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starsofang · 13 hours

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To Be Loved is to Be Seen

johnny mactavish x f!reader

word count: 5.2k

tw: NSFW content, abuse (from other partner), hurt/comfort, smut, oral, p in v, happy ending, bad scottish accent (i tried)

Johnny hated your boyfriend. In fact, if he could string him up on a pole and castrate the bloke himself, he’d do it with a damn smile — that was how much he loathed him.

To get you to realize how shitty your boyfriend was felt like a near impossible task. Alas, you didn’t know Johnny, but Johnny certainly knew you. How could he not, when he’d spent every morning and every night, hearing your shouts and pitiful whimpers of defeat through the thin walls of your neighboring apartments?

He knew your boyfriend had spouts of anger, could tell from the sounds of drywall cracking on occasion, or the sounds of things clattering in a messy heap on the floor, sometimes shattering, sometimes rolling around after a particularly loud thud.

Your boyfriend was a nuisance that didn’t know how to care for a woman, and he made a show of it every night when Johnny heard him.

Now, Johnny was a respectful man. He’d never hurt another person unless they were deserving — perks of being in the military, it made that excuse much easier to use.

But your boyfriend? He was more than deserving. He was practically asking for Johnny to bash his pathetic face in, cowering beneath Johnny as he pleaded and begged for him to stop.

Johnny just had to figure out a way to slowly slip into your life, befriend you as a friendly neighbor, so he could kick the damn reality into that pretty head of yours. After all, Johnny would never hit you. Johnny would never call you names. Johnny would never make you cry in anguish.

The opportunity arose when he went to collect his mail and saw you standing there, fumbling with your mail key in frustration. Faulty lock, he assumed, but that was perfect for him.

“Need some ‘elp?” Johnny asked you, and when you perked your head up in surprise, he was already plotting murder in his mind when he saw the ugly bruise being sported underneath your eye.

“Oh. Yeah, actually, stupid thing never wants to unlock,” you said, and your voice up close and not through a thin wall was like sweet nectar from a flower.

He smiled with a nod, politely stepping up to your mailbox. You handed him the key, and he eagerly placed it in the lock. Wiggling it around a bit, it took him a few moments and grunts of concentration before the mailbox popped open.

Your face lit up in delight and you profusely thanked him, taking the key from his hands. Your hands were soft and warm, he noted when the two of yours brushed during the exchange, and he felt his heart swell with affection.

Such pretty hands on such a pretty girl should be kissed and held with nothing less than care. They shouldn’t be the victim of a fighting match, where it was obvious you were the losing opponent every time.

“No’ a problem. Johnny,” he introduced with his hand outstretched, and when you flashed him that smile as you introduced yourself back, he made it his absolute mission to make sure this wouldn’t be your last interaction.

The next time you saw Johnny, it was when the two of you were leaving your respective apartments at the same time (really, Johnny had been listening on for signs of when you’d leave as an excuse to leave his own place).

You lit up when you saw him, once again thanking him for helping you with the mailbox. Your eyes fluttered over to his door that he was in the process of locking, and you realized dumbly that he was your neighbor.

“I didn’t know you lived next to us, Johnny!” Us. The word made his eye twitch. “You’ve never introduced yourself.”

“No’ around all tha’ much.” He shrugged, and you hummed in understanding.

“I see. I’ve got to get to work, but it was nice seeing you, Johnny. Don’t be a stranger!”

He watched you go, feet leading you down the hall and towards the elevator of the building. He stood frozen in place, the breath in his lungs caught when he noticed the bruising on the back of your exposed calves from the skirt you wore.

A knock on his door days later had Johnny grumbling to himself, and when he checked the time, it was nearing midnight. He’d normally be on guard, what with his whole military career, but the only people that ever visited his place were Simon, Kyle, or Price.

Opening the door, it was neither of the three and instead, you. Sporting comfortable pajamas that swallowed you whole and made him want to scoop you up and keep you safe.

“Hi, Johnny! Were you sleeping?”

He was, but that didn’t matter.

“Nah, wasn’t sleepin’. Ye need somethin’, love?”

You threw him a sheepish smile that could melt any man’s heart. It was a wonder how your own man couldn’t see that. “I, ah, ran out of sugar. Baking’s my hobby, y’know? Silly me, I forgot to buy some from the shop.”

“…S’midnight.”

“…Is that a no to the sugar?”

Johnny huffed out a laugh, a smile perking on his lips. You were cute, it was to die for.

“Nah. ‘Course ye can have sugar. Tha’ all you came ‘ere for?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating something Johnny wasn’t aware of. Now that he thought about it, your shitty boyfriend wasn’t anywhere in sight, and he hadn’t heard any noise from your apartment earlier.

“Well,” you began, inhaling before slowly exhaling. “Okay, no, I don’t need the sugar. I have plenty of it, actually. It’s just, ah…”

“Go on.”

“My boyfriend went out with some friends tonight and I don’t really want to be alone. I get nervous when I’m by myself, y’know?”

Your boyfriend knew this, and didn’t even bother to bring you with? Wasn’t texting you throughout the night to give you sweet reassurances, telling you he’d be home soon? Was he even out with his friends?

“Ye dinnae have any girl friends to call?” Johnny asked carefully, not wanting to make you feel unwelcome, but also wanting to tread on a thin line. He couldn’t jump to the opportunity, or you might think he’s weird and eager.

When you shook your head with a defeated look on your face, his own heart shattering rang in his ears. The fact you had no friends to confide in, to go out and enjoy yourself with, it didn’t sit right with him.

Silently, he opened up his door a bit more to welcome you in, and you flashed him a pretty smile before eagerly prancing inside.

His apartment was a bit underwhelming, and there wasn’t much that showed he was even living in it besides the furniture to show as evidence. You didn’t seem to mind as you took it in, smile gracing your features when he gestured towards the couch.

“Ye wan’ a drink, lass?” Johnny asked you, and when you saw him standing in the kitchen, he helped up a bottle of alcohol and a bottle of juice. He was offering you a choice of either, but you didn’t see the harm in drinking a bit and letting loose.

“Why not?” You shrugged, pointing to the left hand that held the liquor. He beamed at you, satisfied by your answer and promptly began to pour you and him a drink.

“So yer boyfriend jus’ up and left ye for the night?” Johnny asked as he sat next to you on the couch, placing the glasses on the coffee table in front of you.

He watched as you eagerly took a sip of the liquor, unable to contain the amusement when your nose wrinkled up as you swallowed it down.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you sighed, lips pouting a bit in the form of a frown. He tried not to stare. “Said he needed a night off. And he deserves it, y’know?”

Johnny raised an eyebrow at you, slowly taking a gulp from his own glass before placing it back down. He definitely didn’t think your boyfriend deserved a night to himself, nor that he worked hard in the slightest.

Hell, Johnny could hear the two of you have sex on occasional nights through the shared walls, and that certainly didn’t sound like your boyfriend was working hard. If anything, it was pitiful and sad.

“Deserves it,” he hummed, and you whipped your head to look at him, causing him to snicker into his glass as he took another sip.

You looked conflicted, taking your bottom lip between your teeth again. It puffed up, causing it to turn a bright pink, and he willed himself to keep his gaze on your eyes rather than your mouth.

“He… works hard,” you defended.

“We all do,” Johnny retorted.

“Everybody deserves a night out.”

“Have ye had a night out then?”

Silence.

Johnny might’ve been pushing it too hard. After all, he knew more than you were aware of. He was sure you had no idea how thin the walls were and that he was practically a third person in your relationship issues.

“Consider this yer night out,” Johnny claimed with a warm smile, and it seemed to work because you smiled back, downing the rest of your drink.

“Thank you for keeping me company, Johnny. I know it’s late. You’re sure I’m not bothering you?”

Oh, you could never bother Johnny. He was practically head over heels just from seeing you for the first time and hearing your voice. Love at first sight, he thought, he was completely enamored with you.

“No’ a bother, dove. We’re neighbors. It’d be smart to be friends, aye?”

“Friends?” Your tone was excited and he wanted so badly to be more than that. “I’d love to be friends! Officially, now that we’re technically drinking together, right?”

You gave a playful nudge to his shoulders with yours and he felt his entire being soften with delight. He smiled at you, eyes crinkling into little crescents as he nodded in agreement.

Friends he could do. Being friends meant he would have more opportunity to try and shield you from harm, the harm being your boyfriend, and even if it took patience, he’d wait for it.

The two of you found yourselves in a flurry of conversation, the bottle of liquor dwindling down until there was nothing left. Time seemed to slip away between you, and when the clock hit 3:00 AM, a series of bangs came battering at Johnny’s door.

They were loud and angry, relentless and never ending until Johnny forced himself off of the couch to swing it open.

Your boyfriend’s face came into view and Johnny wished he could rearrange his teeth in that ugly scowl of his.

“Is she here? I heard her voice,” he demanded, and your head peeked out from behind Johnny. Guilt and shame shined in your irises, and it was as if all of the joy you felt when spending time in your newfound friendship with your neighbor had vanished into nothing.

When your boyfriend saw the sight of you, he put on a sickeningly sweet smile. If he was trying to play off his anger until he got back into your apartment, he was doing a poor job of doing so. Or it was because Johnny already knew about his true colors.

“I’m home. Let’s get you to bed, yeah? It’s late,” your boyfriend cooed, and Johnny had to stop himself from sneering at the venom that dripped beneath his tone.

You nodded silently, shuffling by Johnny and out of the threshold. Johnny and your boyfriend watched as you entered your own apartment, disappearing inside and leaving the door open.

Johnny knew what was going to come, and as much as he wanted to stop it from happening, he knew he couldn’t. Not yet.

“Thanks for, ah, taking care of her while I was out. Let’s not make it a habit,” your boyfriend practically spat, and Johnny gave him an unphased smile.

“Only if ye stop makin’ it a habit to hit ‘er every chance ye get,” Johnny replied back in the same tone, keeping his smile on his face. It was a threat, a warning, and Johnny wasn’t ashamed to make it clear. “I see another bruise on ‘er body, I’ll fuckin’ kill ye.”

Your boyfriend must not have had many people retort back to him. His face morphed into a stunned one before flashing in anger and annoyance, and when he went to snap back, Johnny shut the door in his face before he had a chance to.

He made sure to stay up the rest of the night, eyes staring at the ceiling from where he laid in bed. He kept his ears locked in to the shared wall, listening in for a single sound of fists connecting with bone or a broken wail out of your lips.

When he heard nothing, he knew he’d gotten through for now.

You’d visit his apartment when your boyfriend wasn’t around. You’d come to enjoy his company, and even went as far as going against your boyfriend’s wishes of never seeing Johnny again. You told him it was because he was your only friend, and he’d accept you with open arms every time you came knocking.

The back and forth went on for months. Johnny was even more smitten than before, and his patience for claiming you as his own was slowly slipping.

He hated seeing you sad when you’d come on nights after a bad argument. He hated seeing the tears flowing down your cheeks, smothering your delicate skin with dewy shine, reddening your pretty eyes and glossing them over with heartache.

The heartache you felt would transfer on to Johnny.

He didn’t understand why your boyfriend didn’t treat you like the lovely canvas you were. Didn’t cover you with love and affection, instead covering you with black and blue. He tainted you with colors that didn’t clash with the beauty of your skin, when you deserved to be painted with skies of pink.

Johnny knew you deserved better.

When you came on a particular night, face swollen with tears of sadness and blood, he nearly saw red. Such a delicate thing to be so cruelly used as a personal stress reliever should never have happened, and Johnny was at his wits end.

“Leave ‘im,” Johnny ordered when he brought you inside of his apartment. He stood in front of you in the vacancy of his bathroom, a warm washcloth nursing your wounds with tender hands, grimacing every time you winced from pain.

“I can’t,” you whispered, and he shook his head.

“Bullshit. Leave ‘im. A pretty bird like ye doesn’t deserve this.” When you said nothing and stared down at your hands in your lap, he pushed further. “So many men out there wouldn’t lay a finger on ye. They’d never hurt ye. They’d never hit ye. I’d never do that.”

Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and he allowed it, locking your gazes with one another as a heavy silence filled the room. Your eyes remained filled with unshed tears, glistening in the dim lighting of his bathroom. To you, you looked like broken mess. To him, you looked like you held the entire night sky in your eyes.

Everything happened so quickly, Johnny’s mind nearly didn’t comprehend it. One second, you were staring, the next, your lips had crashed into his without a second thought.

Even with a split lip that tasted faintly of metallic blood, he thought you tasted divine. It was as if sweetness exuded from all parts of you, painting him with a sugary high that he could never get enough of.

One hand strayed to your hair while the other rested along the bathroom counter where your hips rested. Your own hands fisted the front of his shirt, tugging him closer, as if scared he’d fade away.

He planned on going nowhere. This was all he ever wanted, from the moment he heard you for the first time as his neighbor from behind the walls of your apartments.

When he first heard you belting out a song he didn’t know the name of in the security of your own place, presumably when your boyfriend wasn’t around to quiet you down.

When he ran into you at the mailboxes and finally learned your name. When he heard your speaking voice that wasn’t filled with anguish, trembling with shaky tears.

Johnny pressed into you further, consuming every part of the kiss with an eager passion. When he heard the faintest whimper melt from your mouth into his own mouth, he would’ve killed the entire world to hear it again.

“Dinnae be quiet,” he breathed into your lips, smile curling against them. “No need for tha’. Can be as loud as ye want here.”

Your eyes blinked prettily at him from where your foreheads connected. His thumb grazed along your cheek in such a tender manner, it pained your heart in the best way.

Your boyfriend never touched you that way. Never treated you that way. Never loved you that way.

Johnny returned his mouth to yours and you fell back into the clumsy dance of lips and tongue, like a waltz the two of you were learning with one another.

It was intense and fierce, yet gentle and passionate at the same time. You felt dizzy, your mind clouding with nothing but want and desire.

It was wrong of you to do this. Johnny was your friend and neighbor, and you had a boyfriend.

But then you thought back on everything Johnny had been making you realize — a man who loved you would never treat you how your boyfriend treated you. He’d treat you how Johnny was treating you now, soft and caring, pouring his heart and soul into every delicate touch.

On late nights when you stayed up, Johnny was there with the door already unlocked for you. He’d make you laugh, make you smile, he’d heal the inner child you desperately needed to seek. You’d lost her along the way, and Johnny was there to remind her.

“Johnny,” you breathed out, and his smile returned.

“Wha’ is it, dove?”

“I—“ You inhaled sharply, trying to collect your scrambled mind and piece together the words. “I want you. Please.”

Johnny sucked in his own breath, eyes piercing into yours. They flickered along the features of your battered face, and even in this state, he graveled in your beauty.

“I can make tha’ happen.”

Johnny laid you on his bed as if you were the most precious thing to cushion it. His hands roamed your body like mapping out every roll and curve, keeping it noted in his head for future endeavors.

He took his time with you, placing gentle kisses along every bruise, bump, and scar that your sorry excuse of a boyfriend had left embedded in you to remember forever. Johnny didn’t look at them in disgust like you expected, no — he ravished them like fine china, careful and precise, spending as much time needed to ensure each and every one was cherished.

His hands were eager yet patient as he stripped you of your clothes, making sure to take his off in the process so you didn’t feel uncomfortably exposed.

He only thought of your best interests, and it made you feel desired.

“Look at ye,” he breathed, hands slowly gliding down the plains of your stomach and to your thighs. He carefully parted them, eyes dropping down to the glisten of your cunt, taking it in. He sucked in a breath, thumbs stroking along your knees.

Your hands lifted to cover your face, embarrassment filling you to the core. He tsked, lifting a hand to grasp your arm and pull it from your face. He pinned it lightly to the side of your head, peering down at you.

“None of tha’,” he pleaded. “Wanna see ye, bonnie.”

You nodded your head, silently agreeing with him. He took his hand off your arm, flashing you a pleased smile.

He returned to caressing, cascading rough hands down your sides, to your hips, to your thighs, until they traveled back up. The touch of his fingers was light against your core, testing the waters.

“Oh,” you gasped, air getting caught in your lungs. He smiled again, all teeth and all crinkly eyes, before delving his venture further.

His index found your clit and he began a slow and antagonizing pace, circling and stroking, eyes focused on your face to piece together your reaction.

Your eyes were fluttering at the ceiling, breasts rising and falling with every staggered breath.

It was a sight to see. Johnny felt his chest swell with pride that finally, after pining after you for months, feelings hidden away in the dark, he was the one making you this way.

His finger slipped down, seeking the wetness that seeped shamelessly. He scooped his finger in the mess, lifting it to his mouth to wrap his lips around it.

You watched, eyes dazed and hazy. You shouldn’t have enjoyed the sight, but it burned a fire in you.

His smile turned into a bashful grin when he popped his finger out of his mouth, and before you had a chance to breathe, he slipped that same finger inside, prodding you open.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered pathetically.

“Yeah?” he breathed. You nodded dumbly. He huffed out a laugh, curling his finger in a way that had you squirming. “Look bonnie like this. Ye my pretty girl, aye?”

You nodded again, hands fisting his bedsheets beneath you.

“Won’t ever hurt ye,” he continued, and before you knew it, his second finger joined in. “Won’t ever make ye cry. Too pretty to cry, aren’t ye?”

“Johnny,” you pleaded. He pumped his fingers slowly at first, but the sound of his name on your lips urged him to increase the pace.

It was heaven hearing it come from you, and combined with your sweet moans? He was hearing church bells in his mind.

You squirmed beneath him, panting and writhing like the pretty thing you were. He wanted more, he wanted to hear you.

Johnny dove his head down, fingers still buried to the knuckle. His tongue poked out to press flat against your clit, lathing you in bliss and making you see stars.

Your boyfriend never made you feel this way. You were on a cloud, floating peacefully in the skies above.

He could never pull the desperate moans out of you, he could never make your thighs tremble like you’d just run a marathon around the world.

Johnny’s mohawk was soft on your fingertips when you grasped them. You held back, only gripping softly.

“Pretty girl, ye can grip harder than tha’,” he assured when he came up for air. You stared down at him with wet eyes, filled with hazy pleasure. He wouldn’t return to using his mouth until you followed his order, so you did, grabbing a fistful of hair and lightly pushing him against your cunt.

He groaned in approval, burying his face between your legs and eagering fucking his fingers in you.

The stimulation caused your back to arch, a moan bursting out of you. The sound surprised you. You’d never heard yourself sound so wrecked, especially before the main event.

This was how sex was supposed to feel. Cherished, adored, and downright sinful.

The knot in your stomach seemed to tighten, and your thighs clumsily squirmed around, encasing his head between them. You panted breathlessly, the sounds filling the room with an unforgivable act of immorality.

“Johnny, Johnny, I—“ Your words were cut off by your own broken sob, and he feasted harder, urging you to your breaking point more and more.

It was too much. You wouldn’t be able to hold back, nor did you want to. This feeling was too blissful to pull away from, so you allowed yourself the moment of selfishness.

When it hit you, your entire body convulsed. Your stomach tightened and clenched, thighs gripping tight around Johnny’s head, quivering with every movement.

“Tha’s it, dove. Good girl,” he praised. You keened, eyes squeezing shut as your climax came over you.

His fingers slowed their pace but didn’t dare leave your body as he pulled you through the last drops of your orgasm. When he felt you had enough, he swiftly pulled them out, staring up at you with eyes pouring with admiration.

“Look at ye,” he whispered, reaching a hand out to stroke over your cheek. You hadn’t realized they were wet with tears until he stroked them away with a thumb. “Gorgeous girl. Tha’ okay?”

“Absolutely,” you breathed, voice broken.

You regained your breath, chest no longer heaving like a panting dog, and you came out of your clouded haze.

“Let me make ye feel even better, aye? Can fill ye up, wanna feel ye, please, bonnie—“

You nodded before even making up your mind, but really, you didn’t need to. It was already made up the moment he let you into his home and offered friendship.

Johnny climbed over you, careful not to crush you. He hovered, face aligned with yours and a smile on his face. You stared at him in awe.

That smile of his could light up the whole world if he allowed it. It lit up yours, after all.

His hand dove between your bodies, and when you felt the head of him slowly press to your entrance, you sucked in a breath.

He took his time, slowly easing into you, filling you and leaving you with greedily wanting more and more.

“Oh god,” you groaned, and he followed after. His eyes were squeezed shut as you took him in fully, and when he bottomed out, he forced them open to gaze down at you.

“Look at me the ‘ole time, aye? Wanna see ye,” he said, and who were you to deny it?

Johnny began to move and you had to force your eyes open every time they threatened to flutter closed. He filled you from an emptiness you weren’t aware you had until now, and you never wanted it to leave.

Just like with his fingers, he started off slow. He didn’t want to hurt you, but the more he stared at the pleasured, fucked-out look on your face, his resolve broke and he found himself losing control.

One particularly hard thrust had you gasping, hands scrabbling for purchase on his biceps, and that was all he needed to snap.

Hips thrust erratically into you, plunging deeper and deeper every single hit. The noises were nothing but dirty, a mix of sinful slaps and shaky moans filling the atmosphere.

“Takin’ me so good, bonnie,” he sighed, hand cradling your cheek as he continued his relentless torture. “Made for me, yeah?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, fingernails dipping into his skin and marking him with crescent shaped indents. “All for you, Johnny, nobody else.”

“Tha’s right, sweet girl.” His head tilted down to graze his lips along your jaw, peppering loving kisses up to your ear. “Dinnae need tha’ bloke of yours anymore. ‘M gonna take care of ye.”

That sounded divine. You wanted all of that and more.

“Please,” you begged, though unsure what for.

Johnny smiled against your skin before pulling himself back up. He grabbed hold of your legs, gently pressing them up so your knees were level with your chest.

His eyes never strayed from your face, not even when he went back to giving you everything he had in the way he fucked you.

He was proudly marking his territory, taking everything you had while giving you everything in return.

You couldn’t compress the moans that escaped you with every brutal thrust in your cervix. He was hitting every damn spot in you, as if he had your entire body already mapped out.

“Gonna take ye away from ‘im,” he grunted, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your thighs where they pressed against your chest. “Never gonna let another man hurt ye again.”

You cried, tears pouring down your cheeks in rivers. Your body was so overwhelmed with the pleasure he brought you, but god, you wanted all of it. You were going to make sure you took it all.

Johnny continued his string of praises as he glided in and out of you, your cunt molding around him like the perfect fit. He was fast and hard with his actions, yet his words were sweet and tender, only ever showering you with things you needed to hear.

“Ye gonna give me another one, pretty girl?” he asked, his own voice nearly failing on him from his own pleasure.

You nodded quickly, eyes locked on to his. He grinned in approval, cocking his head to the side.

“C’mon, bonnie. Ken ye can do it f’me.”

Those words of encouragement were enough to have you clenching around him, body succumbing to your second orgasm. You felt absolutely divine, head completely spacing out and relieving itself of any worries or stress.

“There ye go,” he cooed, unstopping of his thrusts. He chased his own release, sweat beading along his forehead and dripping down his temple. “Such a good girl, bonnie.”

You whimpered, body spent and exhausted. You didn’t stop that from allowing him to seek out his pleasure. The thought of him filling you, of fully claiming you as his stirred a wild thought in your mind, and you needed it.

“Please, Johnny,” you whined, and he let out a breathless chuckle. It vibrated you to the core.

“Dinnae worry, dove, I’ll give ye what ye want.”

It didn’t take him long to find himself. His movements became less precise and more sloppy, hands slipping from your thighs when his grip became unfocused.

Warmth filled you from the inside and you reveled in its comfort, sighing shakily. He pumped himself in you a few more times, making sure to get out every drop, before stopping to catch his breath.

Johnny looked gorgeous like this. Glistening in sweat, lips parted to suck in air, cheeks flushed pink from the warmth that took over the room.

You couldn’t stop your hand from lifting off of his arm to gently caress his cheek. When he felt your touch, he smiled, leaning into it.

Your heart nearly burst in fondness.

Johnny cleaned you up and let you change into his clothes, which you happily put on.

The two of you laid in the comfort of his bed, his arm tucking you into his side, your eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“I meant everythin’ I said, dove. ‘M gonna take ye away from ‘im, ye won’t ever have to deal with ‘im again,” Johnny said softly.

The thought of leaving your boyfriend was scary, but the thought of leaving behind Johnny after this was scarier. You knew what the obvious choice was.

You had to trust him. And trust him you did.

“Okay,” you whispered in return, and when he turned his head to smile down at you, you’d happily go along this journey into the unknown with him.

finally got around to writing smut like i’ve been planning on and what better choice than mr mactavish himself 🙏🏻 hes so yummy i wanna eat him

#cod #call of duty #soap cod #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john mactavish #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #smut #cod smut #soap smut #hurt/comfort #call of duty smut #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #cod x reader

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storiesbyjes2g · 1 day

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What is this about you say? Stay tuned!

Thanks to @trumpets0ng and @ladybugsimblr for letting me use your sims' credentials lol. Walker Pearson from Jett Studios (trumpet) was the photographer, and Alex Greene (LB) was the author. He also wrote Bailey Kay's article.

(transcript under the cut)

A well-dressed man walked into the studio, swaggy and confident, with more drip than a coffee pot. His perfectly tailored suit glimmered under the stage lights, looking just as expensive as one would imagine it to be. My initial thought upon seeing this cat with a larger than life personality was, “Oh, great. Here comes another industry brat.” Then, he walked up to my assistant, smiled, extended his hand, and said, “Hi! I’m Orange.” That’s when I knew I’d been completely wrong about him.

I started off slow.

ALEX: How’ve you been? How’s life treating you?

ORANGE: Life is wonderful, thanks for asking.

I’m excited about my baby sister being back on the west coast! She wanted to spread her wings and moved east; that’s where she met and married her guy. But she’s a mom now, and my parents are getting old, so she’s back. I can’t wait to spend time with my nephew and get to know my brother-in-law better.

ALEX: Wow, okay. It’s always nice to have the family close. So where have you been all this time, my man?

He leaned back into the sofa with a huge sigh and a smile.

ORANGE: Where have I been… I’ve been everywhere, man!

ALEX: Oh word?

ORANGE: Yeah, man. I pride myself on not being a prideful person…which is probably the most proud thing I could say.

He laughs at his own joke, wiping fake sweat away from his brow. And all at once, he had me. I was sucked into his energy.

ORANGE: I appreciate everything my parents did for me, but I was never interested in following in their footsteps.

ALEX: Never?

ORANGE: Not really. I was kinda artsy as a kid. I can sing, but I never had a passion for it. Don’t get me wrong…I’m a gregarious kind of guy, so I wanted to be in the public. Just not doing what my parents did.

ALEX: So what did you do?

ORANGE: Whatever I could. I didn’t want it said of me that my life was handed to me, so I moved out, got a crappy apartment, and worked as a barista for a while. People told me I was funny, so I started writing sketches and going to the comedy clubs.

ALEX: And then sim.TV called.

Laughter erupts, startling everyone on set. It’s loud and hearty and sounds like that uncle at the family barbeque.

ORANGE: It didn’t exactly happen that way, but yes…eventually. I honestly don’t know what happened. I’m guessing someone just happened to be at one of my shows and thought I would be a good fit for this new talk show they were planning.

ALEX: What does this mean for you?

ORANGE: Wow… This means… It’s so validating. I’m middle-aged now, and all my peers are off doing so many amazing things. It was really hard to resist the urge to go to my parents and ask for help. But the thing that kept me going was this moment right here. I knew that if I stayed the course, eventually something would happen, and I would have an immense feeling of pride. And I do.

ALEX: That’s so dope. So, tell us about the show.

ORANGE: It’s called “The Pulse,” and it’s all about keeping you entertained and informed about what’s going on in the entertainment world.

ALEX: So you’re keeping your finger on the pulse of the industry.

ORANGE: You get it. I’m so grateful for the opportunity because it’s so perfect for me. I grew up around it. I know all dirty secrets, but I also recognize and respect the beauty in it.

ALEX: So from your interviews, should we expect to get a different perspective of celebrity life?

ORANGE: I hope so. I don’t want to be just another talk show host, asking the same tired questions. One thing I want to do differently is get the audience involved. Everyone watching has their own reasons for being interested in someone, so if there’s something they want to know, I’d like to give them the answers.

ALEX: Okay! I like that. Kinda like, power to the people.

ORANGE: Exactly.

ALEX: So, why Nick?

ORANGE: Why not Nick? He’s the hottest thing smoking right now, and he’s not even working. I’m trying to get on his level! But seriously though, I think we’d vibe well. We’re similar in our values and ways of working, and I don’t think he’s ever done a TV interview before, so I think it’s fitting that he be my first guest.

ALEX: Best of luck to you, man. Thanks for sitting down with us.

#ts4 story #sims 4 story #sims story #Piersons and Friends #the piersons #orange bailey moon #nick wilkinson #the pulse

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zombiigrll · 2 days

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LONELY ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 1061 ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ angst to fluff, swearing, depressed/traumatized reader, reader is glenn and maggies adoptive child, intended lowercase, the walking dead 7x1 spoilers, death mentions, lack of eating, suicidal thoughts, use of y/n .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ hi! this is my first time writing and posting anything on tumblr so im sorry if its not the best </3 ive never really done oneshots before either so i dont really know what im doing LMAO hope you still enjoy!

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it was supposed to be an easy run. get maggie to the hilltop and get her help, that's all it was supposed to be. but, of course, nothing could ever be that easy. not for you. the last thing you expected to see, however, was your father-figure getting his skull beaten in, and almost having to witness your boyfriend getting his arm chopped off. you were distressed. you couldn't function properly. you had already lost your family once before at the beginning of the outbreak, and all of those same feelings came back after losing glenn. he had been there for you since the start, saving you from dying with your family. and now he was gone and there was nothing you could do.

you had fallen into a deep depression, similar to the one you had before. you locked yourself in your room, not eating, not drinking, occasionally getting up to use the restroom, but other than that, you were bedridden. you hadn't even changed your clothes from that night. the clothes that were stained in glenns blood. hell, even his blood remained dried across your face. you felt as lonely as ever, but at the same time, you knew you weren't. because every single day you heard knocks at your door. it was carl.

"y/n, please. just open the door. i can help you." he desperately spoke from the other side of the door.

you felt like shit for making him continue to come to your door everyday just for you to stubbornly remain in your room, but it felt like nothing mattered anyways. eventually, he'd give up, right? that's what you thought. "go away." you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. "just open the door. please." he begged again. he understood your struggles. he was aware of why you were acting this way, and he couldn't blame you. he knew how it felt to lose family members and people close to him. unfortunately enough for him, you stayed where you were, not opening the door for him yet again. but after almost a week had passed, he began getting more worried. he begged at your door for you to open it, he tried opening it himself but you had locked the door, blocking it as well so no one could enter. you didn't care. you were isolating yourself, barely sleeping. the only times you slept were when you cried so hard you fell asleep. you felt miserable. you were giving up on everything, hoping one day it'd all just end and you wouldn't have to worry anymore. you wouldn't have to worry about anyone else dying, because you'd be with them. no more funerals, no more fighting for your life... you laid awake on your bed, tears silently falling from your eyes as you stared blankly at your ceiling, those terrible thoughts swirling through your brain. but this night was different. you had opened your window, which carl took as the perfect opportunity. he was tired of not being able to help you due to your stubbornness, so he decided to crawl through your window. *thump!*

you quickly jolted up at the sound, staring at carl who was slowly sitting back up after not-so-gracefully falling into your room. he grabbed his hat and placed it back on top of his head before looking over at you. you stared at him with tears glazing over your eyes, your face scrunching up as you brought a hand to your mouth. "i..." you were speechless. your emotions got the better of you and you began sobbing. he quickly walked over to you, cupping your face with his hands as he looked down at you sympathetically. "don't cry..." he softly spoke, but his eyes quickly noticed the dried blood that was still on your face. "y/n..." "i-i'm s.. sorry." you sobbed, averting your eyes as you crossed your arms around your waist. he shook his head as he softly acknowledged your beat-up appearance, moving your arms from covering your waist as he pulled you in for a big hug. "don't be sorry."

you quickly returned the hug, squeezing him tightly as you sobbed into his chest. he broke from the hug, looking back down at you and your bloodstained clothes. "let's go get you cleaned up, yeah?"

you silently nodded. he helped you stand up and you almost fell over, but he quickly caught you. "...let's get you something to eat, too." ... the two of your were now in the bathroom. he helped you sit down on the seat of the toilet before grabbing a rag, getting it wet before walking back over to you. "this is gonna be really cold." he smiled warmly, slowly bringing the rag up to your face and wiping the blood off. you flinched slightly at the touch. as he's cleaning your face, his face turns a bit perplexed. "why... why didn't you open the door?"

you avert your eyes to the ground as you begin messing with your hands. "i just wanted to be alone, i don't know." carl looks at you with a bit of a somber gaze before continuing to clean you up. "i'm sorry for breaking in. i was worried about you. just... please, don't do that again. if you ever need help, i'm here. you know that, right?" "i know..." you looked up at him. "i didn't want you to see me like this. i..." you began tearing up again as you spoke. he quickly sets the rag down and puts both his hands on your cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. "i know, i know. it's okay." shortly after, he pulled you in for a quick kiss, his hands remaining on your face as he pulled away. he uses one of his hands to wipe away the stray strands of hair over your face, tucking them behind your ear. "you're so pretty. you know that, right?" he smiled warmly. "i love you." you laughed with a smile, a tear rolling down your cheek. "i love you, too." "let's go get you some new clothes, okay? and some food. i'll make you whatever you want." carl asks, grabbing both your hands. you nod, standing up in sync with him as you followed him back to the room. god, you were so lucky to have him. ─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

#the walking dead #carl grimes #twd #carl grimes x reader #carl x reader #carl grimes one shot #twd x reader #twd imagine #the walking dead oneshot #the walking dead imagine #twd fluff #twd angst #fluff #angst #carl grimes x y/n #carl x y/n

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thebiggerbear · 2 days

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"You're safe now, I'm here." - Soldier Boy x Reader - Prompt Response

Summary: Soldier Boy has been on a ton of dangerous missions in his time, fought a lot of battles, but never did he imagine he would be undertaking the one you had just tasked him with. Shit.

A/N: This is a prompt from @sydnee-kom-spacekru. A sort of sequel to the prompt response for "Sleep. I'll keep you safe." Been working on this since January 3rd. I had way too much fun with this one.

Happy Mother's Day to all of the mothers out there, all of the fur baby mamas, and all those who celebrate!

@deans-spinster-witch this is what popped into my head when you said "dangerous mission" lol. Once it was in there, I couldn't get it out. I hope it's decent and that you like it.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: Soldier Boy being himself; some misogyny; some homophobic language; some antiquated thinking (SB); angst; a lot of mentions of shit (yes, literal shit); language (I guess?); some smut; mention of breeding kink; a bit of a lactation kink (I know they did the Coke and milk thing in the show but you can't tell me he wouldn't have at least been on the verge of this kink if the opportunity arose)

Word Count: 11k+

SB Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy

“You’re safe now, I’m here.”

Ben let out an aggravated sigh for what felt like the fortieth time and turned back to the table, his nose wrinkled. He glanced down and saw his daughter’s wide eyes watching him as she kicked her little legs, slobbering all over the fingers of one hand she had in her mouth. He made a face and shook his head, remembering when he told her “You’re lucky you’re cute, kid”, when she’d done the same thing about an hour before. He didn’t know what was so tasty about those fingers especially when there were other tastier options available.

Speaking of which, you just had to pick the fucking perfect time to do your pumping shit so he would be stuck doing this shit, in the literal sense of the word. Ben thought he’d been on dangerous missions before but nothing ever made him want to retreat in the other direction more than the one he was about to embark on. The smell wafted up to him once more as the baby kicked her legs again.

“Christ, this kid fucking stinks.”

“Language!”

He rolled his eyes and glanced back over his shoulder, though he couldn’t see you. “It’s not like she understands what the fuck I’m saying!”

“Ben! We talked about this!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, turning back to his little girl. “No cursing around the baby,” he mocked you in a high voice, smirking when a small smile formed on her face.

Another wave hit him and he held a hand up to his nose. “Are you almost done in there?” He complained.

“No! I still have a little more to go.” He knew that; he could hear the machine still making its weird noises almost as if it was next to his ear. He hated and loved that thing. Hated it because it was so damn loud to his ears and it ruined a perfectly sexy image in his head when he first saw you doing it. Loved it because it was helping your body do one of the natural things it was designed to do and it also allowed him to get some one on one time with you out of the house for the occasional few hours if you could get Elena or Queen Lesbo to babysit. As a matter of fact, as harsh as the sounds were and how unsexy it was, it got him downright hard sometimes when he thought of either scenario because both brought it all back to sex for him. Either he was daydreaming about fucking another baby into you while watching you or he was thinking about how he was going to be fucking you later that evening when the two of you were alone. This time, though, it was going to be neither.

You were getting ready to go out to have lunch with Elena, have some girl time or some shit. Whatever the fuck that meant. It certainly wasn’t what he’d been thinking the first time you mentioned it, which to him was a complete fucking wasted opportunity. He wasn’t into Elena at all or The One-Eyed Bitch Queen but he was definitely into seeing you get off. Just as long as it wasn’t another guy, he was good with it. But instead, his hopes had been dashed when your expression of disgust transformed into you pinching the bridge of your nose and explaining what girl time for you actually meant. His annoyance grew (and his nerves skyrocketed though he would never tell you that) when you mentioned he would be the one babysitting this time. He wasn’t happy but neither were you and when it came down to it, you were the victor of that argument.

And now he had this shit on top of it, pun very much fucking intended. Needless to say, Ben was beyond done at this point.

“Just change the diaper already,” you urged, your tone strained with the last threads of patience. “The longer she stays in her own mess, the more likely she is to get a rash and possible infection. Then she will be in pain and she’ll have to see the doctor. We don’t want that to happen. I’ve told you this time and time again and I’ve shown you how to do it. No more excuses, Ben. Just change it.”

Ben could feel his ire rising. “So you want me to do what you should be doing? I’m not the goddamn woman here!” He regretted it as soon as he said it. He heard you turn the machine off and he knew he was in for it now.

“What did you just say?” He heard you ask menacingly from the other room. Oh fuck. He knew he had about ten seconds to turn this around or the rest of the day and night were going to be shit. Worse than the actual shit he was smelling. He’d be lucky if he’d be able to sit next to you at the table later at dinner, never mind touch you again for the next few days.

“Nothing,” he grumbled, pulling a new diaper from the open package next to him and glancing down at the squirming baby in front of him. He was relieved when he heard the machine start up again and leaned over the table to lay down the law to his daughter. “Alright, look, kid, we gotta make some sort of deal here. You can’t be shitting up a storm and stinking up the place while your mother is out. Piss I can deal with. Puke, bad but doable. Shit…no fucking way.” He began to unbutton her onesie, screwing up his face in disgust as the smell slapped him in the face. “So if you really care about your old man and you want him to be happy, you’ll stop shitting all over the goddamn place. Got it?”

The baby gurgled back at him and he saw more drool coming out of her little mouth.

Ben shook his head, giving her a sharp look. The least she could do was not look so happy about him having to do this for her. He gently pulled her legs out of the onesie as you’d shown him how to do (he ripped one too many the first week she was home) and he frowned when he saw a damp brown stain, the smell becoming even worse. He lifted her legs and as he’d suspected, the shit was fucking everywhere, having catapulted past the edge of the diaper and down her back. He briefly shut his eyes and looked away, groaning loudly, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He attempted to take a breath that didn’t smell like he was wading around in the worst shit someone ever took. Like he was that little bastard Termite and he’d shot too far off the mark.

“Now what?” You yelled back.

“She shit everywhere! It’s all up and down her back.” He looked back down at his daughter. “Really?” Another gurgle. “Christ.”

“Yeah, because she’s been sitting in a full diaper for the last thirty minutes while you’ve been non-stop complaining about it, that’s why! Just get her cleaned up and into a new diaper, some new clothes, and then put her in her bouncy chair so you can clean the table. Or if you’re feeling adventurous, give her a bath. A bath is probably better.”

“Why don’t you come in here and fucking handle it then? I’ve told you, my sense of smell is about ten times what yours is!”

You huffed out an aggravated breath. “Because you have to learn how to take care of her, Ben! You’re her father for God’s sake. You should be able to handle one damn diaper change without being a child about it! What if I wasn’t here anymore? You’d be the one doing it all then.”

He straightened up at that, glaring back in your direction. “What do you mean if you weren’t here? Where the fuck would you go?”

“Language, Ben! Jesus!”

His jaw clenched and he turned back to grab a fresh wipe or five. He bunched them up in his hand and lifted the baby’s legs and began to wipe. There was so much shit, the wipes were filled instantly and it got onto his hand. “Fucking hell!” His daughter’s smile faded and she began to look as if she were about to cry.

“What now?” You snapped.

“It’s all over my goddamn hand, that’s what!” He bellowed.

“Well, wipe it off, get her cleaned up, then wash your hands.” There was no compassion in your tone, only irritation.

Ben should have shut the fuck up right then and there, and just done what you’d tasked him with. But, he was fucking done and livid at your obvious lack of sympathy. “This isn’t my fucking job! It’s yours! You should be doing this! Real men don’t change their kid’s shitty diaper! Women do!”

The machine shut off again but this time, Ben didn’t give a fuck. He’d had it. He knew you’d be pissed at what he’d just said but too fucking bad. It was true, whether you liked it or not. No matter what today’s society had to say or not. Women were the caregivers, the nurturers or whatever the fuck he’d heard on that bald-headed doctor’s show the other day, the givers of life or some shit. Real men did their job in making the kid, being the father, and putting food on the table for his family while also providing a roof over their heads. That’s how it always worked and that’s how it should still be today. He’d done his job: he’d protected you, knocked you up with his kid, and stuck around to be its father, even after finding out it wasn’t going to be the son he’d initially hoped for. And here you were, trying to get him to fucking play Mr. Mom so you could go out for a few hours and get some girl time that wasn’t even going to reap any benefits for him after you’d left the kid with him all afternoon? No fucking way. His jaw tightened as he heard you approaching quickly. He didn’t care how pissed you were; he wasn’t backing down.

But just then, the baby began to cry, having been scared by him yelling angrily (and probably because she was wet and uncomfortable and had been for some time now). He glanced down at her, his jaw unclenching and his features softening slightly. Fuck no. Ben could withstand a lot of shit (minus actual shit), and not a lot affected him, but his daughter’s cries? And because of him? That was his kryptonite. “No, no, no. Don’t cry, Princess. Daddy’s sorry he yelled, okay? He didn’t mean to scare you,” he quietly soothed. He went to pick her up to hold her, forgetting that she had shit all over her, and he only realized it when it dripped all down the front of his shirt and his hands and arms were covered with it as he balanced her against his chest. “Ahhh shit!” The baby began to cry louder.

You appeared, the top of your dress fixed and buttoned, a furious expression on your face. You held out your hands. “You’re safe now, I’m here,” you spat. “Give her to me.”

Ben glared down at you. He had been spoiling for a fight a moment ago but after the baby started to cry, some of the fury went out of him, and apparently right into you it looked like. “Listen, don’t get all pissy because—”

“I said,” you snapped. “Give her to me.”

Ben shot you a look but did as you said. He watched as you got shit all over you but you didn’t even flinch. Instead, you snatched the fresh diaper from the table and unfolded it to place behind your daughter’s poop chute before grabbing the canister of fresh wipes and a towel. You didn’t even look at him as you passed by him to head into the bathroom. Fuck, he was definitely in trouble.

He grimaced down at his messy shirt and removed it, balling it up and throwing it into the baby’s laundry basket. He made his way to the open door of the bathroom, stepping in to wash his hands and forearms at the sink as he watched you in the mirror, sitting on the edge of the tub and filling it with water, the baby’s own tub inside it. You were cooing at your daughter who wasn’t crying anymore but letting out little whines that threatened to extend back into a crying jag if need be. The baby was unhappy and from the looks of it, so were you.

He dried his hands as you began to use the fresh wipes to clean your daughter. “There we go, Ellie,” you murmured. “We’re going to get you all nice and clean, okay?”

Hearing your soft-toned reassurances to the baby, Ben figured now might be as good a time as any to try to start melting away some of your anger with him. He cleared his throat. “If you want, you don’t have to use that thing. I can get in the tub with her. I have to clean up anyway.” He gestured to his bare chest but you didn’t even look up.

“I think you’ve done quite enough today, thank you,” you answered, your tone full of ice. Yeah, he was in fucking trouble. Fuck.

“Don’t be like that. I’ve told you, my sense of smell is ten times more powerful than yours. I tried and it just didn’t work out.” He crossed his arms, his jaw tight. Why would you be fucking pissed at him? He tried his best. He got shit all over for him as a result for Christ’s sake. And he only spoke the truth.

“And what the fuck do you think this is? Chocolate? Paint?” You gestured to the shitty fresh wipes sitting in the diaper and to your ruined dress. That wasn’t what stopped him short; you never cursed in front of your daughter.

You continued to carefully clean the baby in your lap. “I told you when I found out I was pregnant that I would do it myself. You could take off and go do whatever you wanted to do after you held up your end of the deal. You could go get high, get drunk, fuck a ton of women, play at being a superhero — whatever. But no, you said you wanted to stay. Insisted on it, actually. I told you then.” You threw another freshwipe into the diaper and grabbed a clean one. “If you stay, if you really want this, then you need to be all in. Do you remember that?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I am all in.”

“You call this all in?” You gestured towards the messy baby who had her hands in her mouth, watching her mother, tears still dotting her eyes.

Ben started to feel uncomfortable, something almost like shame itching at his skin, and he didn’t care for it. He dropped his gaze to the ground. “So I didn’t change one shitty diaper. You don’t need to make a big fucking deal over it.”

“Ben,” you seethed. “Look at me.”

He reluctantly glanced up at you, still annoyed.

“She’s your daughter and she can’t do these things for herself right now. Sometimes it’s going to be messy and sometimes it’s going to smell so bad you gag. And yeah, sometimes it’s going to make you uncomfortable, but you push through all of that because you’re her father and you love her no matter what. Because you want to take care of her, to make sure she is healthy and happy every single day. She’s our responsibility for the rest of our lives. It’s no longer about you, me, or anyone else. It’s about her. Just her. That’s it.”

He unclenched his jaw, hearing the seriousness of what you were saying, the truth he didn’t want to think about underlying your very words. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his daughter, he did, but why were you so insistent on giving him the dirty work? You knew how he felt about doing this type of shit. Not to mention, it felt like you were trying to shame him for not wanting to change one fucking diaper, like you were implying that he wasn’t a good father if he didn’t waltz into the nursery, smiling and eager to do it. He was a good father and a damn good provider. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t even have this place to call home. He was the one who sacrificed and played nice with the old bitch and Butcher. Hell, If it wasn’t for him, neither of you would even be here right now!

Ben hated himself when he had that thought. What the fuck was wrong with him? But since he didn’t want to look at that too closely, instead he turned it back on you.

“I don’t need you lecturing me on how to be a father. I am a good father, goddammit! Hell, I’m a better father than my old man ever was. I provide for her and you every single day. I gave up everything to protect you, be with you, and be there to take care of my kid. Which is a lot fucking more than some of the other dames I’ve knocked up over the years can say. I put my life on the line for you both! And this is the thanks I get? Because I didn’t change one shitty fucking diaper?” He scoffed. “You are one ungrateful bitch.”

Your eyes widened slightly and Ben regretted his words the moment they flew out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say those things, not to you.

Your eyes dropped to your daughter in your lap who was staring back up at you. You nodded and after a moment, you scowled up at him. “Well, since we’re such a burden and keeping you from your great life…don’t let the door hit you on your misogynistic and spoiled ass on the way out.” He could see your eyes shimmering but he could also see the absolute fury and ice daggers you were shooting him with, too. He knew then just how badly he had fucked up.

“Y/N, I—”

“I mean it. Get your shit and leave. I’ll do this alone just like I planned to all along anyway. There you go, you’re free. No more nagging from this ungrateful bitch, no more having to act like you give a shit about either of us, no more being weighed down. You’re free to go and get fucked up and drink all you want, Soldier Boy. Go knock up some more dames and then leave them to raise those kids all on their own, too. You know, like a real man does.” If your glare could kill alone, Ben would be six feet under right now, the one thing that could end him that the Ivans never found out about.

You placed your daughter in her little tub and stormed over to him, shoving him out the door. You couldn’t really move him but he was so caught off guard at your outburst, your words, that he moved where you pushed him. “And best of all, no more shitty fucking diapers!” You slammed the bathroom door in his face and locked the door, knowing it wouldn’t keep him out if he wanted in, but the message was clear. You were done and you were willing to go it alone; you didn’t need him and you had enough of his bullshit. He’d not only heard it in your voice, your words, but he’d also seen it in your eyes. That hurt way more than he ever thought it would.

He stood there staring at the door, stunned. His daughter began to cry and he heard you soothe her with “Shhh, it’s okay, sweetness. Mommy’s here. We’re going to get you all cleaned up and feeling better in no time. Don’t you worry, Ellie.” You began to coo to her as you bathed her and before long, she was making happy noises again. You’d even made her laugh once.

Ben stood there, not feeling right about what just happened or that his family was on the other side of the door. He could break it down if he wanted to, you both knew that, but he wouldn’t. Nor would he break the lock to get in. He knew he had let his irritation get the best of him and he’d said some things that he couldn’t take back, no matter how he might try to apologize now. Why the fuck had he said those things, anyway?

He loved the life you had now (minus the shitty diapers obviously) and the family you’d started to build. Hell, he loved you, something he hadn’t ever really felt before for a woman other than his mother. He thought he’d felt it once with Crimson Countess but he’d been wrong. What he thought he felt for her paled in comparison to what he actually felt for you. Not just for having his kid but also for loving him and not the suit. Yes, you’d gone to him for protection and yes, he’d done his best to take advantage of that fact, but something genuine formed between the two of you. Before long, he wasn’t just protecting you to hold up his end of the deal, he was also protecting you because he couldn’t bear to lose you. He was over a century old and he had never come across someone like you before, someone who actually saw worth in him as something more than a quick lay or a celebrity or a supe. Someone who worried for him when he left your sight or took on one of your would-be assailants. Someone who actually wanted to build a life with him — with him, not Soldier Boy.

So why the fuck had he said those things? He knew why. You had made him feel ashamed that he hadn’t gotten the job done, that he hadn’t completed the one mission you’d given him and you hadn’t even left the house yet. You’d had to come in and rescue him, do the task instead, and you hadn’t balked or even thought twice about it.

You were softly singing to Ellie and he could hear a couple of breaks in your voice, betraying how upset you really were though you were trying to hide it for your daughter’s sake.

Ben hung his head in shame when he heard you get choked up and stop for a moment, sniffling, before you started back up again. He threw on a fresh shirt and got to work cleaning the shit from the changing pad and this time, he didn’t complain.

Ben watched as you carried the baby into the room, still not looking at him. You saw that the table was clean and moved over to place your daughter on it, grabbing the clean onesie he’d set aside and began to dress her. “You’re still here?” You bit out though he could detect a hint of genuine surprise there, too.

“Still here,” he murmured, hoping you would hear how sorry he was without him having to say it.

You finished buttoning up the onesie and popped the pacifier into Ellie’s mouth that he’d left out for you. “Think you can manage to watch her while I take a ten minute shower?”

“Since when do you take ten minute showers?” He’d meant it as a teasing question, to try to lighten the mood a little, but you turned a glare onto him, beginning to unbutton the top of your dress.

“Forget it. I’ll put her in her bouncy seat and bring her in with me. You can go.” You went to pick up the baby when he held his hands out.

“I can watch her. Go take your shower.”

He could see the clear distrust in your eyes but you handed him your daughter nonetheless but not before you kissed her head. “Mommy will be right back, Ellie,” you whispered, stroking her back. You glanced up at him, unsure, but then turned to make your way to the bathroom, continuing to undo the fastenings on your dress. He let out a huge sigh when he heard the door snick closed and the shower start up.

“Daddy’s in big trouble, Princess,” he murmured to Ellie. She gazed up at him, going to town on her pacifier, her brows drawing together slightly from the effort. He smiled and dropped a kiss down on her little forehead. “That’s one thing you have in common with your old man. We love the nipples.” He chuckled under his breath, imagining just how hard you would roll your eyes and swat at his shoulder if you heard that. But instead, he heard a much more heartbreaking sound from you. You were crying…in the shower. Fuck.

At that moment, he heard a car slowing down and pulling into the driveway. One glance out the window confirmed it was Elena. In the midst of all this, he’d forgotten you had plans for the day. Just then, he got an idea and hurried towards the front door. He had just reached it by the time Elena was about to push the doorbell. He whipped it open, making her jump in surprise. After she saw it was Ben with the baby in tow, she recovered quickly. “Oh, hey Ben. Is Y/N ready yet? Hi, Ellie.” She gave a tiny wave to your daughter, smiling.

“Uh, not yet. She’s in the shower. Hey, can you watch Ellie for a few? I’ve got something I need to do and I can’t take her with me.”

Elena seemed uncertain for a moment, studying him as if she were wondering what he was about to do, but then relented with a shrug. “Sure.” He opened the door wider for her to come in and once she had put her coat and purse on a chair, he handed Ellie over to her.

“Thanks. Be right back, Princess.” He stroked the back of the baby’s head with his fingers before hurrying out of the room, intent on doing whatever he had to in order to make things right.

Ben quietly slipped into the bathroom, undressed, and snuck into the shower behind you. You had stopped crying after the doorbell sounded so you most likely knew Elena was here and waiting. You were rubbing suds-covered hands all over the front of your body.

While you cleaned your front, Ben’s eyes roamed over your back. He was already predictably hard, just seeing you naked. You had the perfect ass and even though you still had some baby weight that you were trying to lose, in his eyes, you were fucking gorgeous. You had mournfully admitted a couple of weeks ago that your stomach was soft and you were embarrassed by the visible stretch marks and your wider hips, not to mention the few pounds sticking around. Your breasts were bigger (something he didn’t see as a problem), the areolas darker than ever before, and you were feeling a bit insecure about your new shape. He loved the new you, which he made sure to tell you over and over as he fucked you that night. You were the mother of his kid, you’d given birth to her, nourished her from your body, and you could give him even more. It endlessly fascinated him that his seed had taken root in you and a healthy child grew from it, one that was half you and half him. He’d literally fucked a baby into you and every time he saw you like this, he wanted to do it again (though you’d told him your body needed at least a year or two to recuperate before you could even entertain the idea of another pregnancy). You looked so fucking gorgeous carrying his kid and now, you were even more beautiful if that was possible. It was pure beauty that he saw when you breastfed his daughter, when you smiled down at her, talked to her, and rocked her to sleep. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t want you, on your back (or your hands and knees, he wasn’t picky), taking load after load from him until he knocked you up once more.

So he had been dumbfounded and almost incredulous when you nervously admitted all of this to him, implying that maybe he didn’t find you attractive anymore and maybe he’d prefer a flat-stomached, tighter, younger, free-to-bang-all-day woman instead. That or some old lady. He’d fucked that notion right out of your head.

But now as he stepped toward you, not only was he incredibly turned on by you and how beautiful he still thought you were, but he also realized right then, just like he had many times before this moment, you were the only one he wanted. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your wet shoulder.

You let out a small gasp in surprise. “Where’s Ellie?”

“Elena’s got her.”

“Well, I’m not doing anything with you in this shower so you might as well get out,” you snapped and attempted to wriggle out of his embrace. When you couldn’t, you huffed out an aggravated breath and went back to rubbing soap over your skin.

He nosed your wet hair out of the way to get closer to your ear. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never should’ve said that shit.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” you muttered, gliding soap down your arms.

“I love you,” he murmured to the skin of your neck before dropping a kiss. “I love my little princess.” Another kiss. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Really? Because it sounds like you want to be somewhere else.”

“No, I don’t,” he assured. “I told you when I knocked you up. You two are it for me.”

You slowed down your movements and he took the opportunity to hug you a little tighter, burying his nose underneath your jaw. “I mean it, doll. This is right where I want to be.” He slowly ground his erection into the small of your back to also illustrate his point. He meant every fucking word; with you, around you, in you — there was no other place he’d rather be.

You attempted to turn around in his arms and he loosened his grip so you could. He nearly let out a soft groan at the feel of your soap-slicked skin sliding against his dick. You stared up into his eyes and the smirk that formed on his face was beyond dirty, thinking you two were about to get to the fun part, your argument a thing of the past when you cupped his bearded cheeks in your suds-covered hands.

“Ben,” you whispered. “I need to know that if something happens to me…that you’ve got this with Ellie.”

Ben’s grin morphed into a frown and his brows furrowed. “What the fuck are you talking about? What do you mean if something happens to you?”

Your eyes began to glisten and his heart dropped inside his chest. What the fuck hadn’t you told him?

“Did some cocksucker threaten you?” He growled menacingly, the rage he worked so hard to tamp down for yours and Ellie’s sakes was attempting to breach the surface at the thought of someone even thinking about hurting you. Mallory had said you’d be safe here; had the old bitch lied?

You shook your head and that only helped to quell the fire burning deep within slightly. A light appeared on your face and you glanced down as it got brighter, eyes wide in fear. “Your chest is glowing. Ben, stop! You need to calm down.”

He took deep breaths as he’d learned to do, telling himself that you were here in his arms, right now, and you were safe. You were not in any danger. Hearing the sounds of his daughter a few rooms away helped him to get this fucking thing inside of him under control. He hated it, hated what the Reds had done to him, but it was now forever a part of him. He would do whatever it took to keep you both safe, even from this goddamn weapon inside his chest.

When you met his eyes again, there was no more light, no more glow lighting up your face from below. You lifted yourself up on your toes and brushed your lips against his. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Ben nodded and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you up against him. He nuzzled you, feeling much calmer than he had a few moments before, but he still saw the same worry in your gaze that he’d seen before his inner nuke started to fire up. “Talk to me,” he implored.

You pressed your lips together and briefly looked away and he knew you didn’t really want to say what you were about to. It made him incredibly nervous. While you two had argued before and you’d told him to go when he was being an ass…what if what you meant was that you wanted out of this? Fear immediately took hold of him — fear of losing you, fear of losing Ellie, and all because he’d been a stupid fuck who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. You both were the two best things that had ever happened to him since being injected with Compound V. He didn’t want to go back to before. He only wanted now and the two of you. Hell, he wanted to keep creating a family with you, the family he’d always desired but never had. What had seemed within his grasp just hours ago now seemed to be getting further and further away.

That thought had him speaking — no, downright begging. Soldier Boy begging…only for you. “Look, I know I’ve been a dick and I said some really fucked up shit earlier but I didn’t—”

You gently placed your fingers against his lips, effectively stopping him. You stared up at him sadly and that fear kicked into high gear. Fuck, he was losing you. And all because he hadn’t been able to keep his goddamn mouth shut or change one fucking dirty diaper. He’d fucking failed and now he was going to lose you and that dream he wanted to realize with you all in one swoop. All because he really was America’s Asshole.

But when you finally spoke, you said the last thing he expected. “I spent months running from Vought’s death squads before I found you. Even with you protecting me, even after I got pregnant, I was still in danger because they wanted me dead.” Your voice broke on the last word, betraying the tears that were imminent, along with the shimmering in your eyes getting worse.

His brows drew together in concern but he gently grasped your chin, making sure that you not only continued looking at him but that you heard every word he was about to say. “But you’re safe now,” he murmured. “Vought’s gone, Edgar and Homelander are dead…I would never let anything happen to you.”

Tears began to roll down your cheeks. “I know, but I keep thinking what if something goes wrong? What if one of the supes out there finds us? What if they get wind that I’m still alive? What if the surviving board members decide that I’m still a liability?”

He shook his head, moving his thumb up to stroke your cheek reassuringly. “No one survived. I made sure of it.” He placed his forehead down onto yours. “I promised I’d keep you safe, you both safe, and I did.” Ben tenderly rubbed his nose along yours. “Still do.”

He was slightly relieved that you weren’t thinking of leaving him but also unhappy that you had still been worrying about this all of this time and he hadn’t had a clue. He was going to do whatever it took to reassure you, to remind you that you were safe and that you no longer needed to worry about any of those pricks that you’d had to run from before. He still remembered the nightmares you’d had, the jumps and startles in the middle of the night at the slightest sound. Eventually, it prompted him to hold you when you went to bed, promising to keep you safe so you could get some sleep while he kept watch. You would finally relax in his arms and close your eyes, content to listen to his strong heartbeat underneath your ear, knowing you were indeed protected.

Sure, you’d kept your end of the deal and let him fuck you once you’d gotten some rest from running nonstop, but instead of getting bored like he usually did after hitting the same pussy a couple of different times, he’d actually started to like you. So he’d kept you close while he turned the hunt around to make Onehander, Edgar, and all of those assholes the prey instead. When he found out you were carrying his kid, he decided he’d do whatever it took to make you both safe and even ended up teaming up with the Brit and his team again, though he still didn’t trust them. Hell, he’d even made a deal with them to settle in this area and get you this house when you’d told him you wanted a home for your child to grow safely up in, to put down roots. He’d put up with your nearby neighbors, with having to see the One-Eyed-WonderBitch again, and shifting from the Supe life to suburban life (which was not an easy transition for him by any means). He did it all for you…for you and Ellie and the family you had chosen to have with him.

So to see now that after everything, you still didn’t feel completely safe, well…that bothered him. What kind of man had he been for you to keep feeling scared that Vought might come back at any moment to haunt you? He’d never given you details of the day that he’d annihilated them all for you because he knew you didn’t want them, but maybe he should have. If he had, maybe that would’ve helped to allay your fears of any possible reprisals.

“I know you do,” you broke into his thoughts. “But…what if something else happens? What if I get sick or get hit by a car or I have an accident and fall or I have a medical emergency that could be fatal or—”

“Hey,” he interrupted your rambling. “You’re spiraling.” Something you’d done quite a bit when you first met. His heart sunk at the thought; this had gotten to that point and he hadn’t had one goddamn clue. He’d been so wrapped up in you and Ellie and the life you were building that he hadn’t even seen it. Maybe his father had been right; he was a fuck up. An assertion by the old man that you’d unknowingly been dismantling every single day with how much you loved and believed in Ben, but now…now he felt as if he didn’t deserve you. He watched more tears spill down your cheeks and he knew he definitely didn’t; here was the proof.

“I know,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry. I just…” You took in a ragged breath and looked into his eyes, your bottom lip starting to wobble. “I need to know that if something happens to me, that you’ll take care of Ellie the way she needs to be taken care of. If I’m gone, she’s going to need you and I need to know that she’ll be okay.”

He tried his best not to be insulted, not to show it for your sake so he wouldn’t upset you anymore than you already were, but it stung his ego a bit. “Of course, she would be okay. I’ve kept her safe this long, haven’t I?”

“I’m not just talking about safety, Ben. I’m talking about you actually taking care of her. Not just providing for her, but actually being there for her whenever she needs you. Like the diaper change I asked you to do today. Is it disgusting? Sure. No one likes dealing with it, smelling shit, getting it all over you…but she’s your daughter and she needed you to take care of it for her. What if I had gone for breakfast with Elena instead? Would she have sat in her own crap until I came back home because you feel as a man that it’s beneath you to change your own daughter’s diaper?” More tears appeared. “What if something had happened to me while I was out? Would you just push Ellie onto Elena and Maggie to take care of her so you could go back to your old life? All so you wouldn’t have to do any of the messy or hard stuff? Would you abandon her just like that?”

“Of course not,” he snapped, his consideration for you now forgotten in the face of what you’d said. “How the fuck could you even think I would do something like that? Haven’t I been here through everything like I fucking said I would be?”

“Yes, but I’ve been doing everything!” The words burst out of you. “At first, you didn’t want to feed her, burp her, bathe her — any of it! And I did it all! Why? Because that was supposed to be the woman’s job you’d said!”

Ben could feel his temper flaring at you bringing that up. You were also intimating that he didn’t do anything for your daughter. Were you blind to all of the effort he had put in to help you raise Ellie since that fight you’d had a couple of weeks after she’d been born? Didn’t you realize that most mornings you woke up well rested was because he’d gotten up with the baby in the middle of the night so you wouldn’t have to? And you were still holding that shit over his head? What the fuck was wrong with you? “That was the way it was back then,” he growled out. “I told you that! And I’ve been doing all of that shit you just mentioned since then! So I didn’t change one shitty diaper today! I said I was sorry! When are you going to fucking let it go?”

Instead of responding, you exploded into more sobs and shame churned in his gut. He really fucking hated seeing either of his girls cry. It made him want to beat the ever loving shit out of some son of a bitch. Even if he happened to be said son of a bitch sometimes.

“Christ,” he muttered. “C’mere.” He pulled you to him and you held onto him tightly, crying into his neck. His hand slid down your back in a tender caress and he pressed his lips to your hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to you.

He kept you in his arms, hoisted you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist, and let you get it all out. He even shut the water off, knowing the temperature had vastly cooled in the amount of time he’d been in there with you so far. He vaguely recalled his plan from earlier to join you, apologize for what he’d said during your argument, and begin making up with you. That obviously had gone to shit; there would be no making up happening now, that was for sure. And if anything would get his dick to go soft with you naked against him, it was the sound of you crying.

Once your sobs quieted down and turned into ragged inhales and a few sniffles here and there, he moved your hair out of the way so he could see you. “Better?”

You nodded, sniffling as you looked up at him. “Yeah.”

“Okay, let’s get you out of this tub then and get you dried off.” He placed a kiss on your forehead and went to open the shower curtain.

“Ben?”

He froze and turned to look at you.

You lifted your head, letting out another sniffle. “I’m sorry, too.” Before he could say anything, you continued. “I know you’ve been trying and you’ve been doing everything I asked you to with Ellie. I just…I freaked out about the diaper thing.” You wiped at your face. “Because it just brought back that worry, that fear I have of what would happen to her if I wasn’t here.” Your voice wobbled slightly but you forged ahead anyway. “You know, I wasn’t scared like this when I was being hunted down. I mean, I was, but not like this. Back then, I only had myself to worry about. And then when I got pregnant, sure, I was a little more scared but I also knew you’d keep us safe.” You took another ragged breath in. “But ever since she’s been born, I have been absolutely terrified. That something might happen to her, to me…to her if something does happen to me. I’m so fucking scared, Ben.” Your voice broke then, prompting fresh tears to roll down your cheeks.

Ben had been insulted before, almost as if you hadn’t believed in him or his ability to keep either of you safe, but now as he listened to your heartfelt explanation, he realized it wasn’t really about any of that. It didn’t really have anything to do with him, except that you wanted him to be ready to care for your daughter if something ever happened to you. That unpleasant tug inside his gut happened once more when you finally confessed just how scared you were. He thought back over the last few months since Ellie had been born. Your push for him to be more involved; your fighting with him over his antiquated mindset as you’d called it over his ideas of what fatherhood entailed; your rushing him during your sexual escapades the few times he’d managed to get you away from the house while Elena watched the baby no matter how much it pissed him off that he couldn’t take his time with you like he wanted; your insistence that he watch Ellie while you go to lunch with your friend; your anger today at his refusal to deal with the shitty diaper situation — all of it suddenly clicked into place for him and made sense. Fuck, he didn’t think it was possible for him to feel any worse. He had completely failed you on all fronts. He had been the blind one; he’d never seen what was going on with you when it was right in front of him this whole time. Christ on a cross.

He gripped your chin gently. “Look at me.” You reluctantly met his gaze, yours glistening with fresh tears, and he could see the fear there plain as day. Fuck, how had he missed it all of this time? But instead of focusing on that, he sought to reassure you. “You and Ellie are safe. Nothing is going to happen. I would never let anyone hurt you. Either of you. I love you both too fucking much.” He grazed the pad of his thumb over your cheek to catch a stray tear that had escaped at his words. “And if it’s something that’s going to make you feel better, then let’s sit down and make a plan in case anything were to happen to you. Or even if I bit it. I want both of my girls to be taken care of, even if I can’t be here to do it myself.” You gave him a tearful smile. “So, let’s do that and kick this fear in its fucking ass. Sound good, doll?”

You nodded and leaned in, kissing him and making him smile. He’d been able to make you feel better after all and he felt damn proud of himself for being able to do so. “I love you,” you whispered.

He fucking loved hearing those three words from you every single time you said them; he knew you fucking meant it. And so did he. “I love you, too, baby.” When you beamed at him, another tugging sensation happened in his chest but this time, it was a far more pleasant one. He pecked your lips and opened the curtain. “Alright, let’s get you out of here.”

Before he could take a step out of the tub, you reached up and yanked the curtain closed, making his brows furrow. Your smile suddenly transformed into a devilish smirk. Immediately, he could feel his dick hardening again. He knew what that smirk meant. “We didn’t make up yet,” you murmured, starting to rub your body against his. “And we always make up after we fight.”

Ben felt the stiff peaks of your nipples gliding across his skin and his mouth practically watered at the thought of sucking on them while he rammed into you repeatedly. Fuck, he loved your tits. There had been a time after Ellie was born where you’d pushed his head away anytime he tried to get his mouth on them while he was fucking you, complaining that they were too sensitive due to all of the feedings. But recently, he’d been able to start that up again without causing you discomfort and once, he had even gotten a tiny amount of milk squirted into his mouth by accident. It had been surprising for him, embarrassing for you, but it had turned out to be a major turn on. He found he didn’t mind the taste and the idea of him drinking you down, you shooting something into his mouth for once and him needing to be the one to swallow, that made him hornier than he’d ever been in his life. He’d fucked a lot of women in his time, sometimes high, sometimes sober; he’d done things that made most people blush to hear about or uncomfortable to imagine, some things which you flat out refused to do. He’d founded Herogasm and had marathon fucks that were legendary. He’d hosted orgies where he would be the only one left standing, having never tired out and still raring to go when everyone else was down for the count. And yet, when you’d unintentionally squirted the smallest bit of milk into his mouth, his dick had gotten so hard, he was shocked it hadn’t exploded right there. Well…it did, but not the way he’d originally been thinking. He’d greedily swallowed you down and kept sucking, even through the first load of cum he’d shot into you in reaction to that fucking hot as hell moment. From that point on, while he knew your breastmilk was Ellie’s main food source and he loved that, his daughter had to learn to fucking share.

That was another reason why he had such a love/hate relationship with the breast pump machine you had. When he would watch the milk fill the bottle, he didn’t know whether to cry, jerk off, fuck you, or just watch. Sometimes he even wished you’d get rid of the contraption and just let him help you; it could be a rewarding experience for you both while you made sure Ellie had plenty to eat.

Your smirk grew, almost as if you knew where his thoughts had gone, and you ghosted your lips over his. “Ben,” you called to him in a teasing singsong voice. “I said, we always make up after fighting.”

He could feel something wet moving against his abdomen as you attempted to roll your hips, knowing it had nothing to do with your recent shower, and he ground out, “Yeah, we fucking do” before he slammed his mouth against yours in a bruising kiss that was all tongue and teeth. He turned around and carefully pushed you up against the tiled wall, making sure not to break it or you. It wasn’t long before he was inside you, his hips pushing into you at a steady pace, his mouth suckling at you and your fingers in his hair, tugging roughly, as you muffled your moans with your other hand. Neither of you had forgotten that Elena was within earshot; Ben just didn’t give a fuck. He snatched your hand away from your mouth, gruffed out a command of “Let me fucking hear you”, and he didn’t give two shits who heard the fucking hot soundtrack of your making up. Instead, as you cried out your pleasure for the world to hear, he went back to your incredible rack, focusing on filling up on you while he worked towards filling you up. The thought of any fear or resentment from your earlier argument was long gone as you both chased your highs at lightning speed. The only words said between you were dirty or full of love. And even when you both had been forced to take a mostly cold shower afterwards to clean up once you both had caught your breath, only smiles, tender touches, and kisses had been exchanged along with a few laughs, both of you completely sated. Well, you were; Ben would never get enough of you and he planned to try to fuck you again later after the baby had fallen asleep.

But as for right now, seeing the bright smile on your face as he carefully wrapped a towel around you, the weight visibly lighter on your shoulders since you confessed your fears to him, he was determined to do whatever it took to not only make you feel safe but also to keep you feeling this way and being this happy.

When you’d laughed at something he’d said, darted forward to kiss him, and wrapped your arms around his neck, his embrace tightened around you and he kissed the juncture in between your neck and shoulder, making you that silent promise. Whatever it took to make you feel safe again, he’d do it.

Elena glanced up to see you and Ben stepping into the living room, both dressed and looking refreshed. You had been missing in action for at least an hour and forty-five minutes. Elena already had an idea what you two had been doing considering everything she’d heard. Maggie had even heard when she called to check in and see when Elena would be returning home, beyond disgusted at the sounds Soldier Boy was making as he railed you in the shower. She’d told Elena to call her when she was done babysitting so the archaic asshole could get laid and promptly hung up. But even if Elena hadn’t heard what you’d been up to, she would have immediately known after seeing you both. Ben’s hair was still damp and yours was freshly blown out. Both of you were touching, unable to keep your hands off of each other and sporting matching grins, looking like practical newlyweds. Ben’s hand moved to the small of your back and both of you suddenly smiled wide upon seeing your daughter.

“Thank you for watching her and for waiting.” Your cheeks turned a shade of pink but you held out your arms. Elena was only too happy to hand you your baby back. “There she is,” you cooed, pressing a loud kiss to Ellie’s cheek. “Were you a good girl for your Aunt Elena?”

“She was a very good girl,” Elena confirmed, watching as Ben strode over and stopped next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him, his eyes centered on both of his girls with an affectionate smile to match. Sometimes Maggie still had trouble believing it, that Soldier Boy had been domesticated as she put it, but Elena never doubted how important you and Ellie were to him. She could see it every time he looked at you, at your little girl, and she actually thought it was beyond sweet. She had even said as much to which Maggie had rolled her eyes, muttered “Whatever, I’m going to vomit”, and walked away from the door while Elena waited to greet the three of you after she had extended a dinner invitation to your family one night. As expected Ben and Maggie didn’t get along too well, especially given their history, but the former seemed to be okay with Elena and she was okay with him because she knew how much he meant to you. And Maggie didn’t seem to mind you all that much, either. So you all somehow made the nearby neighbor thing work; for yours, Elena’s, and Ellie’s sakes if for nothing else.

“She did get a little fussy, though, so I fed her one of the bottles you had in the fridge.”

You nodded and pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead, briefly glancing at the clock on the mantle. “It’s about that time. Thank you so much for doing that. I’m sorry that we missed lunch.” You blushed once more when Ben let out a quiet chuckle.

“No problem,” Elena dismissed with a smile and a wave of her hand. “I’m glad everything seems to be okay. Ben looked a little worried when I got here.”

You glanced up at him, your brows arching in surprise. Ben shrugged, seeming unbothered at this observation.

“We can maybe shoot for next week if you’re game,” Elena offered.

You went to answer when Ben cut you off. “Actually, why don’t you guys still go and grab a late lunch or something? Elena’s already here and you both are dressed to the nines.”

Your eyes widened when you looked over at your husband, worry lining your expression for a moment. “No, that’s—it’s too late. By the time we’d get home, it would probably be dinner time.” You let out a nervous sounding laugh. “Besides, Ellie’s going to need to feed before then and I—”

“You pumped earlier, right? I can feed her.”

You seemed unsure, biting your lip. “I did, but I’m not sure—”

Ben released you and held out his hands, smiling reassuringly at you. “It’s settled. You go. Ellie and I have got this. Don’t we, Princess?” The baby had her fingers in her mouth, drooling everywhere. Elena saw Ben shake his head, seeming amused.

You glanced down at your daughter, the happiness from before replaced by uncertainty. Elena knew you struggled to leave Ellie the first few times she’d babysat for you both to have some time to yourselves. It wasn’t surprising; you were a new mother after all. But this time, you seemed even more reluctant than usual.

“Hey,” Ben softly called to you, prompting you to meet his gaze. “Remember what we talked about. We’re going to be fine. I’ve got her.”

It was moments like this that convinced Elena of your importance to him. If Maggie ever witnessed them, she was sure her girlfriend would reluctantly agree. Never had Elena ever heard him speak that gently to anyone, even his own daughter. Not when she and Maggie were in earshot anyway.

Ben gave you a meaningful look and after glancing down at Ellie one more time, you eventually handed your daughter over to her father. “There’s my girl.” He leaned down to kiss the baby’s forehead.

You watched, anxiety still apparent in your expression.“Ben, are you su—”

He immediately darted forward to kiss you, cutting you off. Elena had the grace to look away and give you two a moment.

“We’ll be fine,” she heard Ben murmur to you. “I’ve got this. I promise, baby. Go have your girl time and then come home. We’ll be here when you get back.”

“You’re absolutely sure?” You checked one last time.

“Of course I fucking am.”

“Language,” you chided.

Elena glanced over and found Ben smirking down at you, leaning closer. “You didn’t seem to mind my language earlier.” As expected, your cheeks reddened and he barked out a laugh, kissing one of them. “Alright, go have fun and we’ll see you later.” Then he leaned in to whisper something to you that couldn’t be heard and your jaw dropped, gently swatting at his hip since he was holding Ellie in both arms. He laughed and moved away, his gaze a little darker than before as it stayed fixed on you.

You kissed Ellie’s head and stroked her cheek, smiling. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart. Be good for your daddy, okay? I love you.” Ellie gurgled and you smiled wider, leaning up to kiss Ben goodbye who immediately deepened it.

Elena was on the verge of looking away again when you pulled back, panting, and glared up at the smirking man in front of you. “You know, for someone who’s trying to get me to leave, you’re doing a miserable job.”

“Just giving you a little preview for later.” The stare between you two was so intense that it felt as if any unfortunate bystanders would suddenly burst into flames just from being too close. This time, Elena was the one nearly blushing. She would have never believed you two had just been having sex if she hadn’t heard it for herself. You both looked hungry and not for any late lunch.

You leaned in, as if to kiss him again, when you reached up and planted a kiss on his brow instead, smirking as you backed away. “Until then, Benjamin,” you snarked, turning to leave. “Love you.” You let out a yelp a moment later when Ben swatted your ass with a free hand as you passed.

You shot another glare at him and he simply smirked. “Love you, too, doll.”

Elena gently pulled you towards the door, thinking if she didn’t get you out of the house soon, you definitely weren’t going to leave at all. Or more like Soldier Boy wasn’t going to let you leave. Not with the way his eyes were unashamedly glued to your ass.

You waved one last time in your family’s direction. “Bye, Ellie. See you soon, babygirl.”

Ben picked up Ellie’s little hand and simulated a wave, making you smile.

Once Elena had you in the car and backed out of your driveway, she could see the earlier uncertainty returning. “So, what’s going on? First, Ben looked worried and now you. Something I should know about?”

You bit your lip and seemed to be mulling over whether to tell her or not. Elena gave you a moment to yourself to decide. Eventually you turned to look at her and sighed. “Okay.” You then proceeded to fill Elena in on everything you’d been feeling since your daughter had been born, everything you’d just told Ben.

Ben watched as you and Elena got into the car and left. He knew you would be worried but he was determined not to give you any reason to be. He meant it when he told you he had this. He wanted you to know that he could look after Ellie the way she needed looking after, which is why he insisted that you still go out to eat with Elena. He was going to make damn sure he passed this test and he was keeping his promise to you, that he would make you feel safe again. And if that meant he had to play Mr. Mom and change a few shitty diapers while you were gone, then so be it.

Once the car disappeared, he let out a sigh and turned to look down at his daughter. She was staring up at him with those beautiful eyes that reminded him so often of his mother’s, though absent of any of the heartbreak she had endured in her life with his father. That was why when you asked about possible names for your daughter after you’d given birth, he’d mentioned Eleanor to bestow upon her. You’d loved it, especially after Ben had explained the significance of the name to you, and so your daughter was named after her grandmother, though you both had ended up calling her Ellie for short most of the time.

He gave his little girl a smile. “We’ve got the place to ourselves, kiddo. We can do whatever we want. What does my princess want to do, hmm?”

Ellie gurgled and he nodded as if he understood.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Let your old man show you his movies so you can see when he was a star. Good thinking, babygirl.” He chuckled when she gurgled again and turned to head into the living room.

Just then, he heard the sounds he had been hoping like hell that he wouldn’t hear until you were back. Ellie began to grunt, a few short farts sounded, and an almost undetectable thud was heard as shit landed in her diaper. Sure enough, a moment later, the smell wafted up and smacked him in the face. The smell was beyond terrible, something you had told him previously couldn’t be the case since it was known that the poop of breastfed babies didn’t smell as bad as other poop. He’d looked at you then with disbelief; how the hell did you not smell it when you were wiping the kid’s ass? Then again, thanks to his super-powered nose, you wouldn’t detect what he would. Like right now. It was fucking awful, like sour milk mixed with shit. Christ.

“Ugh.” He extended his arms and held Ellie out, away from him. He should’ve known this would fucking happen. It was just his luck. “You know, kid, for such a small thing, you sure shit a lot.” Ellie continued to make happy noises as if she hadn’t just taken a massive shit that was rapidly stinking up the room. Ben pulled her closer, his face screwed up in disgust as the smell got closer, too. “You are way too happy for someone who just shit their pants for the second time today.”

He glanced around, almost as if you would somehow come flying around the corner to help, or Queen Lesbo might show up out of the blue or something. Nope, this was all on him. He remembered your words from earlier, how he needed to know how to care for Ellie which included shitty diaper changes, and he let out a huge defeated sigh. “Fuck.”

Ben cradled Ellie in the crook of his arm, relieved there were no damp spots on her back this time, and turned to make his way to her nursery. “You know something, kid, if the day should ever come that I’m in diapers, you better fucking change ‘em without any complaints. I don’t want to hear a damn word out of you then, got it?”

Ellie made more happy noises and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” A small smile slipped onto his face and he lifted her up to his shoulder, kissing her cheek. “You’re lucky Daddy loves you, Princess.”

Almost as if she’d understood his words, she gave him a wide toothless smile, drooling onto his shirt. Instead of being disgusted, he chuckled and continued his trek. She’d unknowingly just given him a perfect excuse to change when you got home and entice you to get another shower in later. Thinking along that same line, feeling proud that this was now something he could do for you and for his daughter, something that would help you to feel better overall…well, he found now that he didn’t mind the idea of any shitty diaper changes all that much.

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 😊

dividers by @firefly-graphics

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys fanfiction #the boys fandom #prompt response

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neet-elite · 3 days

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↳ EVENT 16. Alex SDV (Dry Humping)

Pairing: Alex / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,388 Warnings: dry humping, established relationship, ab riding, public Prompt(s): 09 — dry humping Event Masterlist: CLICK HERE!!

A/N: alex my beloved </3 i feel like he's not written enough, including by me. he's just so precious though ughh i wanna dote on him forever n ever, so ty for giving me this opportunity !! i hope you enjoy <3

One of the best benefits that comes from living on the farm with you is the extra room he gets all to himself, separated from the rest of the place, secluded behind the admittedly large house in privacy. Sure, he had his own room back at his grandparents house too; but it was nothing like this! His favourite part is the little retreat you had made solely for him, an outdoor gym fashioned specifically for his own needs. It's great, even. Fucking fantastic to be able to walk outside early in the summer morning, the sun already beating down on him harsh enough to cause his shirt to suddenly go missing, sweaty back sticking to the bench under him as he lifts heavy weights above his head. This, is love.

It's perfect, in all honesty. And he couldn't ask for more, not when you've provided him such adequate space to get in all of his workouts, morning, noon, and night.

Except, as his workout continues and you still yet remain on his lap, squirming around in the heat, he has the audacity to ask for something else.

"Can you, uh... Can you get off, please?"

It's not that he's uncomfortable with you sitting there, the additional weight from your body on top of him provides an interesting challenge to his usually straight forward and routine work outs. It's just... Well, fuck, he's getting hard under you, isn't he? Sweat trickling down his toned body, muscles tight and engaged as he does his best to focus on not fucking dying by dropping the weights on his chest, and yet all he can seem to concentrate on is how his dick twitches so nicely against your clothed cunt, tenting in his pants if not for your ass sitting squarely on top, inadvertently grinding on him with his lifting movements. All he can think about is; already? You've just woke up, haven't you? And you need him already? So fucking hot to him, God.

And is request isn't so much of a complaint as it is just trying to stay safe, y'know? Wouldn't wanna accidentally hurt you if he were to drop anything. Confident that he wouldn't, but he cares too much about your safety to put you in harms way like this, despite the fact that it's your fault he's so hard right now. The summer sun surely basking you in all its warmth too, uncomfortably so, right? That's why you're wearing barely anything at all, his brows knitting together when you pout down at him so cutely that his tummy fills with butterflies. You know exactly what kinda buttons to push, don't you?

"Don't wanna." You reply simply, sharply. Stating, more like. Akin to telling him: no chance. Which is fine, really, he loves spending time with you just as much as you seem to enjoy making his life more difficult, his heart skipping a beat at the way you knowingly shuffle around on his lap, an exasperated sound escaping him in response. A moan? Probably. Though he'd be hard pressed to admit it when he's supposed to be working out. Which you can clearly see, obviously. And besides, he can't rightly fuck you in public like this, right? What if someone was to randomly show up while he's balls deep in your tight, wet, warm, little cunt. Milking himself inside of you, forcing your cute body into a tight mating press on his bench—

Fuck, he's not helping himself. Forcing his arms to push up again, letting them fall back down slow and controlled, determined to move forward with his workout in spite of your ass wiggling on his obviously rock hard cock. Cool pre tacky on his skin as your ass coaxes fat beads out, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull when you giggle sweetly down at him.

So you do know what you're doing to him. "Makin' it difficult for me, babe." He warns you, but his tone is light-hearted and full of love, ending with half laughter before he's lifting the weights again, huffing and puffing with the amount of strain and sheer focus it requires not to fuck up into your covered cunt with every bench press. But he resists, if only to make your life a little more difficult too. This, too, is love.

"I know." You beam down at him, and he's hit with a sudden realisation. He doesn't think he's ever loved anyone, or anything, as much as he does you. Especially right now, cursing you mentally over how well you know his weak spots, in love with the way your ass rides his cock so well, exactly how he likes. Despite it all, he feels lucky to have you, yknow. "Do you really want me to get off, or...?" You ask, gently digging your nails into his exposed chest, a pleasant pain that really helps convince him otherwise.

"God, no—" He ends up sighing, perish the thought. Bliss filling his lungs when you drag your nails down, leaving a pretty red streak over his abdomen, ending at his waist which you hold on to for stability. It's cute, actually, how heavily you rely on him for everything. For comfort, for stability, for getting off so early in the morning when you know damn well you have free reign to toys and pillows galore in the chilled farm house. And yet still, you decide to torture him with your pretty ass sat right atop his fat, throbbing cock. He can't say he blames you. If he had to choose between his hand or your cunt— it's not even a question. Your tight little hole wins every single time; but that's the thing—

You're not even properly riding him right now. Content enough to simply feel his outline pressed against your slit, biting down on your bottom lip so seductively that he can't help but gasp in response from how downright brazen you're being.

"Your training is paying off..." You eye him up and down suspiciously, but he knows what the underlying meaning of that look is actually trying to convey. He's given you the same one time and time again; you're fucking him with your eyes right now, aren't you? Pride swelling in his chest as you continue, blood rushing to his cock to throb against your cunt when you hum contentedly, as if just looking at his sweat soaked body gives you satisfaction. His tone is cocky when he offers you a lopsided grin.

"Yeah? Like what y'see?" He questions rhetorically, doing another rep just to show off his bulging muscles to your feasting eyes, smiling up at you when you nod your head so innocently despite straddling his covered cock. "I'd love t'show ya more later, babe. I'm almost done. Promise." He pants, placing the heavy bar back in it's home for a moments breather, though his hands still remain on the bar itself. Knuckles white from how tightly he holds it, an attempt to remain calm and collected in the face of your unbridled want for him.

But it's so hot seeing you like this, watching as you carefully crawl forward so that you're more sitting on his tensed tummy; which isn't a problem for him. He takes great pride in being strong enough for you, working tirelessly day in and day out to show you how fit and dependable he is for you. So as you take the opportunity to exploit his brief break by way of rocking your hips against his tummy slowly—really, barely noticeable! If not for how hard he stares at you with pure adoration—he feels a boost of confidence, his hands on the bar slipping a little not just from sweat, but from subtle need. Chest tight as you plant both hands there to keep yourself steady while you ride his abs, the sight of your bitten bruised smirk causing his cock to twitch some more, only he has the freedom of movement now that you're off his lap.

It takes him a moment to catch his breath, too in love with the sight of you literally humping his abs to know what to say, mind a little numb as he dumbly asks; "Havin' fun?" because of course he knows you are, he can see the wide smile you adorn, can feel the way your thighs squeeze around his ribs, your feet kicking up to reach his hips. But he just feels so frozen despite the heat, doesn't wanna disturb you too much in fear of missing out on the show of a lifetime. Pretty baby just needs to get off, don't you? Wanna hump his abs till you feel better, s'at it? A deep sigh crawling up his throat as he forces his muscles to remain engaged, a hard surface for you to feel every ridge and bump— shit, you're probably leaking all over his tummy by now, right? Those little shorts you've got on are more than likely soaked through from how long you've been sitting on him, turning his tummy all sticky with your slick. God, that turns him on so much, to just watch you have your fun while he's forced to endure the sweet sexual tension below you.

"Atta girl," He encourages you with a brief wolf whistle, gasping into the feeling of your nails once again digging into him, only he's not so stupid yet as to not pick up on the different meaning behind them this time round. Feels good, doesn't it? To have him submit under you like this, let you bully him and push him around a little, interrupting his precious workout time just so you can selfishly use him to get off. It's fine, he thinks. Because he's having fun too, allowing you to take control of the situation by hooking your feet under him, giving you more precision to rub your clit up and down his washboard abs. "C'mon, you can go a little faster, can't you? Wanna see you really enjoyin' yourself." He coos, dropping one hand from its iron hold on the bar to softly prompt you into a quicker pace. Home on your waist, manhandling you up and down his abdomen enough to help settle you into a new tempo, something more similar to when he fucks you. That should do it, right? The wide, pretty smile you wear sure make it seem like it will, the beads of sweat trickling down your face making his throat feel dry as he's made to sit and watch.

But there's pleasure in that too, right? Below, he holds all the power. God knows he could easily lift you up off of his tummy, flip you over so that you're the one laying on the bench, and fuck you so hard that they'd hear you sob his name all the way from the town centre. And he knows that you know that too, which is why it's so fucking infuriatingly sexy to him that you're testing him right now. C'mon, wanna fuck me so bad, right? he can practically hear you taunt. And he does! Fuck, he does. Lust pooling under your clothed cunt, cock aching from how hard he's begging to be buried balls deep in your pretty pussy. Wants to stretch your hole so bad, force you into fitting him in just as you're forcing him to remain still right now. They're about as painful as each other, aren't they? A shaky moan slipping past his otherwise sealed lips when you gasp his name through a pout, begging with your eyes for a little more help.

And all he does is tut in return. A simple sound, lasting no more than a second. But the look you wear upon hearing it has his shorts bulging more, a cool breeze travelling through them from how fat his cock gets. If anyone were to show up right now, they'd surely be greeted to the sight of his taut balls and pulsing cock peeking out from behind barely there clothing. And it's all your fault.

"Thought you wanted this, baby? It's okay, you can do it. I believe in you" He faux pouts up at you, mocking your frustrated attitude when all you do is huff in response, bucking your hips faster still against him, really grinding your clit down and up his abs, and all he can think about is how he wishes it was his cock instead. How he'd treat you so well if only you hadn't been so impatient, and if only you hadn't tried to exude some non-existent power over him. You wanted to fuck with him so bad? Congrats, you made your bed, now lie in it.

Still, he loves you. Loves you so much that despite his want to watch you suffer, he can't help but yearn to comfort you. So, his other hand leaves the bar to hold your waist too, eagerly helping you into humping him silly with large, rough hands. Setting the tempo himself, practically fucking you without fucking you as he helps you ride up and down, his hips matching your glides a little in an effort to pretend he's actually fucking you too. So down bad for you, can't you see? That even the act of mimicking being inside of your perfect little cunt is enough for his breathing to grow laboured, his grip of your hips tightening as he feels you shake from under his unfair hold. Perks of being your husband, he muses to himself. He knows how to get to you too.

It's not long before your staining his skin with cum, gushing all over his tummy with gasps of air, a pretty smile on your lips from how he helps you ride it out. Nice and slow, grinding your slit against him until you pat for him to stop, hearts in his eyes as he watches you collect your breath enough to calm down from the early morning orgasm.

And yet still, he's hard. Uncomfortably so, if he's honest. Bouncing behind your back in an instinctive need to be tended to, his head thrown back when you shuffle down far enough to rest your ass against it once again.

"Your turn?" You ask sweetly, as if it was ever a question.

"Please, babe."

#500 event!#sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv alex smut #stardew valley alex smut

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bats-and-birds-24 · 2 days

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Chapter 2:

Talia could hear the muffled sobs from behind the door.

Her father must have informed him then.

The two sentries standing guard before Jason's room acted as though they heard nothing. The result of intense disciplinary training from the league.

She dismissed them with a mere wave of the hand. Talia barely noticed their deep bows as they left their post.

She knocked twice. No answer. She cracked open the door to see a young man on his knees, eyes red and puffy from crying.

Talia lifted Jason's face up to hers.

She found no trace of the bright young boy with a sharp tongue and sharper wit left in him. What she had before her was a young man broken by the burdens of life placed on him at too young an age.

His body no longer had the scrawny build of a malnourished child. Now, he was a tall teenager with a fighter's lean build.

There was still time for him to grow and Talia knew that in time, her sons would surpass Bruce in both height and strength.

"How could he replace me?" Jason croaked out.

The question broke her stream of thought.

"He didn't replace you habibi, he most likely had to take on another Robin after your death. You know how Gotham is." Talia soothed him, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"I know how Gotham is, that's why I'm mad that he has a new Robin. He got lucky with Dick, and he should have learned a lesson about putting kids in spandex and having them jump off roofs and fight costumed asylum escapes when I died. Now there's another stupid kid who's following Batman around and will probably get himself killed as well." He raged.

Talia's heart hurt as she hurt her son speaking ill of her beloved, but she steeled herself.

He needed to know the truth.

"Jason, are you aware that the reason Bruce made you Robin, is because you were marked?"

"What's that mean?" Jason asked, confused as he collected himself.

Talia sat on the floor beside him and began to explain, "There's a curse in Gotham where a select group of people are marked with a symbol of the bat. They are destined to become vigilantes by choice or by circumstance."

His eyes widened, he got up and began to take off his clothes and turned his back to the mirror.

"Why didn't he say anything?" His voice barely a whisper.

Talia sent a fond glance towards Jason, "He wanted you to have as normal a childhood as possible. Also, at the time, Bruce didn't have much proof aside from the matching marks. He needed to know more. You know Bruce, he never says anything, unless he has all the facts."

Jason staggered back to his bed, "I think I'm going to need a minute."

"Of course." Talia nodded.

She shut the door behind her.

The muffled sobs were now replaced with an eerie silence.

Her footsteps were the only sounds left to be heard.

Jason stared up at the ceiling, his entire worldview shattered for the third time in two months.

The first was when Bruce, his dad, failed to save him from the Joker. The second was when he realized that not even death was concrete in his life, as he clawed his way up from his own grave. The third, when he was told that he was marked, the choices he made, not really his.

The last one grated on him the most. He could live with Bruce not being as perfect as he once thought, he could live with coming back to life, but when faced with the prospect that the life you lived was already decided for you, that crossed the line.

It was as though he was a kid again, back in Crime Alley, where society already decided he was a criminal, and given the lack of opportunities, it really was the only viable path for him.

He grit his teeth. Everything he had gone through, nearly starving to death every winter in the Alley, watching his mother get high on drugs, becoming homeless after her death, to becoming Robin after a fateful encounter with Batman. It was all predetermined, his choices irrelevant.

He could live with the fact that he got blown up by the Joker thanks to his own mistakes, but if it was already meant to be, what was the point of doing anything? Was his life just to suffer for Gotham's sins?

Jason contemplated offing himself with one of the many weapons at his disposal, but then decided against it. Odds are, his mark won't let him die that easily, at the very least Talia wouldn't. He'd probably get dunked in the Lazarus pit again and lose what little sanity he had left.

In thought, he glanced out the window, at the rows of assassins training.

He wondered what his replacement was up to. Feelings of resentment aside, he felt for the kid. Bruce probably didn't tell him about the mark either, out of concern for his childhood (Jason had to roll his eyes at that, if B was so concerned about their innocence, then he wouldn't have them beating up criminals in the streets) or fear that he'd run away.

Jason tamped down a surge of jealousy, it wasn't fair that some rich kid from Bristol was living his life.

He stretched and headed out to the training grounds. If his life was already destined to be a mess of vigilantes and criminals, preparing for it was the least he could do.

#marked au #batfamily #batfam #batsiblings #tim drake #batman #jason todd #dc robin #red robin #bruce wayne #red hood #talia al ghul #league of assassins

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amourtoken · 1 day

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someone requested some iv content so here's some lil blurby stuff cause I cannot create a full length fic for the life of me lol I'm sorry bb. This isn't structured rlly it's just a collection of my random thoughts off the dome while thinking abt him so lmk if you want me to elaborate on anything.

*nsfw below the cut, MDNI*

cw: petplay, sex toys, raw sex (pls wrap that shit), mentions of choking, breeding, subspace, phone sex, mirror sex, threesomes, DP, oral

◇ he's so-

◇ when you first got together, iv was much more reserved but as the group gained some traction and more opportunities presented themselves the the boys, he can't help himself he let the fame get a *little* to his head. He's become much more outgoing in many ways and he knowssss he's fine at this point. He will use this fact against you cause he knows how easy it is to melt you from the inside out so you're a pliant little toy in his hands.

◇ he's always been so sweet to you. Constantly bringing you flowers with sweet notes or forcefully making time in his schedule so he can see his sweet girl and give her the attention she deserves. He knows it could be tough being with someone who has to keep their personal life on the low but he makes up for it 100%.

◇ he swears up and down he's not *trying* to come off this way but he's tiptoeing the line of being your sugar daddy lol. If you so much as even mention something you want in passing, it's in your hands within the next day at most. After a little, this extended from things *you* said you wanted, to things *he* wants to give you. This includes the sluttiest lingerie you've ever laid eyes on, jewelry with his name on it, and countless sex toys he pleads for you to use on camera so he can rewatch while he's out on tour.

◇ he's head over heels for you, and absolutely *cannot* get enough. Your smell, your taste, your touch, all of it. He'd inject you into his veins if possible. Even while fucking you, one angle isn't enough. iv has strategically aligned a couple mirrors so he gets all the best views of you no matter what position he's manipulated you into and ugh it makes his head spin sometimes. You deserve to be in a museum but he can't help himself but to be a lil rough with you on occasion.

◇ knows how to get into your head and all up under your skin, on multiple occasions he's slid behind you while you're getting ready in the mirror and rested his head on your shoulder just to whisper the filthiest things imaginable in your ear. He'll wrap his arms around your waist or run his hands up and down your torso, sliding down to your thighs and tugging the hem of your dress up little by little while detailing just how pretty he think you are in it in a low voice. Sometimes he'll slide one hand up and gently squeeze your throat, leaning your head back onto his shoulder while he's touching you. He makes a whole ordeal of it and most often, you end up right back in bed.

◇ he's got lots of sweet little pet names for you. Love is absolutely his favorite but sweet girl, pretty thing, sweetheart, all perfect. He's not big on degradation *however*, he did get you the prettiest engraved collar with a cute little tag reading "slut" in his handwriting.

◇ bouncing directly off that, man's into some petplay. Loves knowing you're all his and wrapped right around his finger. The physical manifestation of this is him wrapping your leash around his hand and tugging when you break eye contact while he's fucking you like he hates you (he doesn't but the way he bullies your poor insides, it sure feels like it.) He's got you a collection of pretty collars with his name on them, and adores having you sat at his feet at any given chance. He'll also literally pet you, fingers lovingly brushing your skin or running through your hair absent-mindedly but ugh it feels so fucking good, what's not to enjoy about having his hands on you? Throws you right into a comfy subspace.

◇ I think all of the ST Boys are in this boat but God if he doesn't get lightheaded at the thought of breeding you. He'll grab your hips and pull you to meet his deep thrusts while your head hangs over the edge of the bed, watching the scene from the full length mirror beside you. He gets off on the fact not only is it the *ultimate* claim on you, but thanks to his mirror fixation, he gets to watch the whole thing and know it's the exact moment he knocked you up. You're already perfect in his eyes but once you're all round and pretty, he *really* won't be able to keep his hands off of you. It'll only serve to make him more possessive as well, that's his baby carrying his actual baby, he'll be damned if anything happens to you or you're not treated like a piece of fine china.

◇ he's very possessive of you like I said, *but* if one of the other boys wanna join...he'll consider. By consider I mean he'll hold you on his lap, arms hooked under your legs and holding them open while iii eats you out like he's starved. Your head is leaned back on his shoulder and he's praising you for being so good for both of them, he'll also direct some praise to iii for treating you so well. As long as he's ultimately the one pulling the strings and directing the scene, he's in his element. Fucking you from behind while Vessel's down your throat or leaving countless dark hickeys and love bites all over your neck and chest while he and ii fill both of your holes. You're his, doesn't matter if they get a taste cause he's the one you belong to.

#iv #iv sleep token #Sleep token smut #Sleep token #Listen #I can't write for the life of me but these are just my thoughts

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midnightanxietytm · 24 hours

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The rites of spring

Summary: Amidst the spring rites, Narinder learns something about his usurper.

"What could that mean? Had the Lamb not taken a consort during the previous fertility rituals? That was very unbecoming, it should be a God’s duty to bestow such blessings upon their followers…"

Author’s Note: So, before starting, a few things just for context: Since i'm not really into anthro, the lamb and their respective followers have human forms and wear animal masks that correspond to their role in the cult; The lamb is the leader obv, cats are “keepers of the house” aka they are organizers/overseers of other tasks, crows are gatherers, moles are miners so on so forth.

Also, I’ve imagined that as The Lamb, after achieving godhood, has a face that’s perfect to an unsettling and undescribable degree and that only the ex-bishops can actually look at them unmasked for more than a few seconds.

Also also, Masks, man! I love the concept of masks that both hide and reveal identity, don’t you?

Contents/warnings: Narilamb being toxic yaoi/yuri. This author is self-indulgently using the sex update for content. Non-explicit sex (aka we fade to black because i got lazy). Some angst. Mention of spouse death. Pinning, banter and all that fun stuff

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

“I wonder if our glorious leader will give anyone the honor of spending the night with them this time…” Muttered one of the Crow-masked followers, and Narinder frowned upon hearing it.

What could that mean? Had the Lamb not taken a consort during the previous fertility rituals? That was very unbecoming, it should be a God’s duty to bestow such blessings upon their followers… Maybe Narinder should take this as an opportunity; point out their flaws, make them uncertain, shake their foundation… Yes, surely that was the intention behind him making his way to the fields, where the Lamb-masked deity stood, casually talking with their followers.

Said followers, upon seeing the former god approach, promptly bowed to their leader and left quickly. Narinder was still proud of that, even decades after losing his godhood, they still avoided him in fear, yes, surely that thug in his heart was pride… This new mortal body of his was confusing sometimes…

The Lamb sighed upon seeing their followers flee, but turned to Narinder with a soft smile; “Yes, Narinder?”

The former deity put on a cheeky grin; “I heard you won’t take a partner for tonight’s ritual…” He said, softly dragging out his words. “Your followers are feeling uneasy…” An exaggeration, but a necessary one, it doesn’t matter if the followers were still as loyal as ever, Narinder would make sure to point each and every flaw until they weren’t.

So the giggle his usurper let out in the face of that treat came as a surprise. “Really, is that your pick for today? Okay then, your complaint is registered, Nari.” They said with a soft laugh. “You are free to go for today, We’ll begin soon.” And they left, just like that…

Usually, Narinder would retire to his tent sooner for the Fertility Ritual, along with his siblings. That year though, he chose a hill a little further away from the main clearing, sat down, and chose to watch from afar.

The dances began right after the sun was down; a large bonfire was lit, drums resonated, and beyond it all, The Lamb was sat on a large, elevated wooden throne, and on the opposite side of the valley, Narinder stared at them.

The hours dragged, the activities and celebrations getting more lewd by the moment, and to Narinder’s surprise, from up the hill, he saw his brother, Leshy, leave his own tent, grab the attention of a follower with a orange cat mask, and disappear with them behind the temple. Ew.

Narinder looked back to the Usurper; now they had one leg thrown over the throne armrest, mask lifted and resting on top of their head, their ethereal features full on display, but none of the followers were paying attention, all either asleep from their exhaustion already, or engaged on lascivious displays with one another.

And they both watched, Lamb’s kaleidoscope eyes hooded, a small, satisfied smile on their face, as if their follower’s pleasure was their own… And maybe it was, Narinder couldn’t know; The Lamb had more domains than he had even at the height of his godhood, he chose not to follow that train of thought.

The night went on, then passed. The sun would be rising in about two or three hours, and by now most followers had either retreated to their shelters—most with a partner, so their fun would continue—, or fell asleep around the dying bonfire. The former god rose from his watching spot, and crossed the large clearing with slow steps. He jumped over sleeping, naked bodies, and climbed over to his new deity’s thone.

“You didn't take a lover tonight after all…” He said, and again, the deity laughed.

“So you were just curious after all?” Narinder chose not to give an answer, but The lamb didn’t desire one anyway. “This existence you doomed me to, Narinder, is a lonely one, you should know.” They mused, though there was no hint of sadness on their face, it was a mere observation.

Narinder growled either way; “I doomed you to it? Need I remind you that it was you who took it by force?!” He grabbed the back of the throne forcefully, leaning over the god laid down on the seat.

“I don’t mean godhood, Nari,” Says the lamb, laughing yet again, their eyes hooded, their soft smile never leaving. Utterly infuriating. “I mean immortality… I’ve taken a few lovers before, but they all left me, they die, whether of age or of their own volition, so why try?” The deity then reached both their arms towards him, hugging him by the shoulders, Narinder had to prop his knee on the throne as the Lamb refused to let him go.

“Mortals die, Lamb, that shouldn’t bring you pain, you are weak if it does.” He whispered tauntingly, but the usurper’s face still did not falter.

“I guess…” Hummed the Lamb; “But we both know that gods die too, even if just by the hands of another, and so what’s left for us?” Their hands slid upwards, from his shoulders, to his neck, then his face, where they took off Narinder’s mask and carefully placed it aside.

“That’s a fool’s conundrum, Lamb.” Narinder snarled. And only then, their smile fell, and they sighed heavily.

“I don’t know why I thought you’d understand,” Their hands left his body, cold, and they grabbed the black cat mask, holding it as if made of gold, staring longly at it. “even imprisoned you had Aym and Baal, before that, for better or for worse, you had your siblings…” They carefully placed the mask back on his face. “Leave, Narinder, The one Who Waits. If you must think me a fool, then so be it.”

And out of all the outlandish things Lamb said to him in those decades since his defeat, this is what took him back the most, this blatant dismissal of his opinion of them was something he wouldn't stand by. He growled again and spoke his mind; “You think you can just dismiss me like that?! Don’t forget I was a god before you, I am your predecessor!”

And his former vessel simply sighed and stood up, forcing Narinder to take a step back. “Narinder, can you honestly say you miss your godhood? Because as far as I’m aware, I’ve taken a huge burden off your shoulders, along with the chains on your wrists…” They then reached again for him, but now to pull him roughly by the back of his neck, until their faces were inches apart. “And you have eternity with me in order to learn to appreciate it.”

Then they let go and promptly turned to leave, and it was the second time in a very short timeframe where Narinder was left stunned by the damned lamb. Utterly infuriating. Narinder turned around quickly and grabbed the darned usurper by the arm. He had to say something, had to give a comeback, something, anything, to shut them up.

Yet nothing came out.

He looked at the crown, resting on the Lamb’s head, and for the first time, the sight didn’t infuriate him. “At least take a partner for the next ritual. When you’re immortal, you have to move with the time.” He said after a moment of silence. “Besides, whoever you choose will surely be grateful…”

The lamb spun on their heels with a smile, all of a sudden. “Whoever I chose would be grateful?” And Narinder knew that cheeky smile better than he’d like to admit. “What if I chose you?” Came the dreadfully anticipated honeyed words.

The former god made sure to keep his expression plain as he slid his hand down their arm and granted their hand, kissing their hand. “I would be honored, my God.” He much preferred this type of teasing, he could deal with this better than the dismissal and nonchalant attitude his little lamb would sometimes display.

The usurper hummed softly, their usual smile back to their face, they pulled their mask back over their face, and Narinder felt as if pulled into a trance, one he had allowed himself to be put under, he regretted nothing. “The night is still young, my darling.” They said, and Narinder allowed himself to be pushed into sitting on the throne himself, and happily allowed the Lamb to straddle them.

Suffice to say the haze from the ritual had not yet passed, and no one would dare prevent a god from enjoying it too. Narinder surely wouldn’t.

And by the time morning came they were already apart, Narinder in his shelter as if he never left in the first place, and Lamb diligently helping their followers through the afterglow of the ritual.

By mid-day, when they gathered for a sermon and a feast in celebration of the successful ritual, Narinder heard a rabbit-masked follower gossip that during the haze of the night, they thought the Lamb had taken a lover, and they might have been delirious, but they still commented that in his mind, their Leader had the most ethereal body, and made the most beautiful sounds in the heights of pleasure.

And Narinder agreed in silence, but that was no one’s business.

Author’s Note²: Yay my first COTL fic! I quite like it, but expect me to play around with their characterization a bit in the next ones. I especially want to give a shot to cannibalism as a metaphor for love, as one does. Hope my interpretation of them in human form with masks wasn’t a dealbreaker for yall, but i can barelly describe normal body language, much less antho body language, I’ll give it a shot too, soon.

Anyways, that’s it for today, thanks for reading and feel free to give me some kind criticism if ya want! Byee!

#midnight writes #taking requests #fanfic writing #cult of the lamb #cotl #cult of the lamb au #cotl au #narilamb #cotl narinder #cotl lamb #narinder x lamb #god of death lamb #these bitches gay #and a little toxic #good for them #toxic yaoi

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leclercsredhelmet · 23 hours

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Guilty as Sin ⚡︎ Max Verstappen

A/N: Hi! Back again with another one, this time it’s Max and guilty as sin! This is a little longer than the rest and it has a little crossover with the NFL, I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Arguing, a little smut. Joe being a jerk (no hate to Joe, he’s one of my faves but I needed a not so good boyfriend for this blurb)

Without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?

Sitting cross-legged on the outdoor couch with your computer on the table you looked out at the Miami skyline with a smile. You and your boyfriend Joe had rented an apartment for the next week, Formula One was in town and you were trying to score some last-minute tickets. F1 Experiences had sent you a promotion email, the prices looked good and there were still tickets left, the offer was tempting and you were considering splurging on it. Thankfully, your job allowed you to pay for expenses such as these. You were about to buy the tickets when you received a message on Instagram. Upon opening it, you gasped and jumped off the couch screaming for Joe.

Joe ran out onto the balcony, looking bewildered, “Joe, Joe, Joe, oh my god, oh my god!” You shouted while slapping his chest. “Baby, are you okay?” he asked, concern flashing in his eyes. Unable to talk you showed him your screen, “Baby, this is huge! You better say yes!” he said hugging your waist. Grinning you typed a reply, “We’re going to the Miami Grand Prix!” You shouted and Joe whooped.

Panic set in and you started to pace around the living room, “I have nothing good to wear to a paddock club, this is going to be the end of me!” you exclaimed, “Baby, baby, hey, look at me” Joe said grabbing your shoulders to steady you. “We’re a short walk from the Brickell City Center let’s get changed and we’ll find something for you to wear,” he said. Smiling you kissed his cheek and ran out to get your laptop and into the bedroom, hastily grabbing some clothes and heading towards the bathroom.

Joe was laughing behind you and you heard him shuffle around the room. Things between you two had been rocky lately, he hadn’t had the best season with his calf injury and the wrist injury which forced him to sit out the remainder of the season. But things between you had shifted before all this, you had done your best to push the possibility that your relationship with Joe might be close to running its course. Dating him since the LSU days hadn’t been easy all the time, but you made it work throughout college, your internship in New York during his first-ever season in the NFL with the Bengals. Your careers had tested your relationship but you pulled through, and you were up to a few weeks convinced he was the man you wanted to marry. However, lately, this was not looking as clear as it had, Joe was distant with you most days.

Quality time between you was dwindling, you weren’t going out for dinner like you used to and had stopped doing many things together but you pushed the thoughts away for this week. Just one perfect week with Joe in Miami, and everything will be back on track. Your apartment was a short walk from the Brickell City Center mall so you made haste and got there in no time. A few hours later you walked out hand in hand with Joe who carried your bags full of outfits. You had insisted on paying for your own, but he refused and paid, which was why you had decided to buy him an outfit and some sunglasses you knew he had been on the hunt for.

With the bags on the bed, you started to plan your outfits and left them in the closet, Red Bull Racing had been in contact with you and your passes for the week would arrive tomorrow. They were nice enough to give you both access to media day and would send you a media pass with your journalist credentials. You figured you’d make the most out of the opportunity and take notes to report on the race week.

Excitement poured out of you and Joe took note of it, his stomach sank when he realized he hadn’t seen you like this in a while. Dawning on him, he started to see where he might’ve been faulty as of late and made a mental note to make this week the best and hopefully get back on track with you. Unbeknownst to Joe, he hadn’t stretched far back enough to realize he had been pulling away for months. You were sitting in the back of the car that was taking you both to the circuit.

Joe was scrolling on his phone and had barely paid attention to you, for most of the car ride, your driver followed the signs for the entrances assigned to the paddock club members and soon enough he had parked. “Joe we’re here!” you exclaimed and he snapped out of his daze to smile at you, he tipped the driver and informed him that he would call two hours in advance before leaving. With a smile, you thanked the driver and took Joe’s hand. “Hey Joey, do you think it would be weird if I ask Lewis for a picture with Red Bull passes on? You asked. “Don’t think so” he replied dryly. “Is everything okay?” you asked softly. “Yeah, why?” he asked. “Nothing, you were just a little dry, never mind,” you said quickly. Putting an arm around you, you walked and followed the signs for the paddock entrance and security greeted you.

There was a lane to get to the paddock so you walked through it and the entrance looked a thousand times bigger in your eyes due to your excitement. Scanning your passes you grinned as you stepped into the paddock. Joe reached for your hand and you walked past the photographers. A smile was plastered on your face and it got wider when you stepped into the football, More photographers called out to you upon seeing you two enter. The official f1 cameras were filming your entrance and you did a little wave, while Joe smiled.

The cameras left you alone and you spotted the Red Bull hospitality, you pointed it out to Joe and walked towards it. Some members of the team’s staff were outside and they greeted you, the social media admin who had contacted you, introduced herself and welcomed you inside. “Max and Checo should come by soon, help yourself to any drinks if you want,” she said. Smiling and thanking her, you turned to Joe. “I never thought I’d see the inside of the paddock, much less meet Max,” you said. “Cool, hey some of the guys are here,” he said not acknowledging what you had said. Getting slightly angry, you steeled yourself by counting backward from five. “Okay, can it wait until after?” you asked trying to hide as much of your annoyance as possible.

Was this man serious right now?

Figures approached you and you noticed it was Max and Checo, poking Joe his attention turned to the approaching drivers. “Hey, nice to see you guys!” Checo said. Joe extended his hand and shook Checo’s you did the same but greeted him in Spanish. Max was greeting Joe and he turned to you, “You must be y/n, it’s great you finally meet you. I’ve read your articles and they’re great!” Max said politely. “The pleasure is mine trust me, it’s great to know you liked them,” you replied politely. “Please you write the most competent pieces I’ve read, they should hire you in F1 already, you’d ask non-bullshit questions in the press conferences and interviews,” he said candidly and you laughed.

“She’s trying not to fangirl so hard but she goes insane on race weekends, she’s also raving about you,” Joe said and you blushed. “He’s exaggerating, don’t pay him much attention” you added and Joe laughed. Max smiled, “Seems like we’re all fans of each other,” he said to you both. You complimented Checo’s helmet and expressed your support while Max and Joe chatted and the admins took pictures of them. When you were done talking the admins wanted pictures with the four of you and you with Max while Joe took some with Checo.

Part of going out with Joe to sporting events included this, but you didn’t mind it as a sports journalist because this was pretty much what happened to you, when you attended events for work. “Some of the fins guys are here, I’m going to meet with them for a bit,” Joe said. “Okay, just don’t leave me alone all day please” you whispered. Without replying he left and you were alone with Max since Checo had media duties to fulfill.

Max had been done with his, and he decided to chat with you while showing you the paddock. Joe still wasn’t back and it was starting to bug you, “Do you have any projects lined up?” Max asked. “NFL-related not really, but I’m covering a little bit of hockey and the formulas,” you said with a smile. “Starting with us?” Max asked with a grin, “Yeah, and F1 academy, I have been writing a separate space on my blog for it and I’m excited to see the girls race!” You enthusiastically said. “I’ll get you a pass to the garages next door,” Max offered. “Oh that would be so great, thank you,” you said gratefully. “Do you need one for Joe?” he asked. “No, he seems to be busy at the moment” you replied in a serious tone.

“Ah I see, it’s a little rocky?” he asked. “You could say that, is it that noticeable?” you asked. “Not really, it is to me because I’ve been there before,” he replied before changing the topic which you were grateful for. Max had cracked a few jokes and your cheeks were red from the sun and from laughing, as he promised he would, a pass was handed to you and you thanked him. Slipping the purple lanyard on you exited the F1 paddock and made your way to the F1 garages, making sure your journalist credentials were visible.

The reigning world champion couldn't help but look at your retreating figure, desperately he’d wanted to ask for your number but the more rational side of him was holding him back. She is off-limits, even for me. He could tell your relationship seemed rocky but he would settle for just friends, of course, that all depended on you being open to it. But you were so beautiful, and it pissed him off that your boyfriend was nowhere near you. If I was him, I would be worshipping the ground you walked on.

Charles Leclerc approached him outside of the hospitality before doing the little drill the Miami Dolphins had prepared for them. Noticing his sudden halt in conversation he followed Max’s gaze to see it trained on you and smiled knowingly. “Ah, she’s Burrow’s girlfriend right?” he asked and Max nodded, his speech coming back to him slowly. “Y-yeah, they’re Red Bull’s guests” he replied and Charles smiled. “You like her,” he whispered. “She has a boyfriend,” Max replied quickly. “Yet you didn’t deny it,” he said before patting his shoulder and leaving.

Spotting Braxton you greeted him, smiling he beckoned you over and you greeted his teammates. “Tell me have you seen my boyfriend around? He left me stranded” you whispered. Braxton looked at you apologetically, “He was with us in the paddock club, I think he’s still there” he said. “Okay, thanks Braxton,” you said and didn’t move. Max went over to you and introduced you to the other drivers.

Heading back to the Red Bull hospitality you stood on the balcony and watched the drivers go through the drill, it was funny to see them a little out of their element. Joe had miraculously deigned to appear and he put his arm around you, you leaned into his touch and talked in hush tones, still, you couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach.

Days had passed after the Grand Prix and you guys were at Joe’s beach house in California, things hadn’t changed and you were feeling like it was time to call it quits. To distract yourself you had gone out to surf and had just come back, sitting on the porch with your feet on the railing you closed your eyes and listened to the ocean breeze. Joe was calling out to you and hadn’t heard him until now. “What?” you called back walking into the house. “Did you go to the beach and didn’t tell me?” he asked irritated. “Joe I told you I was going out for a surf, you didn’t reply because you were busy doing god knows what and I left” you replied crossing your arms. “Well, do you want to go back?” he asked. “No Joe, I’m tired,” you said flatly. “Whatever, I’m going out for a run,” he said with a sigh and turned around. The door slamming shut made you jump and you noticed a package addressed to you. Grabbing it you went upstairs and tossed it on your bed, before showering.

Sitting down you opened it and noticed it was a RedBull PR package with a note addressed to you from Max. With a smile you read the note and opened the box, taking a picture of it you posted it on social media and tagged Max and the team, thanking them. Feeling tired you set the box aside and decided to take a nap. Waking up in cold sweat you let out a sigh and ran your hands through your hair. You were feeling guilty for your dream, why am I dreaming of someone else and not Joe?

Shaking your head you decided to splash cold water on your face, and once again the image flashed in your brain. Max’s eyes were raking your body at an agonizingly slow pace, his hands were firm as they held you by the waist before he leaned in to give you the most teasing of kisses that left you wanting more. This is bad, stop thinking about him. Why hadn’t Joe touched me like this in months? Am I a bad girlfriend for thinking this? There’s no such as bad thoughts, only your actions talk

Joe had come back from his run and you had decided you needed to talk, “We need to talk” you said sternly. “About what?” Joe asked, “Us,” you said swallowing the lump in your throat. “I need you to be fucking honest Joe, no bullshit. Do you not want to be with me anymore?” you asked. Joe looked at you surprised, “Baby, why are you asking this shit?” he asked. “Answer the question please,” you said as your voice cracked a little and you cursed yourself. “I- y-yes,” he replied but he was hesitant and that told you all you needed to know. “Tell me, when was the last time we felt like a couple and not to people drifting away?” you responded. “Last week, we went out,” he said not answering the question.

“That was the Miami Grand Prix, and you left me alone the entire week Joe! Do you know what that felt like? It felt fucking awful” you said fighting back a sob. “It was just a slip-up, baby. We’ll get back on track. I promise” he said while reaching for you and his gaze hardened a little, your heart felt like it was being ripped out of your chest. “Joe, have you even realized that we’ve been pulling apart for months?” “I don’t think it’s been months, you’re being dramatic!” he said raising his voice a little. Scoffing you turned around and headed up the stairs, blinking tears away. Joe was behind you and followed you into the bedroom, you were blindly throwing things in your suitcases. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked. “Packing,” you replied dryly. “We can work this out, we can go to couples therapy, I can be better. Don’t fucking do this” he pleaded. “Joe I’m tired! I’m tired of feeling like a fly on the wall, you haven’t treated me like your girlfriend in months and I thought that you needed space after recovering and I gave you space but you just feel a million miles apart and I can’t do this!” You exclaimed as you looked at him with tears spilling out of your eyes. His eyes landed on the box, “Is it because of him?” he asked.

You scoffed, “No it’s because of you, I’m done Joe,” you said tossing the box in your last suitcase and zipping it up. Grabbing them you refused his help and went downstairs. “You know what sucks most, I thought you were the man I wanted to marry one day,” you said and his head dropped. “For what it’s worth, I had the best years of my life with and I will always wish you well,” you said softly. “Please, I’ll retrace my steps, and make it up to you” he pleaded. “Retrace them but we’re done Joe,” you said as you looked at him one last time. “Can we at least be friends?” he begged. You shook your head, “It would hurt us too much, goodbye Joe” you said as you opened the door. You had called no cab but you took your luggage to the end of the sidewalk and called for one.

Hanging up you couldn’t help but break into a sob, when the cab got there you asked to go to the airport and booked a ticket to the first flight out to France. This was how you had ended up in Nice hours later. Joe hadn’t made an effort to call you and that made you feel worse. Your relationship had run its course and you wanted to forget everything and just erase years worth of memories and feelings. Little did you know that something as silly as an Instagram story of your hotel room views would catch Max’s attention.

Messaging Max you told him you were in Nice and he asked if you had any plans, to which you replied you didn’t. You considered him your friend and decided to accept his proposition to meet him in Monaco. Looking like less of a mess, you put one of your favorite dresses on and got ready, taking the train you met him out of the station. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Nothing!” You exclaimed and faked a smile, he didn’t buy it. “You called it quits with Joe?” he asked. Not bothering to deny you nodded, “Come with me to the races, I’ll get you a pass. As your friend, I don’t want to leave you alone,” he said. “Max, I can’t,” you said. “Why?” he asked. “Because-” you said stopping in your tracks. “I have no place to stay, I packed all my life into suitcases what do I do with that? I can’t just jet-set and leave!” you said. “Stay with me then,” he said as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Noticing your hesitation he turned to you, “Please, I have a spare room. No one lives with me, I can help you get your things and when you don’t feel like coming with me you can stay. Just until you sort everything out” he said. Giving in you nodded.

Determined to help lift your spirits Max took you out to eat and for a walk around the principality. Afterwards, he drove to Nice and helped get your things and settle into his apartment. Weeks had passed and you had taken Max up on the offer to attend races with him as his friend. Certain gossip accounts had gotten wind of your split with Joe and your presence in the races alongside the Dutchman.

People had started to speculate but you ignored them, your friendship with Max had evolved and feelings had been developing but you never acted on them. You liked Max, and you were certain that he felt the same way. Tonight was your last night in Singapore, your hotel room was dark and you couldn’t sleep. Reaching for your phone you looked at the clock, it was 2:25 am. Sighing you sat up and headed towards the bathroom to splash water on your face. Debating knocking on Max’s door you pondered the option for a few minutes. Hesitant steps carried you next door, knocking once the door immediately swung up, revealing a shirtless Max. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice showing no hint of sleep. Suddenly, you felt self-conscious, “I can’t sleep,” you said, “Me neither” he replied. Leading you in he closed the door behind him and locked it.

Taking a seat on his bed, you fiddled with the hem of your oversized shirt, Max looked at you before taking a seat next to you, and motioning you to move closer to him. Both of you sat facing each other. Oh how badly he wanted to admit you had been plaguing his dreams, he didn’t mind it but he just wished they were no longer dreams. Forcing the thoughts away he talked to you in a soft voice, minutes had passed and he couldn’t help but look at your lips. You noticed and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Fuck it,” his voice was hoarse and he reached out to you, kissing you as if his life depended on it. Your hands felt around in the darkness and found their way to his neck, you kissed him back and you pulled away breathless. His blue orbs were taking you in, a chill ran up your spine, this was starting to look like a familiar scene. Max initiated the second kiss and it was much rougher than the first, his hands were holding tightly onto your waist and you shifted to sit on his lap, you bit his lip and he groaned. Pulling apart his eyes slowly raked your body, his fingers slipped under your shirt and his touch sent shivers up your body.

“Max, Max” you said pulling apart and panting, he called out your name, and god, it felt so fucking right. “Don’t stop” you said in a low voice, he chuckled, “Only if you ask me to, Schat”. What if it feels like a vow, we’ll both uphold somehow? His kisses `never faltered, he was holding you ever so delicately, your back met his pillows, and your shirt was discarded on the floor. Heat rushed to your cheeks as his eyes raked over you, his hands hadn’t left your waist, reaching up you pulled him by the neck and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. Breaking away he started kissing your neck as his hands roamed your body, you sighed and he smiled while leaving wet kisses down your chest. You could tell he was testing the waters and you simply wanted him to dive in, “M-Max” you said. “I’m taking my time Schatz,” he said and you mentally cursed him. Bringing him up you kissed him and couldn’t stop the moan that left your lips when his hand found your thigh.

Max groaned, he had heard you once already and he was counting on hearing you again. Clothing was on the floor, his hand spread your legs apart and he looked at you, “Schatz” he breathed out. “Yes,” you replied, with a soft pant. That was all the reassurance he needed. It had been so long since you had felt like this and you welcomed every feeling, without holding back. Everything built up like waves and came crashing down. “What if he’s written mine on my upper thigh?”

(all photo credits go to the respective owners)

#max verstappen #max verstappen x female reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #joe burrow

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imzadi-caskett-huddy · 2 days

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It Started With a Kiss (6/?)

Thanks to everyone for reading and for those who left comments on the last chapter!

One thing I want to make clear that I’m not sure some of you get–I do NOT necessarily personally believe that Castle is solely responsible for the catastrophe that was the Hamptons Memorial Day invitation disaster at the end of season 2. My personal feelings are one thing, but when I’m writing, I’m channeling the character’s feelings. And in that moment after emptying 2 bottles of wine with Lanie, Beckett’s filter was gone and she was feeling frustrated and emotional…so yeah, she had that line about if Gina hadn’t shown up, there wouldn’t have been Josh. So no, that was not me personally blaming Castle for the disaster of the season 2 finale…or even Beckett completely blaming him. That was one line from a romantically frustrated woman who had a lot of wine. All that to say…just because a character says it in my story does not necessarily mean it is my own personal belief. I am writing that character.

Now, this chapter is based around the episode “Law and Murder,” which aired March 28…so in the timeline, it is within a week of the last chapter.

I still do not own Castle…

xxxxx

Thankfully Kate had the day off after her night of wine and conversation with Lanie. She wasn’t hung over from the alcohol…no, it took more than a couple bottles of wine split between her and her best friend to give Kate Beckett a hangover…but she was definitely emotionally hung over. She couldn’t help but contemplate how and when her personal life had started to read more and more like a storyline from Temptation Lane. Groaning, she pulled her pillow over her face.

After a few minutes, she pushed herself out of bed. She needed to move, to do…something. It was the perfect opportunity to practice some yoga. Not only would that give her body an outlet to get rid of her pent-up restlessness, but it would help her mind refocus and recenter as well. Hopefully, after an hour or more of yoga and some meditation, her mind would be much more clear and her body would have expended enough energy that she didn’t feel the need to pace her apartment like a caged tiger.

xxxxx

“Oh Richard…you actually said ‘Pick me. Choose me. Love me?’” Martha asked her son as he sat slouched over his desk with his head in his hands.

“She’d just made a statement about wanting a man to be there for her…she was on the outs with her boyfriend. I wanted to shoot my shot by being…I don’t know, poetic or romantic or something. What was I supposed to say?”

Martha shook her head. “Well you could have at least come up with your own original speech instead of going all Grey’s Anatomy on the poor girl.”

“What? I didn’t go Grey’s Anatomy on Beckett.”

“Richard, please. You stole Meredith Grey’s speech to Dr. McDreamy when they were in that salacious love triangle with his wife…who, by the way, is also a gorgeous redhead,” she chuckled.

Castle was silent for a minute and sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. “God, she’s got me plagiarising from a TV show!” He leaned his head against the back of his chair and dropped his hands helplessly at his sides. “It doesn’t matter…she walked away with Motorcycle Boy almost a month ago. Obviously, she picked him.”

“Are you sure she picked him?” Martha asked her son.

Castle just looked at his mother like she’d grown another head. “Of course I’m sure. It was obvious from the way she walked off with him with her arm around him that she chose him. Why would you ask me that?”

“Just…hear me out, kiddo. Because it seems to me that you’re making assumptions instead of getting the facts. You sprung your little speech on her in the middle of a case…a serious case. And ending a relationship with someone you care about isn’t as simple as just looking at the other person and saying it’s over; Katherine hardly had time to do so during the case you two were working, and it’s not like she could end it in the precinct when he showed up. Those things should be done in private, and you didn’t give her a chance to end it before you started assuming she’d made her choice,” she pointed out.

“It’s been almost a month. If she ended it with him, why hasn’t she said anything?” Castle countered.

“It amazes me that you can be so clueless when it comes to a woman you are supposedly completely infatuated with. Really, Richard,” Martha shook her head. “Katherine values her privacy. She’s hardly going to broadcast her personal life around at work. She’s also not the type of woman to end a serious relationship and jump right into the waiting arms of another man, no matter how she may feel about him.” Seeing Castle about to say something, she held up a hand to stop him. “She obviously cared about this motorcycle man to have stayed in a relationship with him as long as she did. Assuming she did end the relationship to be with you, it’s still going to take her time to process things.”

“What your point, Mother?”

She reached out and gently patted his forearm. “My point is that you have no idea what she has decided to do unless you talk to her. You have to give her a chance to tell you what she decided before you start assuming anything.”

Castle sighed. “What if she says she picked him?”

Martha gave him a sympathetic smile. “Then you’re going to have to get over her, kiddo.”

“There is no getting over her. I don’t know how to get over her. She's in my veins...I can't get her out. I’ve tried, believe me. Last summer when she was with Demming…I tried to get over her, cold turkey, in the Hamptons with Gina. I’ve tried to distance myself…I just...nothing has worked.”

“If you won't walk away, then I’m afraid you’re just going to have to wait her out and hope for the best,” she advised him.

xxxxx

The McUsic case had taken up most of her time over the next week, and Kate was relieved that Castle seemed to be acting normal…or at least normal for Castle…again. They seemed to have slipped back into their old roles with their old banter…they were once again Castle and Beckett. He’d even confided in her about his worry over Alexis lying to him as well as their argument when Alexis figured out he had tracked her phone…which Kate had to admit, Alexis had a point. So when the Captain had bid them goodnight, she’d given Castle a smile.

“I’m gonna get out of here…Forbidden Planet is playing at the Angelica,” she told him.

Castle did his best to hide his surprise that she was a fan of the very movie he was planning to see himself. “Date night with Josh?” he asked, trying to be casual with the question. His mother had suggested he ask if she’d made a choice; this was as good a time and way to ask as any, he figured.

Kate paused slightly at his question. She knew she had to tell him about Josh; that much she’d decided the week prior over wine with Lanie. But she wasn’t completely comfortable having the conversation in the middle of the precinct bullpen where anyone might overhear. “Um…no,” she stated, grabbing her coat and purse. “You want to come with me?” she offered, doing her best to mitigate the hopefulness in her tone.

He was trying to figure out what it meant…or didn’t mean…that she told him she didn’t have plans with Josh. She hadn’t said that she’d ended things with Josh, but he remembered his mother’s words about how Kate was private and wouldn’t necessarily tell him about her personal life at work. She’d urged him to give Kate an opportunity to talk to him; maybe this was it. “Forbidden Planet…is that the one with the robot?” he asked. Maybe if he played it like he didn’t know the movie, accepting her invitation wouldn’t make him feel so desperate.

She stopped in her tracks. “You’ve never seen Forbidden Planet?”

He shrugged, continuing to play it nonchalantly. “More of a Star Wars, Matrix man myself.

“Oh my gosh, Castle. This is the movie that inspired those two. That’s it, I’m taking you. My treat. I won’t take no for an answer,” she insisted, starting for the elevator.

“Oh no, no. I have plans…” he protested.

She shook her head as she continued toward the elevator. “Nope. Not anymore. We’re going to the movies.” He smiled slightly as he followed her to the elevator. “Oh, Castle, you’re going to love this. This is Leslie Neilsen before he became a comic genius,” she continued as the elevator doors closed

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she looked over at him with a smile. She was silent for a moment. They were alone now…no one could overhear them. “I…there is no Josh, not anymore. We…I…broke up with him…” she said quietly, looking straight ahead as she delivered the news.

Castle’s eyes widened. “There’s…I mean…you…uh…you broke up…with him?” he stammered over his words. She said she had broken up with him. That meant it wasn’t a mutual breakup, that she had been the one to end things.

“Yes,” she answered, keeping her eyes glued to the elevator doors in front of her.

“Oh…” he nodded. So what did that mean? Did that mean she picked him? Did that mean she was ready for a relationship with him? Did that mean she ended things with Josh but wasn’t going to be with him either? A million thoughts flooded through his head, his overactive writer’s imagination coming up with both good and bad scenarios. Then he heard his mother’s voice again telling him she may need some time, to stop making assumptions and to talk to her. “Can I have candy and popcorn?” he finally asked as the elevator doors opened.

She smiled because once again, that was so him to ask that question. Everything was okay between them. “Yes,” she agreed as they exited the elevator to head for the doors of the precinct

“Can we stop at Remy’s for burgers after?” he asked, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. She’d broken up with Josh. She was single. He had a chance. He hadn’t felt this free or happy in months.

She rolled her eyes at the question, but she couldn’t hide the slightest hint of a smile as they headed outside. “We’ll see.”

xxxxx

It became clear not even five minutes into the movie that Castle had absolutely gotten one over on her when he’d told her he’d never seen the movie as he seemingly couldn’t help himself but speak the words along with the characters. But she didn’t care; sure, she’d give him hell for it after the movie, but she didn’t care that he’d pulled her leg to get her to insist he go to the movies with her. She actually kind of thought it was…sweet; obviously wanted to go to the movie with her, but probably didn't want to pressure her, so he let her decide how badly she wanted to go with him. And ultimately he was there with her…that was all that mattered.

“So…is that a yes for Remy’s?” Castle asked as they exited the movie theater.

“You just had popcorn. And candy.” To anyone overhearing her, it sounded like she was talking to a child, not a fully grown man.

“That was movie food…you know, a snack,” he shrugged. “I’m talking about dinner. Burgers…those shakes you love…” he added with a smile.

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Fine. But you’re buying.”

“I thought you said tonight was your treat?” he countered with a smile

“I said I was bringing you to the movie as my treat because I thought you’d never seen it before,” she laughed. “Oh, don’t give me that look. You’ve totally seen the movie multiple times…you knew all the dialogue,” she pointed out.

“Did I?”

She laughed again. “You didn’t even realize you were speaking it, did you?” she tugged her lower lip between her teeth as she shook her head

He chuckled at that. “I guess Remy’s is on me.”

She smiled and lightly nudged his shoulder with hers as they walked down the street. “I would have taken you to see Forbidden Planet even if you hadn’t tricked me, Castle.”

“Yeah?"

“Yeah,” she smiled.

xxxxx

Dinner at Remy’s was pleasant and normal; they bantered as normal; they talked and laughed like normal; she even stole a couple of his fries when hers were gone like normal. The drive back to his loft was silent…but it was a comfortable silence.

“You want to come up? I can open a bottle of wine,” he offered when she pulled up in front of his building. Aside from the information that Josh was no longer part of the picture, they hadn’t really talked about them, or even aknowledged all of the events that had transpired between them since January. Castle didn’t want to push…or assume. But he also wasn’t sure where he stood, where they stood. He wanted to give her...them...an opportunity to talk about things.

She toyed with the idea for a moment, but then she remembered the last time she’d gone to his loft and they’d shared a bottle of wine on Valentine's Day; that was not going to help their situation at all. And though she was now single, she wasn’t sure she was completely ready to be with him. “I'm on call tonight. It's late, and I work early in the morning, so I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she finally answered softly.

“Oh…oh, I just thought…uh…with, you know…um…you might…you know, nevermind,” he shook his head, offering her a reassuring smile.

She stopped him with her hand on his arm when he moved to get out of her car. “Castle…” she started softly. “About what you said before...during the case with the bomb…I…I just…” she struggled over her words. Kate Beckett was not a woman of words, she was a woman of action. But Castle was a writer, a man of words, and she knew she needed to give him some…he deserved that from her. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t…I just need…can you give me a little time?” she finally asked. “I’m on the same page, you’re just…ahead of me. I need a little time to catch up,” she tried to explain.

He followed along with her words, his eyes never leaving hers, and his smile grew slightly the more words she got out. She wanted to be with him, she just needed him to wait a little. That was something he could definitely do. “No surprise there...I am a speed reader,” he smirked. It had the desired effect when she gave a smile and a soft laugh. He gently took her hand before continuing. “I’d wait forever if you asked me to,” he told her seriously.

“I’m not asking you to wait forever,” she promised him with a smile. “Maybe just…a few weeks…” she tugged her lip between her teeth.

He nodded with a smile. “Ok.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek softly. “Until tomorrow, Kate.”

“Hey Castle?” she stopped him once again before he could get out of the car. “Thanks.”

He gave her a genuine smile. “Always.”

xxxxx

I hope you guys liked this one!

I honestly thought I would be able to make it through the last half of season 3 with being able to write a chapter for every episode. However, despite my best efforts, I am going to skip over the next episode, “Slice of Death,” because try as I might there is just NOTHING in there I’m going to be able to really do a chapter around, especially since I’ve got Castle and Beckett in a really good place right now. So the next chapter will be based around “The Dead Pool,” which you all may remember is the Alex Conrad episode. Don’t worry, there is plenty I’ll be able to use for a chapter with that episode!

As always, I love any and all comment you guys have!

#castle #caskett #kate beckett #richard castle #castle fanfiction

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