals.

He lays you back on your bed gently and kisses from your neck down to your now exposed chest, you were both only covered by y’all’s underwear. He clips off your bra, showing love to both breasts as you run your hands through his hair moaning out. He kisses down your soft stomach untill he reaches where you needed him the most.

“J-Joost..please..” you whine out, squirming under his hot breath and teasing touch. A harsh slap to your thigh makes you throw your head back and whimper tears brimming in your eyes. He peppers soft kisses to where a pink hand mark was starting to form with a snicker.

He pulls off his boxers and pulls your underwear down as well. He kisses back up your body, pressing soft and loving kisses to your swollen lips. “Ready honey?” He asks softly, eyes looking at you with nothing but affection. You can only nod frantically making him chuckle.

He slowly slides into you with a groan, both of you throwing y’all’s heads back. He thrusts harshly into you, making your brain short circuit. His kisses to your body are the polar opposite to how his dick abuses your cunt making you see stars as you moan out his name.

A few minutes of sweet pleasure makes you whine as you grasp his hand tight, half lidded eyes looking into his. “J-Joost I-I’m…” you whimper as his dick hits just the right spot, knocking the words out of you. “Go on baby…fuck..go on” he groans as he lowers his head to kiss your head.

You both let go and ride out your high together, him letting out sweet words of praise as you let out soft moans and whimpers. He lifts his head to look at you with adoration, kissing your soft lips once more before going and getting a cloth to clean you both up.

The last you remember is snuggling up to his side and falling asleep listening to the sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of soft fingers stroking your back gently…..

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Your eyes open to the sound of the morning birds and the blinding light shining in through your window. You don’t feel warm anymore; no longer in his arms and alas alone in your bed. You lift your body out your bed, looking around for him.

Of course you knew this was a one night stand, both of you did. You knew it the moment his lips connected with yours. But some part of you wanted him to stay..the way he looked at you was not the way someone looked at another person they just wanted to fuck and be done with.

Little did you know, he felt the exact same. He woke up to the safe and comforting feeling of the weight of your head on his chest, but he knew he couldn’t stay. His mind felt plagued as he picked up his clothes that were scattered across your floor. He softly kissed your head before fighting all his instincts and closing your door, ordering an Uber home.

He hoped if he just left that he’d forget about you soon enough…

He didn’t.

Part two: https://www.tumblr.com/catch1ngmoths/751209894218170368/%F0%93%87%BC-time-after-time-%F0%93%8D%A2-if-your-lost-you

[houseofevanbuckley]

You know what I crave right now?

Tommy who was hurt on the job. Nothing really bad but it would mean some time off work.

But he’s so used to being alone, to deal with it himself at home that he doesn’t even call Buck.

Not even as a conscious decision but just *well I’m a big guy I can do it alone. And why would Evan even want to know about it?* way

And so he goes home after getting an early release from the hospital because no firefighters are good patients

And he goes home alone, as usual.

He takes care of his injury like he’s used to.

He cancels a date with Buck

And that’s where I’m not sure what I prefer

Tommy offhandedly saying “sorry I have to cancel, got some injuries yesterday and I can’t really use my arm”

Or Buck hearing it through the firefighter grapevine

But Buck learns about it all the same and barges into Tommy’s house, worried and angry

Fussing over Tommy while berating him for not calling him yesterday, fucking yesterday! “You were hurt for a full day and you didn’t tell me? What the fuck Tommy?”

And Tommy just confused going “oh, I didn’t think you’d care”

Not in a malicious way at all, just genuine and Buck sees the confusion in Tommy’s eyes and it breaks his heart

Seeing his boyfriend not expecting people to care if he’s hurt, not asking for help even tho Buck can see that, he’s only wearing half a tee shirt because he couldn’t pull it through his cast and so only one arm is inside and it just cover half his chest, like a toddler who got distracted while dressing himself; he needs help and his injury makes it harder for daily tasks

Buck end up being the one to tear up and hugging Tommy as hard as he can trying not to hurt him any more and just spending the evening fussing over him, and telling him how he matters to him, how he wants to know when something happens and be there

And Tommy agrees easily, but Buck can still see the confusion in his eyes like he doesn’t get why Buck is so worried about him but he’ll do as Buck demands

Buck swears he’ll show Tommy that he deserves to have people get worried over him, to take care of him

[honeipie]

THE MOMENT

izuku x fem!reader

synopsis: izuku is asked the exact moment that he fell in love with his wife, and he knows exactly when

authors note: why do i keep writing about podcasts all of a sudden lmaoooo 😭 also i proofread this when i was tired asf so if it’s bad sorryyyy

“it’s really nice to have you here mr. midoryia! thank you for agreeing to join us on our podcast. we know how busy you are saving the country, so it’s nice to see you in a different light” the man flashed him a smile, which izuku was happy to return.

“yeah of course! i figured i should see why everyone is telling me that this podcast is so great” izuku crossed one of his legs over the other. his pr team thought it’d be a good idea to branch out from the regular news interviews and talk shows, so they had scheduled him a podcast episode on the number one podcast in japan.

“so having the number one hero with us is of course a prime opportunity to pick your brain. all about your hero work, who your role models were throughout the years, and maybe let us look behind the big deku label and just let us get to know midoryia izuku if you allow”

izuku nodded with his picture perfect smile “i’d like that. most people don’t respect that i’m an actual person and not just some figure with no feelings, so i really appreciate that”

the host nodded looking down at his phone “so first we wanted to give you a big congratulations! you are your wife are celebrating your second year of marriage. that must be nice”

“yes we did! thank you from both of us really. i took some time off and we had a really, really nice vacation together. it was nice to be away from all the eyes for a while”

“of course! i know it can probably get hard with all the fans that you have. everybody wanting an autograph, kids lining up to meet you, both women and men alike wanting a chance with you even though you’re clearly married. how do you deal with that in your relationship?”

“a lot of communication, like, a lot” izuku nodded his head slowly just to make his point “we set boundaries to make sure we’re comfortable with everything that happens. like one thing she’s not very comfortable with is fans kissing me on the cheek, and i totally respect that! the first time it happened we did have a bit of falling out but we communicated and got through it”

the host nodded his head listening along “he’s not just good at saving the world folks! he’s also a relationship pro”

this made both of them laugh easing away any underlying tensions that were there before.

“staying on the topic of your relationship we have a question. every week we ask people what questions to ask to our guests when they come onto the show, and the most asked question was this. what was the exact moment that you fell in love with your wife? i mean she must’ve done something to make you look at her the way you do”

“hearty question,” he joked rubbing his hand against his chin “but i’m pretty sure i know when. it was back in UA, third year. it was our last big event before we graduated and i was struggling to get ready”

he could imagine it like it happened yesterday. third year izuku midoryia stood looking at himself in the mirror with an annoyed look on his face. it had been three years and he still hadn’t learned how to tie his damned tie. the lump of a tie sat dead center on his chest staring right back at him, taunting him.

it’s not like he didn’t try to learn. he had kacchan try to teach him. that didn’t end well. he had his mom try too, and he ended up getting his hands tangled. and youtube? forget it.

he silently cursed to himself taking off the tie once more. there were three soft knocked at his door, which at this point, annoyed him further.

“kacchan i said i’d be right out! could you at least wait five minutes before coming back?”

“izuku? it’s me” your voice alone made his shoulders ease. he came over to the door shaking his head.

“i’m sorry y/n. i thought you were kacchan-“ when he finally got a good look at you all of his words caught in his throat. you were wearing a sage green dress that went down to your ankles. he wasn’t complaining though because on the left there was a slit where he got a good view of your legs “but you are definitely not him”

you walked past izuku white heels clicking against the floor “i sure hope not. i don’t think he can pull of this dress like i can” izuku shut the door softly then made a beeline over to you. as soon as you turned around you noticed he was leaning down to kiss you “woah there pretty boy,” you held up a single finger blocking his lips “attitude check first, kisses later. what’s the matter?”

he sighed when you rejected his advances “i don’t have an attitude-“

he stopped when you made your ‘don’t lie to me face’

“fine,” he stood in the mirror and watched as you stood next to him. you looked stunning. the way you wore the dress like it was perfectly crafted for you had him staring long and hard. it made him feel like a doofus beside you with his slightly messy hair and chunky tie.

“i can’t get my tie right”

you snorted turning him towards you “you’re acting like that’s new news” he rolled his eyes at your comment pulling away from your hands “no! baby i’m sorry i didn’t mean it” your hands gently grabbed his wrists pulling him back “i’ll do it for you”

his eyebrows scrunched together as you started slipping off his tie “you know how to tie ties? how? why? when?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his confused state going to wrap the tie around his neck again straightening it out “my grandma taught me. she said that i need to learn if it i ever find that special man in my life. i didn’t really believe her because who the hell would i be tying a tie for?”

he watched carefully as you flipped the tie around with ease. folding it this way, then slipping it through one of the openings. he also watched your face. concentrated on the task at hand. his heart was racing by the time you slide the perfect knot up to his neck. tilting your head you nodded.

“but i’m glad she did y’know,” you grabbed the middle of his tie pulling him in for a kiss. he wrapped one of his arms around your waist and the other hand went securely on your back. when you pulled away there was a stupid grin on your face “cause there’s no one else i would want to do this for”

it was like he was getting hit by a truck of nostalgia. all the feelings he felt in that moment came rushing back to him. the swoop of his stomach when you pulled him into the kiss. the alarms blaring in his head from the new sensation.

he. was. in. love.

the kind of love people look for in movies, books, shows. he found that in you.

he sighed into the kiss going to move you against the wall. you had your hands on his waist trying to steady yourself. when he pulled away your face was flushed from his sudden actions. which he made sure not to mention in the podcast.

“well maybe i should do your ties more often”

“yeah.. you should”

izuku snapped out of the memory finally placing himself back into reality “that’s how i remember it. i don’t know if my wife remembers differently” he shrugged with a smile on his face.

“wow, that is straight out of a romance book. so does she still tie your ties today?”

izuku nodded “oh yeah, i don’t trust anyone else to do it. even on our wedding day i forced her to tie it. she was all worried about me seeing her before the wedding so i covered my eyes”

you stood there in your white dress trying not to laugh at your 6 foot husband covering his face like a child playing hide and seek “you really want me to do this?”

“please honey”

“only since you asked so nicely, but no peeking!” walking over you went to put his tie on like you did every other time. when you finished you gave his chest a pat “there you go champ”

“y/n.. you didn’t give me a kiss”

“what?”

he let out a childlike sigh “every time you do my tie you pull me in for a kiss. that’s how this works”

now you laughed.

“izu we can’t kiss before we have the wedding. it’s not the way it goes”

“i won’t tell anyone!”

after a couple moments of silence he could feel a tug on his tie as you drew him close. it was a quick kiss, but just enough to get him through.

the host nodded along a bit jealous that his love life wasn't as magical.

"if only we could all be like you and your wife deku”

“i get that a lot. my wife’s pretty great”

taglist! @sagejin 🫶🏾

comment if you’d like to be added

[wh1msic4alwasab1]

𝙒𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝘼𝙪𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚°ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

synopsis: being a cam couple w/ aventurine

tags: vulgar, explicit, exhibitionism, creampie, nipple play, handjob

wrd cnt: 1.5k

a/n: rewrite from first acc!

Your boyfriend Aventurune is well, tight on money, all the time... but! This leaves room for a lot or creative ways for him to obtain income, somehow he always makes it work, this time he's eager to involve you as well.

You're just sitting on the couch one night, finishing up some work while waiting for your love to come back home.

You hear the keys in the front door jingle, "Y/n? I have a surprise for you honey!" you hear, curiously you walk over to the kitchen table where he has two sparkly bags waiting for you.

"What's this?" You ask, happy to open them up and take a look inside.

Aventurine takes out your presents, and well...your jaw drops at the sight of the softest material, silky and lace lingerie in a dark red hue, with ribbons at the chest and bottom.

"What do you think?", he says, a smirk on his face as he hands you the garment.

You thank him excitedly, before he pulls out a matching collar and vibrator, along with his and hers masquerade masks. "Aven...you really want to get lucky tonight huh- how did you afford all this?”

He chuckles, "About that, before I tell you, this gift is for you with no strings, but.."

"But?"

"I wanted to ask a favor from you."

You were a little scared, as you thought your boyfriend wanted to prostitute you for a minute, he sits you down and explains his new job idea: being a cam couple.

At first you're shocked at what he just asked you, not exactly opposed. He explains in more depth how everything would work, and said you both didn't have to reveal your faces, as viewers aren't necessarily very interested in that; hence the masks.

You agree, as there doesn't seem to be many downsides.

That night, you make arrangements and get everything situated. You go to the bathroom and change, meeting him in your bedroom, missing his shirt. He turns around in his chair and his eyes meet yours, he watches you get closer to him as his lips create the most sinful smile.

He whistles, "Oh my…aren’t you absolutely stunning." Your cheeks get red, you've never worn something so risqué and your stomach is full of butterflies as the reality of this situation hits you.

Aventurine signals you to him, placing you on his thigh, and drapping your legs over the armrests of the desk chair.

"Everything is ready baby, are you sure this is what you want? We can stop at any time, just say the word okay?" He reassures you, giving you the say to click the "go live" button.

You both put your masks on and click the button together.

Almost instantly, there's already a couple viewers.

Aven and you laugh, surprised just a little. His hands begins to move up and down your legs, opening them up and sitting you down in between him, with each leg raised up on the arm rest. You feel so bare, your legs open and spread in front of the camera as your back is against his warm chest.

"Look how pretty you are, y/n". He whispers in your ears, before reaching for the vibrator on the desk. He turns it onto the lower setting and slowly rubs it through the silk protecting your most sensitive area. You cup his face with your hand, tilting his head behind you down to meet his lips, and then his tongue. His other hand holds your neck, slightly squeezing it and toying witn your collar. Slowly, it trails down to your breast, his fingers pull at the ribbon and pull it. The top of your lingerie falls instantly and your tits are exposed as he squeezes them, rubbing and pinching your nipples as his tongue trials down to your neck as you quietly moan.

Only about 5 minutes pass, and you hear a ring from the screen, *Anonymous sent $10*

He opens his eyes to see the screen, not stopping his assault on your neck, only turning the vibrator up, causing your legs to twitch slightly as his hands are now on your waist, feeling your skin against his palm.

His fingers finds the silk that's keeping a barrier between you and the vibrator. He pulls the other ribbon, and opens it up as your legs are wide open front of the camera, hiding nothing.

His fingers open your folds, "Welcome audience, look at how pretty my loves pussy is, isn't she just so beautiful?” Aven says proudly, pushing his fingers inside your sopping cunt and focusing the vibrator onto your clit.

You moan quite loudly, and cover your mouth with your hand. Itto then says to you, and to the camera, "Don't do that, let them hear how fucking good you feel."

He turns the vibrator up to its highest setting, watching you squirm so intensely, as you clench around his fingers, hitting your sweet spot.

The tips keep rolling in, as people express their thoughts in the comments. Most of them very vulgar of course, which turned you on even more.

"Look at that baby, they love you." He says, while you weakly grip his hand which holds the vibrator against you, moaning for him breathlessly before you releast all over his fingers.

"Just like that sweetheart, cum for me." Your breathing slowly calms down as your head is now resting on his shoulder. Your boyfriend removes the toy from your sore clit, and his fingers pull out of you, bringing them to his mouth and licking your cum off, before kissing you.

When he asks you if you'd like to continue, your hand lands on his hard cock, rubbing it through his pants.

"Yes please" You say, wanting more of him.

Almost 300 people were viewing the live, and it felt so hot to show people how good your lover made you feel.

Aventurine smiles, gripping your neck and making you kiss him while he raised you up slightly off his lap by your waist, as you unbuckled his belt, he sat you back down as he pulled his pants down, his cook springing up and lightly hitting your folds.

As you got more comfortable, you rub your palm on your own wet pussy, then taking his cock in your hand and stroking it, slapping it on you a few times and rubbing his tip on your swollen clit.

Aventurine is quite a vocal lover, and he definitely didn't hold back for the camera. Groaning as you play with yourself and his hard member. He breathes heavily against your back as his hands twist your hard nipples, and grip your thighs that are again propped up on the sides of the chair.

"Fuck baby, I need you, please, ride me." He pleaded, his grip on your thighs getting harder as his cock yearns for your little cunt.

"Should I?" You ask, almost catching him off guard to the fact people were watching you, as he got distracted by how turned on he was.

"How about $50 and I take all of him? Hm?" You say, offering to whoever may be willing.

He only smiles at you, a sort of proud feeling hits him as he laughs at how you're making money off his yearning.

Not even 20 seconds after, you see:

*Anonymous sent $100"

"Wow, seems like you better give me the night of my life, y/n." He smirks, pushing his cock inside you before you get the chance.

A sultry and intense moan escapes your lips, his cock feels so big inside your pussy, you almost see stars. One of his hands hold yours while the other is on your knee. You balance yourself with a hand on his thigh, and start to bounce yourself up and down his dick, as the audience watch you struggle to take his length yet taking it entirely, down to the base.

"Fuck...baby- feels so good..." You can barely hold yourself up, his cock making you so weak.

Your boyfriend watches the large screen, staring at how your pussy swallows him, "You take me so well c’mon, you can do it-show them what a good girl you are." He coos, seeing your slick cover his entire cock, feeling your cunt wrap around him.

You're both moaning messes, and you can feel yourself coming so close to release. So is Aventurine, as he takes both his hands and holds your waist,

"Come here, let me show everyone how sexy you sound when I cum inside you, princess."

Your face is burning hot, and you feel like you're going to burst any second.

Aventurine slams you down on his throbbing cock, pushing himself up as well. Shortly after; you feel thick cum bursting inside you, as Aven groans in shaking breathes, his hands clenching the bottom of your thighs.

You look at the sight on the computer screen, Yours and his cum, mixed up in your cunt spilling out of you; dripping down your hole and onto his balls, then the seat you're both on. Your legs slowly release from his grip, as he pulls your collar to make you face him, as his tongue meets yours in a soft and sweet last kiss.

"Well everyone, I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did." Aventurine says, before turning off the stream.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[joonieskinks]

dbf!Simon Riley who has always kinda just been around. Your father and him have been good friends for years, always coming over and hanging with the family, no one minds. You’ve always been comfortable with him, interested in his company and found him attractive of course.

dbf!Simon Riley who can’t help but start to notice you more so as you’ve gotten older and become of age. Well, he always thought you were endearing and a sweet girl, never in a creepy way- but now that you’ve developed into a 20 something, he sees you in a new light. You’re the same way but with him too. Sure, you’ve had your little fantasies about the older man, but now as a grown woman you were determined to be seen different, and now to act on them.

dbf!Simon Riley who agreed to come over on his motorcycle one summer day and help your dad with his truck. Only, your father had to run and aid with work, asking you to help Simon with whatever he may need. Leaving the two of you alone together, a hot, sweaty Simon shirtless before you and yourself in a little sundress. Truly intentional on both sides.

dbf!Simon Riley who comes into the living room to ask for some water, just in his jeans. The sight makes you shift in your seat on the couch, twisting your legs together to help alleviate the ache between them. Fuck, he looks so good. You wonder how he’s never been married in all these years, cause certainly you can’t have been the only interested party.

dbf!Simon Riley who watches as you writhe on the couch, trying desperately as to not gawp at him. Yet he makes an effort to let you know he’s very much interested. You’re alone together, you two know each other well enough, you’re hot, he’s hot - why not? He’s wanted you for longer than he would care to admit. He just needs you to make the first move over him. Especially with your dad, him not wanting to be creepy and all... but Simon very much wants you.

dbf!Simon Riley who never breaks his gaze on you, watching as your eyes darted everywhere to the floor to his defined arms, to the door to his pants. It makes him smirk at how coy you're being with him, but he's not a patient man today.

dbf!Simon Riley who approaches you from across the room, your eyes shooting up to meet his. They widen as he kneels before you, his toned stomach just pressing against your knees, as if he's asking to be let in. You're embarrassed as you slowly spread them for him, a clear wet spot outlined on your panties. But Simon can only cuss under his breath at the sight, fuck- just for him? He feels like a lucky man indeed. He leans in closer to you, hovering just above your lips, daring you to please make this a reality. Finally, the man you've dreamed of after all this years, he wants you too. So how could you be expected to resist?

dbf!Simon Riley who moans into your mouth at your contact, pushing you back onto the couch until you're trapped beneath him. His length straining against his pants, grinding against your core. He can't help but want to explore every inch of you now that you've given him permission- your breasts, your throat, your folds. It doesn't take long for him to push your dress up and your soaked panties down, along with his belt and jeans discarded. Simon needed you now, no time to take you to the bedroom. He thinks that he'll have plenty of time for that later.

dbf!Simon Riley who brings your legs to his chest as his thick length slips into you, pumping deeply, trying to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars. He's absolutely determined to make you forget everything but his name in this moment. God, he wants all of you, and he's certain 1000 times with you will never be enough. Simon thinks you look so gorgeous taking him over and over again till the tears start to leak from your eyes, till you're begging for one more release. His girl now, he thinks.

dbf!Simon Riley who thinks about taking you out on his bike together, who thinks about waking up to you in the morning and sneaking kisses when your parents aren't looking. All while making you cum around his cock, your back arching and mouth falling open. Till he fills you up and you're squeezing him relentlessly.

No, he's never been the relationship type, but he thinks deep down maybe you'll be the one to change his mind.

[wooobuddyletsgetnasty]

maybe I have some Benedict Bridgerton girlies on here maybe not but I have to get this off my chest with the new season because the man looks good. And don’t think for ONE second that this is anything but self-indulgent.

there is ofc slight porn in here bc WHO DO YOU THINK I AM???

you’ve received your warning, come closer if you dare.

maybe something along the lines of Benedict being a best friend of your older brother, something along the lines of a staple in your household, someone you have grown far too used to seeing.

he is nigh a few summers your senior but still further progressed enough that they hardly allow you to play.

tragedy strikes on your year of three and ten, taking your mother and father, which leads you and your older brother, who is six and 10, to being sent to the countryside to stay until of age, until you are able to care for yourself.

—

it takes seven full summers for the two of you to make way back to the ton— on the eighth year, in the spring, you return— you make your debut with your brother heading the attempt to find a lawful man for you to wed.

that very same spring, you see Mr. Bridgerton again.. but he is different, as are you.

gone is the girl and in her place is a woman.

you are still bright-eyed, despite the tragedy— still quick witted and kind. but you are also different, ethereal— Benedict never realized how your smile lifts your cheeks, never realized how your brow furrows when you speak— Benedict sees you for the first time in years and it feels like he has really, finally seen you.

and he— he is a man now. taller than you remember, more filled out— stout. with strong hands and forearms you linger on longer than you should— something that proves the artist he is. but he is unchanged in mischief, in the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, in the way he tries to include you in conversation.

it is in the spring, the spring you return, when you realize— you love Benedict Bridgerton.

—

despite your realization, you note that Mr. Bridgerton will never see you as anything but his best friend’s younger sister. you are put out, saddened by it. but it does not stop you. you cannot, will not be your brother’s burden any longer.

it is then your discrete conversation, your inside jokes, and your admiration of Benedict’s art stops. you cannot be so close to a man if you expect to find a good husband, one that will care for you and make sure you are happy.

Benedict, Ben, will never love you and you are fine with that or at least you can pretend.

—

it does not take long for you to find a prospect, Lord Rothschild. he is kind to you— he listens when you speak, he does not treat you like you are lesser. you are content to marry him, happy even.

but it still feels like it is not enough.

his gaze does not burn through you— does not make you alive— it does not make you feel.

but you are fine— you convince yourself. you could be happy. you could learn to love him.

your engagement seems set in stone.

Lord Rothschild has asked your brother for your hand and you agree. your smile does not pull your cheeks in the way Benedict can make it— but the way your lips turn up when he tells you, it is enough for your brother to be content.

—

Benedict, Ben, he calls on you that very night— the very day your brother speaks with Lord Rothschild and there is something about him that seems urgent, terrified.

you speak to him quietly, your maid a shadow behind you, your gown sways in the light spring breeze, “what are you doing here?”

he pauses, hesitating in his answer, “I-I do not know, I do not know.”

you step closer, peering like someone might see you, “we cannot be seen— I am to be married— you cannot be here, Ben.”

he seems awed, struck in the same way he normally is by you, “i cannot tell you.. but i can show you.” you are rightfully confused but nod hesitantly, “alright, Ben. alright.”

“meet me at Bridgerton house in the early morn.”

you agree without question, hastily turning, nightgown ruffling with the movement, motioning your maid towards the door, “Bridgerton house. i will be there.”

—

you hold true and you come to Bridgerton house in the morn— but you do not end up staying there.

in a carriage surrounded by nothing but a stifling silence, you allow Ben to take you into town. your nerves are pooling in your stomach, making you feel ill— but something in his gaze makes you hold out.

when the carriage comes to a stop, Benedict leads you in a direction you are familiar with, and suddenly, he seems nervous to be standing in front of this building— you have seen it before and it does not help with your confusion.

it is his studio— a place you have spent far too much of your time in, wasting moments, talking about your favorite art piece of his, something abstract, something you do not understand but are happy to look at because he touched it.

“Ben.. what are we doing here?”

he swallows thickly, a nervous habit you have picked up on, “you will see.”

it does not quell your nerves.

—

the inside is different than what you have seen before. gone are the abstract arts and in their place is portraits— so many portraits.

you take a turn around, admiring the ones that are full of color, life. you admire the ones drawn hastily with dark lines and desperation. they are all beautifully done. you are awed by his talent, awed by how well done and intricate they seem.

it strikes you suddenly, quickly as you stare into one— those are all your eyes, your nose, your cheeks.

“Ben,” you pause, attempting to find the words, “are— are these all of me?”

you turn, looking at him with a look he has never seen before. Benedict swallows heavily, voice hesitant when he speaks, “yes, they are all of you.”

you turn back, a new admiration in your gaze, “you have painted me?”

you do not turn back when he speaks, “you are so beautiful, it is hard not to.”

you pause again on the one that seems desperate, the line of your brow drawn crudely, like he feared forgetting, “why me?”

there is a quiver in his voice, “even when i am unable to draw— to paint— i can still imagine you. i imagine you in perfect detail, every time. sometimes it’s only you, only you, i don’t even realize i am doing it— not until you, you with that enchanting smile, are looking back at me.”

your chest tightens, “Ben— please— please, explain what this means.”

there is a waver in your voice this time— echoing the same as his.

he answers steadily, a newfound confidence in his tone. Benedict moves, admiring his own art, “i have seen you millions of ways— millions of emotions,” with his next phrasing, he motions to a different art, art made by his hands, “contempt, sadness, anger, happiness..” his voice trails, “i have seen a million emotions in your face,” his lip quivers when he finally turns to face you, deep eyes turning tender, “and i have loved each of them.”

you shudder, emotion overtaking you, but you do not respond to him, instead allowing him to continue to speak, “i have loved each of them and i will continue to love them— each emotion, every passion— i will never, never finish loving them, loving you.”

you can hear nothing but your heartbeat— nothing but the sound of your ribcage rattling, “you— Ben— i cannot… i cannot do this. Lord Rothschild has asked for my hand. i am meant to be wed.. he will propose soon.”

you are rambling, almost trying to deny him— deny what you feel.

Benedict hardens but does not attempt to move closer to you, “you say you are to wed him,” he pauses, turning desperate, “but do you look at him the way you are looking at me?”

you do not recognize that you are looking at him any other way than normal, not until he quivers under your gaze, “stop. do not continue to look at me that way,” his voice drips with hardly there restraint, “do not— or i will ruin you.”

you break under his equal watch, hands going up in desperation, before landing equally at your side, “you, Benedict Bridgerton, have already ruined me. i cannot marry that man,” you cannot stop the absolute noise of desperation that falls from your lips, “i cannot marry that man— and it is because of you!”

he seems aghast at your words, “me? me!” he swaggers closer to you, some part of him sure that this is what you want and you answer by stepping in to his frame, confirming it is, “yes! you! you and your artworks, you and the way you are leering at me— you and just you, Benedict— you have ruined me. i have nothing left for anyone else,” you quiver, but do not deny yourself the satisfaction of finally admitting it, “i love you— i love you.”

it feels like a prayer— like a secret, like something you should not have shared. it is too late to retract— Benedict closes in on you, lips pressing against yours with an anguish you can taste.

—

it takes a moment of his lips pressing against yours before Benedict is pulling away, hands raising above his head, dark hair shaking with the move of his head, “tell me to stop— tell me to back away, please, please.”

you cannot— you will not. you refuse to deny yourself any longer, “no— Ben, Benedict— no.” when he turns away, you follow, making sure he can see you, see the emotion in your face, “you cannot do this— you cannot show me this and expect us to go back to normal.”

he finds himself unable to turn away from you, instead, he cradles you, hands cupping at the sides of your face in a way you can only describe as tender, and he whispers— he whispers in something you can only describe as salvation, “i love you.”

you answer in a kiss, one that makes him back you into a table, one that makes him lift you high, seating you on a table in the very place he paints— he paints you. his hands grip desperately at your skirts— he is temping you, nothing but sin reeking from every pore, “i love you.”

you squeal a noise unknown to you when he disappears under the fabrics, mouthing at the most sensitive parts of you like they are his supper, “wait! wait! what are you—“ you are cut off by a noise so depraved you do not recognize yourself, “oh! oh!”

you gather your own skirts in your hands, trying to take away burden from him but also trying to find something to grab— something to hold. you need it— need to focus on something other than his quick tongue— you need something to ground yourself against the onslaught of his mouth against the place only husbands are supposed to touch.

“Benedict,” you sound hazy, a feeling in your gut pooling in the way you have only felt your own touch make you, “something is happening!”

he hums against you, against your tender most spot, signaling he knows— he knows and it is supposed to feel like this, that it is supposed to happen this way.

you release your skirts, opting to instead grab at the dark hair on his head, pressing him against the part of you that feels the most— the part that tingles from the base of your spine to the tips of your toes, “oh! Ben! oh!”

you do not need to elaborate, he can tell— he knows, knows you are crumbling from his touch.

he pulls away from you, only when your noises turn in to almost discomfort.

he appears from under your skirts, grin happy and face wet. he watches you for only a moment.

Benedict watches the way your brow eases, worries quelled, watches the way your mouth opens in gasps— from him, because of him.

you heave for air, gasping and heaving and he pauses, taking in the way your face changes with each breath.

“i think i will paint you like this next,” you peer at him, him still lingering between your spread legs, his pretty face framed by the silky fabric of your dress, “but only if you will agree to be my wife.”

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Broken Betrothals

aemond x reader

A/N: made for a request for dark aemond!

WARNINGS: allusions to threats of murder (he’s just protective that’s all😁)

WORD COUNT: 651 words

You and Aemond had been close all your lives. Officially, you were Helaena’s companion, but everyone knew you were much closer to her brother. That’s why it’s his chambers you venture to when you get the letter from your betrothed, calling off your engagement. Nobody could possibly help you through it like he could. Nobody could make your problems disappear like he could.

“(Y/N)?” He looks confused when you arrive at his door, cheeks tearstained from sobbing. “What has happened?”

“H-He’s called it off…” You breathe out. “Lord Blackwood has rescinded his offer of marriage.”

“Oh, gevie.” (beautiful) “What an awful, cowardly excuse for a man.” He brings you into his arms, stroking his fingers through your hair gently. “Did he tell you why?” Aemond asks, but he knows the answer. Lord Blackwood has broken your engagement because Aemond told him to. Consequences of disobeying his prince were… easy to assume.

“He just said things had changed and that he was no longer in a position to take me as his wife. I just don’t understand what possibly could have happened.”

“Men like that can be incomprehensible. He’s a fool to give up a girl like you.” He says gently. Aemond always knows just what to say to make you feel better.

“I feel like a fool for trusting him and I worry that other suitors will think something is wrong with me. Breaking off an engagement is such an undutiful thing to do. They’ll think he found something out about me… a-and i’ll never find a husband.”

“It’s clear the problem lies with him. I will make sure it’s known.” He holds your face in his hands, wiping away the few tears. “Trust me.”

“There’s nothing truthful to be said that would make people side with me.” You say gently, always the kindhearted girl.

“Then I will fabricate a new truth.” Aemond says with all sincerity. If it pleased you, he would do much more to that man then tell a few white lies.

“That would be unjust.” Your moral compass is a bit of a hindrance to that though.

“What he did to you is unjust. He knows he could have ruined your prospects. He deserves it.” The darkness in your friend's eyes worries you but you know it’s just because he truly cares about you. He only wants to see no wrong done to you.

You settle to please him. “If he starts spewing untruths about me, then I believe it would be fair to say something back. Only as a defence of course.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then I will likely struggle to find a husband anyhow.” You say solemnly.

“I don’t believe there is a man alive who wouldn’t want to marry a sweet flower like you.” Aemond says in a sickeningly saccharine tone. The heat rises to your cheeks at his flirtatious words.

“It hardly matters how sweet I am if they believe me to be a loose woman or some other horrid thing.” You reply.

“Then i’ll marry you.”

“P-Pardon?” You stutter out, hardly believing he just suggested such a thing.

“I’ll make you my bride.” Aemond says with such finality that you can barely do more than gape at him. “I’ll take care of you. If you’d have me.”

“I would of course accept your offer if the need arises but I would never wish to push you into such a thing.”

“I would never feel pressured by such a prospect but if it makes you feel better, then we can agree to only do so if it becomes necessary.” He presents a deal that you can hardly refuse. “Do you accept?”

You think for a few moments. There could be much worse things in life than marrying your best friend.

“I accept.”

A smile comes across the prince’s face. Now, all he has to do is kill… deter all other suitors.

Comment to be added to taglist

[rendy-a]

Sorry, househusband Headcanons with Silver 👉👈✨💕(sorry the first questiom accidentally sent incomplete ) 👍

Ha ha ha. That first request would have been enough. Househusband Silver? Say no more. I'm with you there!

You have to keep an eye on him when he does chores to watch out for advice he picked up from your father-in-law.  Lilia passed on some of the strangest housekeeping habits to Silver and you never know when they’ll pop up.  You remember the winter that both of you were sick at the same time and Silver made an actual bathtub full of soup because that was the correct amount advised by Father. 

You do all the cooking prep together.  It’s not that you don’t like Silver’s cooking (even he knows to avoid using Lilia’s recipes), it’s just that you worry too much about his safety in the kitchen.  There have been some close calls where Silver has fallen asleep with a hot stove on or holding a knife.  Now, you have little dinner-prep dates to cook up meals for the week.  Each finished dish is one your spouse can finish off in the microwave or by setting a timer on a kitchen appliance.  It’s not foolproof but you certainly worry less.  Seeing Silver in an apron is just an added bonus!

You never thought you’d say this, but small forest animals are your back-up plan.  It’s like nature itself has decided to help your husband escape danger and accomplish his goals.  You’ve literally seen mice help him sew up a rip in your clothes and a deer pull your sleeping spouse out of the street.  You are grateful that Silver is so beloved by the animals, or you don’t know how you’d bare to leave him home without you!

You were sitting at your desk hard at work when suddenly a chill runs down your spine.  You look at the clock, there are three more hours of work left in the day.  You frown and decide to quickly check your phone messages, just in case.  When you pull the device out and look, your heart drops when you see the message, [Father is here for a visit.]  Oh dear, your famous Father-in-law is alone with your spouse, and you can’t do anything about it. 

You quietly take your phone and sneak away to the parking lot for a quick call.  It rings several times with no answer.  You hang up and try again.  This time, you get a sleepy, “Hello,” at the fourth ring.  You smile at the sound, picturing your spouse just awoken from a short sleeping spell.  “Hi dearest, I got your message.  How are things going?”  There is the smallest hint of a smile in the tone that replies, though you know he is stoic as ever on the other side.  “Father is helping me clean out the attic.  It’s going along well.  We’ve got everything moved out and into our living room now.”  You look out into the distance.  All the dusty things hidden away in the attic are now all over your clean living room.  Well, it could be worse.

You force an extra amount of cheer into your voice, “That’s great honey, and you are keeping an eye on him?  Making sure he…doesn’t work too hard?”  Silver assures you that he only fell asleep for a moment, but that Lilia was back where he expected him to be.  You feel a sense of dread, “Silver, it is nearly lunch time.  He hasn’t been cooking, has he?  Did you check?”  There is a long pause before Silver mutters, “I better go.”  You wish him the best of luck and disconnect.  Then, you gaze at your phone for a moment before dialing the nearest pizza delivery place.  Better safe than sorry.

A few hours later, you sneak away to the restroom to text your spouse.  [How are things?]  You wait quietly in the stall until you get a reply.  [Do you think we need to put a bedroom in the attic?]  You look at your phone in surprise, this conversation is already veering wildly from what you anticipated.  [Why would we do that?]  You see the dots appear and wait for your hubby’s text.  [In case we need to use the spare room for a nursery.]  You sigh and roll your eyes, Lilia again.  [We can talk about it when I get home.  Agree to nothing!!!]

After work, your thoughts turn immediately to your spouse, and you head straight home.  You see your house come into view and your sleepy husband is waiting for you at the door with his eyes shut.  You climb the stairs and give him a sweet kiss.  His eyes flutter open and he smiles at you, “I had a wonderful dream and now here you are.”  You brush a strand of his silver hair from his forehead, “Which was better?”  He looks at you with seriousness and replies, “You.  You are always better.”  You turn your head to the side, feeling the heat in your cheeks.

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, “So where is our precious Father?”  Silver drops back until he is only holding your hand, “He left.  He said we needed time alone to work on his grandchildren.”  You laugh and think that sounds very much like your spirited Father-in-Law.  You rub your thumb along the fingers holding your hand, “Well, since he is gone, I suppose its safe to ask about your day.  How did the attic cleaning project go?”  Silver calmly assures you that things went just fine.  Nearby, a squirrel looks up and meets your eye before giving you the most traumatized shake of its little head.  “I’m glad everything worked out,” you say as you make eyes that say ��I’m sorry’ to the neighborhood wildlife.  You didn’t know what trouble he’d been involved in, but you knew some evil had been conquered today.  You squeeze Silver’s hand and that prompts him to lift you into his arms and carry you over the threshold.  It wasn’t happily ever after, but for today, it was enough of a happy ending for you and your prince charming.

[nahoney22]

🌺 Orchids Tech 🌺

Medical Flora

X Female Reader

word count: 1.2k

🌸 💐 Flower Fic Event 💐 🌸

My second fic for the clone flower event 🌸 read my Commander Fox one here 🌺 Check the tag #cloneflowerficevent to see more! 💐

warnings: None, fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers 🌸💜

Other writers for this event include (will add links to each ficlet once writer has posted):

🌸 Myself - Tech | Fox

🌸 @jedi-hawkins - Kix | Echo | Crosshair

🌸 @moonstrider9904 - Howzer

🌸 @photogirl894 - Hunter | Wrecker | Fives

🌸 @eyecandyeoz - Waxer

🌸 @arctrooper69 🎂- Tup | Rex | Gregor

🌸 @l-lend - Wolffe

🌸 @dragonrider9905 - Hardcase

🌸 @totallyunidentified - 99 | Cody

“I appreciate you coming with me, by the way, Tech. Herbalism isn’t for everyone.” You chuckle as you bend down to inspect some nearby plants, using a scanner to check their properties.

After some members of your group had fallen ill, you asked Tech, quite reluctantly, to accompany you in finding a remedy. With credits scarce, medicine wasn't readily available to any of you.

“I do believe our best choice is to go to Felucia and seek out some Nysillin,” he says, looking around as he follows you. “But you are welcome.”

“We don’t have the time to go all the way to Felucia,” you sigh. While you partly agreed with him, it would take at least three rotations to get there from your current location, and none of you knew if the illness would spread or worsen in the meantime.

You stand up, and the two of you continue walking through the dense foliage, the air humid and slightly sticky. “If you see any flowers, point them out to me.”

Tech adjusts his goggles, scanning the area meticulously. “Understood. Though I must point out that identifying medicinal plants without a proper botanical reference could be inefficient.”

“I know, but we have to try something,” you reply, keeping an eye out for any potential remedies.

Your reluctance to Tech coming with you was simply from a place of feeling, precisely, your feelings for him. He made you both nervous and giddy but you knew nothing would ever come from it. So, instead you just relished in the time alone with him.

A few minutes later, Tech halts, his attention fixed on a cluster of vibrant orchids nestled among the greenery. “There,” he points, “those orchids might have some medicinal properties.”

You walk over to the orchids, marveling at their beauty. “Good eye, Tech. These could be promising.” You carefully gather a few specimens, making sure not to damage the stems and petals. Tech goes ahead and takes your scanner, beginning to analyse their chemical composition.

You crouch down beside him, looking at the scanner, curiosity piqued. “Can you tell me anything about them?”

“It states here that orchids have been known to possess a variety of medicinal compounds. With any luck, these might help mitigate the symptoms the others are experiencing,” he explains. Truthfully, some of his words go in one ear and out the other because you can't help but quietly admire him.

He turns his gaze to you, his eyes curious. “Do you believe these orchids will suffice?”

You snap out of your reverie, clearing your throat and looking down at the pile of scattered petals. “O-Oh, of course,” you say swiftly, helping Tech gather some into his backpack carefully.

You look back at the orchids, the soft mix of pink and purple flowers filling your senses. “These are so beautiful. Seems a shame to pick them.”

Tech looks at the flower and thinks for a moment. “I suppose they are nice on the eyes, yes.”

The next few moments feel like a dream as you watch Tech pluck a small strand from the bush. Your skin grows warm as he takes a hold of your chin with his thumb and index finger, turning your head towards him. Breath catching in your throat, you watch as he brushes your hair behind your ear and tucks an orchid into it. “I hope this will suffice,” he says softly.

You blink at him, taken aback. Where had that come from? Had he hit his head? Your silence lingers, and Tech suddenly realises his gesture was nothing short of flirtatious. “We,” his voice squeaks adorably, and he quickly clears his throat, “we should head back to the ship.”

You nod, still processing what just happened. “Yes, of course.”

As you walk back to the ship, the orchid in your hair has you recalling back to Tech did. His gentle words, his lingering touch on your skin… it was lovely. Tech walks beside you this time rather than behind, his usual composed demeanor slightly rattled, and you can’t help but smile at the thought of the brilliant, logical man having a tender, spontaneous side. Just for you.

You steal a glance at Tech, and your eyes lock. He looks slightly flustered, the tips of his ears turning a deep shade of red. As the Marauder comes into sight, you decide to take a gamble and stop. “Tech?”

He stops too, looking at you with curiosity. “Yes?”

“Thank you for coming with me. I know I already said that before, but I really appreciate your help.” Your voice is soft, and your fingers fidget nervously behind your back. “And for the flower in my hair… it was sweet of you.”

Tech smiles, taking a step closer. “You asked for my help, and I gave it. There is nothing to thank me for,” he says. His eyes flicker to the orchid in your hair and then back to you. “I apologize if this is forward, but I have always secretly favoured orchids. Both for their medicinal properties and, as you said before, they are beautiful and…” He trails off, his fingers flexing as he takes a deep breath, “and so are you.”

Your heart feels like it might burst from your chest, and your eyes glisten with unshed tears at his sweet words. Does this mean he likes you back? The possibility makes your heart race. But it could just be Tech being straightforward, yet you had never seen or heard him act this way with anyone else.

“Really?” you ask, the question sounding silly instead of just thanking him.

“Yes.”

You realize that you both have stepped closer to each other, your chests almost touching as he gazes down at you with gentle eyes. His gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips, but he’s nervous, and truthfully, so are you. Tech isn’t easy to read sometimes, making it hard to decide if he wants to kiss you or not.

You can feel his ragged breath on your face, his posture straight and stiff. So, you take the lead, standing on your toes and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. You let it linger, smirking as you feel him take a sharp inhale of breath.

When you pull back, you gauge his reaction. He’s bewildered and quite in awe. Eventually, he breaks out into a grin, and reading the situation correctly, he places a hand on your cheek and slowly leans in. His nose brushes against yours, and his lips are about to meet yours until…

“Are you two back?” A voice calls from the ship, and you both jolt back, alarmed. You look to see Wrecker coming into view, rubbing his tired eyes. “Any luck?”

A wave of relief washes over you both, thankful that the intimate moment wasn’t fully interrupted, but both a little disappointed it didn’t happen. Tech gives you an apologetic look before following Wrecker, who retreats back inside.

That afternoon, you make a remedy with the orchids and hand cups to each of the batch, making sure they drink it all and monitoring their progress through the rest of the day. By the fourth hour, they are looking better than before, and you feel immense relief.

You and Tech don’t have time to speak about what happened that day, but when he is asleep in his bunk, you notice you still have some leftover petals. So, with a small thought, you retrieve his helmet and begin placing the flowers along the edges of the visor, scattering them along the top.

The next morning, your heart swells and you realise you’re completely smitten with him as you see Tech wearing his helmet, the cute still flowers adorning it. He doesn’t seem to mind them at all.

Tags: @littlefeatherr @Kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @Jesseeka

@theroguesully @ladykatakuri @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone

@ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog

@pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora

@ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani

@tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

@greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur r @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater r @sithstrings @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904

[flemingsfreckles]

Grandkids

Jessie Fleming x Reader (parent fic)

Synopsis: You and Jessie catch wind that your teenage daughter might have a boyfriend. Jessie loses her mind over it.

Warnings: discussions of sex, bird and the bees type conversation

WC: 1.7k

A/N: literally no one asked for this but I’m struggling to write. This is just another short blurb that got written because I had a single thought about Jessie being a mom to teenagers and having to give her kids the birds and the bees talk.

When your children had gotten home from school that day, you and Jessie were in the office, organizing old documents. The office was just located off the kitchen where your two children had walked through the door.

Your youngest child, Riley was already interrogating at his older sister. “So what is he your boyfriend now, are you guys all gross and in love?” You paused what you were doing, listening further into the conversation.

“Stop Riley.”

“Amelia and Nick sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Your younger one continues to taunt his sister

“Ughhh, shut up!” Your daughter's voice begins to fade, you assume she’s walking out of the room and away from the teasing that’s going on.

“Where are you going? To call your boyfriend?” You hear Riley call after her followed shortly by the slamming of a bedroom door. Normally the door slamming would be immediate grounds for either you or Jessie to go talk with your daughter. However you and your wife both remained frozen in the office.

You hear your son grab something from the fridge and make his way to his own room before closing the door.

When you heard his bedroom door close Jessie started speaking. “Did he just say her boyfriend?”

“I think so? I don’t know?” You shrug at your wife before turning to put more papers away, no longer being distracted by the conversation between your teenagers.

“Why are you fine with this?” Jessie now standing, no longer caring to organize and shred paper. Clearly Jessie was not taking the new information well.

“Fine with what?” You look at Jessie, taking the papers in her hands to finish filing them away.

“Our daughter having a boyfriend.” She says as if it’s the most obvious answer.

“Oh right, I’m sorry, she didn’t turn out gay like us, we tried our best.” You feel the smile creeping across your face. “Maybe we should’ve let her play softball and dressed her in more flannels as a little kid.”

“Can you take something seriously for once?!” Jessie was usually a fan of your humor but it appeared that today was not the day for it. She was clearly upset.

“Jessie, first of all, Riley is 15 he might not actually know what he’s talking about, he might’ve just overheard some school gossip. Second of all, Amelia is 17, not 12, she can have a boyfriend.” You roll your eyes at your wife, seeing and hearing the panic that she was having.

“I thought we had agreed when she was born that she wasn’t allowed to date until she was 25!” Jessie was whispering yelling at you, not wanting to alert your children.

“That was a joke Jessie, I’m not controlling my kid’s romantic life until they’re 25!” You both had jokingly talked that you wouldn’t let anyone near her, she was your little girl, you both overbearing as brand new parents. You had forgotten about that, obviously realizing that she’s a human and will likely date before she’s 25.

“Well she can’t have a boyfriend.” She crosses her arms, staring at you like you’re the bad guy in this situation. You throw your arms out, not sure why Jessie is upset with you.

“She’s 17, it’s fine, we don’t even know if it’s actually a boyfriend.” You tried to reason with your wife but you could practically see the steam coming from her ears.

“She’s too young to have a boyfriend, she’s too young to be having sex!” Jessie whispers the word ‘sex’ as if just saying it was going to cause a teenage pregnancy somewhere in the world. “We cannot have grandkids yet!”

“Oh my god,” you start to laugh. “You’re fully losing it over this aren’t you?” You couldn’t believe Jessie’s dramatic jump from a potential boyfriend to your daughter giving you grandkids in a matter of seconds.

“I don’t know why you’re so okay with our daughter having sex with a boy we’ve never even met!” Jessie is wildly waving her hands, her face has a look of panic on it.

“Alright, sit, take a deep breath.” You push Jessie’s shoulders forcing her to put her weight up against the desk, half sitting on it. She takes a deep breath and you take one with her. You keep your hands on her shoulders, giving them a squeeze as you talk to her.

“We don’t know he’s her boyfriend. Let’s not jump to conclusions here. Amelia is a smart girl, you know that.” You take her hands in yours. “If she’s determined that now is the time she wants to start dating, I think we need to understand that that’s okay. We can talk with her about it. We’ll tell her our expectations, the expectations we have for her and whoever she wants to date. It’ll be fine.”

Jessie takes her hands from yours, crossing her arms over her chest, letting out a small huff. “But it’s not fine, I don’t trust him, I don’t think he has good intentions.”

“You’ve never met the kid, Jessie just because he’s a teenage boy, doesn’t mean he only wants sex from her.” You pause before you continue, knowing your wife would likely not be happy with the next few words you said. “And Jessie,” you grab her face making her look at you. “if she is dating this boy or dating anyone, and she’s curious about the physical intimacy that comes with that, I think that’s okay.”

“No its-” you hold up your hand to stop Jessie’s sentence.

“Let me finish. If she’s curious and has questions, I’d rather she feel comfortable coming to us than to the internet or her friends who don’t know and will give her terrible information. Yes, 17 is young, but she’s practically an adult Jessie. She’ll be off at school in a year, where she won’t have us to help her with these things.” You can practically see the rage building up in your wife’s face. “Now I'm not going to sit here and tell her to go have sex, but I'm not going to let our daughter be taught that sex is a sinful or scary thing, you know that. We’ve raised them to be open and honest about sex so far, we can’t become a sex-negative household now that she’s at that age where it might be a thought. We can talk with her, have an adult conversation. We’ll explain the emotional aspect that comes with it, we’ll make sure she understands all the aspects of what it means to have sex with someone. And that if,” you take a deep breath, “if she’s planning on, or has any interest in having sex, we’ll get her set with birth control or condoms, probably both.”

“She’s too young, putting her on birth control would be like offering to buy them a hotel room to do it.” You couldn’t believe Jessie’s behavior still, you thought your reasoning would’ve helped her opinion at least a little.

When you first learned you were having a girl, Jessie was admient that no one would go near your daughter until she was 30. But the two of you had done your best to raise your kids to be informed, you taught them about consent early, you taught them the anatomy of where babies come from, when your daughter turned 14, you and Jessie sat her down, giving her the full bird and the bees talk. You did most of the talking, Jessie was there but she looked just as mortified as your daughter did. You taught her sex wasn’t bad and sex wasn’t just for babies, it was for intimacy, connection, enjoyment, it was fun, it was a way to connect with another person, but that didn’t make it any less serious. Jessie had been on board before with these discussions, she didn’t always participate fully, but she was always there and you knew your daughter had gone to her to ask her some questions after to get clarification. But now that the reality of your daughter starting this part of her life was real, Jessie had done a 180.

“Jessie, she’s a teenager, teenagers have hormones. If she wants to have sex, it’s going to happen, teenagers find a way whether we like it or not. I’d rather her be having safe, informed, and protected sex, than unsafe sex in a boy’s mom’s car in a sketchy dark parking lot in the middle of nowhere just so they can avoid getting caught.”

You both sit in silence, Jessie looks at the ground and you look at her.

“I hate that you’re right.” She mumbles after a few minutes.

“I know.” You kiss her cheek with a smile. “Jessie” you grab your wife’s hand, your thumb rubbing over where her wedding band and engagement ring sat, “Let’s just go talk to her, that way we’re not sitting here guessing and making up scenarios. For all we know it’s not a boyfriend.”

“I just can’t believe she wouldn’t tell us. She’s our little girl, she used to tell us everything.” You can now see the sadness in Jessie’s eyes.

“I know, but our little girl is growing up, she’s a moody teenager now, she’s not going to want to share everything with us, and that’s okay.” You sit down next to Jessie, resting your head on her shoulder as you both stare at the door of the office.

“I want her to go back to being so little. I used to be able to hold her in one arm.”

“I know, they both used to be so little.” You and Jessie sat together, your head on her shoulder, reminiscing on the 17 years that seemed to have flown by. Thinking about how small their fingers used to be, how small their clothes were, how they’d babble at you, all of that gone, you now had two grown children.

“We did a pretty good job with them I think. They’re good people.”

“Yeah,” Jessie laughs, “just not to each other.”

“Well they’re siblings.” You respond back. You realize you’ll probably have to talk to your son too about his teasing. “Ready to go talk to her?” You ask Jessie.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to watch her grow up but I don’t think I have a choice.” Jessie says pushing herself off the desk. “Let’s go.”

[loversatthegreatdivide]

Heavy Lies the Heart - Part 2

Masterlist // Continue Reading

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 3.2k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: (eventual) canon death Summary: Two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance. Can they find purpose in each other, or will circumstance keep them apart? A/N: I do not necessarily intent to update this everyday, but then again I won't complain about it when I'm motivated enough to make it happen. Also, just as a side note: My knowledge of the British aristocracy and the laws of inheritance in England at this particular time are shaky at best. Some things I will research because I feel like I can't leave it alone, but in this case I honestly do not care how historically accurate every single detail is. Again, Bridgerton is an AU, so I'll do what I want.

Benedict slumped down on the settee, arms crossed and his brow furrowed. He was all but lying down with how far he had sunk, and as he half-lay in his seat, his mind raced.

He was frustrated.

It had been days since the Danbury ball, and yet he was no closer to discovering the identity of the enchanting young woman he had met there. In these past few days, she had occupied more space in his mind than he was comfortable admitting. He needed to see her again--or at the very least learn her name.

He had been through every family he could possibly think of, but all had been dead ends. Not that he was familiar with every household in the ton, but certainly his mother had briefed him on many of the households with eligible debutantes. He thought surely one must be the home of his mystery woman.

Anthony strolled into the sitting room, an eyebrow lifting as he looked over at his brother.

"What's got you brooding so?" he asked, taking a seat next to Colin at the small, round table that had been laid out with confections. He took a jelly tart for himself as he eyed Benedict from his seat.

"I do not brood brother--you are the one that broods," Benedict corrected, wiggling himself further down the settee, "Honestly I am pouting at best."

"Then what has you pouting so, Benedict?" Colin chimed in, setting the book he had been reading aside.

Benedict thought for a moment about telling them. They were his brothers after all, and there was the possibility one of them may even have some insight into the young lady's identity.

He thought better of it almost as soon as the thought entered his mind.

There was the potential to gain valuable information yes, but the ribbing he would receive in return would be never-ending. And there was the risk of the information reaching his mother's ear. He shuttered to think what she would do if she believed he was actively seeking a wife--he saw how she was with Anthony last season.

He certainly didn't want anyone in his family to presume something so ludicrous as his desire to marry--he wasn't looking for a wife, he was only curious.

Yes, curiosity. That was all.

He decided it wasn't worth the trouble; not yet, at least. While he had no luck finding her again, at the very least he knew she was aware of him. There was a chance she may seek him out, however slim it may be. And of course it seemed very likely she would attend the next ball. A debutante newly introduced in society could hardly be kept from every dance and social engagement held throughout the season. Even if she herself had seemed less than taken with the last event, there was surely a pestering mama in the picture that was pushing her forward regardless.

So he would wait to speak of it with his family until he had no other options.

"I was just thinking longingly of the peace and quiet in the house while the two of you were away," he joked, his hands moving dramatically to press together, as if in prayer.

"Well now I know you're lying," Anthony smirked, "Since when did you enjoy peace and quiet?"

"It certainly sounds out of character," Colin agreed, "Perhaps he simply enjoyed having fewer people around to catch him leaving for his nightly excursions."

"Yes Colin, I think you're right," the eldest brother replied. Benedict scowled, finally sitting up straight as to address his brothers at eye-level.

"That is quite the accusation, dear brother. Care to defend it on the piste?" Benedict challenged.

Colin smirked, "Careful brother--I'm stronger than I used to be."

"Well then, perhaps after another trip abroad you may finally pose a challenge for me," Benedict quipped, "Shall you join as well Anthony? You wouldn't want to miss our younger brother's humiliating defeat."

"He has been rather big-headed since his return, it would be nice to watch his ego deflate," Anthony grinned over at Colin, "For his own sake as well as ours."

"Would the two of you like to back up your boasting, or shall we sit and discuss it for another hour?" Colin huffed. Anthony and Benedict exchanged knowing smiles.

"Very well then," Benedict said as he rose from his seat, "Shall we then?"

The three brothers exited the room, pushing each other lightly and laughing as they headed for the back garden.

---

Beatrice slumped forward in her chair, frowning as her unfocused gaze fell to the bookshelves that lined the far wall. Her chin sat balanced on one hand, as the other absentmindedly fiddled with a page in the large book that lay on the table in front of her. She knew she would be reprimanded if her tutor--or worse, her grandmother--saw her slouching, but she was too bored to concern herself with it at the moment. She sighed, glancing down at the page she held between her fingers.

As the second child of the Prince Regent, Beatrice was fourth in line for the throne--soon to be fifth, once Charlotte's child was born. She no longer needed to prepare for a hypothetical future where she would someday need to step up and become queen. Yet still, her father insisted she continue her studies while forcing her to follow his excessively strict rules. Even convincing him to allow her stay at Buckingham House had been a struggle. Luckily, her father was rather a pushover when it came to his mother, and when the queen had insistent Beatrice be allowed to stay for the season he could hardly say no.

She straighten, only to slid down into her chair. It's not as if she disliked the act of learning altogether. There had been many times when she felt she had truly enjoyed her lessons, having looked forward to more than one. But there were others that felt rather pointless; just tedious memorization that she would never have need for even if she were to become queen.

Studying the crest and founder of all the current noble houses, along with the family tree going back at least three generations, was not exactly thrilling.

She had found some enjoyment when she first started, flipping immediately to the section concerning a family she was now quite interested in. It did somehow feel a little like snooping, and she felt a bit guilty looking through Benedict's family history. However, she told herself it was all public knowledge, and after all it was a part of her studies.

She learned quite a lot about the family--their crest, the first Viscount's name and history, and of course the family as it stands now. It was a surprise to learn Benedict had seven siblings; she couldn't even begin to image having such a large family. Then again, her father was one of fifteen children, so perhaps eight was not so unreasonable.

After learning all she could about the Bridgertons, she moved on. She was less enthusiastic about learning anything at all about the other households, and soon she found her thoughts drifting.

It had been a few days since the ball. Beatrice had been the one to ask if she could attend, and at the time truly thought she would enjoy going. She hoped she may make a friend--possibly even two. She had been so isolated as a child, and her sister had always been little company to her. It would have been nice to talk to people her own age.

However, she had not expected she would cause such a frenzy. She hadn't realized how little people saw of the royal family at such events--with the exception of the queen, of course. It made Beatrice too conspicuous. She was a shining light of hope representing the next generation of the monarchy.

Then of course, there were the men. Knowing nothing about her, yet treating her like a prized mare up for auction. She supposed even as the second child, she must seem appealing to them. The crown may be out of reach, but her future husband would still be a prince--and of course, there was the considerable amount of riches she had access to as a member of the royal household.

Perhaps that's why she had been so taken with Benedict Bridgerton.

He had clearly not known who she was. Perhaps he had arrived late, or been out of the room when she had been announced alongside her grandmother. Either way, he seemed truly clueless to the title she carried. It made him seem so genuine compared to the others she had met that night. It had been so refreshing to be treated as her own person, rather than a royal. It may well be his motivations were less than pure, but at the very least he seemed like an honest person. Perhaps more prone to humorous banter, but still so sincere when it was needed.

This left her with a rather vexing problem.

On the one hand, he would certainly learn her identity sooner or later. It made sense to simply tell Benedict now rather than hide it from him, which may go poorly when he did eventually discover the truth. On the other hand, she had enjoyed their conversation immensely, and if he found out she was a princess after only a single meeting, he would likely feel the obligation to treat her just as everyone else did. She would lose her one chance to have a real connection with someone that wasn't singularly focused on her proximity to the throne.

If she wanted to continue hiding her title from him, she would need to find a way to see him. If they built up a friendship first, perhaps once he did learn the truth he would be less inclined to treat her differently. She was nearly guaranteed to see him at the next ball, but then she would once again be announced as a princess. Whatever had caused him to miss her entrance at the first ball, she had doubts that it would happen a second time.

With that being the case, she either had to wait and see him at the next ball, holding out hope he may continue to act as he had before even after learning the truth. Or, she had to see him outside of a ballroom. She couldn't bare the thought of losing an opportunity for real friendship, but of course she would never be allowed to leave Buckingham House on her own. This left her with only one option.

She would have to sneak out.

---

Benedict lounged lazily on the sill of his bedroom window. His head leaned back against the wood of the frame as he gazed out over the lamp lit streets below. In his lap sat his sketchbook, filled with half-finished sketches of a lovely young woman whose face he just couldn't quite capture.

Spending the afternoon with his brothers had been a nice reprieve from his mind, but night had fallen and now he was alone. There was nothing to stop his thoughts from wandering every corner of London, searching for a girl he hardly knew. Benedict threw his sketchbook to the floor with a groan, rubbing his charcoal stained hands down his face in frustration.

He felt ridiculous, being so overcome with thoughts of someone he barely knew. The mystery and intrigue of it all certainly played a part in his curiosity, but he would be lying if he said it had nothing to do with the girl herself. Such circumstances made her a novelty to be sure, but she had exhibited qualities he had not often see from those of the ton. He had replayed their conversation a hundred times in his mind, and he was now sure that he knew at least something of her character.

To Benedict, she had seemed a well of profound, thoughtful emotion. She felt things deeply and was not ashamed to show it. This was in contrast to so many in his social class, who held propriety above all things--even their own feelings.

She had been shy, but still wasn't quite as naive as he may have first thought. She was clearly kind, but that didn't stop her from being quick-witted when she saw the occasion for it.

It had been such a short amount of time, but what he had learned of her had only fueled a desire to learn more.

Perhaps most interesting was that her insecurities seemed to match his own perfectly. He had been feeling rather useless following Anthony's return, and from what she had said she felt quite the same about her own situation. He had never expected to find a kindred spirit in one of the young ladies of the ton.

Not that Benedict thought them all completely incapable of deeper thought, it was only that his situation as a second-son was rather obviously specific only to sons. A woman could not inherit her families title even if she were the first born child, so it was unlikely to find one so worried over her place within the family hierarchy. It was their future husband's title that truly mattered.

He didn't know enough about the young lady's family to know for sure, but he supposed if her family had only daughters it would be up to the eldest to marry well to secure their family's title and estate. A second daughter would inevitably leave once she was wed, leading him to believe his mysterious young lady must also be quite loyal to worry about her family so.

Perhaps that was something to think on.

---

Benedict, so caught up in his own mind, failed to notice when the very woman occupying his thoughts appeared on the street below him.

She pulled the hood closer to her face as she looked up at him, his shadowed profile gazing up at the stars. He was difficult to make out in the low light, but she was quite certain it was him.

Benedict Bridgerton.

She was thankful to arrive having drawn no unnecessary attention. This time, she wore a less conspicuous dress than she had at the ball. It was made of a pale green fabric, cut in the popular style the other ladies of the ton were wearing. She had worn a silken, violet cloak over top so she was able to hide her face from view. Perhaps walking around covering her face was in itself a suspicious act, but anyone who may look at her strangely for it would have no opportunity to get a good look at her face, which was all that concerned her.

She may have avoided notice so far, but she faced a new problem: How was she to draw Benedict's eye without also drawing the attention of passersby on the street? She could not simply call out to him, but them he would need to be looking down at the street to alert him quietly. Frustratingly, at the moment he seemed content looking up at the sky, rather than down to earth.

She had only one other idea.

---

As Benedict sat deep in thought, he was roused by a small clank on the wall near his window. Before he had the chance to turn his head, something small and hard smacked him in the forehead. The surprise caused him to lose his balance, his body rocking back and forth in the open window. When he at last steadied himself, he rubbed his forehead, looking down to find whomever it was that had struck him.

A woman in a hooded cloak looked back up at him, gloved hands raised to her mouth in a look of surprise and worry.

Once she realized she had his attention, she pulled back her hood, and Benedict felt his heart jump to his throat.

This time, the shock did cause him to tumble over, though thankfully landing on his bedroom floor rather than the street below. He scrambled to the window, popping his head out as he gripped the sill. She had one hand to her lips, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stifle a laugh. She quickly beckoned for him to come down before turning, pulling her hood back to it's place atop her golden curls.

It was her.

She was really here.

Benedict fumbled as he stood, grabbing his coat and gloves from their place discarded on his bed as he all but ran out of the room. He nearly barreled straight into Anthony as he flew down the stairs, one arm in his jacket.

Anthony gave Benedict a suspicious look, "And where are you going in such a rush?"

"Out," Benedict replied simply, sliding his free arm through the empty sleeve.

"Out where?" Anthony asked, annoyed.

"Just out," Benedict reiterated, "Honestly brother, do you truly want to know?"

Anthony sighed, "No, I suppose I don't." He gave his brother a stern look, "Just be sure your mother doesn't catch you--I have to hear enough from her about Colin as it is."

Benedict smiled. He grabbed Anthony's face between his hands and gave his cheek a quick kiss, "Thank you brother!" Anthony made a disgusted noise, knocking Benedict's hands away, "This is why you're my favorite elder brother," he added as he began descending the rest of the staircase.

"I'm your only elder brother!" Anthony shot back, shaking his head as he turned away, continuing his way up to the second floor.

Benedict grinned from ear to ear as he burst through the doors of Bridgerton House. He turned when he reached the street, catching sight of her as she fidgeted with her hands nervously. His smile softened as he watched her, though in truth he was beginning to feel quite nervous himself. Benedict started to move toward her, and soon enough she caught sight of him. He smiled at her, his stomach doing somersaults when she shyly smiled back. They stood there in silence for a long moment, taking each other in.

"You're here," Benedict commented at last.

"Ah, yes...I am," she smiled as she glanced down briefly, "It's good to see you again, Mister Bridgerton--and I am quite sorry, about the rock." He looked at her in confusion, until she quickly pointed to her forehead and he realized her meaning.

"Oh! Was that what that was? It's no bother--after all, I can think of far worse things you could have thrown at me." The back of her fingers pressed lightly to her lips as she laughed. He smiled, feeling emboldened by her response to his rather silly joke, "Though, if you truly wanted to make it up to me, you could start by telling me your name?"

She looked surprised, "Oh, right. Of course. I suppose I did fail to give it to you when we spoke before."

"Yes, and I must say I've been taking it quite personally," he said, his lower lip pouting as he looked at her in mock sadness. She smiled.

"Well, I would hate to think I had caused you any pain," she joked, and he grinned back. "You may call me Beatrice."

----------

Tags: @empressnatsume

[heavyhitterheaux]

Treat You Better Preview

“Urb, here me out. Why are you so against this? I like Y/N and I'm 98% sure that she likes me back and I'm good enough for her! I'm not like these other dudes out here that don't deserve her. I know and you do too that I'm going to treat her like she deserves.” Jack expressed as he pleaded his case. He knew that it would eventually come down to this.

"You are literally the biggest WHORE that I know of. Ain't no way in HELL. She's been off limits from the beginning and you know that."

"Look who's talking! We're adults now and she can decide for herself who she wants to date." Jack quickly shot back looking at his best friend in disbelief.

"Her track record says otherwise. She's my godsister and I'm going to do what I need to do in order to protect her."

"But from me? Protect her from me? Do you hear yourself right now? So you’re going to shelter her for the rest of her life?”

"Especially from you. I've seen your track record too with relationships and she's not someone that you hit it and quit it. And I’m not sheltering her. I’m protecting her from no good assholes.” Urban replied keeping his voice low in the hopes that you wouldn't hear him.

"I'm not going to do that with her and did you low key just call me an asshole? You know how important she is to me!” Jack was now fuming and shaking his head at him in disbelief.

"Like I said. She's my baby sister and I said no. I don't give a fuck about how you feel. End of discussion.”

“The fuck it is. We can agree to disagree.”

As Urban was getting ready to respond, you walked in the room beaming, holding Jack’s dog CoCo in your arms.

“Jack Jack, are we ready to go?” You asked as you scratched behind her ears.

“Where are you two going?” Urban asked while getting a slight attitude.

“Jack promised me an ice cream date with just the two of us. Since we couldn't do it yesterday.” You responded and Urban shot Jack the evil eye while all he did was come closer to you.

“Are you two okay? You both look tense.” You asked looking at both of their faces and Urban couldn't help but to blurt it out.

“I don't want you dating Jack.” Was all he said and you looked at him dumbfounded.

“Well Urby, that isn't for you to decide. I can date whoever I want. But I would at least think that you would approve of me dating your best friend.”

“I don't want you to get hurt.”

“Jack would never hurt me in a million years and you need to get that through your head and get over it. We mean a lot to each other and I would think that you would be happy. You don't want to see me happy?”

“Yes! Of course I do, but…”

“But what, Urban?”

“He thinks that I'm going to use you essentially and when I get what I want, leave you high and dry. Oh and also said that I'm the biggest whore he knows.” Jack finally spoke up and you looked at Urban who simply shrugged.

“I've seen him do it countless times before and he's not a relationship type of guy.”

“Urban, I love you with all of my heart, but until I ask you for your opinion, stay out of my love life. I am tired of you coddling me like I can't take care of myself. I'm not a baby anymore.”

“Fine, but when he cheats on you and breaks your heart remember that I warned you. Oh, and don't come crying to me because all I'm going to do is say I told you so.” Urban replied as he walked away bumping Jack’s shoulder on purpose but he decided to ignore him.

“Urby!”

“Nope, don't want to hear it.”

“URBAN HENRY WYATT!”

“Enjoy your date.”

As he walked off, you turned back to Jack Who could tell that you were clearly upset.

“Just give him some time. He'll come around.” Jack told you as he kissed your forehead, but he wasn't quite sure if he believed those words himself.

[patolemus]

Sterek fic recs: Fake Dating AU Edition

Because @oldefashioned requested a fake dating rec list, here it is. These are all very funny, as fake dating fics ought to be, so I hope you get a good laugh out of it.

1. Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

Notes: Domestic pack, my beloved. Stiles and Derek are precious here, I LOVE THEM!! The visiting pack, not so much, but who cares about them?? It's all pretty lighthearted, all things considered. It's completed.

2. Electricity In the Contact by ladyblahblah

In which Derek has been invited to the Greater Pacific Northwest Alpha Symposium (that's not what it's called, Stiles, stop saying that), and showing up unattached would mean an arranged marriage. When the rest of the pack objects, he agrees to let Stiles come along to pose as his mate. Derek is reasonably sure that he's not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

Notes: Werewolf convention fics are so good! I actually haven't found all that many, considering how common a trope it is, and it's a tragedy because they're always so well done! This one is no exception, and the mini-world building is also great! It's completed.

3. can’t be hateful, gotta be grateful by HalfFizzbin

"Be cool, Dad, we've decided to con Grandma." (Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Notes: this one is just *cheff´s kiss* wonderful! It's all pretty domestic and the humor is on point. College student Stiles and the Sheriff are strong armed into spending Thanksgiving with Stiles' grandma, and they find nothing better than to bring Derek with them. Pining and misunderstandings ensue and thus comes the fake dating. It's completed.

4. Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi

“Three weeks,” Derek says. “Still don’t want to,” Stiles says. “I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so… “How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“ “My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.” “A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

Notes: this had such a chokehold on me when I first read it. Absolutely wonderful. Enemies to lovers?? Maybe. Assholes to assholes-in-love, is a better descriptor. There's werewolves, and magic, and it's awesome! It's completed.

5. He’s Not Mine by Sonnee

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

Notes: again, it's all very domestic, like most fake dating fics ought to be. It's a kid fic, Sterek are mates, we have all the love. Not much else I can think to add... it's completed.

6. Real life isn’t a movie (life doesn’t make narrative sense) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

Somehow accidentally insulting a hot guy in a coffee shop leads to pretending to be his boyfriend in front of a house full of werewolves. Stiles Stilinski is living his best life and making the most of his Hallmark movie moment.

Notes: this one had me cracking up because it's so funny! Stiles is living his best life, for real. Derek... suffers. But it's okay, because he gets a boyfriend out of this whole thing! They are disgustingly sweet in that assholish way they have. It's completed.

7. You look like my next mistake by Vendelin

“So, are you dating someone new? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re frigid?” Kate cocks her head to the side, smiling as though she just asked him about where he bought his shoes. His entire body sighs in defeat as his shoulders grow square. Just as he opens his mouth, someone comes up to stand beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. When he glances to his side, expecting to see Isaac, his brain seems to malfunction. Because it isn’t Isaac. It’s Stiles Stilinski, the lacrosse talent of the year, a senior who Derek has seen multiple times from far away, but never ever talked to. In which Derek is a nerd jock, and Stiles is a frat guy, and Derek falls for him even though he knows he shouldn't.

Notes: this one had me HOWLING it's so good!! Frat boy Stiles, my beloved. It's technically not fake dating because it turns into an actual relationship pretty quickly, but it starts as fake dating so I'll take it. Stiles is an absolute sweetheart in this one, I love him! And Derek is shy, and insecure, but he's so great, and everyone gets a happy ending except Kate, which is always a good thing. It's completed.

8. All’s Fair In Orgasms and War by bleepobleep

AVN BREAKING NEWS-- DIAMOND VISTA RIDGE BREAKS HIS CONTRACT WITH HALE HOUSE "We haven't seen much of our favorite rock hard stud from Hale House ever since that indie twink dethroned him as champion in Orgasm Wars, but it's just been confirmed that Diamond will no longer be working for the legendary studio famous for producing some of our favorite werewolf-on-human works. Don't fret, Diamond fans, it looks like he's been spotted cozying up to True Alpha Studios! Apparently he couldn't get enough of that one human and then followed him home. Could it be true love? Keep your eye on this studio-- us at AVN think we're about to get a lot more of Diamond in a very new way!" ~ The one in which (almost) everyone is a porn star, and Derek just wants to curl up with his fluffy blanket and watch the Hallmark channel, but work and falling in love gets in the way.

Notes: okay but is this fake dating? Maaaaaybe. It's kinda complicated. Basically everyone here is a porn star and the pack has this studio where they cater to werewolves and have a whole thing about established relationships, which is where the fake dating comes up. It's surprisingly very fluffy, considering this is a porn au, and Derek is the softest goober in this one. Stiles is completely enamoured. It's completed.

9. Wanted from the You Are series by Asterekmess (Livinginfiction)

With the Hale pack finally settled and safe, it only makes sense that something would happen to screw it all up. To top it all off, Stiles has to pretend to be Derek's mate, or face a pack of angry Alphas. He's doomed.

Notes: Alright so this series is wonderful. The world building done for the Alpha pack is also great, and that's the center of the second part (which has the fake dating). I do recommend reading the first part before jumping on to Wanted because it is a direct continuation. Also, it's an amazing au! It's completed.

10. For Love is Not Ours to Command by weathervaanes

Where Derek's skills at thinking on his feet mean that he and Stiles have to act. For the sake of Stiles' dad, of course, for the sake of the pack. No personal interest interference at all, whatsoever. Right. -0- “Why does my dad say that you and your boyfriend are a bad influence on me?” “What?” “Yeah, what boyfriend? Dude, you are not allowed to not tell me crap like this. You didn't think I'd like be a douchebag or something. Right?” “No, wait, what? I have no boyfriend.” “He says you were with him at the police station.” Stiles blinks. “Uhm. Oh shit.”

Notes: Stiles just wanted to find dirt on Raphael McCall to blackmail him. Somehow, he got himself a whole ass boyfriend. It's complicated. That's it, that's the fic. It's completed.

11. Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MareLoup

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.” “Oh thank god!” “Stiles?” “I, uh, I need some advice.” “Advice?” “Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?” Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.” “That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.” “Stiles...what are you doing right now?” *** Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work. Partly because their visit was a complete surprise. But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend. Or even know who Derek was. But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

Notes: this is to date one of my favorite Sterek fics. I laughed so much while reading this, I'm not even joking. The whole thing is a comedy of errors gone right. Stiles somehow finds himself pretending to be Derek's boyfriend, only he has no idea who Derek even is and why his family knows Stiles at all. His inner monologue is one of the funniest I've read, and his slow descent into (good natured) madness is wonderful. It's completed.

12. Love Like An Ache In The Jaw by Anonymous

“So let me get this straight,” The sheriff massages his temples, “You found a magic book, and performed a magic spell that has backfired and magically bound you to Derek Hale, rendering you both in agony if you’re not in the same room.” Derek and Stiles exchange a look. “Um. Yes.” Stiles says sheepishly. “Right. And just to be clear, when we’re talking agony… exactly how agonizing is the agony?” Derek clears his throat. “Sir, I’ve had a pole stabbed through my chest and held there for an hour. This was… similar.” - In which boredom, magic and dumbassery come together to produce a Christmas miracle slash disaster. Oh, and Stiles' grandmother who knows absolutely nothing about the supernatural happens to be in town. Oops.

Notes: another hilarious one. Stiles does Stiles things and ends up magically bound to Derek. No one is amused except Stiles' grandmother, who's having the time of her life, here. It's completed!

[windvexer]

Hiya Chicken! I was wondering if you could expand upon what you meant in your most recent post (some people DO need physical items)? I think I understand what you're saying (some people are incapable of directing energy for spellwork on their own and need the assistance of tools, and that's okay?) but I'm not sure it's entirely clicking in my brain. Is it somewhat akin to "some people cannot effectively direct their energy without additional forces like correspondences to nail it down"? The idea is something I can get behind, I just want to make sure I'm not missing out on other nuance and completely misinterpreting. It isn't something I've really thought about before, so I want to make sure I'm like. Understanding fully and completely. Thank you for your time :)

Hi!!

We are in reference to this post.

Hey! I like where you’re coming from, but I think there can be more to it. You're really kind for inviting me to talk about my thoughts 😅

Uh... I'd also like to say that this has been on my mind for a really long time, so I don't think the following is comprehensive, but it's a good start.

I also want to reiterate that when most people say "you don't need stuff to practice witchcraft" they probably mean it in an encouraging and anti-consumerist way, which I don't disagree with; I just think it's more nuanced than that.

Accessibility: A part of witchcraft is integrating it into your life so that it’s possible to practice. If you’re a very ‘out of sight, out of mind’ individual, then it may literally be necessary to have physical tools, altars, and reminders around you, or else you’ll wake up 5 months later remembering you wanted to be practicing this entire time.

Also accessibility: You say that some people might need tools to help move energy, which is a factor (more on that later!) but it’s also a thing that some people can’t just sit down in an empty room and focus on visualization + willpower. Not all people can sit still and use meditative focus to direct their thoughts for an extended period of time without any external stimulation. That doesn’t mean they wouldn’t be good at energy work; it just means they can’t engage with that style of practice.

Still accessibility: This is more on the “it’s okay to buy mass produced” side of things, but an interest in witchcraft doesn’t automatically equal talent or interest in handcrafting skills. Making custom boutique tools takes time, money, energy, workshop space, and physical ability that not everyone has. It’s unfair to imply that even if you can buy a ready substitute online for $30, a beginner is a poser if they don’t take four months of free time to hone a personal hobby and make the tool themselves.

Sorcery: Not all schools of sorcery agree that you can advance down the path you want to take while never accumulating physical tools, icons, or ingredients. For example, my paradigm (which isn’t terribly unique) advises that in order to make changes in the physical world around you, then you need to use physical tools. No crystals to impregnate with energy? No herbs to sprinkle into the dinner? No candles? You can’t even direct energy into the threshold, windows, doorways? Then maybe you’re not going to be able to affect physical reality the way you want to.

(But, Chicken! You don’t need physical tools to put energy work into the front door. So you agree that the physical object is still a necessity? Or, no? Is it possible to create a purely astral threshold? Because...)

Energy: Just because you can perform an operation without using any physical tools doesn’t mean you have the personal energy to pull it off, especially not on a regular basis. For example, perhaps someone can create an energy construct of a cauldron sufficient to perform ritual gestation. They cast a spell purely out of energy work, and feed it with energy. That’s all good! But I can’t do that, because it would exhaust me. It’s not that I’m unable to direct energy; I can do energy work. It’s not a lack of talent or education. It’s just that I am literally, physically, too much of a low-energy witch to be able to do a lot of work without tools. If I had to substitute everything with energy work, I couldn’t do a lot of my witchcraft; I am too tired.

Spirit Work: In my paradigm (which is not so rare), a very important way to develop relationships with gods and spirits is to invite them into your physical space by devoting trinkets, houses, shrines, or spaces to them. By giving them a slice of your life, you invite them into your life! I don’t have to do that with a spirit. I can use my energy to bridge the gap with them every time. I can provide energy offerings to them every time they come through to me. I mean – hypothetically. I hypothetically could, but I actually can’t, because even though I can do energy work, I do not have enough personal energy to call my gods and spirits through into my IRL space using my own power multiple times a day. I especially do not have this energy when I need them most – a.k.a, when I am fatigued, distressed, and in need of help.

At a certain point, if Oak tree tells you to go find wood for a staff or wand, you’re going to have to do that. Maybe it’s going to take months or years of spellwork, careful searching, and cunning, but if you want your relationship to progress, it can’t be 100% on your terms. My point in all of this is just to say, I do agree with the sentiment that (as @lazywitchling says) you can't buy skill. And a lot of confusing resources can seem to imply that a beginner has to load up on unnecessary tools just to get started, which is untrue.

But I think sometimes that this push against anti-consumerism and a desire to protect beginners has warped into a sentiment that all witches are supposed to be able to validly work with 100% mental magic all the time for all purposes, which I don't believe is true.

Some people do need stuff! For lots of different reasons! And I think that should be normal and okay.