#it needs a proper place and I cannot decide on one :(

[ryuki-blogs]

I finally changed up my noticeboard and got frames for new prints and everything is hanged up... except the print from Alex Milne (the reason I started this reorganization and went to Ikea in the first place)

[anantaru]

— comforting you on a bad day

including — scaramouche, wriothesley, alhaitham, childe x gn! reader

genre — fluff, hurt -> comfort

— scaramouche

scaramouche finds you sitting on the couch, burying your face into your hands.

easy to see, he knew you must've had a bad day or that something inconvenient must've happen to you— and unquestionably, he feels a slight function of heartache when you're suddenly pulling your head up to look at him walk towards you, gloom settling on his countenance.

scaramouche doesn't say anything at first, he doesn't want to make you overwhelmed or like you had to talk about it, it was up to you if you wanted of course. but it was interesting to see how dependable he was on your happiness, because the man detested seeing your smile fade, he'd do anything to bring it back— as soon as you're sad, unahappy or dejected, he's beginning to feel it with you.

he was angry— bend out of his usual shape because he cannot find a quick solution to this, he just doesn't want to see you covered in a gloomy mask.

however, instead of resorting back to his past methods of handling situations such as those, especially the ones that come close to his own emotions, scaramouche decides to take a seat right next to you before placing his hand on his knee, but with his palm facing up— you see, as if to invite you to take it.

hopefully you do.

"you're quiet," he inquires shortly after, tilting his head to look at you, "on any other day, you'd greet me the moment i walk through that door," he purses his lips a little, the hand on his knee quietly turning impatient, like he's scared you won't take it— or even worse, what if he's the reason you felt this way?

troubled, scaramouche proceeds to look at you, and it might not come across like it since it can be quite difficult for him to show his proper feelings— but he'd do anything for you right now, if there's something he could do in order for your smile to appear again, he'd do it without batting an eye.

his throat lets go of a dry sigh when you take his hand sweetly before resting your head against his shoulder, holding your breath as you exhale through a crumbling heave.

scaramouche's grip on you tightens, "who did this to you?" he decides to ask, his voice growing an octave louder, ultimately signalizing the despair he felt from seeing you like this, "is there someone who made you feel this way? someone i should be aware of?" scaramouche had to know if there was a third party that was involved and most importantly, responsible for this— if so, you could easily leave it to him to take care of it.

you sniffle, the grip your hand had on his palm strengthening, "no one, it's just me," you embarrassingly rub your cheek against his shoulder as he leans back into the couch so you could make yourself more comfortable, "i just had a bad day, that's all," and as badly as your eyes wanted to flutter shut, you were frightened to do so due to possible tears dousing your cheeks.

for some reason, you didn't want him to see you cry— despite the fact that you would never be judged nor laughed at by him.

the man loves you dearly, he could tell the entire world about it— draw warm and tender words on a pavement blossoming with roses. it's truly a magical feeling, turning to dizzying deeds and actions when he gets to kiss and hug you, touch and caress you.

scaramouche whispers your name softly when he slowly runs his thumb to circle around your hand, "hey, you don't have to be sad anymore," at his sentence, you curiously turn your head up as best as you can when his eyes flitter down at you.

"i mean, since i'm back from the akademiya now, we can spend all night together," you make a hum of appreciation before shifting yourself into him so you're lying as close to your boyfriend as possible, "—besides," scaramouche continues as he rests his head against yours, his mind and spirit soothing yours, "if someone is, in fact, responsible for your sadness, i might need to take care of something else first."

you chuckle, believing he's joking before opting to peck his cheek as at the same time, he pulls you in for a proper kiss— ah well, how sweet, you're smiling now, he can sense it as denseness lifts from your shoulders.

strongly invaded by a warm cradle around your whole face, scaramouche silently takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, "i told you," he sternly reminds you, whispering his words as his brows narrowed, the muscles in your face beginning to soften upon receiving his homely touch.

"i won't let anyone or anything sadden you, doesn't matter what it is, i will make sure you're being taken care of."

— wriothesley

you do not move an inch, your body hemmed in a draining blanket that fueled a negative spot in your heart, but do not be mistaken because within this cold, you can feel the warmth of wriothesley's love all the more.

you're like a sheet of glass right now, utterly still, eyes open as if gazing into a dark hole, unable to move a single muscle by how challenging this day had been for you.

as soon as he shrouds your body against his arms and pushes you into his chest, your eyes are glazed in warm liquid that cover the majority of your cheeks, slowly eating away at your skin. your boyfriend doesn't mind when you're crying in front of him, quite the reverse actually, he sees it as you trusting him so much, that you're willing to be vulnerable in front of him.

as soon as he kisses your forehead in reassurance, the force of the impact your emotions have caused on your mental state lift a little, paired with your general feelings resulting in you stumbling forward into his embrace, your hands clumsily scrambling at his jacket as you sniffle into his chest.

in your relationship you didn't need to hide your raw emotions, not only would wriothesley see through you right away, but it's, bluntly saying, pointless to do that in the first place. the man knows that in this moment in time, he needs to be there for you, and he doesn't expect you to be happy and positive all the time.

yet seeing you like this feels like losing a limb, because you're completing wriothesley in a way, you're like a puzzle piece fixing his heart— the fear of being unable to help you, give you what you need was scrambling into his body and mind, and if you ultimately sought after it, the duke would gladly destroy anything to make you happy, including himself.

"sorry, am i being too much?" you sniffle out before rubbing your eyes to get rid of the blur, honestly clueless as to why you're apologizing in the first place, "i think you must've expected our date to turn out differently," you continue, it was all you could shove past the heavy lump in your throat. you're holding yourself on a single thread, deep breathes and hefty swallows, your soft fingers slipping beneath the back of his neck.

wriothesley smiled, feeling the pull of it behind his heart, he disliked whenever you were apologizing for things you cannot control, not to mention when they were so human too.

"not at all, do not say that," he answers, holding you close, "you will never be able to be too much for me," he promises as he sighs out, one last octave teasing the following as his lips slowly move with a warm tenderness on your forehead once he places a kiss on you.

— alhaitham

alhaitham will not touch you, yes, he will sit next to you and offer a shoulder for you to lean on if you so seek it, but he will not begin to speak first nor say anything at all— wether it's questioning your current state or beginning to somehow figure it out on his own.

instead, he just listens to you.

you can talk to your boyfriend about everything, he does not care if it's pointless gossip you've overheard the other day, or you talking about this new, exciting hobby you found or like now, something that has pulled and squeezed at your heart like you're unable to breathe anymore.

he will not interrupt you, the man will make sure you can scream your heart out of your chest if it means that you feel better afterwards. he's a good listener and when you tell him everything that's on your mind, alhaitham will subconsciously ponder about possible solutions on how to help you out.

"nothing could be more human than this, don't ever feel like you have to hide this from me," he says as your tears slip beyond your control, rushing uncontrollably. alhaitham desired you beyond any significant reason, he has fallen for you and such fact will never falter, it's beyond native intelligence, beyond common sense.

although sometimes, he can trail off, it's cute, especially when he's catching himself admiring his darling, "you're so beautiful, have i told you that today?" for a second, right after you tipple over his words, your body is unable to react, and then you cannot help yourself but let go of a chuckle.

his sudden compliment came so unexpected regardless of your boyfriend being blunt by nature, "you're telling me this while i'm crying and looking like a mess?" your lips curve into a flustered smile, cutting through your initial weary facade. the chilling waves that flung into your body surely caused havoc, but it was almost frightening by how fast alhaitham could change your mood. 

"I thought you should know," he ponders, softly pushing your head up so you could look at him, "you're always beautiful to me, that has nothing to do with how you're feeling,"

shortly after, you lean into a tender kiss, chasing the love he was always providing you with— this time, simply feeling him once wasn't enough, so you kiss him again, again and again, leaving him with enlarged pupils as he pulls gently away.

— childe

childe will find things to make you feel better, heavy emphasized on the find.

it's something he has to get done and despite the fact that he might not seem like it, he feels it with you, everything, it impact him, regardless if you're being drained that day, saddened or if it even has anything to do with him in the first place.

naturally, he'd also pamper you so you're feeling more comfortable, but such wasn't necessarily a new in your relationship, he clearly has a habit of spoiling you to bits— the celestial bodies decorating the world, yes, ajax would reach for the stars in the sky if you so wished for them.

you're aware that he's mostly absent due to his work requiring him for the most times, but he'd make sure to be by your side the moment he realizes you're genuinely not feeling well. childe is quite adapt of finding a way to make what he wants to achieve possible so do not worry yourself, he will never let you down.

for all that, do not get greatly surprised when he's starting to throw around unfunny jokes his brother might've told him or tell you a story about how hilariously weird his fellow colleagues can be, not to mention scary which was rib-tickling in its own manner.

the man will get nervous too and it's cute, it's his first serious relationship and he doesn't want to do anything wrong. also, important side note but it goes without saying that him being this adorable will already lift your mood a bit.

he's also a little overwhelmed by the situation and is scared to make it somehow worse for you. little does he realize that you're so thankful to him, in fact, you do not need him to magically solve the problems for you, your boyfriend just being here and listening was enough to find comfort.

it's all the more charming, he is, how he smiles from head to toe when you're searching his snug, pleasant hugs when he lets you sob into his chest.

"you're so comfy," you mumble into his jacket before rubbing your cheek over the place where you could faintly notice his fastened heart thumping beneath his ribcage.

your message makes him immediately blush, scarlet red catching his skin and setting it ablaze as he averts his gaze a little to conceal it.

childe doesn't necessarily think he's good at comforting somebody, but he shows you another smile when you gaze up at him, his grin close-lipped but bright as a bared tooth, "i'm sorry, i know i have neglected you recently," you recognize the weary weight of his words, how they're crumpling off his face, "my work, ugh, i know i should've been there for you more," he groans, "you don't deserve to be alone all the time,"

"it's not your fault," you draw a shaky gasp, panicked arms flying to his neck to wrap around him, "you're here now, aren't you?" your eyes glow, flickering with an impression that he cannot forget, it's boiling over until reaching the surface of your complete countenance, "can you stay for the night? only if it's possible," you reluctantly continue.

it's important to note that you really do not fault him, childe was not only providing for his family, but he wanted to give you a life where you do not have to worry about the material aspect of living.

ajax slides his large palm soothingly along the shiver of pain wracking your frame as he listlessly rests his head against yours, "i'll stay as long as you want me to, until you're feeling better, until you can smile again."

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[beloveds-embrace]

noona. noon. any angsty thoughts to share for the duke au? 👁️ (i’m craving angst sorry)

Original post

I DO!! Angst version of the au would be if you weren’t welcomed at all. Sure, no one is being flat out rude to you, no one is actively sabotaging you and John doesn’t hit or force you into anything.

But it’s lonely.

The maids barely touch you, as if disgusted they have to help and tend to the woman their Duke needed to and not wanted to marry, and the butlers are the same. Especially the head butler Garrick. You still don’t know his first name and he doesn’t seem inclined to tell you.

During the dinner… nights with John, you’ve started noticing that your food isn’t quite as well done as his? Less decorated, occasionally burnt or not cooked well, but you don’t want to cause any trouble so you remain silent and John never asks why you seem to eat so little.

You do also meet Duke Riley, the man that John is said to have an incredibly close friendship with, something born during his time servicing the kingdom. You’ve heard so much about him, from bad to good, and you wonder how he actually is.

In the end, you wish you hadn’t met him, too. The humiliation of being flat-out ignored in your own home while he speaks amicably with John…

So yes. Life as Duchess Price isn’t a happy one, but you are just glad you aren’t physically hurting.

But you do find solace in the only kindness your parents had bothered to show you before they gave you away; your personal knight, König. He is the only one to not treat you as such. He is the only one you can confide in, feel just a little bit of happiness and friendship with even if you haven’t even seen his face yet.

“I’m so tired,” you whisper to him one night, under the blanket of the night sky. You’d thrown a simple shawl over your shoulders, and hadn’t questioned it when he fell in steps behind you, always a protective shadow. Today had been hard. You had also decided to no longer dine with John, not too excited about the lackluster food and the stilted conversations. Cold maids, lonely night… you ached for something more.

You take in a shuddering breath, wrapping the shawl tighter around yourself. Konig stands right beside the bench you are sitting on, a familiar and comforting sight and presence. But tonight, it’s not enough. “I’m so tired, König.” You repeat, your voice cracking.

König simply stares at you for a while; you are used to it, used to everything about him. The mask, the accent, the unyielding body that is always keeping you safe. The quiet congestions you have had, during the days you lock yourself away in your office to ignore the loneliness and sadness plaguing you.

You aren’t used to seeing König bend down in front of you, holding his hands out until you place them in his. Familiar pale eyes peer up at you. Proper etiquette doesn’t matter to you in this moment; who will chastise you for the lack of it when this entire duchy holds only the most basic form of respect for you?

Even if they did, you would not let go of König, your confidant. Your knight.

“…What do you need, mylady?”

After a silent moment, you take in a deep breath and look back at him. “…I want… someone who loves me enough to be kind towards me. I want someone who loves me.”

König nods his head. With bated breath, you watch silently as he brings your hands forward, under his mask, to kiss each knuckle on your hands.

“I am your knight, mylady. I am your sword, and your shield. I, too, can be your lover if that is what you want, mylady. Whatever you desire, it is my duty to provide.” König breathes out against your skin, eyes not once flicking away, words not once breaking. He is fully devoted in his decision. “Will you allow me, mylady? The decision is your, always has been. I cannot take you away from this horrible place-“ not yet. “-but I can give you my love and devotion, just as I’ve always done. Will you allow me, mylady?”

And after everything you’ve been through, all the pain and loneliness and exclusion- you can’t say no.

“…Yes, König.”

(By the time John begins to realize that he may have misjudged you, once you find out the truth, it is already far too late for mending any bridges. There is no particular feeling when you look at him, or any of his men. You only ask that no one bothers your time alone with your shadow, your knight. It’s far too late for anything.)

[awxcoffeexno]

giving him a reason

logan howlett x human!reader

fic masterlist

summary: you've been on the run from the yakuza and are taking refuge in an old, forgotten family home. logan's been protecting you this whole while because that's just who logan is.

content: i've lifted the setting straight from the wolverine (2013). reader is taking mariko's place--reader is mariko, mariko is reader (no names are taken tho). lovemaking ensues. this fic is super tender and gentle because bitches need to remember how tender and gentle logan really is (i'm bitches). this is porn with no plot lolol. f!reader.

warnings: extremely 18+ content. MDNI. i'll kill u if you do. tender love making, logan goes down on reader like a champ, piv, reader is a virgin but logan's vvvvvvvvv gentle and caring, there's hardly any talking but there is proper consent taking, logan just wants to take care of reader, all is good in the world (at least for now), and logan's lost his healing powers so several mentions of him having bullet wounds.

word count: 3k (oops? might've gotten a teeny tiny bit carried away)

a/n: back at it again, but publishing my first nsfw fic, praying y'all don't hate me. if you don't like this, istg the nsfw version of claw worship is NEVER seeing light of day.

you hear him groan behind the door and the sound makes your heart catch.

you and logan have been on your feet all day, save for the train ride to the small village in nagasaki you've finally reached. running from the yakuza had decidedly not been your plan for the day after your grandfather's funeral but what choice did you have in coming here really?

not to mention... logan saved your life yesterday. several times. he was shot seven times per what the doctor told you.

and he is not healing. your grandfather told you that kuzuri had exceptional healing powers. he'd told you this several times. but logan is not healing at all and it makes you tic. he'd told you that this was the doing of your grandfather's doctor. you cannot imagine the agony he must be in.

you've never done well with seeing or hearing people in pain. yukio always suspected you had some type of emotionally perceptive powers but you don't think so. you just have an inherent need to help and that's that.

carefully, hopefully noiselessly, you slide the door to the bedroom open and though he has his back to the door, his neck is already craning towards you. apparently whatever that doctor lady did to take his healing powers did not dull his hearing.

he's standing shirtless, feet shoulder width apart to keep his balance, skin glistening from a sheen of sweat.

"may i see?" you ask and he takes a long, deep breath.

you stand in silence, at first waiting for him to decide and then watching him turn around, bloodied black shirt in hand and an uneasy vulnerability in his eyes.

his stitches look mostly in place apart from the ones on the wound on his abdomen that have started to bleed. you pad over and reach a steady hand out to touch gingerly around the wound.

logan's jaw tightens but he lets you examine him, his breath warm on your face.

he's burning hot and it would be startling but he'd explained yesterday that it's normal for him. his fever had started when he was 9 and it never broke. so you ignore the unnatural temperature of his skin and step away to find him a cloth and some hot water to clean himself with.

when you return, however, he has clearly already showered and is trying to tie a dark kimono on. you have no idea where he found it and his efforts on keeping it in place force you to bite back a smile.

"let me." you offer, putting the contents of your hand aside to help him.

he immediately pulls his hands away in defeat and you find yourself barely an inch away from him yet again. his breath on you makes your toes curl this time. there's something different about his stance, something... more inviting.

"you need this tied like a proper samurai," you explain as you work on the obi.

there's a moment of silence, the pitter pattering of the rain comforting in the silence. he's thinking, you realise.

"your grandfather called me a ronin." his voice is low. tentative. "a samurai without a master. he said i was destined to live forever... with no reason to live."

that's probably the most you've heard him speak.

you swallow thickly. "was he right?"

"yes," he says, voice laced with such melancholy, it makes you ache.

he has taken seven bullets for you knowing he isn't healing. dodged perhaps a hundred more whilst protecting you.

you remember how he'd stood directly in an open doorway in front of a gun-wielding yakuza man to distract him so that you could run. you'll never forget the sound of those bullets hitting his metal skeleton. like nails on a chalkboard.

he'd put his life on the line for you over and over and over again.

aren't you reason enough then? haven't you become reason enough? after everything you've both been through? together?

you muster up all the courage you can and stuff it into one word. "still?"

your eyes dart up to his for a flash before coming back down to finish up. you pull your hands away but... but after the two dreadfully long days that you both have spent together... after seeing him fight to so furiously to keep you safe the way he did... after everything, you simply cannot bear the thought of stepping back.

neither can he apparently because one of his large, warm paws comes up and cups your cheek, ever so slowly pulling you into a kiss.

something about you has been haunting him since he first looked into your eyes three days ago at your family home in the suburbs of tokyo. especially after you, like a goddamned fool, tried to jump off the roof. he cannot pretend to understand why he's been so taken with you but he knows if he hadn't stopped you from jumping that day, another part of him would've died.

he supposes it's something about the saddest eyes on some of the most beautiful women ever that draw him to them. first kayla, then jean, and now... you. and that's only in the last half-century.

so he kisses you, warm and gentle and desperate to comfort. he kisses you like that until you mewl into his mouth, soft and needy. and then his own need shifts.

still careful to be gentle, his hands slip into your hair to hold the back of your neck to angle you better for himself. he's a tall man and leaning too far down is causing him pain he isn't very used to.

you feel so small in his hold, his hand wrapped around the entirety of the back of your neck, fingers resting under your ears, soothing your tingling skin.

pulling away a little, you run a thumb across his cheek. a small, very small smile spreads across his lips.

"hey." he says, voice low and soft, making you blush.

this should feel wrong. he's the kuzuri your grandfather told you bedtime stories about. the kuzuri whose bravery and determination gave you the strength to also face your nightmares as a little girl. you shouldn't be doing this.

but maybe that's why it feels right. you feel safe around him. truly and wholly safe; something not harada or even your own father has ever made you feel. you've known this kuzuri your whole life and you know he'll protect you.

you don't even bother thinking about how you're engaged to noburo. no, you've heard enough whispers about him sleeping with other women after your engagement to him. it doesn't faze you in the slightest.

so you kiss him again, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips to his smile. you feel one of his hands run down your back, coming to a stop right atop the bow of your obi, sending a shiver of thrill down your spine.

you've never felt this excitement before. you and harada had never gotten this far and noburo... well, something about his predator like advances made you want to throw up, so you never even let him this close.

but here you are, in the arms of kuzuri, a literal predator, and you feel... warm. nice.

he looks at you, brows dipping in an ask for consent. when you nod, sucking your lip between your teeth, he yanks the obi open and gently slips your kimono off one shoulder.

your soft, smooth skin makes him bite back a primal growl. he'd hate to scare you off, but standing here in front of him in the glow of the moonlight, you look so edible.

leaning in, making your tummy do a backflip, he presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to your shoulder. it makes you squeak and hold onto him tighter lest your knees betray you.

"logan!" you whisper with a gasp, feeling his teeth sink in and your feet leave the ground as he scoops you into his arms and takes you to the mattress in the middle of the room.

carefully, he kneels onto the floor and sets you down, his movement so light and tender it makes your heart ache.

pressing another kiss to your throat and then your mouth, he moves to place himself onto the mattress, between your legs.

you look at him with such big doe eyes, he cannot help but bring your hands together and press a soft kiss in the middle of your palms.

he then moves to undo your kimono like a wrapped present and take you in fully.

you're beautiful. the moonlight makes you shine, so perfectly womanly and delicate in his gaze.

reverently, he bends forward, right hand wrapping around your left thigh and pulling your legs apart so he can finally claim you with his mouth. his wounds ache for relief, the position actual torture but he barely even notices, so taken he is by your presence.

you push a lithe hand into his hair when you first feel his tongue, tugging as your hips arch up and you cry out his name.

"logan, god–"

he smiles into your mound, not having expected such a reaction this quick, but it only makes sense. you've both been so wound up after everything, you obviously need this.

"i know, princess," he coos as he licks a stripe across your leaking pussy all the way up to your clit.

he brings his lips around the little bundle of nerves and sucks experimentally and he's forced to hold your hips down when you moan out loud again. he was not expecting you to be loud in bed but he sees absolutely no reason to complain.

his tongue works on you expertly, undoing you with every lick and stroke and bite and suck. his fingers squeeze into your sides painfully hard, so badly wanting to mark you as his. he runs his hands down to your thighs and gently pulls them around his neck, sitting up to relieve the pain in his wounds, pulling you up with him.

"lo–"

"i've got you, you're okay," he reassures immediately, making your tummy flip again. he's so so so gentle and it kills you to have seen him as nothing but a brute until you reached the village.

his mouth continues to perform its delicious hot magic on your nerves as your eyes roll back in your head and you unconsciously reach up for one of your bared breasts. he freezes when he notices your movement, distracted like a cat having heard a mouse scampering across a field.

your eyes fly open to finding him watching your movements with a dark and hungry lust.

"don't stop," he urges and though his voice is strained, it isn't unkind. if anything, it almost sounds pleading.

how can you possibly deny him that? especially when he says it in that voice, looking at you with that expression.

so you continue, cupping a handful of your breast and squeezing gently, making yourself moan. he groans into your heat and buries his mouth back against your pussy, eyes never leaving your hands.

he continues his good work, watching you like a hawk as you knead your breasts, biting your lip. carefully, you circle your finger around one nipple as he sucks on your clit again.

you lose yourself to it, the rhythm of playing with yourself, the beautiful way it harmonises with his mouth, it's all so delicious. just like that, you feel yourself winding up, up, up...

"c'mon, princess," he encourages, "let go for me."

and you fall. fast and slow, all at once, right over the edge. you fall and fall and fall, and he continues to do the wicked thing with his tongue around your clit, lapping at your pussy and you give your everything to him.

he works you through it, moaning your name softly, his hands bruising your thighs until you slump in his hold. gently pulling your legs off his shoulders, he sets you down and crawls over you.

his hands come to rest on either side of your head and the warmth is so inviting, the scent of tobacco and his earthy musk filling your senses.

"can you give me another, angel?" he asks, kissing you right on the mouth so that you can taste yourself on his tongue; heaven, the mix of his need and your release tastes like heaven.

you shake your head no, too overstimulated but he's already working his way down to your breasts, leaving wet, hot kisses in his wake. and when he gets to one nipple and sucks it into his mouth with a soft groan, it sparks the fire right back up in your core.

"watching you play with yourself..." he murmurs, trailing off as he licks a flat stripe up the valley of your breasts before looking up at you.

the look in his eyes and his unrelenting mouth make you whine. "logan... need you."

that makes him smirk. how quickly he's worked you out.

"yeah? don't worry, babygirl," and he's spreading your legs apart again, "i'll take care of you."

he pulls the kimono off himself so quickly, you suspect it might have something to do with the claws that retract into his hand. you didn't even realise when he took them out.

he's... glorious. every muscle in his body is taut and stretched across his body like a work of art. his tan skin is dusted with hair so fine it makes your mouth water.

your eyes cross his pecs, his wounds, his bruises, lower and lower until... fuck. he's... big. big and so red, surely it must be painful.

he brings a hand up to your face and you think he's going to cover your mouth but he simply says, "lick."

you oblige shyly, savouring the salt of his skin. he pulls it away, spitting and then wrapping his surprisingly long and thick fingers around his cock. he runs it up and down the length, watching you with such intensity, it makes you blush as he positions himself in front of your opening and you bite your lip, looking up as he crowds you again.

you feel him push into you and within seconds, he's already stretching you open so wide it makes you grab the pillow behind your head in desperation.

he stills, gauging you. he knows this feeling. he's felt it in other women before; the squeezing of walls so tight there could only be one explanation. you're a virgin. shit, he needs to be careful.

rubbing your thighs with both hands, he gently and carefully pushes in just a little bit more.

"never done this before?" he asks, leaning down to press the softest kiss to your lips.

of course he's right. you have no idea how he knows but it makes you redden that he's caught onto your inexperience. are you making it that obvious? oh god, are you not making this good for him?!

immediately noticing your agitation, he pulls all the way out and kisses you again.

"easy... easy," he says, stroking your hair away from your face. "just gotta relax."

his voice is so even, so warm and soothing, that you cannot help but nod.

"good girl," he smiles encouragingly, once again positioning himself at your entrance.

he pushes in again and this time it's easier. you aren't quite so wound up and he slides in smoother because he's already made you adequately wet. still, he goes slowly, making sure it is good for you.

until you realise he's going too slow.

"lo–" you gasp, voice more a squeak than you'd like. "more– need more, please..."

around anyone else you'd feel pathetic. begging for something so filthy, so raw. but with logan, it's so comfortable. knowing he'll give you anything you ask for, even if you've known each other only half a week.

so he pushes himself completely into you, and he's so fucking big, so fucking much inside you as he whispers words of encouragement into your ears, kissing and biting at your neck. the ache of the stretching almost immediately gives way to a sharp pleasure that shoots through you straight from his tip and into every last nerve in your body.

it makes you wrap both hands around him, needing so desperately to be as close to him as possible.

you initiate the kiss this time as he starts moving in you. you slip your tongue into his mouth, sliding it against his, making him groan. the sound is so delicious, you roll your hips to cause it again. his hands grasp your waist, steading you, moaning your name around your tongue.

one of his hands comes up to grab the back of your neck again, taking charge of the kiss as he starts thrusting into you with more vigour.

you cannot imagine a better feeling than being right here. being held by him, being kissed by him, and being filled by him.

tentatively, you squeeze around him, realising you're reaching another orgasm quickly. he growls into your mouth at that, picking up further speed. it makes your hips buck and you're skin feel like it's on fire.

"logan, i'm... i'm..."

"me too, angel," he grunts.

and with one final thrust he presses all the way intp you, making you cry out as you come undone again. he snarls your name, a man possessed, the squeezing and fluttering of your walls pushing him over his own edge.

he fills you up, forehead coming down to rest against yours. he pants softly, never having felt tired like this before. but he realises... he doesnt mind it so much, not when he's tired because he got to make love to you.

you kiss him sweetly, breaking him out of his thoughts and he smiles at you.

"so beautiful," he murmurs, pulling out of you and lying down next to you.

he tugs you onto his chest and presses a kiss into your hair.

"logan?" you say, so spent your eyes are already drooping.

"hmm?"

"still?" you say and he realises you're repeating his question from earlier.

he hugs you tightly at that, wrapping his arms around you, warm and possessive.

"no. i don't think so."

--

wrote this at 6 in the morning before work so if there's errors, it's not my fault :))))

ik everyone hates the 2013 movie but i rewatched it recently and i remembered every last line. fuck me it's soooooo good.

really hope u like it tho.

love, d <3

--

retroactively tagging @techwrecker for being a cutie in the comments in all my other fics 🙂‍↔️

[orteil42]

some undifferentiated thoughts about my Starfield playthrough as i have them. i am a game developer with a strong interest in procedural generation and i've enjoyed a bunch of other bethesda games so this might get pretty mean sorry

(this is a long one)

starfield dialogue is already exhausting me "oh you must've been living under a moon rock ;)" get it! because they're in space! this would've been too corny for the Jetsons

there's a kind of cheap dusting of space theme over everything. the food isn't salmon but alien salmon. it's not seaweed but alien seaweed. cooking alien stir-fry. come on

cannot get over how clumsily the theming is handled. books, board games, weapon names revolve heavily around space. these people have been living on alien planets for hundreds of years yet have this unending sense of novelty about it. the game takes itself completely seriously but feels like it's attempting to parody itself

people's EYEBALLS are CLIPPING THROUGH THEIR EYELIDS

a woman is speaking to me in french. her accent is about as believable as her haircut

these are some of the worst reflection maps i've ever seen

next to nothing is interactive. you can sit in chairs and sleep in beds and that is about it. can't even drink from people's toilets. disgraceful

game helpfully crashes 5 seconds after i decide i should get some sleep. very handy!

my character has not said a single thing since i started playing. not one peep. this is an unmitigated improvement over Fallout 4 i'm so glad honestly

the more i poke around the big city the more the NPC quips feel like something out of gen-1 pokemon. can't get enough of this coffee :) this city is where it's at :) spacesuits are comfy and easy to wear

very strange sense of altered reality from the quest dialogue too. has anyone at bethesda met a person before? i move on to some mission that has me scanning wildlife on a faraway planet hoping this will, somehow, feel less alien than human conversation

just as with No Man's Sky, every planet is uniformly dotted with equidistantly-placed points of interest that you slowly make your way to (no vehicles besides your jetpack) which always turn out to be some cave or building identical to those you've cleared before

unlike with No Man's Sky, the seamless exploration is faked and the biodiversity is nil. you do get an impressive amount of raw loading screens however

the prefab bases and power stations found everywhere on planets seem to have very sparse, very specific slots for spawning consumables, which results in encountering some giant industrial installation in the middle of nowhere with, i don't know, a loaf of whole-grain sandwich bread just casually sitting next to it all proper. there is no breathable atmosphere here. who is eating this

planetary traversal is a CHORE. i am saying this as someone who loved Death Stranding

heinous "hold to confirm" buttons sprinkled in various flow-breaking places throughout the interface

enemy AI is abominable. nobody is pathing their way to get my ass. "must've been the wind" taken to the next level. an infant playing peekaboo has more object permanence

hoisting yourself up on ledges when jumping is…nice

companions randomly nowhere to be found. persists through multiple fast-travels and loading screens until, just as randomly, they pop back up

storage space is now limited! unlike in Fallout 4 and virtually every other bethesda game, your containers now hold a finite item capacity. god forbid we let the player have fun

baffling inventory UI. i imagine there's a mod out there that completely overhauls it the way SkyUI did for Skyrim. this should not be needed! how are your UIs getting worse a decade later!

scanning the precious few species inhabiting some dusty planet; one of them is this arching red root i've already seen several times before. my job done in this biome, i travel (read: teleport with a loading screen) to the polar region to find some other species. the first one i catalogue is the exact same red root again but this time it's named "boreas root" todd howard is a genius

some alien horror comes at me full fangs out. i hop on a pebble. obscenely, i am safe

procedural terrain generation beyond dull, impossibly unimaginative. these people have not had one critical thought on what makes a procedural world interesting. beginning to feel validated in my belief that only i should be trusted with proc gen. along with perhaps tarn adams

jokes aside this is making me feel genuinely insane. there have been excellent procedural generation techniques that produce compelling explorable maps for decades now. bethesda absolutely has the budget and know-how to do miles better than this yet somehow they just…do not? the same way Pokemon has decided to just no longer bother with their mainline games despite being the highest-grossing media franchise in history? hello? what is for real going on

some of the most cynical breadcrumbing i've seen in years. approaching some random cave and this person in space gear, who in the vast immensity of the infinite cosmos just happens to be snapping pictures right here, tells me more-or-less verbatim "if you like this place, you should see this other place" [other random cave has been added to your map.]

i do not like how good this makes No Man's Sky's gameplay look. it depresses me how much i have to hand it to No Man's Sky for at least not fucking up this bad. please stop making me wish i was playing No Man's Sky instead this is grotesque

i think i've exhausted my interest and patience for this game at the moment. i'll get back to the main story at some point and try some other systems ie. crafting and base-building to see if there's any engagement to be found but so far, my god. my god

[temiizpalace]

☆┆TEND TO MY WOUNDS !

SUMMARY: red alert! he’s injured! it’s alright, for the prefect of ramshackle is here to save the day.

CHARACTERS: leona, jade, jamil, rook, idia

(i spun a wheel to try and write other characters.. jamil and leona just love me teehee)

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: the boys get injured, but nothing is life threatening. — cursing — MENTIONS OF BLEEDING (not fatal)

ROMANTIC, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

🦁┆LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“shit! ow—“

leona groans, feeling the stinging pain of alcohol rubbed onto his forehead. spelldrive didn’t go as it usually did.

everything was normal. practice was going well, and everybody was doing the proper training regiments. it was all fun watching leona and everybody practice by a nearby tree. except leona wasn’t practicing this afternoon.

today, he felt like napping right beside you. he laid his head in your lap, sound asleep. this all goes south when some freshmen decide to mess around, sending the disc flying in your direction.

typically leona would’ve been able to divert it with magic, but feeling a little hazy from barely awakening, it hit him straight on the forehead.

now here you both are, present in the infirmary, leona sitting on the cot, and you being his own personal doctor. “i can’t believe the great leona kingscholar got hit by a spelldrive disc. it is truly an honor to witness it first hand.” you joke, causing him to roll his eyes.

“tch.. whatever— FUCK.” it’s funny to see leona in such a state. one where his tough guy act isn’t all the way up. you thought he’d brush off the pain like a man, but surprise! we learn something new everyday.

“haha.. wait here. i need to find bandages.” you walk over to the cabinet, only to find all the boxes of bandages empty. except for one. a bandaid box. you snicker at the sight of them and take a couple out of the box. leona raises a brow as he heard your giggling in the back til you made your way back towards him.

you stood in front of him and placed the bandaids on his forehead. he liked the close proximity. he likes being by your side. you caring for him like this is actually one of his deepest desires. he won’t ever say it aloud of course, but he hopes you take the hints.

“you are now officially cured.” you grin, finally applying the last bandaid. he stood up, looking you in the eyes. he wanted to thank you. wanted to thank you for helping him. wanted to thank you for caring enough about him to do this. to help him.

but leona being leona cannot say thank you. “..I don’t wanna owe you any favors so,” he pulls out his wallet from his pocket and throws it to you. you catch it, nearly dropping all the thaumarks inside on the floor. “go buy somethin’ while you’re at it.”

he ruffles your hair, walking out of the infirmary. you flip through the wallet, it barely closing due to the amount of cards and thaumarks inside. rich boy privileges go crazy. ruggie wasn’t kidding when he said leona was stinkin rich. all you could do was stand there, shocked.

leona walks back out to the field, hearing the team laugh as he approaches. he looks at them with a puzzled look, the laughing becoming unbearable. “oi, what’s so funny? mind tellin’?”

“cute bandaids ya got there, boss. shishishishi..” ruggie chuckles, looking at leona’s super cute and silly unicorn bandaids on his forehead. at first, he’s confused. then he rips a bandaid off and looks at the patterns.

start running <3

🐬┆JADE LEECH

“jade, stop moving!”

you sigh, trying to place a bandaid on jade’s cut. you wanted to help him cook today since mostro lounge has been extremely busy lately. azul had been working him to the bone, so he used his time off as a way to spend time with you.

only to end up back in the kitchen, but whatever. since you’re there, it’s all good. while chopping a mysterious vegetable, (it’s a mushroom..) he accidentally cut his finger. he wasn’t paying attention to where he was cutting. cause he was looking at you.

normally somebody would wince in pain, but jade is jade. so. “oh my, this is unexpected.” he says, as his blood gets on his gloves and contaminates the mushrooms. “oh my what— OH MY GOSH, JADE.” you yell, as he’s abnormally calm about the fact blood was all over the mushrooms.

so now he’s sitting at one of the barstools in mostro lounge as you try to patch up his finger. anytime the bandaid gets remotely close to the cut, he squirms and jerks his hand away. you can’t tell if he’s messing with you or if he’s just sensitive to touch because he still has his dumb polite smile.

“jade. stop. moving.” you grunt, trying to grab his wrist to hold his hand still. “fufu..” his stupid chuckle is usually very nice but it’s just growing irritating.

for some reason he still has the impulse to tease you. even when injured. all you want to do is care for him, so why is he making this so difficult?! is he waiting for something?

oh. that’s an idea.

“jade, may i see your hand?” you ask, putting the bandaid on the counter. he raises a brow, but complies nonetheless. “of course. do be gentle though, im wounded.” well no shit.

you held his hand gently, raising a finger up to your lips. you place a gentle kiss on his finger. not on the wound exactly, but near it. his eyes slightly widened and his cheeks tinted slightly red. he loses his composure for just a moment, giving you time to apply the bandaid onto his cut.

you smile in victory, standing up from your seat. “there, all better!” you winked at him before making your way back to the kitchen. he sat there, dumbfounded. how curious.. if that’s a way to get free kisses..

“oh dear, it appears i had just cut my lower lip. what a shame. it appears i am in need of some assistance.” this wasn’t even five minutes later.

🐍┆JAMIL VIPER

“you scream like a girl.”

you laugh as jamil looks away from you. he couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes. a little earlier, the both of you were sitting in the lounge of ramshackle as comfortable silence filled the air.

he was flipping through pages of a book while you leaned onto his shoulder, playing a game of some sort on your phone.

“..AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

that silence was interrupted as you heard a high pitched scream next to you, turning your head to see jamil absolutely mortified and panicked.

“JAMIL?! WHAT IS—“ then you spotted it. the wretched cockroach crawling on the table. he shut his book and threw it at the table, missing. now he’s grabbing all nearby objects to kill the insect.

“JAMIL PLEASE CALM DOWN, PLEASE! FUCK, JAMIL—” he ended up using his magic, but used a lil too much. as you held him back, his leg bumped against the table, causing him to scurry back to the couch.

confirming that the roach had cleared the premises, you sat next to him and checked the bump on his leg. his breaths were heavy and a sweat was across his brow. you would’ve thought he looked insanely attractive if it weren’t for the incident just before.

now he’s embarrassed, his hood is pulled over, and he’s pouting as he looks away from you. “i think you got a small cut, but it should be fine. i’ll go get some bandaids!” you hum, getting up from the cushions to find the box of bandages.

he completely humiliated himself in front of you. he was weak in front of you. and he hates that. “im back and here to repair your boo-boo.” you came back with the box, sitting back down and opening it. you remove a bandaid and slowly apply it til you hear him mutter something.

“sorry.”

“hm? sorry, couldn’t hear ya. mind speaking up for me?” you heard him perfectly fine. he irks before speaking up, his tone hinted with annoyance. “sorry.”

“all is forgiven, my love.” you smile, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a hug. he sighs, reciprocating the hug and leaning onto you. “please forget you saw that..” he mumbles, his face practically burning.

you chuckle, playing with loose strands of his hair as the both of you now lied on the couch. “no promises..” he clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, but placed a quick kiss on your cheek. he shuts his eyes, needing to recharge.

“mhm. love you too, jamil.” you whisper, allowing him to rest on your chest. he fell asleep in no time flat. let him rest. or even better yet, join him!

🏹┆ROOK HUNT

“how’d you fall?”

you ask, seeing as rook lied on the ground. i don’t know how to explain his pose, he’s just a theatre kid.

“never mind the details, ma chère. all that matters is that you had rushed to my rescue!” he smiles as you stood there. the most deadpan expression on your face. “i’ll just go get you bandages and not question it.” “merci!”

you rush to the infirmary, grabbing the bandages and rushing out. if nobody knew better, they’d all have assumed that rook was dead. he hasn’t moved an inch.

“where’d you injure yourself?” you ask, crouching down and inspecting his arms. “non, non. you must guess!” he laughs, sitting up right away. you groan as he initiated such an idea. “rook. im not going to guess—“

“if that is the case, ill be stuck in everlasting pain! it’d be unbearable.” he sighs dramatically, causing you to furrow your brow. “fine. did you injure your leg?” you grumble, checking each limb.

he shook his head, smiling like an absolute idiot. “here, allow me to give you a hint.” he grabs your hand guiding it to the place of the wound. of course he can’t do it without teasing you a little.

he places your hand on his shoulder, his hand, his neck, til eventually he stopped on his cheek. “my injury can be found around here.”

you look at his cheek, but there is no cut, scratch, or bruise to be seen. you raise a brow at him, but he has no shift in reaction. “rook, are you lying to me?” rook shook his head, looking you in the eyes. “I wouldn’t lie to you, mon amour. perhaps you need a closer look.”

before he could even explain what that meant, he pulled you towards him. causing you to fall onto him. “can you see it now?” he asks, staring at you lovingly.

you sigh, pulling a bandage out and placing it onto his lips. his eyes widened, but he wasn’t mad. not in the slightest! he wrapped his arms around you. taking this opportunity for a cuddle session.

despite your “annoyance,” you smiled and laughed slightly. “you’re impossible, rook.”

he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, humming happily as you spoke. his fingers intertwined with yours as the sun hit both of your figures. creating a scene resembling one of a fairytale.

💀┆IDIA SHROUD

“you can’t lock yourself into your room because of this.”

you slightly chuckle as you patch up idia’s knee. moments before, his PE class had to do the sprints. looks like he went to class on the wrong day.

while he was running, he tripped on a conveniently placed rock and fell on his knee. ortho quickly went to find you and bring you to idia so that you can comfort him.

he had tears coming from his eyes, which caused ortho to panic. you both carried him to the infirmary since he had an inability to walk. you situated him onto the cot and grabbed some bandages from the cabinets. “don’t worry niisan! the prefect will take good care of you!”

ortho chimed, trying his best to comfort his brother. idia felt his stress lessen, but that doesn’t change the immense pain he was in. “thank you, ortho. but i don’t im ever gonna to go outside again.”

he mumbles, causing ortho to pout. you come back with the bandages, smiling as you sat to the side of the cot. “im gonna have to go explain to coach vargas why you’re not here! hang tight, niisan!”

you waved to ortho, leaving just you and idia in the infirmary. “idia, you’re not going to die because of this.” you smile, placing the bandage onto his knee. idia groans, picking at his fingers. “i looked so cringe just now. definitely not my moment.”

“you didn’t look cringe, idia. you got hurt.” you grabbed his hand and held it in yours. he smiles slightly as you tried to reassure him. it was endearing to him. “thanks.. but i want to lock myself in my room for like ever after this..” he quickly mutters, hoping you wouldn’t hear that. surprise! you heard him.

“no idia, you can’t lock yourself in your room forever after this.” you sigh, realizing this was the man you fell in love with. “what? you can come too. you’d be free from all the normies surrounding you.” he stated bluntly.

“..no.” you hesitantly said, squeezing his hand slightly. you both sat in the infirmary for a few more moments before you sat up and let go of his hand. “can you stand?”

“no.” he quickly replies, not even bothering to try. you stare at him before exhaling deeply. “i’ll bring your switch then. wait here.” he smiled as he watched you exit the room. he appreciated how understanding you were. how you knew what he wanted before he even had to ask. ..well, most of the time anyway.

when you came back, you sat next to him on the cot. you both played smash bros together, playing until the console runs out of batteries. lucky for him, his console lasts for almost an entire week before it runs out of power.

let me just say, he beat your ass in smash bros.

A/N: this sat in my drafts for a very long time. i had to brainstorm A LOT to see how idia could get injured.

date published: 1/27/24

© temiizpalce — don’t steal or copy my work!

[crazilust]

What main character energy should you embody for this next chapter

From left to right : Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3.

Pile 1

confirmation/what’s coming instinctively : Brown eyes, brown, guitar, vynils, green shoes, docs, bangs, rings (lots of them, Virgo/Earth energy, hardwood floors, The Emperor, Goddess energy, Water sign, Water dom, Loves water, loves nature, loves animals, Names that start with a J, F, P, S

the message :

You should embody the main character that moves out of her town to start her character ark. Now, this doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll physicall leave your town (although, you might!) but you definitely need to leave some things behind. I’m sensing friends, maybe even family members. Your environement is getting too small for you, which is maybe why I’m getting small town vibes. You are someone that needs a lot of recognition, even from yourself and you’re not getting any where you are right now. Are you proud of yourself? I doubt it. But you need to make the proper steps to find your place in this universe and there is a place for you but you need to look for it! I see you in a new apartment, maybe a bit lonely at first, but it’s because it’ll be the first time you really get to know yourself and discovering your true self. You have been repressing your true taste, your true interests, your true self with those people you’ve been surrounding yourself with. It’s not healthy and it’s getting dangerous at this point cause you’re starting to lose yourself. Leave. That would be my advice for you.

Pile 2

confirmation/ what i’m getting instinctively: Fighter, Orange is the new black, Piper Chapman, Blue, Glacier, Grey, long hair, fake smile, dimples, the emperor Reversed, bad relationships with caregivers, siblings, many friends, Aquarius, Pisces, car, driving, roadtrip, name that starts with M, N, X, V.

the message :

Woah! Okay! Love this energy, but hard to catch honestly. You don’t like being seen, huh? It’s okay, me neither! The journey you should embark on is the one where you’re gonna get thrown into an environment that is completely unfamiliar to you. A bit like pile 1 in the sense that it’s not something you’re used to, but contrary to that pile, you don’t decide to go into this environment, you’ll get thrown into it. I can sense you have some sort of anger issues and this will be the perfect environment to finally let it out. I can feel that although you have a very polished appearance, you actually feel like a wild animal inside. In this new environment, you’ll finally face yourself as you really are. You won’t be able to fake it, or to act like you’ve always done it. It won’t be possible anymore. You’ll have to be your real self, even tho it might disappoint people around you. Oh, you probably don’t want that. Too bad, because you will disappoint people, but you’ll make some real connections out there. When you’ll get out of that environment (because yes, it is temporary I feel), you’ll look back and won’t even recognize yourself. I think you’re quite excited for that. Deep down.

Pile 3

confirmation/what i’m getting instinctively: Twilight, Bella Swan, break up, torture, painful love, toxic love, mean, smiles with bad intentions, agenda, skinny, long hands, pale (or pale for your ethnicity), doesn’t like their hair, Aries/Taurus/Sag/Pisces, Fire dom, Neptune dom, Jupiter Dom, lucky but fails to see it

the message : Oh I’m getting major Bella Swan vibes lmao. Not necessarily her temperament, but mostly what she’s going thru. You’ve been thru a bad breakup and that person has left you empty inside. You find yourself staring at the window, and wondering why it ended the way it did. Stop obsessing over the past. You’re at a point of your journey where you need to change gear. You cannot keep going like that or you’ll litteraly become a shell of yourself. Get up of your bed, take a deep breath, take a walk. Anything. But reminiscing on someone that is gone, won’t do any good. Btw, they’re gone now but they’ll come back. I know you’re excited, but they’ll come back when you won’t care and then you’ll be like : “huh, i don’t even see what I saw in you anymore”. It’ll be a very satisfying feeling for you. In the meantime, cause you’re not there yet, focus on healing. See some friends, get into a hobby. Anything that could take your mind off of him. Why do you fixate over him? Was he something he did? Or didn’t do? Focus on moving on. That’s your journey for now. That’s the part of movie where we all root and get excited for the protagonist to get on her two feet. That’s your part. You got this.

• 🧡🍯👑🐰🪀 •

and that’s all from me folks, thank you so much 🧡

[nocek]

Some Miguel and Gabriella doodles form last month :) I just hadn't had the motivation to turn them into proper drawings.

But the bottom two actually are part of my headcanons:

So starting with the happy one as in the one on the right:

I headcanon that Miguel actually ended in Gabriella's universe on accident and the multiversal travel didn't exist yet (to be more precise it was invented to look for Gabriella's father because Miguel didn't know that he was dead and just assumed they like switched places or something) and he explained the whole situation to Gabriella rightaway (because there is no way to be able to fit into another dude's life without a hitch even with I was bonked in the head recently excuse).

Gabriella was skeptical but decided to approach whole situation sitcom style. Dad was replaced by awkward but caring dude with superpowers - let's help him but also try the new boundaries. So she approached with hey dad runs twice a week and I ride the bike with him. I can show you our favorite route! And then proceeded to extend the route muuuuuch beyond what was humanly possible for her dad. And then beyond what was possible for her just out of curiosity if Miguel will ask to stop. Well he didn't so now after long ice cream break he needs to carry her home because she totally absolutely is beat and cannot cycle anymore (and also this way is more fun).

And the second separate depressing au headcanon that is not as tied to the picture but I guess I'll share it here:

While the Gabriella's universe was falling apart all the spiders there just grabbed as many civilians as possible and jumped through the portals. So Gabriella and couple dozen displaced people are alive at spiders hq and things are maybe better but also worse.

Since Gabriella is alive Miguel can't go sulk in the corner in his office. He needs to put on a front for her. Which most likely doubles the pressure that he already puts on himself.

Gabriella isn't an idiot and figures it out so she also tries to put on a front.

But to add a little spider whimsy and make the whole thing a bit happier - here comes Gwen.

Miguel was just as grumpy about letting her join spider society as was in the movie buuuuut Gabriela decided that Gwen being the slightly older girl with a little bit of alternative vibe is the coolest person ever and we will be best friends. And you are a ballerina!!!! I want to try ballet too!

Which in turn forced Miguel to be nice like to other Gabriella's friends and maybe be a bit more mindful and realize that Gwen needs more than place to stay and new friends and coworkers. She is too young to just jump into adulthood. She needs her father or better father figure.

And he tries to dump that on Peter B which doesn't work because Peter suffers form serious case of baby brain but also sees Gwen more like a equal adult and friend.

Besides the idea of Miguel trying to be nice and failing at because he approaches it form his experience with Gabriella standpoint while dealing with teenager is kinda fun and I like it.

[murdockparker]

Expectations

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: While the honeymoon may be well and over, the new Mrs. Bridgerton has yet to make her presence in the ton since the wedding. Anxious as ever, she listens to her husband and gives it a go.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, reader is not pregnant, reader does not wish to be a mother, illusions to sex but no smut, drinking and drunkenness, fluffy fluff

A/N: Given the setting and time period, not wanting children is rather taboo, I feel. But not everyone wishes to be a mom and that's okay! I hope I did Benedict (and reader!!) justice!

__

On a far too quiet night in London, candles were beginning to grow short, along with the patience of a newly made missus.

“Must I go tomorrow?” (Y/N) sighed, turning to face her husband in earnest, placing her hairbrush on the vanity. 

“And possibly insult Lady Danbury again this season?” Benedict scoffed, looking up from his sketchbook. He had been making good on his earlier promise of the eve, giving his wife a worthwhile portrait. He had already made countless, of course, but this one was to be the best yet. “Darling you cannot keep avoiding her forever."

“Here I thought that was a Bridgerton specialty,” (Y/N) hummed, turning back to her mirror, keen to note Benedict’s crooked smirk in the reflection. “But if you insist that I cut our honeymoon short—”

“You know better than I that our honeymoon is well and over,” Benedict said, suddenly at his wife’s side, hands growing restless on her shoulders. “As much as it pains me to admit, and it does, truly, the rest of the ton is far too eager to make the newest Mrs. Bridgertons acquaintance.”

Kisses were peppered down her neck, just below her ear, warm and sticky enough to halt her thinking. “Life was much easier in the country,” she reminisced fondly. The lady was unsure if the fact her husband was making dutiful work on her skin was clouding her judgment, but her mind yearned for the weeks they had spent in bed, alone and carefree. “No need for this… fodder.”

“Ah to be a woman in the season,” Benedict jested, brushing her hair aside. “But I do think it’s a right idea to go to the soiree. If it makes you feel better, I do believe the duchess is planning to attend.”

(Y/N) groaned, pushing Benedict away. “Just as you begin to seduce your wife you find it fair to mention your younger sister?” 

He could only laugh. “I was unaware I was seducing my wife, I merely thought I was helping with her hair.”

“And the fine work on my neck was helpful... how?”

His fingers brushed through her hair again, slowly, deliberately. “Well, considering I was partially to blame for it’s unruliness, I figured I could only offer my services. I fear it came across as unhelpful.”

She fought back a grin. “I will go to Lady Danbury’s soiree,” (Y/N) said, looking Benedict in the eyes through the mirror. “But only if you promise to assist with the rest of my… hair.”

“What kind of a husband would I be if I refused?”

—

The carriage ride was as uneventful as she could have imagined. Not only did she loathe the rocking of the cab, but to not have Benedict’s company across from her—or under her—made the entire ordeal less appealing. Still, she persisted through the boredom and arrived to Danbury House, fashionably on time. 

“Mrs. Bridgerton,” Lady Danbury greeted, flicking her cane towards the not-so-new bride. “How lovely you managed to pry yourself from your cottage in the country and rejoin proper society.”

“Lady Danbury,” (Y/N) bowed, smiling as politely as she could. “You think little of me, I would never dare to miss one of your illustrious eves. My mother always spoke fondly of them—as truthful as she decided to be with me, that is.”

“A shame your mother isn’t joining us, those nasty headaches of hers will surely do her in.”

“Father sent for a tea from France,” (Y/N) recalled from her last correspondence with her parents. “I believe it was a recommendation from you, if I am not mistaken?”

“Your parents would do well from listening to me from time to time, I should hope you take the same advice,” Lady Danbury smiled, looking directly at (Y/N), gaze narrowing. “Do enjoy yourself tonight, dear. One tends to forget oneself whilst in a marriage.”

A footman ushered her into the great hall, handfuls of married women of the ton flocked to the walls, drinks already in hand. A few familiar faces flitted her memory as she walked past. Lady Green and Mrs. Harrison, both far too eager to set her up with their respective sons in the last season, smiled kindly as she nodded towards them. Dowager Countess Fairbanks was eagerly replacing her empty glass with another, the loss of Earl Fairbanks was still fresh in the public eye, it seemed. Then, there was Lady Kent, smoking away in the corner, grateful no men were around to stop such nonsense.

“Mrs. Bridgerton! I did not expect to see you here!”

(Y/N) turned to the cheery voice, belonging only to the Duchess Hastings herself.

“Your Grace,” (Y/N) smirked, addressing her sister-in-law properly.

“Daphne,” the duchess corrected, as she had many a time during (Y/N)’s courtship with Benedict. “I must say, I hardly think anyone expected your presence tonight. Surely my brother couldn’t have found it in himself to allow you to escape for the evening easily.”

“I shall spare you the sordid details of my trickery,” (Y/N) said with a murmur, her voice laced with a secret. “Considering they involve your brother and whatever little clothing he possessed.”

“Oh please,” Daphne waved. “You are married, I hardly think it is much to guess you and Benedict have been in such a state thus far.”

“If I may be so honest,” (Y/N) giggled, accepting a flute of a bubbly drink from a server, “he was the one who begged me to attend this evening. I was more of the mind to stay in and continue to enjoy our library here in London.”

“I did not know Benedict’s bachelor lodgings possessed a library.”

“They did not, which is why we purchased a new estate not too far from your Mama’s,” (Y/N) said with a smile. “‘Bachelor no more’, I believe were his exact words when he showed me the deed. It’s quite a lovely place. If I did not prefer the country so much I think I would like to stay here year-round.”

“I expect an invitation for tea sometime, then,” Daphne cooed, clearly overjoyed at her new sister’s happiness. “I assume there’s an adequate number of rooms?”

“Enough for a proper studio for Benedict’s leisure, a modest library for myself, an enchanting dining room and…” Her glass raised to her lips nervously. “I believe that to be all.”

“No nursery, then?”

“You Bridgertons and baby-rearing,” (Y/N) said, nearly sputtering her drink. “I say, you’re already on baby three, is that not correct?”

Daphne nearly radiated with joy at the mere mention of her children—a doting mother in every regard. “Oh yes, number three will be joining us in due time,” her hand grazing over her apparent bump. “But I believe you neglected to answer my question.”

“I think I am in need of far more drink to even entertain the question, dear sister,” (Y/N) downed the rest of her drink, hoping the dim lighting did an adequate job hiding her growing flush. 

“Very well,” Daphne conceded, still holding her small bump as if it were the most precious thing in the world. “I believe Kate has begun in the game room if you wish to join me in finding her?”

“Spending my night with my darling new sisters? Without my husband or your brothers to muck up our conversations and vex us? I must say, that might be your best idea yet, Your Grace. 

The duchess merely laughed as she led present company into the ballroom—now outfitted with many tables to accommodate the games of the night’s festivities. (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, clearly taken aback by the sheer sight of it all. Wives and widows alike, smoking and drinking over every inch of the transformed ballroom.

“I can’t imagine how you’ve managed to come to many of these things,” she shuddered in awe, leaning closer to Daphne.

“I haven’t,” Daphne said truthfully. “I’m usually back at Clyvedon with my family, it just so happens I’m in town on other business this go around to not ignore Lady Danbury.”

While it was difficult to get the Bridgertons all under one roof—with each new marriage and child that task became even more daunting—the brood did get together recently to celebrate the christening of both Edmund and Belinda. Anthony’s first and Daphne’s second. It wasn’t much of a shock that Daphne shared the news of a third Basset at the christening, either.

“Regardless,” (Y/N) took her place at a game table, sitting beside the duchess. “I’d much appreciate the evening to move swiftly, lest I spend more time away from home than I need.”

“Eager to get back in the bedroom with Benedict?”

The new Viscountess Bridgerton, Kate, spoke up behind the ladies as she took it upon herself to be seated next to her sisters.

“I was thinking more along the lines of his study,” (Y/N) hummed, feeling herself grow warm with honesty. “Perhaps our library? We do have a handful of new rooms to enjoy and christen, I think.”

“I recall making a similar promise to Anthony after our honeymoon,” Kate reminisced, smiling wickedly. “Makes me miss such a time in my marriage.”

“Miss a time?” (Y/N) laughed, accepting a drink from a roaming server. “You and Anthony only have been wed a bit over a year. Surely the flame has not died out?”

“No, no, not died out,” Kate quickly corrected. “It’s just, now with Edmund in our care, our flame has dimmed a bit—exhaustion keeps us both at bay to get at it like we once did.”

“Simon and I had a similar take after Amelia and Belinda,” Daphne chimed in. 

“Yet here you are, awaiting your third child in three years,” Kate barked with laughter.

“As you said, sister,” Daphne sipped her lemonade, “it merely dimmed.”

If her face had blanched, the dim lighting of the game room had the entire part of disguising her discomfort at the idea—the mere idea that her want for Benedict could possibly wane. 

“Dimmed,” (Y/N) repeated. 

“Say, it’s been a few months since your wedding,” Kate noted, “do you and Benedict have plans for children soon? I expect with your new house a nursery is just begging to be filled.”

A polite laugh escaped her lips, humor long forgotten. “We haven’t much discussed the matter of children.”

“Oh, come off it!” Kate admonished. “Surely you and your husband want to aid in the Bridgerton grandchildren numbers? I recall Anthony mentioning an old wager between them on who would have the most children."

“A wager—you’re not serious?” 

“Oh, that was merely a jest between brothers, I’m sure,” Daphne said, placing her steady hand on (Y/N)’s. Even in the candlelight, she could tell her newest sister-in-law was having no part in this conversation. “And knowing my brothers, it cannot be held to any regard.”

“Anthony seemed serious enough about it when I was carrying Edmund,” Kate shrugged. “No matter! We are here to play cards, yes?”

It was hard to pay attention to the game at hand—literally. With doubt and endless thoughts swimming through the new Mrs Bridgerton’s head, her glass never emptied and her mind never ceased. She won a sizable amount of money somehow—Daphne mumbled something along the lines of ‘rotten cards’ as she pushed the notes and coins to (Y/N)’s pot. 

“You’re sure you do not wish to spend the night here?” Lady Danbury offered much later in the evening, just as nearly every guest had left. Only the Bridgerton ladies remained. “I can have a guest room made up in a blink.”

“Ben will be anxious for my arrival,” (Y/N) slurred, trying to remain upright. “I shan’t keep him waiting.”

“I thought we intercepted enough of her drinks,” Daphne whispered, words only meant for Kate.

“She must have snuck a few on her way to the chamberpot,” the viscountess realized, albeit a bit too late. 

“I can handle my drinks just fine,” (Y/N) said, trying to cross her arms. It only took her two attempts. “Honestly, I just want to get home to my husband, thank you.”

“I will ride with her to her estate,” Daphne offered, already getting in (Y/N)’s carriage. “My carriage will follow close behind and I will retreat as soon as I see her enter her home safely.”

“What a good sister you are,” (Y/N) cooed, hand cupping Daphne’s face lovingly. “I wish I had a sister like you.”

“If you remember anything, let it be this, please just write to me in the morning,” Kate sighed, giving up hope on the cause. “Lest you want an angry visit from me tomorrow after you break your fast.”

“Get home safe,” (Y/N) listed, “write to Kate, do not make her angry. I think I got it.”

“Perhaps we should pin a note to her dress?” Lady Danbury laughed.

“I shall tell one of the maids to remind her,” Daphne said. “So she has no excuse.”

“You lot are being awfully nice to me,” (Y/N) said, stepping up into the carriage. The footmen were doing most of the work. “Nicer than I deserve right about now.”

“You’re family,” Kate said simply. “Besides, I reckon we have a part to play on just how much you’ve drank…”

“Quite,” Daphne nodded. (Y/N) began to look rather green. “Lady Danbury, I don’t suppose you have a pot or vase you don’t care much about?”

Wordlessly, a butler came running, holding a rather ornate bowl in his hands. After passing it off to the duchess, (Y/N) took it quickly and held it close to her head. 

“Do make sure Mrs. Bridgerton cleans it thoroughly before returning it.”

—

The sunlight hurt. 

In all of her years on this planet, the sunlight had never hurt as much as it did in this moment. A errant afternoon in the park, perhaps, leaving her skin a tad bit warm to the touch, but never did it sting like this.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Benedict sighed, walking over to her side of the bed. When had she gotten in bed?

“Unfortunately,” (Y/N) groaned, somehow managing to pull herself up to be seated. Her husband—doting as he was—had a tray of food and a pitcher of water waiting for her. “What’s this?”

“Charcoal,” Benedict tried his best to make it sound appetizing. By the look on his wife’s face, it had failed. “I had Cook mix it with some marmalade on bread to help with the taste. You need to sop up the booze somehow, love.”

“I didn’t drink that much,” (Y/N) lied, knowing full well she couldn’t fool even herself with it.

“I have never seen you in such a state,” Benedict nearly whispered, setting the silver tray on her lap. “I already sent correspondence to Daphne to thank her for insuring you got home safely.”

She took a hesitant bite of the bread. It wasn’t as awful as she imagined. Left much to be desired, sure, but it would do the job.

“I sent to Kate,” Benedict continued. “Told her you would meet her for tea later this week, as you obviously needed your sleep this morning.”

Another bite of the bread managed to go down before she reached for the glass of water in Benedict’s hand. “Thank you for that.”

“I’m still at a loss, however,” Benedict sighed. “What exactly went on at Danbury House?”

“I believe I need far more charcoal bread to entertain that conversation.”

“(Y/N).”

“It was a ladies night,” she chewed, trying her best to swallow her bite. “I cannot share what lewd gossip possibly came from it.”

He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, beginning to wring his wrists mindlessly as he searched for the correct words to say. She hadn’t seen him do it since the day he proposed. Benedict Bridgerton was anxious.

“You said something, last night,” he finally confessed.

“I reckon I said a lot last night,” (Y/N) laughed lightly, polishing off her unfortunate breakfast.

“As I was trying to get you into bed, you kept mumbling a bunch of incoherent nonsense,” Benedict smirked lightly, “most of it made me laugh.”

“Glad to be a never-ending source of your entertainment.”

“You mentioned something about a baby.”

She didn’t dare look up at him.

“A few times, actually,” Benedict said. “Now, I don’t know what came of it, perhaps Daphne’s new addition sparked such an interest or you are with child now but—”

“But you wish for a baby,” (Y/N) finished for him, clasping her hands together. “Soon, yes?”

“What?”

“You purchased a new estate,” her hand motioned to their large bedchamber, “with various new rooms to fill with Bridgerton babies. A nursery already set up by our staff is only just down the hall. It’s only natural you expect that of me, given our honeymoon is over.”

“I bought our new home because my bachelor lodgings had nothing you loved,” Benedict corrected. “You yourself said you wished for an extensive library—I merely acted on those wishes.”

“Everyone expects us to have a baby soon,” (Y/N) groans, head in her hands. “All night I kept getting bombarded with questions and speculations about it! Most of it came from my very own family! Sure, I can handle a bit of gossiping from ladies who have nothing better to talk about, but my new family?”

“I had no idea—”

“It was the sole reason I had no desire to go last eve!” (Y/N) finally shouted, as if she meant to reach the heavens. “I know what is expected of me as a wife but what if—what if I don’t wish for that?”

“You do not wish for children?”

“No!” (Y/N) shook her head. “Well, maybe? Augh! I do not know!”

Benedict’s weight shifted on the bed, having now sat by his wife’s legs. “You do not need to know.”

“Of course I do,” she gasped. “I was raised for two things—to marry a respectable man and to have his respectable babies. One of those things I accomplished without much of a second thought—” 

“I’m glad you thought so little about marrying me,” Benedict jested.

“That is not what I meant and you know it.”

“It made you smile, so I think the comment was well worth it.”

It had made her smile, she realized. The near-permanent frown of the morning seemed to have eased away with her husband’s jest.

“Every time someone asked me about it,” (Y/N) finally admitted, “I found another drink to drown myself in. I don’t believe anyone but perhaps Daphne really saw what was happening.”

“Does the idea of children really cause you such anguish?”

“It’s just—we’re so happy now,” (Y/N) took Benedict’s hand in her own. “I don’t want to muck up the joy and elation we have in each other by bringing a baby into the mix so soon.”

“We never really spoke on the topic,” Benedict said. “In our courtship, I mean. Usually a topic such as that one finds its way onto the stage, but somehow we evaded it.”

She held her breath.

“Truth be told, I never really gave children much of a thought, if at all,” Benedict chuckled, “far too interested in other pursuits. But, that’s not to say such a topic hasn’t been on my mind of late.”

“Has it?”

“Well, with my new nieces and nephew running around—crawling, I suppose—it may have sparked interest in me, yes,” Benedict looked directly at his wife. “But, for all intents and purposes, having a child requires two people and if you have any hesitancy in the topic—no matter little or seemingly small—I do not wish to further the endeavor.”

“What if I am never ready?” Her voice was small, the sound nearly dissolving against the down of the bedding.

“Then we will live a perfectly happy life regardless. You with your books and me with my paint,” Benedict squeezed her hand. Full of love, full of support. “More importantly, we will live such a happy life together.”

Perhaps it was the headache, or the pain from the bright morning sun, but (Y/N) felt the tears she had been holding back finally spill down her cheeks. Without even a second thought, Benedict pulled her into his arms and allowed her to cry, rubbing her back with thoughtful circles. He had somehow already moved the tray out of the way, as if he was preparing for a reaction like this. He knew her too well, knew her better than anyone could ever plan to know her. This thought only made her cry harder.

“What did I do to deserve you?” (Y/N) asked no one in particular, sniffling as she tried to compose herself. 

“I rather think I should be asking you that,” Benedict said softly, kissing her brow.

“You truly do not care if I never decide to want children?” (Y/N) asked again, needing to hear her husband’s answer one more time.

“You could decide tomorrow and change your mind a hundred times and I will always be in your corner,” Benedict said seriously. “That is what a husband does. That is what I do for you.”

She smiled.

“Although, I will need to take special care in ensuring you do not become with child accidentally—we’ve been lucky thus far, but I do not consider myself much of a betting man…”

“Were the races last week an oversight, then?”

“Ah, but that was a sure thing,” Benedict snuggled her closer, “what was merely a point to best my brother ended up with us having a healthy amount of spending money! More paints and books in our possession. A win-win if I ever saw one.”

“Kate mentioned something last night,” (Y/N) tried her best to look up at Benedict, but his tight embrace made it difficult. “Something about a bet you and Anthony had regarding children?”

“Oh,” his cheeks flushed, “that.”

“So it is true?”

“In the sense we made such a bet? Yes,” Benedict nodded. “But we made that bet years ago—back when the only idea of us having children regarded heirs for the title, never fathoming we’d do it out of love.”

“What did you wager?”

Benedict smiled, finally pulling away from his wife to look at her directly. “Five pounds.”

“That is all?” She nearly shrieked with laughter. “With such a serious bet I truly would have thought you would have put more on the wager.”

“I suppose I am still expected to pay up one day,” Benedict said thoughtfully. “Perhaps I shall gift it to him on Edmund’s eighteenth birthday?”

She smiled at the thought. “I think that would make an excellent present.”

“Because even if we are to have any children,” Benedict continued, “and that is still very much up in the air, surely Anthony and Kate will be constantly going at it to rival my dear Mama for the title of most Bridgerton babes.”

“Giving him a win regardless,” (Y/N) said. “I believe you’re right.”

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel this way about children,” Benedict said, “I never want you to feel as if your voice does not matter. We are equals in this marriage—partners—in every sense of the word.”

“I may one day change my mind,” (Y/N) amended, choosing her words carefully. “But as of right now, I think we’re perfectly suited the way we are.”

“Well suited, indeed,” he agreed, pressing another kiss to her cheek. “But, I do think this morning calls for a bath—as much as I adore your natural musk, my love, I already had the staff begin to warm water up for you.”

She took a moment to sniff herself. She smelled of sick, smoke and booze. How Benedict was not repulsed was beyond her. “Oh. I suppose a bath is… ideal.”

He rose from the plush bed, outstretching his hand for his wife to take.

“A bath for two, I should mention,” he grinned wickedly. A grin she had loved from the minute she met him. A grin that made her feel wanted and safe, all in the same breath.

She took his hand.

[sue-me-wright]

New lings just dropped, also full of crime

Made my ocs from a lil rp server I'm in heehoo

You know how I've been "working" on a Ling Picrew, well, it's been several months and I have had no motivation to continue it.

I sincerely do wish to finish, but I haven't been "doing okay" for a while, so I will let you guys play with what I had done for the longest time.

https://picrew.me/secret_image_maker/oSWSmODJ2obebfnq

Please enjoy and, if anything, leave suggestions or share your little creature.

[fastlikealambo]

The third wife of rhaenyra targaryen.|| rhaenyra targaryen x black!fem reader

In the five years since Queen Rhaenyra The Conqueror, Bringer of New Valyria, triumphed over the usurper without losing a single dragon, the realm is at peace. Having no need of husbands and taking two other wives, Queen Alicent and Queen Mysaria, the dragon queen is in need of a third and final wife to rule the seven kingdoms at her side.

You were just a girl from nowhere, watching the sky fill with dragons at peace, destined to be a scullery maid in a vicious household and the future wife of a ratcatcher until fate and blood decide your future for you. 

History will remember Rhaenyra Targaryen as the great unifier, the second coming of Visenya Targaryen who brought another golden age of dragons out of war. But they will sing songs of you, the smallfolk who ascended to fire and blood as the queen’s favorite, the one they tried to kill so many times, the third wife of rhaenyra targaryen.

Some notes: Aegon, Aemond, and Daemon are dead but their dragons were saved, Alicent and Haelena were sent to Oldtown, and Otto Hightower and Criston Cole spontaneously combusted, I don’t know what to tell yall. Luke lived, Jaehaerys lived, Baela and Rhaena are happy goddammit. 

Some other notes: This is dark, Rhaenyra is in her Paul Atreides era, and I drew some inspiration from Cinderella and Hurrem Sultan (the fictional representation of her from the show's magnificent century but nobody I know watches that show). Rhaenyra is in her thirties and reader is in her twenties. 

Trigger warnings for violence, murder, abuse. MINORS DNI

This is a rough teaser chapter to see if there’s any interest in this fic so if you like it please reblog it or leave a comment! Feedback is how I write :)

Chapter One: the fate of a flea. 

 “I heard she fed her husband to Syrax!”

 “I heard she burned the last two wives!”

 “She's going to choose me, there’s no doubting that.”

 “ Yeah, to be her cupbearer!”

You tried to block out the chatter of your employer and her daughters and concentrate on mending one of their hems, but each bump  from your place on the floor of the rickety carriage, made it near impossible.  

“Hurry up Flea, we’re almost there!” One of the daughters said, her slipper meeting your ribs to make you go faster but you dared not complain. 

You would have been there an hour ago but the decision to take the carriage was not your own. You would have much preferred to watch the dragons arrive with your mother in the market, far from the crowds that propelled them towards The Red Keep. 

 You needed the coin and being some rich lady’s maid who couldn’t afford the proper ones with training but could afford you instead kept good bread on the table. 

Or at least it did.

The Lady hadn’t paid you in two weeks.

  “Remember to smile when you’re presented before the Queen, smile and be silent. Perhaps if you do well, she’ll want two wives instead of one and we’ll never have to rewear a gown again. New gowns and maids who actually know what they’re doing.” The Lady said and you didn’t have to lift your gaze to know she was staring at you.

  “Don’t worry Flea, you’ll have a place in the dragon queen’s court. We’ll put in a good word with the ratcatcher!”

All three of them exploded with laughter at that and when the carriage came to a sudden stop you were too happy to watch them slide all over the carriage.

  “I’m sorry mistress, this is as far as I can go.” The driver said.

The daughters adjusted themselves before leaving the carriage, ignoring their mother’s calls to wait for her,

It was now or never.

“My lady, I need to speak with you.”

  “You’ll stay in the carriage, the queen need not see you.” The Lady said, starting to move towards the door.

  “My lady, you have not paid me. I have waited and waited and happily assisted with all the preparations but I cannot go home without coin today.  Please, my mother needs me, I’ll take half if you have that right now but we have no more bread.” You said quietly but firmly.

   “You haven’t earned your pay for the full day yet so we’ll discuss this no further.”

    “My lady, my mother is-

    “Your mother will have to make do as the rest of the smallfolk do. Perhaps she can have that bowl of brown I always hear about. I’m sure she’ll-

You’re not quite sure what happened next but it ended with The Lady dead on the carriage floor, her neck at an odd angle, face bloody and concaved.

You sank to the floor beside your dead employer, your fearful cries went unheard as the sound of Syrax’s roar filled the air around King’s Landing.

Queen Rhaenyra had arrived.

Her daughters would see you dead for this, your mother would starve, your life was lost.

Unless it wasn’t.

As luck or the gods would have it, The Lady bled into her own hair and not a single drop had spilled on the crimson colored gown. 

It seems you have time to finish the hems after all.

“You stand before Queen Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Princess of Dragonstone, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men,  Lady of The Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Bringer of New Valyria.  Why should you sit by her side?”

The same question had been asked of every lady in front of you who entered the throne room and each dismissed moments later either by Princess Rhaenys, the Hand of The Queen or Queen Rhaenyra herself. You could not bring yourself to look at the queen each time the doors opened and closed, a single glance in her direction would bring you to further ruin.

Both The Lady’s daughters could not see you but you could see them each leave the throne room in tears. 

A chance to be queen would not be the only thing they would mourn today. 

The doors opened and you found yourself escorted into the throne room. 

“You stand before Queen Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Princess of Dragonstone, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men,  Lady of The Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Bringer of New Valyria.  Why should you sit by her side?”

You looked at the dragon queen in all her beauty and might upon the Iron Throne and instantly it all became clear.

You would not leave this room in tears. 

  “I wish to be anointed.”

the story continues here.

@asvterias

@nxcxllxsevens

@newcaptainofsquad9

[multific]

A Little Bit of Jealousy

Davos Blackwood x Reader

Summary: Your husband loves you very much. And he would fight anyone in your honour.

Whenever someone is invited to your home, your husband always makes it into an entire deal.

A feast and celebration.

So, when Lord Stark decided to visit House Blackwood, you knew you needed to be ready. 

A proper Lady.

"Please behave this time." you looked at Davos as the doors opened and your guests arrived.

"I always do." he smiled at you, such a wicked one, but you loved it.

Perhaps the last Lord would disagree with him.

You still couldn't believe that Davos killed a man simply because he didn't like the way he looked at you.

However as Lord Cregan Stark entered your home and sat down to have dinner with you, you must admit that he was quite the handsome man.

Your heart belonged to Blackwood, but you still had eyes. 

Davos had great conversations with Cregan. 

The Starks and Blackwoods seem to get off to a great beginning.

You knew your husband had noticed the way you looked at Cregan. He always did.

"Your eyes wander," he said during dinner, you gave him a smile.

"But my heart never wavers," you said with a promise as he lifted your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on it.

His jealousy was obvious and he had killed men for less, but there was just something about Lord Stark.

Something that stopped Davos from uttering a single word about you.

Maybe it was because Cregan didn't even dare to look your way.

He respected you not like the other lords who visited your home.

Later that evening, you excused yourself, you never liked drinking, it always made your head hurt, not like the careless sensation some men claimed to have.

Your head started to pound by the time you arrived in your room.

You were never really one for wine and such. It always made your head hurt, much like now. 

You excused yourself from your guests and headed to your chambers.

You wished to wash your face and lay down a little.

Just as you managed to sit down on your bed, wearing your sleeping gown, the door behind you opened and your husband came in.

"Darling? They told me you weren't feeling well."

"It's the wine, you know how it gets me."

"I do know. Lay down, let me change and we can sleep."

"I do not wish to keep you from our guests."

"Nevermind them, Lord Stark saw the bottom of his cup enough." Davos soon joined you in bed as you laid down in his arms.

"I believe Lord Stark is a great addition to our circle."

"Are you saying that because he is handsome?"

"Yes." you had no hesitation. You felt his chest rise and lower as he let out a long sigh.

"I hate to admit, but Cregan is a good man. Unlike the others, he is trustworthy."

"And handsome, you forgot that part." you let out a yawn, your head already feeling better.

"Oh, yes. At least you will have something to look at when he visits."

You let out a chuckle.

"You do know I do not want him or any other Lord, right? I married you because I love you."

"I know. But I do hate when they look at you."

"You cannot kill every man who looks at me."

"I can try." he said with a laugh and you did join him. "I love you too, My Darling." he said and placed a kiss on your head.

He reached for your hand and squeezed it. 

You knew very well that he loved you. It was the only reason he killed or tried to kill men before.

And you might just be just as crazy as he is when it comes to jealousy.

But he doesn't need to know about those incidents. 

House of the Dragon Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @darlingmira @stygianoir @snowtargaryen​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[sagesolsticewrites]

Masters of the Air Masterlist

Major Gale “Buck” Cleven

Kiss It Better? 💋 - my very first MOTA drabble based on the prompts “boo boo kisses” & “ pet names” (base nurse!reader)

Kiss It Better pt 2 💋 - That lipstick mark leads to a surprising turn of events 👀

Major John “Bucky” Egan

Oblivious - Bucky’s been trying to get your attention for months now, but you continue to misinterpret his romantic advances as friendship. Everyone else on base is tired of seeing you two dance around each other, and they decide to take matters into their own hands.

Homecoming - John finally returns home to his girl (based on the prompt “carrying the other one in their arms”)

requests are open!

Lt. Harry Crosby

Just Say Yes - Tooth-rotting fluff based on the prompt “If you asked me to marry you tomorrow, I’d say yes.” “What about today?”

Harry Crosby Certified Wife Guy™️ - minific about Croz being head over heels for his wife and the entire 100th knows it

Dear… - A series of letters from one Lt. Harry Crosby to his wife 🤍 (a sort-of continuation of Just Say Yes, but can be read as a standalone!)

A Little Fire - In which Harry Crosby shows his wife exactly how much he appreciates her 😏 (spicy!! 18+!! minors begone!!)

Heat Wave - It’s the hottest summer Iowa’s had in a while. Your husband wears shorts. It gets even hotter (spicy!! 18+!! minors begone!!)

In My Arms - Sometimes your husband just needs to be held. (lots and lots of fluff) (coauthored with Winnie!)

Yes, Major - … I mean. Do I even need to say it? 👀 Dom!Croz (spicy!! 18+!! minors begone!!)

requests are open!

Sgt. Ken “Kenny” Lemmons

• requests are open!

Lt. Curtis “Curt” Biddick

To The Rescue - in which your friends drag you out to a bar against your will, but you meet a certain soldier that makes it worth it

requests are open!

Major Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal

Take A Break - Rosie runs into a childhood friend at the flak house

Welcome Home - Rosie finally returns home after his second tour, and you take the opportunity to show him exactly how much you missed him 🫠 (spicy!! 18+!! minors begone!!)

It’s Been A Long, Long Time series:

Kiss Me Once - The moment you’ve been anxiously awaiting is finally here — your boyfriend Rosie Rosenthal finally arrives home

Kiss Me Twice - You and Rosie finally have a “proper reunion” 😏😉 (spicy!! 18+!! minors begone!!)

Kiss Me Once Again - Rosie takes you to his apartment for a proper date night away from his family 😏 (18+ minors dni!)

requests are open!

Captain John Brady

Brady’s Smash Wagon - Your boyfriend (Captain John Brady) takes you (his Red Cross girlfriend) to see his Flying Fortress. Shenanigans ensue 👀 (spicy!! 18+!! minors begone!!)

Love’s Light Wings - John Brady x Juliet Thompson (OFC)

Pen Pal - Jules gets a letter from her boy an ocean away— as well as a message from a new friend. (taking place pre-LLW prologue, just a little blurb about Jules getting the letter Olive wrote to her in Part 7 of @winniemaywebber’s masterpiece Honeysuckle Rose!)

Hot Summer Night - In which John Brady helps his wife through a stiflingly hot New York summer night (18+ minors dni)

Yes, Captain - Things are getting steamy for the Bradys when Jules lets a certain title slip— John decides he likes it (18+ minors dni)

Prologue (“for stony limits cannot hold love out”)

Chapter 1 (“as boundless as the sea”)

Chapter 2 (“the course of their love never did run smooth”)

requests are open!

Captain Bernard “Benny” DeMarco

Pyaar Dosti Hai - Benny DeMarco x Ruthvika Patel (OFC)

Chapter 1 - Ruthie Patel runs into a certain furry member of the 100th Bomb Group— and his owner— on her way to celebrate her friend Juliet’s engagement to John Brady. The gang quickly welcomes her into their found family, but there could be something more between her and Benny DeMarco— if either of them ever finds the courage to make a move.

requests are open!

Anthony Boyle

Sundress - in which date night takes a turn when Anthony sees the outfit you’ve chosen (spicy!! 18+!! minors begone!!)

Lipstick Kisses - the sweetest, spiciest Anthony fic y’all ever saw (feat… uh, Things Happening in cars 👀) written by my bestie Winnie!!! (spicy!! 18+!! minors begone!!)

Pillow Talk - Anthony is in desperate need of rest & relaxation when he returns home from his latest project, and you’re more than happy to provide it. (coauthored with Winnie!!!)

Come and Kiss Me - Anto takes you as his date to the Oscars. Things get very soft and veryyyy spicy (spicy!! 18+!! minors begone!!)

The Stache Fic - Anto grows a mustache. You like it… a lot. (spicy!! 18+!! minors begone!!)

Better Kind of Best Friend - Anthony, your friend-with-benefits, stops by for an impromptu visit after an interview. (spicy!! 18+!! minors begone!!)

No Rush - just a soft lil makeout blurb <3

Freckle Kisses - very short very sweet lazy morning blurb

Waking Up Next to You - soft lazy morning smut <3 (spicy!! 18+!! Minors begone!!)

i thought we had no chance (and that’s romance) - You resolve to tell Anthony about your feelings— with surprising results. (Part Two to Better Kind of Best Friend) (spicy!! 18+!! Minors begone!!)

[its-elioo]

RnM Headcanons:

I promised to write some headcanons about the girls and their guardians some time ago. I finally had motivation to write them down, so here there are!

Optimus Prime and Sunset Shimmer:

- Sunny never had a father figure in her life and really enjoys it when they spent time together

- Optimus is very caring and protective of his charge

- You know this thing where you tell your dad you like this specific stuff and then he brings you more? That’s definitely OP

- One time he overheard Sunset having discussion with Pinkie Pie about their favorite desserts. After mentioning that she really likes strawberry cheesecake, and that’s her favorite fruit, Optimus swiftly assigned himself a mission

- Later, when Sunset had to leave her home to get some groceries, she was greeted by bunch of wooden boxes full of strawberries on her front door

- She was flabbergasted

SS: Optimus- how did you-?!

OP: I heard you mentioning that you enjoy this specific type of fruit.

SS: You didn’t need to bring me a whole stack of it!

OP: Oh, apologies… Do you perhaps need more?

SS: Wha- NO!

- They both like reading so they will certainly share their opinions or recommend some of the books they like (especially history ones)

- Usually there are moments when one of them starts feeling down while talking about their past

- Lots of comfort and reassurance

- You cannot tell me Sunset hasn’t call him ‘dad’ at least once on accident

- She will most likely feel super embarrassed about it, however, Optimus will start crying from the inside

- One time she even decided to draw him a portrait as a small gift (he kept it in his quarters and smiles every time he sees it <3)

Arcee and Twilight Sparkle:

- You guys know Eda and Luz from the Owl house? That’s them. Except that Arcee is waaay much more of a strict and protective mom figure

- This motorcycle lady doesn’t understand half of the science stuff her charge is saying but that doesn’t mean she is not listening

- Calls her ‘kid’ most of the time, even though Twilight said she was a full grown adult who can take care of herself

- Arcee has these ‘mother/carrier instincts’ she just can’t help but WORRY

- Really enjoys to rest besides her human companion and listen to her talking

- Fun fact: it took a bit longer for Arcee to realize that she had become a parental figure... again

- One time, Twilight asked if she can learn some words of their Cybertronian language and Arcee gladly accepted to teach her

- They often go out for a drive, especially when Twilight gets too overwhelmed with work

- How many times did this girl fell asleep while doing her studies? Arcee lost count.

- Robot mom grabs a blanket, wraps it around her and carries her to somewhere more comfortable

- Heck she will even hold her till she wakes up if she can’t find a place for her to take a proper rest

- Will kick anyone’s ass/aft if they disrupt her sleeping

- Brains and brawn duo

Knock Out and Rarity:

- So stylish and dramatic

- *cough* theatre kids *cough*

- Can literally stare at you with judging faces while also gossiping about your appearance

- Shopping? Oh, absolutely.

- What’s better than having a guardian who can transform into a car and carry your bags in his vehicle mode?

- To return the favor Rarity offers him a hand with polishing his finish

- They have this ‘relaxation day’ once in a while

- Buffing, manicures, watching movies, trying on some makeup or outfits, you know it

- He really wanted to try these types of masks which made your skin cleaner and softer. Doesn’t give a flying frag if he is a robot, will even use a mass displacement to try it out

- Knock Out is kinda touch starved and it didn’t took Rarity too long to realize that

- Her guardian often suggests if he can hold her or if she wants to sit on his shoulder-pad while he works

- This big cherry bot really enjoys to run his digit around her curly hair or to playfully poke her cheeks

- As his best friend, she always gives him compliments for the good work he has done

- There was even a moment when she was in her robot form and she cupped his face-plate while praising him

- And let me tell you. Knock Out was absolutely stunned. He was on the verge of TEARS. (poor boy needs more love and attention)

- Hugs are a must, he just starves for them

- Appreciates it a lot whenever Rarity is there for him

Sideswipe and Rainbow Dash:

- SIBLINGS SIBLINGS SIBLINGS

- They are the MASTERS of pranks

- Chaos, absolute chaos I tell you

- Pretty cocky and competitive too

- Some of their team members even wonder how are they not related??

- Often show off their abilities and talk about how they are 'the most skilled person/bot there ever is'

- They share one brain cell

- Both of them care deeply for each other, they just show it through actions. They aren’t really into the sharing feelings conversations but if things get pretty tough, they will have to talk about it, whether they like or not

- Sideswipe has these overprotective habits where he keeps his optics on her all the time or stays pretty close during any dangerous situations. This dude just doesn’t want to see her getting harmed otherwise he will flip out

- During their free time they like to play video games, go racing or just go for a casual drive, have training exercises (soccer, fighting etc.) or to annoy the rest if they are bored and have nothing else to do

- Will never tell this to anyone else but there a few occasions when they like to rest together

- Imagine one of them has a nightmare or can’t fall asleep. It’s snuggle time.

-If he is recharging in his vehicle form, Rainbow will grab a pillow and curl up on the seats OR he will lay on his chassis and rest his helm over his crossed arms, then he can nestle her close to his face-plate

- Sideswipe is a music enjoyer so he will definitely hype her up when she plays the guitar

- Rainbow teaches him all of the slangs and memes she can think of

- They cover one another or make up excuses if they want to go out to have some fun

- Dash pretty often forgets about things she needs to do (chores, homework or smth else) but her guardian is there to remind her

Bumblebee and Fluttershy:

- The 'parent friends' of the group

- Bee has these awful dad-jokes that he uses and somehow Shy is the only one that will laugh at them

- Some of their teammates tease the two about them acting just like love-bugs

- Bumblebee was so delighted when Fluttershy got out of her shell and finally felt comfortable around him

- Finds it adorable when she becomes too flustered and covers her face

- Like to talk about their interests and listen to each other

- Sometimes he gets a bit nervous and forgets how to properly talk (even if it’s a compliment or want to ask her something) she thinks it's cute

- If she gets too scared her first instinct is to quickly hide behind him

- He really loves listening to their band’s music when they practice at the base

- Both enjoy the late night drives when they can relax

- They often talk about Earth and it’s most incredible places they have seen or wish to explore. Bee will probably plan a short trip just for the two of them, the Groundbridge is right there!

Smokescreen and Pinkie Pie:

- This two are always full on energy

- Will never get bored when they are together, they will find something fun or mischievous to do

- *gasp* Oh no, Smokey is sad? Np! Pinkie is here to help! She has her ways of cheering people up.

- Poor big bot wishes he could taste human food. Every time he sees her amazing baked goods he pouts

- One day she made some cupcakes with blue-yellow icing that matched his color scheme (he didn’t cry after that nooo)

- He can get anxious tho, especially when Pinkie is too carefree (he doesn’t want his human to get hurt after all)

- Smokescreen is a show-off so he usually tries to impress her with his fighting abilities and speed

- This sweet girl always encourages him and supports her guardian no matter what

- He is amazed by the many talents she has (baking, playing the drums, roller skating etc.) like how?? What she can’t do?!

- Will always remain surprised by her hair. She keeps so many things inside, how is that even possible? Guess it will remain a mystery.

Bulkhead and Applejack:

- When I tell you AJ is one of the strongest members in the team, I mean it

- She can lift every heavy and large bot with EASE

- Their hugs are so funny and adorable she sometimes doesn’t realize she is actually lifting him from the ground

- Often talk about the good old days or the cool adventures they had

- Sometimes they have wrestling competitions and what do you know, AJ wins them all!

- If no one else is around, Bulkhead will help her out with the chores in the apple farm

- Will sometimes stumble on something by accident and apologize immediately

- Applejack thinks his clumsy and nervous side is pretty sweet

- She always appreciates his assistance (even tho he crushed several trees, oops)

- He definitely likes hearing her cute snorts when she laughs

[fayes-fics]

A Cure For Boredom

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict finds a cure for your boredom during a party

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, dom/sub undertones, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, makeshift blindfolds, edging, dirty talk, quickie vaginal sex, mentions of gagging and exhibitionism.

Word Count: 1.5k

Authors note: Not a request fill, but I went where my muse requested as it's been so long since it let me write anything. This started life as an idle idea I had scribbled for a different fic, but it's decided to be a one-shot instead. I'm hoping this means my writing muse is returning. Enjoy <3

The makeshift blindfold he has made from one of your silk stockings drags over your eyelashes as you blink rapidly. Stifling a moan and shuddering as his teeth graze your neck, knowing you are pushing the boundaries of his rules by making any noise but unable to stop yourself. 

“Silence,” he reminds, the tone dripping with bemusement. “Or I cease.” You fold your lips under your teeth and bite down in an attempted display of obedience. “That’s better.” You can practically hear the predatory smile in his tone.

With your sight robbed, your other senses are heightened. A spike of fear pulses through your bloodstream, and your head jerks to the left as you hear people talking, or rather gossiping, loudly as they stroll by, likely quaffing champagne. It sounds like they are in the same room even though you know a thick door separates you. 

“It is alright; they have no reason to come in here,” he reassures, as your fingernails claw apprehensively at the polished, sturdy mahogany bookcase he has you sprawled against. “Besides, my darling, you were the one who stated you were bored at this soirée a scant twenty minutes ago,” he points out laconically, biting your earlobe gently before adding, “You are not bored now, are you?

You shake your head rapidly, feeling his hot breath dusting your cheekbone.

“Good,” he says duskily. “Now, where were we?”

It’s rhetorical. He knows exactly where he was—setting you a challenge as wonderful as it is awful. To stay completely silent as he fingers you mercilessly. Indeed, three of his long shapely digits are buried deep inside you, his knuckles stretching your pussy walls wide, clinging to him, his thumb teasing your clit. Your spine is resting on what are likely priceless leather-bound tomes, and he has one of your feet hitched onto a low shelf, your dress gathered around his forearm. No doubt, the host of this party wished for his private library to be off-limits for this evening’s party. Trust Benedict to flout any and all suggested rules.

Quiet whimpering through your nostrils is your begging, asking him not to edge you anymore. You feel strung out and sweaty, needing release more than anything. The frill of his shirt cuff tickles your inner thigh, and his steely cock brandishes your hip through his britches, teasing you with possibility. Part of you wants him to unbutton and just fuck you so hard that every book, from floor to ceiling, is rattled from its elegant place.

“Please, Benedict,” you mewl under your breath, writhing on his fingers, frustrated he’s not quite giving enough to push you over the precipice he has you dangled over.

His responding laugh contains an edge of menace. “But where is the fun for me, my darling, if I cannot make this a proper challenge? Bring you close to ecstasy as many times as I wish, as you have to stay quiet.” You just know his eyes are glittering darkly even though you are unable to see them.

“I cannot be silent,” you murmur, “you feel too good,” hoping the flattery will make him take pity and finally let you over the edge.

“You can and you will,” he counters, smirkingly, not taking the bait.

In fact, he even withdraws his fingers from you, a lewd, drenched sound as he does so. You pout and whine in protest as his fingertips trail wetness down the leg that still touches the floor.

“If you don’t stay silent, I’ll just gag you with your other stocking, my love,” his threat dripping like honey into your ear as he toys with the ribbon holding your other stocking aloft.

“Please make me come,” you stumble in reply, your pussy weeping, missing his plundering touch on that little spongy spot inside that makes rainbows dance across your eyelids.

“Hmmm, but I rather like you like this,” he argues back.

The hand that was teasing you appears from under your dress and rises to paint your juices over your puffy lips, darkened from your teeth biting down on them. The tart flavour seeps into your mouth as your skin feels like it is shimmering over your bones, needing to come so much that you are practically shaking. 

“Perhaps I shall change my mind. Perhaps you need not peak after all. I rather like the idea of taking you back to our seats right now, dripping down your legs for me, trembling with need. Making you sit through this interminably dull evening absolutely on fire,” the ominous filth he intones into your ear makes you gasp hard.

“Please do not,” you beseech, hands clutching at his sharply tailored cropped wool jacket, wishing you could plead with your eyes. “Please, husband, have mercy.” It’s an abject plea, wanting to tear off your blindfold. Instead, you pitch forward, seeking his kiss, lips pursed, your own desire still glistening upon them.

“I love you like this,” he rumbles, lips ghosting your teasingly but not kissing properly. “So desperate for me.” 

“Fuck me,” you whisper harshly as he snarls and finally takes your lips in a bruising kiss.

“We will surely be heard if I do that,” his answer garbled around your tongue.

“I don’t care. Let them find us; let them watch,” it’s words spoken from need, desires running roughshod over your usual boundaries.

He inhales sharply and cups your jaw, pushing the blindfold off your face and onto your head, seeking your eyes, the source of truth.

“You would let me do that?” he rags breathlessly, his gaze burning yours as you squint to readjust even in the low candlelight. “You would let me fuck you while others watch?” As he asks, he ruts hotly into your hip, his cock a warm mass you can feel through your gauzy dress.

“I would let you do anything to me,” you confess honestly. “Especially like this,” you point out, bucking your hips towards him, seeking friction against your aching, abandoned clit.

“Fuck… I love you,” Benedict wheezes and kisses the very breath from you, invading your mouth and making you swoon towards him. His passion can often be like a storm, and today is no different. 

You almost cry in victory when you feel him attack his trouser buttons, heaving breaths. Then he pushes you back into the bookcase with a force that almost winds you, his cock plunging into your soaked channel with no preamble, splitting you open and making you convulse hard around him, already coming from this alone, so long denied.

His hand clamps over your mouth as you scream, enraptured, him growling as you convulse around his cock. But even as you squirm and your mind scrambles, he offers no clemency, instantly beginning to thrust into you roughly. You cling on for dear life as he proceeds to fuck you so hard that the large books above you rattle ominously and you feel another orgasm rushing towards you at breakneck speed.

“Go on, come again,” he groans, sensing your proximity. “Make all the noise you wish,” he appends, changing the rules, uncaring now, greedily chasing his own completion.

It’s only a few moments of blinding pleasure before you shatter once more, the drag of his cock spearing hotly inside too much after being so thoroughly edged. Not wanting these urgent moments of lightning-quick sex interrupted, you barely make a sound, even given the permission you have to do so. Instead, you bury your face into his clothed shoulder and bite down, the wool itchy on your tongue as you scream into the fibres, fracturing again under his wonderous assault on your senses.

He has to grab your hips to keep you upright as you convulse and go limp, floating on a cloud of ecstasy. He grunts loudly and pushes deeper, a few more strokes before his whole body jolts in waves, going stock still as you feel his cock spurts heatedly into your hilt, and he effuses words of praise into your hair. 

For a few beats, there is nothing but panting breaths loudly in each other's ears, him seemingly reluctant to withdraw from your body.

“We should attend more dull Ton events,” you opine drolly as you recover the power of speech.

You feel his resulting chuckle inside as his cock slips from you. “Indeed we should,” he smiles lovingly, delicately removing the stocking from around your head and handing it to you to put back on as you both rearrange your clothing into an acceptable state.

Minutes later, he takes your arm, and you are rejoining the party, the picture of an impeccably elegant married couple. Still, as you retake your seats and he hands you a glass of champagne with a devoted, chase kiss to your temple, you suspect few other wives can feel cum dripping down their thighs and seeping into their stockings. Probably even fewer will find themselves screaming into their carriage curtains on the ride home as they get eaten assiduously from behind. Such is life as Mrs Benedict Bridgerton; frankly, you would not want it any other way.

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 @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb

[erwinsvow]

𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞

summary: you and aaron are having a hard time deciding on a baby name.

word count: 1.5k

author's note: eeeeeeee x3. cannot stop writing for aaron, especially domestic, happy aaron. not bau!reader but i stole elements from that story too, linked here. i really loved this one!

now spinning

You had thought time would fly by during pregnancy, or at least that’s what everyone else made it seem like. You felt like all you’d heard so far was warnings to enjoy this time with ‘just the two of you’ and spend your days preparing as much as you could. 

You’d taken it very literally—your evenings after work were spent reading baby books and prepping food to store in the freezer.

Your days off from work, and even the rare, treasured weekend Aaron has off, is spent looking at paint samples (all yellows and greens, even though you’ve known it’s a girl since the two of you had Jack take a big bite out of a cupcake with raspberry frosting inside) and browsing websites for a car seat and a stroller. Aaron digs through the garage for Jack’s old things, and comes out with a sturdy wooden crib and a beautiful bassinet. 

Aaron doesn’t worry as much as you, of course, and he has the best dad instinct you’ve ever seen. It comes so naturally to him, you almost worry about yourself. Will it be this easy for you? 

You have experience parenting now, thanks to Jack and all the time you spent with him and Aaron even before you got married, but he barely counts. He’s an angel child—one who asks for extra servings of vegetables, does his homework without being asked, and never complains when you have to remind him to tidy up his room. 

Besides a few puzzle pieces and various, outgrown sports gear scattered throughout the house—your house, your family home, you think fondly— he always puts away his belongings in the proper place.

He even reminds you and Aaron of his upcoming school projects and which commitments he penciled in for—a friend’s birthday party next weekend (When should we go get the gift?) and a class field trip next month (They need two more chaperones. Should I ask Uncle David?)

You’re convinced you’ll never have it this easy with another child. You start over preparing the week you find out you’re pregnant, after Aaron smothers you in kisses and hugs.

He takes you out to dinner with the team—another rare, treasured event, but not because he doesn’t want to, just because they’re always on a case—and you break the news to them when you turn down a glass of wine from Emily, who looks at you quizzically. No more wine for nine months, you had said. Ten, JJ corrected.

You’re seven months now, halfway to eight. Pregnancy brain is very real and has affected you like crazy. You keep forgetting to go grocery shopping and then you keep misplacing the paper grocery list Aaron keeps on the fridge with a little magnet. You and Jack have been eating a lot of take-out, and he’s not complaining but he still inquires about his vegetable intake over slices of pizza. 

“You know, the baby is the size of a coconut right now,” you tell Aaron on the phone, rubbing your stomach. Your back has been killing you lately, another thing you had read about happening nearing month eight in your baby books of horror.

Aaron offers a massage when he’s around but it always hurts the most when he’s gone. Besides, his massages are what got you into this predicament in the first place.

Jack is asleep on the sofa right next to you. He had asked to watch Star Wars before bed—it’s a Friday night and he has no soccer practice tomorrow, and you are a perpetual good cop who can’t say no—so you had cozied up with him and a bowl of popcorn on the couch while The Empire Strikes Back played quietly in the background. You move your hand back to stroke his hair while he sleeps.

“Really, sweetheat? A coconut?” Aaron says. The team is up in Connecticut, and though he’s gone and you wish he was here with you, you’re thankful he’s in the same time zone.

You’re not sure about the case and can’t stomach the gory details anymore, but you think they must have made some strides since he’s staying on the phone with you and not in a rush to leave.

“Uh-huh, that’s what my book said. Never knew a coconut could kick this hard.” Aaron laughs on his side of the call, a sweet sound. You smile. “Maybe she’s kicking now to let us know she wants to play soccer like her big brother.”

“A prodigy in the making. Speaking of, does Jack have practice tomorrow?” Aaron likes to remind you of these things because he knows you keep forgetting.

“No, nothing tomorrow, I triple checked. And this little brainiac is just like you, keeps reminding me so I don’t wake him up at seven-thirty tomorrow.”

You hear Aaron laugh again. It all feels very domestic. Your mouth hurts from smiling.

“Aaron, it’s getting to that time. We need to pick a baby name soon. Any crazy ex-girlfriends or female serial killers we need to avoid?”

“Well there’s certainly a few. Serial killers, that is, not the other thing. What are you thinking so far?”

“Well my book said-” Aaron groans on the other end. “Hey! Don’t knock my book, it’s helpful.”

“Honey, your book had you convinced the baby would be missing fingers and toes if you had a turkey sandwich.”

“Deli meat is bad during pregnancy! So is sushi, thank you very much. I’d rather not risk my baby’s digits just because you wanted subs.”

“Reid said that’s not true and everything’s fine in moderation.”

“I’m sorry, has Reid ever birthed a human before?”

“Point taken. Your book also said your heartburn isn’t a big deal because it just means the baby will have a full head of hair-” “JJ said that too! And she said Henry had lots of hair-”

“And it also said sex during pregnancy is bad. Remember that?” Your face heats up. Damn him, making you blush even when he’s hundreds of miles away. 

“Oh, whatever. Just tell me which names we have to avoid. I think we should do something with a J, though. Make it matching.”

“Very sweet, honey. Jordan? Juliet? June?”

“Hmm,” you ponder carefully. Even if it’s silly, this feels like one of the biggest decisions you’ll ever make. “I like them all but I don’t love them. They’re too… something. Too new maybe.”

“Older names, then? Joy, Josie, Julia?”

“I like those too. Should we really name our child after a Beatles song though?”

“I think that’s a great idea, don’t you?” You can almost hear it in Aaron’s voice—he’s relaxing for the moment. Either they’ve already caught the unsub or you have a bigger impact on him than you thought you did. 

“Well if we’re gonna do that then we should at least use Eleanor or Michelle. Or Lucy! I like Lucy.”

“I’d prefer not to name our daughter after a song written about hallucinogens.”

“Aw, you're no fun. How about Anna?”

“What happened to wanting to match with Jack?” he asks.

“Ah, let the kid have his own identity. If he had it his way we’d name the baby Leia or Yoda.”

“Leah’s not bad. Pretty and simple. Four letters, keeping the trend.”

“That’s not a Beatles song!” You hear Aaron groan.

“You have too many demands, honey.” “No, I’m just picky. You should consider it a compliment, I’m choosy and I chose you, remember?”

“Vividly. Prudence, then?”

“Oh, that’s pretty.” You try to picture it written on holiday cards and homework sheets. Prudence Hotchner. You say it aloud to test the feel of it. “Prudence Hotchner. Prue Hotchner.”

“Sweetheart, I was joking.”

“You should never joke around a pregnant woman. I like it, it’s so pretty. Pretty Prudence.”

“You don’t think it’s a little old?”

“Well, her father is an old man who wants to name her after a Beatles song, so yeah, it’s very fitting. Doesn’t it just roll right off the tongue? Prudence Hotchner? We could call her Prue.”

“Prue is very cute. I like Prudence Joy.”

“Oh, I love Prudence Joy. Prudence Joy Hotchner. I like it so much. I’m tempted to wake up Jack and ask if he likes it.  Will you ask the team if they like it too?”

“I will, honey. Isn’t it time to sleep now?”

“Yes, I’ve just been putting it off. Jack’s asleep next to me, I have no idea how I’ll get him upstairs without waking him.”

“If you wake him he’ll be able to fall asleep again, as long as it’s quick-” “I know, honey, don’t worry about us.”

“Can’t help it.” You can’t stop the smile that spreads, cheek to cheek. You have a feeling he’s smiling too.

“You’ll ask the others, right? About Prudence?”

“Yes, honey, I will. I’ll see them in a little bit, I stepped out to call you while I made another cup of coffee.”

“Oh, Aaron, it's so late for coffee,” you chide, lovingly. Don’t drink a whole cup please. I wish you guys would drink tea instead. Or at least decaf.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. I gotta go now. Kiss Jack goodnight for me?” “Of course.”

“And play Prudence her song, then?” You can’t contain the smile on your face.

“Of course. Good night from all three of us, Aaron.”