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#are you kidding me aubrey
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i would have folded right there
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druidberries · 28 days
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Griffin took Sophia to the equestrian center and let her take Nutmeg for a ride for a bit. It was...hard to say the least, but she did run into Aubrey (by @buttertrait <3) 👀
previous // next
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see you around, blondie...
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ai-l0lb1texe · 2 years
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ok i’m finallt puttinf tumblr to use
me n a friend on insta did an art collab with kelbrey!!! their dynamic’s so so cute and funny and we both love it so much (tell did auby i did kel)
go follow tell on instagram btw!!! (tellomon_)
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magentagalaxies · 7 months
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fucking love it when one of my professors brings up kids in the hall in giving me feedback, not in a pandering way but in a "this is an observation i've made about their work and how you could channel this aspect in your own comedy to get yourself out of your comfort zone and play with new things"
#shoutout to my improv teacher fr#we were talking about how i don't use dynamic physicality and movement as much in my characters#and she brought up how so much of their characters are very physical and encouraged me to play with that#and also specifically character temperament and emotions and stuff bc i have a specific range i play in#and it's funny even tho i personally think my comedy style is most like bruce#and scott in a lot of ways has these uninhibited moments i wish i could throw myself into#in terms of character range/voice/temperament/emotion? i'm playing heavily in the scott zone rn#and my professor was like ''that's great but also i wanna see you play a bruce girl''#we also had a whole conversation about gender and kith and how gender plays into my improv or is absent from it a lot of the time#and holy shit erin my improv teacher wins cis ally of the day award she was so respectful while also having good feedback#(her feedback was low key ''be more overtly trans even if it makes cis people uncomfortable'')#bc like. i'm very overtly trans in my standup rn like you know how aubrey is#but in improv? sure i play many characters regardless of gender but that's the thing. it's ''regardless'' of gender#so i sort of default to being neutral so that others can project onto me. it's sort of ''idgaf i'm chill'' which in itself still is radical#but it gives ''cis allys'' who don't want to deal with gender an outlet to just project onto me in a way that i could own much more#anyway the way i process feedback is often by repeating it to someone else so like. this didn't need to be a post this is for me#but idk if you're following along with my comedy journey (or even if you just want to hear my professor reference kids in the hall!)#maybe this is of interest to you. in any case i'm very excited to play with all this stuff much more#and i definitely feel confident in my comedic identity and trans identity and most of all my trans-comedian identity#and i'm excited to see how i grow from here
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softly-and-suddenly · 11 months
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I watched Master and Commander for the first time yesterday and this is all I have to say for myself
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jj-the-writer · 1 year
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Day 7 @kelbreyweek:
Minor omori spoilers.
Wedding day.
Basil: "AUBREY!"
Aubrey: "WHAT!?"
Basil: "Sorry for shouting... but you're not listening to yourself! You're about to be driven to a chapel to get married to Kel, and you're getting cold feet now?! ... Please tell me what your thoughts are, and slowly this time. I couldn't understand anything earlier."
Sunny nods in agreement to Basil with determined eyes.
Aubrey: "... I'm scared that it's too soon... I love him a lot and I know it but we're still young and I'm afraid of making mistakes... Mistakes that could possibly lead to the most difficult break-up of my life... I want to make him happy and I don't know if I can, Basil..."
Basil lowered his head and moved closer to Aubrey. He raised his hand a little...
Basil: "I could slap you for the idiotic things you're saying..."
He placed his hand on Aubrey's shoulder softly and looked her in her eyes...
Basil: "But I won't. Listen, you've been in a relationship with Kel for three years now, and been friends with him for even longer. You know better than anyone else the trials that your relationship has gone through and it still managed to prevail. If you think that any of that will change now you are deadly mistaken. If your relationship wasn't meant to be, you would've split up a long time ago."
Sunny came forward and hugged Aubrey to try to console her.
Aubrey stayed silent for a while. She hugged both Basil and Sunny and she started crying...
Aubrey: "I'm sorry for not making any sense I just... Thank you guys... Thank you so much for knocking some sense into me... I needed that..."
Basil: "Good. Now dry those tears okay? It's your big day today!"
Aubrey: "Yeah... Yeah you're right. What the hell am I doing?"
She took a towel and dried her tears. She fixed herself up in her mirror and she stepped to the center of the room in confidence, her beautiful white dress moving along with her movements.
Aubrey: "I'm getting married today! Basil, Sunny I need help putting on the bridal veil!"
Basil: "On it!"
Sunny set his hand on his forehead in a military style salute and followed basil. The both of them carefully picked up the veil and as Aubrey bent her knees they placed it on her head.
Basil: "You look beautiful."
Sunny didn't say anything but only hugged Aubrey shortly.
Aubrey: "Thanks guys, your help means a lot to me."
Then suddenly the moment is interrupted by the horn of a car.
Aubrey: "Oh it's Kim! We better get going then. Can't leave him waiting, can we?"
Sunny whispered on Basil's ear and Basil spoke for him.
Basil: "Sunny says he wouldn't miss it for the world, and frankly I agree. Alright then let's get going!"
Aubrey: "Yes!"
All three of them get into Kim's car and they drive off to the chapel where Kel was waiting with Hero...
Hero: "Kel calm down, nothing's gonna go wrong, we've double checked everything already."
Kel: "Hero please bear with me, I can't sit still while I wait, you know that, also I need to make sure everything is perfect!"
Hero places his arm on his brother's shoulder.
Hero: "Everything is perfect though. This is your day, you're getting married to Aubrey, your lover, your best friend, the person you can never hesitate to spill your feelibgs to, she's your future wife and she is currently on her way to get married to you! It's okay to be a little stressed but don't let it get to you because you know more than anyone that your bond is stronger than ever."
A brief pause happens but the comforting words helped Kel calm down and take a deep breath.
Kel: "Whoo... Okay you're right I just need to take some deep breaths..."
Hero: "That's right buddy it's all good."
A car stopped at the end of the aisle. First came out Kim, then Basil and last Sunny. Basil went to Aubrey's side of the car and opened the door for her as is tradition. Aubrey wanted Basil to walk her to Kel since he is her first ever friend, and despite what they've been through she couldn't have asked for a better friend.
As soon as Kel saw Aubrey get out of the car his mind dropped. The realization of marriage just hit him in the head. He'd live his life by her side forever, it's not games, not puppy love, not a teen fling... This is love, this feeling that he's certain will never go away. This is their day... The day they seal their future to be by each other's side. Initially Kel got overwhelmed, not sad, upset or scared, just intimidated by the sheer amount of new feelings he went through in just a few moments... But soon enough, he looked at her face, her pink hair flowing in the soft wind along with the veil, her beautiful eyes that looked at him... And all his problems seemed to fade away. A tear rolled down his cheek. He felt Hero grasp his hand as Aubrey drew closer with Basil by her side.
Aubrey's mind was racing through the aisle walk, she thought about her future with Kel, but unlike before this time the overwhelming feeling of 'getting married' was gone, the only thing in her mind was making that man who's waiting for her in the altar happy. She looked at her soon-to-be husband and saw a few tears, but she knew that look, he was happy, and maybe moved by her beauty, Aubrey couldn't help but feel charmed even in this situation. "Yep, that's the one." She thought. "My one and only."
Aubrey reached the altar and stood by Kel's side. Hero let go of his hand and took a few steps back. The Priest started talking. Kel glanced at his soon-to-be-wife, he admired her beautiful hair and looked into her eyes... Oh how beautiful she looked. Another tear rolled down...
The Priest asks the bride.
"Do you take this man to be your husband?"
Aubrey: "I do." She said with no hesitation as she looked at the groom deep in his eyes.
"And you, do you take this woman to be your wife?"
Kel looked around him, everyone he knew smiling happily, or shedding tears of happiness. He looked at his soon-to-be-wife and they locked eyes once more. Her beautiful eyes... He could look at her for a whole eternity as he wanted to savor this moment for the rest of his life...
Kel: "I do." He said with determination in his eyes.
"May the groom kiss the bride"
Aubrey grabbed his arm and pulled him closer never breaking eye contact.
Aubrey: "Make it flashy." She said in a playful tone along with a wink.
Kel accepted the challenge. He grabbed her waist and spun her around lowering her body. And as his face was right above hers, he looked at her eyes before closing them and going for a deep kiss, all in front of everyone. Everyone was cheering happily for the newlyweds and their cinematic first kiss as a married couple. Hero and Basil also cried a little as they cheered, they were just too happy. Sunny hurried on the altar by his friend's side and he gave them the rings. Kel and Aubrey held in their hands the other's ring and looked at each other.
Aubrey took Kel's hand and as she slid the ring on his finger she said "For my husband."
In response, Kel took Aubrey's hand and as he slid the ring on her finger he looked at her and said "For my wife."
The rest of the wedding went smoothly. Hero and Basil cried a lot, Kel's parents hugged Kel and Aubrey, Sunny spoke and said "I'm happy for you." Which made everyone's heart melt, they all danced for quite a while, ate food and drank champagne... It was perfect, exactly how Kel and Aubrey wanted their special day to be like.
Afterwards the both of them went to their house that they rented, but ofcourse before coming in the house Kel picked his wife up bridal style as she deserved, and walked in the house with the right foot. They sat together singing, laughing, drinking... Eventually though they thought about their short term future.
Kel: "So you know how you told me to decide where to go for our honeymoon?"
Aubrey: "Did you get the tickets?!"
Kel: "I sure did!" He said with a bright smile as he waved two tickets that said 'ITALY' in front of him.
Aubrey: "Italy! That's an amazing choice! Oh I can't wait to try the food there!"
Kel: "Don't forget about the gondolas!"
Aubrey: "Romantic as always I see." She said as she planted a kiss on her husband's lips. "So what do you say we go to bed, husband~?"
Flustered, Kel picks her up bridal style again, as he makes his way to the bedroom.
Aubrey: "You don't have to do that everytime I have to move you know."
Kel: "I want to though!"
Aubrey: "Ofcourse you do." She said after she kissed his cheek.
And the door to their bedroom closed behind them.
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loharou · 1 year
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RIP my suspension of disbelief
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annytheseal · 2 years
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I just suddenly remembered you have a puppy and that you sent me photos of her one time and so I went and looked at the photos and when "Obsessed, sobbing" /pos shes so fucking cutteeee I love Miss Pancake
Politely asking for more photos of her
DONT LET HER FOOL YOU!!! she is a MENACE she is terrible and bites me !!!!! but.. sighs. she is very cute. i am currently in my bed but i will send you more in the morning !! :D
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asapeveryday · 7 days
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Breath Me In
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Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader
Warnings: Smut (Fingering), weed, alcohol
Summary: Uconn’s end of summer party brings you all sorts of highs.
A/n: can you tell I like party settings??? Anyways. We need more fics of Paige receiving instead of always giving pls!! Someone please this girl!
Summer is coming to a close. Long August days turn to colder September nights, and the students of Uconn have mostly moved in for the new semester. A new year of college calls for a party.
Uconns annual end-of-summer party was an absolute staple to attend for seniors, richer students who lived in housing nearby often responsible for hosting. Summery rap and pop blasting, coolers and twisted tea by the gallons, string lights in big green backyards, patio furniture overrun by couples making out or slowly sobering up. It was a sight to behold, and you relished in the feeling of this, the beginning of the end of school.
When you make your way throughout the house, various people stop to talk to you, including the hostess herself.
Stella DeSantos is a trust fund girl who’s in her senior year for sports marketing, and this years lucky party organizer. She has the means, obviously, because the house is massive.
“So… gonna start the year off with some dick or what?” She laughs, already tipsy.
You just smile and shake your head. “I’m chill right now.” Is your reply. Honestly you just didn’t want to pull the ‘id rather have pussy’ card on her.
The girl swings an arm around you. “I could set you up with some really athletic guys if that’s your thing.” She hiccups. “Want a drink?”
She thrusts a mango white claw into your hand and you take it reluctantly. As much as you loved getting wasted the party was a bit too rowdy to feel comfortable. You were desperately searching for someone you knew well enough to hang out with that wasn’t already drunk, with no luck.
You stick by Stella for a while, standing by as she greets people and gets drunker by the minute. You’re still holding the same White-claw, though it’s mostly empty.
You’re scoping out the scene yourself, the house is filled with kids you’ve been in school with for the past years. Your gaze stops in the kitchen, where two girls reside. One tall with dark skin, hair slicked back and clothes baggy. You’d had classes with Aubrey Griffin before, she was intimidating but attractive.
The other girl was paler and slightly shorter, blonde hair tied back into a bun and glasses on her face.
“Paige!” Stella calls out, as if sensing your thoughts. She makes her way over to the two girls and you awkwardly follow behind. Everyone knows Paige Bueckers. She’s one of those students, everyone mostly likes her and she’s friends with all the right people. It puzzled you how someone so gay still attracted so many guys.
Stella talks to Aubrey and Paige, and they politely engage despite obviously being thrown off by how drunk she is. Their shared looks almost make you laugh. You take this as a chance to get a good look at Paige. She mostly stayed out of trouble or tough rumours, and kept to her main group of friends, so aside from her talent on the court you knew almost nothing.
You let yourself stare at her, noting her blue eyes, long lashes and wide smile. She carried herself confidently, but looked uncomfortable.
Finally she turns to meet your eye, and when her tongue flashes out to wet her lips you physically feel something in your stomach drop.
“You her babysitter or something?” She smirks.
“You’d think she knows how much she can handle by now.” You scoff. Stella barely notices, fully talking to Aubrey.
Paige’s eyes dart to the drink in your hand. “Good luck finding a ride home tonight.”
Before you can respond, maybe by telling her your name or sparking better conversation, Stella’s attention is drawn somewhere else and she starts to drag you away.
You turn to get one last look at Paige, and internally celebrate when your eyes meet.
-
As the summer sun finally began to set, it got a little too cold for everyone to be outside. The inside of the house was absolutely packed, the music was louder and the air was thicker. The smell of smoke and sound of people was starting to irritate you, but for whatever reason you didn’t want to leave just yet.
Stella was nowhere to be found and you were sitting on the kitchen counter next to some other girls, quietly sipping some drink while listening in to conversations. The original plan of staying mostly sober was ruined by your boredom, and though you weren’t drunk you felt significantly warmer and a little more confident.
“Oh, it’s you again.” A voice says. You turn to see it’s Paige and your heart skips a beat.
“I have a name.” You reply, not caring if you come off rude. She doesn’t seem to care either, just raising her eyebrows at you. “And it is?”
You tell her your name and she repeats it to herself with a smile. “I’m Paige.”
“I figured.” You laugh. The alcohol was making everything seem like less of a deal, had you talked to her more before you probably wouldn’t have been so casual.
“You drunk?” She asks, leaning against the counter across from you. At this angle you’re pretty much looking down at her, she looks cuter with her eyes wide and head tilted slightly upwards. You almost let your imagination get ahead of you.
“Getting there. You?”
Paige shakes her head no. “You don’t seem like much of a drinker.”
With a shrug, you say “This party is less fun than I thought it would be.”
“I’m gonna head outside if you’re tryna come.” She shrugs back.
You hop off of the counter and are reminded of the fact that Paige isn’t short. She seems happy that she’s not looking up at you anymore.
“Sure, why not.” You smile.
She leads you to the backyard and the sudden quiet is surprising. The music is muffled and the air is fresher, it’s a beautiful night and the yard is empty for the two of you. Paige heads straight for the pool, sitting down by the edge of the deep end and taking off her shoes, letting her legs dangle in the water. You join her and do the same.
“So you came to a party and you’re not drinking or getting high?” You ask her.
“Ah ah,” she smirks. “I’m getting high for sure, jus had to be a little sneaky. You can keep a secret, right?” Paige tilts her head at you, and you almost melt right there and then.
“I’m great at keeping secrets.” You eye her, tilting your head like she does. “But can all those people?” You gesture to the kids inside the house.
“Everyone in there is gonna be too drunk to remember me sneaking out for a blunt with a girl.” She finally breaks eye contact, reaching into her pocket for a tin of pre-rolled blunts.
She said ‘with a girl’ like her being with you could be a topic of conversation. The thought makes your mind race.
When Paige lights up and gets the first hit, her whole composure loosens.
The blue from the pool water reflecting onto her face, the slight glow of the blunt against her lips, the way she blows the smoke afterwards. It’s driving you insane.
You stare at your legs in the water, her pale ones next to yours. The night is beautiful. She’s beautiful. You wonder if she’ll remember anything tomorrow.
“Want sum?” Paige interrupts your thoughts, holding out the blunt. You know you shouldn’t mix weed with alcohol, but your heart is buzzing and her lips had already been on it, so you can’t say no.
Taking it from her nimble fingers (which you cursed yourself for even noticing) you inhale, letting the smoke fill you up before letting out a long breath, trying to ignore her sharp eyes on you.
“I’m surprised I haven’t noticed you around before.” She says, taking back the blunt. You let the statement linger in the air. For every hit you take, she takes three. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are already slightly pink.
“Are you not the noticing type?” You ask.
Paige’s eyes meet yours. “Are you?”
You laugh and take the blunt from her, holding the smoke in before tilting your head back and blowing it into the night sky.
“I notice a lot of things.” you say, glancing at her lips before meeting her eyes again.
“Oh yeah?” She says quietly, analyzing your features. If it weren’t for the drinks and the weed, you would’ve felt like prey under her watch.
“Yeah.” You match her tone.
She’s closer than you remember her being. The air smells like weed and chlorine, but she smells like summer.
Nobody says anything, you just keep passing the blunt.
“What was your first time getting high like?” You ask her.
“Freshman year, me and some other girls on my team decided we were gonna do it together.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “Don’t know why we started with edibles, but we were still high the next morning.”
“Oh shit.” You laugh.
“Yeah,” she huffs “and we had practice that afternoon, must’ve gone through like 3 bottles of eye drops each. What about you?”
“Senior year of high school.” You cringe and she smiles at your expression. “My girlfriend- at the time, was kind of addicted. Didn’t seem like a big deal then, but she begged me to smoke and I did. It was whatever.”
“Girlfriend?” She asks.
“You’re surprised?” You chuckle. “Shit, you really don’t notice anything.”
“Shut up.” She flicks your shoulder. “Any girlfriend now?”
“Fuck no.”
“I feel that.” She blows smoke into the crisp air. There’s a moment of comfortable silence, you looking into the water and her looking at you, before she finally says “Can I try something?”
“Like what?” You ask.
You can tell her thinking is slightly hazy, she’s moving slower and her eyes are tired, it’s attractive.
“Lemme jus show you…don’t freak.”
Paige takes a hit, then leans into you. In an instance her lips are on yours, prying you open and exhaling smoke into your mouth, then she pulls away. You resist the urge to choke, but manage to exhale smoothly. Your lips tingle where she made contact with you, and you feel your face get red at her expression. Paige is practically entranced.
“Little warning would’ve been better next time.” You cough.
“We can try again if you want.” She smirks, and you roll your eyes.
Once again Paige takes a hit then leans into you, this time placing her hand on your face. She huffs the smoke inside your mouth and you gladly take it, now knowing what to expect. When she pulls away you don’t turn your head, you just blow out the smoke, letting it cloud both your vision and hers. When it clears she’s staring dead at your lips.
Her lips meet yours again, this time without any weed. She’s taking her time with you, tongue exploring your mouth attentively, one hand still on your face while the other finds your thigh.
Her hands are calloused and controlled against your skin, her glasses bump your face as you kiss her. Her lips are soft.
You let your hands wander too, dancing under her black t-shirt and gripping her waist. You can feel her abs, toned from her athletic lifestyle. You can only imagine the things you could do with her abs alone.
Her hand leaves your thigh and meets yours under her shirt, gripping your wrist she guides you to her sports bra, letting you get under it and feel her breasts.
She sighs into your mouth when you lightly pinch her nipples, her usually confident voice now almost needy.
Paige’s kisses trail down to your neck, licking and biting into your soft skin. You let your fingers ghost against her until they reach the waistband of her sweatshorts.
“Can I?” You whisper, eager to feel her.
“Fuck, yes.” She murmurs against you, sucking beautifully painted hickeys from your neck to your collarbone.
When your fingers rub her through her boxers you can hear her breathing change, and it’s doing things to you. Rubbing slow circles on her clit, you feel yourself getting wet.
“You let every girl down your pants, Paige?” You mumble. She stares up at you, eyes wide and bloodshot.
You relish in the way she bites her lip when your pace quickens, you can feel her slick through the boxer briefs and you can’t help but tease her. “So wet already…”
Finally you let your hand slip into her briefs, finding her entrance and teasing around her hole. Her hips jerk upwards, giving you room to move, offering herself to you. “Stop talking.” She grumbles, cheeks pink with embarrassment.
You connect with her lips again as your fingers finally dip inside of her, causing her to let a soft moan out. You realize suddenly that anyone inside the house could come outside and see you two, but with all the weed and alcohol you couldn’t care less, you couldn’t stop now, not when Paige was grinding against your fingers and letting out sweet whimpers into your mouth, her hands feeling you all over.
Breaking the kiss is the best decision you make, because you can actually see her. Her face is perfect, hair falling out of her bun, glasses sliding down her nose, her expression a sexy, needy pout, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.
You pick up the pace, pumping your fingers in and out of her and grinning as her whimpers get a little louder. The noise of her slick, her voice, the crickets outside and the muffled music is almost magical to you. Her blue eyes shining and glossy from the weed and the reflection of the water.
“Fuck.” She murmurs, covering her mouth. “Oh, fuck.”
Her hips are violently bucking now as you curl your fingers inside of her and use your thumb to apply pressure to her clit. Her eyes are screwed shut now, and you can tell she’s close.
“Gonna cum for me Paige? Cmon baby, let it out.”
She calls out your name, legs open and pussy throbbing against your fingers. Finally she loosens around you, reaching her orgasm.
She’s still clinging to your body and catching her breath when you pull your hand out from her shorts, licking your fingers like you’ve just finished a meal. Paige’s eyes are trained on your lips wrapped around the same digits that were just inside of her.
You just smile at her staring. “You good?” You ask her. She just chuckles and takes off her shirt. “I’m good. Might needa cool down though.” Paige eyes you as she slips into the pool.
You laugh and take your shirt off too, slipping into the cold water with her.
It’s a good night, filling your lungs with her, breathing Paige in.
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fayes-fics · 4 months
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Moments: 'Twas The Nights Before Christmas...
Moments Masterpost
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: It’s Christmas, and once again, the Bridgerton clan are gathering at Aubrey Hall to celebrate together. However, all Benedict can think about is conceiving a fifth child... if only he and his wife can get a moment of privacy.
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Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, breeding kink. Fluff & humour, thwarted intimacy, kids being kids, Viscounts being Viscounts.
Word Count: 2.6k
Author’s Note: Sorry this is about 2 weeks late, but here is the latest festive one-shot for Moments. It is set 6 years after the main story/their marriage and is based on an idea from the lovely @colettebronte (Request: Benedict and Reader want some adult alone time but keep getting interrupted/foiled because of holidays, family, and SO MANY KIDS), who also beta read an early version. I hope you all enjoy <3
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23rd December, 11:04pm
“Was your evening agreeable, Mrs Bridgerton?” His voice is silky as he trails hot kisses down your throat.
“You know it was,” you reply, hand sinking into his lush hair, directing his lips where you want them as he smirks knowingly against your skin. He always enjoys it when you lead him, pushing into his warm body, clad only in a white ruffled shirt and trousers.
This is you finding a moment of intimacy with your husband as you get ready for bed in your guest room in Aubrey Hall. It’s two days before Christmas, and the entire Bridgerton clan have gathered at the family’s country seat to celebrate the holiday, a large house now packed with many children. You and Benedict are here with your brood of four.
Just as your fingers toy with the buttons on his shirt and his land on the bow of your gown…
“Mummy, I cannot sleep,” a little voice cuts in from across the room.
You twist around to see your youngest, two-year-old Thomas, standing in the doorway, his little fist clinging to the door handle at head height. 
“One moment, lovely,” you call, watching him nod drowsily and toddle back into the adjoining nursery. 
You bury your forehead into Benedict’s shoulder, knowing the possible romantic interlude is lost but unwilling to admit it out loud.
“Why do you have to be so damn handsome?” you grouse.
You feel his quiet laugh quaking his body as much as you hear it. “Thank you, my love. But that seems a non sequitur to this particular dilemma?”
“Quite the contrary,” you counter, raising your head. “We would not have these offspring interrupting us if I could resist you,” you sigh, shooting him a mock pout.
He breaks into a full belly laugh that creases his whole face. “How about I deal with the children I am responsible for, and you get some well-deserved rest, hmm?” he suggests chivalrously, nuzzling your cheek.
“You know, such wonderous things make me open to persuasion about more children, Mr Bridgerton,” you jest lightheartedly, swatting his bicep playfully.
His responding chuckle is rich. “Why do you think I do it, Mrs Bridgerton?” he hums, his lips grazing your temple, his flirtatious tone causing that flutter low in your belly. He has been quite enthused by the idea of a fifth child for a while now.
“Mummyyyyyy,” Thomas reappears at the door, his tone more whiney this time.
“You get Daddy this time, Thomas,” Benedict responds over your shoulder, releasing his hold on you, walking over to the doorway and hauling his infant son into his arms. “I hope I prove an acceptable substitute; Mummy needs to rest. Now, how about a Christmassy bedtime story…?” 
Before he disappears into the nursery, Benedict shoots you a devoted but heated look that makes you want to strip him bare.
24th December, 7:14am
“Good morning, beautiful,” Benedict breathes into your ear as you awaken. 
Last you remember, when you stirred in the early hours, you were alone in the bed. You had padded to the nursery and clutched your chest at the sight of Benedict, and the little ones all curled up on a mass of pillows and blankets on the fireplace rug, just visible in the ember glow, an open book in his hand. After a few beats of staring at the adorable pile of sleeping Bridgertons, you closed the door quietly and snuck back to bed. He must have awoken at some subsequent point and joined you.
“Good morning,” your reply is scratchy from sleep, burrowing back into your husband's embrace, reluctant to throw off the covers just yet.
“I think I would like to persuade you this morning…” his opening gambit as his hand slides down over your thin silk nightgown, rucking the hem up your thighs.
“To do what?” you obfuscate, an unseen smile toying on your lips. You know precisely what he refers to, but you want to see how he will broach it.
“I do believe you may be amenable to more children, my love,” he rumbles into the nape of your neck, dropping a kiss there as his warm fingertips swirl on your thigh.
“Am I?” you feign ignorance, that smile growing wider, a flush spreading through your being at how your husband can be when babymaking is on the cards. “But this is not a family wedding, and that is your usual milieu,” you tease, flipping over to capture a brief, chaste kiss.
“A family gathering is close enough,” he counters over your lips, then swallows your noise of bemused derision with a passionate kiss that has you arching up and pulling him on top of you as your tongues tangle.
“IS IT CHRISTMAS?!?” 
Amelia barges through the nursery door, a ball of enthusiasm and jumping excitement.
“I thought I locked that blasted door...” Benedict grumbles tacitly over your cupid's bow as you giggle.
“Not today, Amelia, that is tomorrow,” you respond placatingly, turning your head to look at her and stroking your husband’s arm as he sighs deeply into your neck, knowing your intimate moment is gone.
Your tiny entertainer climbs onto the bed as your husband rolls away defeated, a triumphant look on her face as she claims a prime spot among her favourite audience, her parents. 
Isobel then appears in the nursery doorway holding Thomas’ hand. “It is only fair we get to join too,” she appeals.
“Fine, yes, come join us, my sweet,” Benedict calls genially if a touch reluctant.
“I brought the story, Daddy,” Isobel adds as all three settle between you, handing over the book he had been reading the previous night. “I thought you and Mummy could read the rest to us; we do so need to know how it ends, do we not…?”
Amelia and Thomas nod along, enthused, and you have the creeping suspicion your children have somehow conspired to get their way. Especially when eldest James wanders in and casually perches at the end of the bed, a lopsided smirk identical to Benedict’s as he pointedly gestures for you both to begin reading.
“I do believe we may have been hoodwinked by our children,” you sidebar quietly to your husband as he opens the book to locate where he had left off.
“I suspect so,” he responds sotto voce, but there is such contentment in his tone as he surveys the gaggle of children filling your bed—you just know he could not be any happier about it.
24th December, 9:57pm
You are taking some fresh air on the terrace after another busy family day, rounded off with a convivial dinner when strong arms wrap around your middle.
“The children are in bed, sleeping this time. Should we resume our plans?” he rumbles as he pulls you back into his solid frame.
You scoff bemused. “Here on the terrace? Where any of the family could wander out?” 
“You didn't seem to mind all those years ago when you were pregnant with Isobel,” he points out, both of your eyes cutting off to the pillar where, indeed, you had taken your husband into your mouth right there after the family Christmas dinner.
“You cannot hold me responsible for my behaviour when I am pregnant; you know how I get,” you shoot back, lacing your fingers with his hand at your waist and swaying gently.
“Oh, I think it simply delightful. Why do you think I want you pregnant again, my love? Hmmm? We could take a walk somewhere. Perhaps the woods?” His voice is low and skitters over your collarbone pitched at that cadence he knows always makes you weak.
“‘Tis late December and close to freezing,” you point out feebly, your reticence ebbing as his warm lips land on your shoulder, right by the neckline of your dress.
“I will keep you warm,” he vows, sucking your skin insistently, a damp heat that invariably ignites a flame in your gut.
“You are so very persuasive, husband,” you mutter, pushing your bottom back against the nascent swelling in his britches and guiding one of his hands from your waist up to your mouth, kissing his knuckles.
“I do so enjoy persuading you,” he purrs before opening his mouth wider and gently grazing the edge of his teeth over your flesh, your arm reaching up to wrap around his neck, grinding back against him insistently now and sucking his fingertips into your mouth.
“Benedict! I was wonde….” the Viscount’s voice rings out.
Anthony bustles onto the terrace but stops short at the sight of you both in an ardent cinch. You immediately slide away from your husband but know it’s too late, both of your clothing slightly dishevelled and a bloom on the top of your collarbone from your husband’s zealous attentions, your saliva glistening on Benedict's fingers.
“Sorry…”Anthony stumbles, his cheeks heating at the obvious interruption.
“I apologise, my lord,” you lower your head, embarrassed.
“Perhaps it would be wise to keep your… amorous activities… to more private spaces,” he chastises gently, recovering. 
“Was that not you and Kate I saw against the stable wall yesterday?” Benedict challenges, wrapping his arm around your waist, defiantly pulling you back into him, his tone full of sibling goading.
Anthony flushes claret red. “Well… I…” You can feel Benedict smirking as his older brother flounders. “That is no matter. But I wish to discuss something with you if you do not mind,” he finishes pointedly with a brusque nod, firmly changing the topic.
Sensing there is something Anthony would like to broach now, you twist your head to whisper to Benedict. “It sounds as if it would be best you do as your brother wishes, my love. We will resume later, I promise,” you pledge, your voice intentionally laden.
“I do believe you are right, as ever,” he concurs reticently, squeezing your waist. “I shall see you anon,” his whisper thrillingly auspicious.
25th December, 2:17am
“Do you think the Viscount will mind?” You murmur, your lips on his ear as you rise and fall. Pressing yourself into him as much as possible.
“That we are fucking in his dining room in the dead of night?” Benedict checks, his hands banded around your waist, encouraging your movements. The moonlight streams through the large windows, throwing everything into sharp relief, the room bathed in streaks of light and shadow. 
You giggle and gently teeth the shell of his ear, slightly breathy with exertion. “Yes.” 
“Yes, I think he will mind,” he chuckles, splaying his large hand wide, hooking his thumb onto your clit even as his fingers crest your hips. It makes you groan loudly, your hardened nipples dragging against his chest, adding to the sensation as you ride his cock. “But I say this is apt payback for his interruption earlier. So make all the noise you want, darling.”
“He can watch for all I care,” you stutter, leaning away from him and grasping the large, sturdy banquet table behind your back, using it as leverage to fuck him harder.
Benedict groans at the idea you would fuck him even with an audience. His eyes are on your face as you look down, watching his solid cock disappear inside you by the pale glow of the room. It’s a sight you always enjoy, feeling him push you open inside as you sink. 
“Do you like what you see?” He murmurs his voice buttery, his thumb on your clit circling more insistently now.
You tear your eyes away from the hypnotic sight and raise your head to meet his hooded, amorous gaze. “Always,” you affirm. 
It’s a daring thing to do in the early hours of Christmas Day while the rest of the gathered Bridgerton clan sleeps. But after two days of thwarted intimacy, this was almost inevitable.  
You had retired as Anthony detained Benedict in his study discussing business matters. However, you awoke thirsty sometime after midnight and came downstairs for a drink. Benedict had followed soon after and found you—sipping a glass of water and staring out across the moonlit grounds. 
One kiss led to another and another, and then you were both peeling off nightwear. The look on his face as you pushed him into a dining chair and straddled his lap was priceless. And now here you are. Riding him with your feet hooked onto the crossbar of the chair gives you the leverage you need to go so hard that the sturdy chair squeaks in objection.
He utters words of encouragement as you tighten your arms around him and sit back upright, wanting to feel all his skin against yours.
“What shall we call this child?” he murmurs. “Perhaps Joy as it is Christmas?” 
“We cannot conceive a child here!” you protest huskily, even as an excited quiver wracks your frame, so very needy after so many denied attempts at intimacy since you arrived. 
“Oh yes, we bloody can,” he growls and surges his hips upwards, his cock grazing so deep you go limp at the sensation of being plundered so thoroughly.
“What if it is a boy?” you gasp as he takes over, his grip on your hips vicelike as he lifts you and then pulls you back down into his lap in forceful strokes.
“Noel, of course,” he chimes, jubilant, not missing a beat with his movements.
You just nod weakly, too drunk on the sensations coursing in your body to disagree. His mouth is back on that same spot he bothered earlier, no doubt leaving a dark mark you already know he won't care for you to conceal. He loves it when you bear his love bites, even in front of his family. 
“Unhook your feet,” he mumbles, and as you do so, he stands up, still buried inside you and lays your back upon the table.
Then it's a blur of swallowed moans and dewy skin as he fucks you hard, your nails scraping down his back as his hands band under your shoulders, tugging your whole being down onto his cock relentlessly, the table now squeaking louder than the chair had.
You babble a litany of encouraging words into his hair and hold on tight, your heels digging into his rear, skating the edge of that enthralling abyss that is so addictive. 
“Come for me, my love,��� he pleads, those fingers back between your bodies, catching your clit. And then you are away, breaking and tumbling over the edge, trying desperately to muffle your ecstatic cries, face buried in his neck as your whole body spasms and bliss radiates out from where you clench hard around his cock. 
His movements become erratic, and his grasp on you so tight before he growls and freezes, a groan wracking his body, his seed spilling deep inside as you still float away, writhing under him as he pins you down.
And, a few minutes later, after re-dressing, you both creep back upstairs to your room, giggling and wrapped in each other's arms, grateful it seems no one has stirred (yes, not even a mouse) on this magical night before Christmas.  
Some Moments are indeed best uninterrupted.
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Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa
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zipsunz · 1 year
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i've updated the refs for the Little Mari AU! nothing has changed aside from new art and a rewritten summary down below.  
(art by me, text by @sunkitty143!)
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the general premise of this AU is an ageswap between mari/hero and sunny/kel. on the day of mari and sunny's recital, aubrey witnesses a fight between the siblings and sunny's accidental death. sunny's cause of death and aubrey's choice of cover-up are the same as canon. 
the ships in this AU are sunkel, heromari, and photobomb. sunny and kel started dating when they were ~13, though they never revealed their relationship to the kids. hero and mari have unresolved feelings that were only starting to be explored before sunny's death. 
shortly after sunny's death, mari finds herself in sunny's iteration of headspace. like canon, sunny has been exploring headspace since he was very young. everyone's awareness of it varies, but the only ones who know the full extent of its existence is mari and kel. headspace in this AU is based on how i imagine it was in canon before mari's death (ie everyone having purple hair in honor of her, mari and basil not wearing pajamas etc) but with creative liberties due to sunny having longer to expand it and mari's eventual influence. it's important to note mari is not crafting headspace to match what she knows of sunny's version. for reasons that have yet to be revealed, headspace did not have a "true reset" when a new dreamer entered it, which means it is still the very same one sunny would explore.
in headspace, mari takes over her dream world counterpart's role as the save point and, in her eyes, the perfect little sister. eventually, she completely forgets why she found herself in headspace in the first place and what she had been looking for. since her exploration of headspace is limited to her picnic blanket, mari asks sunny's party to help her with her problem. but after a particularly nasty battle, a horrified mari convinces sunny to watch over the picnics instead so he can never get hurt again. 
now leader, mari explores headspace with aubrey, hero, and kel. but each time the party succeeds in their mission, aubrey remembers the truth. she is not banished to black space, but outright erased to the best of mari's ability with her finite control over headspace. as if she had never existed, what is left of aubrey is now the entity referred to as stranger and basil takes the open spot in the party. all the while, an odd girl known as omori wanders the dream world. even odder, she is looking for the very same thing that mari is.
thank you for reading all of this… again! like i've been doing, anything for this AU will be posted out of chronological order to keep my motivation and enthusiasm up hehe. please look forward to more content in the near future!!
(you can find the original refs/info here!)
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pls make reader and milf!abby have a baby together 😭😭😭
Baby - part 1/3 (Milf!Abby x reader)
This is going to be a 3 part series! Part 2 will be released soon:)
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Milf abby: Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
baby series: part 1 part 2 part 3
masterlist
Authors note: i'm back fr, i finally finished with exams and I'm here to spam with fics again
☆ Milf Abby who was happy with the life the two of you were already living but something was missing.
☆Milf Abby who always thought you were good with kids
☆ Milf Abby who never really thought about having another kid until she married you.
☆ Milf Abby who thinks about it a little too much, if she has to be honest
☆ Milf Abby who never brought up the conversation of having another baby even though you were hinting at having another kid.
"Abby isn’t this cute" you said with a pout as you handed her a onesie you bought for Mel's baby shower.
"Abby look" you pointed at Aubrey playing with one of your collogues newborn baby: "she’d be such a good big sister"
☆ Milf Abby who would only nod or smile at whatever you had to say involving babies because she was terrified.
☆ Milf Abby who was asked about when the two of you were gonna have a baby.
"So..." Nora started
"yeah?" the blonde looked at her with a raised eyebrow
"when are you and your girl gonna have a baby?"
suddenly Abby's body went cold, she could hear her heart beating out of her chest and she silently stared at Nora with wide eyes.
"We um-"
"Abby having another baby?"
They heard a voice talk from behind them. Both of the girls heads snapped into the direction of the voice and there stood Mel, still heavily pregnant.
"When you have a kid you should be able to play with them, and to run around- don’t you think you passed that stage already? Don’t you have back pain or something?"
"Mel" Nora said sternly.
"no Nora she has to hear the truth" Mel replied.
Abby met the eyes of the brunette and Mel gave her a sympathetic smile: "by the time your baby is ten you'd almost be sixty, you'd be her grandma Abby"
☆ Milf Abby who agreed with Mel.
☆ Milf Abby who avoided you for a few days because she felt like she was keeping you back in life.
"Can you shut the fuck up" she said with a frustrated sigh.
You looked at her with a raised eyebrow. You knew there was something wrong due to her distant behavior recently. You thought she was stressed, tired maybe.
“Abby I just asked if you wanted something to eat”
Abby looked at you with a blank facial expression, before she looked down to the floor, brining her head into her hands.
You walked towards her putting your hand on her shoulder “talk to me abs”
you felt her muscles tense underneath your touch “c’mon Abby you can tell me anything”
she finally looked up from her hands, and she made brief eye contact with you before she looked away once again
“I-“
“spit it out”
“I don’t think we should have a baby”
“what?”
“listen baby” she started, and she gently took your hands into hers as she saw your eyes fill with tears
“I did some thinking, and I don’t think we should have a baby because I’m happy just with you and Aubrey. Don’t you think another baby will complicate our life?”
You stared at her in shock, how could she not tell you about this earlier?
“Abby you knew. You fucking knew I wanted to have kids, and you said you wanted the same. Now you want to change your mind?”
“Can I not change my mind?”
“You have every right to, but you know how I felt about having kids. You know that I've always wanted to be a mom"
She knew that. She knew all of this.
“aren’t you already a mom to Aubrey? Are you saying my daughter isn't good enough?”
“I did not fucking say that and you know that”
“but you meant it”
“fuck you” was all you said as you got up and walked towards the room the two of you shared.
She doesn’t know why she said that.
God Abby fucking knows what she said was wrong. It's not that she doesn’t want to have kids, its just she knew Mel had a point. She would be in her sixties by the time your baby would be done with high school.
Maybe she was too old after all.
☆ Milf Abby who had to listen to you sob throughout the night.
☆ Milf Abby who tried talking to you the next morning.
Abby let out a groan as she heard Aubrey giggle. She brought her hands up to her eyes as she opened them.
The light has always been bright in the living, but jesus she didn’t know they were this fucking bright.
Abby winched as she sat up from the couch, her limbs felt like they were burning. Her eyes fell on you and Aubrey. The two of you were eating and smiling, and as she took in the scene and she knew it was fucked up of her to say what she said yesterday.
Abby got up, still feeling stiff but she made her way towards the two people who she loved the most.
Aubrey gave her a bug smile and muttered a quick "good morning mommy" before she ran to her room. She smiled at her daughters before she focused her attention towards you.
You didn't even look at her.
She felt sick to her stomach.
“I left some eggs for you” was all you said before you walked out the kitchen.
Abby really fucked up.
☆ Milf Abby who tried getting your attention all week but you ignored her.
☆ Milf Abby who tried talking to you but all you replied with was “I don’t want to talk”
☆ Milf Abby who finally had enough and she decided that she should tell you what actually happened.
☆ Milf Abby who showed up to your classroom once again.
The room was empty and you stood with your back facing away from the door. Abby quietly walked towards you.
“hi”
she watched as your body jerked “jesus Abby I told you that you should start knocking” you said out of breath.
"Sorry" she mumbled
"can we talk?" she watched you facial expression turn cold.
“sure”
“thank you”
The room was filled a awkward silence, it was tense and it felt suffocating.
“talk Abby, I have things to do”
“I'm sorry”
“is sorry all you can fucking say?”
Abby wanted to bang her head against a wall.
“I want to have a baby with you”
“aw you changed your mind? What happened? Did I force you Abby? Are you sure you want this Abby? Oh wait! I don’t think I want to be a mom anymore, since you said that I m practically going to replace Aubrey. Oops let me-"
"it was Mel"
"what did Mel do?"
And the truth came out. Abby told you everything she said, how I made her feel.
You gave her a sympathetic smile before you spoke again: "You need to stop letting people tell you you're too old Abby. You keep losing opportunities, you keep giving yup your dreams, as soon as someone says something. You need to learn that you should stop listing to what others have to say about your age"
“I know but its hard” Abby muttered.
You got up and you walked towards her and you pulled her into a tight up “I know, but we’ll work though it. I’ll help you with whatever and if you don’t want to have a baby its ok-"
"no no I want to have a baby. I want to have one with you"
a smile spread onto your face.
"can we have a baby?" Abby asked.
"if you start working on your self confidence and you stop listing to what bitches have to say about you I will then we can have a baby"
"yes ma'am, i'll do whatever you say"
"one more thing Abby"
"yeah?"
"Don't ever talk to me in that way again. What you said really hurt my feelings, and i understand you were hurting too but it didn't give you the right to talk to me in that way. I love Aubrey more than anything so don't say that again"
"I'm so sorry baby i really am, i there anything i can do to make it up to you?"
"You can start by getting me chocolate milk"
☆ Milf Abby who made it up to you by apologizing over a million times, and by doing every single thing you said.
☆ Milf Abby who immediately started looking for doctors and baby names.
☆ Milf Abby who blocked Mel because fuck her and her fucking opinions.
☆ Milf Abby who did started working on her self confidence and she immediately felt better about everything.
☆ Milf Abby who was excited to have a baby with you.
<3
My pookies (the taglist): @lia-winther @hellorai
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magentagalaxies · 15 days
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i have so much work to do for finals season which is frustrating bc on the one hand i'm very glad all my classes have project-based finals where i get to be creative instead of just doing an exam or a paper. however. i have a bad habit with every project-based final ever of accidentally getting an idea that's way too ambitious and creating more work for myself than i need to do
however this semester even tho i fell into that exact same trap my two most elaborate final projects each involve 1. editing a video essay which contains an interview i did with paul bellini and at least 45 seconds of it are bellini talking about why he thinks i have great potential as a comedian, and 2. editing a ten minute reel of the documentary footage i got on tour with scott. which of course involves rewatching various videos of me and scott being extremely chaotic together. so i stay winning ig
#my other finals include ''powerpoint presentation detailing the historical significance of mel brooks the producers''#and ''live sketch show that i actually don't have a significant role in but that's fine i have a different sketch class next semester''#(this sketch class was technically ''creating characters and solo performances'' and i really wish i could've done more)#(but also that whole interview-footage-debacle drained so much of my creative energy so sometimes doing the bare minimum is self care)#so i don't have a solo piece in the show. but i do get to say my favorite line in the whole show in a group sketch which is great#and i did sign up to perform an aubrey monologue in a sketch show in a suburb of boston next week#which is gonna be super interesting bc i've been looking to do more performing outside of my college#bc i've found that i don't think college kids are actually my target audience??? or at the very least i want to perform to a wider audience#it's frustrating bc for that show i have to trim the monologue down to 3 minutes but it's the tightest monologue i have and it's 5 minutes#so trimming it down feels like a game of jenga since it's so tight lmao#but honestly even if the performance bombs i'm mostly doing this so i can tell bellini about it lmao#he's so supportive of my comedy and he's been such a great help with my aubrey monologues i feel like this is bellini homework lmao#anyway i probably won't post the video essay publicly bc it's not the style of video essays i want to make#and it's too specific to the class it's for#but if people are interested in watching it i'll send you the vid when it's done#and for the tour video i'll probably post that or at least some version of it#bc that's just gonna be a fun teaser of ''here's the level of behind-the-scenes content you'll be getting from this doc!!''#and also a fun way to be like. audiences don't know me nearly as well as they know scott#but they will definitely know me by the end of this bc there are so many wild interactions i have on camera of me and scott being chaotic#anyway this post was mostly to organize my thoughts of what i still have to do this week#i am so ready to be done with school lmao i'm gonna be spending a full month in toronto this summer#and it's shaping up to be such an exciting time i can't wait
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pb524830 · 5 days
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clean up nice
part: 2 ;) pairing: paige bueckers x reader word count: 2.3k c/w: this is just straight filth i'm sorry a/n: miami post had me acting up! just kidding but not really but someone asked for a part two of this :)
The afterparty is small, in a suite at the hotel we’re all staying at. It’s just me, Paige, Azzi, Aaliyah, Nika, and Aubrey, along with the coaches and staff. The intimacy of it is sweet, comforting… until Paige’s hand lands on my thigh. Me, her, and the other girls are sitting on the couch. Paige is turned to Nika, talking to her quietly. She’s changed into something more casual - dark pants and a dark crop top, her gray boxers peeking out from the waistband of her cargos, a Seattle Storm cap balanced on her head. 
Fuck if she doesn’t look fucking devourable.
I’m sitting next to her, cross-legged, answering some work emails. Deliberately, she places her hand on my leg, just above my knee, and squeezes. I shoot her a small smile, returning to my phone. “You look stressed,” she murmurs, leaning forward so her lips are next to my ear. “All good,” I reassure her. Her fingers press into my bare skin, moving upward. “Do you wanna go? We can… relax.”
I don’t miss the suggestive tone to her voice, or the way her fingers are pushing my dress as they move further up my thigh. “Paige,” I whisper, warning. “Come on,” she urges and I shut my eyes. 
“We should take a picture!” Nika exclaims suddenly. Immediately, I shoot to my feet. “I’ll take it!” I volunteer. I’m met with immediate protests that I should be in the picture, but I wave them off. I fish my disposable camera out of my purse, and get to work posing them so that the picture is as good as I want it. “Nika, lean into Paige a little…” I instruct. My eyes flicker to Paige’s.
When she’s sure my eyes are on her, she spreads her legs and slouches back. Her hand lands on her leg, bracing it high on her thigh. She stares me down through hooded eyes, smirking sensually. “Take the picture, ma,” she calls. I shake my head, leaning back to capture all four of them on the couch. Once I’ve taken a few, I shove the camera back in my purse, trying desperately to ignore the fact that my panties are probably soaked. “I’m gonna get a drink,” I tell them hastily. I feel Paige’s eyes burning into my back as I retreat.
I’m filling a cup with vodka and cranberry juice when I feel her arms snake around my waist. Her head falls to my neck, lips ghosting over my shoulder. “You good?” She asks. “Mmm,” I murmur. “Room’s right upstairs,” she reminds me. “You’re so fucking horny,” I whisper, but the way her hand spans my waist has me clutching at the bottle of vodka for support.
“Can’t help it.” She presses an open mouthed kiss against my shoulder. “My girl so fine.”
“Paige, please,” I mutter, urging her to maintain some kind of decorum.
“Still needa take this dress off and fuck you.”
I sigh, the alcohol I’ve already consumed making me just as dizzy as her hands and words.
“You’d like that, huh?”
“Yes.”
“So easy for me, hm? Let me make you feel good, baby.”
My resolve is dampening.
“Wanna watch your pussy when you come for me this time. Wanna taste you so bad, wanna hear you scream my na-”
I groan, shoving her off of me and grabbing her hand. We make a beeline for the door, and I don’t miss the knowing smirk she shoots Aubrey. I push her into the elevator, and she turns, smirking down at me. “Quit it,” I tell her, before she can open her mouth. She shuts her mouth immediately, her grin still evident. 
We get to the hotel room, and as soon as the door shuts, Paige has me against it, her tongue in my mouth. She kisses me languidly, claiming my mouth, kneading my ass to draw out all the sounds she wants to hear. I push her back, shoving her onto the bed. Her gaze is hungry, tongue darting out to lick her lips. “Take your pants off,” I breathe. Her eyes darken, but she unbuttons them, slipping out of them. I step closer, reaching for the zipper on my dress. “Shirt,” I order. She shrugs that off too, and I nearly fall to my knees when I realize she isn’t wearing a bra.
She’s on the bed in just her boxers when I slide the dress down my body and step out of it. Paige tips her head back, groaning at the sight. “I’m so fucking lucky,” she mumbles, looking back to me and shaking her head. I scoff, stepping into her space to dance my hand over her abs. “Me? Look at you, fuck.”
“You like that?”
“You know I do.”
“Forgot how much you like my abs. You wanna ride them?” She grins at me wickedly.
I bite my lip, staring down at her with wide eyes. “Please,” I breathe, putting some whine in my tone.
She sits back against the pillows, and the up and down of her breathing flexes her stomach. I’m salivating at the thought of dragging my clit up and down her torso. “Whatever you want, ma,” she intones. I slip out of my panties, tossing them at her. She shakes her head, beckoning me closer. I crawl onto the bed, straddling her waist.
Paige’s hands latch to my hips, rubbing my ass. “Come on. Ride it.”
I lower myself slowly, my cunt screaming for contact. Then I rock against her and moan. Loud.
“Lemme hear you.”
I rock back again, throwing my head back. “Oh, my God,” I gasp. 
“So fucking pretty.”
I whine, speeding up a little. It’s too much. It’s too little. My hands grapple for my breasts.
“Fuck. Yes, play with your tits like that. You look so fucking hot right now, baby, please.”
Her hands come up to play with her own tits, massaging, pulling at her nipples, and when she moans, my hips stutter. “Don’t stop,” she begs. “Please, do not fucking stop.” I bat her hands away, replacing them with my own.
My hips speed up as I knead her tits, pinching her nipples as her large hands land on my ass, working me faster. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” I sigh, my voice cracking as I take in the sight of her lust-glazed eyes, her perfect, perky tits, her jaw slack, mouth open.
“Fucking getting off on my abs. So fucking- fucking dirty, shit.”
I moan, falling against her, the rivulets of pleasure shooting from my clit through my body. “I’m gonna come, Paige.” 
Her hands at my ass move my hips faster, and I buck against her, chasing my release desperately. 
“You close? Fuck, you’re close, come on. Come for me, ma, just let go.”
“I’m almost- fuck! Oh, shit, shit, shit, Paige!”
“There you go. Good fuckin’ girl, there you go.”
I shake against her as the orgasm racks through me, moaning into her skin. She rocks my hips against her body until she’s sure the aftershocks have subsided. “You did so good for me baby,” she soothes, rubbing my back. Her hands lace into my hair down my back, fingers getting caught. “So good for me,” she murmurs absentmindedly.
I kiss her slowly, my body fucking exhausted, but her lips so painfully tantalizing. “I made a mess, baby, I’m sorry,” I whisper. She squeezes my ass. “Clean it up, then,” she says. I sit up suddenly, eyes shooting to hers. “What?” I whisper. Paige’s hand lands sharply against my ass, the slap stinging. “Clean up. Your fucking. Mess,” she repeats. I stare at her for a moment, then slide my pussy down her body, easing off of her to hover my mouth over her stomach.
Her abs look even better now, somehow, the shadows and highlights of them glistening with my slick. “Today, ma,” she drones. I place my tongue right above the waistband of her boxers, then lick all the way up to her nipple, taking that in my mouth and sucking it off with a pop. She groans a little. “Good girl.” I continue, lapping up all of my come, occasionally attending to her nipples. When I’m finished, she’s just about drooling, and I kiss back down her stomach.
Her boxers are wet where her arousal has soaked through, and I lick my lips. “You wanna taste, baby?” She asks. I pout at her. “So bad,” I whine. “Fuck, it’s all yours. All yours,” she sighs, tipping her head back as I kiss her cunt through her boxers. I slide them down her legs, discarding them elsewhere.
I don’t bother teasing, relishing in the way her back arches when I attach my mouth to her clit. I drag my tongue through her folds, lapping at her cunt diligently.
 I suck hard on her clit. “Fuuuuuuuck,” she moans, her throat scratchy with desire. My back arches at that, ass up in the air. “Look so fuckin- pretty, oh, fuck- between my legs.”
“So wet,” I moan, knowing the vibrations of my voice will make her crazy. They do, and a hand lands in my hair, pushing me down, hips bucking into my face. The other hand covers her eyes, and it’s fucking magical - the way her body responds to my mouth, her features screwed with pleasure, the words falling from her perfect pink lips.
She fucks herself against my mouth, and I smile, feeling her nails dig into my scalp, eating her out like she’s my last fucking meal. She tastes so good - so sweet and forbidden, dripping down my chin. I can hear my tongue moving through her slick, laving filthily through her folds.
“I’m close. Shit, I’m so close. Please. Don’t stop, don’t stop.”
“Come for me, baby.”
“I’m gonna- Yes, right there, right there, just like that. Oh, fuck! Fuck!”
She falls apart against me with my name on her lips, hips bucking erratically and I moan into her, working her through it. 
Finally, her hips still, body slumping against the bed. I crawl back up her body, kissing her lazily, letting her taste herself. “So good for me,” I murmur against her lips. “Make me feel… so fuckin’ incredible,” she tells me between kisses. “Wanna taste you, ma.”
“You’re tired,” I tell her, but my pussy is soaked from getting her off. Her hands run down my back, eyes searching mine. “Sit on my face, then,” she suggests casually. I’m too tired to react appropriately, so my eyes just widen. “Paige-”
She groans. “Please, baby. I need- I need to taste you. So fucking bad, you have no idea.”
“I’m gonna suffocate you,” I try to reason.
“Damn good way to go out,” she retorts, her voice raspy. 
“Please,” she begs, lips attaching to mine again, biting my bottom one as she pulls away. I sigh, moving my hands over her torso. “Okay,” I relent. She grins against me, moving me up to hover over her mouth. “I’m… still sensitive,” I warn. She smirks at me. “Never stopped me before.”
Then she’s shoving me against her mouth, and I’m moaning her name as filthily as anyone has moaned anyone’s name before, clutching at the headboard as her tongue licks and her mouth sucks and she pushes me down against her lips. She moans into me, and when I look down, her eyes are on me. A moan falls from my mouth, followed by a whimper, and her eyes roll up into her head.
I grind against her face, letting her devour me, feeling my climax already close. “Oh, yes, Paige. That’s so good. So good,” I sigh out, my stomach already tightening. She sinks her tongue into me in response, and I gasp, my head knocking against the headboard. Then her lips latch onto my clit and suck and suck and suck until-
“Paige!” I scream, my thighs shaking, but she holds them around her face, her grip strong. I nearly sob, riding it out, my forehead braced against the headboard.
She isn’t done, though, the tears streaking down my face, spurring her on.
Paige flips us over easily, shoving my thighs open, and burying her face in my cunt again, two ringed fingers fucking into my cunt without reservation. My back arches at the same time that my thighs clench around her face, my hand at her head trying to push her away, because it’s too much and it hurts. She fucks into my cunt relentlessly, tongue laving at my clit, her hand batting mine away before thrusting my thighs back open harshly.
They burn, but the pain is so fucking good. 
“It hurts,” I gasp, tears streaking down my face. “Take it,” she growls, and then I’m coming again, stars dotting the back of my eyelids. The room spins, and perhaps goes black for a second or two. Then - it’s the sight of Paige.
Her face is fucked out.
Her hair is a mess.
Her eyes are dark - so dark, I can hardly see the clear blue of her irises.
Her nose is shiny with me, my slick coating her signature smirk, and she looks so fucking proud.
She strokes my thighs. “You take it so good, ma. Always so good for me, right?”
I nod, chest still heaving, my eyes fluttering shut. “Come here,” I say, gesturing for her to come closer. She obliges, easing out from between my thighs to slide her body against mine, entwining us together. “Could make you come a million times, it still wouldn’t be enough,” she murmurs, kissing my forehead.
I laugh hoarsely, burying my face in her neck. “Could come for you a billion, and I’d still beg for one more.” I feel her smile against my hair. I pull back to look up at her. Her mascara has flaked down right underneath her eyelids, her pupils shrinking a bit to reveal that stark blue. “We should clean up,” she murmurs. I shake my head, burrowing further into her chest. “Leave it,” I say.
“For what?” She knows the answer.
“Tomorrow morning,” I grin.
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prodigal-explorer · 4 months
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why i hate sunflower (sunny x basil) - a rather unprofessional essay
spoilers for omori below
and also i'm not gonna tag this as hate because it's literally just the truth. cry about it.
respectfully, it's a horrible ship. i might just be saying that because i hate basil, but i just cannot see it ever being healthy. basil destroyed everybody's lives with what he did, and even if they decide to forgive him, what happened to them won't just be reversed. not to mention the codepedent/abusive aspect of the whole situation.
basil expects sunny to dedicate his entire life to him and his emotional well-being. you shouldn't be responsible for anyone's emotional well-being when you're fifteen years old except for your own.
even in the game, there is evidence of something codependent. basil can't function like a decent human being when sunny explains that he's going away. basil literally HURTS SUNNY to the point where he needs to be hospitalized in an attempt to make him stay. and you think that would work romantically? heck no.
yeah, they smile at each other at the end, but does that really mean anything? forgiveness is great, but it doesn't take back what happened and the effects it had. sunny will always remember when he tried to leave and got his eye taken out.
and the fact that sunny is so heavily traumatized because of what basil decided to do to his dead sister is just insane to me. he's always going to see that image. i get that basil had good intentions or whatever but intention doesn't equal effect. if i ran you over with my car, it doesn't matter that i was twelve or that it was an accident. you would still have to go to the hospital.
and when people say "but he was just a kid he didn't know any better!". if basil had the cognitive ability to think of doing that, he had to cognitive ability to stop, or AT LEAST to admit what he did. if he did, then hero wouldn't blame himself for years and years, aubrey wouldn't have been abandoned, and mari would have been respected after she died. what basil did was extreme disrespect to the dead and it gives me chills just thinking about it.
and he did it to sunny's SISTER.
i just don't see why you guys don't care more about that? that's a bit more than a little red flag that is like a red ocean.
end of story, sunflower is a horrible ship and i don't get why the fandom is so obsessed with it. it makes me sick just seeing it.
especially when this is such a beautiful story when you look at it from a friendship pov! why does everything have to be about romance and uwu little gay boys? i know damn well if basil was a girl nobody would be shipping him with sunny, you guys just want a gay male relationship to fixate on and infantilize because that's what toxic fandom people DO. but that's a digression.
anyway if you like sunflower you're a threat to society. womp womp go cry. or better yet stop shipping it that would be lovely.
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bosbas · 5 months
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Chapter 8: no one wanted to play with me as a little kid
series masterlist previous part || next part
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pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love (sort of. it's like pre idiots in love. on the cusp of idiots in love), fluff (so much fluff)
Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.
A/N: you know what. let's pretend all of the ages/years make sense. kisses to all of you!
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December 4, 1809 - Dearest, loveliest, most wonderful Y/I (your initial),
I am so sorry I have not written in almost two weeks, though I did enjoy the very strongly worded letter you sent me reminding me of this fact and demanding a response. I wish I had a better excuse, but truthfully, this term has just been hectic. But to answer the question you so politely asked: yes, I will be home in time for Christmas, and I will be staying for New Year's and your birthday (your birthday is not even two weeks after Christmas, darling, give me some credit!). Though I rather think you owe me a present instead of the other way around after calling me an oblivious toad.
As an apology for my silence, I've attached my reading list for the courses I am taking at Oxford this term so you can also read them. I am sure you will be able to find them in your library but do let my mother know if you cannot find them. We should also have copies in our library. I will be heading back to Aubrey Hall in ten days to see the lot of you, and I will eagerly be awaiting all of your thoughts on this term's reading.
Yours, B
You couldn't help the excited gasp that left your lips as soon as you were finished reading Benedict's letter. You hadn't even managed to leave your entryway before you hastily opened the envelope addressed to you, blurting out a thank you to your slightly startled butler, who had been taken aback by your eager rifling of the mail. 
Now that Benedict was at Oxford, you barely got to see him at all, so you were more than a little excited when you read that you would only have to wait ten more days to see him. The three weeks he was home for the winter holiday were the bulk of your in-person interactions with him for the year, as had been the norm for the past three years he had been at university. 
It wasn't all bad, though. Proof of that lay in a box in your bedroom filled with every single letter or note you had received from Benedict while he was away at Oxford. Even the short ones, when he was studying for an exam and barely had time to write a coherent response, had found a place inside your box. You supposed the box contained most of your friendship with Ben over the past three years, neatly organized by date from oldest to newest and separated by term. 
Sometimes, you found yourself missing Benedict more than usual, and you would read through your favorite of his letters. Often, it ended up being the shortest notes that were the sweetest and ones you would read over and over. Even years after he had sent the letters, you found comfort in his messy scrawl after an afternoon playing Pall Mall without Benedict and his typical banter. But once you saw him at Aubrey Hall every December, it would be like no time had passed at all. You kept him up to date on everything happening at home with your family and his, and he told you wild stories from his time at Oxford. 
And although you enjoyed hearing about his life, it was also bittersweet. You were so jealous of him, wishing more than anything that you could go to university, too. But alas, the pesky issue of your gender prevented you from furthering your education. You got as close as you could, though. Benedict would send you all of his readings every term, and you enjoyed discussing the books you read at length when he returned for the holiday season. 
This is not to say that your conversations about literature and art were limited to your in-person time. In fact, most of your correspondence was about the books you were reading or the galleries you had gone to. Ben could spend pages and pages talking about a particular part of a painting, the way the artist had captured the way light filtered through the trees. And you loved every bit of it, engaging in your usual discussions. In a way, if you ignored how much you missed him, it was lovely to have a physical representation of your friendship. 
However, you would soon stop being constrained to receiving correspondence from Ben every few days, and you could simply knock on his door if you were particularly interested in talking about an aspect of your book. Your time at Aubrey Hall had become your favorite time of year, three weeks of daily interactions with your best friend being the absolute best birthday present you could've ever asked for. 
But this year was different. This was the last time you would have to say goodbye at the end of the holidays, seeing as Benedict was graduating in the spring and returning from Oxford permanently. To say you were over the moon was an understatement. You could barely wait to spend hours in his studio watching him paint again or reading aloud to him under the shade of the tree in your backyard on particularly warm days. 
---
August 12, 1799 - Y/I, I thought you would like this one. Yours, B
Bypassing Alex and Anthony having a heated debate about who was better at billiards, Benedict headed straight in your direction across the garden, ignoring Daphne, Colin, Theo, and Bastian, who had been playing some team game that devolved into an argument. Benedict patted your head as he came by to sit beside you on the grass, momentarily drawing your attention away from the massive book on your lap.
Grabbing the book from your lap and transferring it to his own, he asked, "So, what do you think?"
You let out an excited squeal, shaking Benedict's nearest arm with both hands. "It's amazing, Ben! An entire book about flowers, who knew? I've spent hours looking at it already, and I'm not even halfway through! It's got so much information I could die. It's incredible. Thank you so much." Though it was left unsaid, Ben knew these were hours you would have otherwise spent alone. The twins were especially adamant about not having you play with them, and Alex and Anthony were too caught up in their never-ending competitions to pay any attention to you. With your mother and his being occupied with the toddlers, Francesca, Cass, and Eloise, who had only just begun to walk and talk, you and Ben were truly the only odd ones out. But it was no bother to him. He loved when you read aloud to him, and you would happily listen to him talk about his sketches for hours on end, something he could not say about any other member of the Bridgerton-Beaumont cohort. 
Ben could only laugh fondly at your excitement, internally very proud that he had found a book you really enjoyed. "It's called an encyclopedia. There are loads of them about just about anything and everything in the world," he told you, leafing through the book himself. Gently pushing the book back in your direction, he prodded, "Well, go on then. Show me your favorite flowers so far." 
Grabbing the book, you hastily turned the pages until you reached the flowers, starting with the letter 'd.' Standing up, you rushed to the nearest corner of the garden and dug around for a few seconds, coming back with a bunch of small white flowers clutched in your small hands. 
Ben let out a short laugh, but you quickly shushed him, whining, "Stop it! It'll make sense in a second, I promise."
"I didn't say anything!" responded Ben defensively, putting his hands up in the air but unable to conceal the smile you had elicited from him. 
"Okay. Look at the page. The daisies. They're also called Bellis perennis, but that's in Latin. We have them here in the garden! Isn't that lovely?" you said excitedly, placing the flowers beside Ben.
"Oh, that is quite nice, Y/N," he responded, picking one of the daisies up and placing it behind your ear, eliciting a bright smile from you. "Did you know that a Violet is a type of flower? And so is a Primrose."
"You mean both our mums have flower names? That's so fun. I wish everyone could have a flower name," you responded, excited to have learned new information. 
"You could always give your daughters flower names," Ben suggested, enjoying the pure joy you were getting out of this.
"Well, before I have daughters, I would have to get married. And I don't want to do that! I just want to keep reading books. I want to read every single encyclopedia in the world!" you exclaimed, reaching your arms as high as they could go. 
Ben laughed, highly amused by your antics. "Just like me, then. Except instead of reading it's painting," he responded as he laid down fully on the grass, looking up at the sky and feeling particularly thankful that someone understood how he felt. On the other hand, you took the opportunity to dump all of the flowers you had picked onto his torso, arranging and rearranging them into different designs. He could only laugh, not at all bothered that his shirt would surely be dirty now, just happy to watch you enjoy yourself. 
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you spoke up as you tried unsuccessfully to stack the flowers on top of each other. "That's perfect, then. We can get married, I can read, and you can paint, and we can have a daughter and give her a flower name."
"That sounds wonderful! I'm glad that's sorted," he laughed, lifting his head to find you flashing a toothy grin. "D'you like the name Daisy for our daughter, then?"
"That's lovely! And you can paint her a painting of a daisy for her room!" you responded eagerly. Benedict hummed in assent, busy imagining the dynamics of a blissful imaginary marriage. 
---
January 3, 1810 - Y/I, Happiest of birthdays, darling. Come downstairs, where I have a proper gift and card waiting for you. Yours, B
As you came downstairs, you already feared the fate that awaited you. Every year, your birthday would begin with a very extreme and frankly excessive snowball fight involving all the Bridgerton-Beaumont children. You could trust no one. Alliances would easily crumble under pressure, and people were just as likely to betray their siblings as they would someone from the other family. You and Benedict, ordinarily inseparable, could become sworn enemies in the span of two snowballs. You couldn't even trust sweet Hyacinth, only seven years old, to be loyal to any team, seeing as she was an outstanding double agent, a lesson you had all learned the hard way. It was absolute chaos, and you loved every second of it. It didn't matter how old you were; this was always the best part of your birthday.
As soon as you stepped outside, a snowball the size of your fist hit your right shoulder. Slowly turning toward the perpetrator, you narrowed your eyes once you saw it was Gregory, who had helped you defeat Bastian and Francesca in one fell swoop last year. Clearly, that alliance was gone, and you would have to find someone else to rely on this year. 
Since it was your birthday, the fight officially started when you threw the first snowball, and this year, you chose to throw it at Cassandra, your own sister, who had annoyed you at dinner yesterday by incessantly flinging peas at you. Once the tightly packed ball left your hand, all hell broke loose. You were hit in the stomach and leg simultaneously as you fired snowballs in every direction you could, laughing as you did. 
You briefly ducked behind a tree trunk, needing a moment to breathe. You took advantage of the fact that you weren't a target to form a massive snowball. You carefully stepped away from behind the trunk, checking that the coast was clear. Without a second thought, you flung the snowball as hard as you could in the direction of the person closest to you. 
Unfortunately, it hit Benedict straight in the face, blinding him for a few moments. Your mouth hung open, trying not to laugh because you knew you had packed quite a bit of force into your throw. You ran to Ben's side, apologizing as much as possible without bursting into laughter. He cleared the snow from his eyes and turned to you slowly, an evil grin forming on his face. 
"I believe you have just declared war, Miss Beaumont," he said finally. 
You screamed and ran in the opposite direction, knowing he would be absolutely merciless. You couldn't even look back, not wanting to slow down. After a few seconds of frantic sprinting, you felt Ben tackling you onto a massive pile of snow. Both of you were laughing hysterically while trying to catch your breath. He turned you over so you were lying down side by side, both of you panting heavily, looking up at the winter sky. 
"I miss you," you said finally, turning your head toward him, only to find that he was already looking at you. He pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you tightly before he helped you up and brushed the snow off of your coat. 
"I know. I miss you, too. But it'll only be like this for a short while longer, and then you can come round every day and read to me while I paint, yeah?" he said, lifting your chin to look at him. 
Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt your heartbeat quicken, his brown eyes not letting yours go. Your eyes flickered to his mouth briefly, your lips parting slightly. Looking back at his eyes, you saw something flash in them that you couldn't quite parse, an expression you hadn't seen before. Finally, you nodded, letting him pull you into him and kiss your forehead, enjoying the warmth and comfort you felt as you were wrapped tightly in his arms.
---
September 17, 1805 - Y/I, I can't believe you had a book about the exact artist I was talking about! I'll pop by yours later to say a proper thank you. Yours, B
Benedict walked into your sitting room, sprawling on the couch before you with his arm behind his head, silently waiting for you to look up from your book. But you had just gotten to an exciting part, and your eyes remained glued to the page, ignoring your best friend's attempt to get your attention. 
You heard him huff and muttered a soft "Just a second, Ben" as your eyes raced across the page, eager to know what happened next. In response, he slid further down the couch and crossed his arms, eliciting a laugh from you and finally drawing you away from your book. 
"You were barely waiting ten seconds, Benedict!" you exclaimed, secretly pleased he was so eager to see you. He was leaving for Oxford in a few weeks, and although you were trying not to think about the reality of him going, you were acutely aware that you would soon be unable to see him every day.
He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, responding with a teasing, "It felt like ten years!" 
In recent months, the two of you had become inseparable. Your days were spent reading next to him as he painted, listening to him talk about his most recent artworks, or going for nature walks if you found yourself in Aubrey Hall. Anything to keep him close by before he left for Oxford, you reasoned. Though you couldn't help the growing affection, you were feeling, finding it impossible to look away when he tousled his hair just so and being a bit too pleased every time he complimented you. Every handsome smile or cheeky wink he sent your way lit you up inside, melting your heart just a little bit.
The problem was, and of course, there was a problem, that Benedict was always like this. Nothing about his demeanor had changed; your friendship was still the same as it had always been. Except now you found yourself spending a little too much time in the mornings making sure your hair looked good in case he popped by unannounced. Regardless, you knew Ben did not reciprocate your affections, so you tried to ignore these feelings as best as you could, folding them up very small and tucking them neatly in the corner of your heart for later examination.
Now, you found yourself on a couch against a wall of Benedict's studio, reading Romeo and Juliet as he was quietly sketching. This was quite possibly your favorite thing to do. Spend quiet afternoons together, reading and painting, enjoying each other's company. You took a moment to look at him as he scrunched his nose, unhappy with a certain aspect of the sketch. 
He sighed and looked up at you, nodding toward your book. "What has Shakespeare got to say today?"
"That marriage is a death sentence," you replied, voice deadpan. 
Ben burst into laughter. "Oh, come off it. It can't be that bad in real life. That's only a play! Besides, you've still got a while before you have to think about that," he tried to reason with you.
"Well, maybe. But it just sounds so unappealing. I want to do this. What we're doing now. I want to keep doing it. I don't want to be a wife! I just want to read and study," you argued. 
Benedict stood up, coming to sit beside you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know, darling. I'm sorry," but he knew you had more to say.
You groaned, pushing your forehead into his shoulder. "I just don't think I'll ever be happy if I'm forced to marry. And I most likely will be, knowing my mother. She'd rather die than have one of her daughters turn into a spinster," you huffed, missing the sympathetic look you got from Ben. "And who will my husband be? A clueless man with no interest in me beyond my ability to be a good wife? I cannot imagine a worse fate."
---
May 8, 1810 - Y/I, I'll keep this one short, seeing how I'll be properly back in a few days! I've been quite busy with graduation, but I'm excited to come home. Yours, B
You smiled as you placed the last letter you had received from Benedict back in your box. The collection was complete. Three years of correspondence between the two of you finally come to an end. You carefully closed the box and returned downstairs, where a big family gathering was occurring in the garden. 
As soon as you stepped outside, Ben was at your side, chatting your ear off about one thing or another. He had barely left you alone since he had been back, granting you only a few minutes to yourself, but you couldn't complain. You wrapped an arm around his torso as you walked back to the garden table. 
"Oh, you look so darling!" cried Violet, cooing at the two of you. 
"You're proper adults now! Both of you! How the time has passed," your mother added, reaching out to hold Violet's hand. 
Benedict could only smile, too happy to be back at your side to focus on anything else. He had missed you loads while he was at Oxford, but having your arm around him now, he realized just how much he needed you. Ben placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, unable to help himself as you sat down at the table. He sat right next to you, taking one of your hands into his own so he could play with your fingers as you chatted with Primrose and Violet. 
Oxford had been a riot, to be sure, but he was so glad to come home to you.
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