#ben 1k au

[benjimarii]

Ben 1k matching winter pfps for me and my partner :) love drawing these two so much

[ben10-au-mansion]

Ben I: don’t leave your phone unattended in the mansion.. or some kiddos will snatch it hehehe

[pocketsofdaisy]

“Don’t go…” she mumbles.

“I’ll just be a second,” he says, starting to rear back, but he halts when she grabs his wrist.

“Just until I fall asleep.”

✨

decided to do one last commission for my fic but darling, you are the only exception which the amazingly talented and sweet @cndcrd so kindly agreed to envision for me!!! this story was one of my earliest efforts to do a rom-com genre and i'm so thankful for all the love it received. it reached 1k kudos this year so this art piece was just a small way to celebrate 💙

enjoy!

———

content tags: ⚖️ corporate attorney ben x human rights lawyer rey 🧳 holiday and vacation AU 🚞 road trip on a train 🛏️ there was only one bed 💌 strangers to lovers ❤️‍🔥 sexual tension with lots of bickering 🪴 loss of family and family reconciliation

[coline7373]

hi, so I kinda fell out of the codywan fandom for a while but I really like your taste based on your fic rec lists I've found. Is there any chance you'd share a couple of fics you liked from last year? Maybe ones that aren't so obvious (like the ones with thousands of kudos are pretty easy to find). If not sorry for bothering you it's not a must of course!

Missile Toes and White Banthas by Ace Raven of Clan Chaos (Music_is_life_2788) (1K)

Lifeday comes once a year, but the trauma of family gatherings is eternal.

A holiday gift exchange written for a holiday gift exchange - it's exchange inception XD

Light-hearted lifeday gift exchange. Rex is out of ideas. Codywan is around the corner and at the end. Sweet and fun!

You be my detonator by Saerus2665 (1K)

“I see they’re just letting anyone on rescue missions these days.” Ben says this as if he’s not currently lying crumpled on his side in a pool of blood in a cold, damp basement. Cody rolls his eyes and does one last quick scan of the room, before stepping around the two bodies on the floor. Or: Agent Ben Kenobi winds up in a sticky situation after a mission gone wrong. Luckily, Cody's there for the rescue.

Spies Modern AU Codywan!!! Not Mr & Mr SMith, they are working for the same side ;) Funny, witty and filled with action. The author makes the most of those 1K

Father War by prouvairablehulk (2K)

We’re damned, after all, through fortune and flame we fall - and if you can stay, then I’ll show you the way (In which 2224 is Cody is Kote is Kote, but more emphatically; or, the Cody-is-Mithras fic that came from being obsessed with my Masters Thesis and Clone Wars at the same time)

Funny. Lovely. And a companion in my mind of that fic in reverse, where it happens to Obi-Wan. But here, it is Kote who gets a little godhood. As a treat.

most things may never happen: this one will by jaigeye (2K)

Cody looks at the bombs bursting overhead. It's friendly fire, and he's beneath it. The heat spewing from it is swift and lacks remorse. It'll melt metal through your hands. Meat doesn't mean anything to light. It goes right through. 

This one isn’t codywan but, by God, if I’m recc-ing any fic, then I’m putting down this one as well. Cody-centric. Fantastic. And I do mean fantastic. About the clones and the droids in Star Wars, and the war and Cody and…

It made me crazy. Crazy.

Must . Read.

half-octopus stewjoni biology no-longer-WIP-now-published-HERE-on-AO3! by passeridae (4.9K)

"Say that again?" Cody pauses, halfway to armouring himself after his checkup, and looks over at Helix. Surely he'd misheard. Helix, eyes rolled towards the off-white ceiling of the medbay as if praying for patience, repeats, "I said, unless you've been having some exceptionally weird sex I don't know about, you've got a prostate tumour." "Weird sex," Cody parrots, his mind helpfully replaying the most debauched trysts he'd had with his General in the past few months. 

The fandom’s usual take for Stewjon is that it’s a hybrid of space!Scotland-Japan and its people are dualsex (even though it’s more often wrongly tagged intersex, which is not the same thing). Not here. Here, stewjoni are half-octopi. They aren’t(?) were-octopi, but half-octopi. Read to find out how. I promise it works. Don’t be frightened by the tags.

What I really liked (other than this little pearl of worldbuilding), is the change to the usual mpreg trope. It’s not Obi-Wan, it’s Cody who carries. It’s not a secret, the main parties involved know about it straight away. Cody is not having A Crisis, the idea makes him happy. Just very refreshing all around.

Medical practices done right. “Normal” pregnancy happening off-screen for a value of normal. “Normal” birth. Started as crack taken seriously then somehow veers sharply off course toward the last part as it becomes bittersweet and happy and joyful and philosophical. Reflection on attachment, the circle of life and all that. Future unknown but ends on a positive note. Loved it.

Dawn by Serie11 (7K)

Obi-Wan had thought of many possibilities, of what his and Cody's life after the war would look like. A child hadn't been among them.

Trans Obi-Wan. Unplanned Pregnancy. Tatooine AU. Heartbreaking. Good ending, though. You don’t stay heartbroken, even if you keep on crying.

Your Smile In Stone by ecarian (8k)

Wooley: can we arrest people for yelling this early? There were two figures standing at the foot of General Kenobi's statue with their backs to Wooley, an adult with a hood, and a child with light hair. The child was pointing at a puddle of Temple tookas who were curled up in General Kenobi’s lap, lounging in the stone folds of his robes, the bend of his knee. Wooley: belay that. Child nuisance.

Clones overthrow the Empire and then… Well.

New Republic and all that.  Sure. They are free, which is nothing to scoff at. But the Senate still voted for the end of the Republic and the jedi are still dead. Aren’t they?

The end… My heart, oh, my heart. Prepare handkerchiefs. By the buckload.

bell tower by smoosey (smooseys) (12K)

In gesture and word and deed, Obi-Wan had made it clear that he saw, in Cody, the same inpollutable, infinite thing that lit the stars. The same Force that had Obi-Wan supplicant his whole life long, luminous under daylight, luminous in the dark, luminous candle-lit, kneeling into the song of the Light. And Cody thinks a part of him has spent the long years since, too, on his knees – in grief, in penance, in duty, in love, and in his memory. But Obi-Wan is alive.

WIP, just once chapter, but what a chapter.

Between hallucinations and dreams, a real communication through the stars with the ghost of his former general or what the spirit of Cody, the purge soldier, concocted to protect himself, a poem, a delirium, a mea cupla screamed at the stars, a fantasy dreamed by a soldier eaten away by the horrors committed by his hands, the State he represents and the atrocities we undertake by ourselves, reality or imagination, metaphor of guilt and forgiveness or real and visceral torture.

PT-2224 made a mistake. Vader makes him pay. Cody is there and not there at the same time. An escape and a voluntary march of his executioner's body towards the final destination.

Incredible. Fantastic. A trip like no other.

Facile Felicity by br1ghtmouth (14K)

Primary functions are supposed to be useful: survive against all odds; shield one’s battalion; fight until the very last breath. Cody would prefer anything besides the bleeding heart he’s been dealt. Or: the General makes plans. Cody follows.

Very fun concept! Lovely characterisation! And, of course, my favorite No-O 66 AU!

True Plain Hearts do in the Faces Rest

by SpaceWall (21.9K)

“We won’t enforce whatever they put forward,” Adi said, “In fact, we won’t fight at all unless they guarantee the clones the right to pursue and refuse soulmate bonds as every citizen of the Republic may. (...)” “You could lose us the war.” “Or we could win it,” Obi-Wan pointed out, “and win it by deserving to, rather than by giving in to that which this order stands against.” Adi’s proposal to offer the senate a bald refusal passed unanimously.

I really liked this one and it’s partly because the codywan is not necessarily romantic. It’s not tagged as such and the connection only happens at the end so I think it’s up to the reader whether they imagine it happening later on or not. It wasn’t necessary for me. 

Cody and Obi-Wan connected on the level of their souls. Nothing, not even romance, can be more meaningful than that.

It was heart wrenching at times and it made me reflect a lot. Not everyone get their happy ending. It’s also a great new take on the soulmate trope and what The Sign is (colorblind vs colored vision, tattooed first/last words, dream/pain/sexual fantasy sharing, ect. And now, A True Smile!!! Because you smile with your eyes, which are the window to the soul. Get it?)

Turn it on to a new kind of bright by rolo_rulu, Saerus2665 (41K)

Someone rolls him over onto his back. “Hnnngh…” Ben blinks his eyes open. There’s a man looking down at him, haloed in the bright light of the sun. (...) “Are—are you an angel?” Ben finds himself saying. He doesn't know if it's the heat or his poor instinctive attempt at flirting that makes him say it. The man squints at him, brow furrowing, clearly caught off guard. “Uh—are you a banana?” OR: The one in which Cody is a hot surfer and Ben’s a biologist who just so happens to be filling in for his brother at his summer job at a perfectly normal, definitely not shady, beachside banana-stand.

Some levity in this recc list!!!! There is no great plot with the Fate of the Universe at stake. This is one of these delightful type of fic that are just… fanfic-y. I don’t know how else to describe it XD

The premise is crackish. The execution is hilarious. The author and artist who work on this (check their accounts out!) were obviously having a hell of a time on this LSD trip together. It also has its sweet moments, its aching moments, moments serious or sad.

Fox is there and amazing. Vos too, stealthily. Obi-Wan is A Nerd and so loveable for it. Cody is so freaking cool. The story keeps throwing you off and making you laugh. The art blows. Uncomplicated and yet rich and varied. Have a grand old time, without becoming anxious about the Meaning of Life Itself.

Just… a cute, funny love story. Happening in a Modern Setting. This is the king of stuff I’m on ao3 for. Gold stars.

Six Months In A Leaky Boat by passeridae (47K)

The year is 1998. Australia is fucked to hell and back, but its neighbour New Zealand is doing surprisingly alright. Well, if it wasn't for the supply shortages, persistent earthquakes, and the government's increasing heavy handed attempts at censorship. Cody, a presenter at Radio Hauraki, is particularly pissed about that last thing. And he knows just what to do about it, too — all they need is a boat. Radio Hauraki started life as pirate radio back in the sixties, what's stopping them from going back on the waves? Also, if his coworker, Obi-Wan, could stop making his life a living hell that'd be great, but Cody is pretty sure the world will end for real before that happens.

Modern Dystopia happening in a 90’s Alternative Universe. Activism. Civil disobedience. The author must be from NZ itself because how else would they have so much knowledge about the slang, the culture, the places? Historical accuracy used like a punch to punctuate the story’s point. Fail gay men. Gay love.

I love the idea of a couple uniting while they are constructing something. This story, though, is less about the boat itself, but the journey they take toward that point. It’s mostly from Cody’s POV while the world, society and democracy is slowly imploding around him. 

At first, he tries to obey the law because he doesn’t want to suffer from discrimination. But as the story goes on, he just can’t follow it anymore because to do so would be to let people die when he could have helped save them. And so he fights.

Various characters take this journey too, along-side him, in the background.

In an extremely vivid New-Zealand setting, with an original format (written, audio, pictures, links to songs…), a story all the more impactful by what we’re currently all living through, two men falling in love and many people rallying for Fairness and Justice.

Amazing.

|vidur viduvasario| by littlekaracan (76K)

There, peeking out from between the grasses, was the glittering and unmistakable head of a grass snake. Cody blinked. Twice. “I – “ he began, and realized he didn’t quite know what to say. “Forgive me, are you – the grass snake, there?” The grass snake’s head twitched – as if reacting to his voice. He saw a flash of its forked tongue, and – “That would be me, yes.”

Between fairytale, folks tale Shakespearean-flavored, and TCW medieval AU. Obi-Wan is not a were-snake or cursed or about to give Cody an apple. He’s just… a snake. And not. I cannot explain too much away without spoiling the story but it was great.

No big, galactic stakes. Just Cody living in a village with his many, many brothers and meeting a snake. That’s it.

Done so well I kept thinking about it for weeks afterwards. Lovely.

|slâfst du, friedel ziere| by littlekaracan (64K)

“Help me,” he whispered, desperate for something he could not understand, and could feel the dirt slowly trickling into the emptiness of his eyes.

A moment of silence, and the voice relented.

“Come to me,” it whispered, and he wanted nothing more. “Come to me, darling, and I will do my best.”

That author decided to slay their readers without mercy and I am here for it. Willing head on the chopping block. Chopchopchop.

2224 is starting to reach the end of his shelf life. Amidst a fevered dream (or a vision?), he embarks on a final mission. That he fails, of course, just like he failed at dying.

Past the reunion of two battered traumatized men, between a journey toward self-forgiveness and the acceptance of the horror of their past and present, a healing of the minds, while Cody’s body is hurling toward death.

Happy ending, of course. I couldn’t stand it otherwise. But boy, there was a knot in my throat the whole while. And that passage where Obi-Wan [insert spolier]... I had to stop to straight up cry.

|keep the wolves away| by littlekaracan (59K, so far)

They saw her around Mos Eisley, sometimes, lingering by the repair shop where her father worked or sitting atop the crates strewn about the street. She had strange eyes - aged and watchful and inquisitive, even more so perhaps than the other children around her, although all of them had grown up too early all the same. (...) There was something important that Reva Sevander had learned throughout the last hours she spent in what once had been a safe haven, lying atop her murdered clanmates and trying not to make a sound as the stench of their deaths grew more and more oppressive - nothing, least of all tomorrow, was ensured.

I have recc-ed this author and I will recc them again! This one is a WIP and it is announced codywan, which is why I gave myself permission to cheat by putting it there since where it stopped, it hasn’t happened yet. But, if it ever becomes finished, I know it will be as brilliant as the rest. 

For someone who had many, many, many, many critics about the Kenobi Show, how they created the character of Reva (who, by all right, should have been awesome) and that hasn’t found a fic where I was able to enjoy her, I was absolutely bowled over by how much it made me root for her.

Yoda and Obi-Wan go to the Temple, before they decide to split to fight Sidious and Anakin respectively. They find Reva. They pick her up. And then, of course, someone has to take her with them when they decide to hide. Spoiler alert: it’s not Yoda.

It’s told from the POV of Reva and Obi-Wan broke my heart as well as made me want to shake him until his teeth rattle. I would be hard pressed to find a child in a fanfic described and characterized so authentically. Obi-Wan goes straight on the Depression Train, like in the show, but he can’t just lie down and let himself starve and stew in his nightmares, because there’s a child who depends on him. Two jedi in a post-jedi world. One who should be starting their journey, but didn’t, and one who should be passing the flame to the next generation, but can’t. Jfc.

The End!

That’s it folks.

When I received the ask for a codywan recc list, I was in a waning enthusiasm period for codywan fics (not the ship itself!).

Because I’m very picky and I have dozens upon dozens of criterias for codywan “fics I loved so much I bookmark them and recommend them to everyone”. I could read literally all week sometimes and not find one fic that meet all these (very subjective and personal, mind you!) criterias.

It’s not ungratefulness for people writing fics (are you kidding?), it’s a matter of taste. Without new canon being produced, fandom/ship tend to stagnate a bit in terms of narrative after a while. It happens to literally every fandom I have been a part of and is no critic of anyone or anything. That’s just the nature of things.

But, well. Then, the number of fics that scratch all my itches and that I haven’t read yet start to get smaller and smaller until, to find new gems, I have to plow through hundreds of fics first.

But I considered it a challenge to myself and my habits and accepted it gladly! To shake things up and find actual new stuff, I put the restriction on myself to look only for fics last updated between 2023 and 2024.

Because I already made a recc list in 2022 and I wanted to give what I hadn’t seen yet a chance.

As you can see, some truly amazing stuff came out of this! If with this list I manage to make you discover new fics, I will consider it worth it!

At the time I am writing this, there’s still plenty of fics downloaded and waiting to be read on my e-reader. But we’re reaching the end of the year so I’m stopping it there so that people can enjoy the fics over the holidays.

If I find new things, I will edit it ;) As always, suggestions are always welcome too!

Meanwhile, enjoy, leave kudos for the authors, and happy reading!!!!

[inklore]

garage rooftop

premise: the lines of friendship or something more grow more blurry the longer your eyes move from each mole, his cheek bones, his dark eyes, his lips. and you really don't understand why the two of you hadn't become something more ages ago.

pairing: ben solo x (f)reader

word count: 1k

contents: college au, fluff like this is nothing but fluff with one sexual innuendo and that's it, friends to lovers, quick mention of han being a lackluster dad sorry it's for the plot.

note: let's ignore that i actually wrote this back in april and just never got around to editing it but now that i'm in my driver era i had to come back to it. the title is from this song that i highly rec listening to while reading <3

The way his face morphs into something that was once joyful and silly—the blissed high that paints your cheeks red from laughing too hard over being overheated from how weightless it feels to be laying on the roof of your apartment building. The space decked out with rugs, blankets, and cushions from past and current tenants, mostly college kids like yourselves. 

Making it the perfect place to get high and look up at the sky at night. The city lights outshine the stars, but the clouds—and the strain of ganja Poe recently snagged from his dealer—give the same ethereal effect. 

“Why haven’t we ever...”

“Ever what, Solo? Dated?” There’s a pause between your words, and a slow, sly smirk moves across your lips as you look over at him. “Fucked?” 

The blush painting his cheeks quickly moves down to his neck as he shakes his head in laughter, biting his lower lip to hide whatever feelings are currently making him look like a shy schoolboy—something he was far from. 

It’s the “both. Why haven’t we done any of it?” That makes you both fall silent. That makes the joyfulness fade and something else fill the air the longer the silence spreads between the two of you. 

And it’s not the weirdest question or the wildest thing that’s come out of either of your mouths. 

It’s a question that makes you wonder, why? Seriously why? With the longer you stare at him, the more you take in the nervous tick of his chiseled jaw. The way his dark hair falls into his face each time he laughs and he has to continuously push it out of his eyes. How the crook of his nose looks oddly kissable and more attractive than you’ve noticed it before when it’s this close to your face. 

When the haze from the weed is making your body feel limitless and swoony. 

It’s a feeling that has you turning on your side. Putting a hand under your head shifts your body closer to Ben’s. Smiling when he doesn’t act phased in mirroring you, his body moving in the same motions and position as yours. Now putting the two of you so close that you can feel his breath hit your face, and the space between your legs barely exists without some part of him touching it. 

The two of you had been friends for forever, it seemed. Stuck in the woes of academia, making your parents proud does that to you. Makes you lose track of time and forget how the two of you became friends after getting into an argument over a Hamlet book in the library. 

A fight Finn quickly broke up, but Poe enthusiastically cheered on. 

The lot of you—Rose and Rey included—became inseparable after that day. Something that didn’t have a timestamp or expiration in your mind. It just happened. 

And now you have four best friends, and you’re coming to the conclusion that you’ve possibly liked one more than that. The lines of friendship or something more growing more and more blurry the longer your eyes moved from each mole, each scar, and each strand of hair. His cheek bones, his dark eyes, his lips. And you really don't understand why the two of you hadn’t become something more ages ago.

“Have you wanted to?” 

“The fact that you’re asking me tells me that you’ve never noticed. I’m not that subtle.” 

“Nose stuck in a book at all times, Ben, not subtle?” You make a sarcastic face, “yeah, who would ever think you’re subtle?” 

His knee nudges your thigh as his cheeks rise in that smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. “You think I’d let Poe or Rey borrow my stuff? Steal my takeout from the fridge—which I know you do—without consequence?”

“In their defense, Poe and Rey have three late library books from two years ago and only you and I like the takeout you get from the bodega on the corner, so…it’s not really a fair asses-”

The squeal that comes from his fingers digging into your sides, pinching the skin at your hip and rib bones, fills the air and knocks the wind out of you all at the same time as you realize the position the two of you have wrestled yourselves in. 

Strands of dark hair moving against your forehead, your fingers instinctively reach up to brush the strands from both of your faces. Ben’s lips so close to yours that all it would take is a heavy breath and you’d be kissing. The relaxing rhythm of your heart now feeling like a hammer in your chest. 

Ben’s fingers run along your jawline, resting at your chin. 

“What if we did?” He asks. Searches your face for any reaction or indication that the subject should be changed. That he should stop asking, and the two of you should move away and pretend like this never happened. Go back to how things were—which was clearly not subtle and most definitely screaming ‘I’m in love with my best friend’. 

“Why have you never asked until now?” You answer with a question. 

“Losing my best friend is not the traumatic life experience I’d like to put on my resume beside divorced parents and an absent father.” He jokes, his smile playful, as the pad of his thumb draws small circles against the skin of your jaw. 

“No wonder you’re unemployed.” The two of you laugh, breaths mingling in the joys of this moment. Of the jokes that come easy and the touches that seem to come even easier. But then there's silence, and you’re leaning closer to him, a feathering touch of your lips against his as you murmur, “maybe you should stop being so afraid, Ben Solo. And have me.” 

And if you’ve ever felt like there was something missing—some cataclysmic event in your life that could rewire your nervous system and make you feel like you’ve been barely making it, your heart barely beating and keeping you alive: Ben’s mouth is the puzzle piece as he brings your mouths together in a bruising kiss. 

[autisticandroids]

au fics part two: canon-a-little-to-the-left

alright i'm a little late to the current round of @spnficrecfest. on account of I Hauve Covid. that's also why i missed the long fic / short fic round, and i will go back and do that at some point, but not yet. anyway. two fic rec lists for this round. one for true aus, and one for canon-a-little-to-the-left aus.

i may not be a huge fan of traditional aus, but i'm an absolute aficionado of things that relate to canon but put a rather different spin on it. i have been looking forward to this day (rubs my little hands together).

in order of wordcount:

patchwork drapery of dreams by tigriswolf, 1k, chose not to warn

a decade or so later, victor henriksen catches ben braeden. gen.

orison by whereupon, 2k, mcd

after it all ends, cas baptises dean. destiel.

kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep by lise, 4k, chose not to warn

a disturbing little story. it's all in the context. sam/lucifer.

sleepwalking the life fantastic by insanetrolllogic, 5k, chose not to warn

gen. it's 1995 and sam wakes up normal.

cheyenne by deadlybride, 8k, mcd

victor henriksen and sam winchester in the lebanon alternate universe. gen.

the following story takes place at night by beetlebeverage, 12k, chose not to warn

this one blew my socks off. destiel, but very strange. a season two au. the winchesters come across a cult.

i would most especially recommend this one if you're a fan of the first church at the end of the world, which should tbh also be on this list, but it's on my endverse list instead.

the white whale. by orange_crushed, 14k, violence and chose not to warn

generations in the future, cas still works with winchesters.

right of conquest should also objectively be on here but i recced it already [sob emoji].

freakshow by mme_yersinia, 26k

stanford era dean, and an angel in a cage. destiel.

the inexhaustible silence of houses by askance, 31k, mcd

some things are fandom classics for a reason. a destiel haunting.

back road, black road by eden22, 167k, violence warning

so can i confess something? i'm actually only about halfway through reading this, currently. which i feel like is against the spirit of a fic rec list. i thought of trying to put on a burst of speed and finish it specifically to rec it, but it's simply too long for that. and i just can't not rec it, it's way too good.

anyway, this fic is balls to the wall insane. perfect "what if the early seasons actually had the vibes they pretend to" story. specifically, kind of a "what if born under a bad sign was good and also was the entirety of seasons one and two" thing.

sam never made it to stanford, and when dean goes to pick him up, he isn't there. the level of gore and body horror in this fic raised my eyebrows, and you guys know me. i'm no slouch. half is dean pov, half is sam pov. the sam pov is actually my favorite because it's so insane and fucked. oh and it's also destiel.

[leviscolwill]

i can see you

pairing: ben chilwell x fem!reader

summary: after you lost your hotel room key you're forced to ask your friend ben to share his bed with you (wc: 1k)

contents: fluff, coworkers au / workplace romance, idiots crushing on each other, one use of y/n sorry 🏃‍♀️

notes: please be indulgent w this,, i haven't written in 2 years so i'm a bit rusty. also english is not my first language so my apologies for any grammar mistakes that will make you want to gouge your eyes out. reblogs & feedback are very veryyyyy appreciated as always <3

ps: i tried sum with the dividers tell me if they're ugly asf and i'll delete bc idk how to feel abt them 💀

now playing: i can see you by taylor swift (speak now)

"are you sure you don't mind me staying here tonight ?" you didn't want to force ben into sharing his room, but as soon as you noticed your hotel room card was gone, he offered his room for the night.

"i wouldn't offer if i did."

he had a point. not that you would ever say it out loud, so you simply kept silent. truth be told, today was exhausting, you had to run left and right while every player fulfilled their media duties, and everything felt 10 times more intense in the heat of the summer.

you still felt anxious at the idea of sharing a bed with ben. the line between 'coworkers-that-get-along-well' and 'something more' blurred a little bit too much whenever you were with ben. you'd find yourself looking at him a little bit more than you'd look at other players and thinking about him in a way a friend shouldn't, let alone someone who works for his team should.

"i can practically hear your thoughts you know ?" ben chuckled, he got to know you well throughout the last two seasons you worked at chelsea, well enough to feel you hesitating over the proposal.

"i can sleep on the floor if that makes you more comfortable."

"i'm not making you sleep on the floor when i'm the one who lost my card in the first place" you sighed. you were both adults that could share a bed and not make it weird, right ?

"do you have any spare shirt i could borrow ?" after ben searched through his baggage that seemed untouched since touchdown, he handed you a t-shirt and some shorts.

you made your way to his bathroom after muttering a quick 'thank you'.

you came out of his bathroom battling against his shorts that were still too big even after adjusting them, ben couldn't hide his smile when you walked out in his clothes. he'd imagined you in his shirt more times than he'd like to admit.

"i'll get ready for bed, make yourself comfortable." he said pointing at his bed. thankfully it was more than enough for two people, actually, his bed was probably bigger than yours, perks of being a football player probably.

after staying on your phone to distract yourself from the fact you were sharing a bed with your crush, a very shirtless ben came out of the bathroom and laid on his side of the bed. the only thing that you could do now was hoping for the red on your cheeks to fade as quickly as humanly possible.

to you, it was obvious, he was not nearly as nervous or embarrassed as you were, it almost seemed like he'd done this a million times before. he was laying casually on his phone while you stayed close to the end of the bed, so close you were afraid you might fall at any moment.

but if you could read his mind, you'd find out ben was torn between overthinking about how he better not mess it up, and thinking about who he would tell first that he slept in the same bed as the pretty girl from work he kept rambling about.

"goodnight ben." you said in an almost whisper.

"goodnight y/n" he answered while he tried his best to fall asleep, although all he could think about was how lucky he was.

when you woke up in the morning, you were confused about the unfamiliar setting for the first few seconds but quickly remembered the events of last night. you don't even know what awakened you. was it the sun peeking through the curtains ? the light snoring you could hear coming from above your head ? or the heat of the body laying right next to you ? then you silently panicked sensing how close you were to ben, his head resting on top of your hair, his features soft as he was still asleep.

but you took the time to fully appreciate the moment that was definitely too intimate for two coworkers, or even two friends. listening to ben's heartbeat and tracing his features after freeing yourself from one of his arms that kept you close to him.

after a few minutes he opened his eyes, and stretched, while pulling you right next to him.

"slept well ?" he asked with a tired smile on his face, while his fingers traced up and down your bare arm.

you almost wanted to tell him that you had the best sleep of your life, in hopes that he'll keep you this close for longer, but chose against it.

"yes, slept well, maybe i would've slept even better if you didn't snore this loud"

he faked a offended expression and attacked you with his pillow, messing your hair even more.

"no, no, no, i'm sorry, please stop, i didn't mean that." you tried to plead out of breath.

ben was feeling merciful, he helped you seat up on his bed and you spent about half an hour talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

"i better go to the reception to get a new card." you said while ben watched you collect your clothes with a lovesick smile attached to his face.

"let me know if you lose your new card, i'll gladly share my bed with you again."

with that, you closed ben's door with one last look at him, his messy hair and his (very) unmade bed, smiling to yourself for the rest of the morning.

[esther-dot]

Pride & Prejudice AUs

You Look Like A Movie, You Sound Like A Song 2k @jonsastan

She had met Jon Targaryen there. It was a complete accident and at first, Sansa thought, a complete misfortune. He was drenched from an impromptu swim in his pond, and she was flustered, not wanting him to think she was vying for his attention. But as she had attempted to make her hurried escape, he had found her and invited her parents to stroll with him around the gardens. He had offered her kindness, and thoughtfulness, he had talked with her parents, discussed the present state of politics with her father and chatted knowledgeably about gardens with her mother.

A Certain Step Toward Falling in Love 2k by @comma-splice

Jon Snow returns North after departing abruptly one year ago.

The Bennet Sisters - a P&P AU comic by @melinaillustrations

P&P Gifset by @sardoniyx, P&P Gifset by @dcbicki, P&P Gifset by deactivated

Persuasion AUs

Who Loves Longest, Who loves Best 1k by @ladysaruka

After refusing him years ago, Sansa sees her cousin once again.

Persuasion edits one, two , three by @glueck

Mansfield Park AUs

Half Agony, Half Hope 10k, incomplete by @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth

After the death of his disgraced mother, Jon Snow is taken in by his uncle's family, the Starks of Winterfell. He grows up alongside his cousins, including the beautiful and kind-hearted Sansa, but knowing he can never truly be their equal, he fears he has little choice but to leave the place he's come to call home. corresponding moodboard

Catch Me If You Can 34k (P&P and Emma inspired too) by @ben-barnes-is-my-husband

Set in the countryside of Regency England, Jon Snow has been in love with Sansa Stark for as long as he can remember. He wants her as his wife, but Sansa is not sure she wants to be a wife at all, and she knows she doesn’t want to marry the pragmatic and boring Jon. She’d rather help Theon Greyjoy come out of his shell and play matchmaker. But then Jaime Lannister comes to town and Jon finds he has some serious competition for Sansa…

Moments Like This (So Few and Far Between) 3k by @lydiamartenism

Mama and Papa left the house to go pick up Jon, the son of her father’s oldest friend. Three weeks ago, the phone rang and their parent’s announced that Jon would be coming to live with them since his mother passed away and had no one else to take care of him.

Northanger Abbey AUs

The Lady in White 7k by @kissed-by-circe

Dragonstone Manor had looked like it had woken only a few days earlier, after a slumber of several years, if not decades, and Sansa had felt like the heroine of a gothic novel, a mysterious, naive girl with a dark past or a dark secret, arriving at the opening scene of the most dramatic story of all times. Or Sansa as Katherine Morland in a Jane Eyre Setting.

Sense & Sensibility AUs

In Such Jocund Company 2k @maybetwice

It would be no matter at all for Captain Snow to return to the north after seven months’ absence, had Sansa’s heart not changed entirely in that time. A remix of Colonel Brandon and Marianne Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility.

Emma & Clueless AUs

if i loved you less 2k by @ladystarks

Her father has, often and fondly, told Sansa that she and Mr. Snow bite at each other like wolves, but he hardly understood that their verbal sparring was as exhilarating as a sport well done, or a match coming together under Sansa’s skilled hands. corresponding artwork

Sansa: A NOVEL in Five Parts 15k by @imagineagreatadventure

Sansa Stark, handsome, clever, rich, hopes to establish herself as her town's foremost matchmaker. After seeing her governess Miss Shae married to the rich and clever Mr. Tyrion Lannister, she feels as though she deserves that title. Her dear friend and cousin, Jon Targaryen, heartily disagrees and is quite proven right when Sansa sets her sights on marrying off her newest and dearest friend Jeyne Poole to the vicar Mr. Baelish.

A Baldwin and a Betty 2k

Jon drives to the Valley to give Sansa a ride home.

Emma AU art by @dcvahkiin and Clueless art by wolvesofspring

Emma Gifset by @dcbicki

General Regency AUs

No Notion of Loving by Halves 2k @darkmagyk

The Stark cousin, Jon, goes home to discuss matters concerning the entail on Winterfell. In which Jon is a really good guy, and I flagrantly disregard how entails actually work.

Manners and Misunderstandings 114k, WIP by @x-winging-it

The Stark sisters have travelled all the way to London to begin their first season, leaving behind the familiar world of Winterfell Hall and a disappointed Jon Stark- with whom the eldest Miss Stark has been convinced to break off a connection. In London they join family friends the Baratheons and the fashionable young Tyrells in a world of romance and balls. Meanwhile Gendry Waters has been plucked out of the life he knew to become his ailing father's heir, Robb, Theon and later Rickon embark on military careers in the Napoleonic wars, and their aunt Lysa makes a foolish marriage. When tragedy hits the family, they must come together, learning how manners may hide monsters and the best people are often those misunderstood by society.

You Could Draw Me to the Gallows 2k by @azulaahai

After having eloped from home with and subsequently been abandoned by wealthy heir Joffrey Baratheon, Sansa Stark refuses to come home. Having caused a scandal that is sure to prevent her from ever marrying, she is adamant not to bring further shame to the family name by returning to Winterfell. Until, that is, a visitor comes to her - Jon Snow, an old family friend, determined to bring Sansa with him back north. He has a solution to offer her - a proposal with the potential to change both of their lives.

A Perilous Dance Indeed & fiercely, tenderly and eternally 27k by @amymel86

He should either look away or interrupt this improper little meeting, he knows. For some unfathomable reason, he does neither. The two look far too intimate for Jon’s liking, although he feels he should have come to expect it to be so. A romantic like Sansa – however proper she is – would simply adore overt flirtations and a secret tête-à-tête. Even from where he stands, Jon can see the way in which she has stars set in her eyes like precious cut stones. He only hopes the man for whom they shine is deserving of it. *** Cousin Jon is to inherit Winterfell Manor and its estate after the untimely death of his uncle leaves a widow and two daughters. Sansa is expectant of an imminent proposal from her dear beau, Harrold Hardyng and everything will be absolutely, stunningly, utterly fine.

Waiting for Your Slippered Feet 49k by @wintry-ritu

Lady Sansa Stark has always looked forward to her come-out season in London, the balls, the rides in Hyde Park, evenings at Vauxhall, the romance and wonder of it all. Never had she imagined that it would happen like this, with her parents gone and her younger siblings underfoot. Now, all Sansa wants is for it all to be over quickly so she can get back to Winterfell. She needs a kind, amiable man who will be brave enough to take on his wife's siblings. That should not be so hard to find in London, should it? And while she is most grateful for Jon Targaryen's help, why must her cousin be so distracting?

To Make You Love Me 16k incomplete and orphaned

When Ned Stark dies, he leaves behind his wife, two daughters, and his family’s estate at Winterfell. What follows is a series of unwanted marriage proposals, houseguests who far outstay their welcome, and Arya parading around in a comically large hat and an oil-paint mustache as she declares herself the new ‘Lord of Winterfell,’ in an attempt to dissuade her sister’s suitors. However, when Mr. Jon Snow — their distant cousin and Ned’s appointed heir to the estate — comes to call, an oil-paint mustache is hardly enough to deter him from courting Miss Sansa Stark. And she thinks, perhaps, that a man could marry her for love more than her claim, after all.

Mine for a Season 101k by @vivilove-jonsa

Colonel Jon Targaryen is a single man in possession of a good fortune who claims no interest in finding himself a wife. With his war wounds, he thinks no young lady would want him anyway for anything beyond the allure of his pocketbook. Fortunately and unbeknownst to him, Fate has chosen to find a wife for him and will even deliver her right to his doorstep. Taking on the responsibility of shepherding a young lady about for a Season in London is not at all what Jon had wished to do but he had accepted out of a sense of familial duty. However, once he meets Sansa again after only having met her years ago as a child, he may not consider it a duty so much as a torment.

a lady of winterfell 185k, WIP by @wandering-scavenger

She bit her lip and exhaled shakily, “If you are so sickened by the prospect of marrying me, we should be able to obtain an annulment easily enough with your father’s connections.” “I will do no such thing.” he snapped, refusing to look at her. Sansa had never felt more rejected than she did at that moment. Her past experiences of being humiliated at the hand of Joffrey did not feel as painful as this. Even so, she could not allow him to see the weakness in her, not now. “I will not be left out, Jon.” she said, tilting her chin up to look down at him. He grimaced. They were silent for longer than she cared to count, but each second that he did not speak chipped away at her resolve and her ability to withhold her tears. Jon did not want her, and she could not blame him. Who could ever want her? It should not have distressed her as much as it did. She was never his favourite sister, she who treated him as a stranger since she was old enough to understand what a bastard was. A tear slipped down to her face until she tasted the salt of it on her lips. “If we marry, we will remain so.” corresponding gifset

moth's wings 47k by @cellsshapedlikestars

Sansa was determined to convince her aunt to let Arya debut, which is how she finds herself in her current predicament. “Who is this secret gentleman who has asked for your hand?” Aunt Lysa asks, and Sansa knows from her tone that she does not believe. (She has every right not to believe, for it is not true.) And then Sansa does something very, very foolish. She says a name. “The Duke of Dragonstone!” Or, Sansa fakes an engagement so that Arya can debut and marry the man she loves. The only problem? Her fake fiance just so happens to be in the city when he was not supposed to be.

An Understanding 2k, WIP by @thewolvescalledmehome

At the start of Sansa Stark's third London Season, she decides it will be her last. She will secure a husband by the end of the final ball. Jon Snow is new to the London Season and high society. He never expected to inherit money or property from an unknown uncle. When they meet at a ball, Sansa gets an idea.

you're in my blood like holy wine 72k

Sansa finds it difficult to look at Jon’s face, with its weathered lines and cragginess. It is the face of the North and a face that northerners trust; the face of Sansa’s brothers and her father, who had been loved and respected by their tenants as their forefathers had been when they were kings. How can Sansa feel anything but resentment, looking into that face and knowing that all of her years of hard work will never earn her the respect that that profile engenders within seconds? But she does. It is a small, burning coal of something that must be smothered.

PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALES - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS - POST CANON

[catacombbee]

school bus graveyard headcanons because im thinking about them

and because im projecting

just general / random headcanons

Tyler has arachnophobia and entomophobia. creepy crawlies are a HARD NO for Mr. Hernandez. Jackass bullies? No problem. Phantoms trying to eat him? Easy. Tree? Been there, done that. Fucking spiders? get it the FUCK away. mans has a visceral skin crawling reaction to even SEEING something creepy crawlie. it's one of the only things that makes him seriously panic other than yk someone being hurt

Ashlyn has autism yes this is basically canon i think. BUT Ashlyn has a lot of texture sensitivities both with clothes and with food. itchy scratchy clothes are a no. she cannot stand t-shirts keeping their tags they rub and scratch her neck and it makes her want to scream. she cuts the tags out before wearing anything. and food she can't have anything too squishy or tough or else she just loses her appetite entirely.

^^ to build on the clothing tags. everyone else in the group cuts the tags out of their jackets/hoodies and some shirts so if Ashlyn wants to borrow something she can be comfortable

Aiden is down bad for someone wearing his clothes. this can apply to any ship you want, i like him with Ashlyn Tyler or Logan (ive like never seen any talk abt Aidgan? Loden?) but regardless. whoever it is Aiden likes he gets so giddy butterflies giggly seeing someone wear his clothes. this is moreso for Ashlyn or maybe Logan because Ashlyn is so much smaller than Aiden that his sweatshirt would probably hang off her and Aiden would just abdjshfkefbns she's so cute!! this is mostly an Aidlyn hc for me but Logan would also be cute in anyone else's sweatshirt

uh if it's not clear by now im a multishipper ive said it before BUT i like Tyben a lot. they find calm and quiet in each other and bond through expressing themselves through something much healthier: music. i adore Tyben. AND because of Ben in the canvas webtoon: Tyler calls him ladybug. "Hey ladybug" "It's okay ladybug ive got you" "ladybug, you okay?"

kinda related to previous one but like blush hc. Ben does not blush. maybe a little pink on his cheeks. but his EARS. his ears get so RED when he's angry or when he's flustered. his face might be 😐 but you look at his ears and they're red you know he's flustered

ALSO everyone learned ASL for Ben so he didn't have to just use notes n stuff. Aiden was already learning but everyone else picked up on it

Logan likes compact spaces, they male him feel safe and secure. Like the tire! He feels very nice and snuggly in his tire. But also like. under beds. in closets (haha). one time they played hide and seek in Aiden's house and Logan won because he fell asleep curled up in an empty cabinet. Logan loves being little spoon because he just fits snugly in everyone's arms

it's been mentioned Tyler plays guitar, but i hc that he's also a really good artist. because he got into baseball for a scholarship he's kinda dropped both art and music, but in getting to know the others and especially Ben he gets back into playing music which leads to him drawing again. he doodles pictures of his friends and they realize what a good artist he is. that's how he realizes he actually has passion for creativity and decides he wants to be a tattoo artist.

(i was writing a tyden tattoo artist Tyler au on a reblog draft from a post @\the-killies made and like forgot abt it. someone peer pressure me if you think that sounds like snth you wanna read. it was probably over 1k words by the time i forgor)

Taylor likes mechanics (cus. the club) but she also knows some programming. this is solely because I think Taylor would like making little robots just for fun. Aiden would beg her to make him a little robot like that one companion toy robot Cosmo

in canvas sbg Logan brought a bunch of clothes for them to wear in the pictures/videos they took. so. Logan likes cosplay and renn faires. History is one of his favorite subjects (the other being science. english/literature is a very close third. he doesn't dislike math just isn't his favorite) so he has a lot of clothes from different time periods because of the renn faires he's been to.

This is a really unhinged headcanon and isn't something ive ever thought about before but thinking about Logan having outfits and stuff made me think who would be the most likely to be a furry. and no not Logan. it would be Aiden. hes rich enough to splurge on his fursuit. THIS IS A JOKE I DONT HC HIM AS A FURRY THIS IS A "WHOS MOST LIKELY TO" PLEAS

Aiden's favorite subject is history, he likes reading about wars but he also enjoys learning about other cultures and differences from how we live in modern day America. Aiden would probably study anthropology just for the fun of it. he and Logan bond over their love of history. Aiden can't remember what he had for lunch yesterday but he can tell you every little detail he knows about the Civil War start to finish, dates and names and locations and all.

this is a really weird hc but. Ashlyn is an amazing rapper. there was a karaoke night and one song someone did had a rap part coming up and they were like ahaha it's too fast for me and Ashlyn just stood up. took the mic. and fucking blew everyone's minds. and then she sat down like she didnt just rock their world

this last bit is self indulgent. assuming the phantom world things don't last forever, the kids get therapy eventually :D

^^ building on that, Ben specifically, he lives in my head rent free. i love him sm. Ben gets therapy for not just the phantom world things but everything beforehand. slowly and surely, starting with Aiden and Lily and maybe whichever person he's shipped with, he starts talking again. Some days are better than others, sometimes he gets quiet again, other times he goes for days talking as much as anyone (except aiden he yaps.) everyone almost cries when Ben is doing something and begins singing to himself because they realize he's better

im gonna do like gender & sexuality headcanons too,,, maybe later. might do silly ship hcs too cus i ship so many pairings here

[queenendless]

🔞✨️💕OPEN COMMISSIONS FOR NSFW SHORT SMUT ✨️ 💕 🔞

Okay everyone.

I NEED COMMISSIONS.

7 MONTHS WITHOUT THEM … it hurts.

Especially NOW because my bank accounts total around $35 left cause of monthly fees left so they're close to shutting down.

And just looking for full time employment for college dropouts with physical disability and no work experience is giving me anxiety and headaches all over again.

Honestly at this point I should start a Patreon for my writing. Maybe you could leave me suggestions, advice, and sites that don't charge you if I plan on setting up something for freelancing art and writing wise. Like merch. Prints. Ergo how to supply myself cause I'm very poor as fuck tbh irl.

ANYWAY!

I'm offering to write SHORT SMUT pieces!

100 words for $5.00 USD

200 words for $10.00 USD

*$5.00 USD added for every 100 words — I WILL WILLINGLY WRITE UP TO 1K WORDS AT MOST*

You can privately message me here on tumblr to brainstorm and work out said commissions.

*I ONLY ACCEPT PAYMENT THROUGH CASHAPP cause PayPal didn't work out and Cashapp don't take fees from payments.

*I ALSO ONLY ACCEPT PAYMENT UP FRONT BEFORE WORKING ON SAID COMMISSIONS.

I WILL use Google Docs to write said commissions.

I will email you your finalized commissions through Gmail/email and I will ONLY post your commissions on my tumblr blogs and my other sites like Wattpad and Quotev if you give me permission to.

SHOWS I WILL WRITE FOR:

Code Geass

Death Note

Yugioh DM

My Hero Academia

Jujutsu Kaisen

Persona 3, 4, and 5

Tokyo Revengers

Demon Slayer

Twisted Wonderland

Ben 10

I WILL WRITE ABOUT:

Character(s) x Reader, Character x Character, Character x OC

Romance/fluff

Angst

Hurt/comfort

AUs/what ifs/Canon divergence/etc.

BDSM (just nothing too extreme; depends on your request).

Polyamory/harem/GROUP BANG ⤵️

Crack/what if crossovers between two or more of the shows I've chosen to write for for this deal.

I WILL NOT WRITE ABOUT:

Rape/Non Con/SA

Incest

Beastiality

Murder/DEATH

ANY EXTREME TOPICS ALONG THOSE LINES!

.

.

.

Honestly I hope I get commissioned much more than ever before.

Cause if not then I don't know where to go from there.

So if you're interested or know people that do, then please spread the word. Reblog, like, comment, share.

I'll let those on my wattpad, quotev, and twitter know.

I 🙏 that things work out.

[hendolish]

England NT Fic Recs ♡

never know where to start for a pairing or you're new to england nt rpf? here's a shameless collection of my favourite fics to give you a head start 🫶🏻 ———

Jack Grealish/Jordan Henderson

melt by inlovewithnight (8k)

soulmate au where you feel everything your soulmate does and can't bear being too far away from each other. they're just so at ease and in love with each other in this. probably my favourite hendolish fic! <3

About as subtle as an earthquake, I know by Lizz_88 (Bluejay00) (68k)

jack's a stripper, jordan's himself. so much more than what it says on the tin! all the characters are super complex and it takes a lot of work for these two to get together (with no shortage of lap dances and smut along the way) <3

Calm Before The Storm by preachingdoll (6k)

post-euro 2020 heartbreak jack needs a bit of help coping. jordan's there to offer a helping hand... the smut and dirty talk is 10/10

best worst behaviour by Bellelaide (25k)

kind of a hendolish classic, jordan puts bratty jack in his place.

♡

John Stones/Jordan Pickford

Sun City AU by Bellelaide (series, 40k)

honestly one of my favourite fics ever, let alone footie-wise. jordan's on a very british all-inclusive holiday at a hotel where john works. the vibes are just immaculate, you can visualise everything so clearly and there's so much depth to their characters!

Ice Melts by Bellelaide (7k)

enemies to lovers kinda? john doesn't think much of jordan before the 2018 wc but the further they get in the tournament, the closer they become. amazing characterisation and banter as always.

Helping Hand by slatkomore (14k)

with john's career ended abruptly by an injury, he turns to coaching instead and soon becomes the england u19s manager where he meets the goalkeeper coach, jordan pickford...

your world cup or mine? by Bellelaide (15k)

john goes to sleep at the 2022 wc and wakes up back in 2018 where he and jordan aren't together and barely friends. such an interesting concept and dynamic!

♡

Jack Grealish/John Stones

The Things We Did and Didn't Do by InTheFicOfIt (series, 104k)

john and jack sleep together in the aftermath of the euros, the following fic explores everything that comes after, including jack moving to man city and their friends finding out. i'm never usually tempted by this pairing but this fic is so damn good! it's written so wonderfully and there's so much of it- i couldn't put it down!

♡

Ben white/Aaron Ramsdale

happy together by foxholecourts (1k)

this fic perfectly encapsulates their vibe for me. the back and forth between the two of them is just delightful and exactly how i imagine them to be together, but it's also as equally sappy! i love these two idiots sm <3

watching you watching me by foxholecourts (2k)

ben likes to be watched... 10/10 benaaron characterisation from this author as always.

sweettalker by Anonymous (5k)

smut with a lot of dirty talk about the other arsenal lads. ben is very complex in this- an interesting take on their relationship!

I’m Not In Love by ceraunophilex (1k)

aaron falls in love immediately, ben slowly warms to him. short and sweet.

♡

Jordan Henderson/Trent Alexander-Arnold

Shake Me Into the Night by orphan_account (17k)

always hits me right in the feels. based around liverpool winning the champions league, the writing is so detailed and amazing!!

♡

Jude Bellingham/Reece James

the sun and the rainfall by ohsusie (series, 6k)

jude asks reece about some of the rumours surrounding him to help him broach a sensitive topic of his own. reece gives him some guidence. they're so sweet in this!

♡

Dele Alli/Eric Dier

In This World Of Ours by dierdele (53k)

the classic deledier best friends to lovers 2018 world cup get-together fic. you can't beat it, literally so cute oml.

♡

Marcus Rashford/Jesse Lingard

both your hands in the holes of my sweater by yvenger (jjjat3am) (3k)

this one is so much fun hehe, the ~2018 man u squad if they were a sunday league team where jesse's very confident and marcus has a huge crush on him. love the inner dialogue so, so much. ending is super cute!!

i can feel that body shake by princessrosberg (3k)

an england nt night out leads to them getting together and their first time! jesse and marcus characterisations are on point, esp the way they talk to each other <3

♡

Harry Kane/Gareth Southgate

All Good Things... by orphan_account (12k)

their established relationship is so cute in this! post-2018 wc and preparing for the euros, england team banter is perfect.

wished by orphan_account (23k)

gareth is harry's p.e teacher at school. listen… no comment... there's a reason it's the most kudos-ed southkane fic

♡

[benjimarii]

Ben 1k! Made this for my pfp on discord, and to celebrate finally getting some of his story and comic panels done! :) I hope you guys like his design, as I believe in long hair older Ben supremacy >:)

[ben10-au-mansion]

Ben I: Welcome to the mansion 1k! You’re the first to join the party!

To ask him questions make sure to put 1k or Ben 1k!

1k is by @benjimarii

[fayes-fics]

The Gift

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x pregnantfem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Modern AU. Your best friend Benedict gives you a gift in more ways than one.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, pregnant sex, pregnancy kink, dirty talk, vaginal sex, woman on top, friends with benefits, blindfold (not used during sex).

Word count: 5.1k

Build-a-blurb prompt: Benedict + smut + friends with benefits + pregnancy + blindfolds. From @queen-of-the-misfit-toys

Author's note: This is one of the prompts I got months ago in my 1k follower celebration. I’m certain this is not at all what you envisioned with this prompt; sorry, it's what my mind settled on. If you want sweeping romance, look elsewhere. This is intentionally naturalistic; I was striving for realism around the surprising development of intimacy between long-term close friends. I hope it works. Also, please excuse any inaccuracies around the pregnancy experience; I have no personal frame of reference, just what friends have shared.

It’s a rainy, dreary Wednesday when your life is turned around most unexpectedly. One of those nothing days that becomes something out of seemingly nowhere.

The week started like any other, really; the only unusual thing was on Monday when your friend Benedict asked for your spare set of keys to your flat; you acquiesced even though it seemed uncharacteristic. You trust him completely. He said something about wanting to babyproof some things for your impending arrival. The very real, very looming deadline of single parenthood is quite daunting. 

This is not how it was supposed to go.

The man who got you pregnant, your ex, turned out to be, well, spineless in the face of the reality he had willingly signed onto. He ran away to another woman around the fourth month of your pregnancy. Good riddance to bad rubbish in hindsight, traumatising as it was. 

Ever since, your friends have been the most incredible network of individuals to lean on for support, including the lovely Benedict Bridgerton. His room was opposite yours on the first day of uni, and you’ve been close friends ever since. He was rich, beautiful, bisexual and the most fun person you had ever met. You became firm friends on that first day, and you are still close fifteen years later. An initial flare of romantic feelings on your part metamorphosed into a deep, abiding mutual bond that is decidedly steadfast and deeply rooted in your life. 

So when you waddle, yes, sadly, you have reached the waddling stage of pregnancy now, into your flat after work that fateful Wednesday, you don’t expect to be greeted by an excited Benedict rocking on his heels and grinning like a madman.

“Ben…” you greet suspiciously.

“Hello!!” He fizzes with energy and enthusiastically helps you out of your coat. “How is bubs today?” He asks, nodding at your bump.

“Lovely but pain in the bum, as usual,” you answer, rubbing it. “Speaking of, it’s more like a pain in the bladder. I have to go wee. Sorry.”

“Please do,” he gestures to the bathroom door, and you step in.

“Don’t stay in the hallway,” you call through the door.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want you to hear me weeing!”

“Why not? Everyone does it,” he laughs, “but okay, okay, I’ll go to the kitchen. Need a drink?”

“Yeah, double espresso martini, please,” you jest as you fight with your clothing, deciding to just leave your maternity tights right there on the floor—a problem for future you.

“Haha,” he deadpans,  “water it is.”

“Fine,” you sigh.

When you emerge a minute later, he is holding out a glass of water just as you like, with a touch of ice and a wedge of lemon squeezed and then dropped in. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” you reach up and pat his cheek affectionately, taking the water and guzzling it slightly.

“I have a surprise for you,” his tone is jubilant.

“Oh yeah, what is it?”

“Well, I’m not going to tell you, am I?” he rolls his eyes with a chuckle and takes the glass from your hand, placing it aside.

He holds out his other hand, and there is… well, there’s a blindfold. You are very nonplussed.

“What is this about?” you ask, confused.

“I want you to wear this, please,” he smiles that trademark Benedict smile that still makes your insides melt all these years later. He knows it’s a weapon, and yet he still deploys it. You’d do anything he asks when he looks like that. And he bloody well knows it.

“Can I ask some questions first?”

“Of course.”

“Are we leaving the flat again? Cos if we are, you’ll have to fight my shoes back onto my bloody feet. I don’t have the energy.”

“No, we are staying right here.”

“Ok, next question, do you promise not to blindfold me and then just leave? I’ll be pissed off,” you warn.

“That’s a shitty thing to do to anyone,” he frowns, “I would never do that,” he vows.

“As if you couldn’t guess, that question comes from bitter experience,” you huff wryly. 

“Who? I will track them down and kick them in the nuts.” Funny how he instantly knows it’s about a man. His jaw is ticked, and his usual chivalry has your heart bloom just a fraction.

“You’re a great friend,” you obfuscate, patting his hand. Not wanting to add fuel to the hindsight red flag fire that is your ex, you change tack. “Come on then, let's do this.”

You allow him to put the blindfold on you; he is so gentle as he does so, ensuring your hair does not catch on the elastic. Just that simple, thoughtful thing has you slightly maudlin; pregnancy is undoubtedly an emotional rollercoaster. Last week you cried at a bus stop poster. Not an elegantly shed tear, full-on tears rolling. Everyone else waiting at the stop seemed to move away a few feet, their eyes saying, ‘Beware of strange pregnant lady’. His warm hand slots into yours, bringing you back to the present. 

“Hey, no peeking!” he murmurs as you tilt your head back and attempt to look under the blindfold.

“What is going on, Benedict?” you whisper, the darkness suddenly making you quiet and a strange butterflies sensation in your belly as he leads you gently by the hand across your flat.

“I told you I have a present for you, and I wanted it to be a surprise,” he answers enigmatically.

“You really had to blindfold me?” you shoot back.

“Yes, it's all part of the surprise,” he chuckles.

He opens the door to what you think is your guest room. You are temporarily confused when the number of steps he takes usually would mean you’d have walked right into your guest bed by now. The very one he often crashes in. It reminds you, you need to get some quotes for turning this room into a nursery before it’s too late. Then he interrupts your once again wayward train of thought.

“I’ve been wondering for a long time what gift I can give you for this brave new adventure you are embarking on,” he says with a sincerity that intrigues you. “I wanted it to be something lasting and meaningful, and this is what I came up with. I hope you like it.”

His tone almost seems nervous as he tugs at the blindfold and removes it from your face.

“Surprise!”  he calls quietly and steps back with a flourish.

Your eyes squint as you adjust then...

Speechless.

Utterly speechless.

He has not babyproofed your flat—the wonderful arsehole has built you a nursery.

Gone are all the usual contents of the room; in their place is what looks like every piece on your wishlist—the crib, the changing table, the wardrobe, the rocking chair, and even the rug, curtains and lamps you wanted. 

But what catches your eye most is the walls. On that plain light beige canvas, he has handpainted the most gorgeous animal safari in muted, soft tones, rounded, adorable cartoon versions of elephants, giraffes, big cats, antelope and hippos interspersed amongst trees, grasslands and watering holes. It is simply breathtaking—overwhelming and so magnificent.

“Now I can’t take full credit,” he explains meekly. “We all pitched in to buy the items, and I had some people deliver and assemble it today as I painted.”

You can’t help it. You start to sob. Not sweet, ladylike tears, body-wracking ugly sobs. You have to grab his arm to stay on your feet.

“Oh god, are you ok?” his tone filled with concern, “shit, was this wrong?”

“No, no, no, no, no!! Ben,” you cry, “this is… I have no words; I just…” you start to sob again, incapable of words, tears rolling down your cheek. “This is so wonderful,” you hiccup, “look at your stunning artwork Ben; this is so, so exquisite. I… I don't deserve this.”

“Like hell you don’t,” he counters, “you are the bravest person I know; this is nothing.”

You throw your arms around him, not caring, just wanting to convey your gratitude.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” squeezing him hard as you chant into the soft skin of his neck, leaving a damp patch from your tears.

His arms wrap as tight as they can with your bump in the way, and he murmurs you are welcome in your ear so sweetly it’s impossible to resist what you do next.

You grab his jaw, push up onto your tiptoes and land a kiss squarely on his lips. You can’t blame alcohol for this irrational behaviour (your usual reason for such things); instead, you can blame pregnancy hormones, which is precisely what you will do once you pull away. But the greedy part of you just wants to take from him for a moment, to linger, to enjoy a kiss; god knows it's been months since you had one, and he doesn’t seem to be fighting you off. In fact, he is kissing you back with surprising fervour. Your lips move together, and it feels phenomenal, like the opening few bars of a delightful symphony.

“Sorry,” you whisper onto his lips, and then you fall back to your flat feet. “I’m so… god, that wasn’t at all appropriate. But no one has ever done anything this incredible for me my whole life, and I… I didn’t know how to react. Please accept my apologies.”

You finally look up at him again, and there is something in his eyes that compels you not to look away.

“No,” he mutters, staring you down.

“No, what?”

“No, I won't accept your apology.”

You look horrified for a split second. “Ben, please, I reacted wrong, I know, but I’m pregnant and very emotional. I...”

“I won’t accept your apology,” he cuts in, “because you did nothing wrong.”

“But I kissed you! That was so inappropriate of me!” you bemoan.

“If that’s true, Then I’m really going to have to apologise for this…” and that’s all the warning you get before his lips are on yours again.

And your world stops. Then it spins like a Waltzer. You realise you are frozen in shock, so you respond before he can pull away. Throw yourself into kissing him back, making a noise you are sure you've never made, wanton and desirous. Your whole body feels alight and electric as his hands pull you into him, sweeping down your back.

“Ben, I…” you stutter onto his lips as he breaks away for air.

“Talk later,” he urges, and you silently nod to agree before he dives back in. 

You are not going to look this gift horse in the mouth. You have been so, well, horny during your pregnancy. If someone flesh and blood, especially one this handsome, is going to kiss you and whatever else, there is no way you want to do anything to impede it. You know him so well that you can tell he is as surprised by his actions as you are. But to his credit, he is going with it. Indeed going for it in a way that makes you irrationally jealous of every person he has kissed before. He knows exactly how to make you a breathless mess in his arms. 

“Ben…” you begin as he starts kissing down your neck, the slide of his lips making your eyes close.

He gently shushes you. “I need you to know something important,” his breath is hot on your skin.

“Tell me,” you whisper, almost drunk on sensation.

He pulls away slightly as you reopen your eyes, which are undoubtedly glassy and unfocused.

“I didn’t do this,” he gestures around the room, “for this,” he gestures between you. “This is not a quid pro quo. But by god, am I happy this is happening,” he admits with an adorable grin.

“Noted” you grin back and pull his face back to yours, kissing him hotly.

“But I feel obliged to let you know; it’s been a while since I was with a woman,” he admits, almost sheepish. The humble way he says it tells you he is offering you sex. And by god, you want it.

“Ben, I haven't even so much as kissed anyone in months. This, anything frankly, is just perfect,” you confess between almost breathless kisses.

He gently, oh so gently, unties the bow at the back of your wrap dress, kissing you as he does so. When he whips the dress off your shoulders and flings it across the room, you can’t help the giggle that bubbles up inside; his charming, responding smile makes you want to swoon. 

“Are you sure? I look so…,” you fret as you stand before him, feeling vulnerable now in just your bra and knickers, “you can still say no…” you offer him an out.

“You look like what you are,” he says gently, his hands cupping your face as a thumb swipes your cheek, “a beautiful pregnant woman.” 

You want to dispute it; remind him you are waddling like a duck these days, but you don’t want him to stop. You want to push him to the ground and ride whatever he has going on under those jeans until you are both screaming.

“Stop,” you demure.

“I mean it.” 

As if to make you more comfortable, he quickly discards his t-shirt and slides off his jeans almost perfunctorily. You don’t even get to ogle him as he spins you around to face the full-length mirror on the back of the door. You see your body swollen and him standing behind you in underpants, slightly to one side. He looks stunning, all ropey thighs and toned arms. You feel like a hot air balloon standing before a racehorse.

“Look at yourself,” he orders quietly, hands on your shoulders, then slipping down to map your body. “My god, you look amazing. Powerful and womanly, you are bringing life into the world, and you look amazing doing it. Your skin is glowing.” A large hand runs low around the swell of your belly, cupping it. “I… didn't know it before, but I might have a thing for pregnant bodies. Or rather your pregnant body,” he admits, sounding almost ashamed. 

“I bet you say that to all the pregnant girls,” you murmur in jest, selfishly grabbing his hands and bringing them up to your breasts, his grip through the lacy bra just the most glorious feeling.

He chuckles at your words. “I'm just being honest,” he assures.

“Take off my bra Ben,” you appeal. The slide of his fingers under the clasp resting on your breastbone makes your skin hot and prickly. 

As he gently pulls the cups aside, his groan has you pushing back against him instinctually. In the mirror, you watch his awed gaze in the reflection as he cups your naked flesh this time. He only has to utter the word divine, and you are so desperate for him that you must have him immediately, a sweeping, powerful need that almost knocks the wind from you. You spin around in his arms and push up onto your tiptoes, kissing him hard.

“Lay down,” your request muffled into his mouth.

His sweet, almost shy grin, as he does as bidden, laying down on the soft rug, gives a warm glow under your ribs. He’s still your friend, even with whatever this is. 

“Do you mind if I turn off the lights?” Your request is a quiet thing.

“Whatever makes you comfortable,’ his reply soft and tinged with understanding. 

There is still the orange glow of the London sky filtering in after you flick the switch—it’s never truly dark in the city. You can see enough to easily stare down at his prone outline, toned and lithe, with a delicious-looking bulge straining in his underpants. You really can’t believe your luck.

“Oh god. Please take off your underwear,” it sounds like a whine from your lips, and you inhale sharply as he does exactly what you command. What springs free has your mouth watering, and you drop to your knees beside him. “Holy fuck Ben,” you breathe, your hand grabbing him, almost a reflex.

He gasps as you fist his cock, it’s warm and steely, and it’s been so many months since you handled one, and many years since one this size and pleasant, that before you know it, you are swinging a leg over and straddling him.

His little breathy moans and twitches as you pump and squeeze him are everything. 

“You are very good at this,” he whispers as you settle over his downy thighs.

“I’m sure you’ve had much better,” you demure.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he moans as you swipe a thumb over his leaking slit. You continue to work him, speeding up a little and squeezing. His feral noise instantly has you throbbing. “Why are your knickers still on?” He demands hotly, eyes meeting yours with a burning intensity.

“I…. am happy to just do this,” you stutter, still giving him an out.

“Y/n, if you want sex, even half as much as I do right now, you better decide before you take me too far,” he warns through slightly clenched teeth.

Somehow his honesty is refreshing. Of course, you want it; you are positively fizzing and so wet you could slide right off his thigh.

“Rip them, Ben,” you implore, guiding one of his hands to the seam at your hip.

“Honestly?!?”

“Yes fucking please,” you confirm, staring him down.

He pulls your hand off his cock, as if it’s too distracting, and the room echoes with the sound of lace being torn asunder.

“Fuck that is hot,” you mutter without realising it’s out loud.

He smirks and then hisses as he slides two fingers between your legs and feels just what he has wrought.

“Bloody hell, you are so wet.” he sounds almost taken aback, fingertips teasing your entrance as the heel of his palm presses against your clit.

“All you,” you state honestly, pulling his hand away and sucking on his soaked fingers as he lightly growls at you. 

“Condom?” his question is a touch frantic, but you shake your head, letting his fingers slip from your mouth. Your knowledge of his sexually responsible history regarding all his partners makes you trust he is clean. And it's not like accidental pregnancy is much of an issue. You want to feel him, skin on skin.

You shuffle, so you are lining up with his cock. Then it’s an eye-rolling, lip-biting, toe-curling stretch as he slips inside you. You take him in slowly, savouring each hot inch as you sink down. By the time your clit rests on his root, you are moaning, split open in the most fantastic, persistent way.

“Oh fuck,” you groan clit throbbing. “Fucking hell, you feel so fucking good,” you can’t stop the litany of swear words. 

His hands are a tight vice on your hipbones beneath your bump. "Please don’t move, y/n,” he gasps desperately, and he ripples inside you. “I…. I need a moment.”

You sit happily on him, getting used to the invasion, tracing patterns over his toned abdomen with your fingernails. “Someone has been to the gym,” you tease lightly, and he beams modestly, but you can see the traces of male pride there, pleased that you find him so physically attractive.

Then he gives you a nod, and you move gently, grabbing his hands as leverage as you raise up and sink down. The long exhale you let out tells how wondrous you find the stretch, the drag of his head over your walls, the heat and solid presence. You can’t glance down and watch as you like to, your bump obscuring everything, but you don't miss the way his eyes ping back and forth from your face to between your legs, watching himself disappear into your body, watching you fuck him.

There are no words for a while, just sighs, deep breaths, and gentle moans of satisfaction as you find a rhythm. Even with the baby on board, you have tried to keep up some level of cardio exercise that you are particularly grateful for now. Although you already know you would ride his cock until your thighs cramp, and your abs scream. He seems designed to hit the spot right at the top of your channel that you haven't had the pleasure of being struck in a while. It’s an addictive feeling. And when you get it, you can't help but want to bump it repeatedly, the same chemical rush you get when food tastes so good you have the urge to gobble up the entire plate without pausing.

You wish you could bend over and kiss him, but you are too ballooned to do so without pulling off, and that is the very last thing you want right now. Instead, you bring your fingers to your lips, kiss them, and then place them down on his lips. At first sweet, his smile around your fingers turns smouldering as he sucks them into his warm, wet mouth and runs his tongue fiercely over them. Dear Christ, you want that tongue between your legs to the point you clench on him spontaneously.

“Fucking hell,” he gusts, closing his eyes and pushing his head back, his strong neck standing in relief, a vein there hammering seductively. You want to bite it, scrape your teeth over his adam’s apple.

It appears you may have spoken that last thought as his eyes pop open and look at you in startlement. 

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Don't be,” he rasps, “you can do whatever you want to my body.” 

Permitting free rein to a person seething with hormones such as you are seems like an unwittingly dangerous gamble on his part. The things you would do to him if he let you are probably so much kinkier than even you want to admit.

He groans loud. “I want you to tell me everything you just thought about because I have never seen your expression so wild or sexy.”

“Don’t make such tempting offers,” you volley back, changing angle so that his cock rubs deliciously over your g-spot as you sink. You curse again, and he watches your whole body shudder; his hands are suddenly on your arse, encouraging every move.

“Tell me,” he orders gruffly, something elemental and primaeval seemingly taking over his entire being too.

“I want to fuck you until my body and mouth are screaming,” the admission tumbling breathless as you speed up and ride him harder. “I want to use my nails and teeth and leave marks on your beautiful flesh,” you snarl.

“Fucking do it,” he responds vehemently, bringing his fingers to your mouth. “Bite me,” he urges duskily.

You take his thumb and suck it hard, the pad so fleshy and deliciously tart tasting from when he ran his hand between your legs. So you do; entrap that part between your front teeth watching his pupils dilate, and his breath get even more rapid as your teeth sink in. You stop yourself before it can become something else, where you break skin and taste blood, but you can't deny the metallic urge to do so is there. The fact his cock pulses so hard inside as you do just adds to the craving. 

You don't want to contemplate what it means for your friendship that this potentially seismic thing is happening, you are biting and riding him like an animal in heat, and he is letting you, condoning, encouraging, hell, even goading you, into it. 

Drunk on a sea of hormones, you sink and rise on him like an endless tide, your whole body dewy from the effort, and yet still, you don't stop. The flow becomes less urgent at some point, and your movements become languid, almost sensual. His touch morphs to gently strokes, your hands resting gently on his abs.

“If you were pregnant with my child, I would never leave you,” his voice husky, cupping your breasts with the perfect intensity, swiping your nipples assuredly with his thumbs.  “I would build you a fucking palace.”

“You did,” you gesture around the room.

He laughs, and you feel it inside. “No. You deserve more than this. You deserve to be cherished. You deserve to be worshipped.” he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses your palm sweetly, such an exquisite contrast to the carnality of your fucking. 

You know that sex makes people say things that are a heightened version of the truth; so many endorphins in the bloodstream is a dangerously dramatic elixir, so you dismiss how wistfully beautiful his words sound. And instead, you concentrate on chasing the completion your body craves—that utter mind-numbing bliss of orgasm. 

Leaning forward, your bump rests on his flat, taunt stomach as you grab his arms, his expression turning wild as you lean on them, pinning him down, taking what you want from his body, almost selfish. He murmurs encouraging words, telling you to go for it, gritted teeth and tendons straining. He looks so gorgeous you almost want to edge him and yourself; just keep denying yourselves repeatedly, stringing it out, savouring, torturing, and burning each other to a knife-edge and volatile place. But the greedy part of you wants it now, and your body is teetering close to exhaustion.

“Come for me, please, y/n, please,” he begs. His broken, rough, velvety tone urging you on is the catalyst you need. 

“Touch me, Benedict,” you prompt, your rare use of his full name causing something to snap in him. His fingers verge on rough as they dive between your folds and snag your clit with such ferocity you almost jump sky-high as if burned.

“Give it to me,” he growls. You've never seen him like this, and it's breathtaking. Sweaty, strung-out, teeming with desperation, debauched and wanton. His eyes blaze into yours; even in this low light, all you can see is a convex version of your face reflected in his glassy black, dilated pupils. That and his questing fingers are what send you over the edge you have been hovering so close to. 

You slam down on him, your mind short-circuiting, and your whole body shudders as your channel contracts hard around his cock, which seems even larger now, stilled and speared inside you. Every fibre and cell cresting a wave of euphoria stronger than you've experienced in many years, possibly ever. Under you, he is groaning and writhing, your rippling cunt squeezing his cock vice-like as he comes hard, mouth hanging slack, loud groans as his hands grip your thighs and he pushes up against you, emptying himself. A warmth and force you feel inside, coating your walls as he shudders.

Totally spent, you twist off his softening cock and flop onto your back next to him, exhausted but so sated even your extremities tingle, little aftershocks causing muscle twitches.

For a few moments, there is nothing but ragged breathing in the soft glow from the street lamps outside; the background hum of the city and the whoosh of water in your radiators are the only other sounds you can hear. The room smells the opposite of how a nursery should, like sex and sweat and sin. You will definitely have to clean this rug is the first random fleeting thought your brain supplies as it comes back online.

“I don’t know what this means,” he admits quietly as you lay, shoulders touching, still panting breaths.

“I don’t either.” you agree.

“But I do know you are one of my best friends in the world… and that I want to do this again,” he confesses, his hand lacing with yours.

As much as you love this man wholeheartedly, you are not ready to contemplate a romantic entanglement. Not yet, anyway.

“Listen, Ben, I’m still healing from my relationship ending the way it did, and I’m about to become a mum; I have no space to think about the future beyond that. Can we just do this? And see where it goes?”

“Yes… yes, please,” he exhales, relieved you are perhaps unexpectedly on precisely the same page.

“So you have a kink for pregnant ladies, eh?” You bump him with a teasing tone.

“I had no bloody idea,” he admits, his cheeks reddening, “but seriously? I was already super protective of you in this state. But seeing you like this naked? I mean fucking hell. It does something primal and very male to me. And it’s not even my damn kid,” he points out bemused.

“Next time,” you twist and pat his cheek in jest.

“Would you have a kid with me?” his tone is obscure, you can't tell if he's serious, so you plumb for honesty.

“Of course, I would,” you state plainly, “you are a wonderful man. Who wouldn’t want a kid with your gorgeous face?” you smile and trace a finger over his jaw.

“Haha,” he deadpans, rolling his eyes. “But… I may just hold you to that promise, you know,” he smirks.

“You actually want a kid with me?”

“I can’t think of anyone else I’d want a child with more,” he shrugs.

“Meh, you just haven’t met the love of your life yet,” you wave a hand dismissively. 

“I don’t believe in that shit,” he frowns.

“I always picture you ending up with a man, to be honest,” and it’s your turn to shrug.

“Really?” he tilts to look at you. “Why?”

“I dunno. Still do, really.”

“Well, that's part of the delight of being bi… even I don't know,” his laugh contemplative. He rolls you onto your side and encloses you into an embrace, cradling you as the little spoon. “For now though, I want this….” his voice gravelly again, fingers spidering the curve of your hip, lips on your neck, stirring you again even as his cum still seeps out of you. 

It only takes a few caresses for you to be so aroused and throbbing for him, the physical chemistry you have together taking you by surprise. 

“God, what the hell is going on? I’m getting hard again,” he groans, almost disbelieving, surging his cock against your bottom. “May I?”

“Please do,” you squeak as he nudges your folds.

The keening cry of his name you make as he pushes into your body has him whispering for you never to stop, right in your ear. Then he takes you without mercy from behind, just like that, laying on your side. He doesn't treat you like glass, and you are so grateful for it, knowing you want to repay him on your knees, taking him down your throat if he’ll let you. And he does later that night. The way he breathlessly stutters your name as you suck him hard and deep is the most wonderous sound.

Whatever this may become, it is the last thing either of you expected and the very thing you both needed most. What a gift.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet

[perseephoneee]

↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ 1k celebration

⭑ 𝖀𝖒𝖇𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆 𝕬𝖈𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖒𝖞 ⭑

𝐁𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒

soulmate au | where you see everything in black n’ white until he enters your life

come away with me | teen!ben and graduation

𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒

they’ll love you | m!reader meeting the hargreeves

relationship hcs

intoxication | klaus crashes outside your work with five, and you find them both annoying (but also cute)

flower shop | you work at a flower shop and klaus is your frequent customer

meeting santa klaus {ficmas 2023}

𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒

banana pancakes | lazy mornings with your bf

ice skating {ficmas 2023}

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒

cats out of the bag | five always manages to show up where you are, and you finally find out why

do me a favor and kiss my ass | two sarcastic individuals

[ivystoryweaver]

Decadent: A Miguel O'Hara Story

next-> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

De-ca-dent* (de-kə-dənt) 1. characterized by or appealing to self-indulgence a rich and decadent dessert 2. marked by decay or decline an increasingly decadent society

Summary: You are new to the city, starting a job at a the research facility of your dreams. Speaking of dreams, your dreamy boss, Miguel O'Hara leaves an impression on you you'll not soon forget. But this brilliant scientist hides a dark secret - will his darkness drag you under? Or is love strong enough to overcome anything?

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara from the film Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse x female reader

Word Count: We're just kicking things off so -1k

Warnings/notables: AU story. 18+, please note the warnings for each part/section of this story. Some things are canon accurate and some are not. The secret Miguel hides requires him to do dark deeds to sustain his own life. Therefore there are non-con "vampiric" elements, but all sexual activities are consensual. Also cursing. Blood. References to sex but no sex in this chapter. References to killing. Let me know if I missed something. not beta'd we die like everyon'es uncle ben...

"Hi, Aunt Jess, I'm settled in my apartment. Movers just left," you spoke aloud, using your wireless headphones to make a call. Your Aunt had insisted you let her know you were all moved in, but failed to answer.

"It's small, like I told you, but I really wanted to start out on my own. Only child thing," you laughed. "Uhmm...I know you wanted me to have a roommate, to be safe, but...I promise I'll think about it more. Once I get to know some people here in the city."

Flopping down on your favorite green chair, you let out an exhausted sigh. "Anyway, you can text me back if you want. I'm taking a shower - if I can find my towels - and going to sleep. Early start tomorrow. Love you, bye."

Removing your headphones, you placed them carefully back in their charging case and turned on some relaxing music. It took you a few minutes, but you did find the box labeled 'towels' so you could freshen up. You had packed a bag with all your essentials - including some cozy pajamas for your first night in the city, and a smart suit for your first day as a research assistant tomorrow.

You were starting a new life in a new city. Orphaned when you were twelve-years-old, you were raised throughout your teenage years by your dad's much younger sister, Jessina. You were much closer in age - so much so that you occasionally fought like sisters, but she made good on her promise to take care of you, supporting you all the way through your master's degree.

Now you were in the city to finish up your doctorate, while working as an assistant to one of the most brilliant geneticists in the world - Miguel O'Hara.

You had only met him over a video call - he was inexplicably unavailable on your only in-person interview. He had a reputation for being tough, no-nonsense, devastatingly brilliant and dangerously handsome. You didn't know him yet, but the handsome part, you could attest to. Seeing him on your computer screen made your body temperature rise and your heart rate double.

Who knew what would happen in person?

But you were a professional, and Miguel's assistant was the perfect entry job for you. So you would have to ignore his gorgeous, thick waves and razor sharp jaw line. You were here to work.

Miguel sat perched on the edge of an abandoned building, head in his hands, fingers digging into his temples.

Everything hurt.

Conveniently, he didn't have to concentrate to keep his talons from piercing his own skin. So thankfully, talons were not the source of his pain. Still...it hurt.

With a huff, he jerked his hands away, banging a fist on the roof's edge...

...which promptly caused the aged brick to crumble beneath his super strength.

"Shit," he mumbled, pushing himself up. Sighing loudly, he decided he better call it a night. Even with above-average stamina, he still wanted to be ready to meet his new assistant tomorrow at the lab.

It was just so hard to concentrate when he felt so weak.

"I can't," he uttered, annoyed with himself for thinking of blood when he needed to be thinking about tomorrow - about you.

But it had been so long. Too long since he fed - since he felt the rush of his fangs sinking into a warm, fleshy neck. Since he had sucked the life out of someone despicable. Or fed slowly as he'd fucked a lover. The blood wasn't only a life-sustainer, after all. It was an aphrodisiac. He had the Evarcha culicivora - the vampire spider to thank for his blood appetite.

But something had gone wrong when Miguel was unknowingly afflicted with spider DNA years ago. The vampire spider's appetite for blood - specifically blood-filled females - plagued him. He could and did still eat regular food, but he found himself signficiantly weakened if he didn't feed on occasion.

He couldn't deny how incredible it felt - the warmth on his tongue - the pliant body in his arms. He told himself he kept to the moral high ground, killing on the most deplorable criminals. And even though his fangs emitted a non-toxic venom, which could paralyze, he told himself that each and every pleasurable feeding was consensual.

He was half right. The sex was definitely consensual because Miguel was a brilliant, beautiful and seductive man. The feedings, though? Not always. How could he exactly explain to someone that he was a creature who needed to feed on blood to live?

'Hi, I'm Miguel. I'm really smart and I will make you see God in bed, but, by the way, I want to drink you. But I'm not a vampire, I swear!'

Ludicrous.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he shook those thoughts from his head. It was next-level annoying to have super powers at his disposal but still feel like shit half the time.

Blood was the key.

But in sustaining his body, he felt he was losing his soul.

Coming up: you meet Miguel. What will your new boss be like? Will he have fed before he sees you? next->

*as defined by Merriam-Webster