#and had to doodle some of my favorite moments

[goldenflurry]

New life is so silly

[thepatchycat]

I’m glad you’re safe (and I’m so, so sorry)

…

(Sketch-only version under the cut)

[shepscapades]

7. Lincolnshire Posy: II. — Composed by Percy Grainger, Performed by the Dallas Wind Symphony

It’s been on my mind lately that I had a lot of these Spotify song requests that I finished and never got around to posting, so I’m gonna try to chip away at posting these over the next few weeks! BUT Hi Ghost :] It’s so funny this was the song you ended up getting the number for; I had actually listened to it on loop during the deepest trenches of ranchers brainrot however many months ago, so I’m really happy I ended up being able to draw something for them!! <3 This is also the part where I expose myself for being an unashamed band kid =w= Grainger’s one of my favorite composers, so I listen to his works a lot and couldn’t help associating the really soft hopeful horns with this kind of healing period for the ranchers ;w;

I probably won’t ever really go into the details of the m-1 server’s overall plot, but I think the general vibe for m-1 ranchers is that these little moments of soft sunlight and healing bones were some of the most needed for them, so that’s why scenes like this always stand out in my mind <3 Context aside though, I think m-1 ranchers are just super sweet so!! figured I’d Full-Send share this soft doodle of them :]

[yan-est]

hi there koni! i rly rly enjoyed the yan! househusband hcs and i'm also rly excited to see more of your writing!! with that being said, how did reader even meet yan! househusband? what was their love story like?

AAAAA my first ask⁉️ omg thank you anon, glad you enjoyed the hcs! now here are some crumbs teehee

sfw, implied manipulation

meeting with yan!househusband for the first time would be pretty cute imo. i can't really see him falling in love with someone during his adulthood, especially since that's when all of his issues came up, soooo i mostly see him falling for reader during their high school years together. so now you'd think that they'd be high school sweethearts, right? mmm, not quite.

you, my dear sweet reader, would barely notice him during your freshman year. he wasn't exactly the most popular or the liveliest student around. he was actually the quiet kid who sat in the corner of the class. nobody really paid much attention to younger!yan!househusband, except a lot of people knew that he rides a limousine on his way home. yeah, he's filthy rich.

but then, on the first day of sophomore year, you were late to class and the only seat left was next to younger!yan!househusband. well, not that you were complaining or anything. he mostly kept to himself and only talked when necessary. you thought he was reserved, until one sunny afternoon during lunch break, you caught him doodling on his textbook. when you peeked at it, the person he drew looked a whole lot like you.

that'd be the first time you two would actually interact with each other, but younger!yan!househusband would be an absolute flustered mess when you realized that it was you who he drew on his textbook lmao.

days after that event, you realized that he wasn't actually so bad. he comforted you when all of your friends suddenly left you without any explanation, he made sure to walk you home after school, and most of all, he'd leave snacks on your desk. how did he know your favorite snack…?

eh, well, it doesn't matter. what matters is that every time you think of high school, you'd think of him. he was always there in the picture. always.

so it wasn't really a surprise when the moment you two graduated, he nervously brought out a promise ring and asked you to be his significant other. you found his actions endearing, and so— of course— you said yes. oh, darling, you really had no idea what you were getting yourself into, huh?

[syoddeye]

consequence / shopping

price x f!reader | 1.5k words series directory tags: stalking mention, white lies, jp fears no 'friend zone', entitled cats a/n: john price vs. his feelings. john price vs. old man allegations. john price vs. his barista . ☕

john’s grip tightens on the wheel as he turns onto her street. he’s imagined this moment since he set her in his sight. possessing the patience of a sniper comes in handy with endeavors such as this, and it’s good to pull a trigger that isn’t lethal for once.

she’s waiting outside. good girl.

nose-deep in her phone, she doesn’t notice him until he’s a building away. his heart jumps into his throat when her eyes lift, and her face follows. she squints, then shades her eyes with a hand. a smile breaks the mild confusion, and she rises to her feet from the steps outside her door.

he forces himself to relax, painfully aware of the intensity of his gaze. he can’t risk running her off, but he has to see it—the moment of realization.

~~

it cannot be the same car. calm down, you order yourself, plastering a small smile on your face as john rolls to a stop, grinning back through the window. it’s statistically impossible. there are thousands of cars in town, plenty of the same make and model. this is just the universe’s idea of a cruel joke: giving your favorite customer the same car you smashed your face and arm into. your good hand shakes as you open the door and sink into the passenger seat.

coincidences happen.

~~

“hey.”

“afternoon. you look nice.”

“yeah? i was worried you wouldn’t recognize me without the apron.” she says wryly, draping her bags over her lap.

i’ve memorized your face and more. which one would think would help decipher the minutiae of her expressions. does she recognize the car? remember it? she was drunk and crashed hard enough to break bone—fuck, he hadn’t thought of the effects of the impact. too caught up.

he watches her buckle, eyes falling to her cast. it’s filling with signatures fast. the space that held his number is covered in a drawing of a cat. all that remains is ‘john’. 

“did you draw over my number?”

“i didn’t think you’d want the free advertising.”

smart girl. the number isn’t traceable further than falsified records, but it's best to avoid nuisance. he lets the doodle eclipse his grand scheme and pretends to adjust the mirror. he’ll wait until the time is right. “that i don’t.”

the drive to her preferred market is ten minutes by car. she might’ve managed alone, but he’s done some of his best work in ten minutes. performed miracles and misdeeds. he spends this bit on recon.

he susses out a little more information about her life: she’s worked, on and off, as a barista for nearly a decade. she recently took in a kitten, the very one depicted on her arm, and named her chicken cutlet a tortoiseshell.

“it's all i had for food. now cece’s a snob.”

“points for uniqueness.” he grins and gestures at the doodle on her arm. though he doesn’t have much of an eye for art, it’s obviously stylized. “and creativity. bet you did her justice, like a regular artist.”

the comment, meant as a compliment, makes her wince. she ducks her head in poorly concealed shame, pretending to check something in her wallet. it comes out casually, like a weather report—she dropped out of an mfa program to move here, for the ex, a year ago.

the details resurrect his anger. 

the tremble in her hand tells him to leave it. he will. for now.

the car park is packed, and it’s all he can do to not celebrate when he finds a space on the first go. he cannot be much older than her, but he’d rather avoid feeding the ‘old man’ reputation his sergeants encourage.

she separates her reusable bags as they climb out of the car. “do you have any pets?”

he circles to her side and takes them without asking, “no. afraid my schedule doesn’t allow for it.”

“oh.” 

he beats her to the baskets, tossing her bags into the bottom, and she strolls past him. he traipses behind, head on a subtle swivel, inwardly tickled at how normal it feels. it’s not often he shops, let alone in the company of a bird. it makes him puff up. go a bit softer in the face, especially when a woman roughly his mother’s age gives them a long, wistful look in produce.

it’s nice playing house, even in the middle of a bustling supermarket, dodging the less spatially aware and rogue children. it strokes his ego to flex an arm over her head to reach the shelves she can’t and carry a bag of cat litter in the other. he cracks a joke about tinned fish, and though she doesn’t laugh, he can tell she wants to. how she ignores his suggestions and color commentary on other shoppers. it’s fascinating to watch her, all business, as if she were behind the coffee bar. tapping items off the list on her phone, triple-checking a recipe.

while she’s distracted, slowly loading the conveyor belt one item at a time, john pushes his luck. he slips his card and pays.

her focus breaks when she sidles up, reaching for her wallet, only for the cashier to offer the receipt. she takes it, confusion turning to understanding, and her jaw clenches. her thanks are muttered, and she promptly joins him in bagging what’s left.

he knows she’s upset before she speaks, practically punching items into the bag.

“please don’t do that again.” she whispers. “my wrist is broken. i am not broke.”

angry as she is, she sails out the doors without waiting. clearly expecting him to tote her bags like a porter and follow.

which he does, of course. it’s what he signed on for.

good view, at least.

the ride back to her place is quiet, but he feels the tension burning away with the light. it’s damn distracting how the sun plays off her skin and hair. ten minutes fly by. she turns to him as the car idles, a storm of thoughts in her eyes. severe, tempestuous, and pretty.

“park. you’re not off the clock.”

“yes, ma’am.”

the bag handles loop into one fist, and the litter rests on his shoulder. he beams, and with the complete confidence he usually carries himself, he starts up the steps of her building.

“uh…john?” 

he glances over his shoulder and sees her fidgeting at the bottom of the stairs.

“that’s…not actually my address.”

his brows raise, fall, and pinch in rapid succession. the minx. a fake address. smart.

she sheepishly apologizes on the walk to one street over and explains. 

“i mean, this part’s weird.” 

“what part?”

“befriending regulars,” she shrugs. “the counter’s there for a reason—to sling espresso, yeah, but it’s also a social barrier.”

“do you often befriend regulars?” he hopes not.

“god, no.”

thank christ. he’ll start memorizing faces on his next trip, just in case.

“but being polite to people is part of my job.”

he cracks a careful grin. “do you get reprimanded for that?”

her eyes roll. “ha. ha. no. my manager’s a coward and afraid of me. what i mean is, it’s a tightrope. be nice, but don’t be too nice to the wrong people, else they’ll stalk you or something.”

john’s gut tightens. what was his plan again? expose her? he manages a chuckle. “and am i one of those…wrong people?” effortless.

“well, you’re a minute from my kitchen with an invitation. so.” she smirks after a second. “are you fishing for a compliment? for me to say you’re special?”

heat shoots up his neck and colors his cheeks. “i am not–”

“relax. i’m joking. but you are the first customer i’ve brought back to my place.”

the phrasing instantly sets him on high alert. it could mean nothing. it could mean anything.

her place is markedly worse than her fake one. he does not like the look of the neighbors, but the exterior light reaches the walk. he bites his tongue when she veers to the side, cutting down a set of steep stairs to the basement. it won’t do, not long-term.

but the interior of her flat—it’s everything he did and did not expect. 

it’s sensibly furnished and lit to compensate for its floor plan and limited windows. it’s cozy and colorful, with artwork fixed to the walls and littering various surfaces. some pieces are more notable than others: tiny statuettes of women, a diptych of a cow, and a collage of what looks like found notes. in the living area, there is a console and a headset, a small collection of games and dvds, and ten too many knickknacks. a stuffed backpack occupies a seat at the table.

he moves mechanically behind her, toeing off his shoes and treading straight into the surprisingly decently sized kitchen. he sets the bags and litter down, rolling his shoulder as he soaks it all in.

might be his only chance, after all.

something bumps his shin. two big amber-colored eyes stare up at him, unblinking.

“you must be the famous cece.” 

“the one and only.”

the young cat weaves through his legs, then jumps, immediately sticking her pointy head into the bag containing the chicken. she meows, indignant, when her human automatically hooks her around the middle without looking and returns her to the floor.

“bad.” she murmurs, unpacking. “would you mind setting the litter next to the door down the hall?”  

john obeys, though he lingers outside of said door, staring through a crack into the dark of her room. she has a big, comfortable-looking bed. a shudder passes over him. an unhelpful throb. christ. feels like a fucking teenager. he pulls himself together, retreating toward the door to leave. probably overstayed his welcome.

just as he turns to say his goodbyes, she glares from the kitchen. around her neck, untied, hangs an apron—don’t be afraid to take whisks.

“where are you going? i’m making dinner.”

it’s not an invitation. it’s an order.

he slips his shoe off.

“yes, ma’am.”

[riekirei]

fan favorite— nishimura riki

you and riki, the iconic duo, were inseparable. your friendship was so loved in public, but it was something more in private.

pairing: idol!riki x 8th member!fmr | genre(s): fluff | content/warning: they kiss like once, riki teases reader and vice versa

[requested]

word count: 1.2k

author’s note: been insanely inactive but wtv, here’s something i wrote recently. hope u enjoy reading this! likes n reblogs r highly appreciated. not proofread

you step out of the van with the beaming sun rays hitting your face, the smell of the easing ocean breeze, and the sounds of the crashing waves filling the area. you pull your digital camera out of your bag that hung just by your shoulder. you try taking a picture of the bright summer sun that shined that day, but it was way too bright for you to see. you squint your eyes to the sun’s light that nearly blinded you when a hand’s shadow appeared from behind, hovering over your eyes to shield it from the light. it was riki, he had just gotten out of the van after you. “blinding lights, blinding lights~” (blind - enhypen) he sang as he watched you take pictures with the help of his hand preventing the sun from glaring at you. “hey!! since when have you gone down the car?” you asked him, wondering how fast he’d came as you expected him to take longer. 

you were at a beach for your new album’s concept photos, just like dimension dilemma (i guess it’s associated with the group’s storyline) and the makeup artists and stylists had just fixed your hair and makeup in the van before arriving at the beach. riki was up next to get his hair and makeup done, but he apparently was done? “did they not do your makeup or something?” you added onto your question from earlier. “they didn’t do my hair. probably the style they wanted for this album was something like this” riki replied. “you look good either way sooo” you told him, tucking his dark hair into his ear.

just a moment after, a camera panned towards the place you and riki stood. it was the staff shooting behind the scenes content for them to post on the official youtube channel. you snap out of the conversation you were previously having with riki and face the camera lens that was right in front of you. “hello engene!! today we’re at the beach and we’ll be taking some photos for our upcoming album” you say, making your way through the hot sand, towards the shore. riki follows shortly behind you. the camera films the both of you walking before you come across an area with countless seashells, laid out on the ground. it was quite a rough surface to be walking on so as you stepped on it, you tripped, slightly slipping your body forward. just as you were about to fall, riki’s grabbed your wrist and made sure to carefully support the other side of your torso from hitting the ground. he helped you get on your feet again. “guys y/n’s feeling silly” he says to the camera, laughing at what just happened. “engene, it was ni-ki’s fault, right? he pushed me” (he didn’t hsjahs) you jokingly said. “he pushed me!!!” you added. “nahhh, maybe its just a skill issue to be honest” he told you as you two bickered on camera for the nth time. 

you two found yourselves before the shore, watching the still water reflect the sky as waves came in. you went on your knees to draw doodles and words on the damp white sand. you drew a huge heart with the word ‘engene’ written in the middle. the camera captured the pretty sight before it shifted to what riki was doing. he was standing right where the waves met the shore, the water smoothly gliding on the sand. riki scooped some wet sand, combining it with some drier sand to create a ball. he shaped it with the palms of his hand and set them down to form a pile of multiple sand balls.

“what’s tha-“ you questioned riki before he picked one up and threw one at you. the firm sand ball flew its way towards you, crumbling to pieces as it came into contact with your body. riki bursts out laughing as he sees the mundane look you had on your face. “ha ha, ni-ki. you’re like so funny!” you say sarcastically. you try holding your laughter as you watched riki snicker. he walked back towards the other direction to form more sand balls.

while he wasn’t looking, you bent down over, grabbing a portion of sand that was laid out on the beach. you compressed the grains of sand together to form a sand ball yourself. 

“ni-ki!! look over here!!” you called out, having a plan in mind. just as he turned in your direction, you projected the sand ball right at him, hitting him on his arm. “HEY” riki shouted. 

oh you knew you were done for. like deadass, you were DONE for.

you quickly sprinted away from riki as he chased you across the beach. you stepped into the shallow water, trying to catch a hold of your breath while feeling the cool, relaxing sensation the flowing water had that came in contact with your feet. riki had finally caught up, stepping into the water as well. he wrapped his arms around you, tightly embracing you. “try escaping me now” riki said. “NI-KIII, LET ME GOO!!!” you exclaimed, swinging your body from left to right, attempting to escape him. 

you extended your arm, reaching for riki’s waist. you begun tickling him as you two giggle. he uncontrollably laughed at the tickle he felt. he tries pushing you off of him when you playfully nudge him too, not knowing how strong you had pushed him.

riki fell into the water, getting his outfit wet. “YOU THINK I’M THE ONLY ONE FALLING IN?” he said with a big grin on his face. he grabbed your wrist, pulling you down as you made a splash, landing right next to him. you two sat there and died laughing at what had happened. all this bantering was caught on camera for ENGENEs to watch. they adored the bond you and riki had. they’d make edits, compilations, and several posts about ‘y/n-ki’ and the endearing moments you two had.

you got up, slowly running away from riki who still hadn’t gotten up yet. “Y/N HELP ME UP, I CAN’T- Y/N!!” riki yelled. you looked back and tittered at the sight of riki struggling to get up. “hmmmm what about…. no!” you reply. “OKAY SO YOU DON’T LOVE ME ANYMORE” he responded in a sulky tone. he crossed his arms and pouted his lips. “OKAY!!! I GUESS-“ riki continued before you ran towards his direction, finally giving in and helping the poor boy up. “I’LL HELP YOU UP, OKAY? RELAX PRINCESS ARIEL” you teased riki. “whatever, bro” he said, jokingly giving you a side eye.

the sun set as you and riki spent time with each other at the beach, along with the other members. the cameras cut and the staff called it a day, allowing you all to relax and clear your heads before getting back onto the ride home. you both walked a distance far enough for no one to be able to catch sight of you two. you and riki sat on the sand, feet buried in it. you rested your head on his shoulder while you two stare into the horizon before you. “it’s almost just as pretty as you” riki said as he let out a chuckle. “really?” you reply, lifting your head from his shoulder to look him in the eye. “mhm” he said, slightly nodding his head. you smiled and leaned in to give him a peck on the lips. 

the chemistry between the two of you was good, maybe a lil too good. and the fan favorite duo were great friends on and off cam, maybe a lil more than friends too.

[xxxsaturnxx]

König head cannons

As requested on my most recent poll!! I did try to keep it very neutral and ‘fluffy’. Please let me know who else i should write for im always looking for new ideas!!

König keeps a little journal with him at all times when he’s deployed. Just something to vent at or doodle in. He’s not the best artist but he tries, he even has small doodles in almost every page that kind of look like you.

His journal is VERY private the only person thats allowed to take a peak in there every now and then is you. Sometimes when he’s busy somewhere else in the house and he leaves his journal unattended you put tiny love notes in the corners of the pages.

While he’s not deployed König has three moods. Couch potato, horn dog, and the biggest ball of energy anyones ever seen.

König in couch potato mode is just a giant weighted blanket. He’ll lay on the couch taking up the entire couch just watching a movie or show of his choosing. You can try to join him but only if you can lift a part of him up, and if you can’t the floor or his lap would do fine.

König while he’s all energetic can mean a couple things for you. He’ll either want you to join him on a run or hike, but his idea of a small hike or a short run might just kill you half way through.

NSFW MDNI

When könig is riled up he’s practically glued to you in someway. His hands would most likely fall on your chest or waist trying to feel every inch of skin he can reach. His mouth would be marking you all over your neck, chest, and legs are going to be covered with bite marks and hickes red and sore.

Sometimes when he’s particularly desperate humping is to be expected. In those times you can bring down this massive 6’10 hulking man into nothing more than a whiny mess, Begging for your touch. He’ll look up at you while on his knees with those beautiful ocean eyes begging for any kind of attention/friction.

If hes just gotten back from deployment best believe the first thing hes looking for is you. He’ll drop everything at the door slamming it with his foot. The second he spots you his hands and lips are all over you. He mumbles against your skin about how much hes missed you before taking your lips into his.

Later that day he makes sure that you feel every inch second hes missed you. Almost breaking the bed, couch, you and table throughout the night. He does make sure to slow down every once and a while to just love on you and to also give you a break.

Königs stamina is very well above average much like the rest of him. He understands that breaks are important so you don’t break. ( as euphoric as it would be)

His after care routine is just as much for you as it is for him. Back rubs, bathroom trips and head scratches are some favorites but just having him there still breathing heavy wiping the sweat from your brow and giving you soft kisses all over your face is definitely on the top of all favorites.

König rarely loses control when you’re together, always couscous of how you feel and react. But there are those moments when he just snaps in the best way possible.

Sometimes he snaps before hes even entered you and he just grips the base of your head and positions you like you’re nothing more than a rag doll. König just relentlessly thrusting in and out of you while hes holding you still with one hand pushing your head down by your neck and the other sinking into your hip.

Other times könig and you are mid stroke when he snaps. Positioning you under him almost being crushed by his weight. He mindlessly pounds into you like a wild animal, both times ending with him filling you over and over again till hes had his fill, leaving you dripping and cock drunk.

It is almost guaranteed that you wake up the next morning sore and bruised but very satisfied. He’ll apologize for losing control by pampering you the entire day, so expect a lot of cuddles, kisses, and being fed your favorite foods.

[owliellder]

All Pent Up

MDNI 18+

Puppy Hybrid! Leon Kennedy x afab! Reader

Word count: 3.85k

Warnings: Porn w/ plot, unprotected p in v (stay safe), no use of y/n, spanking, crying, slight ass-play.

Description: After a long night at work, you come home to a very pent up Leon. A trip to the park to help with that energy turns a little sour.

Tags: Submissive! Leon, neck biting/marking, begging, cunnilingus, knotting, mommy kink, fluff, near illegal amounts of praise AND aftercare, a lovely creampie to end the morning

Not proofread. I am once again sat here bored at work. More self indulgence since I work the same kind of job aforementioned in this lmao.

Also VERY much inspired by @abp0rns art of puppy Leon, specifically the two I put below the crop. Please check out their art they gotta be one of my favorite doodlers out there.

Edit: cross posted onto Ao3 if it's easier for you to read there (cause it is for me)

It had been an incredibly boring night at work for you. Working graveyard at a gatehouse meant you did practically nothing. Easy money, sure, but you can only watch so many movies and doodle so much before it becomes redundant.

The only thing keeping you going was making sure your puppy, Leon, stayed happy and comfortable. You'd found him at the shelter a few months back, and though you never considered yourself to be a hybrid kinda person, Leon was just too damn cute at that shelter.

After adopting the hybrid, you quickly fell into a nice afterwork routine; come home, get jumped by Leon, make breakfast while he asked a plethora of questions about your night and made sure you knew just how much he missed you by licking and slobbering all over you. He was the sweetest boy, but man was he excitable.

Some mornings, you'd come home a bit more awake than others. It was random and you're not sure what made that so, but today was apparently one of those days.

~

"-sosososo glad you're home, mommy! I've been so lonely and bored without you!" Leon happily talked on after you'd walked through the door, his golden fur covered tail thumping loudly against the back of the couch. You remained quiet as you let him ramble, reaching up to pet through his messy bedhead with a smile. "I chewed on my toys, broke one of the squeakers though, but you've gotten me plenty of other toys for me to play with!! I really like this fluffy red pig you got me-!"

He continued to talk loudly about everything he did after you left for work only 8 hours prior, running around to grab and show you his chewed up toy and his favorite toy, tail continuing to wag avidly all the while.

"Alright, alright.. settle down, Leon.." You spoke up, cutting off his talk about laying in your bed so you could take a moment to shed your work clothes in favor of some more comfortable lounge wear; an old, faded graphic tee and a pair of soft sweatpants.

The hybrid followed you throughout the apartment while continuing to ramble, albeit a lot quieter now. Clearly Leon had a lot of energy this morning, which wasn't unusual by any means, but since you weren't all that tired this morning you decided that a trip to the dog park would be a good way for him to get some much needed exercise and enrichment.

After making breakfast, you dressed your puppy in a cozy outfit since it was always little chilly in the mornings where you lived, damn cold desert. You only had to reach for the leash for him to start jumping and yapping enthusiastically, making it rather difficult to hook it onto his collar.

You decided to stay in your comfy clothes, seeing as it would keep you warm enough until the sun warmed the air outside.

"Do you think Chris will be there?! Can you text his owner?? Who else is gonna be there?! I can smell the park from here!-" Leon rambled excitedly as he tugged you along to the park, smelling every bush and tree the two of you passed thoroughly. His tail never stopped wagging, those soft floppy ears perked forwards as he moved his head every which way, focusing in on every movement and sound while beelining to the park. He knew the way there, the leash was just to make sure you didn't get lost.

The air was cool the, sun beginning to warm you up. It was starting to bring out your exhaustion, but you wanted Leon to get at least half an hour of playtime in so he wouldn't bug you while you slept later. The thought alone made it easy for you to power through that brain fog that threatened to settle in.

You and Leon walked across the street once the tall chainlink fence that bordered the dog park was in view, the Golden Retriever hybrid practically dragging you to the other side of the street as his excitement grew. There were always other hybrids out early in the morning, the cool mornings were nicer for walks compared to the hot afternoons, at least in your opinion.

Leon was rubbing himself along the side of the fence, sniffing with a large goofy smile on his face. He had playmates that were normally here around this time, namely Chris, a German Shepard hybrid. Though Chris was a little bigger than Leon, they always played nicely, never having gotten into any sort of scuffle.

Chris was quick to notice Leon, running up to the fence so he could sniff him. They rapidly got each other riled up, so the moment you made it to the gate you unhooked the leash from Leon's collar. This wasn't so he didn't get choked out when he launched into the park, no, it was because the last time you forgot to unhook his leash first, you were yanked face first into soggy grass and mud.

The second you unlatched the gate, Leon pushed it open. He sprinted into the grassy park, Chris not far behind before tackling the smaller hybrid with a playful growl. The two roughhoused, chased each other, and played tug-of-war with a stick Chris had found.

You decided to sit on a bench not too far from where the boys played, looking up from your phone every minute or so to make sure their play didn't turn ugly.

Only 30 minutes had gone by before- "Mommy! Mommy!" Leon shouted from across the park, prompting you to look up from your phone. It only took a moment for your eyes to nearly bulge out of your head when you spotted a now brown Leon. His tail wagged, slapping loudly against the thick puddle of mud he was laying sideways in. "Looklooklook! Chris and I found a ball!" he yelled with a grin, Chris holding up the muddy ball high in the air so you could see it.

You sat there dumbfounded for a brief moment before letting your head fall back, breathing in and letting out a deep sigh as your eyes closed. You tilted your head forwards again, letting your eyes open slowly as your annoyance showed clear on your face.

Your puppy could see your expression change even from where he was, his ears drooping more than they were as the mud had weighed them down a bit. Seems like playtime was over.

Chris' owner wasn't all that happy either, walking over to the filthy hybrids only a few seconds sooner than you did. You pulled Leon from the mud by the collar since he seemed a bit stuck, glaring weakly at the now cowering puppy.

"Leon is always getting Chris into some sort of mess." Chris' owner huffed out, clearly irritated with the situation. You frowned, running your free hand over your face with a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, Leon just seems to really like the mud lately. I can't help that Chris follows, but I'll try to keep Leon from the mud." You didn't really care for someone implying your Golden Retriever puppy was a bad dog, but the idea of confrontation mixed with your ever-growing exhaustion was enough to have you just let it go.

After apologizing again, you let Leon shake off the excess mud from his body before hooking the leash to his collar once more, beginning to pull him towards the gate. He was very resistant to leaving, whining and whimpering something fierce. "I'm sorry! ImsorryImsorry! Please I'll be good! Let me stay a little longer mommy! Please I'm sorry! Mommy!"

As pitiful as he sounded, you now had to squeeze a thorough bath in for the hybrid before you were even able to think about sleeping. You continued to drag him along as he fought against you, crying out softly as you finally got him through the gate, closing it before he could run back through.

Your exhaustion was making you irritable, and having to fight to get Leon back home was enough to make you angry. It got even worse when he growled at you.

You stopped walking, the entrance to your apartment building only a few feet away. Turning around to face him, he immediately shrunk down at your furious glare. "Bad boy, Leon." Your voice was harsh, yet also so calm, it scared him. He hated being a bad boy, he never wanted to hear those words together again.

After you started walking again, he followed obediently, staying silent all the way into your apartment. He stood stiffly by the front door once you closed it, watching you stomp away. The puppy was on the verge of tears, his muddy tail tucked between his legs and his ears flat against his head.

Leon's bottom lip trembled the longer he couldn't see you, his ears twitching a bit as he picked up on the sound of the bath faucet turning on. His hands were clasped in front of his legs, head down in shame.

"Leon!" You called out from the bathroom, your tone still laced with irritation, he could definitely tell that much. The hybrid quickly shuffled to the bathroom, trying his best not to get clumps of dried up mud on the carpet along the way.

Leon stood in the bathroom doorway before you gently dragged him in, making silent work of his clothes that were absolutely caked in mud. He knew what to do afterwards, quietly seating himself in the bath, shoulders slumped. The bath was silent except for Leon's weak attempts to apologize, his voice faltering every time once he looked at your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you just looked so disinterested.

After the bath, you shooed the puppy off with a towel draped over his shoulders, lazily washing off his collar in the dirty bath water before unplugging the tub.

Leon sat in the living room, drying himself off as best as he could with the towel. Even after, he shook himself off on instinct, the towel left discarded on the floor. He had sat himself on the couch, still slouched with a strong pout on his face.

He knew he was in trouble. His stomach sank when you walked out and stood in front of him with that same irritated look. You then walked and sat next to him on the left. "Lay across my lap, Leon."

The Golden Retriever hybrid whimpered, though he did as he was told, laying himself so his abdomen was laying on your lap, his tail still tucked between his legs. He yipped when you grabbed the base of his damp tail with your left hand, roughly untucking it so you could get a clear view of his ass. "Look at me, Leon."

He turned his head and tilted it back slightly so he could look up at you, his eyes sad and watery. He didn't have anything to say for himself. "You growled at me. You've never growled at me before." You sounded upset, and you were. You didn't want to punish your sweet boy, but him growling at you for something so insignificant deeply bothered you.

Sighing, you pulled his tail up away from his ass even further, grip tightening on it as you felt him try and tuck it back between his legs again. Wordlessly, you drew your other hand back, a sharp smack along with a cry from Leon ringing out in the quiet apartment. You hated having to do this, but he needed to learn.

A few harsh spanks later and the hybrid's ass was bright red and sore, tears spilling down his face as he sobbed out barely comprehensible apologizes in between loud cries every time you brought your hand down on his tender behind. His hands gripped the couch cushion tightly, those pitiful sobs of his tugging at your heart.

Once you feel Leon'd learned his lesson, you gently ran your hand along both his ass cheeks, soothing the hot and red skin while your other hand caressed the base of his tail. You waited until his crying quieted to talk to him again, listening to him sniffle wetly as you let go of his tail to wipe away his snot and tears.

"Okay, okay... there you go, sweet boy. All done. I'm all done..." you whispered to the whimpering puppy hybrid in your lap, shifting your body sideways so he could climb up and lay his head against your chest. You combed your fingers through his hair with one hand while the other stroked the side of his face, clearing the few stray tears that continued to fall.

Leon buried his face into your chest, hiccuping out muffled apologies as he brought his hands up to wrap around you. "I'm sorry mommy. So-.. sososo sorry... Didn't mean to, mommy..."

As he trembled against you, you couldn't help but feel terrible for punishing him that way. He'd never been bad before, the punishment really shouldn't have been so harsh..

You waited until he quieted to speak up again, tilting your head to the side slightly so you could see his face a little better. "...you took that so well, Leon. Such a good boy for mommy, huh?" Despite the suggestive undertone, you made sure to talk softly, careful not to upset the delicate puppy on your chest.

He lifted his head up slightly, nodding weakly as his eyes turned glassy once more. "Please.. I'll-I'll be a good boy for you m-mommy. I'm sorry- I'm so so sorry mommy- I didn't mean to growl- ImsorryImsorryIm-"

You shushed him, running your hand from the side of his face up through his hair as he began to cry again. "You're a good boy, Leon. I forgive you, baby.."

All Leon wanted to do was make this right. He never wanted to be a bad boy again. He hated the way you spoke to him, the way you had looked at him. It was so scary, he wasn't a bad boy, no, he wasn't.

His mind was flooded with everything he could possibly do to make it up to you, tears falling onto your shirt as he pulled himself up off of you. He crawled backwards and sat back on his haunches, giving you a wary look as he tucked his fingers under the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Oh, Leon, sweetheart, you don't have to-" "Please..." Leon's meek voice cut you off, making you pause for a moment before nodding with a smile. His hands trembled as he pulled your sweatpants down, taking your panties with them. The hybrid hiccuped again before bringing his head down between your thighs, putting your legs over his shoulders as he cautiously placed his hands onto the points of your hips

It only took a second before he shoved his face into your cunt, whimpering at your smell and taste as he licked between your folds. You gasped, feeling his tongue eagerly lap up your slick as it leaked out of you, his low whimpers vibrating deliciously against you. "Leon~... oh~.. easy, boy..."

You reached a hand down to gently stroke his hair, attempting to get the puppy hybrid to calm down a bit still. He was obviously so eager to please, though he was still shaken up by the punishment; tears falling from his eyes, quiet sobs muffled by your pussy, eyes closed, and cheeks flushed a beautiful pink. His tail had started to wag again and you were relieved to see it sway slowly. You just wanted to see your puppy happy and excitable again like he always was.

Leon continued to lap at your cunt, keeping himself firmly buried in it. His breathing was a bit shaky but you just let him do what he needed to do, reaching your hand to the right a bit so you could stroke one of his soft floppy ears. He sighed at the feeling, his tail wagging a little faster.

"That's a good boy, Leon~... god- such a good boy for his mommy.." You praised the hybrid as he worked his mouth on you, the praise causing him to whine into your cunt. His eyes peaked open, looking up at you as small tears fell from them. "Good boy~..." You ran your hand down to stroke your thumb between his eyes, prompting him to close them again with a sigh.

Your words encouraged him further, sucking at your clit when his tongue wasn't buried inside of you. The puppy hybrid licked all around, making sure none of your sweet slick was left to waste. He eased his grip on your hips, partially worried he would hurt you, but mostly cause he adored the way you writhed when you drew close to your orgasm. He relished in how you pulled his head impossibly closer, practically grinding against his face, using him. What a good boy he was.

Leon was in heaven when you came, whimpering into your cunt as you gushed against his face. He made sure to lick up everything he could, even dipping down to your ass for a minute, tongue flat against the puckered hole. He'd be mad if he saw the couch got some of your juices.

After a moment, he pulled his head away, resting the side of his slick covered face against your thigh as he looked up at you with those puppy-dog eyes that you just couldn't resist. You knew what he wanted, and who were you to deny him?

"My good boy wanna fuck his mommy? Show his mommy what a good boy he is?" You whispered, to which he eagerly nodded in response, his ears perking up. You could hear his tail thump lazily against the back cushion of the couch, all the while watching him lick his lips. "I-I'll be a good boy for mommy. I'm a good boy-..good boy for mommy.." he mumbled quietly, hoisting himself up onto his haunches again after carefully laying your legs down off his shoulders. His thick cock was leaking pre-cum, flushed red at the tip while his knot was fully swollen. It was hard to look away.

Leon continued to mumble to himself, almost like he was trying to convince himself that he was a good boy. His breathing was still shaky as he watched you flip over, your ass up in the air while you rested your elbows on the armrest of the couch.

The poor thing was practically drooling at the sight of you, frozen in place, just staring at your glistening pussy. Your voice snapped him out of his trance, a hushed "Pretty boy..." causing him to lurch forward and mount you without further hesitation.

You cried out as he shoved his cock into you halfway, stopping only to grab the skin right above your collarbone with his teeth. He made sure he was positioned properly, shifting slightly before pushing his throbbing dick all the way. He whined at the way your slick walls gripped him, his knot pressed firmly against the outside of your cunt.

Leon's teeth broke skin as he began to piston in and out of you. He was drooling, whimpering, moaning, and his tail was wagging so fast. He loved the way his mommy felt, gripping his so tightly, sucking his thick cock in.

His let go of your skin to lick at gently, which was a stark contrast to his fast and rough thrusts. "So sorry mommy- sososo sorry.. never growl at you again- ah~..! I-I'll be mommy's good-.. good boy.."

The hybrid panted next to your ear, reaching his hands up and under your loose shirt to grip and massage your breasts. His fingers pinched and tugged at your sensitive nipples, causing you to moan loudly. You could feel every bit of his cock as he slammed it into you over and over again, the tip kissing your cervix which made you hiss at the slight pain it caused.

"Gonna- hnghh~.. gonna fill mommy up.. gonna be mommy's best boy again..." Leon whined, tilting his head to the side so he could nip at your neck, kissing and licking under your jaw. He sucked numerous hickeys down your neck, making quick work of the other side as well. He wanted you to remember how good he was for you, how much he was willing to do to make things better, what a good boy he was for you.

It didn't take long for him to near his own orgasm, his chin resting over your shoulder as his hands had worked their way back to your hips. He was so close; the sounds of your moans, the sinful way your pussy squelched with slick as he fucked into you, your smell, the lingering taste of you on his tongue, everything was just so overwhelming.

The puppy hybrid didn't have the words to give you warning, only a long drawn out whine as his hips stuttered forward, knot stretching you open. You came again from the feeling, barely being able to clench around his knot. It was just so big.

With his cum pumping into you, you could only groan pleasantly at the feeling of being so full, his knot having basically plugged you to the point that none of it could escape.

You could partially register Leon running his hands up and down your body, anywhere he could reach in his position, bunching up your shirt in the process. His large hands felt nice, helping you come down from your high. He was whispering something, you couldn't make out what, but it was probably the same thing he'd been spewing before.

~

After Leon was able to pull out of you, you made sure to reassure him over and over that he was your good boy, and he'd always be your good boy.

You made him a little snack once you'd cleaned yourself and him up, seeing as the park and your at-home playtime had influenced his appetite quite a bit. You loved to see him happy again; those beautiful blue eyes crinkled with a smile as that fluffy tail of his wagged.

Your body finally realized how tired it was once more, your brain catching up with that as well. You waved Leon, who was elated to follow you, into your room, practically bounding in like a deer. He begged to lay the way you two did on the couch, and again, who were you to deny him?

You laid back, head on your pillow as Leon nestled himself on top of you. He laid his head on your chest, turning his head to the left as he rested his arms on either side of you, his hands just barely tucked up under your pillow after pulling the blankets up over the both of you.

"You're the greatest boy anyone could ask for, Leon. Always taking such good care of me.." you whispered as his eyes closed, his tail going from a lazy wag to a stop as he fell asleep.

"I love you, my sweet boy.."

[vmlnrznotfound]

HEYYY BB if you’re requests are open how about dating hcs for nagi and/or sae 🤭🤭

sfw or nsfw idm 😳😳

DATING BLUE LOCK BOYS.

characters: nagi, sae(separate)

a/n: lumi my love! your wish is my command!

nagi seishiro

he has a habit of telling you about his dream first thing in the morning as if you're his dream journal. cute scenario: one time he saw you in a pretty adventurous dream he had and immediately took his phone to voice message you. "yeah...that happened...and what else um. yeah that happened too, but i don't remember...and then...and then nothing. i woke up,"

whether you're talking or walking together, he's simply lean in to capture your lips/cheeks in a quick yet lingering kiss. in short, he has a habit of stealing kisses when you least expect it, "i just felt like it."

at school where you would sit next to him, nagi would pull up your sleeve—a canvas awaiting. he'll doodle on your arm. and when you take your hand back, he'd simply pout.

sei doesn't dislike your friends, rather he envies them if you spend more time with them than him. after spotting you as you were talking with your friends in the hallway, he'd simply say your name softly and hug you from behind. your friends would laugh and wave you bye to leave you alone with your clingy boyfriend.

seishiro treasures the quiet moments you two share. words won't be necessary. his love language is simply physical touch and quality time.

despite his laid-back nature, seishiro enjoys teasing you. he'll lightly tug on your clothes or whisper something suggestive in your ear, just to see you blush. his favorite pastime is watching your reactions, finding them both adorable and enticing.

when sleeping together, sei is most affectionate when he's half-asleep. he loves those quiet, early morning moments when you snuggle into his embrace. he’ll murmur sweet, sleepy words, sometimes not fully aware of what he's saying, but always making you feel cherished and loved.

during quiet moments, sei likes to just watch you without saying anything. he’ll sit beside you, observing how you interact with the world. whether you’re focused on a book or chatting with friends, he finds comfort and affection in these silent observations.

asking you stuff out of the blue. they may be random or just some would you rather questions. "you're picking the second option? i would pick the first if i were you. we don't get along. we should break up...nah, don't leave me,"

itoshi sae

sae has a complex way of showing love—whether it’s through subtle actions like buying your favorite snacks or grand gestures like an apology filled with kisses. his approach to romance is a mix of practical and emotional, reflecting his deep feelings for you.

sae often surprises you with small, meaningful gifts that reflect his attention to your likes and interests. he pairs these with intentional moments of quality time, hence his love language [gift giving + quality time].

sae is protective of you, sometimes in ways that might seem over-the-top but are deeply affectionate. he may grumble and complain, but it's his way of showing care and ensuring you’re aware of how much you matter to him.

sae has another wild dream where a soccer match determines the fate of the universe, and you’re the only teammate. he wakes up still fuming about the game but finds comfort in your presence. as you help him get over his grumpiness, he playfully accuses you of being the cause of his dream’s chaos and showers you with affection. read that drabble here.

sae would prefer you doing his skincare. while you're sitting on top of the sink, sae standing closer between your legs and arms wrapped around your waist. the skincare can simply be applying moisturizer or a whole set of steps, he doesn't mind.

sae often shows his affection through small, subtle actions. he might leave you a cup of your favorite coffee on a chilly morning or send you a quick message to remind you of an inside joke, showing his care in understated ways. [inside jokes are rare!]

sae’s comfort is simple yet profound: a warm embrace and the gentle assurance, “i’m here, i’m here,” his presence a steady anchor in your storm.

after a fierce argument, sae leaves with his usual cool demeanor intact. when he returns first, it’s not out of vulnerability but with a calm resolve. he kisses you in the bed, apologizing just enough with his intimacy.

after that, he would love sensual baths with you. his apologies are never "sorry" but always "forgive me, please," and his confessions are never "i love you" but always "you mean everything to me,"

[aureum-cordis]

Lost & Found, Part 4

A/N: Hey! It’s been a short while since my last update, college got a little hectic for me. But I’ve gotta admit, this has been my favorite part to write so far. I really have to thank everyone for checking out this little fic and I appreciate all of the reblogs and follows, as well as the notes! Thank you all so much! Check out the other parts here: Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

_________________________________________________

You were more than content to have an audience as you drew an amalgamation of little doodles on the page you were provided. CraftyCorn was offering you any crayon, marker, or pencil you even vaguely gestured to while Bobby BearHug rested her head on DogDay’s shoulder.

The dog was unbothered by this, especially since this was the happiest he had seen the other two in what felt like years. He was grateful for this little moment of peace, even if some nagging thought attempted to plague his mind with negativity. It wasn’t as if he would ignore the thought that this could be stripped away just as quickly as it came, but he refused to feed into it.

Even he was surprised by the way he felt fiercely protective over you and the others, not that it was a negative form of surprise at all. You, and that precious little smile on your face as you lifted the page to show the trio of Smiling Critters that you had drawn them, had caused the little amount of hope in his heart to flourish. If you had survived then it was possible that they all could, that this situation wasn’t impossible to walk away from.

He wrapped his arm around the bear that rested her head on his shoulder in a side hug of sorts, allowing his own head to gently press against hers. The two watched as you gestured for CraftyCorn to join you, to which they happily accepted.

You still sat cross-legged on the ground but the unicorn laid on her stomach to join you, taking a crayon between their hooves and helping you in drawing the scenery of your little drawing of the Smiling Critters as well as yourself.

DogDay and Bobby BearHug watched you and the unicorn as you both drew an adorable image of the strange yet endearing quartet they had formed through chance. You and CraftyCorn were passing crayons and markers of various colors between each other, a wordless understanding between the two of you.

The leader of what remained of the Smiling Critters was more than content to just rest against the bear of the group as he watched you enjoy yourself, even if your hands were now covered in various colors from your composition.

You were far from deterred nor were you upset from such a thing, even going as far as admiring the smear of vibrant colors that covered your palms and fingers.

It was something so small yet noticeable that the dog and the bear couldn’t help but laugh softly at the little display, even more so as CraftyCorn lifted her hooves to show you that their luck with the crafts wasn’t all that orderly either.

The unicorn muttered her praises, admiring the way you drew each of them as well as the background they had been helping you design. You shook your head, pointing at yourself and then the Smiling Critter that had joined you.

She paused for a moment, watching your gesture before it finally clicked what you had meant. “Oh, I didn’t contribute much, this was all you. I could never take credit for it.” They replied in an amused yet genuine tone, it wasn’t fair when you had done the majority of the artwork.

You shook your head again, more enthusiastic this time and bent down to point at the paper. One of your small fingers rested on the drawn unicorn on the page, before you pointed at the real one in front of you. CraftyCorn raised her hooves in a manner that bordered on compliant, yielding their stance on rejecting any credit.

The white furred member of the Smiling Critters shifted from the prone position they were in to a seated one as she spoke. “While I still think I didn’t do much, I appreciate that you let me join you. Together, we created something that easily beats anything I have ever drawn alone.” You were positively beaming as you heard the final agreement that left the artist of the quartet.

Slowly, you moved the papers and the art supplies out of the way as you stood up. CraftyCorn was about to speak when you suddenly wrapped your arms around her torso and squeezed her in a warm embrace.

The unicorn was stunned, unsure of what to do at that moment, and turned to look at DogDay and Bobby BearHug. The dog was about to speak when the bear at his side hugged him in an instant, whispering as she did so. “Hug them!” It was a hushed shout in anything but you seemed unphased, nuzzling into the soft fur that was the unicorn’s chest as they gently wrapped their arms around you in return.

The touch was featherlight, as if you would break should any force be applied. Regardless, you were more than happy to be held even if it was by an incredibly careful unicorn.

A tired yawn left your mouth, the sound still audible despite the fact that you hadn’t, or perhaps were unable, to speak a word. With a balled up first, you rubbed one of your eyes which grew teary from the drowsiness that overcame you.

DogDay knew that you would crash soon when he had found you, the bags under your eyes were more than a sign of the sleep deprivation you suffered from. CraftyCorn allowed her arms to fall to her sides as you broke the hug and backed up slightly. Still rubbing your eyes, you turned to look at the duo that were still close together.

Bobby BearHug hadn’t let go of DogDay since she had first hugged him and he was content enough to not stop her. He didn’t have the heart to do so, not when she had been so distant until you came along, and because he didn’t mind the contact. With a slow and sluggish gait, you walked over to the two of them.

The orange dog was a little puzzled as you approached, extending the arm that he didn’t have around the bear at his side to you. You grabbed his arm and used it to steady your wobbly steps before you promptly sat yourself down in his lap. The suddenness of your action caused some of the wind to be knocked from him, but not a word of protest left his mouth.

He watched as you curled up in his lap and gently pulled the arm you had been holding onto earlier closer to you. He was more than willing to allow you to do such a thing and if he were able to cry in that moment, he would’ve. You wrapped your little arms around his as his hand rested against your back, supporting you to keep you from falling should you stir in your sleep.

A tired smile rested on your face as you looked up at him, before nestling up against his leg and closing your eyes. Together, all three of the Smiling Critters watched as your little chest rose and fell, falling entirely silent to keep from disturbing you as you rested. Collectively, they could all see how exhausted you were, which was exactly why they were more than willing to let you sleep.

For several long moments, they all remained where they were, simply observing you as you clung to the leader’s arm as if they would vanish if you let go. Carefully, CraftyCorn slowly approached the trio and sat down on the side of DogDay that was unoccupied.

There, she rested their chin on his shoulder and looked down at you, nothing but sympathy and a warmth that would soothe anyone in her gaze. They shifted slightly, resting against the dog with her body to be closer to him and you. He was more than pleased with the action, a happiness that he hadn’t felt in a very long time came to the surface, warming his heart and bringing with it an unbridled sense of joy.

You had brought forth a side to himself and the others that he feared was long gone, yet in this very moment it returned. It wasn’t until he heard a steady and rythmic thumping against the ground did he realize what was happening. His tail was the cause of the sound, wagging openly as a display of his happiness and how overjoyed he was that the others had finally been able to find a beacon of hope in this otherwise grim situation.

None of those around him stirred at the disruption nor did they seem bothered by it in the slightest. DogDay himself was embarrassed by the physical reaction that displayed his elation, but it faded as Bobby BearHug continued to embrace him and CraftyCorn’s head now rested on his shoulder and their sides pressed against one another. They were just as content as he was and that only made the thumping of his tail increase in pace.

The only sounds that filled the room were the quiet inhales and exhales of your sleeping form and the sound of the orange dog’s tail as it met the floor as those most important to him were surrounding him. Despite the fact that they had all met you today, they all shared the same sentiment as their leader did. You were now a very dear member of what remained of the Smiling Critters.

[gucciwins]

Harry is in awe of his girlfriend

A/N: something short and sweet while I work on other stories.

+

Y/N loved her students. 

It was obvious by all the care she put into her classroom. She got help every year to set it up with a new theme. The motivational posters, the reading chart decorated with her student’s doodles. Every detail in her room tells a story. It’s her second year, but Y/N knows it is something she wanted to do. The impact she is making may not be seen now, but years down the line they’ll see it started during their time in school.

Y/N was in charge of planting the seed, she knew she didn’t always get to see the flower flourish. 

This week, Y/N had students invite parents to read the children a book of their choice. Y/N had many parents come, it allowed for the student to show off their parent during this time. It reminded her of when her dad made time out of his busy schedule to come in for her. 

Today, Harry was coming in to support his niece as he loved being involved. He was eager too because Harry knew Isabela was in her class. Of course, there was no special treatment but Isabela did get to enjoy lunch with her some days.

Harry got here early, and entered the classroom quietly as to not disturb the class but Y/N noticed him. He took a seat at her back table knowing he’d have to wait until they were home to have all her undivided attention. 

“My friends, you’re all doing great. I know math is not our favorite but I appreciate the volunteers that wanted to come up. You can always come to me during for support. ” Y/N knows what it was like to be anxious in class not knowing if it was okay to ask for extra help. She goes over a few math problems, allowing the students to asks questions. 

From the back of the room, Harry sees how Y/N manages to make every student feel seen and heard. Not once does she raise her voice to get their attention, the class stays focused on her every word and Harry is in awe. He always knew Y/N was good at her job but seeing it in person was something different. 

Y/N had always been a kind soul, he knew that from the moment he met her. Yet in the classroom it seemed as if she only became more open, softer he’d like to say. 

People go in look of their true calling, some find it in dancing or art sometimes never at all but he can say that Y/N found her gift in people. More specifically students. She was helping our future genteration grow and that is something he will always be proud of. Harry decides to text her to share all the joy he’s feeling seeing Y/N flutter around teaching her students. 

Harry 

You are so pretty. 

Your room feels safe and comforting. 

You are amazing. I’m in awe of you. 

I love you.

Harry knows she won’t see it until lunch time and he’s okay with that for now he’ll remain admiring his girlfriend. 

“Now, I’ve got a special guest here today,” Y/N gestures to Harry to stand and make his way next to her. He does so while giving Isabela a small wave. “This is Mr. Styles.” 

“Hi Mr. Styles,” the class greets in unison. 

“Hello, thank you for welcoming me into your class. I’m Isabela’s uncle.”

Isabela cheers, rushing over to give her uncle a hug after Y/N gives her the okay. “Now friends, let’s remember to be respectful to Mr. Styles. While he gets settled in, why don’t we sit criss cross applesauce on the carpet.” 

The children begin to file in, careful not to push each other making sure they sit next to their friends. While Harry reads the title of the bookY/N walks over to her desk. She checks the time on her phone when she catches a glimpse of Harry’s text. Y/N turns her head to see if he’s watching her but finds him deep into the story, using a new voice for each character. The students are hanging on to his every word. Y/N knew Harry was happy to be here to support her. She felt the outpouring of his love from the moment he walked in. 

Yeah, Y/N was lucky to have him.

+

this was the inspiration behind the story

[michibap]

schlatt w/ single mother!reader

-jaded kindergarten teacher!schlatt who children seem to love for whatever reason

-big grumpy man who has 3-5 small children hanging off of him at any given moment

-he’s cool with most of his students, of course there are gonna be little shit head ipad kids

-but a new addition to his class has been keeping his ass BUSY

-it’s this feral little douchebag who communicates exclusively in growls and grunts (though schlatt and a few other aids have a theory that it’s because he’s shy)

-unless it’s to say something inappropriate that he has to scramble to tell the rest of the kids not to repeat

-fairly good with sharing, it’s the other kids who just come and take that are the problem

-because he’ll just fuckin bite them

“Bodhi, we have got to work on this biting thing, dude. Not cool.”

“Hn.”

“Yeah I know he started it, but sometimes you have to be the bigger person, bud.”

“Buh.”

“I don’t know why I bother.”

-DOES in fact know why he bothered

-Bodhi is a cool little dude

-sometimes when he doesn’t go down for a nap with the rest of the students, schlatt will lie on the floor and draw with him

-and the little dude draws some pretty cool shit

-dragons and robots and zombies, other things of the like

-sometimes he’ll let schlatt doodle something on his paper and add his own flare to it

-schlatt has a FUCKTON of art stuck to his fridge, but Bodhi takes the cake

-one of his favorites was a picture he had drawn of schlatt as a werewolf and himself as a knight in shining armor, protecting another stick figure lazily labeled as “MOM”

-that being said

-another perk of Bodhi?

-hot mom

-HOT fucking mom

-like jesus christ dude

-it may or may not be part of the reason why Bodhi gets away with so much

(GUILTY!)

-he met you for the first time a few weeks after Bodhi was enrolled

-usually, he was dropped off at 8am sharp and picked up at 4pm on the dot by his very sweet grandmother

-so, schlatt was a little up in arms when he was still standing on the sidewalk at 4:30, hand in hand with Bodhi, who was very obviously trying to hold back tears but being very brave about it

-when he sees your shit box truck pull up, he’s ready to tear whatever douchebag is in there a new one

-he’s cooking up a snarky comment as the rusted door swings open

-but he fucking short circuits when your head pops out with a toothy smile, toothpick caught between your canines

-smeared in dust, splattered with mud, sleeves of your neon yellow tee rolled up to reveal strong, tanned arms

“Hey, booger!” you greet excitedly, crouching with open arms

-schlatt tries to get a hold of Bodhi, because as disarming as you are, your ass is NOT on the pickup list

-but before he can stop him, the little shit is hurtling himself towards you with an excited shriek,

“MOMMY!”

-you laugh and wrap him up in one arm, the other shooting out to keep the two of you from toppling to the concrete

-grimacing as he pushes his face into the crook of your neck, wiping his snotty nose off on your shirt

-your attention is drawn away by the sound of somebody coughing into their fist

-you look up at where schlatt is still stood on the sidewalk, arms crossed over his chest and brows set into a firm line

“Pickup is at 4.”

-you quirk a brow, moving to stand, scooping Bodhi up with one arm and pushing yourself up with the other

“Is it?” you turn to look at Bodhi, who was eagerly nodding from where his cheek was squished to your shoulder

“My bad, bud. I’ll make it up to ya,” you promise, bringing your free hand up to tickle his side, grinning when he giggles and mashes his face into your shirt again

-you turn to schlatt with a guilty smile,

“Got caught up at the site, you know how it is.”

-schlatt only raises a brow, not ready to let you off the hook so easy

“Sure.”

-Bodhi would not shut the FUCK up about how excited he was for his mom to pick him up today

-and you left him WAITING???

-FUCK YOU???

“Unfortunately, you’re gonna get charged for a late pickup fee. ‘s policy.”

-part of him is satisfied when he sees your eyes go a little wide,

“Damn, no strike system or anything?”

-so that’s where Bodhi gets his mouth from

“Against policy. Unfortunately.”

-your jaw sets,

“Right. So are you just gonna charge it to our account or can I give you cash?”

“What?”

“Because I’d really prefer if I could just give you cash.”

“I- Are you serious?”

-it’s your turn to look exasperated

“Look dude if you don’t know it’s fine-“

“No! No-“ he shakes his head, gathering his thoughts

-Bodhi is looking between the two of you, a little confused

“Just- Follow me.”

-he watches you cock your head, expression eerily similar to the child in your arms

“I just have to put something into the computer in the office.”

-your lips form a little ‘o’ and you nod

“Can we show her homeroom?” a small voice asks

-schlatt’s head fucking WHIPS to look at Bodhi with wide eyes

-that’s the most words he’s heard the kid say at once??

-he locks back in when he sees the little guy flush, not wanting to spook him

-FUCK

-he REALLY wanted to get out of here

-and you’ve done nothing but cause problems

-but he CAN’T turn Bodhi down, especially after seeing the little guy try not to cry earlier AND finally hearing him speak up

-deep sigh.

“Sure, bud.”

-he leads the two of you down the hallway, pretending he’s not straining to listen as Bohdi points things out in the hallway and shyly whispers to you

-you eagerly nodding at whatever he says, asking questions that he answers

-he stops at the door of his classroom, wordlessly motioning towards the open door

-Bodhi squirms out of your arms and runs in, giggling as the motion sense lights turn on

-you slowly walk in after him, taking your time

-taking in all of the nerdy decor he has up on the walls alongside the collection of arts and crafts from the students

-schlatt’s watching you look around, weirdly insecure about what you think about his setup

-though your attention is drawn from the walls when a small hand tugs on your own, leading you towards the sandbox that he frequents

-after a few minutes of fucking around, you glance to where schlatt is standing by the door

“Alright, boog, let’s get this show on the road.”

-schlatt grins at your smaller counterpart as the two of you walk over

“You guys ready?”

-like he wasn’t watching you two like a hawk

-Bodhi nods, and schlatt leads the two of you to the main office, holding the door open for both of you to walk in

-he goes to stand behind the desk, mumbling to himself as he logs in

-paling a bit when the system requests that he inputs your ID

-he flushes, glancing up at you and finding you already looking at him from where you’re leaned against the counter

“Could I, uh, see your ID?”

-he watches you quirk a brow, a knowing smile playing at your lips

“My ID?” you parrot, “A little late for that, yeah?”

-he rolls his eyes at your teasing tone

“Please, like he’s not your twin.” he scoffs, nodding at where Bodhi is patiently sitting in a chair that he looks comically small in

-you grin, turning to look at him for a moment, giving him a silly wink when he perks up

“I dunno, I could be some kiddie nabber for all you know.”

“What?” a small voice interrupts

“Mommy’s gonna kidnap you.”

“Okay!”

-you turn back to schlatt

“I don’t know dude, seems like something that could get you into some pretty deep shit.”

-he really couldn’t help the little grin spreading across his lips, your mischievous energy slowly getting to him

-he leans down a bit a bit closer,

“You wanna know a secret?”

-all he can do is PRAY that he doesn’t get red when you lean in as well

-and you really hope you don’t smell too much like asphalt and BO

“Yeah, I wanna know a secret.”

“You’re not even supposed to be in here.”

-your brows raise a bit and you pull back, no longer holding back your entertained grin

-and his stomach drops because FUCK

-could definitely lose his job over something like that

-BUT….

-you have something to gain from this…

-he can tell by the way your grin spreads that you won’t be sending any strongly worded emails the way you were implying you would

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

-his lips spread into a toothy grin that you match, and he holds out a hand that you firmly shake,

“Deal.”

-with a satisfied nod, you turn and wrangle Bodhi out of the chair, and he giggles as he grabs at your shirt and clings to your middle

“Bye Mr. Schlatt!”

-schlatt grins and gives him a little wave, faltering when you turn around with another one of those smirks

“Later, Mr. Schlatt.”

[doudouma]

hey there!! I hope you are doing well! I was reading your one headcannon dad! Douma x child! Reader and I was wondering if you could do a “continuation” where Muzan had to babysit the child. Make sure to take care of yourself and drink plenty!!!! :)

“douma has a WHAT!?” pt2

muzan babysitting doumas child!(reader)

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read part one here!

this is a semi pt2 of dad!douma! muzan having babysitting doumas child, hm? this will definitely be interesting〜 (reader is also still 2-5, from part one.)

there are no warnings, my dear lotus.

reader is gender neutral.❀ 〜

a/n : hello, im doing quite well! thank your for the reminder, dearest! be sure to take care of yourself, aswell〜

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

hmm… would muzan even want to babysit doumas child?

no, but for the sake of douma getting his mission done, maybe killing some hashira plus him potentially finding the blue spider lily? yes.

he doesn’t even like douma, he’s one of his least favorite upper moons. but after all, douma is still a uppermoon. upper moon two, if you will〜

which means he has advantages that lower kizuki and demons don’t!

muzan would definitely negotiate with douma on why he has to babysit his child. they’re not his! but douma is just so persistent…

“muzan-sama〜! can you please babysit my child for me? while i go on my mission? it’s far too dangerous, i can’t risk losing my precious baby!”

“why? whatever happened to “uncle akaza”? they aren't mine, and certainly isn’t my responsibility. you should just be a better father and just protect them.”

“muzan-sama, please? i’ll give you my beautiful eye in return? akaza-dono is out somewhere. they’re just a baby to me, i don’t want them to be traumatized for what they'll witness. see how cute they look? i promise they won’t cause any trouble〜 they'll spread joy onto you〜 something you may need〜”

💢“go. and be quick. i don’t want to babysit any longer than i have to, for i have more important things to do. i have no use for your eye, either.”

now it’s just you and muzan.. muzan and you..

he would most likely sit you off in a corner and let you doodle on blank papers.

while he finishes up any work he has. and of course looking off into the area you’re in, making sure you’re not causing any trouble〜

for some reason he decides to head your way? he doesn’t even know why, he just does.

when he sees that your actually drawing pictures of landscapes and sceneries, he’s impressed?!

(yes, you are a still toddler. only cool readers over here.)

he asks you questions about your drawings, and listens carefully through your speech impediment.

now that you’ve caught his eye, he moves you closer to where he’s working, at his desk. (congrats, you got promoted from the corner to near his desk!)

out of his old man habits, he starts rambling to you about flowers, and your little self just listening, occasionally asking questions.

it seems like.. the two of you are bonding over flowers, hm? how cute♡

it seems like you’ve got knowledge on flowers yourself, so muzan proceeds to asks you,

“at any point in time of your doings, have you seen a flower thats in deep blue of color? a blue spider lily?”

whatever your answer was, he decides to keep you closer to him.

not only because you could help him find the blue spider lily, but because… well…

now he sort of favors you♡

not your father. but you. he will never admit this either, for you’re still the offspring of douma.

when he finishes up with his experiments for the moment, he turns to you and sees that you’re bored.

he would find something else for the both of you to do. taking a stroll!

he picks you up, and carries you around asakusa, and any nearby beautiful forest, while the both of you still talk about flowers, or anything your toddler brain wants to talk about〜

after around a couple of hours, the two of you return back to the castle. and what’s that, a little smile on muzans face?!

gone, as soon as you look at him, though.

he sees douma, and quickly shoves you into his arms.

“oooh, my baby〜! did you miss papa? i thought of you the whole time! oh, how much i love you♡! muzan-sama, thank you so much! i know my little one wasn’t causing any trouble, right? what did you two do?”

“they were fine. and that’s none of your business, your child is back to you without harm. there'll be repercussions the next time you make me babysit, now leave.”

muzan doesn’t have any love for children. let alone, almost anyone.

overall, he actually didn’t mind babysitting you! not only we’re you easy to handle, but you’re intelligent.

youre fun-filled toddler personality probably what was needed to cheer muzan up, even for just a minute♡

ooo〜 this was so cute, i really loved to write this! somehow, i finished this relatively quick once i started it. once again, thank you all for your patience, my precious flowers❀ 〜

[aphelion-alifer]

relieving wing related dysphoria

something that I see many winged folks experience, including myself, is wing related dysphoria. more specifically, dysphoria relating to not being able to fly or not having wings physically. all my life this is a struggle I've dealt with, and I understand how painful it is. there are ways to relieve it though! here's some things that I've come up with and suggest to those who are struggling:

create mood boards, wallpapers, stim boards, and pinterest boards relating to the sky, your wings, theriotype, shifted form, etc

dive into media that has winged people/creatures (maximum ride, the maleficent movies, the croaking, just to name a few)

play games that let you fly, either with or without wings. bonus points if you're able to do it in VR (roblox, minecraft, feralheart, aer memories of old, superflight, fugl, etc)

practice lucid dreaming or astral projection

blankets!! especially weighted blankets, this can mimic the feeling of having wings

create or buy cosplay wings that look like your own (either typical cosplay wings worn with a harness/straps, or a backpack with wings, or a shawl in the shape of wings)

wear the colors of your wings, theriotype or shifted form

surround yourself with wing related themes or themes related to your theriotype or shifted form (buttons, pins, stickers, doodles, plushies, etc)

wear wing related accessories (rings, necklaces, hair pins, wings you can put on the laces of your shoes, etc)

if you're able to, get wings tattooed on your back or get a tattoo related to your theriotype or shifted form

if you're able to, participate in sky/air related sports or activities (skydiving, wingsuit flying, paragliding, hang gliding, etc)

draw/doodle your wings, theriotype or shifted form!!

meditate and visualize your wings. feel their weight, see their colors and textures, etc.

connect and talk to others who have wings if you need support and are looking for folks who have had similar experiences

carry around a backpack and make sure to give it some weight! having a backpack of a similar weight to my phantom wings tends to make my phantom wings go away, if you're looking to stop your phantom wings from existing for a bit for any reason

collect feathers that look like yours if you have feathered wings

connect with nature! this helps ground me and feel more connected to my natural self. I suggest going outside on a windy day or climbing trees.

stick your head/arms out of the car when you're going somewhere! this is one of my favorite things to do and it mimics what I imagine flying to feel like (pro tip, don't do this if you're driving)

make your room feel like the environment you belong in (using nature or wind ambient sounds, fans to get air flowing, that sort of thing)

watch flying POV videos

I'm sure there are more things that I could add, but I think that this is all my brain can think of at the moment. feel free to add onto the list if there's anything else that any of you want to add if I missed anything!

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 12: My Heart Is Beating For You Constantly

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twelve of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 9.1K (I got really carried away)

Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+ just in case. References to sex, Implied Sex, Heavy Making Out (not really explicit, but also not real un-detailed…), Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soft Soldier Boy, Angst, Fluff.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

A/N: The song they dance to is "You Call It Madness, But I Call It Love" by Russ Columbo.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

**************************************

1984

You take a sip of wine, leaning over your coffee table to pull another photo from the Rosewood box perched on the edge. It's your birthday, your 65th birthday to be exact, of course one look in the mirror revealed that you barely looked over 30. To some women that might be a welcome thought, but given your current situation it wasn't.

It marked the fourth year since you told Ben that you were unhappy on Payback and as a supe, told him that you wanted a normal life, and four years after you'd let him talk you into staying. But this was the year. You were going to tell him that you were done, that you were moving on and getting out.

Unfortunately the only person you had to convince about letting go was yourself, because leaving meant giving up Ben. And you weren't sure that was something you could do.  You were having a hard time convincing your heart to let go of him or rather the old version of him, that only made it's appearance when it was the two of you. The memories that tied you to Ben were tight and difficult to unravel. You couldn't imagine your life without him, couldn’t see past this moment in your life.

But that's why you had to go. You knew you were in too deep. Fantasizing about a  relationship with someone who would never love you the same way you loved them, hoping in something that would never happen. And you needed to let him go, whether it be the new version of him or the boy you used to know, you needed to let Ben go.

The Rosewood box was filled with photos, old doodles, memories, and objects from your past. Usually it was stored under your bed, but tonight you had dragged it out into the living room to reminisce on your birthday. It was a tradition you started a few years ago as a way of remembering the past. Sometimes it was a welcome distraction from the way things were now and tonight you were letting it be a last supper of sorts, to indulge in the memories Ben and you had shared over the years before you told him that you were leaving.

You had no idea where you were going, but the thought excited you a little bit. Finally striking out on your own for the first time, doing something for yourself for once, it felt right.

Leaving Ben was the only thing that felt wrong. You wanted him to come with you, for him to choose you the way that you chose him that night, but you knew he wouldn't. He liked this life too much to let it go, he thrived in the spotlight, embraced everything about being a supe that you hated, and so you would let him go.

You look down at the strip of paper in your hand. It was a collection of photos from a photo booth, yellowed with age, but lined up one by one from the first baseball game Ben ever took you to, one of your favorite memories from your childhood. You were wearing the ridiculous pinstriped hat and Ben looked as handsome as he always did, smiling wide with his dark hair hanging in his face. It was hard to look at it now, hard to look at Ben and you when you were so young, and you didn't know where your lives were going to go.

Your eyes drift to the velvet case pressed into the corner of the wooden box. You had kept the ring that Howard got you, well, technically you had tried to give it back but he refused, begging you to reconsider.

Sometimes you thought about throwing it away. It was ugly, but it was a reminder. Not a reminder of Howard, you could barely remember what he looked like, but it was a reminder of the night Ben asked you to come with him. You could remember the earnest look in his eyes, how he cupped your face, and the promise he made to you. The future he promised had been filled with so much possibility, but you weren’t sure anymore. You think about the years you'd spent together and how leaving felt like the end of an era.

But it was necessary, breaking away from all of this would be good. Yes you would miss Ben, but you needed to move on. You knew that deep down. Because you wanted something more than all of this, and the night Ben asked you to come with him you thought he could give it to you, but after all these years you understood that he couldn’t and that he didn’t want to.

Someone knocks loudly on your door.

“One second.” You take the last sip of wine before standing and crossing the room to open the door. “Hey what are you doing here?”

Ben is standing in the hallway outside your apartment, looking handsome as always. He's wearing a tailored dark suit with a black tie, his hair is combed back from his face, dark stubble graces his rugged jaw and a wide smile pulls up at the ends of his lips that makes it very hard to focus on anything else. “Happy Birthday Sweetheart.” 

“I’ve had too many birthdays.” You laugh and wave a hand to brush it off. “What are you doing here, I thought you had an interview about the premiere tomorrow?”

Tomorrow night was the premiere of the third and final installment of Anti-Communist films that Ben was currently staring in. The first two had been utterly ridiculous and you knew that the one tomorrow would be just as pointless. Which you knew for a fact, because one day Ben asked you to meet him on set and you saw a scene he was filming, not to mention one time he tried to get you to run lines with him and you told him you'd rather drop dead than read Countess' lines, who took the co-star role when you refused. Ben’s offer of the co-starring role to you had been his way of appeasing you after you told him you were unhappy. When you refused, Countess had been more than willing to slide into it.  Who was still trying her upmost to get into Ben's pants, but he still completely ignored her, which gave you an unmeasurable amount of joy.

“I told them that I couldn’t miss my girl's birthday.” Ben smiles wider. “Plus I’d much rather spend tonight with you than those fucking vultures and I’ve never missed your birthday.”

Instead of the words "my girl" filling you with happiness as they had the first night Ben said it in the dancehall, they only make you frustrated. He had called you that several times over the years you'd been friends and each time it made you more and more angry. You were tired of it. Tired of Ben acting like Ben only when it was the two of you. Tired of Ben acting like he cared and like he wanted to be more than friends only to crush you the next day. Tired that he called you “my girl” and then did nothing that meant more than friends.  You loved him more than you’d loved anyone ever, took care of him, did everything you could for him, and each time when he didn’t acknowledge it, you felt like you weren’t enough. It made you feel like a kid again when you tried your upmost to please your mother only to have her be disappointed in you each time.

“That’s sweet.” Anger and frustration burns in the back of your throat, but you push it down with a tight lipped smile.

“And I got us reservations, so go get dressed.”

"What?"

"I got reservations. Come on." Ben makes a gesture with his hand.

“Oh I’m okay, I was just going to-“ You motion back at the bottle of wine, the couch, and the box of photos.

“No. I’m not going to let you sit here on your birthday. Come on. Let’s go.” Ben takes your arm and turns you around gently pushing you towards the small hallway that leads back to your bedroom with his hand on the small of your back.

You brace yourself for the warmth that follows with the brush of his fingers against you, but each time you're unprepared for how it makes you feel when he touches you.

“But I don’t have anything to wear! And if you do have a reservation, how much time do I have?” You argue, trying to come up with an excuse to avoid dinner.

As much as you wanted to go, you didn't want to sit there and pretend to be happy. You were tired of doing that, but then you raise your head to look Ben in the eye.

He's smiling down at you the same way he always has, looking like the boy who climbed in your window after flunking out of boarding school to bring you paint and your resolve wavers. You hated saying no to him.

Damn it.

“By the time you stop making excuses it will be time to go. And as sexy as those pajamas are, you can’t wear them to a restaurant.” Ben teases, tugging on the bottom oversized paint-splattered shirt you were wearing

“Fine.” You grumble, cheeks flushing bright red as you snatch the shirt from his hand. “Give me ten minutes.”

**************************************

"Shut up." Ben laughs from across the table at you. "Your mother loved me!"

His laughter is contagious, making your own release from your lips and ease the tension you are holding in your chest.

The Italian restaurant is small and filled with the soft lit of music from the band in the corner, the rich aromatic smell of food, and has the calming atmosphere of a intimate bar. When Ben parked out front, you were surprised. He usually liked the restaurants on page 6 where other heroes would be found eating and places where he could be photographed for the news, but this place was different, it was almost, special. And the way Ben was acting was unusual.

He'd walked around the car after he parked and took your hand in his, to lead you down the steps to the front door where a hostess had asked for his name. Ben had used his real name rather than Soldier Boy for a reservation and when you walked out of your bedroom wearing the dress you found at the back of your closet that you had for emergencies, you swore you saw his eyes darken as they trailed across your body making your breath catch in your chest. It was odd. Ben had taken you out for your birthday before, but tonight seemed to be filled with a palpable tension and electricity that you couldn’t place.

Then again, you were probably imagining it like always.

The restaurant was perfect, it made you forget about being a supe and the glamorous lifestyle that Ben indulged in and allowed you to pretend that you were normal. However, while you sat there together, you tried not to think about what you were going to have to tell him eventually, that you were leaving. He would ask for an answer why and you’d try to tell him the same thing you told him four years ago while avoiding screaming “because I love you, you fucking idiot” at the top of your lungs. 

But it was difficult to find a way to tell him, not when he had a soft smile on his face and every few minutes Ben would find some reason to touch you. So you allowed yourself to indulge in this, to have this last wonderful memory together before you have to tell him. And in doing so, you let yourself forget being a supe, forget everything else but Ben and you in this moment.

"Oh sure, you were her favorite." You snort into your wineglass. "She put a crucifix up over my window to keep you out. Every time you went to a new boarding school, she prayed in the living room with a rosary to God begging him to keep you far from me and she cried whenever you came back. Not to mention when you got me thrown out of boarding school she forbade me from seeing you-"

"But you couldn’t stay away." Ben sing-songs with a grin before taking a sip from his glass. "And your roommate was a fucking snitch."

"She was." You smile down at the table. "I also think she was a little jealous." You lean back in your chair, holding the wineglass in your right hand.

"Oh and why is that?" Ben's smirk widens.

"Don't make me say it-" Your eyes roll.

"Oh I want to hear you admit it." He leans towards you across the table, eyes shining with a mischievous glint that makes it suddenly hard to breathe.

“Not going to happen.”  You look around the room to distract yourself with the other couples.

All the tables around you were full of people sharing stories, holding hands, brushing feet under the table and for the first time you weren't jealous of their love. The couple next to you was practically breathing the same air, leaning towards each other with sappy looks in their eyes. You were happy for them, allowed yourself to be filled with compassion at their happiness. You remember what you said to Ben four years ago, about wanting to have someone to come home to, someone who loved you and then remember the night at the dancehall watching the elderly couple dance under the twinkling lights holding each other close and gazing deeply into one another's eyes.

You wanted someone to look at you like that, wanted someone to share you life with. You wanted that so badly, that in this moment you knew that you were making the right decision leaving because you would be closer to getting it, because the man across the table from you might be your best friend and have your heart, but he didn’t want to be more. And as much as it hurt to leave the only man you’d ever loved,  you knew it was the right thing.

Ben taps his index finger on your left hand where it rests on the table between you, drawing your eyes back to his. "Did I lose you Doll?"

"Hmm? No sorry. I was-" You smile at him. "Distracted. What were you asking?"

Ben's gaze shifts to the couple sitting to your right, the one you were watching a second ago, who are holding hands on top of the table. The man says something that makes his date laugh and lean towards him to grasp his other hand. The way he smiles at his date makes you smile. Ben's eyes slide back to yours and an odd look flashes through them that you can't identify.

"You know what I was asking." His index finger begins to brush over your knuckles in a smooth circular motion. Warmth trails with his touch, sending goosebumps dancing up your left arm.

Shock buzzes at the back of your mind, you didn't understand why he was doing that, Ben had barely had anything to drink tonight, in fact that was his first and only Whiskey. Not to mention when he showed up at your door he seemed more sober than usual. He didn't smell like reefer. So for him to touch you this much was unusual, especially when he wasn't drunk or high.

“Come on Sweetheart.” He smiles at you in a way that makes your heart ache.

"Fine. Pearl thought you were devilishly handsome and was upset that I danced with you when I had Howard-"

"Don't mention that pussy." Ben’s smirk drops into a frown and he stops moving his finger against the back of your hand.

"I don't understand why you were so jealous of him." You try not to think about how much you wish he would start moving his finger again.

"I was not jealous of that idiot." Ben rolls his eyes.

"Uh-huh. After all these years, you still can't admit it." You tease him taking another sip of wine. It was giving you a pleasant buzz that made you feel just a little bit warm and bold enough to make you brush your thumb against his where his hand sits only a few millimeters from yours.

If he was touching you, you thought that maybe it would be okay for you to touch him, maybe it was okay to pretend that he wanted to hold your hand as much as you wanted to hold his, like the couple next to you were.

"I will if you admit you were jealous of Missy Callahan." Ben's eyes trail down to your thumb before looking back up at you, waiting for your answer.

"I was not-"

Ben raises an eyebrow. “I can hear your heartbeat Doll.”

“Just as I can hear yours Darling.” You smile back at him.

“Y/n.” He chuckles.

You roll your eyes at his ridiculous smile. "Fine, I will admit that was a little jealous of her, but she was awful.  She was dumb as a rock and she was the most terrible gossip-"

"I knew it." Ben smirks.

You sit there in silence for a minute gazing at Ben, your eyebrow raised. "I'm waiting."

"Oh I'm not going to admit that I was jealous of Howard. I just wanted to hear you say the thing about Missy." Ben laughs, beginning to run his index finger against the back of your hand again. His eyes on yours, as if he's gauging your reaction.

"Bastard." You roll your eyes at him. "Did I tell you that I saw Howard?"

"What?" Ben looks surprised.

"Yeah, when I went to my brother's-" You clear your throat remembering when you saw Howard four years ago. You don’t know why he went to your brother’s funeral, but he was there, gray hair slicked back staring at you open mouthed. The last time you'd seen him was the day after he proposed, when you tried to give him back the ring and he refused, stating that he wanted you to keep it, to think about it. He never got over the break up, never dating anyone else, never married. It had been an awkward reunion, especially since he kept trying to corner you, but you evaded him expertly through the crowd. You weren't interested in making awkward small-talk about the past forty years.

Ben's hand finally slips into yours, intwining your fingers together because he understands what you’re about to say. "I'm sorry I didn't go with you, I should have."

It was weird that Ben wasn’t with you, but it was also weird because you tried to comfort your sister in law and her son and his family, but it felt forced. Ben was the only person who understood what it was like for everyone to age around you while you stayed the same. Standing there to celebrate the life of your brother while you, yourself couldn't die completely or even age felt awkward. You found yourself longing for Ben when you were away, wishing that he was there to hold your hand or try to deflect some of the awkward conversations, none of which were focused on your brother and were all about you being a supe. You hated how much you depended on him.

After the funeral you had stayed in Philadelphia an extra week to help your family and when Ben called to see how you were you broke down on the phone. Ben had showed up within the next hour at your hotel and sat with you while you cried. It was one of your favorite memories, because Ben held you gently against him, whispering "It's okay Sweetheart, I've got you" while you pressed your face into his shirt, letting the smell of whiskey and his cologne soak into your skin. It was so unlike him and it made you believe that Ben wanted more, but then he never acknowledged it, like always.

"Ben it's okay, you were there when it mattered. And you went to both of my parent's funerals. Surprising because my mother would have hated that you were there. Always said you were going to ruin my life." You meant for it to be a joke, but the look in Ben's eyes shifts to something more vulnerable for a millisecond before it hardens again.

"Did I?" He asks quietly. Ben looks down at where he was holding your hand, his thumb beginning to move over the smooth skin on the back.

The question catches you off guard. It was the very question that you had been considering the past few days before you finally decided to leave all of this and your best friend. But the truth was you didn't believe that Ben ruined your life, you blamed yourself, blamed yourself for loving your best friend, blamed yourself for loving someone who didn’t love you the same way.

And it wasn’t that you hated your life, it was different than what you would have planned for yourself, but you liked parts of it. Not to mention you would have hated it more if you had said no to Ben and married Howard. If anything, Ben had saved you and you were thankful for that.

Of course the way he's looking at you and holding your hand is making it difficult for you to consider leaving. It seemed like every time you tried, Ben would do something like this- take you out to dinner or act like he wanted you and only you, and then you would reconsider. Four years ago it had been him holding you after your brother’s funeral and now it was this.

"Ben." You sigh, squeezing his hand and putting as much love into your gaze as you can. "No. You didn't. If anything you freed me. I didn't want to be with Howard and I was too afraid to say it until you asked me to come with you.”

“He could have given you a life though. You said that’s what you wanted.” For a second you think you see Ben’s eyes flick to the couple on your right with his words.

Your mind stutters to a halt in surprise. He remembered what we talked about four years ago? After he almost killed Noir?

“Um-" You clear your throat to recover. "And if you remember that conversation, you should also remember I said I didn’t want that life with Howard.”

“Yes, but you said you wanted to marry someone.” The ends of his lip twitches, but he doesn’t smile. “Still waiting on that wedding invite.” His thumb is stroking long smooth patterns on the back of your hand, making your throat tight and making it impossible to think.

“I’m sure you’ll get it any day now. Legend is happy that I finally said yes.”

“I should have known. Y’all looked pretty cozy at that party two weeks ago.” Ben laughs. “So if you’re engaged to him, does that mean you don’t want your birthday present?”

“I’ve said it once and I’ve said it again, I’m too old for birthdays.”

“Then why did you come out with me?”

“Oh I’m just going to write this off as old friends having dinner. That or a kidnapping. You practically dragged me to the car.”

“Be thankful I let you change.” Ben replies.

“I don’t know, I think I would have really made a statement with my paint splattered shirt and sweatpants."

You’d chosen the dress you were wearing at random. It was a dark green, the same color as Ben’s supe suit, off your right shoulder cinched around your waist and fell elegantly to your ankles. It was one of your favorites, something you believed accentuated your body effortlessly.

"They were something. Though I think that you-" Ben pauses, dropping his eyes to where he's still holding your hand, before looking back up at you. "Um-"

"What?" You smile.

He clears his throat, a soft smile on his face. "I think you look beautiful now too."

Your next words dry up in your mouth, there's not a shred of joking or teasing in Ben's eyes. Ben had said it before, but with a mischievous glint in his eyes, but now there is only sincerity. And it makes your heart jolt out of rhythm.

He said too. That means that he thought I looked beautiful before when I was-

"Thank you." You flush red and squeeze his hand. "I don't think you look too bad yourself, you know, for a old man." You add that last part because you don’t know what to say when he's looking at you like that.

Ben's smile slips into a frown. "You should be nicer to me, I got you a birthday present."

“See, you keep saying that, but I haven’t seen it.”

“I thought you didn’t want it.” The mischievous glint is back in his eye.

“I could be persuaded.” You smirk.

Ben releases your hand and reaches into his coat pocket to pull out a long navy blue velvet box wrapped in a thick silver bow before sliding it across the white tablecloth.

“You get me another paintbrush?” You smirk running a fingertip over the velvet top to examine it while acutely missing the feeling of his hand grasped in yours.

“Something like that.”

“Did you steal it?” You pick up the box and wave it for emphasis, remembering all the times Ben stole little things from the stores that lined Downtown Philadelphia and the box he had hidden under his bed filled with random trinkets.

You never understood why he did that. Ben's family was almost as wealthy as yours and although his father didn't approve of anything Ben was doing, he never cut him off.

“Maybe.” He shrugs and leans on the table towards you, his eyes filled with excitement.

“With how much money they pay you for those ridiculous films you shouldn’t be stealing anything.”

“I’m sure if you sold your artwork instead of shoving it in the closet you’d be just as wealthy as me.”

“Yes, but my grand plan is to have you pay for everything so I can continue to use you and I can’t do that if I’m rich."

“You can use me anytime sweetheart.” Ben winks.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes at him, but can't stop the blush that stains your cheeks at his insinuation.

Everything about tonight felt just like old times, the way he joked with you and the way you couldn't stop smiling, but at the same time, something else nagged at the back of your mind. The handholding was new, as were the compliments and deeper conversation, especially because Ben wasn't drunk or high, and yet he was being gentler than usual, almost soft. And that was something Ben never was, at least not in public.

You tried not to be frustrated with the turn of events and just enjoy the moment, but deep down you wanted to know.

Was Ben doing this because he cared? Or was he doing this because he sensed I was unhappy and that I was leaving and he thought this was the only way to keep me around?

“Come on, open it.”

“Fine.” You smile down at the box and slowly slide off the bow. “Please tell me you have photos of you trying to tie this bow. Preferably while you were wearing your supe suit.”

“I already destroyed the evidence.”

 “Figures.” You sigh. “Would have been a nice birthday present.”

“I think this is better, but given the pace you’re going at I’ll still be sitting here waiting for you to open it at your next birthday.” Ben takes a drink from his glass.

“Which I won’t be celebrating.”

"Oh you're going to. I’ll make sure.” 

You roll your eyes at him, before finally opening the velvet box and your next joke is forgotten as you struggle to catch your breath. You were expecting something art related. Ben always got you brushes, paints, colored pencils, and any other art supply-like gift, because he knew that you liked those things but not tonight. Because for your 65th birthday Ben decided to get you something that took your breath away.

Nestled in black velvet is a pearl necklace, elegant, beautiful, catching in the fluttering warm light of the restaurant as the band in the corner continues to play a jazzy tune that makes you remember the records your father would listen to while he smoked before bedtime.

“Ben-“ You begin to say, but you can’t finish your sentence, you're too surprised to say anything else.

Not once in all the years you’d been friends had Ben bought you jewelry. Shopping for his birthday was harder, his last one you had gotten him a pair of silver cufflinks that he was currently wearing, but each time you bought him something like that it didn't feel like you were revealing too much about how you felt and it never felt like a gift you would give someone who was more than your friend. But now, staring down at the necklace that Ben bought you feels, intimate almost romantic.

“I remembered how upset you were when you lost the one your dad got you.” Ben says slowly, his eyes on you. “I know it’s not the same one, but the lady in the store said it was the most like the ones they made when we were younger and I thought-“ He rubs the back of his neck. “Um- I thought you’d like it.”

You smile, still unable to speak, fighting the happy tears that build behind your eyes. You had lost the necklace your father got you a few months ago and you tore your entire apartment apart to find it. Ben had walked right into the middle of the chaos and found you a sobbing mess.

Your father had bought it for you on your 23rd birthday. It was your first birthday as a supe and your first one away from home. Your father had it delivered to you with a vase of fresh cut lavender, because you couldn’t go home and he couldn’t get away.  It was one of the last things you had from him, besides the antique watch perched on your wrist.

“I can’t believe you remembered that.” You swallow the ball of emotion lodged in your throat.

“I do listen to you.”

You look up and raise an eyebrow.

“Sometimes.” His soft smile makes you feel light headed and makes you wish all over again that you had the courage to tell Ben the three little words that you'd always wanted to.

“I don’t know what to say-“

“Too much? Because I can take it back and buy you a paintbrush-“ Ben starts to reach for the box, but you catch his hand against the table tangling your fingertips together.

“No. It's perfect. Thank you Ben.”

He looks relieved by your answer. “You’re welcome.”

The soft sounds of conversation swell around you mixing with the tinkling of utensils against plates and the music that pours from the band in the corner where a singer dressed in a long red sequined gown sings a familiar song. But you can't stop admiring the necklace nestled in the fabric, your hand still clasped in Ben's on top of the table.

Ben finally breaks the silence. “Do you want me to help you put it on?”

You blink for a minute to comprehend what he was asking, raising your eyes to his genuine smile. "Please.”

Ben stands from his chair and comes around behind you as you gently twist your hair out of the way, so he has access to your neck. His rough fingertips brush against the smooth skin of your neck sending a shiver down your spine that you hope Ben misses because how would you explain that? When he secures it at the back of your neck you look down at the pearls, holding them between your thumb and forefinger.

"They're beautiful." You whisper, before looking back up at him.

"Yes, beautiful." He responds, but Ben isn't looking at your necklace, his eyes are locked on your face.

What is going on?

"Ben-" You begin to say, attempting for the first time to ask him why he does this, acts different around you, gives you hope and then takes it all away, but he interrupts you.

"Come on." His hand falls on yours and he pulls you up out of your chair, weaving through the other tables to stand in front of the band in the corner. His right hand finds the small of your back, while his left gently holds your right in the air.

"What are you doing?" You ask.

"Isn't it obvious?" Ben smiles. "We're dancing."

"No one else is dancing." You look around the room at the couples sitting quietly together enjoying their meals, who have begun to watch Ben and you sway to the music.

He leans forward to whisper into the curve of your ear. "Then let's show them how it's done Sweetheart."

You can't help but laugh at him, enjoying the way that he feels pressed against you, how it makes you feel alive in the best way, how you feel safe in his arms. Being here, swaying to the last few notes of the song with him made you reconsider leaving again. Ben was the only person who knew you completely, inside and out, the only person who seemed to understand you. Choosing to leave him would be like choosing to leave home, because after everything you'd been through, Ben was home.

As soon as the song ends, the one that follows is familiar, a tune that sparks a memory at the back of your mind. You raise your eyes to Ben's. His are crinkled with his smile, a mischievous glint behind them.

"Ben, did you tell them to play-"

"Yeah. I told them to play our song." He whispers, holding you tighter against him.

The memory of the night you first danced warms against your skin. You remembered it well. It was the night that you almost told him you loved him, the same thing you were considering right now. You couldn't believe that he remembered the song you danced to. You smile at the memory of that night, when Ben punched Howard in the face and it gave you a sickening amount of joy.

“What are you smiling at?” Ben asks you.

“I still can’t believe you hit him.” You shake your head with a laugh.

"He hurt you. And I didn't like that he made me stop dancing with my girl."

You sigh before you can stop yourself the phrase immediately making the laughter dissipate and making the warm feeling at his touch fade. Tonight Ben was again making you think that he wanted to be more, and worst of all it was making it harder to leave. Because what if this was him trying to tell you the only way he knew how? What if this was him finally admitting that he loved you and you just left?

"What?” He frowns down at you.

“I don’t know why you keep calling me that.”

"What?"

"Your 'girl'." You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the frustration from making you say more.

 “You don't think you are?"

“What do you think it means? To me it means being in a relationship with someone. We have been friends for over fifty years and you have never once said that you wanted to be more-"

"I did try to propose.” Ben jokes, not understanding that you’re upset.

"Really? That was your proposal?" You scoff rolling your eyes. "A joke while you were sitting on my shitty couch drunk off your ass while trying to apologize for almost killing Noir and telling me that you hate when I get in your way?  Forgive me for imagining some big gesture and for not swooning."

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Oh please-“

“I’m fucking serious.” He shrugs.

“What?” You look him in the eye to look for the teasing glint, but it's not there, Ben looks serious.

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.” Ben’s eyes lock with yours. “I also didn’t apologize for almost killing him. And I do hate when you get in my way." 

"Yes, I figured that given how angry you looked." You roll your eyes, glancing to look at the couples around you again, but this time the happiness you felt for them is gone. The jealousy is back coupled with the frustration of Ben acting like Ben and then pulling a complete 180 the next day and making you question everything. Because you wanted to exist in the moments that he was still Ben and you didn’t want to leave him, but you did want to leave Soldier Boy. The problem was right now all you saw was Ben and you hated that you couldn’t enjoy it because you knew it would end. Someone would piss him off or he’d get drunk or high or go down the rabbit hole with some other woman and Ben would be gone.

You didn’t understand how he could go from hot to cold so quickly.

“But I didn’t lie when I said I’d never hurt you.” Ben's voice rumbles up through where his chest is pressed against yours.

You want to say that you believe him, but after the past forty years you weren’t sure anymore. And that thought hurt more than anything else. You didn’t know your best friend anymore, and it scared you.

Your eyes are leveled on Ben’s chest, by now he’s stopped swaying you to the music. You know what will happen when you look up into his eyes, he'll make a joke or say something like the last forty years never happened and you'll crumble like always. You can feel his breath against your face, the warmth of his body transferring through his chest and soaking into yours.

“Y/n, please look at me.” He releases your hand and cups your cheek to tilt you head upwards to him. The one still planted on your back slides down to your waist, tightening around you as you lock eyes with him. “You know that I’d never hurt you. Right?”

Ben's eyes lock on yours, the love and care reflected in the irises makes your body burn. He's never looked at you like that, looked at you like you were the only woman in the world and deep down it makes you want to pull him close and whisper the three little words you've wanted to say for fifty seven years.

You focus on Ben's words to shake it off, it was the same thing he’d said four years ago, but this time the air between you is charged with electricity.

And you can’t take it anymore.

“Why?” You whisper.

It catches him off guard. “What?”

“Why are you different with me? When the cameras stop rolling, when the team goes home, when it’s just the two of us, you’re different." You stop to catch your breath.  "Ben, I’ve known you for fifty seven years. And in the last forty you’ve changed. But not around me, not when it’s just the two of us. You show up at my apartment in the middle of the night, we talk, we laugh about the past, you sleep in my bed, you call me 'your girl'-”

“You’ve known me longer than anyone else-” His hand is still cupping your cheek now, thumb gently brushing against the smooth skin making your throat tight.

“But even before all this, when we were still in Philadelphia. You were always around me, showing up, taking me out to do things in the city. Ben, we both know how you are. I watched you chase after whatever caught your eye and even now-“ You shake your head frustrated. “But you never act that way with me.”

Ben is quiet for a minute, his eyes searching yours, soft green in the fluttering lights above your heads. “Because you’re different y/n. You’ve always been different.”

“But that doesn’t tell me why Ben. We’ve been doing this for so long and I want-“ You sigh frustrated with yourself because you can’t say it, can’t say that you want him. “I mean I’m not sure if I can-“ You were going to say that you weren’t sure you could do this anymore, that you wished he would let you go, wished that you could walk away, and wished that he would stop giving you hope that the two of you could be something more because you couldn’t do it.

But the words are stopped when his lips meet yours.

You inhale sharply in surprise, before your entire body melts against his, deepening the kiss as you drag your hands up into his dark hair, while your mind goes blissfully blank. Ben’s mouth is firm but tender against yours, moving in a slow dance that makes warm tingles trail down your spine. The hand that was on your cheek, joins the other on your waist. His hand tightens on your hip as your song continues to play while the other presses against the small of your back to secure you against him. The solidness of his chest is familiar, molding against your curves in the best way as if he was made for you and you were made for him. You feel his thumb begin to circle slowly against the fabric on your hipbone and suddenly you remember the night he helped you loosen your corset and all you wanted was him. You never thought it would feel like this.

When you finally pull away for air, Ben doesn’t let you go far, he leans his forehead against yours, the look in his eyes is surprisingly vulnerable, as if he thinks you’re going to push him away.

“I-“ He begins, his green eyes are wide almost afraid.

Why?

You raise your hands to gently cup his strong jaw, searching his eyes with a smile to confirm you aren't going anywhere, before pulling him back to you for another kiss that makes your toes curl in the tight shoes you forced them into an hour ago. Ben sighs into your mouth, a soft sound that surprises you. You had seen him kiss other people before. Ben was anything but gentle, but now you believed that he reserved that gentleness just for you and it made you feel like you were going to melt into a puddle.

When you pull back again, Ben’s forehead is still against yours, his eyes bright and unmoving from your face. For a moment neither of you speaks, too afraid to break the silence.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours Sweetheart?” Ben asks, the deep rumble of his voice working up through where your chest is pressed against his. His expression is gentle, and he brings up one of the hands that was on your waist to trace the pillow of your lips with his thumb.

And before you lose your nerve your smile curves into a smirk.  “Took you long enough Benjamin.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes at you.

“Make me.” You mutter against his thumb.

And then he’s kissing you again, moving his lips in tandem with yours while your heart flutters and dances. And you never want it to end, because he's kissing you like he never wants to let you go and you're kissing him like you don't want him to.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Ben mutters against your lips with a smile, his deep eyes catching yours. "Don't be jealous of Missy Callahan. She's nothing compared to you, never has been, never will be."

Your heart warms, cheeks blushing with his words, because even after all these years, Ben still knew exactly what to say. You hold his face reverently, admiring the familiar dips and curves, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. "Don't be jealous of Howard. He meant nothing to me. No one means as much to me as you do Ben."  You whisper back before you kiss him and allow yourself to fall again, hoping that this time he’ll catch you.

*************************************

“Did you want something to drink?” You ask Ben, gesturing with your free hand towards the kitchen.

Standing in your apartment feels different post kiss. It feels like this all represents something bigger now. The apartment, him coming upstairs even though he has spent most of the nights here since you bought it and of course the way he’s looking at you, how he’s been unable to stop looking at you since he kissed you.

“Are you going to get it for me?” Ben is still holding your hand, had held it the entire car ride, only releasing it when he got out to open the door for you and then took it again as you walked up to your apartment. His thumb is moving across the back in a soothing motion that makes you want to curl up in the warmth that trails behind like a cat in the sun.

“I’m sure you remember where it is”

“Mhmm.” Ben is eyeing you again, the green in his eyes darkening in a way that makes your throat tight.

You’re not sure who moves first, all you know is that someone closes the distance between you, and you lose yourself in him. Your curves melt against the hard muscles of Ben’s chest and arms as he pulls you into him, his hands  gripping your waist so tight that you know there might be bruises but you don’t care.

Your hands trail up his muscular chest to tangle in his hair, pulling at the darkened strands and forcing his mouth harder against yours.

He tastes like whiskey and smoke, night and day, and all those bittersweet moments you’ve shared over the years you’ve known him. There is no semblance of Soldier Boy left behind, it’s just Ben and you and it's everything you wanted for so long. The kiss is charged with so much emotion and tension you feel something inside you snap and warmth floods your body in its wake. Ben moans into your mouth, his hands coming down to sweep low over your curves and ignites a fire in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never felt before.

There had been others try to do exactly this. Other heroes you politely declined because you didn’t feel anything for them. You remember the kisses with Howard, passionless, boring, but being here with Ben was like nothing you’d ever imagined. The subtle scratch of his scruff against your cheeks makes you lose all feeling in your legs, his strong embrace makes goosebumps burn against your skin, and the sounds he’s making against your lips makes your heart seize in your chest.

He backs you up and you both fall on the couch in a tangle of limbs, his body caging you beneath him while his fingertips boldly trail against your body, finding places that make you moan into his mouth.

You can feel his smirk against your lips and you’ve never felt more sexy in your life. Ben’s moans against every piece of skin he can get his lips against make you blush crimson and echo his cries with soft sounds that make him grip you tighter. His hands are everywhere, coaxing along your curves, discovering places that you didn’t know could be sensitive and that make you gasp and arch against him as he continues to kiss you.

Everything about this feels right, feels perfect, as if you were both made for this exact moment. The subtle drag of his hands against you, the firm assertive way he holds you beneath him, how your body responds to his touch, and the way your heart continues to swell in your chest, frantically beating as if it wishes to break free. You forget about all the other women he's ever been with, all the others he's probably held close, nothing else exists at this moment, nothing else exists except him and you here on this couch. His lips ghost to your neck as he sucks a mark into the column of your throat and you realize he's saying your name over and over the way that no one ever has.

There’s a loud ripping noise and you understand that Ben ripped off the bottom half of your dress, the tattered remains just barely brushing against your thighs. But you can’t be angry with him for that, not when everything he’s doing feels perfect.

Ben’s hands slowly begin to push up the bottom of your now ruined dress and you come back down from your high, feeling the gentle press of his fingers against your thigh as they begin to move upwards.

“Ben-" You breathe.

You hate how breathy your voice sounds, but the new sensations running through your body are almost too overwhelming for you to gain control of. If you weren't both as indestructible as you were you would be afraid of the possibility of killing Ben.

He moans into your neck, working his hand up further to a place that makes your grip his shoulders tight and you leave bruises of your own, because you’re the only person strong enough to bruise him, to leave marks against his almost invulnerable skin. And it makes a shudder go down his spine.

"Ben wait-"

He stops, looking down at you with wide eyes, pupils dilated in a way that almost sends you back into a frenzy with him. "What's wrong?" He is also out of breath, chest rising and falling fast. You can hear his heart beat thundering in his chest, beating in tandem with yours.

“Before we do this I just want to tell you that I’ve never-" You bite your lip nervously. "I've never done this before.”

“This?” He looks confused, withdrawing his hand from under your ruined dress.

“Well- you know." You gesture between the two of you. "This.”

"You've never had sex with anyone before?"

"No." You flush bright red wondering if that's a deal breaker for him. If he wanted someone more experienced. "I’m sorry."

He sits there for a minute, staring down at you. "Why are you apologizing?” Ben’s hand brushes your hair away from your face in a gentle gesture, so different than the heavy caresses of his hands against your curves he did earlier.

“I don’t know.” You whisper embarrassed. “I just- everyone else has and I’m pretty sure you have with millions of people.”

“Well not millions.”

“But still.” You suddenly think that this was a giant mistake, that you should just go to your room in shame. You drop your eyes to his chest embarrassed.

His hands are stroking along your waist, toying with the frayed edges of your dress. “Y/n.” He whispers.

“What?” You mumble.

Ben raises his hand to cup your cheek, turning your gaze back on him. The way he’s looking at you causes a hot jolt of energy to race down your spine and makes you wish that you were more confident or knew what you were doing.

 He’d been with hundreds of women all kinds of women and what had I been doing all these years? Nothing and no one. I’m not really sure if I understood the mechanics OF sex- but oh how I wished. My head was just getting in the way of everything else as usual.

“I will admit that I have slept with a lot of women.” Ben sighs. “But it’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to-“

“I want to.”

 “Are you sure? I don’t know if I’m the best person for this-“ And for a moment you think he looks almost worried.

Why would he think that?

“I’m sure. I want it to be you. I’ve always wanted it to be you.” You breathe, running your hands through his hair, your cheeks flushing bright red with your confession, afraid that you’re saying too much, giving too much away as to how much he means to you.

“Really?” Ben smiles in a way that makes your breath catch.

You nod.

“I can’t promise it won’t hurt.” The darkness in his eyes shifts to something else and for a moment it’s difficult for you to form a sentence. He leans his forehead against yours, searching your eyes.  “I don’t want to hurt you.” Ben whispers it like a secret.

“You’re not going to hurt me. I trust you Ben.” You whisper, knotting you hands in his hair.

“You do?”

You nod your head. “And I’m pretty sure that I’m just as capable of hurting you-“

“Maybe.” The look in his eyes is back, blazing through his green irises in a way that makes your throat swell closed. He bends over to whisper against the curve of your ear. “Then again, I kinda like that Sweetheart.” His lips brush just behind your right ear, making a shiver go down your spine. Ben smiles at your reaction before he dips down to kiss you, but it’s different, the kiss is soft, trusting, and not the previous manic haze of desire it was previously. “ I know you think it’s a big deal, but I like that I’m your first. Because it means that no other man has touched you, made you feel any of the things that I’m going to do to you, and that I’ll never have to share you with anyone else.” His grip on your waist tightens possessively. “That you’ll be completely and utterly mine and no one else can do a damn thing.”

You inhale and try not to faint from the darkened look in his eyes. “Well when you put it that way-“

“Come on.” Ben stands from the couch.

Before you can get up to follow he picks you up like you weigh nothing causing you to automatically wrap your thighs around his waist as he kisses you feverishly again, wiping your mind of anything and everything but him.

“What are you doing?” You breathe, entangling your hands at the nape of his neck to secure yourself.

“I’m not going to let your first time be on some shitty couch.” He mutters against your lips while adjusting his grip under your legs

And with that he takes you down the hall and kicks your bedroom door closed behind you.

********************************************

A/N: Well it finally happened. Unfortunately this is also when all hell breaks loose…

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know :)

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[whatswrongwithblue]

Girl Talk

Part 6 of my Imagines with Angel Dust. My silly little plot-less series about you, some comical conversation with your bestie Angel Dust, and some delicious smut with you and Alastor.

“Ugghh, this is stupid,” you mumbled to yourself as you stared at the blank piece of paper in front of you.

Charlie’s ‘little fun idea of the day’ was to make everyone write a list of five things they did while they were alive that they wished to apologize for. Not only did you find it a massive intrusion of your privacy but you were honestly struggling to come up with anything substantial. Didn’t Charlie realize this was why you were in Hell? And you weren’t here for redemption, you were only here because Alastor had batted his pretty eyelashes at you when he showed up at your doorstep after having disappeared for seven fucking years and asked you to move in with him here. At least, that was the very shortened and abbreviated story you told the other residents.

Were you sorry for the pig-headed men you had murdered while you were alive? No. They deserved it.

Were you sorry for stealing and then pawning jewelry from the wives of the men you had seduced? Nope. You needed the money.

Were you sorry for using and dealing drugs? Not a chance. They were an escape and again . . . money.

And, besides the murder, you hadn’t had to resort to any of those things now that you were in Hell. Charlie just didn’t understand how hard some of you had had it while alive and a lot of your sins were just survival tactics. You refused to apologize for any of it. Not to her and not to God himself.

Well, there was one small thing that came to mind. You sighed and put your pen to paper.

#1. I am sorry that after I caught my older sister sucking my boyfriend’s dick that I snuck into her bathroom and sprayed vinegar on all of her tampons and rubbed cayenne pepper into her favorite red eyeshadow.

#2. And I’m sorry that I spread that rumor about my then ex-boyfriend that he couldn’t get it up for me unless he looked at pictures of his step-father while we did it. In retrospect, I should have just punched them in their stupid cheating faces and been done with it.

But after writing those two things down, you just went back to staring at the paper for several more minutes.

Eventually, Angel came into the room and plopped down next to you, resting his head against the back of his sofa with one arm flung dramatically over his eyes.

“Ugghhh, this is stupid,” he lamented.

“My thoughts exactly. What have you got so far?” you asked, peering over at his paper.

He lifted up a blank sheet. Blank, except for a few explicit doodles around the margins.

“Fucking nada,” he sighed. Then quietly, “I love Charlie but . . . she just doesn’t get it.”

You looked over at your friend, sympathetically. He had spent all day yesterday at work, doing a 16 hour shift, then had to spend his one day off this week doing this. At least you didn’t have to work and at least you had Alastor. Angel, you knew, was terribly lonely and sad underneath his flirty exuberant façade.

Not being the kind of person to outright show compassion or kindness, you decided to cheer Angel up in another way.

“Hey, what do you call a 6.9?”

Angel lifted his head and blinked at you.

“Come again?”

“What,” you repeated, more slowly and enunciated this time, “doooooo you call a 6 point 9?”

“I don’t know, what?” he asked, shrugging with disinterest.

“A good thing ruined by a period.”

A small smile cracked across Angel’s face as he registered the dirty joke and he sat up a little further, suddenly interested.

“What do you call a lesbian with braces?” he asked.

“Oh, oh wait, I know this one!” you said, putting a finger to your chin as you tried to recall the punch line. After a moment, it came to you. “A box cutter!”

“Okay, how about this one,” he continued. “Why do you never have to worry about getting pregnant when sleeping with a vampire?”

“Why?”

“Because they have to be invited to cum inside.”

You cackled, smiling eagerly as you thought up your next joke.

“Jesus, a lawyer, and a priest are on a sinking ship. Jesus stands up and says ‘Save the children!’ The lawyer stands up and says ‘Fuck the children!’ The priest gets up and asks, ‘Do you think we have time?’”

Angel bent over laughing, wrapping two arms around his torso and holding a third to the side of his head as he fought to catch his breath.

“Good one. Okay, okay,” he wheezed, “I got another one for ya. What did the leper say to the prostitute?”

“What?”

“Keep the tip.”

You both fell into another fit of giggles.

“I don’t believe this is what our dear Charlie had in mind for today’s activities,” Alastor’s voice said from behind you and you both turned in sync to find him smiling down at the two of you. “Though I think the creativity can be appreciated.”

“Do you always gotta do that? Fucking sneaking up on people, it’s not cool man,” Angel said, frowning.

Alastor just smiled more broadly, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes, as the sound of static momentarily filled the air.

You, as usual, did not let Alastor’s weirdness sour your mood. Instead, you just beamed up at him, unashamed and happy to see him.

“I need some fresh air,” Alastor said, turning his gaze onto you. “Today is rather tedious and boring. Care to join me for a walk?”

“Babe, it’s way too hot outside.”

“Of course it is! It’s Hell, my dear!” Alastor said with a chuckle.

“It’s 125 degrees,” you deadpanned.

“Oh please,” he said with a flamboyant flick of his wrist, “I’ve never been one to let a little sun stop me from enjoying my day.” And with a bit of a huff, he began walking towards the front doors, his shoulders rigid and microphone held behind him.

You rolled your eyes. You loved him but God damn, he was sensitive when you denied him anything. And you knew he was looking for just as much of an excuse to get away from Charlie’s activity as the rest of you were. If that meant strutting around Pentagram City in his full suit and pretending the sweltering heat had no affect on him for some kind of presentation of his power, all the better. But you were going to sit in here like a sane person and enjoy the air conditioning.

“Oh, and by the way, darling,” Alastor said, stopping in the entryway after opening the door. “You wouldn’t happen to know the difference between a vitamin and a hormone, would you?”

You just scowled at him and his sugary-sweet tone. It always meant he was up to something.

“You can hear a whore moan,” he said and shut the door behind him.

You laughed a little through your nose and smiled, shaking your head. To this day, sometimes even you were surprised by the things that came out of his mouth.

Then you turned and looked over at Angel, who was staring a bit wide-eyed at the direction Alastor had exited.

“I don’t get it,” he said and you looked at him quizzically. “Is he bi or something?”

“What?” you asked, totally thrown off by his question.

“Oh please,” Angel said, imitating Alastor’s tone and the flick of his wrist remarkably well. “I’m just saying, that’s some gay shit for someone who’s supposedly straight.”

You grinned a cheshire smile before taking on an air of indifference.

“Oh that?” You made the same wave and flick of your hand. “He’s not straight.”

Angel sat up and leaned towards you faster than you had ever seen him. You bit your lip to keep from smiling, enjoying this new way of toying with him.

“So he is bi. Oh my fucking God, that is . . . I knew it! I fucking knew it!”

He seemed so excited and you let him sit with that happiness for a minute before you tore it all down.

“No. He’s not.”

Angel stared so intently at you that it would have made you uncomfortable if you weren’t so amused. You could almost see the mathematical equations in his thought bubble as he tried to work out what you had just said.

“Is this the biggest plot twist of the century?”

“Hmmm?”

“Did you just tell me he’s gay!!??” Angel practically screamed. “But I thought you . . . you two . . . are you not . . .”

You busted up laughing.

“Oh my God, you are practically short circuiting right now, you should see your face!” you said through your laughter.

Angel just continued staring at you.

“Angel,” you said, putting a hand on his arm. “I thought you were the greatest sexual detective ever. That you could read all my dirty secrets just from the way I blushed? And you’re now questioning if Alastor and I are a couple?”

“Well, yeah but . . . you said . . . and that means . . . I’m so confused!” he said, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat.

“Oh, calm down,” you said. “Yes, we have sex. We fuck like animals and make sweet, sensual love and everything in between. Quite regularly, too,” you said the last part with a bit of pride.

Angel looked unamused. “So if he’s not straight, and not gay, and he’s not bi, then what the fuck label does he use?” You opened your mouth to answer and he held up a finger, halting you. “And I swear, if you say something stupid like ‘pansexual’ or some other nuanced version of bi just to fuck with me, I’ll never be your friend again.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting a second to see if he would interrupt you again, before smiling broader and finally giving him your answer.

“He’s asexual.”

Angel gave you the blankest stare ever before picking up his phone.

“Hold on a sec,” he said, raising his finger at you again. “I’m looking this shit up.”

You allowed him this as he typed in his question into the search bar of his phone screen and he read whatever the internet was telling him.

“NO HE’S NOT!” Angel shouted, still looking at his phone. “It’s not even a real thing!”

Offended, you grabbed his phone out of his hand to read whatever answer he had found in his Googling.

You read out loud the ridiculous definition he had pulled up.

“’Asexual is a label invented by women who are perpetually tired of being pile-drived by their husbands’ unremarkable dicks and have overused the excuse that they have a headache.’” You sighed, raising an eyebrow at your friend. “Angel, maybe next time, use a different search engine than Pride Ring’s Dictionary. Of course it’s all going to be smartass answers like this.”

Angel snatched his phone back.

“Hey, I find them to be refreshingly honest.”

“That is not honesty, that’s mockery,” you defended. “Asexuality is valid. And so is aromanticism. Alastor is on both of those spectrums. Trust me, it made actually starting a relationship a long and complicated process . . . but it was worth it in the end.”

Angel saw the love-sick look in your eyes and rolled his eyes. “Gross,” he mumbled and kept scrolling through his phone, clearly looking at other sources for definitions.

“So you’re telling me,” Angel said, after a few more minutes of his ‘research,’ “That you are the sole proprietor of all his desires? The only person he finds sexually attractive and the only person he would pursue a relationship with? All because of your guys’s ‘deep emotional connection that you fostered over time.’”  

He was clearly reading a direct quote from something and said the last part with such a mocking tone that you were starting to get pissed off.

“Put frankly and simply, yes,” you answered, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Just sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me,” Angel mumbled. “And it doesn’t explain his gay-ass personality.”

You snorted. “You don’t have to fuck to be fab.”

“But you do fuck . . . or so you say,” Angel retorted.

“What can I say, she’s just that good.”

You and Angel both turned to find Alastor standing in the foyer again, looking more annoyed than when he’d left.

“See, this is what I was saying the other day,” Angel said, gesturing towards Alastor but looking at you. “Total voyeur vibes. Always spyin’ on people.”

You ignored Angel and turned a teasing grin over at Alastor.

“Back so soon?”

Alastor glanced down at himself and fiddled with the ends of his coat sleeves before striding towards you.

“As it turns out, Pentagram City is entirely too irritating today.”

“So it’s too hot out there?”

“Shouldn’t you be packing?” he countered, ignoring your jibe.

“It’s one night Al’, it’ll take me five minutes to pack.”

Now it was Alastor’s turn to roll his eyes. “You say that every time. And every time,” he sang, and tapped you on your nose, “I end up having to wait on you.”

“Where you two going?” Angel asked.

“Just a little getaway,” Alastor answered.

“For our anniversary,” you clarified as you stood from your place on the couch and walked around it to join Alastor at his side.

Angel frowned. “Anniversary?” he puzzled. “Of your first date or . . .” his eyes darted down to each of your left hands, noting the absence of rings there. “You guys aren’t married, so . . . wait. You guys aren’t married . . . right?”

“Should we tell him?” Alastor asked you, looking down at you with a playful gleam in his eyes as he wrapped an arm around your hips.

“Nah, let him squirm for a few days,” you said and followed Alastor towards the stairs, Charlie’s project for you completely forgotten on the table behind you.

“Wait a sec . . . HUSK!” you heard Angel yell below you at the demon who was at his permanent position manning the bar. “ARE THOSE TWO MARRIED OR NOT?”

“WHO THE FUCK KNOWS!” came the dismissive reply.

You and Alastor just laughed together, enjoying this new game you had incidentally created.

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