#Interrupting Ben while he’s cooking

[zepskies]

Could you pleasssse write how soldier boy would react to his girlfriend sneaking up behind him and just ‘biting’ his shoulder while he’s cooking breakfast shirtless 🙌

*casually passes away* 😵

Hi there! This is a cute imagine. 😂 I love sexy fluff like this.

Lol it weirdly took me a while to come up with a scene for this one, but I hope you enjoy it -- I'll release this one into the wild on Sunday (12/31)! 😘💚

Since it's in the same vein, it’ll be a kind of sequel to this Soldier Boy imagine: Repaying him for a job well done.

[avoidthings]

kitchen’s closed | t. richmond

About: Terry catches you in the kitchen late at night and has his own idea of a midnight snack. [word count: 2.1k] Warnings: Explicit language. 18+ Readers Only. Oral (female receiving), Unprotected PIV (wrap your willy, pls). I had concepts of a plot. 

It was well past midnight in North Carolina, and you could hear the crickets and other critters abuzz outside of your bedroom window. You stared at the sliver of moonlight cast between your curtains, realizing the clutches of insomnia had sunk its sneaky fingers in you yet again. 

Your boyfriend, Terry, rarely stirred in his sleep, and kept a hefty arm draped over your waist every night. Being that he was ex-military, it was sort of ironic how heavy of a sleeper he was. Some evenings you tried to count the rise and fall of his chest instead of sheep, but rather than lulling you to bed it just disgruntled you. You wanted to poke the bear awake and damn him for leaving you so smitten. 

The room was quiet aside from the bustle of the outdoors, and you thanked God your man didn’t snore or else this would feel like a torture chamber. You flipped through the rolodex of your thoughts and landed on recapping your day; you went to work, Terry picked you up and made a stop at Kroger, then you two watched some sitcom reruns for a bit. House rules were to grab takeout after grocery shopping so neither of you had to bother with cooking something. 

All that thinking of food must’ve sent a reminder to your stomach. You exhaled as it grumbled. While very cute, you would rather not see Terry’s grumpy face should he discover his miso soup missing. You perked up at the memory of slipping a pint of ice cream in the shopping cart earlier. 

It was counterproductive, solving sleeplessness with sugar, but you hoped Ben & Jerry’s would be your saving grace tonight. You peered over your shoulder to find your boyfriend as sound as ever, eyes fluttered closed like a saint. 

After a silent prayer, you wriggled from his hold and toed out of bed. You pattered around the twilight of the room, starting your mission to the fridge. Past the master bathroom, the thermostat, (which nearly broke the two of you up), and to the far right of your living space was your destination. Thankfully, the range hood light was on so you weren’t too sore of eyesight. 

You opened the freezer and plucked out your reward. After grabbing a spoon, you settled in, sitting on top of the counter. The granite was cold against your bare thighs, your body only blanketed by a worn t-shirt that hung off your shoulders. 

That first mouthful was instant gratification and you nearly rolled your eyes back in delight. 

“Baby, what are you doing up this late?” You were startled by Terry’s voice, the tone more gruff from the interruption of his slumber. 

You were caught red-handed, spoon in mouth, so you shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Wanted something sweet.” 

He hummed. Terry made his way closer, no longer a distorted shadow in your peripheral vision. He had come to bed in only his sweatpants and socks. 

Terry had a glow about him, even in the dim of your surroundings. He slipped comfortably in your personal space, stepping right between your legs. You relished in the warmth. 

You had to look up even with the extra height the counter gave you.

“Sorry to wake you. I know you have to go for your run in the morning,” you said. 

Terry gave you a lazy smile and shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Everythin’ okay?” You nod wordlessly. 

“Hey!” You protested when he nabbed the pint from you, his hands quicker than your reflex to reach for it back. It was a battle you would more than likely lose anyway. 

He successfully hushed you by taking a scoop from the container to raise to your lips. 

“Open.” 

You held his gaze as you took what was given, inciting a groan that rumbled low in his chest. 

Terry obliged you once more and made notice of your tongue swiping to the corner of your mouth to catch what you missed. His own hunger dwelled in his underbelly. Between your job returning to the office and his growing trucking business, you haven’t made much time for intimacy as of late. 

“I think I’m in the mood for somethin’ sweet too.” The spoon and tub clattered by your side and he disappeared from your view. 

“Terry--” 

“Open,” he demanded once more, kneeling toward your feet, causing fire to crawl up the back of your neck. He did not take kindly to being ignored, and you wanted this to be an easy night, so you let your legs spread apart. 

He tossed one behind his shoulder, mumbling something inaudible to you. A kiss to your ankle, the inside of your knee, then your thigh. 

A yelp pierced the air when Terry’s large hands claimed the curve of your hips, tugging you closer to the counter’s edge. Your clammy palms braced themselves on the flat surface beneath you. You could feel his smirk and goatee rubbing on your exposed skin. 

Your breath quickened with the anticipation of what was next. His mouth ghosted over your center, blowing on your clit through your dampening panties. 

“Oh, fuck,” you shuddered. 

He was a merciless man, dropping open-mouthed kisses to your clothed center. He retreated as you tried to furl into his touch, reaching underneath your shirt to roll your nipple for more stimulation.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Terry inhaled your scent without shame. Finally, the cotton of your undies was torn from your pelvis to who-knows-where. You felt the coolness of the air over your exposed skin for a brief moment, the absence of touch not lasting long. 

You jerked, feeling his tongue swipe a slow strip up from your wet entrance, gathering your slick. He lewdly spat it back over your clit and sucked until you cried out. Terry ate you without abandon, with little regard for any manners, overtaken by his own greed. --

“I missed how you taste, baby.” Voice muffled in between your legs, his eyes flitted up at you, earnest as always. Terry’s grip maintained the underside of your thighs, keeping your legs spread so he could continue to steal all breath and sense from you. 

“Oh my God,” you moaned. Your brain and your body sounded an alarm, reeling with the increasing need for release. His name fell like a chant from your mouth. 

Two fingers pushing into you caused the band to snap, Terry immediately seeking the button that left you gushing. He was unaffected when your heel dug deep at his shoulder, urging his face further in your pussy as if it was possible. His fingertips sped in pace, turning your mewls into high-pitched squeals. 

Soon enough, your back bowed with the intensity of your orgasm. He tightened his hold, keeping you steady as the current flowed through you. “That’s my girl,” he kissed and licked you through it. Pleasure never reached a precipice when you were under his care, and you shouted to the heavens.

When your legs eventually deflated, your hands found his ears, rubbing behind them gingerly. A grunt slipped from his mouth.

Terry staggered to his feet, hooded eyes glazed over your heaving body. His teeth nipped between your breasts over your shirt, up to your collarbone and your neck. You hooked a leg around his waist, pulling him in to feel his erection prod at your inner thigh. 

Instinctively, he rutted up against you and you sighed. You were warm all over, sheeted with sweat and clenching around nothing, wanting only to be full of him. 

His lips left your jawline and found your mouth, luring you into a mind-numbing kiss. You cradled Terry’s face in your hands and took control, allowing your tongue to slot against his. It felt all the more indulgent, the lingering taste of chocolate on your lips mixed with your own arousal. 

He was still rubbing on your leg and it only intensified your need for connection. Like a minx, you curled into him, purring in his ear. “Terry, I need you. Please.” 

Your hands lowered to explore the solid planes of his body, all of its beautiful ridges and scars. He leant down so his forehead was touching yours. “Fuck, I need you too, baby. Been losing my damn mind about you,” he breathed.

Terry yanked at the waistband on his joggers and his dick sprung free. You two didn’t usually forgo protection but your cycle was around the corner, and desperation made your judgment very foggy. 

His fingers splayed under your shirt to grasp at your plush waist, thumbing the folds of your belly from where you sat. Terry pushed his way inside, coating himself to about half of his length. You sighed into his hold, legs locked at his torso, trying, and failing to meet him in the middle. 

Without much effort, he stilled your movements. Terry pulled out slowly, and slapped himself over your clit twice, leaving you to squirm pitifully. “Stop teasing and just fuck me, already,” you whined.

Terry did as told and burrowed into you in one, deep thrust. You ate your words in a choked gasp. His head cocked back as he felt your walls squeezing him, putting the cords of his neck on full display. 

Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you tried desperately to hold on to the thread of resolve you had left. Terry trampled on it when he set a brutal pace, drilling in you like you owed him something. Your ears were ringing with your own moans and the sounds of skin slapping against each other. It all felt like too much, far too soon. 

You pressed a hand to his chest feebly and whimpered. Promptly, he grabbed your trembling forearm and kissed the inside of your wrist. “I’m fucking you like you wanted, huh? Why you tryna run from me?”

“It’s t-too, m-much,” your words were slurring and you frowned through the pleasure, hoping he’d give you relief from his punishing strokes. That all too familiar storm brewed in your belly again and you couldn’t stifle any noise that left your lips. Each thrust brushed against that sensitive spot within you, and you try your might to stave off your climax. 

His stare was focused on you, utterly enamored by your carnal state. “Terry!” You wailed, slapping the countertop behind you and shifting to scoot away. The crack of his hand on the side of your ass rang loud and welled your eyes with fresh, salty tears. Terry landed a sweltering kiss on your lips to pacify you. 

He gripped you by the coils at the nape of your neck, and you blinked at him, huffing out shattered breaths. You wanted to ask him why he was fucking you like this, and what did you ever do to deserve it. But your brain could only compute expletives. You clenched and unclenched around him greedily, and his teeth clashed at the sensation.

“Stop holding back, I can feel it. Let that shit go.” And under his spell, you did, surmounting to a shaking ball in his arms. Your toes curled at his sides and his rhythm didn’t falter, his own release not far behind. You keeled with overstimulation, the air feeling sticky on your skin.

Terry’s hands abandoned your waist to cup your ass, bouncing you on his dick in hardy, final thrusts. You bite down his shoulder so you don’t scream loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood. His head is buried in the crook of your neck now, sweat dripping on your collar. 

“‘Gonna make me cum all in this tight pussy, fuckk,” he groaned, ropes of his release starting to spurt inside of you. Your body was taut around him as his hips slowed to a halt. You were filled to the brim.

“My pretty baby did so good. So perfect for me,” Terry was panting like he just finished a mile-run, and still chose to sing your praises. He softened and pulled out, a part of you now missing. You sat there for a beat to catch your breaths, limbs still tangled together.

“Mm..’can’t stop shaking,” you whispered.

His actions had left you exhausted, drowsiness coated in every blink of your eyes. Terry separated from you for a second and he had his pants back on, scooping you up in his arms. You latched onto him like a bear, nuzzling into his chest.

If it was up to you, you’d pass out right there and crawl to bed in the morning. Something squished against his foot on his trudge out of the kitchen. 

“Shit, my socks are wet…what is that?” 

Ice cream.

--

Author’s Note: Just wanted to drop my contribution to the Terry Richmond industrial complex.

P.S. This was supposed to be Trainer!Terry but my hormone monster won. 

As always if you made it to the end, thank you bunches!

[caileeflavoured]

typewriting hands

ben mears x fem!reader

© caileeflavoured 2024, do not repost, modify or translate!

synopsis: Watching Ben write his book all afternoon, you soon become bored and need to find a way to get him away from his damn typewriter.

a/n: so idk what happened to the original post from 2022 but it disappeared and who am I to deny people my writing from when it was actually good (not to suck my own dick but I was cooking back then). I actually have no fucking idea what this thing was even about so I won't provide any tw's, therefore, read at your own risk (it's probably 18+ so...)

wc: 999 words

MAIN MATERLIST | SALEM'S LOT

The air inside his small room was hot and stuffy. Pearls of sweat covered your entire body as you lay on his bed, still proud of yourself that you managed to somehow sneak past Eva Miller, the house owner, and avoid her no-girls-joining-male-guests-rule. 

You watched him type away on his typewriter, the constant clicking sound creating a meditative energy around you. Yet you weren’t as calm as you’d expected to be when you initially agreed to spending your free afternoon with Ben.

Your eyes wandered up and down his bare back, analyzing the way his muscles moved so elegantly and manly with each letter he pressed onto the paper. The light sheen of sweat made it glisten so perfectly, and with the slowly setting sun shining its warm light onto his light skin, he seemed to you like an angel sent to this awful town.

“Will you ever tell me what you’re writing?” You eventually interrupted the silence.

But Ben continued typing, a true master at ignoring exactly this question, no matter who asked.

You groaned, annoyed and bored as you rolled from your stomach onto your back, your short dress riding up your waist in the process. The faint breath of air coming from the open window hit your bare legs and crawled all the way up to your lower stomach.

You groaned again, this time on purpose, and with the intent to get his attention. You moved your head to the side, your cheek touching the hot covers of his bed as you watched him pause his writing for a second and rise his head before he eventually resumed the typing.

“Isn’t your afternoon writing session over already?” You asked as you looked at the clock hanging above the door. 

“Not yet,” was his simple, emotionless answer.

You were frustrated, growing needier for him the longer you watched his naked body. You hadn’t seen him in a while, and missed the feeling of his body pressed against yours. But even more so did you miss the simple sensation of sexual arousal, preferably caused by Ben.

So you had no chance but to help yourself out.

You pushed your panties down your legs and threw them towards him. He watched them fall to the ground next to his chair, but still didn’t care to give you any reaction.

“It’s so hot,” you whined, and that frustrated whine quickly changed and turned into a lewder one the moment your hand came into contact with your swollen clit.

All those thoughts about him and the memories of what he’d already done to you ever since he arrived in ‘Salem’s Lot a few weeks ago surely and obviously had an effect on you. They riled you up, leaving you needier than ever. 

Your fingers rubbed circles on your clit as you purposely put on a little show for him, not holding back any moans despite knowing of all the other guests in Eva Miller’s place. They already looked at Ben in a funny way anyway, they wouldn’t dare to ask any more questions if they heard female moans coming from his room.

His name fell from your lips as you indulged in the sweet pleasure coursing through your body. You felt that knot in your stomach tighten more and more as you brought yourself closer to your high, but it wasn’t just quite the same when it wasn’t Ben’s hand.

“Come join me,” you whimpered in between the moans, your eyes always glued to his muscular back, waiting for the moment he’d finally turn around.

But nothing. He shrugged his shoulders, seemingly immersed in writing his new book. 

Ugh, loving an author turned out to be anything but a whirlwind romance.

“You’re so- oh fuck! You’re so boring,” you cried out, feeling how you pushed yourself nearly over the edge.

“Uh-huh,” Ben commented, clearly not even listening to what was going on behind his back. 

“I- ugh! I’m so close, Ben,” you whimpered. “I’m gonna come!” And you did.

Your moans turned into high-pitched cries, your eyes never leaving his figure as the intense orgasm washed over you and then — finally. 

The typewriter’s clicking sounds could no longer be heard, and that was not because you drowned them out. No, the constant movement of his fingers had actually come to a halt, and his head turned slightly to the side — yet not far enough to catch a glimpse of your fucked-out frame.

Chest heaving, legs still slightly shaking, beads of sweat running down your temples, and a devilish little smile on your lips.

“You know I got more in me, Benny,” you challenged him. 

And finally won this round.

He got up from his chair, his erection already straining against his underwear, and walked up to you. “On your knees,” he demanded, his voice much darker and raspier than just moments ago.

You crawled up to the author, sitting right in front of him as he wished. Your eyes traveled over his sweaty torso, and down to his crotch, pure lust filling your eyes. 

Ben placed two fingers underneath your chin, tilting your head up to make you look into his eyes. The blue was already gone, his pupils so dilated you didn’t know if you’d ever seen them like that.

He licked his lips as he traced the curve of yours with his thumb, then pulled your face up to his. He trapped you in a longing, passionate kiss, immediately all tongue and teeth.

“Guess Eva Miller and her no-sex-rule can go to hell now,” you chuckled against his lips as your hand wandered down his bare abs and into his boxers.

It surely was going to be Ben Mears who could go to hell once the old lady caught wind of it, but the only thing he seemed to care about now was to make his little girl come a second time. And a third, and a fourth, and maybe even a fifth one.

Typewriting hands rarely got tired...

[agendabymooner]

pag-ibig, traducido (love, translated) || cs55 fic

carlos sainz x ofc (filipino!content creator!ofc)

EXTENSION TO RIDE HOME

Summary: Magdalena ‘Magda’ and Carlos Sainz can bring the two worlds together through words and actions. OR, moments in which the Filipino woman and her Spanish husband learned to love each other while learning more about what they know about themselves. 

Content warning: Use of explicit language, shitty Tagalog/Filipino and Spanish translations, a lot of Spanish colonial and Filipino history jokes, parental abandonment, brief reference to religious and cultural practice (weddings), mentions elopement, secret marriage, briefly mentions PR relationships/girlfriends, time skipping, what is beta reading lol

Note: The last part of this story is loosely based on the idea given to me by @clairalle and the song 'Paninindigan Kita' by Ben&Ben so thank you so much! ❤️

Letting you all know that some Filipino dialogue here are translated based on how I know it in both English and Tagalog language??? And also, there are some words in here that are the same in context BUT written in two different spellings - some of the words are spelled based on phonics or how it sounds. Enjoy xx

masterlist

i. 2016 — shit, ayos ka lang?

Ramona Magdalena normally had the patience for Tesco. She wasn’t sure what it was, but everything had her seething with no apparent reason. She tried to figure out what went wrong. 

It was only 3 p.m., for goodness sake! 

Her third year at the university was supposed to make things easier, but the way she clenched at the handle of her shopping cart as she sped through the aisles of Tesco showed nothing of the sort. 

She was so tense, her jaw clenching as she asked herself repeatedly if there was an actual reason for her getting worked up over something. 

Her mother, Alma, was being herself; she was merely calling to see how the university was for Magda. Alma only told Magda about her cousins in the Philippines and how they were looking forward to getting the “balikbayan” box in August, only for the younger woman to respond grumpily. Alma was a dear— so clearly Magda’s grumpiness had nothing to do with her mother’s daily check-in. 

She appreciated her mother’s efforts to keep up with Magda’s well-being; after all, Alma did everything she could as a single parent who immigrated to the UK long before she took Magda. 

So no. She loved her mother so much that she wouldn’t get unreasonably cranky towards her. Not easily, at least. 

But her questions withered away when her speed walking was interrupted by her shopping cart crashing into a figure. Her eyes widened, and she shook herself out of her thoughts. 

“Mierda!” Shit! An accent escaped out of the man’s mouth. 

Now, Magda had been a citizen of the UK for a while now— she knew when to speak English and how to utilize her vocabulary in a reasonable manner. But everything seemed to be in panic mode as she exclaimed, “Shit! Ayos ka lang?” Are you okay?

The man was still groaning, bent over as he clutched to his stomach. He glared at her for a moment as he asked, “¿Por qué no observas a dónde vas?” Why can’t you watch where you are going?

“Hah?” She cocked her head slightly. She only picked up on the first two words. Por qué? Why? 

He’s Spanish, Magda deduced. She stepped away from the cart and walked towards him, “I’m so, so, so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going—“

“Obviously—“ he muttered hastily, still touching his aching side. 

“I’m also in a rush, and I’m so frustrated and tired. Three years into adulthood and I can’t make shit right,” Magda hadn’t even realized that she was ranting to a stranger as she rambled, “GCSE clearly didn’t do shit to me because I’m still here bitching about what to cook— punyeta naman kasi, ‘di ba.” What the fuck, am I right?

He stared at her for a moment, not even interrupting her as she spoke. But the silence made Magda pause as her face flushed red, earning a soft smirk from the man. “Mama said I have a problem with speaking too much without thinking.” 

He chuckled at her rambling before sticking his hand out, “We can call it… truce— I think is the word?” 

“Yeah, okay, truce,” she reached out and introduced herself while shaking his hand, “I’m Magdalena.” 

“I’m Carlos.” 

“So, like… you’re Spanish, right? Or do you just speak Español? I’ve only picked up on some words because they’re quite similar— or I suppose I learned it through some song from years ago.” 

“I am actually Spanish; good guess. And you said puñeta— I can assume you also speak Español?” 

“Oh, hah, about that— no. That’s not spoken in Spanish. That’s— yeah, that’s something.” 

ii. 2017 — irog means love

“Ate Magda! Totoo ba?” Is it true?

“Jowa mo galing Spain?” Your boyfriend is from Spain? 

Magda almost died laughing as she FaceTimed her cousins, who were certainly supposed to be asleep at this time. The Philippines was seven hours ahead, and with her cousins being awake at two in the morning, she could assume that they had a holiday. Everybody always sleeps in if it’s a long weekend or a national holiday. 

But she hadn’t expected their night to be spent gossiping about Magdalena’s boyfriend, Carlos. 

“Niño, bakit ‘di mo gamitin yang utak mo sa school kaysa sa jowa ko?” Why don’t you use your brain for school instead of my boyfriend? Magda huffed out her laugh, making her other cousin Paloma laugh next to Niño. Paloma’s laughter caught Magda off guard as she called out, “Oi, Lomi, don’t be laughing— ikaw ang nagpasimuno nito. Akala mo ‘di ko alam?” You started this. You think I didn’t know?

“Papa brought it up,” Paloma defended herself with a cry, “he kept calling you a national hero, and I had to ask why.” 

“Ano ba naman ‘yan,” what the hell. Magdalena cried out as her head slumped against the couch, raising it to look at her cousins on the screen, “Tell your papa to keep his mouth shut. I love Tito Gerry— I do, but he needs to stop making jokes about that.” 

“—About what?” Magda seemed to be more drawn towards her uncle’s joke that she hadn’t heard her boyfriend enter her flat with a curious look. He had just arrived from Milton Keynes, and this was a surprise as he normally arrived later than this. 

Carlos had taken off his shoes and placed his bag down, walking around the couch to sit next to Magda as he pecked her lips. “Hello, cariño. How was your day?” 

“Hm, good! I’ve finished my paper,” Magda grinned. 

They were so caught up with each other that the only thing they heard was gagging from the phone that the Filipino woman held. Magda and Carlos peered down on the screen as they watched the two teens exaggerate at the sight of the couple being too sweet for each other. 

“Reparations,” Paloma gagged jokingly, “but at what cost?” 

“Matulog na nga kayo!” Go to sleep! Magda exclaimed.

“Okay po, master,” Niño rolled his eyes before waving at the camera, “nice meeting you, Carlitos!” 

"You're Niño, right?" Carlos grinned as he kept his face in front of the camera before waving, "Nice meeting you too!"

“Yeah! Buenas noches, Don Carlos!” Good night, sir Carlos! Paloma giggled, the other side of the call abruptly ending before Magda could berate the pair even further.

She sighed heavily and tossed her phone aside, giving her boyfriend a look of despair as he giggled at her. 

“What did they mean by reparations?” He asked her, genuinely curious at what they were joking about. 

How was she going to explain it to him? Did they even teach at Spanish schools about their country’s history of colonialism? Magda didn’t have an answer to that. 

“Oh, just you know…” She mumbled, “Filipinos were originally Spanish people living in the Philippines. Apparently, dating you made us a deadly combination. Enemies to lovers, or whatever trope that is.”

“Reparations? Oh… OH!” Carlos exclaimed in realization, earning a nod from his girlfriend as he murmured, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah, I understand now, mi corazon.” 

“Irog,” Carlos said aloud, making Magda hum in a questioning tone. “Irog, bébé.”

“What’s that, bé?” Magda asked mindlessly as she stared at the screen of her computer. 

Carlos turned his head in her direction as he said, “I don’t know. You’re the one who speaks the language.” 

She paused from doing her work, looking up at him before she pondered the first word he brought up. Then she let out an ‘ah’ before nodding. 

“So…? What does that mean?” Carlos asked. One year of relationship and his thirst for knowledge was an obvious factor that came with it.

“It means mahal,” Magda answered, remembering the word. She continued to read Filipino literature as she grew, not wanting to stay away from it regardless of the fact that she spent her last school years in a British school. She asked her mother questions whenever she didn’t have a single clue what a word meant, so this was a helpful thing to do, especially now that Carlos continued to ask her to teach him how to speak her language. 

“Mahal, like expensive?” Carlos asked for clarification. 

Magda shook her head, “No, not that mahal. Like mahal— you, mahal.” 

“Oh,” Carlos let out before he reiterated what she said, “mahal, like love?” 

“Yes, mahal,” she snickered quietly, calling him by the term of endearment. “Like love.” 

“So irog means love?” 

“Yes, bébé. Irog means love.”

iii. 2018 — patata, patatas. what’s the difference? 

“Oh! Hey, Mr. Alonso, you’re here just in time,” Magdalena grinned. The older man, who just arrived, shot her a confused look as she stood there with her lips spread out to a grin.

“Magda, hija, call me Fernando. It’s also nine in the morning,” Fernando Alonso sighed quietly, his hand running through his face as he looked back at the girl in the white McLaren shirt. “I think it’s too early for your optimism.” 

“You’re right,” Magda’s shoulders slumped, and her smile fell, her face showing nothing but defeat as she walked towards the Spaniard, “but don’t let my sadness get in the way of your duties today. My supervisor said that you have to do your filming for the next two videos of the channel— and you cannot, I mean CANNOT, back out this time.” 

“I can’t,” Fernando smirked playfully, “or can I?” 

“Mr. Alonso, with all due respect,” Magda sighed heavily, “I started this year. And if you continue to ditch your duties because I cannot convince you enough then I’m going to have to leave not of my own will. I did not last four years at the university just so I can have a manchild act so sassily at the person who’s merely trying her best, so please—“

“Calmaté, Magdalena. Are you okay?” Calm down. Fernando asked, reiterating his question and emphasizing the word you. 

Magda had anything but an answer; her lips pursed as she shook her head. “Can I… shit. Sorry, can I be excused for a moment? It's been a morning for me.” 

“Take all the time you need, querida,” Fernando told her with a smile, patting her on the shoulder as she gave him a grateful look before she walked out of the McLaren garage with a heave of sigh. 

Fernando Alonso pursed his lips as he caught sight of the young British reserved driver, calling him with a whistle as Lando Norris looked in his direction with a questioning expression.

“Norris, you know Carlos Sainz, yes?” Fernando asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Lando replied with a nod. “He’s a friend of mine.”

“Do me a favour, if you don’t mind,” Fernando requested, “will you please tell him Magdalena’s on break?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Lando obliged before his curiosity got the best of him as he asked, “Is she alright?” 

“I think McLaren broke her.”

“Leche,” she swore quietly as she stood behind the McLaren motorhome. Thankfully, nobody else was there to witness her on the verge of breaking down. Otherwise, that would have been embarrassing. 

She had a bad habit of pleasing people. Living in the Philippines, with her mother working overseas and her biological father being a dickhead fuck knew where Magdalena grew up wanting to appease her friends and family. Her immediate family cared very little about the achievements she reached — they were proud, sure, but how she got there was beyond what they wanted for her.

Some kids who grew up in a Filipino household aimed to please, and Magda wasn’t an exception to that. She, however, did more than what she should have been doing. All thanks to the father she had never interacted with before or ever.

Much like now. She aimed to please. Maybe that was why she got to this predicament now; crouching with her head down as she tried to keep her composure. 

She knew that everyone would kill to be in her place— working for a racing team. But for some reason, her urge to please was replaced by her fear of discomfort and disappointment. Being in a relationship with a Formula One driver taught her a lot about the sport, and she landed herself a job in a team based in England.

Being able to travel with him was a plus, but she felt that she had disappointed him. She didn’t feel as good as he told her she would when she first announced McLaren’s offer to hire her for the season. 

Was this what most Formula One wives and partners felt? Or have they embraced that lifestyle long before the drivers became so popular? She wouldn’t make a good girlfriend for everyone should they find out that she had nothing but anxiety in her system as she graced the grid with her presence. 

She was a disappointment of a Carlos Sainz fan.

His cologne lingered in the air as she witnessed him crouch down in her level, his fingers pulling her hair tie off her head, letting her long dark brown hair fall as she smiled grimly. 

He was in his Renault fireproof, his race suit hanging off his waist. He made things more angelic than normal, and she loved him so much for it. His lips pursed as his fingers continued to massage her scalp. 

“Few more months, mi vida,” Carlos murmured, his soothing voice making her feel at home. “You’re doing so good for them. Don’t let them say otherwise.” 

Sure, she could be at the hotel with Ben&Ben blasting on her phone and her figure crying in the bathtub. She could be falling into the deepest depth of her sadness, but with Carlos ditching his team before the free practice — she would rather be here than be in their shared hotel room. 

“Now c’mon, mi corazon,” he pulled her up, “I’ve managed to get my manager to come drop off some pancit to the motorhome from the hospitality.”

“Pancit?” 

“Malabon,” Carlos beamed at her, pressing his lips to her forehead. “One of the caterers gladly took my request to have some pancit malabon at the menu. It took them a couple of weeks until they finally got tired of my constant asking.”

“Hm, you’re the best, my love,” Magda told him lovingly. “Though, I prefer palabok, remember?” 

“Eh,” Carlos paused, “patata, patatas. What’s the difference? Pancit is pancit, mi amor.”

iv. 2019 — magda, maldita 

“Carlos, bebe, mahal kita. Mahal kita sobra.” I love you. I love you so much. Magda sighed as she glanced over the notepad that her fiancé left on the end table of the side of her bed— their brainstorming notepad. “But do you really want to get married in a church? In the Philippines while you’re at it?” 

“It’s an idea, mi amor,” Carlos said while he continued to do whatever he was doing in the bathroom, making her listen from the bed as he spoke, “Just how bad is it?” 

“It’s nothing bad,” Magda said quietly, “it’s just something that I wouldn’t personally do. There is a lot of paperwork to do when getting married in a church. Did you know that? Not only that, but we’d have to attend seminars about family planning— which is not right up my alley, seeing as my mother is an unmarried single mother.” 

“Paperwork is what you are worried about?” 

“Why can’t we just elope instead? My Lola grandmother and Lolo grandfather did that, and look— they have my mom, my tito uncle and tita aunt,” she suggested out of the blue. 

“And risk getting killed by either of our mothers?” Carlos scoffed, “I think we should stick to the church idea, yes, mi amor?” 

“Did you not hear the story of my grandparents, love?” Magda asked him, thankful that he couldn’t see the baffled look on her face. 

“More than I can count, mi corazon,” Carlos answered, “they ran away from home, didn’t they? Got married and had your Tia Maria, then your Mama after? They eloped because they weren’t close with their families— but we’re both very close to ours. We can’t do what your grandparents did.” 

She sighed. He wasn’t even wrong. 

The Spaniard walked out of the bathroom, his face now clean-shaven as he sat next to his fiancée. “Look, we don’t have to do the church thing. It was just an idea, hm? I know you don’t want to get married in the Philippines either, so that’s alright. We’ll just send your cousins, your aunt and uncle to wherever we’re going, then we’ll get married. Don’t worry too much.” 

“‘M sorry,” Magda murmured, her fingers fidgeting with the gold engagement ring as she continued, “I’m a killjoy.” 

“No, you’re not,” Carlos huffed out and clasped his hand with her left hand, “you’re the bride. The bride is more than permitted to weigh out the options. If you don’t want the Philippines, that’s okay.

“Truthfully, I just want to marry you,” Carlos murmured as he pulled her closer, “if we didn’t have such scary mothers, I would’ve already married you. You and your YouTube channel.” 

Magda’s chuckle vibrated in his chest as she perched on his lap, “I don’t even know if that will even work out.” 

“I am sure the wedding plans will. If it doesn’t, our marriage certainly will work out for you and your channel.”

“You are a dickhead, mahal.” “I can’t speak the truth now?” 

“There was no need to bring up the channel, dumbass.”

“Mabuti nalang may passport yung mga pinsan mo,” It’s a good thing that your cousins have passports. Alma San Pedro, Magdalena’s mother, brought up as she sat across the aforementioned woman.

Magda skimmed through the spreadsheet laid out on her laptop’s screen, keeping her eyes on the things Carlos typed out on the guest list as he actively listed who’s responsible for the catering.

Alma continued to speak, “Why didn’t you want to get married in the Philippines? You’ve always wanted to get married in the Tayabas basilica— I could have had your Tita Marie look into it.”

“That was mainly because I thought you got married there,” Magda glanced at her mother before leaving a comment on the name that Carlos had just typed down on the guest list sheet.

“Lando Norris” — Magda San Pedro (monamagsp) commented: “He finally RSVP’d?”

Carlos Sainz (carlossz) replied: “Yes. He said he forgot to do it, but I managed to get him to fill it.”

He was still at Monaco for the race, but between the busy days of partying and racing he decided to abandon his friends and stayed at the hotel to plan his wedding with Magda instead. “Besides, Ma, the wedding’s in two months. Travelling is also time-consuming for most of us.”

“You’re so picky, anak,” child. Alma replied with a playful scoff.

“And you’re not married, Mama,” Magda shot back with the same amount of humour in her tone. “People complain about both, but we can’t find ourselves to care, hm?”

“Hay nako, Ramona Magdalena,” Alma rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. A rhetorical question escaped her mouth, “Bakit ka kaya maldita?” Why are you so cheeky/sassy? 

Mona shrugged, “Tita Maria didn’t take any shit from my private school teachers, Ma. She’s the one who took care of me while you worked here, remember? Go figures.”

“I can’t believe you’ve invited me to the wedding,” Lando’s eyes glimmered under the warm light of the ballroom hall as he excitedly spoke to Magda. “I know we didn’t speak as much last year, but the fact that you allowed Carlos to invite me? I’m so grateful, mate.”

Magdalena San Pedro— or wait, Magdalena Sainz stood across from the British man with a grin as she tucked her hands into her pockets (she had pockets on her wedding dress that she began to think that God was treating her right today).

The San Pedro-Sainz wedding ceremony took place in the Westin Palace of Madrid. With the hopes of celebrating the love that they shared for years, Carlos and Magdalena managed to get through the hour-long ceremony without a fuss. The romantic venue created an environment full of celebration while keeping it as intimate and private as it could be for their guests and themselves.

Carlos had already made his name known to the Formula One world, his talent being recognized by every fan as the season went on. But nobody knew who Magdalena was to him, and he intended to keep it that way — thus prompting him to keep his marriage a piece of confidential information. Everyone behind the scenes knew he was in a relationship, and with the hopes that he’d get even more popular, PR relationships were introduced and tossed in his way. 

None of the women he was put in the spotlight with ever lasted, and he was slowly earning the title of a Casanova. He didn’t care; he was just doing his duty and driving his car around the tracks while he worried about his partner, who now worked for a designing company based in London— where they both lived. Nobody else in the grid nor anyone in the motorsport community knew who he was romantically involved with. 

Magdalena was another story. She only began to record some videos about her lifestyle as she continued to work for some local designing firm, telling whoever was watching her videos about what she knew about this field of work or what kind of food she’d eat on certain occasions.

She wasn’t as popular as him, but she continued to keep his identity a secret. She lived an average life and she was quite content with it. She’d rather post a video of herself fucking around, but they’ve made a choice to stay private for as long as they could. 

Now Lando Norris was known to be a blabbermouth, but Magdalena had grown quite fond of him when he was still a reserved driver for McLaren as she worked as a PR coordinator for the team. They rarely spoke, sure, but she was certain that she could trust him with anything and he wouldn’t blab about it. Carlos was also friends with Lando, and they continued to be close friends, so Magda never protested against Carlos’ idea of inviting the younger man to the wedding. 

Lando then said, “I find it quite enjoyable— your wedding, I mean. It’s clearly not as big as I would have expected because well… Carlos told me that Filipino weddings are often big, but I love it! I’ve learned more about your wedding traditions than I have in sixth form about geography.”

“Gah, don’t even say that,” Magda rolled her eyes, earning a giggle from Lando as the woman continued, “It’s barely there, I think. We tried not to pour our hearts out into what they would normally practice in the Philippines or here in Spain. Some Filipino things are here — the food, my dress and my family — but it’s just something superficial, you know?” 

“It’s not even just the wedding that taught me a lot!” Lando exclaimed as he laughed, “Your cousins, Lomi, Niño and Lucia? Yeah, I sat with them during the whole ceremony so they kept telling me about wedding traditions and some superstitions: like how you shouldn’t have any relative marry at the same time as you because it’s cursed.” 

“Really? I’m surprised they haven’t said anything mundane,” Magda saw Lando nod at her statement.

“They also started to say that you took one for the team—“ Lando’s forehead creased as he said, “I asked them what they meant by that, then they only said you’re heroic.” 

“Diyos ko.” My god. Magda scoffed. Her cousins spelled nothing but trouble and god did she despise them at times. 

“What? What did that mean, Mags?” Lando asked.

Magda sighed exasperatedly, and with a defeated tone, she answered, “Making up for the challenge we’ve lost, apparently.” 

“Huh?” 

“It’s— just ask Carlitos,” Magda waved off, “I’ve had to explain the concept of colonialism to too many people before. I think it’s time Carlos did it for me.”

v. 2024 — paninindigan kita (stand by you)

Mamahalin kita buong-buo. I will love you completely.

“So, tell us about yourself.”

“I’m Carlos Sainz— or wait, do you want me to speak Tagalog?” The Ferrari driver asked as he stood in front of the camera, his linen shirt in the view of the lens as he waited to be instructed.

“Directing this music video is the dumbest idea I could’ve ever made,” Magda deadpanned from behind the camera as the videography crew laughed alongside the band members, her voice being picked up by the microphone easily.

Their Philippines trip, which they should’ve made a while ago, was something of an experience for the couple.

It was the first time they’d been seen in public— with everyone finding out about their marriage after Carlos’ Instagram story slip-up when he accidentally posted a photo of Magdalena’s selfie that she sent when she travelled to the country long before this. 

It really was an accident if you were to ask him. But it was something inevitable, and all Magda could do was laugh and make her presence known not only to her fans but to those who were more than interested to know about her. His fans. 

Now, they were in an Airbnb somewhere in the Quezon Province as they filmed some form of documentary. It was meant to be a storytelling music video about their relationship and the romance that came with it, but after seeing Carlos’ script reading at the Shell commercial, Magda practically banned him from acting.

She was a popular content creator in the Philippines regardless of her living situation; she lived in Madrid with her husband for almost five years. And with her popularity in the Philippines came acquaintances who were more than willing to collaborate with her. The folk-pop band called Ben&Ben asked if she was more than willing to shoot a music video with them. Direct it, even. 

The song they released practically spoke about her life with Carlos. At first, she didn’t think too much of the lyrics and just enjoyed the rhythm of the song, then she realized how similar it was to their relationship, from the courtship (and her outward refusal to continue this romance with him at the very beginning) to their vows to love each other as they grow old, and decided that perhaps it was time to show to the world how they truly love each other. 

Carlos agreed, knowing that outside of his life as a Ferrari driver and a Formula One figure, he had nothing else in life but her and her alone. He knew that she was the one thing that he kept from everyone to provide security for his wife. He waited patiently for her — and it was now paying off. Now, he was standing in front of a camera, waiting to be filmed for his interview. 

It was better than the countless documentaries and the Netflix series that he had to do interviews and filming duties for. Because this time, he got to discuss his wife, Magdalena Sainz, instead of his car. 

“Can I speak Tagalog?” Carlos repeated, his typical confused expression being displayed before the others.

Magda shook her head, “You’ll butcher it, Carlitos.”

“Excuse me, Ramona,” Carlos gasped in mock offence. “I can speak it!” 

“Clearly not good enough,” Magda shot back, making the others laugh at the banter between the pair. 

“Your Español isn’t any better then, mi vida,” Carlos scoffed, placing his hand on his chest. 

Magda said, “There’s a reason why I only listen to you and your family when you speak, honey.” 

“This is what I have to deal with every day, by the way,” Carlos pointed out to their audience, making the others burst out laughing as he offered his wife a playful glare. 

One of the videographers spoke before Magda could make a comeback, “Wait, the camera’s still on.”

“Oh shit,” Carlos and Magda both swore before they both laughed. Their banter was caught on camera and they were laughing about it.

It took them good ten seconds to return to their composure as the camera stopped recording. 

Magda cleared her throat, clapping her hands as the camera began recording, and she instructed her husband, “Carlos, we can both speak English— it’s fine. Just speak in English, alright?” 

“Okay, fine,” Carlos rolled his eyes and muttered, “mi esposa. Muy quisquilloso.” My wife. So picky. The microphone attached to his shirt picked up on his comment.

“This is so going to the music video,” one of the band members giggled. 

Magda then continued with the recording segment as she spoke to her husband while she stood behind the camera, “Alright, please state your name and how long you have been with your partner?” 

Carlos nodded and beamed slightly as he stared back at Magda, who was smiling as she expected his answer. With a cheerful tone, he said, “My name is Carlos Sainz. I have been with my wife, Magdalena San Pedro Sainz, for seven years and three months and have been married to her for four years and six months.” 

“What prompted you to stand by her?” Magda asked as she continued to beam at him, not even noticing the heart eyes of the other people in the room. 

Eight years and still extremely in love. 

He answered, “Her determination, wits and her ability to stand by me no matter what kind of disaster came and went made me realize that falling in love with her was worth the effort to make.”

It was no wonder people thought their relationship had nothing to do with two worlds colliding.

Even with their constant light bickering, Magdalena and Carlos Sainz learned how to love each other through words — whether it was their native languages or their secondary ones. What mattered was that they understood the meaning of their love, regardless of what kind of language they had to translate it to.

fin.

[spectacled-renegade-writes]

Boyfriends... - Ben 10

Description: Something Ben did has Rook questioning human customs. So, he calls Gwen to ask if it's normal.

Relationships: Rook/Ben, Gwen/Kevin, Rook&Gwen

Tags: Humor, Fluff, Friendship

Ao3: Here

-

Rook could not conceivably believe that this was normal human behavior. So, in times such as these, he called Gwen – she was always a reliable source of information. After leaving Ben’s house for the day, Rook got into his Proto-Truk and dialed Gwen’s number while driving back to headquarters.

“Hello?” Gwen’s voice sounded through the cabin after three rings.

“Hello, Gwen.” Rook replied, focusing on the road. “Apologies if I have interrupted anything, but I have a question I need to ask you.”

Over the phone Rook could hear footsteps and a door closing, then Gwen said seriously, “You didn’t interrupt anything. Is everything okay?”

It had not been Rook’s intention to worry her, and it suddenly occurred to him that he had probably sounded very cryptic. “Everything is quite well,” he replied evenly. “I merely have a question regarding human behavior I was hoping you could answer.”

Gwen laughed over the phone. “And here I was stepping away because you sounded so serious.”

“I am sorry for the distress.”

“Misunderstanding, not distress,” Gwen corrected, amused. “What’s your question?”

Once again reminded about why he called, Rook grimaced. “Ben did something while we were at his house that perplexed me, and I was hoping you could tell me if this is normal.” Gwen remained silent, which prompted Rook to continue. “We decided to have a movie date at his house, and after the first movie ended he told me that I could choose the next one.”

“How is that weird?” Gwen asked.

“It is not,” Rook replied. “It is what happened after that I found weird. While I searched for a movie Ben got up from the couch and went to the kitchen.”

“Uh huh? And?”

“Well, when he returned, he held a plate that had a single pancake on it. He proceeded to sit back down and eat it in silence. When I went to the kitchen I found that there were no other pancakes, which means that Ben measured out the ingredients for a single pancake and did not offer to make me any.” Rook paused. “Perhaps I am overthinking this but it seemed very odd at the moment.”

“I swear, sometimes I think boyfriends aren’t worth the trouble,” Gwen sighed over the phone. She sounded rather exasperated in Rook’s option. “No, Rook, that is not normal human behavior at all.”

“That is a relief.” Rook smiled. “I was beginning to think I was overreacting.”

“I can assure you, you weren’t.” Gwen laughed. “You want to hear something Kevin did the other night?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Get this,” Gwen began. “Like two nights ago I woke up to Kevin calling my name. When I opened my eyes, the clock on my nightstand read three in the morning!”

“Something must have been wrong.” Rook frowned.

“That’s what I thought too,” Gwen agreed. “But when I asked what was wrong he replied, ‘nothing. Here, babe. I brought you a rib’.”

Rook blinked. “Wait… what?”

“I had the same thought! Apparently Kevin was slow cooking some ribs and I guess they were done in the middle of the night. We ended up eating ribs in bed at three in the morning. It was the weirdest experience ever!”

Rook did not know what to say to that. It was indeed odd. So, he said the only thing he could think of. “Did they taste good?”

“They were delicious!” Gwen yelled. “But that’s not the point.”

“I agree,” Rook nodded. “Not the point.”

“You know, Rook. Sometimes I wonder if you didn’t get the idiot gene all boys have since you’re not human. Either that or you weren’t dropped on your head as a baby.”

“Ben and Kevin were dropped on their heads as babies?” Rook frowned. “That is much cause for concern. Do you know if they suffered any brain damage?”

“I don’t think they actually were,” Gwen smiled over the phone. “That’s just my working theory on why they can be such idiots sometimes.”

“Still,” Rook hummed. “We love them anyway.”

“Yeah,” Gwen agreed. “We do love them anyway.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: If you know you know ;)

No but this literally came to me at 1 in the morning, and it is the dumbest thing I have ever written. Please, move forth with your night/day and think no more of this silly little one-shot

[sizebrained]

Halloween Party, Part 1

The siblings get dressed up and go to a Halloween Costume Party, well most of them. Also technically #gtober2024 No. 29 - Costume!

CW: Adult themes, language, suggestive

*** Sam knocked on the Ben's door. She wanted to surprise him with her costume like they were trick-or-treaters.

Earlier that Halloween morning, when Sam had come over to Ben's for breakfast, she went over their plans for the night and refused to tell him what she was going as yet again. "It's a surprise! Cob and I are going as a...well...our costumes are a package." Sam said earlier that day. She had almost said "couple." Sam had almost that her and Cob were going in a couples costume.

That wasn't exactly accurate, the pair weren't really dating. But it also didn't feel like it was totally inaccurate. The two had gotten very close over the past few months. Very close.

They hadn't crossed a line...yet. But they'd gotten close. Very close.

And Sam had stopped sleeping around and having casual hookups like she used to before she met Cob. Sam knew that Cob had noticed. She wanted Cob to notice, hoped that they did. While they talked, Cob was fast asleep in the large front pocket of Sam's hooded sweatshirt. It was Ben's sweatshirt, but Ben had given up trying to get it back from Sam. Eight o'clock in the morning was far too early for Cob's liking, and they had come along from Sam's place only if they could keep sleeping in Sam's pocket. Sam suspected that it was actually Cob's preferred place to rest. Sam wasn't going to object. She liked having them safely tucked against her body. Very slowly and gently, Sam slipped one finger into a side of the pocket. She lightly touched Cob's body to make sure the 3 inch form was still asleep. The top of Cob's tiny head brushed against Sam's fingertip. The large human felt the little figure nuzzle against her skin before turning over and remaining still again.

Sam was sitting at Ben's kitchen counter looking over her patient notes and laptop. Ben was standing across from her on the other side of the expansive countertop surface.

He had his favorite large popcorn bowl cradled against his chest while he whisked 10 eggs together. It was getting a lot more use mixing eggs than popcorn these days.

Ever since Sam had him on a more rigorous workout regimen Ben had been eating nonstop. Hazel was flabbergasted that even someone his size could eat so much. She sometimes wondered if this was how the zookeepers in London felt tending to large mammals. Ben's cast had been off for nearly 3 months now and Sam had worked him into her schedule 4 times a week. Sam had several challenging patients in her master's externship for physical therapy, but most of her time seemed to go into Ben. "Ok but...I still don't know if I want to go...It's going to be crowded and..." Ben started saying before he was interrupted by both his sister and Hazel simaltaneously. "You are going!" The girls quickly called out nearly in unison. Ben winced.

Hazel was on Ben's left shoulder glaring at him more than Sam who didn't even bother to look up at him from her computer to yell. He groaned and turned his back to Sam to cook the eggs on the stovetop. "You know I can never find a costume that'll fit me anyway! What am I supposed to wear?" Ben protested at both of them staring at his eggs.

After he crossed Sam's height when he was still in high school, Ben gave up trying to dress up for Halloween all together. The last time he had dressed up for a Halloween party as a senior he went as Michael Jordan. It was easy and obvious, barely a costume just a jersey and shorts.

Hazel stayed silent as she was not very well versed in modern Halloween traditions. She thought it was rather silly and rooted in superstitions that were easily dismissed with proper reason and logic. Still, it was a holiday she found herself rather fond of amonst American traditions. Hazel could rely on seeing Mary happy every year it came around on the calendar. Her human companion would absolutely light up when children showed up at her doorstep to get sweets and show off their costumes. Mary had so longed for children, Hazel could feel her joy and sorrow at the same time through the revealing pact deep in her tiny body. "Who cares just put on some eye black and say you're the biggest linebacker in the NFL or something." Sam offered finally more focused on her paperwork in the moment. She froze. Ben did too. Ben had turned around to face his sister again waiting for her answer. When he got it, he suddenly turned his back to Sam. He felt terribly self conscious at the suggestion he could pass for a linebacker. Sam looked at his back apologetically. Ben had put on weight and he felt it made him look even bigger. It did make him look bigger. He looked more enormous than normal, like he was more of a threat to doorframes than ever before.

Sam knew it was a lot of muscle weight. But he hadn't done cardio like he used to when he played for a long time. He looked solid rather than lanky like he usually did before the accident. And he had grown out his naturally curly hair, which put a couple more inches on the top of his head than normal.

Sam actually thought he looked pretty healthy for once rather than his usual gaunt self. One year she teased he'd make an amazing Ichabod Crane. Sam couldn't care less about body sizes or types, she knew people came in all types and used to reveled in it, quite often, in the bedroom. So she didn't think suggesting linebacker was a bad thing. Seeing Ben's face as he turned and his heavy silence now, she knew that he did and she felt terrible. Sam instantly regretted her flippant suggestion and searched for a way to cover it up. "Or you know you could just go as LeBron or something Babe..." Sam suggested kicking herself for her insensitive suggestion. Ben stayed silent for several long moments that seemed like forever. "It's going to be so loud..." Ben said focused on his eggs with a frown, not even bothering to finish his thought. He wondered if he could just wear his noise cancelling headphones and claim to be a DJ or something. And hopefully melt into the walls. "And...You will be alright. It will be good for you to be around people at a party. I will be coming as well." Hazel said finishing his sentence for him. She had totally missed the real source of Ben's sudden reaction to Sam's suggestion, mistaking it for his typical apprehension.

She stepped over towards him and placed her earring sized hand right behind Ben's ear, against his thick neck. Ben nodded trying to feel reassured and finished cooking his eggs.

That evening on Halloween, many hours later, Ben found himself at his door after hearing a series of dramatic and loud knocks.

He reached out to open the door but stood far enough back so that he wouldn't have to bend down under the top of the frame to see into the hallway. Ben stared down at his sister taking in her costume. It certainly was a surprise. "Trick or Treat!" Sam and Cob shouted out together. Cob dangled off Sam's shoulder by holding onto a piece of thick string that was attached to a very real, black dog collar around Sam's neck. Ben blinked hard a few times at the pair. His sister was bright red. Literally. Sam was wearing what appeared to be a red, furry two piece bathing suit. It matched the bright red body paint covering the rest of Sam's long body.

In addition to the black collar around her neck, Sam had a pair of fuzzy red dog ears, made from the same fabric as her suit, dangling down the sides of her head. The tip of her nose was painted black and shaped like a heart shaped dog's nose. Ben was sure there would be a tail if she turned around.

Cob was wearing what appeared to be a long blond wig, a bright blue dress, and white stockings. "Oh my god..." Ben let slip and couldn't help but smile. "So are you going to cough up candy or do I have to go get some eggs?" Sam asked annoyed as she ducked under his door and walked past him into his living room. She was even wearing a pair of heels that made her several inches taller but still far shorter than her brother. Ben was amazed he didn't see a tail wag behind her as he closed the door and followed her. "Clifford..." Ben asked even though he knew the answer for what they were dressed as already. "The Big Red Dog!" Sam said grinning. "Where on earth did you get this idea?" Ben asked. "I saw the book in a store and thought I'd make a cute Emily Elizabeth and Sam would make an even better Clifford. She's a little too big though..." Cob replied from Sam's shoulder. "Hey! I am not too big!" Sam said in a mock pout while turning her head slightly towards Cob before returning her attention back to Ben. "Flavor Flav?" Sam said tilting her head up in confusion at her big little brother. He was dressed normally but for what she recognized as the wall clock from his apartment dangling around his neck against his chest. "No. I'm Big Ben. Get it? Like in London" Ben said gesturing to his own wall clock. "But Big Ben is the bell..." Sam said flatly relaying the information that she had learned from Hazel months ago.

"That is what I told him as well. In his defense, Ben is probably correct that few people at an American college party will know that Big Ben is the bell not the clock. And who on earth is Flavor Flav?" Hazel chimed in really pronouncing every sylalble in Flavor Flav.

Hazel was carefully perched on Ben's shoulder, near the curled edge of the hood of his sweatshirt. It was a well worn and practiced spot in case she needed to hide.

Hazel was dressed in one of her home made turtleneck outfits that looked like she was from an old movie with cat burglars. She even had her hair under a wrap, the fabric of both matching the color of Ben's hoodie. If she turned her face away from Sam she'd blend in rather well without having to hide under the fabric of his clothes. She was clearly dressed very seriously rather than for a party. Hazel glared at Cob and the pair exchanged a look. It was a look filled with many different thoughts and feelings, in a way that only siblings can share without talking. Especially siblings who'd been together for centuries. After a moment of silence, Cob looked sheepish knowing Hazel did not approve of several things.

First, how revealing Sam's costume was and accentuated parts of her body. Second, Hazel's suspicion of exactly how some of the harder to reach parts of the giant human girl's body had managed to get painted red guessing Cob helped.

But third, and most egregiously, was Cob being clearly visible part of Sam's costume. It put them out in the open, which went against everything about their kind and humans. Sam noticed Hazel's face. She realized that Cob was right when they explained earlier that their sister would hate this. Sam had told Cob not to worry about it and that she would deal with Cob's big sister. She wanted to have fun with them tonight. Sam thought a Halloween costume party would be one of the few times that maybe they could pass out in the open with Sam rather than always hiding or being afraid to be seen. "Uh...I guess I could say he was a singer a while ago? And don't worry see, it's kind of hard to notice but..." Sam reached down to her chest and pulled open a pocket that was right in the center of her chest between the cups. Without a word, Sam brought her hand opposite the shoulder that Cob was perched on upwards to them. The small figure climbed onto Sam's open hand holding onto their wig as they did. Sam curled her fingers around Cob and lowered them to the pocket. Then Sam slipped them into it feet first so gracefully it was like they'd rehearsed it. Hazel let out a disapproving throat noise noticing it put Cob right between Sam's ample breasts. And even worse, Cob was still visible in the pocket. Other than the clock from his wall around his neck, Ben had dressed like he was staying home for the night on the couch. Although his clothes looked a little tighter than they did a few months ago and it was noticeable at his considerable height. Compared to his sister it was quite a half assed effort. Even Cob was more dressed up. "This is insanity. What if someone wants to see your toy and grabs Cob?" Hazel asked emphasizing toy in a tone that made even Ben inhale sharply through his teeth. Cob looked like they were about to cry. Sam looked down and saw them hide their face and slip deeper into the pocket. Sam stepped closer to Ben blazing with an anger that showed through the dog face paint. "Then I'll bite their fucking hand off if they even try to touch them. They don't have to hide, it'll be fun." Sam growled. Hazel didn't flinch and shouted back, "That is a promise I expect you to keep if you insist on parading around and putting them in danger so foolishly!" "Trust me everyone will be staring at my red tits and ass! They won't even notice them unless Cob wants to show off their costume too." Sam shouted back. "Are you bloody insane! This is not a game! We are not meant to be seen by you!" Hazel shouted out rather loudly for someone her size. "Enough!" Ben finally interrupted both of them far louder than either were capable of. It made Cob and Hazel's body freeze and shake with the depth and strength of it. Sam's eyebrows went up surprised by him and took a half step back without realizing it. "It's a Halloween party you're supposed to look foolish and ridiculous and compared to what she normally wears this is actually very toned down for Sam. I'm pretty impressed. And Sam is going to be careful we'll all be there together and we won't drink. So if you trust me with Cob then you should trust Sam." Ben said in a much softer flurry trying to circumvent anymore disagreements between the pair. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet not used to asserting himself like that, but if anyone was going to push him to it'd be his sister and Hazel. He was the youngest there, but by far the biggest. After a long uncomfortable silence filled with Sam and Hazel staring at eachother and Cob and Ben looking at one another trying to telepathically guess if it was actually done, Hazel spoke first.

"Alright." Hazel relented. "Fine." Sam said adjusting the furry bikini bottom around her thighs trying not to smudge the body paint. "You do look absolutely ridiculous." Hazel said after another heavy moment of silence. "Babe, that's entirely the point of a college Halloween party..." Sam replied before Hazel interrupted her. "I was talking to Cob. Platinum blonde? Really?" Hazel said keeping her face expressionless for a second. But she couldn't help herself and laughed under her breath trying to hide it. "Hey! I look cute!" Cob objected. They poked out from the pocket knowing if Hazel could joke that it was really going to be alright. "Uh...so the whole no drinking thing. That was just for you two not us right?" Cob asked hopefully. "Let's go now so we can leave earlier." Ben said without answering Cob's question as he walked towards the door. *** End Part 1

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2023: Day 8 - Bird

Cranky Blames Henry:

Okay, so there is already an amazing post about how Henry becomes an activist for animal conservation in the modern era (and that is a headcanon I love), but what about Cranky? In the series, he’s explicitly said that he has befriended the seagulls at Brendam Docks. So – what if he ended up becoming a social media activist too? Of course, he would never willingly start a social media account to talk about the birds, and he certainly can’t access a phone that easily. So how did Cranky end up being one of the most outspoken ornithologists on the internet?

He blames Henry.

See, Henry began his online presence with a blog about the nature spots of Sodor in the 90’s. I’m talking about a really old blog, with maybe a grainy video or two – but definitely a lot of pictures. At this point, Henry had a driver who was really into amateur photography, and the green engine was able to rope him into taking pictures all over Sodor. He made posts about the forest, about the hills near his infamous tunnel, about the Western coast (Duck is still confused as to why Henry came all the way to Haultraugh to stare at Dilly’s great-grand ducklings), and even about Skarloey Lake with the help of Peter Sam. And it was a very popular blog – Henry switched it up when he began to run out of nature spots by the railway and started a Tidmouth sheds community garden so he could talk to his followers about how to care for plants (Bear’s second man started a corner for cooking, using the plants grown in the garden). Fast forward a two decades, and for his twentieth anniversary online, Henry decided to visit a few local spots once more to talk about Sudrian nature and wildlife – and one of those spots was Brendam Docks. By this point, videos were a bit more reliable, so he was vlogging these spots, rather than taking pictures.

And while Henry was talking about how important sustainable fishing was for the oceans, including several pointed jabs at a fisherman who used a trawling net, Cranky interrupted. Loudly. A dock worker had almost set a crate down on top of a seagull nest, and the crane went ballistic. Really rips into the poor man, telling him all about how important seagulls are, and speaking at length about why they are a key part of the environment.

Henry leaves the rant in his blog, and overnight Cranky becomes an online sensation. This is just about when Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter and other social media platforms are taking off – so it spreads fast. People around the world are talking about Cranky – and for once it’s not because of his part in the TV series!

Cranky isn’t aware of his sudden internet fame until about six weeks later, when a cruise docked at Brendam and several tourists came over and asked to take pictures with the ‘bird rage crane’. There is a lot of health and safety shenanigans, but by the end Cranky is thoroughly unamused with Henry and needs to make more posts reminding people about dockyard safety and why all birds are important.

A rant or five later, and Cranky has his own vlog. The dock manager began it mostly to get Cranky to stop shouting at him – but it quickly became very positive PR for the docks. Brendam Docks isn’t exactly a tourist hotspot, but suddenly people were coming from all over to talk to Cranky about public health and safety – and more notably about wildlife in and around the docks. Cranky talked a lot about maritime creatures (including one notable time when he managed to catch a whale on camera and spent the afternoon gloating to Henry), but mostly about the birds that frequented the harbour and his crane arm.

And yes, that included one vlog where he introduced all his bird friends by name, uncharacteristically softly.

Slowly, Henry and Cranky began to work together more often. It was an odd partnership, certainly – and more than once Bill and Ben hijacked a vlog by pulling pranks (or on one memorable occasion stealing the camera, and on another they somehow loaded Henry into a fishing barge; no one’s quite sure how) – but they worked together surprisingly well. Cranky drew out a lot of Henry’s old snark from his younger days, while Henry drew out a softer side of Cranky. And the two were relentless in their drive to create a wildlife sanctuary on Sodor – in particular, to get Henry’s Forest declared a national park.

The other engines didn’t exactly understand the two’s passion, but certainly did support them. This led to Henry’s Forest being named a national park in 2016 – something that the two celebrated with a special vlog that involved one dock worker suggesting they dismantle Cranky so he could attend.

The two have now become international climate, wildlife and nature activists, which is rather remarkable for a coal-fired steam engine and a 1920’s diesel-powered crane. Even today, they are very vocal in their support of ‘green’ reforms (Cranky got solar panels installed at Brendam Docks, and Henry is championing biofuel alternatives to coal) and have even met Greta Thunberg and David Attenborough! But most importantly, the two still talk about their favourite birds.

Henry’s is the peregrine falcon – he likes it for its speed, plumage and its adaptability – Henry actually once managed to convince a peregrine to perch on his buffer beam and got a photo with it, which he has framed in his berth. Cranky’s is the seagull. He loves the birds, in spite of others teasing him about loving the ‘flying rats of the ocean’, and can recite a number of facts about them. He often has several perched on his crane arm, and has had a seagull build a nest on top of his cab roof.

Despite their personal preferences, both Henry and Cranky continue to wish to one day see an Australian Cassowary, partially because the pair aren’t exactly sure if they’re real or if the Australians made them up to scare foreigners.

Back to Master Post

[daddykylokenobi]

Kylo Ren x Y/N chapter 8

Warnings- pet names (good girl, little girl.) piv sex, fingering, overall sexual themes, very soft fluffy loving sex.

Ben woke up the next morning to an empty bed, there was an indent in the pillow beside him which let him know that Y/n definitely did sleep with him that night. He rubbed his eyes and stretched out his arms in front of him then stared widely at the ceiling as he recalled the events of the night before.

He could hardly believe what happened between him and Y/n, he felt a tinge of guilt course through him that he didn’t reciprocate a climax to her but he knew she was tired and she didn’t ask either.. she wasn’t mad was she? His brain filled with anxious thoughts as he wondered why she had left him in bed alone, was she actually upset that they fell asleep without him… Then suddenly Ben slapped his hands back to cover his face, his cheeks were burning hot as he thought of all of the things that he could do to Y/n to make her feel good..

Ben’s fantasies were interrupted by a clatter from outside of his room, then he heard voices. The girls were all up and in the kitchen making breakfast before the two had to leave that morning.

After Ben pried himself from the bed he cleaned up and got dressed, as he left the bedroom he was welcomed with 3 “good mornings” from the trio of girls.

Dahla was pouring a selection of mugs full of a steaming hot liquid he assumed was coffee, Rey was eating from a bowl of fruit and Y/n was slicing said fruit.

“Morning” Dahla gestured a friendly smile to Ben as she handed him one of the mugs. “Sorry to crash in on you two, me and Rey are making it upto you guys with breakfast though!” Dahla was a kind girl, Ben was glad that Y/n had some good friends who seemed sincere. He took the mug gladly with a soft smile and nodded a silent thank you.

“Okay but whose the one who has made most of the breakfast…” Y/n smirked while pointing to the arraignment of fruit, scrambled eggs, and toast that was served nicely on the kitchen counter. Y/n couldn’t help taking over the breakfast ordeal since cooking was one of her few talents.

“Hey you need a sampler okay?” Rey laughed as she sat and continued to watched the girls.

The girls all chuckled in unison, it was so nice to have a peaceful time together Y/n thought, it had been so long since things just felt…. Normal.

Ben caught eyes with Y/n and they shared a quiet acknowledgment, he noticed she was wearing a turtleneck jacket that was zipped all the way up even though the weather outside was warm enough for light clothing, he felt a sheen of embarrassment flash over his face as he realized why she had it on, memories from the night before danced through his mind, he didn’t mean to mark her neck but now that he thought about it he Had been a bit rough…

The group breakfast was short and sweet as Rey and Dahla both realized they were behind schedule, after they quickly packed up their things they were heading out the door.

“Thank you again for letting us stay you guys.” Rey had a wide grin on her face, her uplifted mood was always a breath of fresh air to be around.

“No problem, I hope you two have a safe trip, make sure to check in here and there okay?” Y/n looked at Dahla with a serious expression as they exchanged a quick hug.

“I will, and next time we see eachother we Need to talk.” Dahla whispered in Y/n’s ear as they embraced.

“Damnit.” Y/n thought, Dahla was way too good at reading her and she knew that she had picked up that something between her and Ben was going on.

“We will.” Y/n nodded to Dahla as they all 4 waved goodbye.

The apartment door slowly shut, Y/n and Ben both let out a quiet sigh of relief and roamed back to the living room to sit on the couch.

“Well that went better than expected..” Y/n huffed as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Will you let me see?” Ben asked quickly.

Her eyes darted over to his and she raised an eyebrow at his question. “See what..?” Her voice was low and she felt herself start to become fidgety.

Ben reached over and grabbed the zipper on her jacket, she gulped hard as she tried to swallow her embarrassment.

Slowly Ben pulled the zipper down then grabbed her collar and folded it over itself to reveal her naked neck. It was sprinkled with dark purple and pink bruises he had left the night before.

“Oh Y/n…” he breathed out. Although he didn’t want to admit it he was slightly admiring his work on her.

“It’s okay it doesn’t hurt.” Y/n quickly defended the marks as she shook her head, “it’s not a big deal..” she was looking down at her lap, she knew if she were to look up to Ben her face would surely turn bright red.

“I’m sorry..” he began with a soft tone. “I didn’t realize it was going to do that so bad.” He brushed his thumb over the colorful bruises on the side of her neck which trailed down the front of her throat and chest.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she built up the courage to face him then she gently planted her right hand on his knee. “I-… I enjoyed it..” her lips trembled as she thought back to their night together. She had been so brave in the beginning but after Ben put her in her place and showed her that He was in fact in charge her entire demeanor towards him in this way changed.

“I did too.” He nodded as he leaned in closer to her, he brushed his cheek against hers then curved his head lower and began to press tender little kisses against her marks, he lifted his arms to entangled themselves around her waist and squeezed her closer to him.

Y/n whimpered as his lips softly kissed her sore neck, she didn’t want to say that it hurt but in reality it did a little.

He wanted to finish what was started last night, the guilt from that morning was still lingering and he couldn’t wait any longer to deliver her the same pleasure that she had gifted him just hours ago.

He started to lick and suck at her throat as he leaned her back to lay down, he moved his mouth down to her chest while he unzipped her jacket the rest of the way, he felt so lucky that she didn’t bother wearing a shirt underneath and he could leave a path of kisses all over her stomach and waist.

“B-Ben..” she softly cried out his name as he laid over her on the couch, he was moving lower and lower down her body and he had started to play with the hem of her shorts. She felt a heat rise inbetween her legs as his hands lingered right above it.

He crawled himself back up to face her and pressed his mouth to hers, he couldn’t resist her calling to him with such a sweet voice.

He made love to her lips with his own before pulling away to bring himself to her ear where he began to nibble and suck on it.

“H-hey-!” She scrunched up her shoulders as she giggled at the sensation, he smirked as he continued to play with her. Before long she had grown accustomed to the new feeling and it had become pure pleasure, she let out pretty little moans as he kept his mouth on her while he began to tug down her shorts bit by bit.

In just a few seconds her shorts were pulled down around her thighs and he started to hesitantly rub his fingers up and down overtop of her clothed slit.

She jumped as he did this causing him to pull away and open his eyes to look at her, she had opened hers as well and they stared at eachother.

“Do you want this?” His voice was deep and breathy, she couldn’t think of anything else in this world that she wanted but still her nerves were getting the best of her, she worried that he would somehow not find her ‘privates’ as she was raised to call it, attractive.

“Y-y-yes… I’m just nervous..” she whispered.

Ben’s face become caring and he looked at her with the kindest eyes she had seen from him. “What’re you nervous about?” He felt like he should be the one who was nervous, he had never touched a woman like this before and although his exterior might not show it he was worried that he wouldn’t be able to make her feel even half as good as she had last night.

“I just…” Y/n looked to the side to hide her face as much as she could. “I just don’t know if you’ll like it..” she admitted.

Ben’s eyebrows pushed together in confusion. “What do you mean..?” He asked as his hand rubbed her inner thigh.

The touch caught Y/n’s breath in her lungs and she tightly shut her eyes trying to compose herself, Ben smirked at this reaction and returned his hand to her heat where he started to massage his fingers back and forth.

“I-.. mmphh..” she bit her bottom lip roughly to hold in a moan. “I just don’t know if you’ll find it p-pretty.” She choked out the words as she looked back at his face. His expression was determination mixed with lust, hearing how she was insecure over this made him want to pleasure her even more.

“I see..” he slowly exclaimed as he looked down to her underwear he had been rubbing circles against, a small wet spot had grown under his fingers and he felt himself getting hard as well. “I guess I’ll just have to decide for myself.” He moved himself back to sit on his knees, he laid her legs over his sides and pulled her entire body back close to him where he then grabbed each of his hands to each side of her dark underwear.

Y/n was shaking underneath of his touch and as he towered over her she watched him slowly strip off her underwear to reveal everything she was worrying about.

Ben sat staring in complete silence for a moment before he let out a long and satisfied sounding sigh. “Y/n…” he shook his head as in disbelief as he reached forward to her inner thighs, he swept his large thumb along her slit then rubbed it slowly up and down.

Y/n brought her arms up to cover her face in embarrassment, she twitched and jerked under his touch and bit the side of her hand to keep herself from completely humiliating herself in dramatic moans from such a light touch.

He smirked as he reached up with his free hand to pull her arms away from her face, her cheeks were hot pink and she was heavily breathing in and out to keep herself from unraveling. He looked her in the eyes and tilted his head to the side, “Y/n, I couldn’t have imagined anything more perfect..” he said as he slowly started to part her folds and rub this thumb through her wetness.

“H-ha.. nmpphh..” she bit her lip as she looked down to watch him continue to play with her.

After a few more seconds of this he carefully pushed his middle finger to her entrance, her back arched lightly and he felt his cock jump in satisfaction to her reaction.

“Ben p-please.. be gentle…” she begged inbetween precious whimpers.

“Of course..” he reassured her as he began to inch his middle finger through her entrance, it slipped in easily with how wet she was. “I don’t want to hurt my little girl..”

Y/n didn’t know if she was moaning from him entering her or him calling her that, she quickly concluded that it was both as another wave of moans escaped her lips as he began to softly pumped his middle finger in and out of her tight hole.

Ben realized the effect this pet name had on her and made a quick note of it, after all she was His girl and much much littler than him.

After a minute of warming her up he added his ring finger into her, she let out a sigh of pleasure and bucked her hips against him, he couldn’t help but think about how good she would feel wrapped against his hard cock which was buried underneath layers of clothing.

“Ughh Ben it feels… so good..” she brought her eyes upto his, they were glazed over and half lidded, her head felt heavy with bliss and her whole body was steaming hot.

He felt so invigorated when she told him how good he was doing, he moved forward to lean over her and started to lay kisses against her neck again, “Y/n..” he sighed. “I want to make you feel So good.. Just say the word..” he groaned as he pressed his bulge against her hips.

Y/n knew what he was asking and with how amazing he was already doing she couldn’t imagine what he would feel like actually Inside of her. “Y-yes… yes..” she huffed as she nodded her head up and down, “please Ben, I want you.” She whined against his shoulder.

“Such a good girl..” he whispered as he caressed her cheek then kissed his moist lips to her forehead.

He slowly pulled his fingers from her and began to quickly fumble with his pants, Y/n let out a sigh of disappointment as his fingers left her. After a moment he had kicked off his pants and started to remove his boxers.

“You’ll go slow.. right?” Y/n asked him with worry in her voice as she watched him take off the final layer separating them, she had never had sex before and she was wondering how something so big was going it fit inside of her..

He leaned back in to kiss her, his mouth was hungry for hers and his tip brushed lightly against her inner thighs.

“Hnngh..” Ben groaned into her mouth as he felt himself becoming needy to be inside her. He pulled away from her mouth with a heavy exhale and stared into her eyes.

“Ri-right..?” Y/n repeated her question out of breath.

He grabbed onto her cheek and leaned closely to press his lips against her ear. “I promise I’ll go slow, I would never hurt you..” he then pulled back to bring her legs upto his sides, she willingly spread her legs open for him and watched as he lined up his head with her glistening entrance.

She held her breath as he slowly pressed himself forward, as his tip made contact with her wetness he released a sharp exhale from his mouth, then he continued forward and in a few seconds he had fully buried himself inside of her.

Y/n breathed out harshly and was gripping his hand painfully tight, the feeling of him pressing inside of her was like nothing she had ever felt, it was warm.. comforting.. she felt ridiculously full as he stretched her walls in every direction from his size.

Ben couldn’t believe the euphoric sensation of being inside her, she was perfectly wet which made the process so much easier and her heat radiated around him. He then began to pull back and then push forward again.

“Fa-faster Ben..” she pleaded as she looked upto him with submissive eyes.

Both of their moans echoed off of eachothers as he picked up his pace and started a steady rhythm in and out. He leaned down to be close to her, he brought his left arm underneath of her and pulled her forward against his chest, she gladly wrapped her arms around him.

“Ahhh-ah!” Y/n let out a loud whimper as he roughly thrusted into her, he pulled back out so painstakingly slow then in one full thrust slammed himself back against her walls. “Ben!” She cried out as she bit down onto his shoulder.

Ben huffed out as he tried to catch his breath, “You’re doing.. s-so! good..” he said inbetween his hard thrusts into her.

He again picked up his speed and was now quickly moving in and out, her inner thighs were covered in wetness as her sex leaked out everywhere it could.

A few minutes passed as they moaned and whined out pretty little exclamations of pleasure to each other.

“I-“ Ben squeezed her body close to his leaving no space between them as he felt himself start to come close to climax. “I’m getting c-close” he groaned as he brought his right hand down and started to rub tiny circles around her clit.

Y/n inhaled sharply as this new addition of pleasure was sending her to her end as well.

“Ahhh” Ben moaned as his hips began to stutter and he felt his orgasm begin.

Y/n was also reaching her climax, the sensations were almost too much and she dug her nails into his back as she squeezed herself against his body. “Ben I-I’m..” her head was dizzying and her eyes fluttered shut as she felt herself come undone, “h-haa” she squealed as her entire body shook and flinched as her orgasm reached its peak.

Ben was overwhelmed by her perfectly beautiful reaction to him pleasing her, he wanted nothing more than to make her feel good and he had accomplished just that. He too felt himself climax, he held her body flush to his as his hips struggled to continue to press into her as his hot cum shot inside her walls.

They both fell back onto the couch with heavy sighs escaping each of their mouths, Ben nuzzled himself into her neck and weakly kissed at it as she wrapped her entire body around his. It was quiet for awhile as each of them came down from their highs, Y/n was rubbing her hands up and down his back as she kept reminding herself that this was in fact reality and did just happen.

Ben finally propped himself up on his elbows and greeted her face with his, he leaned forward and pressed the most delicate kiss on her lips that she had bitten red.

They looked lovingly into eachothers eyes as they savored the moment together.

“That was..” Y/n began, “so amazing…” she brought her hand up and started to run her hands through his thick dark hair. “I keep reminding myself that I’m not dreaming..” she smirked.

He returned the smile and looked at her with the softest expression, “You’re telling me…” He sighed as he tilted his head towards her to better position himself for her to play with his hair.

[thetruearson]

The PROPER ending to umbrella academy

Hello again. So, because the ending to umbrella academy was complete a$$, here is how I wish it would have ended. I would love to hear how you wanted it to end too.

My story begins at the last episode, when Victor gets Ben to the main room in the store, and tries to talk to him.

Ben: "I'm scared, Victor."

Victor, taking small steps towards him: "I know how that feels... trust me."

Loud chanting from the followers outside the store interrupt the conversation

Victor: "Look, what's happening to you guys is what their calling 'the cleans'. They want you both to destroy this timeline. That's why Reggie had made a fake town around her, to protect her."

Ben: "What does she need protecting from?"

Victor: "Us... the marigold inside you is what's causing this, its reacting with the Durango inside her."

Ben, shaking his head in confusion: "So were destroying the world...?"

Victor, in with a small chuckle woven into his words: "Actually, yes."

Ben: "I'm not going to leave her, she needs help"

Victor: "If you help her, you will destroy everything."

After a long pause as Ben tries to understand the situation, Diego, Lila, Klaus, Luther, and Allison blink into the room. Five is missing tho.

Diego, pulling out a dagger: "Holy shit, is that Ben?"

Klaus, brushing himself off and fixing his pants: "I mean, its a little bit of a different look, but I think we have all seen worse."

Jennifer soon appears out of the dressing room, walking over to Ben: "B-ben... what's going on?"

As Ben sees Jennifer, something inside him clicks, his voice becoming distorted as he grips onto his last bit of sanity left inside him: "Jennifer- you have to stay away"

Lila, taken back by Jennifer's appearance: "Jesus, must be some bad STD or some shit..."

Victor: "Ben, Listen to me, don't do this. You can fight back. You'er family is here for you."

Ben in a distorted voice: "Your not my family!"

Klaus, stepping closer to Ben: "Family isn't defined by blood."

Allison stepping next to Klaus: "Or who you grew up with."

Diego steps next to Allison: "It's defined by who you care about."

Luther steps next to Diego: "And by who cares about you."

Victor stands up, standing beside the others along with Lila. They put their hands on each other's shoulders, as Victor extends a hand out, hoping Ben will grab hold.

Ben, looking up at the others and speaking in a weak tone: "How do I stop this?"

Allison: "The only way to stop it is by killing one of the hosts."

Victor raises his hand, alerting the sniper on the other roof to prepare the shot: "We can save you... just let her go."

Klaus: "We let you die once, were not letting you go again."

Ben Slowly nods his head, a tear escaping his eye: "just get it over with..."

Victor lowers his hand, pointing at Jennifer: "I'm sorry..."

Bang.

Meanwhile, while the others properly blinked into the store, five was sent into the Subway of hell. Unable to blink back, and the exit blocked, the got onto the subway. It took him to what seemed like an old gas station restaurant. He walked in, to see himself. Like- a lot of himself. Everywhere. It was quite normal. I mean compared to fighting roach infested concrete samurais and having your arm cut off then replaced when you got transported into another timeline.

Another five called him over. Five slowly walked over, sitting in his booth. The restaurant smelled like oil and cooked meat.

Alternate Five: "So, you must be new?"

Five: "What is this place?"

Alternate Five: "What does it look like? This is a place just for us. The other Five's who have given up on saving their worlds."

Five: "But I haven't given up yet. I have to get back to my family."

Alternate Five: "Dont we all? Trust me, there's not a lot to go back to."

Five: "What do you mean?"

Alternate Five: "You will just cause more issues. That's what's happening to every time line."

Five: "Do you mind elaborating?"

Alternate Five: "Whos the only one of the other numb skulls that have anything to do with the time lines? No one. We are the issue, Buddy. Every time we blink, or go to another time line, we open a rip. A rip in the space/time continum. That's how other time lines see memories, or artifacts. Every time we blink, we open up the door to other time lines."

Five, sits back in his chair: "I see..."

Alternate Five: "So going back will just cause more issues. All the time lines are imploding because of us. All time lines need to end if one of us are there during or before the 'apocalypse' ".

Five sits up, taking a sip of his ice water as he tries to think.

Alternate Five: "Theres no way out. We've looked. We're the outlier here. Just give up and relax for once. I can tell you'er a tight ass, but that will change after a few years here."

Five: "No, no, no, no... I have to go back. Do something. Save them. Save her."

Alternate Five: "ah... Lila. She was great. She died in my time line... a long time ago. But if you go back, she will die again."

Five sighs as he raises his hand for a waiter: "Ill take a large coffee. Black."

Now, where were we...? oh right.

Bang. The .338 Lapua Magnum flew out of the sniper, racing thru the air, going 3,000 feet per second. The Bullet pierced the glass like a knife thru butter. Hitting Jennifer right in between the eyes. She falls to the ground, her body going limp. Ben yells out in pain as she falls to the ground. He falls to his knees as the distortions and welts on his body begin to fade, but not disappear.

All the others fell to his side, putting their hands on his shoulder. Tears fell from his eyes as he understands what had just happened.

Victor: "You did the right thing, Ben"

Luther: "Its nice to have you back, Bro. I guess we shouldent tell you'er paroll officer about this...?"

Ben: "Yea, no shit."

Now, I don't know how to include these last few details so here they are.

*Five stays in the Subway from hell, to stop his timeline from being put into any more harm. The others put another mural in the same place as they did in the first season. Allison puts food out for him every night as she used to.

*Ben never really heals after. As most of the damage to his body is fixed, but many scars, strech marks, and noticable issues were left on his body.

*The wife of Reggi kills him, then kills herself, after giving the same speech as she did in the show.

*Klaus adopts thunderbolt as his pet. I know its stupid, but I loved it so much.

Thank you for reading! I am taking requests, hope you have a great day!!

[hotheadrednecksimmer]

Vault Tec Legacy Challenge

‎‧₊˚✧I interrupt story telling to bring you Family Photos along with Character updates since the start of the series! I also included their life spans✧˚₊‧

The Graham's

Alexia, Valentine, Clementine, & Jameson Graham!

Alexia [Young Adult] is currently Vault 95's Overseer! Alexia is married to Jameson and they have an open relationship! Alexia is the mom to two girls, Valentine and Clementine! Her traits are Genius, Perfectionist, Geek, and while playing she got Romantically Reserved! She's currently battling with a fear of Death which make sense considering she's going out into the wasteland soon!

Jameson [Adult] is currently Vault 95's Gardener and Teacher! Jameson is currently married to Alexia and they have an open relationship! Jameson is the dad of Valentine, Clementine, and currently expecting his third, but first child with Mabel Corley! His traits are Self-Assured, Neat, Bookworm, and while playing he got Lovebug.

The Graham Sisters

Clementine and Valentine!

Valentine [Child] was the first baby born in Vault 95 and the first child of Jameson and Alexia! Valentine prefers to go by Val. Val is also the big sister of Clementine! Val has the Hot-Headed, Top Notch Infant, and High Confidence traits!

Clementine and Valentine!

Clementine [Child] is Valentine's younger sister and Jameson and Alexia's second child. Clementine prefers going by Clem. Clem has the Art Lover, Top Notch Infant, and High Confidence Traits!

The Garrison's

Saylor holding Ophelia, Benjamin, and Owyn Garrison!

Saylor [Young Adult] is currently Vault 95's Doctor, the wife of Benjamin, and mom to Owyn and Ophelia! Saylor's traits are Family-Oriented, Neat, Active, & Outgoing!

Benjamin [Adult] is currently Vault 95's Cook and takes care of the younger children when not cooking in the kitchen! Ben is married to Saylor and is the dad to Owyn and Ophelia! Ben's current traits are Family-Oriented, Creative, Perfectionist, Romantic, and Cheerful [some of these traits were added through gameplay].

Owyn [Child] is the first child born to Saylor and Ben, and the big brother to Ophelia. Owyn is currently best friends with Valentine. Owyn's traits are Cheerful, Happy Toddler, Top Notch Infant, and High Confidence!

Ophelia [Infant] is the second child born to Saylor and Ben, and the younger sister to Owyn! Ophelia is currently a Calm Infant with the quirks Hates Being Held, Gassy, and Self-Soother.

The Corley-Graham's!

Mabel, Jameson, & Branson!

Mabel [Adult] is Vault 95's Doctor-In-Training under Saylor and takes care of the younger children when she's not in the clinic. Mabel is currently dating and pregnant with Jameson. Mabel was previously married to Cornelius, they divorced after Mabel realized she was no longer happy with him. Due to Cornelius' temper and unwillingness to leave Mabel alone, he was kick out of the Vault. Mabel's traits are Cringe, Genius, and a Bookworm.

Branson [Child] is Mabel and Cornelius' first and only child together, and will be the big brother to Mabel and Jameson's baby [when born]. Branson is currently really good friends with Clementine and Owyn. Branson's traits are Creative and High Confidence.

The Johnstone's!

Ellis and Kenzie!

Ellis [Adult] is currently the Vault's extra engineer [along with Alexia] and helps Jameson in the greenhouse. Ellis was married before the bombs but his wife wasn't able to make it to the bomb shelter before the bombs dropped. Ellis and Mary [Deceased Wife] had a daughter and named her Kenzie. Ellis' traits are Bookworm, Outgoing, and Gloomy. He currently is battling with a fear of Death which makes sense as he and Alexia are venturing out into the wasteland.

Kenzie [Teen] is the first and only child of Ellis and Mary [Deceased]. Kenzie is currently struggling with Radiation poisoning. Before Radiation poisoning, Kenzie's hair color was black, it is currently White. Kenzie's traits are Paranoid & Ghoul [This is to give her some afflictions that she otherwise wouldn't have symptoms of turning into a Ghoul, Kenzie is not aware that she is turning into a Ghoul].

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ First | Previous | Next

[zepskies]

This might sound dumb but I need a clarification if you don’t mind lol. I saw a post you made about a new SB fic about how he would react to his girlfriend randomly coming up and biting his shoulder, and I saw you said it’ll be up on Sunday and you but in parentheses (1/31) and I took that as January 31 and I think that’s a Wednesday so I was wondering what you meant, sorry if this makes no sense

Oh sorry! I meant 12/31 lmao, my bad.

Yes, this SB imagine will come out this Sunday!

[jungle-angel]

Bless this House (Ben Mears x Reader)

Summary: You and Mr. Mears can live with the craziness of the coven house. Besides, it’s what makes life worth living

 A tan Buick pulled to a stop in the driveway of the huge Victorian monstrosity that overlooked one of the more secluded streets away from Jointner Avenue, the snow beginning to fall as the storm began to roll in.

“Alright you little cockroaches,” Jimmy Cody chuckled. “Get outta my car!”

Ben, Corey Bryant and Mike Ryerson practically jumped out of the vehicle, rushing up the steps of the porch and to the front door where you opened it for them, rushing them in before they kicked off their boots near the shoe rack that never seemed to stop growing.

“Couch?” Ben managed to say between his chattering teeth.

“You took the words out of my mouth,” you answered.

“Oh I’ll be taking alot more out of your mouth than just words hon,” Ben teased.

You felt him pinch your ass, letting out a squeal as you chased him straight to the living room. The two of you dove right into the big sectional when the sound of little feet on the stairs had interrupted you along with the sound of an oven timer going off.

“Momma, Dada home?!” Randy practically shrieked.

“Yes buddy, Dada home,” you half laughed.

Randy came running into the living room with his blue blanket in one hand and his little moose stuffie in the other hand. Mark Petrie was the last in through the door, making some rude and obnoxious noise before Bonnie and Eva’s voices were heard, ordering him to stop tracking snow in through the door.

Ben laughed as he picked Randy up off the ground and into his arms, blowing raspberries on Randy’s cold little cheeks and throwing the two year old into a fit of side-splitting laughter.

“C’mon little man, you’ve gotta be cold,” Ben said.

The three of you piled on the couch, Randy in front, you behind him and Ben’s chest flush against your back. The fire crackled away in the fireplace, its heat filling the entire room while the lights from the Christmas tree added to the dim soft glow.

You, Ben and Randy didn’t even bother to eat dinner, though Bonnie had gone to unbelievable pains to cook the pot roast that had been slow cooking in the oven all day. Ben lived for moments like this when it was just you, him and Randy or you, him, Randy and Mark all together. Sure, you and Bonnie often went out on an all girls hunt or sometimes it was just Ben and the guys, but it was these moments of closeness that made life worth living.

Everybody ate and turned in early, retreating to their rooms or going about their business before Father Callaghan was the last person to enter the house for the night, choosing to make himself comfortable in the old rocker as he lit the pipe that Mrs. Curless had given him for Christmas the previous year.

“Anything eventful happen while I was out?” Father Callaghan enquired.

“Nothing really worth repeating with little ears in the room,” Ben chuckled.

“Anything at your end?” you asked.

“It’s all the same to me (Y/n)” the priest answered. “Nothing overly interesting, but nothing overly worrisome either.”

You and Ben looked at each other as Randy snored away. You both hadn’t had a peaceful night like this in a long time, not since the summer or fall when every night felt like there was one hunt after another. But when winter came, it meant that you could have a few months to yourselves and to just enjoy each other. 

As soon as Father Callaghan had finished his pipe, he spilled the ashes into Parkins’s ashtray on the endtable before retreating upstairs to his room. You and Ben decided to turn in yourselves, Ben carefully picking a sleepy Randy up before bringing him upstairs to the room across from yours and putting him in his bed, pulling the warm covers over him and kissing his head. 

Ben pulled you close and put his arm around your waist, leading you into the room before the two of you fell into bed with the heat rising up from the living room. You felt Ben burying his face in the curve of your neck, the room completely dark and perfect to watch the snow fall. 

“Can’t believe it’s December already,” you sighed. 

“Mmmmh,” Ben hummed sleepily. “Randy will be three in February.” 

“And in May Bonnie and Corey are getting married.” 

“So won’t Mike, Jimmy and their girlfriends.” 

You laughed at remembering all the nights Father Callaghan had been steaming about the three couples under the roof, griping about how they had picked the perfect opportunity to drop the news on him. 

You purred as his warm hands ran along your body, the two of you `snug under the duvet as you fell asleep to the snow outside. “Goodnight Mrs. Mears,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Goodnight Mr. Mears,” you teased, scratching his chin. 

[pagetreader]

Stupid. For feck’s sake, he was so stupid, with his dumb face, ridiculous uniform, and big baby blue eyes that glimmered like starlight… 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! 

He tugged on her waist and she moaned into his mouth, desperate for his taste as she ground into his erection. Damn him. 

"Pot meet kettle." he muttered against her lips, to which she sighed in frustration, silencing him with another kiss while threading her fingers through his hair. 

“Take a bloody hint, you goon…” 

Nina didn’t love him. She wasn’t capable of that anymore, or so she told herself. But she had to have him, had to shut that pretty mouth of his and make him listen to her for even five damn seconds. No, she didn’t love him, but she did need him, as evident by the way she hungrily pawed at him with aching need. 

It was surprising, however, when Benjamin halted their kiss and instead nudged his forehead to hers. Bewildered by this, a shiver crawled up her spine, still pink cheeked from their ardent affections. 

“D-do you want to stop?” she asked, still trying to catch her breath. 

"We might die this time too," he panted, his lips still grazing her own. "Is that what this is all about?"

No, she thought. You’re not going to die. I won’t let you. 

Unwilling to share her feelings on the matter, Nina hadn’t the time to conjure a response before they were rudely interrupted by half the damn battalion bursting through the tent’s entrance. 

In all the instances in life where she’d been taken by surprise, Nina was certain she’d never moved faster than at that moment, leaping from off Benjamin’s lap faster than a horse could swat a fly as she fixed her skirts and cleared her throat. 

Whoever the man who decided to hurl jabs at Benjamin for his dalliance was, Nina immediately didn’t like him. There was something about him that rubbed her the wrong way. Besides, only she was allowed to cut down Benjamin’s confidence. It was a bloody privilege, not a right. 

Hiding her smudged hand in the pockets of her petticoat as Ben dismissed the humiliating jest and introduced her as a valuable asset, Nina moved to linger in front of him, if only to keep prying eyes from noticing his still-tented pants. She didn’t care what these men thought of her, but she’d be damned if they thought they could disrespect their commanding officer like this. 

"Go ahead," Benjamin encouraged as the officers spoke indistinctly. "You saw their movements -- why don't you help us visualize a plan of attack?"

Skeptical, Nina glanced upward at the group. The smug one, apparently called Bradford, smirked at her and offered a vain and domineering wink that grated on her very bones. With any luck, she’d have the opportunity to slug the bastard one of these days. 

Picking up a couple of the pawns that remained scattered over the map, Nina smoothed out the parchment (fortunately, the ink had only spilled and bled into a far corner) and strategically placed them in their current position. 

“With the second battalion on its way, you don’t have much time before they’ve boxed you in. If that happens, your goose is cooked.” 

With the piece representing the American forces trapped in the middle of two British pawns, she retrieved two more American figures and placed them on either side. Though the men looked rather suspicious, Nina was feeling rather pleased with herself.

“I recommend spreading out your forces to both flanks, but keeping this camp up and appearing functional to trick them into approaching. Little will they know, you’ll have the advantage.”

For a long moment, nobody moved.

Nina's mouth curled up into a sneer, a low, husky chuckle all but purring within her lungs while she lunged forward and shoved him, sending Benjamin careening across the tabletop in a graceless slam. Her mouth instantly fastened to his and he groaned, her touch harsh and ardent and starved as his hands wove through her hair, tightening and pulling as he attempted to get closer.

Despite the war table not being entirely made for...well...this, Nina straddled his lap and rolled her hips into his swelling erection, a soft hiss catching between his teeth as each firm, ardent grind left him throbbing between her thighs.

An impish look overcame Nina's gaze. “Do you ever shut up?” she taunted, yanking a fistful of his hair and dragging his lips into hers, harsh and all-consuming.

"Pot meet kettle," he muttered into their kiss, their teeth practically gnashing as he guided her mouth more strongly into his. He felt dizzy, disoriented, disgusting. This was not his duty as an officer -- this wasn't even a woman he loved, and yet somehow, his body yearned to betray his strict moral code with each rut of their hips, and every urgent, graceless fumble from groping hands.

With a sharp breath, Benjamin broke their kiss, nudging his forehead into hers. "We might die this time too," he murmured, panting against her kiss-swollen mouth. "Is that what this is all about?"

Before she could reply, the sound of voices approached the tent, and with a sharp curse, Benjamin quickly vaulted upright, sending Nina rolling to the side as he made a frantic show of fixing his coat, weskit, and hair -- or rather, what strands he could futilely tuck behind his ear.

Breathing hard, Benjamin straightened just as several men filed back into the space.

"Tallmadge," Bradford greeted, appraising him with a contemptuous sneer. With little shame, he lifted a hand and gestured to his cheek. "You have something there...what is that, hmm? Find yourself wrestling with the paperwork again?"

A few of the other officers laughed, and pink-cheeked, Benjamin sent an alarmed look in Nina's direction before glancing downward, balking at the sight of her ink-stained hand. With a curse, he turned away and reached for his handkerchief, wasting little time before he started scrubbing at his cheek. A smear of ink immediately stained the cloth, but without any milk, tea, or lemon to aid in the task, he knew his efforts were pointless.

With a low exhale of defeat, Benjamin pocketed his handkerchief and turned to the other men with a scowl. "This isn't the time for jokes, gentlemen," he coolly said. "Miss Zenik comes with news from the enemy -- or rather, their location. We don't even have a day to prepare."

The officers all started talking at once, and holding up a hand, Benjamin motioned Nina forward. "Go ahead," he encouraged. "You saw their movements -- why don't you help us visualize a plan of attack?"

His stance on women in the war room hadn't changed; no, not by a longshot, and yet he was unwilling to chase her out and make their scandal seem...well...like an actual admitted scandal. The camp gossip was lacking as of late, and thus, this would be a delightful addition to the evening circuit. He had to divert them as much as possible.

[booksbydlwhite]

#SampleSunday: The Never List- "Is it just me, or are you a bitch?"

Welcome back to #SampleSunday! if you’re new to me or my work, or it has been a while since you visited my catalog, I hope today’s snip is just the tease you need to jump in!

Today’s sample is from my slow burn Black romantic comedy THE NEVER LIST, in which single and successful Esme Whitaker meets her match in Trey Pettigrew, a man who hopes to accomplish his business goals and help Esme clear her list of adventures she wants to complete by her 40th birthday. What Trey doesn’t know is that having sex tops the list. I hope you enjoy this fun romp of a story about a modern virgin heroine and the man she’d love to cross the line with… if only he didn’t rub her the wrong way.

"A thriller," Trey commented, scooting up to the table. "I figured you for a romance reader."

He set an enormous plate of chicken salad sandwich and kettle chips in front of him. Without thinking, I moved my bowl so he would have more room. Then I remembered: He was crowding me.

I moved my bowl back to its original position. "I do read romance. I also read thrillers. And biographies. And self-help, and business–"

"Versatile literary tastes," he interrupted, hiking his brows up at me with a smile. "I like it. A well-read Black woman is incredibly attractive."

Trey centered his plate on the edge of the table and plucked a chip from the overflowing pile. "I love kettle chips. I stan a fried potato, but these? Hot, crispy, fresh from the fryer. Mmmmm." He winked as it disappeared into his mouth, then closed his eyes and moaned as he chewed.

"They're fine, I guess, if you don't mind breaking a tooth. Do you mind, though? I want to get back to my versatile reading habit."

He picked up one half of his sandwich and took a generous bite, licking residual chicken salad off of his lips as he chewed. I tried not to watch, but the way his mouth moved was doing strange things to me.

"Mmmph." He made noises, pointing at my book and chewing, then swallowed. "Let me save you some time because that book drove me crazy when I read it. The janitor is the serial killer."

I blanched, horrified— first at the idea that the quiet, meek, helpful janitor could be the culprit right under the nose of the entire investigative team. Then at how frank Trey had been about giving me that detail.

"How… do you know?"

"It's been on the bestseller list for over a month. I'm surprised you're just now getting around to it."

"This is a new author to me. I wanted to read the other books in the series. Did you just spoil this book for me?"

"No, I gave you a clue. You don't know how it ends or why he's killing." He lifted and lowered his shoulders in a shrug. "Read it. Find out if I was right."

I flipped through pages until I got near the end, then thought better of it and snapped the book shut, tossing it back to the table. I put all of my attention on the bowl of soup and the sandwich, refusing to look up at him, though he was doing the most to get me to notice him.

Crunching chips loudly, he shoved his plate toward my side of the table, which forced me to move my bowl.

"Would you stop? I'm trying to eat so we can get back to work."

I bit into my still warm sandwich, the cheese oozing out from the edges. "That looks good," he said. "Is it?"

I nodded, chewing the crunchy, toasted bread and spicy cheese. The cook used pepper jack, which gave the sandwich a nice kick.

"How long have you worked for Benning?"

I smiled as I swallowed. "Is that something you need to know to close this deal?"

"Nah. But since I know what's inside your wallet and your home address, I didn't think it was too personal. How's your face?"

"My face?" My eyes rose to his.

"Your face. Where that guy played rock 'em sock 'em upside your head."

"Do you have to be so crass about it?"

"Do you have to find a problem with everything I say? Damn."

He exhaled, then added, "I'm only asking how you're doing since your attack. You look good. You feel good? How is the swelling?"

"Do you see any swelling, Mr. Pettigrew?"

Trey said nothing for a few beats, rolling his tongue across his teeth, glaring across the table at me. I was hoping he'd given up, but no such luck.

"Is it just me, or are you a bitch?"

Read THE NEVER LIST in eBook or print HERE. Hear me read this chapter for the Bookcast HERE.

[double-0h-no]

I think I'm with Team Bond dances and Q sings here, for a few reasons. For one, the two following pieces of evidence which fortunately or unfortunately live rent-free in my head and that most have probably heard and seen. They have way too much power over me:

Evidence #1: Daniel Craig dancing

and evidence #2: Ben Whishaw singing

Specifically, this little snippet of him singing that I stumbled upon when reading this lovely fic by a_xmasmurder.

Conclusion:

So my headcanon is that Bond enjoys cooking and whilst cooking, he's listening to all sorts of music, dancing through the kitchen, making a whole show of avoiding the cats and blocking their way to the counter. It's ridiculous and delightfuls and makes Q embarrassingly soft for that mess of a man, so technically, it's embarrassing for the both of them.

Q sings in the shower, only found out when James returns from a mission a bit earlier than anticipated.

Now, Tanner has children, in my humble opinion, and his embarrassing habit is that, especially while his kids are still young, he slips into baby talk, first and foremost with agents who are behaving like toddlers or when admiring something new R&D came up with, praising it like is eight year olds science fair project. Of course that only happens when he's really, really tired.

Mallory talks to himself. It's not the worst or most embarrassing habit to have and helps his thoughts along, but sometimes he gets really lost in it while Eve stands in his door frame, patiently waiting for her boss to sort himself out before she interrupts the thought.

Eve... is a tough one, though she probably has a dime a dozen of them, too. I imagine her to be messy with her clothes when she's at home, leaving them strewn across her bedroom, though nobody needs to know, right? What the others do catch wind of, though, is that she can't resist babies, be they animal or human. She's incredibly soft for them, positively melts, and it gives people the weirdest whiplash of having entered and alternate reality where Eve Moneypenny suddenly is not half as tough anymore for a few seconds.

Important question: what private habits do the MI6 crew have that they would be embarrassed to have their colleagues know about?

(...OK, it's pretty hard to make Bond embarrassed, but let's pretend he had a sense of shame for minute.)

Personally, I think Q dances with (and for) his cats. It amuses (and also puzzles) them to watch him dance around the flat, so he does it for their benefit. He'll shake that thang if it's just him and the cats alone for the evening.

I also think that when Bond is in a good mood, he sings in the shower or while cooking breakfast or listening to the radio while driving alone in the car. I think he'll really belt it out when a power ballad comes on.

What say you? And what about Moneypenny, Tanner, et al?

[writing-funsies]

OP characters with a soft s/o P.6

p.1 | p.2 | p.3 | p.4 | p.5 | p.6

pairings: Shanks x reader, Mihawk x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol

Shanks

partying is this man's middle name

he's here for a good time

not a long time

though, he'll probably be around for a long time

definitely a work smarter not harder type of guy

he doesn't see the point in worrying over stuff until the situation becomes serious

so he spends most of his time just having fun

traveling around

telling you really bad jokes

you laugh at some of them, but you don't hesitate to just stare at him if you don't find them funny

which always leaves him pouting

he gets over it thirty seconds later 

when he sees a cool fish or something to show you

he embodies that meme

you know the one

oh my gosh, you have a crush on me? how embarrassing

babe, we've literally been married for five years

that's even worse lol

you keep him from drinking himself into a coma

impressed that he hadn't done so before you met him

and when he has an especially bad hangover

you'll be there to give him cuddles and water and some medicine

which he fully takes advantage of

free pass to spend his entire day with you without interruptions?

yes, please

when he's had a long day

(ie Ben made him actually do some of his work)

(the audacity)

you pull him close and remind him that it's all worth it

life is one adventure at a time

and he's thrilled that you'll be there by his side to experience them with him

Mihawk

the swordsman is the very definition of chill

there aren't many things that can break through his facade

he just takes everything in stride

but then you arrived in his life

his home isn't exactly warm and welcoming

quite the opposite in fact

but with you there, the place has become quite lively

well, between you and Perona

you're the only person to make this man blush

the way you present him with a flower that reminded you of his eyes

or you found a new book that seemed to be right up his alley 

it really is the little things 

you make him appreciate the ordinary things life has to offer

and in exchange

Mihawk gives you his undying love

he may not be a man of many words

but your kindness never ceases to leave him speechless

as indifferent as he may seem

he is a hopeless romantic

you just bring out that side of him

between the way you keep the castle clean while he's gone

because he may live in an old castle but that doesn't mean it has to look abandoned

and cook with him

and surprise him with hot baths and a glass of wine

and read with him in the evenings

and smile at him when you think he's not looking

this man just cannot help but love you

sometimes, he feels he's too brash for you

he's not overtly violent

but he's done plenty of things in his life that would leave other people cold inside

yet you always find it within yourself to look at him so warmly

with just so much love

and tenderness

that all of his past actions don't matter anymore

with you, he always finds himself smiling