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twola · 26 days

Note

may i request some slow and lazy spooning sex with high honor arthur? with some thorough aftercare at the end?😳

The first vestiges of the dawn creep through the canvas of the tent, the red-purple light from the east spills across a small hole in the fabric. You blink yourself awake, clutching at the old quilt that covers you.

Stretching in the cot, you realize quickly that though the morning chill rolls inside the flimsy walls of the tent, you are warm.

Incredibly warm. Warm and secure and, lord, it’s wonderful. A heavy arm slung over your waist keeps you grounded as you are unable to stifle a small sound as you arch your back slightly.

“Mornin’ there, sweetheart.”

You smile, the arm round your waist tightening as his voice is still hoarse with sleep.

“When did’ya get back?”

His lips press against your neck as he draws you impossibly close, so that all of you is plastered against all of him.

“Late. You were dead to the world when I got back, darlin’.”

“Well why didn’t you wake me up?” You pout softly, threading your fingers through his against your belly.

“Ain’t no reason to wake you up. ‘Sides, you’re a veritable Sleepin’ Beauty there.”

You cannot help but to smile, drawing his hand to your lips and kissing his knuckles. You settle it against your chest, fingers still intertwined.

“You know how much I like you crawling into bed with me,” you laugh softly; and you can feel the chuckle in his chest

“I do. But I think you like wakin’ up like this too.”

Your hand reaches backward to card your fingers through his hair as he kisses at your earlobe, drawing the hemline of your chemise up to bare your rear and hips to him. He groans quietly when he finds that you did not wear bloomers to sleep in.

Sliding his hands between your thighs, your neck arches back into him as you open your legs, letting him softly touch the parts of you only he gets to see.

“Arthur…” you sigh, bliss obvious with how breathy your voice has become.

Underneath that old quilt, his hand works blasphemous miracles, making you swear on the Lord’s name as his fingers dance across your most intimate skin. After moments that leave you whining, knuckles white from gripping the side of the cot, he withdraws, and you want to cry out loud from the loss of his hand.

Arthur tilts your head toward him and leans over you, pressing his lips against yours in a smothering kiss.

With his other hand, he deftly unbuttons his union suit and draws out his cock, pumping it several times under that quilt as his tongue plays with yours.

With a light push, he turns you fully back on your side as he grasps your hip, burying his face in your unbound hair as he presses the head of his cock through the rim of your cunt. Your hand flies to grasp the side of the cot again as you squeeze your eyes shut, biting your lip. Taking your lover is always a stretch, the girth of him pushing into your body burns for that first moment.

But he is gentle. For a man so practiced in violence and force, when he splits you with his flesh, he coos sweet nothings in your ear, rubs at your hip, kisses up and down your neck. Praises you, his love, with all the sweetness of a man smitten and drowning in affection.

By the time he is fully sheathed, his hand leaves your hip to draw your hair back so that he can press his cheek against your temple, looming over you with his much bigger frame. Arthur rocks his hips once, experimentally, within the confines of his cot, and you let out a breath raggedly as the column of him withdraws and fills you again.

In the solitude and quiet of the morning, the chill creeping in from outside, under the blankets he gently thrusts his hips into yours, cocooning the warmth of your bodies together as you lay side by side in the cot.

“One of these days, “ he rumbles, whispering in your ear as he moves against you, “I’m gonna stay, I’m gonna fill you ‘nd god, you’re gonna be so perfect all swollen up with my child.”

You mewl, unconsciously clenching down on him, making him gasp raggedly as he slows down. Breathing out harshly through his nose, he grits out his response, “Ain’t gonna last if you do that.”

“Ar-Arthur- god, y’ cant just say that-”

With a barely concealed groan, he thrusts himself into you hard before retracting his hips in the nick of time, his spend splattering hot on your ass as he pants in your ear. You shudder, your cunt drenching as you come also, wishing desperately that he could have stayed where he was.

Your fingers remain tightly wound against each other as you come down, he pants into the back of your neck for several moments before slowly unwrapping his hand from yours and and leaning the other direction, extricating himself from you to get up from the cot and grabbing his black neckerchief from the small table against the side of the tent.

He returns and wipes his spend gently from your skin, pulling you to lay down on your back as he dips the cloth between your legs, your slick smeared between your thighs that he quietly cleans from you. Arthur smiles fondly down at you as he draws his hand away, tossing the neckerchief in a pile of dirty clothes next to his shaving stand.

With one knee on the cot, he leans over you to press his lips against yours for a quick kiss, but you pout and throw your arms around his neck, trying to pull him down back to the cot. The idea of you pulling him down was laughable, but you try nonetheless.

“Lay with me.”

Arthur frowns, “I should really get the day goin’…”

“Please.” You whine, tugging at the neckline of his union suit, and his frown melts away as he chuckles softly, moving to lay down next to you once again. You nearly squeal in delight, scooting in the cot to give him room. You turn to lay on your side, facing him, as he does the same. Throwing your leg over his hip, you once again thread your fingers through his hair as you pull his lips to yours once again.

As the morning light invades the tent, it finds the two of you there, wrapped up in each other, staving off the day for at least one more moment.

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption #twolafic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic

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hyuburt · 1 year

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I think Fantasy High would look good animated in the total drama style since they’re both chalk full of chaotic sweaty teenage energy. Here are the bad kids on their first day of school

[ID: Two images of the same lineup of characters, with the top one being the colored version and the lower one being the line art. They depict the six main characters from D20′s Fantasy High from tallest to smallest; Gorgug, Fabian, Kristen, Adaine, Fig, and Riz. They are all drawn and colored mostly in line with canon, with some slight variations to accommodate the total drama style. Gorgug’s eyes were stylized into two white dots with slight bags underneath, and he is standing upright with his hands nervously brought up to his chest with a slightly timid expression on his face. His hoodie is a slightly de-saturated purple with grey sweatpants and purple sneakers. He has dark green skin and black wavy hair that falls above one eye. His wobbly, down-turned mouth has a tusk poking out of the higher side (he normally has two, it’s just the way his expression was drawn made it so only one was visible.) His face shape and nose are rounded to give him a softer appearance and there are two little lines indicating the beginning of teenage stubble on his chin. Next to him on the right is Fabian, who stands with his arms crossed and his head turned haughtily to the right, a smug expression on his face. He is wearing his red owlbear jacket with white sleeves, greyish brown loose workout pants, a black undershirt, and red sneakers. He has brown skin and swept back white hair that is shaved on the sides. His nose slopes downwards and he has two eyelashes under both eyes to denote that he is a fancy, pretty boy. He is drawn with a strong, square jawline and a build that is both muscular yet nimble.To his right is Kristen who has a stocky, more rounded build and is wearing a rainbow tie dye shirt with a simplified corn logo in the center, denim shorts, green flip flops, and a rainbow bracelet. She has curly orange hair that curls around her round face, light tan skin with freckles, bushy orange eyebrows, an upturned nose, and dark green eyes that are upturned in a smile. To her right is Adaine, who is slouched slightly with her arms crossed and an unhappy expression on her face as she looks off to the ground. She is wearing blue circular glasses over her round blue eyes, her blue two-piece hudol uniform, knee-high grey socks, and black mary jane shoes. She has light brown skin and short, straight blonde hair swept back from the front of her face in a widow’s peak. She has a small, pointy nose and a circular face with a small pointy chin. Above her is a version of her face without her glasses. To her right is Fig, who is standing proudly with one hand on her hip and the other in a finger gun. She has light reddish skin and brown hair in a braid that has a bright purple streak in her bands and at the end of her braid like it was dipped in paint. She has a long, pointy face and a slightly hooked nose. Her eyes are a dark pomegranate color and slightly upturned. She is wearing purple lipstick, a short leather jacket with a cropped grey shirt underneath it that has a picture of a horned skull on it, a black choker, fingerless gloves on both hands, a plaid skirt and belt with black leggings underneath, dark brown boots, and a single fishnet coming up to her calf on her right leg. To her right is Riz, who is holding a magnifying glass up to his face with one eye squinted to see through it and his other hand on his hip. A single fang peeks through the corner of his small smile. He has a green tail that swishes in front of him. He is wearing his signature brown cap and two piece suit with mauve pants, vest, and tie. His skin is light green with freckles under his eyes, his eyes are light greenish-yellow with slits for pupils, and his hair is dark green and swept back under his cap. Above him is a version of his head without his cap, showing that his hair is swept back from the front and curls away from his face, giving him a windswept appearance.]

#my art #d20 #dimension 20 #fantasy high #gorgug thistlespring #fabian seacaster #kristen applebees #adaine abernant #fig faeth #riz gukgak #the bad kids #total drama #td fantasy high #note: gorgug has two tusks it's just that his expression makes it so only one is visble at the time #total drama high

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concord-and-cliches · 2 years

Text

disco attorney! turnabout elysium! some other third possible combination!

(id in alt text and under the cut, sketches also under the cut)

[image ID: Part one of two of a Disco Elysium/Ace Attorney crossover fancomic.

Panel One: Miles Edgeworth, gesturing with one hand and pointing with the other, says, "Witness, your name and occupation, please."

Panel Two: Harry Du Bois, standing at the witness stand, says, "Oh, okay."

Panel Three: A copy of the previous panel, with no dialogue.

Panel Four: Harry looks off to the side with a nervous expression. Text in the panel reads: "ENCYCLOPEDIA [Trivial - Failure] - Uh…"

Panel Five: Harry, with a concerned and worried expression, has a white ring around his head with three thought orbs that are coloured blue, yellow, and red. Text in the panel reads: "HALF LIGHT - YOU GOT AMNESIA AGAIN. YOU'RE FUCKED." "Logic - No, it's just been a while since you've been on the stand. You're nervous, that's all." "COMPOSURE - Better shake off those nerves before going any further."

Part two of two of a Disco Elysium/Ace Attorney crossover fancomic.

Panel One: Kim Kitsuragi is sitting in the gallery, alongside vague depictions of other people, including Dick Gumshoe, Pearl Fey, and Kazuma Asogi. Text in the panel reads: "PERCEPTION (SIGHT) - The lieutenant's looking right at you from the gallery." "AUTHORITY - Uh-oh." "REACTION SPEED - Quick! Just say anything!"

Panel Two: Harry grips the witness stand and shouts with a frantic expression: "MY NAME IS RAPHAEL AMBROSIUS COSTEAU AND I'M A F(asterisks)T."

Panel Three: Edgeworth looks on with an affronted expression.

Panel Four: Maya Fey and Phoenix Wright have shocked expressions.

Panel Five: Kim has one arm leaning against the gallery, and his head in his other hand.

Panel Six: A slightly-edited copy of Panel Two, but Harry has a pensive expression, and text in the panel reads: "DAMAGED MORALE -1", alongside a purple X.

Three separate mini-fancomics involving a Disco Elysium/Ace Attorney crossover.

The first one is two panels, featuring Elizabeth Beaufort. In the first panel, she is crossing her arms and wearing an outfit similar to Apollo Justice's. She is thinking: "(I went to law school for this?)" In the second panel, she is looking at a screen with an annoyed expression, thinking: "(For a man like that to be among my peers?)" On the screen, there is a picture of Phoenix Wright, and text that reads: "Phoenix Wright's Accomplishments: -Ate Glass -Cross-Examined A Bird -Been Tazed -Been Whipped -Been Impersonated -Been Assaulted With Coffee"

The second one is a drawing of Kim Kitsuragi doing Edgeworth's pose in which he grabs his left arm and looks away with a pained expression. In the style of Ace Attorney, there is a text box which reads: "Kitsuragi: Thanks to you, I am saddled with unnecessary… feelings."

The third one is a drawing of Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth standing together, smiling at one another. Text in the image reads: "MILES EDGEWORTH - "Nice suit, by the way. I like the blue. Goes with the burgundy."

A Disco Elysium/Ace Attorney crossover fancomic featuring Dick Gumshoe, Harry Du Bois, Phoenix Wright, and Kim Kitsuragi.

Panel One: Gumshoe, with a determined expression and his hand in a fist, says: "True art has always been a war against oppression."

Panel Two: Harry grabs Gumshoe's shoulder and points at him with his other hand. He says to Gumshoe, who is smiling, "Oh my God. Dude, we are biving so hard right now."

Panel Three: Harry and Gumshoe begin talking to one another with numerous empty speech bubbles indicating so. Phoenix and Kim look on from the background.

Panel Four: A close-up of Phoenix and Kim, who have disconcerted expressions. Together, they think: "(Two of them…)" /end ID]

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luveline · 5 months

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If you’re taking any requests could I request prince Steve and his soulmate wanting to have their first kiss before the wedding since they’re shy about so many people witnessing it

for you my love ♡ prince!steve au

You glance over the pages of your book to watch the Prince. He's stretching by the balcony, the summer air ruffling his hair, the sun kissing his skin. He's tan from weeks of being outside, and when he moves, it's almost like watching the sun itself. Too much. Your eyes burn after a few moments and you look down again.

“Steve?” you ask, turning a page.

He stops stretching his shoulders to smile at you. His button up rolled at the sleeves and tight on the arms, he's a poster boy. He's everything a Prince should be, and very soon he's going to be your husband. He's barely even your boyfriend.

Your soulmark jitters through colours. It's an odd thing, gaussian and scratchy at once, wrapped around your wrist like poorly wound bandages made of light. His, whenever he's with you, glows a steady pinky-purple. You've no idea what it means.

When you see him, yours is almost always white burning blue. But he smiles fondly and it melds to a softer pink, almost too pale to detect. “What?”

“We're getting married in sixteen days.”

He crosses the room to sit beside you on the bed. Your sheets are white as the soulmark, crinkled under his weight. “There's still time to send you away.” You laugh a startled laugh and try to keep that lightness about you when he clasps your knee. “But I'd die alone, after that, and the kingdom would collapse, and I'd be miserable, so…” He smiles at you, a silky smoothness to his voice as he continues, “I'd rather you stayed.”

“I want to stay. I want–” You bite the soft inside of your bottom lip. “I wanted to ask for a favour.”

“Anything you want. Unless it's to help you with your tutoring. That's never going to happen. I'd make it worse–”

“No, it's not that.” Bite the bullet. Ask the question, even if you're sitting in bed together, even if he's the most beautiful boy this side of the ocean. “I was wondering if you'd kiss me.”

Steve stares at you, slack-jawed for a sliver of a second, but he realises himself and his teeth click as he closes his mouth.

“I don't want the first time we kiss to be– to be in front of so many people. I don't even know what to do.”

“You don't?” he asks.

“No.” You rub your thumb against the pages of your book before sitting up to escape. “It was a stupid thing to ask you for, I'm sorry.”

He takes your arm into his hand. “It's not stupid. I'll kiss you. I want to kiss you, I really want to. I've been worried about it, too. Kissing isn't one size fits all, you know? It's different for everyone.”

“Right.” Your heart beats in your ears. “So you will?”

“I will,” he says, quieter than either of you had been speaking before. He takes the book from your hand carefully and puts it aside, pulling at your arm with similar care as he shuffles close to you on the bed.

You resist the urge to bury your face in your hands. You hadn't thought he'd kiss you straight away, but what difference does it make? You want him to kiss you now, you want—

“You sure?” he asks.

You nod, not trusting your tongue to make words, the weight of it like lead in your mouth. Steve's hand climbs carefully from the bracelet at your wrist to your elbow, but eventually it slides between your arm and your side to the place just below your breasts.

The other. He almost kills you, his other hand, brought so tentatively to your face. He doesn't cup your cheek but his palm turns upward, and his fingertips trail from the skin shy of your nose to just under your chin, and then he closes his eyes and you follow suit, too afraid to see anything after that, your skin alive with his touch.

He kisses like a prince.

Soft. Delicate. Steve clasps your shoulder very gently and guides your face to his, your lips pressing together, the thrum of a spark between you like a firecracker, a Catherine wheel, that spinning expense of energy with nowhere to go but your mouth. His lips part the slightest bit against yours as he kisses up into your lips.

When he pulls away a handful of seconds later, your faces are awash with a lavender light.

“Was that okay?” he asks.

The light turns darker, a terrible heat flushing through you. You wish you had the bravery to ask for another kiss. “Yes,” you say, nearly whispering. “That was fine.”

“We can do better than fine, yeah?”

You almost choke on air. "Yeah. Yes."

He's smiling as he leans back in.

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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beansprean · 2 years

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@blakbonnet @saltpepperbeard Your post has come to fruition…this comic hurt my teeth with its sweetness!! I should apologize for how long it is but...I won't.

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Full body of Stede and Ed standing in an 80s grocery store. Ed, wearing a black tee shirt tucked into lightwash jeans, black boots, a light blue handkerchief in his back left pocket, and his hair in a high ponytail, is standing with an empty grocery cart with both hands on the handle and one foot up on the bottom basket. He glances from the empty cart and then to Stede, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Stede, wearing a retro-patterned teal and purple short sleeved button up tucked into pleated khaki slacks, brown leather loafers, and a gold watch, his hair swept back in a big feathered quiff, holds his hands up defensively with a nervous smile. He says, “Oh- Darling, no. No, no, I’m too big!”

2a. Ed begins to stalk towards Stede with a mischievous grin, arms out in a grabbing motion. Stede backs up, smile growing even as his eyes narrow in warning and his hands try to bat him away. “Ed.” he says shortly. 2b. Ed darts forward and grabs Stede around the waist, scooping him up over his shoulder. Stede bursts into laughter, face going red, and yells “Ed! Put me down, you’ll hurt yourself!” 2c. Ed walks back toward their cart with Stede flopped over his shoulder and sings, “Nonsense, love!” In the background, there is a young brown woman wearing a patterned jumpsuit with long dark feathered hair facing the shelves as she browses cereal. There is a baby over her shoulder wearing teal overalls who catches Stede’s eye as they pass and reaches out a chubby little hand to wave at him in solidarity. Stede waves back automatically, clearly embarrassed but unable to stop smiling.

3a. Ed half-falls into the cart with a punched-out “Oof!” as he flops Stede down into it butt-first, his face buried in Stede’s chest and Stede’s legs flying up around him. 3b. Ed lifts himself up with his arms braced on either side of Stede, nose-to-nose with his husband who has sat up in the cart with a silly grin, one leg thrown over the side. Ed continues the previous conversation with a soft smile, “It’s like holding a couple of grapes.” 3c. Ed closes the last inch between them to smack a kiss on the tip of Stede’s nose. Stede reddens and snorts out a laugh.

4. Close up on the woman in their aisle as she chooses a cereal called “Matey Puffs” featuring a white cartoon Blackbeard with a hook hand. She glances over in confusion at Ed and Stede as they zoom away, Stede tucked in the cart and Ed driving, both giggling uncontrollably. The baby continues to wave after them.

5. Text reading “Later…”

6a. Stede and Ed waiting in line at the checkout. Stede is still in the cart, knees pulled to his chest, now surrounded by piles of groceries including a bottle of L&P soda, a bag of shredded cheese, a head of romaine lettuce, a bottle of wine, a few packs of meat, a bag of apples, a bag of Twisties, a loaf of bread, a bag of Roshuns, several packs of spaghetti, and a few miscellaneous cartons and jars. Ed, one hand on the cart handle, suddenly smacks the heel of his other hand against his forehead with a “duh!” expression. He exclaims, “Oh, shit! We forgot the oranges!” Stede turns his head around shoot him an annoyed look and replies, “What?? That’s the whole reason we came!” 6b. Ed runs off in a cloud of dust, shouting behind him, “BRB, Baby! Kiss kiss!” Stede cranes his neck after him in panic, unable to move from his grocery prison, calling, “Wai- Ed! Ed!!” 6c. Stede turns back around, red faced, sweating with nerves, and now a middle aged man alone in a full grocery cart. In front of him in queue is a bald man resembling Black Pete in a white suit with the sleeves rolled up, pushing his own cart. Behind him are an older dark-skinned woman with short gray hair wearing a puff sleeve shirt, long pink skirt, and pearls, holding a full basket with both hands and a large Māori man resembling Fang in a pink polo shirt and pleated khakis with a bag of dog food under one arm. They both step forward automatically to fill Ed’s vacated space.

7a. The older woman leans forward toward Stede with a small smile, saying, “You and your husband are very sweet.” Stede cranes his neck around to smile at her nervously, replying, “Oh! Thank you…” 7b. The woman loosens one hand from her basket to place it on Stede’s cart, continuing, “Let me push you forward, the queue is moving.” Stede drops his chin to his chest in relief, breathing out a much more genuine “Thank you.”

8a. Text at the top reads “9 minutes later”; Stede has reached the front of the line. The employee, who resembles Izzy, is wearing a blue striped button up and red bow tie under a yellow apron and stands, one hand hovering over the register as he stares down silently at Stede. Stede, looking small and scared, barely able to peek over the edge of the counter, stares back sweatily with wide eyes and says, “Ummm…” 8b. The employee startles as Stede cracks his head back and screams at the top of his lungs, “Ed!! Darling, where are you?? We have a problem!!”

9a. Ed suddenly zooms into view holding a bag of oranges, sliding smoothly between Stede and the register with a grin and a wink. He says, “Never fear, my love! I’m here!” Stede smiles hugely at him, full of relief and love. Behind them, the Izzy-like employee just glares at them, looking extremely tired, revealing he is wearing a large anachronistic button that says “service with a smile”. Stede cries, “You came back!” Ed replies, “Never left.” Both their speech bubbles are filled with pink hearts. 9b. Text in parentheses at the top says “he really didn’t.” We now see Ed from earlier, already holding the bag of oranges, peeking out from behind a shelf with a warm expression. He giggles, one hand to his cheek, as he observes Stede’s predicament from afar. Offscreen, Stede is saying, “Oh- Louise, we’re moving again.” Louise, presumably the older woman behind him in line, responds, “I’ve got you!” Stede continues, “Haha, getting awfully close to the front, aren’t we… I wonder what’s taking Ed so long…” /end ID

#ofmd #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #modern ofmd #80s aesthetic #mlm #our flag means death #my art #fanart #image described #bob damrons handkerchief code may be required reading but there r lots of fun easter eggs #originally i was like hehe what if the baby was jim but i was like no then everyone would be way younger but #who cares baby jim

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hometoursandotherstuff · 1 month

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This 1890 home in New Orleans, LA is absolutely my favorite style and you don't come by homes like this very often. 5bds, 4.5ba, $1.35M. If only...

I love the time worn look. Apparently, buyers like the remodeled, all white look, though, b/c this home has been on the market for 275 days. Shame that no one who has the money to buy it appreciates it.

I adore this look. Wouldn't change a thing.

Love the fireplace and the addition of the cascading plants make it pop. Bet someone buys it and completely redoes it.

The pool room only has slightly worn floors and molding.

Love the faded grandeur of the sitting room. The rooms are surprisingly light and airy.

This kitchen. Amazing.

Vintage powder under the stairs is quite spacious.

Love this room. I think that the new owner should swear that they won't gut this home.

Great bath with burgundy fixtures and a clawfoot tub.

The lovely primary bedroom is like a suite with a sitting room. I like the spiral staircase.

The 2nd full bath is cute. It also has a vintage tub.

Bedroom #2 is very nice.

This bedroom is kind of a hybrid- it has a rusty tin ceiling and an exposed stick wall.

They've switched styles and I'm not sure I like that it's inconsistent. Bathroom #3 is completely renovated, even though it has a vintage tub.

There's a costume studio back here.

A lovely double porch and patio outside.

Large heated pool and Jacuzzi.

In this purple building is another suite.

It has a bed/sitting room with a small fridge.

Behind the folding screen is a pretty, vintage bath.

The home is on a 5,610 sq. ft. lot.

https://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/1476-Marais-St_New-Orleans_LA_70116_M71059-45766

#NOLA homes #vintage decor #old house dreams #houses #house tours #home tour

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strawberriianime · 12 days

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♡ what type of lingerie they would like

♡ satoru gojo, suguru geto, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, choso, sukuna.

♡ cw: include links, mild talk.

✰ satoru gojo

He would enjoy something like an extra, something very dramatic. He enjoys pastel colors but loves to see you in something pink or blue. He likes it if you wear heels with lingerie or pair them with a sheer robe. If he comes home from work and you're sitting home all pretty and dressed up he'll be so hard.

✰ suguru geto

He doesn't have a preference (he says) but he loves to see you wearing the color purple it doesn't matter the shade but he loves to see you in it. He does love to see you in a pair of matching fishnets, they drive him insane. If you want to make his knees weaker, wear both with one of his dress shirts and he'll be ripping it off of you in 2 seconds flat.

✰ nanami kento

He loves the way you look wearing all white, maybe because it reminds him of the day you became his forever. He's a simple man and genuinely doesn't care what you wear when it's time to get busy. When you do choose to dress up he loves to see you in pretty silk slip dresses. He loves the feel of the material on your soft skin and loves how he can easily slip the dress off of you.

✰ toji fushiguro

He is another one who doesn't care what you wear. You can wear a shirt with a gigantic hole in it and he would still take you down. If you decide to get all dressed up and pretty he likes to see you wearing matching sets with fishnets or stockings. He swears he doesn't have a color preference but he does love to see you in a nice shade of green.

✰ choso

He's another one who doesn't care what you wear, but when you do get all dressed up expect him to be strawberry red. He loves everything about your body and he goes ballistic seeing you in a body suit. He loves how they shape your body and how delicate you look in them. He's a sucker for lace and anything v-cut due to the way they show your boobs.

✰ sukuna ryomen

Considering he's an old-fashioned man who's stuck in his old-man ways, he's still used to the old-school lingerie. He loves the long slips, as he loves how innocent they make you look. He is picky unlike the others as they must be silk and if they have lace It should only be at the neck or light lace for decor. Bonus if you were to get pregnant he would still enjoy seeing you dressed up wearing the same style but something looser under the breast area.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo saturo #suguru geto #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji zenin #sukuna ryomen #choso #jjk choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #nanami kento #mid ayeteen #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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vryfmi · 7 months

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book!l&co character lineup

finally finished extended version of my L&Co designs, based on their book descriptions! it took months, but im happy with the results

ID of designs + thumbnail-sketch under the cut

[image ID: two digital drawings of characters from Lockwood and Co books, done in semi-realistic style, black lineart and plain colour against grey background.

image 1: from left to right there are full body drawings of George Cubbins, Anthony Lockwood and Lucy Carlyle. George is standing facing left, slouching, he's looking at the viewer with indifferent expression. he's fat, light-skinned and has medium length fair hair. George's wearing round glasses, red t-shirt, baggy jeans, unzipped grey hoodie and sneakers. he has a grey sport bag in right hand and a black messenger bag across left shoulder. next to him there's Lockwood, he's standing half turned to right, he's facing the viewer with a gentle smile. Lockwood is paler than George, almost a head taller and slim with short, slightly wavy, black hair. he's wearing a grey three piece suit with white shirt underneath, as well as smart black shoes and a purple tie. on top of it is a black greatcoat. Lockwood stands with one hand in pocket and another resting on rapier's grip. the sword is in its scabbard attached to Lockwood's belt. furthest on the right is Lucy, she's standing half turned to right, head facing left with a curious look directed at the viewer. her skin is light and her hair is warm brown, slightly uneven and spiky with middle parting. she has a wide frame and is the same height as George. Lucy's wearing a baggy orange sweater, plaid grey skirt, black leggings and tall dark-brown work boots with iron patches. she's holding onto a strap of her rucksack that is on her right shoulder. there's also a belt on top of the sweater which holds her rapier.

image 2: from left to right there are full body drawings of Flo Bones, human version of the skull, Quill Kipps and Holly Munro. Flo is standing half turned to left, facing towards the viewer with a smirk. she's light-skinned with long dirty-blonde hair, and her face has smudges of mud all over. compared to previous pictures, she's almost as tall as Lockwood, but not quite. Flo is wearing long blue puffer jacket on top of her darker clothes that resemble one of fisherman's with mudded thigh-high rainboots. she stands with one hand in jacket pocket, one raising a brim of straw hat with a knife. said hat has a fishing hook stuck on its brim and two lavender stems attached to hat band. next to her is the skull in his human form. he stands half turned to right, slouching, hands in pockets, with head thrown back with a wide smirk across his face. skull is very thin and not really tall, he is tanned and freckled with spiky dark hair. skull is wearing ill-fitting clothes: a white old-timey shirt that is slightly too big and grey trousers that are too small and short. he stands barefoot. third from the left is Quill Kipps, he stand half turned to right, crossing his arms, head facing left with a look of annoyance. Kipps is short and slim, he has ruddy and freckled skin and short ginger hair. Kipps is wearing a grey leather jacket with Fittes logo on it as well as two medals, tight black jeans and chelsea boots. his rapier scabbard has a baldric type of belt. rapier itself has green gems on a hilt. finally, there's Holly Munro, she's standing half turned to left, head facing right with a gentle smile. she's pretty tall and slim with deep rich black skin tone and black shoulder length curls. Holly's wearing a white short lantern sleeve shirt with a blue dress with a cloth belt wrapped around and tied into a bow at the back, as well as low heel shoes. she has a light-blue scarf wrapped around her head. Holly also has white small earrings and beige nail paint. all of the characters have artist’s watermark at the lower right side of them./end ID]

bonus sketch

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wynnibee · 6 months

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hi sorry this is so late!!! @sup-its-cat i was your secret skeleton dsklfdfk i hope you like it i put a lot of work into this <33

[id in alt and under the cut!]

[id: a fully lined, colored and shaded piece of sup-its-cat’s Mind Roommates AU with (from top to bottom) Eclipse, Moon, Sun and then their halloween-ified sona. Eclipse is in the top right corner, with its arms held out and a wide grin on its face as it looks down at Moon. Eclipse is entirely pink-magenta, with two rows of rays; large white ones and small light light pink ones. It has puffy sleeves on its arms, one with wavy stripes, and the other with stars. Each sleeve ends with a small bow on the wrist. Large ruffles sit around its neck, and its torso is a single, solid color. Its eyes have a darker magenta outer iris, an inner light pink iris, and then a white heart shaped pupil. It has large eyelashes, with the right eye having a long curly-q lash. Jester stripes cut through its eyes onto its cheeks and eyebrows. Eclipse has a long “tail” barely visible swirling around and behind it. The tail starts at the base of its body, and swirls across the entire canvas down to Sun. Eclipse is covered in glitch effects, with a majority of them surrounding its rays and the rest on its ghostly tail. Eclipse’s entire body is glowing a bright pink and it’s semi-transparent, with one arm fading off the canvas. Next is Moon, in the middle left. He’s floating in a partially reclined position, arms held around him loosely. He has a concerned expression on his face as he looks up at Eclipse. His face is white on his crescent side and a medium blue on his shadowed side. He’s wearing his blue nightcap, with a very fluffy white band, and light purple stars. The end is shredded and missing its poof/bell. He’s wearing a light brown hoodie with dark brown zig-zag stripes at the end of the sleeves and a box pattern with a star in the center on his chest. He’s also wearing brown gloves and simple blue pants. Moon’s legs slowly turn into his ghost “tail”, though his is a bright blue and more opaque than Eclipse’s. It’s full of sparkles and a small amount of glitch effects. It curls around behind him as it swirls down the canvas towards Sun. Moon’s colors are very light, having a blue-ish hue to his entire palette. His eyes are mismatched, with blue sclera on his crescent side and red sclera on his shadowed side. He has white rings for irises. He also has large eyelashes with a curly-q lash on the right side of his face. Jester stripes cut through his eyes as well. He has sharp, pointy teeth. Then Sun, who’s standing hunched over with his arms and hands held up in clawed poses with a large, slightly snarled smile on his face as he glares at the viewer. He has a single row of large, orange rays. A couple of his rays are chipped. Sun’s wearing the same clothes as Moon is; a large brown hoodie, blue pants, and brown gloves. He has glowing white eyes and is entirely backlit with blue and pink light. He has large eyelashes, with a curly-q lash on his right side and jester stripes that cut through his eyes. Lastly is sup-its-cat’s sona, an anthromorphic pink cat wearing a suit. It also has a snarled smile on its face, exposing sharp teeth as it glares at the viewer. It has two large horns forming a heart shape on the top of its head, and long fluffy cheeks and ears. It has a purple cravat around its neck with a bow, held together in the center with a diamond shaped purple gem. Its pink suit has exaggerated lapels that curl under themselves. Its shirt is a dark, almost black pink with ruffles around the buttons and a wrinkled waistband. Its holding its long, three clawed fingers up on either side of itself, and its long, fluffy tail curls up behind it. The cat has glowing green eyes with dark pink sclera. The cat, like Sun, is also backlit with blue and pink light. The background is a simple dark blue to magenta gradient, with a white border that has a glitching effect to it. End id.]

#crackles knuckles #sup-its-cat #dcah2023 #fnaf eclipse #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #mind roommates au #cw eyestrain #my art #yeah sorry this is so late!!!!#october was set and determined to make sure i couldnt finish this #so ive been working nonstop to get this done sdlkfjdksflj #i really hope you like it!! your au is so cool

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descaladumidera · 4 months

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COLOR WHEEL CHALLENGE

Yeah, nobody thought I'd be able to finish this, including me. So. Yay for me? Even if they're low-effort drawings.

Daredevil

Spider-Gwen

The Punisher

Nightcrawler

Jessica Jones

Iron Fist

Luke Cage

Spider-Man

ID in alt text and under the cut.

[ID:

Nine pictures.

The first one shows a completely filled Color Wheel with eight drawings.

The red part shows Daredevil, the pink part shows Spider-Gwen, the purple part shows the Punisher (Frank Castle), the dark blue part shows Nightcrawler (Kurt Wagner), the light blue part shows Jessica Jones, the green part shows Iron Fist (Danny Rand), the yellow part shows Luke Cage, and the orange part shows Spider-Man (Peter Parker).

The next eight drawings are the single characters.

The first one shows a drawing of Matt Murdock as Daredevil in his red comic suit. He is shown from the waist up, his lower body cut into a triangle shape. His body is turned slightly away from the viewer and his head is raised as if he is looking up.

The next one shows a drawing of Gwen Stacy as Spider-Gwen in her white, pink, and black comic suit. She is shown in a typical Spidey crouch, one hand on the ground, the other ready to fire a web. Her lower body cut into a triangle shape. She is facing the viewer straight on.

The next one shows a drawing of Frank Castle as The Punisher in in his skull shirt and long leather coat. He is turned slightly to the side but looking at the viewer, holding an assault rifle in both of his hands. His lower body cut into a triangle shape.

The next one shows a drawing of Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler in his red-and-black X-Men suit, including the white gloves and shoes. He is jumping, his left arm outstretched, while his right one hangs lower, bringing his right hand level with his feet. His tail is swishing around his body, coming out in front. His lower body cut into a triangle shape.

The next one shows a drawing of Jessica Jones in her trademark leather jacket. She is glowering at the viewer, arms crossed, a light scowl on her face. Her lower body cut into a triangle shape.

The next one shows a drawing of Danny Rand in his green Iron Fist suit, including the yellow mask, yellow gloves, yellow belt, and the yellow dragon on his chest. He is turned to the side, both hands up, balled into fists. He is holding one fist in front of him, while he is pulling the other back, ready for a strike. His lower body cut into a triangle shape.

The next one shows a drawing of Luke Cage in his trademark yellow shirt. He is facing the viewer straight on, his arms crossed in front of his chest. His lower body cut into a triangle shape.

The last one shows a drawing of Peter Parker as Spider-Man in his red-and-blue suit, including the mask. He is turned to the side, body in a crouch, while is head is turned up. His right arm is extended behind him. His lower body cut into a triangle shape.

End ID.]

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meowzfordayz · 9 months

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shiny

Author’s Note: sooo this was supposed to be for a college au, secretly dating trope suggestion (as well as for an emergency request for fluff 😅)… but then The H*rny™️ hit 🥴, and uhh, it turned into its own lil thing. 😏

shiny

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Word Count: ~2,200

CW: 18+NSFW, cream!pie, explicit language, Fem!Reader

~faqs~

“Sanemi, don’t you think she’s a little out of your league?”

Obanai’s stern tone does little to soften the reality behind his question, Sanemi once more reminded of why he can only watch—can only yearn—from a safe distance of ten physical feet, five invisible rungs on the social ladder, and one gigantic she-doesn’t-even-know-I-exist problem.

“Nobody’s out of my league,” Sanemi mutters, glare darkening with his trademark scowl, “She’s just shiny, is all. I’m easily distracted.”

“And that’s why you ignore me whenever she happens to be at the same dining hall as us,” Obanai snorts.

“Fuck-” Sanemi’s fork scrapes across his plate.

Raising an eyebrow, Obanai continues, “And also why you terrified those women away from their table.”

“-off,” fork stabbing loudly at his dry chicken.

“That just happened to be across from where she was sitting.”

“I said-” tearing sloppily into the overcooked meat.

Mask stretching as Obanai grins, he makes his final push, “And forgot to eat your food after she made eye contact with you.”

Mouth full, words muffled, “-f’ck ‘ff!”

“If nobody’s out of your league, then why don’t you say,”—in a breathy, squeaky voice—“Hi, I’m Sanemi!”

Swallowing his bite in a single motion, “I don’t talk like that,” Sanemi glowers, “Besides, shiny things lose their sparkle the moment you touch them.”

“Whatever man,” Obanai scoffs, “Shiny things also tend to hate crude assholes.”

“I’ll crude your fucking asshole.”

Eyes rolling, Obanai switches gears, “So Mitsuri and I-”

Only to be promptly interrupted, fork waved aggressively in his direction, “Don’t fucking start on your goddamn perfect love life.”

“Perfect?” Obanai huffs, whining now, “Dude, you know how long it took for-”

“If this is supposed to be a roundabout pep talk or offering of love advice,” Sanemi stands, half finished plate in one hand, steel grip around his glass with the other as he tilts his head back to chug the remainder of his lemonade, “Just fucking don’t.”

Waiting in lines isn’t your strong suit, fingernails rapidly tapping your lukewarm plate, droplets of water glistening under the too familiar lighting of the dining hall. You’d already scratched off the faint remains of someone else’s lunch, not bothering to search for a new, cleaner plate — they all had some sort of residue. Lifting your gaze to survey the people ahead of you, you’re immediately hindered by the tall, broad stature of a white haired man, the tension in his back muscles emphasized by the tightness of his moss green shirt. Sighing quietly, you notice his neck twitch, the curve of his biceps discernible as his arms—presumably—cross in front of him.

“Hey,” you say, chatter, clang, and hiss of lunchtime swallowing your attempt to get his attention, “Hellooo.”

Somehow, his biceps flex harder, fabric of his shirt’s armholes stretching to accommodate his strength.

“Um, alright,” you mutter, refocusing on your plate, fingernails returning to their tapping, “Never mind, I guess-”

“If you want, you can cut me.”

You blink, vision flashing to the Beautiful purple eyed man turning around to face you.

“Are they real?” you gush, cheeks warming, eyes squeezing shut before you can process any shame.

“Pardon?” a teasing, incredulous lilt lingers in his voice, “I can see, if that’s what you’re-”

“No, like, are they contacts?”

If it wouldn’t hammer the final nail on your coffin of embarrassment, you’d slap yourself right then and there.

“Open your eyes,” he speaks softer now, “I’m not wearing contacts.”

Eyes opening sheepishly, you stick out your free hand, “Nice to meet you, I apologize, you probably get the eyes thing a lot,” they’re too pretty for you to not.

“I’m Sanemi,” he responds evenly, your hand untouched as his jaw clenches, “Are you going to cut me or not?”

“Or not,” you reply quickly, nose scrunching as you glance away, hand dropping limply, “I can wait.”

“Your incessant tapping suggests otherwise,” he—Sanemi—grunts, “If you’re not gonna cut me, then at least be less annoying to everyone else in line.”

You snort, “Are you usually this combative?” pointedly ignoring his jab.

“Usually, I don’t offer up my spot in line.”

“So does that mean I’m special,” you grin now, eyes glittering at the way his brow furrows, “Or just extra annoying?”

“Extra annoying,” he deadpans, “Definitely extra.”

With a friendly pout, you lapse into silence, shuffling forward an insignificant amount, inwardly cursing whoever poorly planned the university budget to short staff the dining halls.

“Y’know, you look familiar.”

Sanemi shrugs, back turned once more to you, shoulder blades rippling with the motion, “Makes sense.”

“What, am I not original enough for you?” you grumble, cheeks warming again as he whips around to glare at you.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“I don’t know!” you exclaim, “To be nice? To be annoying? Because I’m bored and hangry and this line seems to go on for forever?!”

Lips twitching, he slowly gestures in front of him, still glaring, “Cut me.”

“No!”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Before you can protest, he maneuvers himself behind you, impatience radiating from his body, lean muscles barely grazing your bare arms, goosebumps raising when he crosses his own, the view so much more defined from your new perspective. You’re too busy memorizing his physique to notice his reaction to your careful attention; too busy uttering his name under your breath, committing it to heart, to see the blush creep up his collarbones, his neck, his earlobes; too busy finally getting food to catch him opening, closing, then opening his mouth, a hushed And what’s your name? caught beneath hesitation and loneliness.

“Thanks Sanemi,” you say, waving cheerfully, “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

His response falters in his throat as he watches you leave, gaze swiveling to eventually—reluctantly—make eye contact with Obanai. Good effort! Obanai gives him a thumbs up, just as Sanemi groans lowly, flipping him off.

“Sanemi,” you whisper, fingertips walking warmly across his scars, smooth and sensitive to the touch, his breath catching at the light pressure, “Promise me you were sober.”

Body vibrating with quiet laughter, he catches your hand, lips gentle and wet as he kisses each of your fingertips, “I don’t drink,” eyes flitting over to your haphazardly tossed clothing, “And you?”

“I had one,” you murmur, lifting yourself to roll atop him, straddling his waist, thighs sweaty and soft, heat stirring in his groin at the familiar position, “Way before you arrived.”

“Waited for me, hm?” he chuckles smugly, gripping your hips, kneading into your skin, a strangled hiss tightening his lungs as his cum leaks from your slippery folds to his stomach, “Didn’t think I’d see you at a party like this.”

“And I didn’t think you threw parties,” you quip back, reveling in the filthy squelch of your languid grinding, his rigid abdominals flexing shiny and divine against the bump of your clit, “Till your roommate introduced himself, invited me over,” draping yourself over his chest, tits heavy and warm on his sternum, voice promising and heady in his ear, “I didn’t think I’d be getting fucked tonight.”

“Me neither,” Sanemi rasps, cockhead swollen and smearing precum against the plush of your ass, erect again, “Didn’t think you’d show up on my doorstep,” grasping your jaw to present your neck to his bared teeth, nipping greedily, “Looking so fucking gorgeous, like you were begging for someone to devour you,” tongue swiping flat and messy at the hollow of your throat, his hips bucking upward for friction, “Good thing I found you first, hm? Good thing I got to your pretty mouth, to your beautiful cunt, before some other fuck.”

“Sanemi,” you whimper, tugging your head down slightly, just slightly enough to see the dangerous, hazy glint in his purple stare, “W-wasn’t here to f-fuck anyone.”

“But you did, didn’t you?” he teases lightly, releasing your jaw with a final, tender kiss to your chin, “Had me wrapped around your finger the moment I saw you, laughing with your friends in the dining hall, that incredible smile of yours knotting my stomach,” swallowing thickly, dangerous edge fading as quickly as it surfaced, feather soft confession taking its place, “I must’ve become absolutely insufferable,” snorting amusedly, “If Obanai intervened.”

“I forgot to tell you my name,” you admit sheepishly, beginning your own parade of sloppy, heated kisses across the sheen of his collarbones, exertion from his first orgasm still evident, “Thought I missed my shot,” reaching behind you for his cock, deft thumb circling his tip, grinning at his unabashed moan, “Wondered how I could possibly recover from such an encounter with your mesmerizing hair and brilliant eyes,” winking playfully as you squeeze his cock, earning a halfhearted scowl, “Your gentlemanly gesture of saving me from my hanger.”

“Want to feel you again,” is your only warning, and then he’s bullying his cock between your folds, whining sharply as his tip nudges in, rhythm shallow and wanton, gradually stuffing himself further and further into your honeyed, dripping hole, “Fuck,” he grits out, your ass so perfect and weighted atop him, “You feel so fucking good.”

“Is this all you want?” you ask quietly, question nearly lost in the broadness of his chest, pussy clenching tight and overwhelmed around him.

“This?” he manages to scoff, his exasperated, adoring eyes meeting your unsteady, wide gaze, “‘Course not, I want to get to know you, your favorite color, how you look in the morning, what buttons I can push, when to say I’m sorry,” repetitive, gentle grunts underlying his reassurance as he continues thrusting torturously slow, “I’ve got a devastating crush on you, you idiot, so why the fuck would this be all I want?”

“Well you did just call me an idiot,” you giggle, back arching into his movements, his eyes glimmering at the display of your breasts.

He huffs, “Learn it or hate it, but s’my love language.”

“I’m thoroughly enjoying this love language,” you drawl, grabbing onto his shoulders, sweat trickling shiny and subtle as you readjust yourself, “I guess I could adapt to ~odd pet names too.”

As Sanemi’s pace hastens, second climax coaxed harsh and unrelenting from your body, he slips one hand from your hip to your sex, palm pressing strong and intense on your clit, the most stunning wail tearing feral and needy across his bedroom as you cum on his cock, thighs squeezing the air from his lungs, fingernails digging deeply into his shoulders, neck faintly mottled with the aftermath of his love biting.

Sunlight glows weakly through his blinds, the quiet pulse of your breaths preventing Sanemi from wiggling even an inch, too afraid of shattering the stillness of his dream. Your leg’s slotted comfortable and trusting between his own, fingers pressing soft dots into his chest, a sensation he wishes he could bottle for a rainy day. Thankful for his lack of drinking, and thus, lack of a hangover, his eyes blink closed, basking in the recollection of your unexpected passion, the shine of moonlight on your naked figure, the curve of your smile, hot and welcoming against his mouth.

“So how do I look in the morning?”

Your sleepily murmured question startles him, the uptick in your breathing having gone unnoticed, too deep in his reminiscence. Head tilting to better see you, he smirks fondly, gaze more serene without the exhaustion of the day settled in yet.

“Like you just woke up,” he says nonchalantly, nevertheless breaking into an endeared smile, muscular arm tugging you closer to him, so close you can see the flecks of muted silver in his irises.

“Hm, thank gosh it’s Saturday,” you yawn, limbs stretching in his embrace, toes finding purchase on his ankles, “I definitely did not set an alarm.”

“What dumbass would throw a party on a weekday?”

“Not you,” you retort sweetly, dramatically batting your eyelashes, “You’re not a dumbass.”

“Fuck you,” he mumbles.

“Already?” you wink lazily, “Don’t men have a refractory period or something?”

“I only came once last night,” he nearly pouts, hiding his expression in your sunwarmed hair.

“Right,” you chuckle, tender memories of being carefully wiped clean, and then snuggling into him, promptly passing out, floating contentedly through your vision, “You’re amazing.”

“Amazing enough to do this again?” his voice hardens, somehow moving further from you even as his body doesn’t move.

“Didn’t I already ask you that?” you reply gently.

“Yeah.”

Nose crinkling, you poke at his cheek, humming confidently, “I may not have had a devastating crush on you, but I obviously I like you, idiot.”

“Yeeeah,” he sighs.

“So we’re doing this again,” you remark plainly.

“Good,” he finally grins.

“Good,” you grin.

“Ugh,” he scowls, pretending to push you away, only to quickly pull you back into his embrace, pulse thrumming at the momentary distance.

“You weren’t saying that earlier,” you singsong, lightly tucking a longer strand of his hair behind his ear, cooing at its immediate redness, “You think Obanai heard us?”

“Fuck,” Sanemi grimaces, suddenly dreading his next conversation with his best friend.

“Poor guy,” you laugh, tone laced with mock sympathy, “Probably regrets inviting me.”

Shrugging, Sanemi pecks your forehead, voice gravelly as he mutters, “Nah, fuck him.”

#sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #shinazugawa x reader #wind hashira #one shot #college au #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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multifandomgirl08 · 3 months

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Tu me promets (Reader POV) - D.R. #3

Sugar Daddy!Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Reader

Summary: Monaco from the reader's POV, the fallout after and Daniel doing his best to make it right.

Warning(s): Implied sexual content, possessive Daniel

A/N: I would recommend that you go and give Daniel's POV a read if you already haven't after reading this.

Words: 3.4k

Previous Part ← Daniel's POV The Arrangement Masterlist

Being here in Monaco with Daniel felt like you were in a dream. The yachts, the people, even watching the cars pass by as Daniel drove you around the city.

Daniel took you shopping after dropping your luggage off at the hotel. You walked into store after store, collecting bags as if there was no such thing as too much when it came to him.

A dress from Dior, an Alexander McQueen signature clutch, shoes from Gianvito Rossi, and a custom necklace from Bvlgari.

Going to the event with Daniel that evening was too easy. You just had to stand next to him and be able to feed off his energy all night. Talk to the people in the room, and make sure that you were polite to the wait staff.

Halfway through the evening, Daniel pulled you onto the dance floor for what should have been a tango. You had been the only two people on the floor. His lips had "accidentally" brushed against yours...

After you had left the party, you invited Daniel up to your hotel room for a drink. You had talked like that night in your apartment. Your dress and heels were getting a little uncomfortable so you said that you would quickly change and be right back.

You looked through your suitcase and saw that you had only packed a La Perla nightie. Stepping back into the living area, you could feel Daniel's eyes on you.

Would it be wrong of me to wonder why he hadn't tried to take things further? You thought to yourself, pouring yourself a glass of Champagne.

You had walked to the couch placing your feet on Daniel's lap, his hand resting on your calf drawing random patterns on your skin. You could feel your skin growing hot under his hands.

Your champagne glass had already been placed on the table as you were talking. You couldn't help but wonder what would happen if you tried to take this further. If he would even let you or try to stop you. You had always let Daniel set the pace and even slowed it down when it felt like he was rushing into this.

After he gave so much, was it wrong of you to want to be a little greedy? He never let himself take it further. You never felt like you had to push Daniel for more, but as you sat in the hotel suite with him you couldn't help but want more.

You moved closer to him, before reaching over to kiss him. And God was it worth the wait. His hands went to your thighs, pulling up the nightie. Your hands moved into his hair, while you could feel him grow hard under his dress pants, and the expensive lace of your panties.

Being with him was slow and languid, like the most intimate tango of your life. To tango alone with him was everything.

Daniel seemed to settle within your bedsheets, his fine curls against the white pillow. You had fallen asleep against him almost instantly. You had woken up a little while later, Daniel was sleeping on his stomach. You pulled yourself from the sheets, stealing his white dress shirt off the back of the couch before climbing back in bed.

You glanced at the long exposed skin of his back and couldn't help but place a light kiss on his shoulder blade before closing your eyes again. You were sure you would see him in the morning, he had promised you that he would be coming back home with you.

There were sounds in the room that seemed to pull you out of sleep.

"Daniel?" You questioned, slowly moving up in bed.

It didn't look like anyone was in the room with you. You moved from the bed and then out from under the sheets. There was a white notepad next to your jewelry, your eyes glanced into the mirror and you saw yourself as you stood there in Daniel's shirt, a light purple bruise - correction, hickey on your neck. There was what looked like a red lipstick stain on the collar of the shirt that you were wearing. It was your favorite shade by Dior.

You looked down at the note, watching Daniel's handwriting turn frantic as the words kept going.

Hey babe,

Sorry, I couldn't stay. I know that I promised that I'd fly back home with you, but something came up with the team. So I'm needed ASAP.

I'll call when I can, I'll miss I'll see you soon. Hope you have a good flight.

Please text me when you get home safe... I don't want anything to happen to my girl you.

Danny Ric

Looking at this letter made you feel weird. You moved back onto the bed, and read it over again. It was strange, almost like this letter was written by the Daniel that you had first met in Vegas, not the Daniel that you knew.

Daniel wasn't that great at hiding the fact that he thought of you as his. You loved it when he called you his. You wore the jewelry that he bought you daily, lived in the apartment that he paid for, and wore clothes that he would pick out for you. You were his. Sleeping with him didn't change that.

It had been two months since you had seen or heard from Daniel. You had to find out online that Daniel was back driving in Formula 1. He didn't text or call you as his note said. It was just dead silence from him.

You were still using his credit card to pay for food and the few bills that you had like Netflix and Spotify. You knew that you should have stopped using his card after he hadn't gotten back to you.

You had been sitting on the couch eating Italian take-out, watching Gossip Girl, and looking at the offer letter you had gotten in your email earlier in the day. Serena had just gotten back together with Dan after he had judged her for something. You weren't really paying attention.

There had been a knock at your door, which was strange. Normally, the security guard at the front desk would call up first.

You moved the take-out container onto your coffee table before opening the door. As you pulled it open, your eyes widened looking at Daniel standing before you with a small bouquet of white Japanese Camellias.

"Can I come in?" He asked.

It was his apartment, he didn't have to ask to come in. You stood there for a moment before walking away from the door.

"I'm sorry." He sputtered trying to hand you the flowers. You didn't take them from him.

You watched as he walked in placing the bouquet in the vase you had that looked like a Lady Dior bag. There was no water in it but you could always add more later.

"Look, I know I shouldn't have left the morning after," Daniel said, as he leaned against the back of the cream couch in his hoodie and jeans. "I just... it was a lot for me, to know how I felt and then do that. Be with you."

You just look at him as he's standing there. You don't know what to say to him. He slept with you, bolted the morning after, and left you a scribbled note.

It was horrible to even think that what he did wasn’t that bad. Some girls got less after sleeping with a guy. Daniel had given you business class tickets to fly home, and you came back to a fully furnished apartment that he paid for.

There were never any hard promises with your arrangement. It was always one day at a time, at the pace that he would set. Either you would agree or you wouldn't. He never promised you more than that.

"So, what does that mean?" You pulled at the bottom of the oversized hoodie that you wore, it was pastel pink. You knew that it was also Daniel's. He had left it here before Monaco and said that you could keep it since it was a merch sample.

"I don't know." He said with a shake of his head. "I pay you... to spend time with me, in gifts, and clothing, and all this other stuff."

There were so many things that Daniel had given you over the time that you had known him.

"I won't pay you to sleep with me, it's not right." Well he was paying you still and you had slept with him.

"Who says that you'd be paying me to sleep with you? Maybe I just want to." You spoke up. Daniel probably knew that his money could buy him anything, even that. It was sweet that he didn't want you to think he was using his money to buy that from you.

"But you shouldn't." He started to say and then stopped after closing his eyes. "What I mean is, I can't keep doing this because of the money. I care too much for you now for it just to be what it was."

You cared about Daniel too. So you had to ask him something. Just have him think about what your relationship was like, without the money there.

"Can you think about our relationship for a second... without the money." You said slowly walking closer to him.

"What are you talking about?" He questioned almost cluelessly.

"What would we do while you were in town? And I don't mean the shopping." You wanted him to see that his money wasn't part of the equation.

"Dinner, and we'd go out to hang out with my friends, maybe watch a movie or something." You let Daniel get the words out, watching his face for a bit. He still looked serious, like he didn't understand.

"What am I to you Daniel? What do you call me in all your notes?" You asked.

"You... you're my girl." Hearing him say it made a small shiver run down your spine. You shook your head before walking closer to him.

"Why do you call me that?"

"Because you’re mine." He whispered, "I like spoiling what's mine."

You could hear a little realization in his voice.

You pressed yourself against his chest, lightly brushing your nose over his. You heard his breath catch in his throat. For the first time when it came to Daniel, you felt like you were the one fully in control.

You glanced to the side to see that Daniel's hands were laid flat against his pants. You reached for them, placing them at your hips. You wanted him to touch you, to feel you under his hands.

"It's okay, Daniel." You whispered. "You can have me."

Giving him the invitation was all it took. He pulled you in closer and then picked you up taking you to the couch. He plastered you to his chest, having your lips meet his with his hands quickly starting to card through your hair.

You knew that you still had things to talk about with him but it could wait.

You were starving for each other.

A few hours later, Daniel was sitting up against the headboard of your bed. You sometimes forget that he had never ventured this far into the apartment.

He was fidgeting with the delicate chain of the Tiffany bracelet that you wore. It was one of the few luxury pieces that you had that Daniel hadn't gotten you.

You looked up at him to see that his hair was a mess from tugging at it. He still looked so good though.

"Can you promise me something?" You asked him.

He looked to meet your eyes, not giving you much acknowledgment other than a slight nod.

"If we keep doing this," You pointed between the two of you. "Promise me that you know it's not about your money."

You wanted him to understand that it was more for you, you wouldn't say that you were in love but you cared about him. It wasn't about the money for you either, or the security of being taken care of. You were out of school and could find a job on your own if you needed to. You didn't need Daniel's money.

"But isn't that why this all started for you," He asked. "Because of the money."

"Yes, when I was in school." He seems to forget about that. "But I'm out of college now, I can find a job, maybe even take over paying the rent on this place."

You could but you didn't know how much Daniel was paying in rent. It was a 2-bedroom apartment in one of the nicest parts of the city. It isn't cheap.

"I don't pay rent on it." He said scratching at the back of his neck. "I bought it."

Your eyes widened. So when he had gotten you an apartment, he had bought you one... You didn't know how to feel about that.

"What about you?" You asked, changing the subject. "What started all this for you?"

You never knew Daniel's motivations for entering this arrangement.

"I needed a change, something to make me feel like I was worth something. A priority, if you will."

You moved the fluffy sheets around you before moving to sit in his lap. You could feel him bare under your thighs. You didn’t feel that exposed with the sheets around you and his hoodie covering your chest.

"You are worth so much." You leaned forward so your forehead was touching his. "All the money in the world can't compare."

Daniel let out a big laugh tucking his face into your hair. You couldn't help your smile from breaking through. That was a really cheesy thing to say.

He didn't pull back right away, probably lost in thought.

"I think that if we keep doing this," He started to say. He was slow to pull back from you. Wanting to cherish feeling you against him. "You need to know that it'll be more for me than it was."

You figured it would be more. It wouldn't be just dinners, flying you out whenever it worked for both of you, and shopping.

"I understand." You said tracing over the tattoo close to his collarbone.

"No, like, I have feelings for you. Real feelings. And I can't do this if you don't feel anything for me in return." He placed his hand over yours on his chest.

You weren't in love with him, sure you could see yourself one day falling for him but it wouldn’t be right for you to say that.

"I do have feelings for you, but I never thought that you would let me get close enough to see if there was more than attraction." It wasn't exactly what you wanted to say. Even saying that didn't feel easy.

You could see his shoulders deflate a little, not happy with what you told him. His head moved back against the headboard, and you saw him swallow heavily. Part of you thought he would get up and leave. He didn’t, he stayed in bed letting himself contemplate for a bit.

“When did it become more for you? Italy? Meeting Scotty and my friends?” He asked finally, looking to meet your eyes.

There were a few questions you thought he would ask, but that wasn’t one of them.

It wasn’t hard to think back to that. It was too easy. You had gone out to dinner with him, it was probably within the first eight months of knowing each other, and you had to walk down the street late at night. Daniel had taken your hand and insisted that he be the one to walk closest to the sidewalk. It was an off thing to cherish in a partner, it made you see that not all chivalry was dead yet.

So you told him that, watched as his face moved as the words left your mouth. He looked surprised with a light blush falling over his cheeks. “That’s when I knew it was more, I knew that I couldn’t make you give me more, so I let you give me what you could, until Monaco. By then I was sick of waiting. I needed more… So I took it.” You had been selfish that night, taking what you wanted.

It was weird, now knowing that Daniel wanted it too.

"I guess that means that we're both in this." He finally said. You leaned closer to him, letting your lips meet before feeling his hands move up to your thighs.

"This means," He said, quickly flipping you onto your back. You let out a loud laugh. "That since you’re mine, I get to keep taking care of you."

He hovered over you before he dropped his head to your neck, lightly trailing kisses over your skin. You couldn't help but try to shift under him, your legs were locked over his back.

"Know what that means?" He asked. You shook your head no slowly, feeling his nose nuzzle you behind your ear.

"There is... no way... I'm letting you... get a job." He lightly kissed your skin in between words before he shifted on top of you to pay attention to the other side of your neck.

You shook your head in disagreement before pecking him on the lips. Let him think that you weren’t going to end up getting a job, for now.

Eventually, you turned on the lights in the bedroom off needing some sleep. You pressed yourself up against Daniel, scared that there was a possibility of him leaving before you woke up in the morning.

“Don’t worry, babe.” He muttered into your hair before kissing your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You closed your eyes thinking of his promise, his hands traveling down your back. It was easy being able to drift off next to him, the room dark with the city lights peeking in through the window in the room.

You had woken up the next morning to the sound of cursing coming from your kitchen. You pulled the sheets closer to you before opening your eyes to see the other pillow that was normally fluffed had a dent in it.

“How do you work this damn thing?” You heard a familiar accent say.

You let yourself lay in bed a little longer before getting up and walking into the closet to throw a sweatshirt on and some shorts. You couldn’t find the one you wanted to wear in your closet, it was probably in the washing machine. So, you pulled on a short pink dress instead quickly and then walked out of your closet to see Daniel’s hoodie on the edge of your bed. You took it with you, laying it over the back of the sofa in the living room before walking into the kitchen.

Daniel had just turned around holding your beloved coffee mug in his hand. It was wet, and you could make out small puddles of water by the sink.

He gave you a big smile before placing the cup into the stand for the coffee maker.

“How's my girl this morning?” He asked.

“Pretty good.” You replied, getting closer. You were more than pretty good. Daniel was still here. He hadn’t left.

You moved your arms around his waist and then pecked him on the lips before he deepened it. His hands moved up to cradle your cheek slowly pulling away. He looked a little surprised. As if he couldn’t believe that you were still standing in front of him.

“I know I bought the place, but can you please show me how to use this thing?” He said, gesturing to the coffee maker.

You laughed, pulling away from him a bit, and then quickly kissed his stubbly cheek before pressing one of the buttons on the coffee maker. You had gone into your fridge to pull out oat milk for Daniel, while your cup filled up with coffee and the normal milk that you used.

Daniel just watched you wander around the kitchen, he thanked you once you made his latte and then made your way over to the couch. You and Daniel spent the next few hours together, at some point, he insisted on watching a movie, and you sat and listened to him quote the lines that he knew, and corrected him on the lines that he had forgotten.

SD!Danny Ric Series: @hc-dutch, @taylorslovesswifties13, @thatsusbitch, @laneyspaulding19, @basicallyric, @divya14, @zafetycar, @brekkers-whore, @cixrosie

#SD!Danny Ric Series #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #dr3 x reader #dr3 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months

Text

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 3: The Summer Has to End Someday

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 three of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (once or twice), Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

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 occasionally described as "curvy." 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

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

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

Philadelphia 1935

"Sit still." You say, dipping your brush gently in the small pot of water at your knee, before stroking it through your paints and placing it against the pad of watercolor paper in your lap.

It was a beautiful day at Fairmount Park. Children ran across the grassy fields flying kites and avoiding the outstretched hands of their mothers, while couples lounged on blankets with picnic baskets overflowing with sandwiches and champagne. The sun was sending gilded light across the pond that gently rippled with the breeze that brushed through your hair, pulling it across your rosy cheeks that blushed under Ben's gaze.

It was your 16th birthday and despite your mother's insistence to take you shopping in the busy stores that lined the streets downtown, you had refused, choosing rather to come to the park and prepare your mind for the party that would follow this evening. You had already glimpsed the abomination of purple tulle that your mother expected you to wear and you hoped that a quiet afternoon in the park would wipe the monstrosity from your memory.

At least before you were squeezed into said dress later that evening.

"I’m bored." Ben stated, leaning back on his elbows where he was sprawled next to you in the lush grass that was no doubt staining the light blue dress that clung to your body. One you had chosen for yourself that accentuated the way you looked, rather than hid it as the other dresses your mother bought for you. However, when Ben came to pick you up this morning your mother had insisted you bring a coat, despite it being the middle of summer. You hadn't missed the flash of anger in Ben's eyes when she wrapped the coat around your shoulders to hide your curves. The same coat that Ben immediately removed when you walked out the door and threw over the wrought iron fence that surrounded the front of your home, before looping his arm in his to direct you toward the park.

"It was you who said you wanted me to paint you." You sigh, looking up at your friend.

Ben's navy suit jacket was open, the buttons of his matching vest and white shirt underneath strained as his muscular shoulders pulled against them and made your breath catch as your eyes traced them. There was a pale pink phlox flower in his front jacket pocket, one you stuffed there earlier despite the roll of his eyes. You had wanted some contrast between his suit and the color of the flower, and despite Ben's annoyance, he obliged you as he always did.

"I was hoping there would be less clothing involved." Ben grins at you.

"You know, no other gentleman speaks to me the way you do."

"I didn't know you considered me a gentleman y/n. I thought that you knew me better than that." His grin quickly shifts into a mischievous smirk that makes you bite the inside of your cheek and turn back to the page.

A year had passed since Ben got you watercolor paints and ignited a unquenchable passion for painting. Something about the way the colors ran together soothed you, the gentle stroke of the brush against the page calming the usual frustrations of your life.

One of which was sitting beside you, looking entirely too attractive for someone who'd just rolled out of bed and was wearing the exact outfit he had been wearing when he snuck through your window last night. This morning he had crawled out the window and rang the doorbell at the front of your home, acting as if he'd been up for hours.

You pause at the thought of last night. Ben was leaving for boarding school number seven at the end of the week, but the way he looked when he showed up the night before, rumpled and smelling of cheap whiskey, meant that he and his father had another disagreement. Despite his inability to talk about what happened, if it was your burden to bear, to always be there for him, you welcomed it.

"Hey." Ben's hand comes down on your arm to draw your attention back to him.

You look back up at him. "Hmm?"

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" He turns his head to the side to examine you.

"Thinking about the party."

"Oh right. Should be fun. Can't believe I received an invitation. I thought your mother would have burned it-"

"She tried." You smirk. "I snatched it from the fireplace just for you."

"How thoughtful."

“Selfish really. There’s no way I’m going through one of those parties without you again.” You snort, catching his emerald gaze.

“The Christmas party was not that bad-“

“Says the guy who got drunk on eggnog and then preceded to flirt with a potted plant!”

“That potted plant was more interesting than that idiot How-“ Ben’s next words are cut off.

"Y/n!" You hear someone shout from behind you.

Howard Stine struts towards the two of you across the sidewalk, where a few other boys stand in a tight group. He’s wearing a sand colored suit and vest, with the chain of his golden pocket watch catching in the warm sunlight with each stride forward. At Howard’s appearance, Ben sits up from his relaxed position, leaning towards you.

“Speak of the devil.” You hear him mutter.

Ben nods his head towards the group of boys, who nod back in greeting. Ben was more popular than you. Your own circle of friends was reduced to Ben, your housekeeper, the gardener, and a handful of girls your own age that only wished to talk about how close you and Ben were and once they realized you were just friends, they then proceeded to ask you if you could set them up.

As if you would ever set them up with him, you were still trying to set yourself up with him.

A few of the group of boys you recognize as the sons of your father's friends and others boys you'd seen Ben stumble around with on the streets after a night at the bar around the corner. You watch Ben's left hand go to the flower in his front jacket pocket and crunch it in his fist before the others can see it.

The action made you smile to yourself, because despite Ben not wanting them to see him with the flower, he had still allowed you to place it there.

Howard blocks the rays of sun above you so that you don't have to squint up at him. He wasn't terrible looking. Howard was your height, with reddish brown hair that was slicked back over his head and he had a dusting of cinnamon colored freckles on his cheeks, but he was nowhere near as tall or broad as Ben. Where Ben was muscular, Howard was lanky, his hands small and sweaty. Ben moved with a grace and elegance that you couldn't comprehend, while Howard plodded along, stumbling on solid ground. Howard's pointed chin was nothing like the strong jaw of Ben's rugged face. Something that you studied whenever Ben was with you and you spent several nights devoted to capturing in your sketchbook.

"Hi Howard. How are you?" You smile at him, brushing back your hair from your face with your free hand.

Howard's eyes move from Ben to you, taking in your close proximity. Ben's hand was still touching your arm, and the tip of your knee an inch away from the outer edge of Ben's thigh. In fact, Ben had leaned towards you so close when Howard came over that his breath rustled through your hair.

"Good. What are you doing?” Howard moves a hand through his hair to tousle the reddish waves.

“Ben is obliging me. It’s a beautiful day and I wished to capture it.” You wave the brush in your right hand for emphasis.

“Ah.” Howard squints at the watercolor paper. “Well it’s certainly interesting. I didn’t know you liked to paint.”

“She likes all kind of things Howie.” Ben responds with a smirk, his voice dripping with suggestion.

Your eyes flash a warning to where Ben sits. He’s withdrawn his hand, but he’s still leaning close enough to you that you can smell the spicy scent of his shampoo and cologne.

It reminds you of this morning when you woke up and realized that Ben had pulled your back into his chest while he was sleeping. When his arm was curled around your waist as he buried his head in your hair and muttered something in his sleep that you couldn’t understand. The thought makes you flush bright red, remembering how wonderful and intimate it felt to be there.

Howard ignores him. “We're all going to go to Wallman's on the corner for shakes, I was wondering if you wanted to come?" He doesn't acknowledge Ben.

“Well-“ You begin to say, taking in the beauty of the pond and your paint stained hands.

The truth was you didn’t want to go, you wanted to sit there in the grass forever with Ben, where you couldn’t tell if you were warm because you were under the golden light of the sun or under Ben's gaze.

“She’s busy.” Ben says before you can finish your sentence.

Howard’s smile becomes tight. “I think I was asking her.”

Ben shrugs. “And I think I just gave you an answer.”

"Why don't you just-" Howard begins, but Ben is already up off the ground, pressing his chest against Howard's, his green eyes blazing in the light of the sun.

"Why don't I just what Howie?" Ben's voice is low, the deep rumble stirring something in the pit of your stomach.

You loved a lot of things about Ben, but his temper was not one of them. Ben rarely lost his temper with you, yes you did annoy him and he would lose his patience, but he often turned that anger into teasing.

"Ben." You stand, leaving your watercolor pad on the ground, so you can place your hand on Ben's shoulder. It was supposed to be a gentle reminder. Ben knew that you were more than capable of making your own decisions, but you couldn't help but wonder why Ben had responded the way he did.

Is he jealous?

Ben looks down at you with a frown, but finally he sighs and takes a step back.

Howard's eyes are narrowed at where Ben now stands to your right, Ben's arms crossed over his muscular chest, but Howard's gaze shifts back to you expectantly.

"Howard that's really sweet, but it's getting late and I have to get ready for the party tonight." You force a giggle to ease the tension in Howard's shoulders. "You are coming right?"

"Of course." He smiles. "I was hoping that you'd save a dance for me."

"She-" Ben begins to say, but you elbow him in the side, hard.

"Of course I will."

“Great. I guess I’ll see you tonight.” He frowns one more time at Ben before turning back to the group of boys on the sidewalk and leaving with them.

Ben stands there for a minute watching him go.

"You should try to be nicer to him." You say, tugging on the sleeve of Ben’s jacket to grab his attention.

"Why?" Ben snorts.

"Because-" You shrug. "He's sweet and he’s interested in me. I’d hope that you two would get along.”

Ben rolls his eyes. "You could do better."

"Last time I checked the suitors aren't exactly lining up. Not to mention you tend to scare them all off." You wave a hand around you for emphasis. "And I'm not getting any younger."

"Neither am I, but you don’t see me settling for Howard Stine.”

"I didn't realize he was your type." You snort rolling your eyes at him as you sit back down in the grass and pick up your painting again. "I haven't seen you courting anyone recently."

You try to keep the happiness from your voice at the thought. Ben hadn't been trying to chase after as many girls in the past few months as he had previously. And you wondered if his father was trying to arrange him with anyone. If Ben’s mother had still been alive you knew that she would have found someone suitable for Ben, but you’d heard your father say something to your mother behind a closed door that Ben’s father had asked about one of the daughters of his work colleagues.

The thought makes something in your chest tighten to the point of snapping. You hated the idea of watching Ben court someone else, watching someone else kiss him, run their fingers through his hair, and hated the thought that Ben would spend the night with someone else other than you.

Of course when he spent the night with you, all you did was talk, but it was possible that Ben might find that sense of companionship with a lover rather than you.

And then where would you be? Alone.

Ben reclines back as he did before, shaking his hair out behind him, and closing his eyes. It's lighter in the sun, more of a honeyed brown than the usual oak. "I leave in a week."

"Hasn't stopped you in the past." You mutter more to yourself than him.

"Maybe nothing has caught my eye." He opens one eye to study you.

"Hmm."

“Or perhaps I’d much rather spend my last days of freedom with you.” He flirts with a wide smile.

“Last days of freedom?” You laugh, ignoring his tease. “We both know you’ll probably be back within the month.”

Instead of laughing, Ben’s smile fades into a frown and you wonder if he’s thinking of his father.

“Ben I’m sorry I didn’t mean-“

Ben shrugs it off and pulls out a silver flask from his jacket pocket. As soon as he opens it, the sour smell of whiskey floats through the air before he takes a swig. He holds it out to you, but you wave it away, focusing back on your paper.

"So if he's the one, why didn't you go with him to Wallman's? You made up a bullshit excuse that you had to go home." Ben takes another pull from the flask, but you can't shake the shift in his tone.

"I wanted to finish painting." You say to avoid the truth, that you didn’t want to leave him, because you could tell he was still upset over whatever he and his father talked about last night. “But I do need to go home. Mother is no doubt waiting with a horde of maids to make me presentable.”

You frown to yourself imagining next few hours where you would be slathered in creams, your hair tugged and swept up over your head, your body scrubbed almost painfully, and finally the corset that would cut off your circulation and make it impossible to breathe.

You wondered if any other girls your age were subject to such torture.

“Just admit it y/n, you find Howard as boring as a sack of flour.”

“He’s from a good family, he’s a gentleman. My mother would be pleased-“ You start to say, defending Howard even though you didn’t like him as much as you liked Ben.

“Your mother would be pleased with a cactus as long as it meant getting you out of her sight.” Ben snaps back.

His sharp words sting against your skin and you drop your eyes to the paper again, welcoming the silence that follows. Because he was right.

Your mother thought you were a disappointment. She had started comparing you to your sister-in-law who was flawless, effortlessly beautiful and graceful. Your mother voiced her disapproval many ways with disapproving looks, snide comments on what you wore, how you looked... It wasn’t for lack of trying. You did whatever she asked but each time it was never good enough for her. You weren’t enough. And it was something you kept close to your heart. Ben knew that better than anyone.

That’s why his words hurt so much.

“Sweetheart I’m sorry-“

“It’s okay.” The tears that burn in your eyes smear the image of the page in your lap.

“Y/n please look at me.”

You don’t raise your head. “I should go. She’ll be mad if I’m late-“ You begin to put away your things.

Ben’s fingertips come to your chin, tilting it back to look at him once more. He looks sorry. His green eyes are paler now, like clover, wide and open, his mouth pulled down into an apologetic frown.

“Please don’t go. I’m sorry. Just stay a little longer.”

You sit there for a moment, his hand cupping your cheek and as a tear falls Ben brushes it away with his thumb. The gesture is gentle and surprising. Ben tolerated the occasional hug, but this was more intimate. It made your breath catch.

“Okay.” You whisper.

Ben relaxes and drops his hand from your face, but he’s still watching you. You know he’s trying to think of something to say to make you feel better, but when he can’t come up with anything, he reaches over and plucks another flower from the bush on his left, before stuffing it in his front jacket pocket.

It enough to make you smile and this time he returns it, understanding that he's been forgiven. You allow the warmth of his gaze seep into your skin and you bask in the warm glow of his smile.

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

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

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak

#jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #the boys fanfic #the boys #soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys amazon #jensen ackles #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #the boys series #the boys season 3

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