#he was meant to be facing the other direction

[theemporium]

[3.5k] after his iconic first race win in formula one, lando gets to celebrate with his three favourite people. or, the charlandax smut i accidentally promised after a lando win with a lestappen podium. (smut)

note: this is fucking filthy and i kinda feel like i need to go to a confession booth. okay bye, nobody perceive me after this. she’s also unedited so beware (I’m too lazy to reread and edit rn)

.

Lando Norris felt like he was on top of the fucking world but maybe that was just how it felt from the top step of the podium.

It hadn’t really hit him yet, despite his ears ringing from his own screams and the cheers from the crowd and the fans and his own team. It didn’t feel real until the national anthem began playing through the speakers, until he heard his team singing along, until he realised this was his reality. 

He was a Grand Prix winner. 

Finally. 

Surreal was the only word to describe how he felt. After years of second-place and third-place podium finishes, of people telling him his time would come, of having so many close calls, he did it. He fucking did it. And he didn’t just skim a win, it was fully fucking his as he soared past the chequered flag.

And for once, Lando basked in the knowledge that all eyes were on him. It didn’t give him that prickling, itching feeling under his skin. It didn’t make him want to  hunch his shoulders up to his ears. It didn’t make the little voice in the back of his head send him spiralling over every little thing he could be doing wrong. 

He had just won the Miami Grand Prix and everyone was staring at him and he fucking loved it.

But it meant more than just a win to Lando, it meant so much more than a trophy to add to his collection back home. It was about the years spent achieving this dream. It was about the effort and the support he had from the team to reach this point. It was about sharing this moment and standing on the podium with two people who meant the fucking world to him with the third watching all three of them from down below. 

It meant the fucking world to Lando. 

It was a blur of happiness and excitement and adrenaline as he stood on that top step. It felt like he was in a movie when the trophy was handed to him, the number one staring back at him like it was reminding him he had done it. It felt like a fucking dream when the champagne celebration started, his hand barely wrapped around the neck of the bottle when Charles and Max drenched and drowning him in champagne.

It was completely fucking unbelievable this was finally his reality.

Time was a blur of big smiles, loud cheers and so many people congratulating him. It was overwhelming in the best way possible, it made something in his chest burst with pride as he felt his team slap him on the back as he walked through the garage. He felt like his life was complete when you threw your arms around him, tugging him close until your bodies felt like one.

“M’so cold,” he murmured as he wound his arms around you, holding you closer as he buries his face into your neck for some privacy, despite the countless cameras pointing at him.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered back, just loud enough for him to hear because he was the only one who mattered in that moment. “This is the first of many.”

He sniffled, feeling his throat close up a bit but he just squeezed you tighter when the words didn’t come out as smoothly as he wanted. 

However, you were pulled away from him seconds later as he was directed towards the camera. With media duties and team debriefs and many more commitments, he didn’t have time to stop and celebrate with the people he wanted. He had to perform for the cameras, for the fans, for the people watching before he could. 

And honestly, he couldn't complain. There were worse problems to have.

His brain was running a million miles an hour, so many thoughts and feelings and emotions to try and comprehend that he barely noticed the other person in his driver’s room until the door shut behind him and he felt a pair of lips on his. 

“I am so proud of you, mon champion,” Charles murmured against his lips, the kiss short-lived due to the huge smile on his face. He pulled back enough to look at Lando properly, his hands holding the Brit’s face. “So, so proud of you.”

Lando felt his cheeks burn. “M’glad you and Max were up there with me,” he admitted, that funny feeling in his chest returning before he glanced around the room noticing that Charles was the only one in his driver room. “Where are the others?” Pause. “How did you even sneak in here?”

“I have my ways,” Charles answered vaguely, his eyes glinting with mischief. “And I’m here to help you hurry up. They are waiting in the car.” 

Lando snorted. “And they sent you to hurry me up?” 

“I may have come third, mon amour, but I’m still fast.” 

Despite his words, it took a few more minutes of Charles pressing kisses all over his face and mumbling a load of French that Lando didn’t understand before he was finally able to grab his belongings and make it out of the McLaren motorhome. 

His whole body was buzzing with energy, far too hyped up to even care about the way his face burned when he climbed into the backseat of Charles’ race weekend car, unable to wipe the smile off his face. 

This. 

This was what he had been waiting for. 

This moment to be with the people who loved more than his heart knew he was capable of. A moment to be with the people who believed in him no matter what, even when the rest of the world doubted him. 

And if Lando was being so completely honest, he was so lost in the buzz of his win that he didn’t think anything about your hand resting on his upper thigh. He was still lost in the race a few hours ago, still lost in the feeling of crossing the line and hearing Will’s voice over the radio confirming he secured his first Formula One Grand Prix win. 

So lost in that moment that he barely had a chance to drop his backpack on the floor of Max’s huge hotel suite before the Dutchman was reaching for him. With the privacy of the hotel room door locked from the rest of the world, Max didn’t hold back as he raked his hand through Lando’s curls. His fingers twisted in his hair, tugging sharply as his teeth nipped the Brit’s bottom lip. 

Lando couldn’t help himself when he let out a whine.

“Fuck,” Max groaned, tugging on his hair again as he watched Lando’s eyes flutter shut. “Look at our race winner, hm? So pretty, schat.”

Lando’s lips parted but words were lost on him. Instead, his eyes darted where you saddled up against Max’s side, head resting on his shoulder as you looked at Lando with a massive grin. 

“I think you broke him,” you teased, a faux pout on your lips. “Guess that throws all our plans out the window.”

Lando blinked before quickly shaking his head. “I—no, wait, what plans?”

Max grinned. “Your reward, baby. Didn’t think we were gonna celebrate your big day, huh?”

“I—” Lando paused, feeling something deep in his stomach twist in desire. “I just…I don’t know. I thought we were gonna go out…or something.”

“We could,” Charles spoke up as he slipped in behind Lando, his hands on the younger boy’s waist. “If that’s what you want. We can go out and celebrate with everyone else.”

Lando swallowed. “Or?”

“Or,” you repeated, your eyes lingering on his kiss-swollen lips. “You let us treat you like a proper race winner.”

“And what does that treatment include?” Lando asked, because that was just who he was. That little brat in him that wanted to know his options, that wanted to know exactly how he was being rewarded, who wanted to know exactly what was getting done to him. The little brat in him that was mouthy and sassy and usually got put in his place—that wanted to be put in his place.

And Max knew that. He knew that if he reached down, Lando was probably half-hard already. He knew that no matter what he said, Land would be down for it. He could see the glint in the Brit’s eyes, that realisation of what he could have without realising it. 

“Anything you want,” Max murmured, his thumb lightly tracing along Lando’s bottom lip. “You’re the winner, Lando. Our winner.”

…

Anything you want. 

That was his limit—completely fucking endless. He had all the control in the palm of his hands to do whatever he pleased, whatever he desired, whatever he fucking wanted. 

But that wasn’t what Lando wanted. He didn’t want to be in charge. He didn’t want to be the person making the calls and decisions. That wasn’t his role in the bedroom and he never really wanted to be. He liked being the one who got to lay back, the one that people tried to tame and dominate only to realise he didn’t listen as easily as people wanted. 

He liked being the one that people worked to break. 

So, that was exactly what Max gave to him and Lando only slightly regretted his decision as he slumped back against the Dutchman, grinding his ass back against the older boy’s straining cock as he threw his head back against Max’s shoulder.

“Please, please, please,” Lando whined, trying to buck his hips forwards but Max kept his body in place, just where he wanted him. “S’too much.”

“I know, schatje,” Max mused, pressing a lingering kiss at the base of his neck just to hear Lando let out a small moan at the contact. “But look how pretty they look for you, all for you. You don’t want them to stop, do you?” 

But Lando couldn’t bring himself to respond. 

“None of that,” Max muttered, squeezing Lando’s sides to get the boy to listen. “Thought my winner was gonna be good for me, huh? Look at them, Lando. Look how good they are being for you. Look at how much they are enjoying this.”

The boy only managed to let out a whimper as he fluttered his eyes open, his chin tucking into his chest as he looked down at the sight Max was demanding of him. 

And, fuck, it made his knees buckle.

The two of you were absolute fucking messes. It felt like something out of a porno, one that would have Lando panting and whining and fantasising about because never once did he think it was realistic. And yet, here you and Charles were, looking like something out of his deepest desires. 

He couldn’t focus on one of you, it would have been a crime to not stare and ogle you both. The way you both looked utterly perfect on your knees in front of him, glossy eyes and flushed cheeks and looking so fucking blissed out as you both worshipped his cock—like you were fulfilling a purpose, like this was what the two of you were made for. 

And it was messy as fuck, something that maybe would have been gross to everyone else in the world, but Lando thought it was so fucking hot. The evidence of his previous orgasms splattered across you both, covering your lips and chins and naked chests. The way your lips wrapped around the head of his cock as Charles licked down the underside of his cock until he nosed Lando's balls. The way Charles had one hand wrapped around his leaking cock, pumping and stroking himself as you squeezed and played with your tits like it would give you some relief. 

But it wasn’t about your pleasure or Charles’ or Max’s. 

It was all about Lando. 

“Such good sluts on their knees for you,” Max muttered, lips brushing against his ear as his warm breath tickled against Lando’s skin. “Usually that’s you, schat. Getting on your knees for me, doing whatever I tell you.”

“Fuck,” he let out in a breathless whimper, turning his head to try and nuzzle his face into Max’s neck. 

“Do you like this, Lando? Like seeing them be such whores for your cock? So desperate and needy?” Max continued, his hands tightening on the younger boy’s waist as he looked down at you and Charles.

You let out a whine at his words, your thighs clenched together and your eyes fluttering shut as you traced your tongue along the slit of his cock. Your moans vibrated around his cock, leaving the boy a puddle underneath your touch as Charles placed wet, open-mouthed kisses along his balls. 

“Bet they would stay there all night if you wanted them to,” Max mused as his eyes caught teary green eyes staring up at him, desperation shining in the pretty colour of them. “Bet Charles would love to take your cock down his pretty throat, he always does it so well for me. Hm, amour? Think you could take our pretty winner’s cock like a good boy?”

The sound Charles let out was pitiful and straight out of a fucking porno.

“Max,” Lando breathed out, his hands reaching back to try and grab onto the Dutchman. “Please, I-I need…”

“What do you need?” Max questioned, squeezing his sides. “Need more than their mouths, baby? Or maybe you need more than that.”

Lando felt his whole face burn as he let out a shameless moan when one of Max’s hands began wandering, when his fingers brushed along his skin before squeezing the fat of his ass. 

“The champagne wasn’t enough, hm? Maybe we need to fill you up,” Max suggested, like it was something as casual as talking about dinner options. “Bet you’d feel so nice and tight around me, baby. Maybe let Charles fill your pretty throat instead.”

“Please,” Lando whined.

“Yeah, you want that?” He could feel Max’s smile against his skin. “Let our pretty girl bounce on your cock whilst we fill you up? She would look so pretty sitting on top of you.”

Lando nodded his head vigorously, his nails slightly digging into Max’s skin. “I need it, Max, need it so bad.”

Max’s teeth scraped along the side of his neck. “Beg for it.” 

So he did. 

He begged for it until his voice was hoarse and his legs were shaking and his babbles were practically incoherent. He begged until he felt Max’s lips on his skin, joined by Charles and yours moments later as you three kissed and worshipped every inch of his body. He begged until his face was burning red, his blush spreading down his neck and chest as you praised him—your race winner—until he couldn’t take it any more.

He begged for it as you held his face, prepping kisses all over his face whilst Max worked him open. 

He begged for it as Charles marked along his neck and chest to help him relax as Max slowly slid inside him, stretching him open until he was a whimpering mess.

He begged for it as you slowly sunk down on his cock, your cunt already soaking and slick with your own arousal as he buried himself inside you. 

He begged for it until his hands were gripping Charles’ thighs, nails digging into his skin as he urged his cock further down his throat until he felt fucking full.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, rocking your hips back and forth as you let your hands skim along his skin. Your fingers traced along the planes of his abs, watching them softly clench under your touch before you traced along his sides. You kept your hands moving, feeling the need to touch every fucking inch of him as he preened and squirmed under your touch. “You look so perfect like this.” 

Lando let out a muffled moan around Charles’ cock.

“Letting us fill you up, make you feel so good,” you continued, the walls of your pussy clenching around him. “This is what our race winner deserves. So pretty and fast today, baby, it’s so hot.”

One of his hands let go of Charles, blindly reaching out towards you until you caught the hint to intertwine your fingers together. You raised it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss onto the back of his hand and something about the soft gesture whilst his body was being fucked into an inch of his life made the boy spiral. 

He couldn’t do anything but just take it, let the overwhelming pleasure wash over him until his whole body felt like it was on fire. His nerve endings felt like they had been turned up beyond the dial, like every touch was more thrilling than he could ever imagine. The words of praise was a muffled mess around him, three voices all mixed together as he felt hands all over his body. He felt safe, he felt full, he felt complete. 

It was a blur of too much pleasure and excitement and gratification when he finally came, white spots dotting his vision as he felt himself completely spill inside you whilst your cunt clenched around him, as Max’s cock hit the perfect spot deep inside him with every thrust. He was so lost in his own orgasm, in his own moans and whines and noises to fully realise the domino effect he started. 

To really appreciate the sight of you coming on his cock, bouncing up and down on his cock whilst your tits moved with each thrust. To really enjoy the sensation of Max coming deep inside him, squeezing him so hard that he was sure his skin would bruise the next day. To watch the way Charles stroked himself a few more times before spilling over his chest, just for you to lean down and lick up the mess until you leaned down to kiss him senseless. 

To be completely honest, he was waiting to wake up and realise this whole day was a dream. 

But he blinked. And blinked once more for good measure. And your smiling face was still there to reassure him this was real, that everything about today was real. 

“Hey,” he whispered, voice a little rough and hoarse. 

“Hey, baby,” you grinned back at him as you raised your hand to gently cup his face, your thumb wiping away a few stray tears that slipped out. “How are you feeling, Mr Race Winner?”

And despite the exhaustion settled deep in his bones, Lando beamed at you. “Feel like I’m the king of this fucking world.”

You giggled. “Then our job here is complete.” 

Lando huffed out a laugh, his eyes fluttering shut as he tried to fight the urge to curl up and sleep for the next week straight. 

“Don’t tell me that’s you done for the night,” Max’s voice spoke from somewhere else in the room, somewhere away from the bed but Lando couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes just yet. “There’s a whole city wanting to celebrate with you tonight.”

“Ugh, being a race winner is so much work,” Lando whined playfully, reaching for you to pull you closer before you could pull away from him. “Let’s just stay here forever.”

“All a part of the title, mon amour,” Charles teased as he settled down beside the younger boy on the bed. He leaned in, placing a quick kiss to Lando’s forehead. “I heard the other drivers making bets on who could buy you the most shots.”

Lando let out a breath. “Fuck, they are gonna try to kill me.”

“We wouldn’t let that happen,” you assured him, but he could hear the smile in your voice. “I’m sure Max would join you.”

“Thanks, schat,” Max grumbled as he wandered back into the room, a wet washcloth in his hand. “We have a few hours before we are meant to meet everyone anyways. Have a nap, you can shower when you wake up.”

Lando blinked his eyes open, a cheeky smile on his face. “Alone?”

Max rolled his eyes. “It’s never enough for you.”

“I’m a high maintenance guy,” Lando replied. 

“We know,” you murmured with a snort, only to gasp when he pinched your side. “Hey!”

“You can’t yell at me, I’m a race winner,” he shot back at you, grinning wider when you rolled your eyes. 

“Yes, that is exactly how this works,” Charles snorted as he slumped down on the pillow beside Lando, reaching for the Brit to curl up beside him. “That and club blowjobs.”

“It was one time,” Max grumbled. “And it wasn’t even my idea!”

“I didn’t regret it for a second,” you smiled shamelessly at the Dutchman before raising your hand, trying to pull him down onto the bed with the three of you. “C’mon, we can clean up properly later. I wanna cuddle.” 

“So needy.”

“In the wise words of race winner Lando Norris, I’m a high maintenance guy.”

“Hell yeah, baby,” Lando murmured, his cheek pressed into the pillow with a sleepy smile on his face. “Someone stitch that onto a pillow.” 

“Please go to sleep before I gag you both.” 

“They would probably like that, mon amour.”

“You too, Charles.” 

“Always so bossy, Verstappen.”

.

#charlandax #charles leclerc #lando norris #max verstappen #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #lando norris smut #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen smut #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #formula one smut

[theoldsports]

SOUR.

Art Donaldson x Reader (Patrick Zweig x Reader) | SORRY series | 4.2k words

it’s finally here by popular demand. Patrick has entered the plot. this is set before all of the prior chapters, two days before the Donaldson wedding. can be read as part of the SORRY SERIES (read more episodes of their lives here) or on its own. lemme know if you’d like to be on the taglist.

warnings: 18+. angst. it’s brutal angst. more than allusions to Patrick’s canonical use of hard drugs. rehab, allusion to an OD, mention of Art’s disordered eating patterns. they’re bad for each other in a good way. the Donaldsons have a friendly dog. coveting another man’s wife. discussion of niche sexual fantasies. making out. biting. tornados/extreme weather. running away from your problems.

“Art?”

“Nngh.”

“Artie, wake up.”

“‘M up. Fhhh… ‘m up. What’s the matter?” Art grumbled with half shut eyes. “Somethin’ wrong?” He whispered even though they were alone. It was nighttime which meant whispering to Art.

“I don’t like this storm.”

What a sign that storm should have been.

Art smirked. “We’re getting married in, like, three days and you’re worried about the weather?”

“There’s a tornado warning. Or watch. Whichever the worse one is. I saw it on the news.”

Art frowned. “You ever been through a tornado?”

“No.”

Art rolled over from his position in [Y/N]’s arms to face her nose to nose. “I have. A lot. Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. His arm slotted into the dip of her waist and pulled her closer. “Close ‘em for me. That’s it, that’s it.” He coaxed as she followed his directions.

“I don’t see what this has to do with—“

“Shh, listen,” they both got quiet. Rain pelted against the windows. Wind whistled. Branches cracked and crunched. Thunder boomed. [Y/N] could see the gleam of lightning even behind her eyelids. “Hear it?”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Congrats. Your ears are workin’ best as they can,” Art teased to try and get his fiancé to crack a smile. “Now, which one’s the loudest? Which of the sounds?”

“You breathing.”

“I’m flattered. Which one outside?”

[Y/N] listened. “Right now? The rain, I think.”

“We’re in the clear for now. Let me know when the wind’s louder. Like that real, real crazy whooshing, whistling sound. When it starts whipping like that, we’ll go in the bathroom and lock the doors, yeah? Hell, we can head in now if it would make you feel better?”

“What if I fall asleep before the weather gets worse?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay awake,” Art yawned. “How about I get you up if I notice a disturbance. I gotta take care of my wife, right?”

“I’m not your wife.”

Art sighed. “…I know. I’m just practicing.”

Fortunately, no tornado ever touched down. And Art was still there when [Y/N] woke up.

It always amazed her that Art was still there everyday. For every nasty thing she said to him that she didn’t mean, every argument where she told him Patrick was right, every tennis match won or lost, every natural disaster, every tear shed. Art was there for all of it. He liked the bad moments as much as the good ones because it meant simply more time spent by [Y/N]’s side. He wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.

It was too much power, [Y/N] frequently thought, that she had over Art.

[Y/N] faced Art and brushed his strawberry blonde hair away from his forehead. Art often looked exhausted. He wore his tiredness on his face and shoulders. The exhaustion of constantly chasing, people-pleasing and being a professional athlete could destroy a kid. Art wore it like a Boy Scout badge. [Y/N] could watch him look relaxed forever. It was so rare he looked like that.

“Good morning, guard dog,” [Y/N] whispered. Art stirred. She could tell he was awake even though his eyes were shut due to that crease the reappeared between his eyebrows. It was never not there in his waking moments. Slowly, Art’s hand crept up and gently clutched [Y/N]’s wrist. Art used his grip to slide [Y/N]’s hand down his own drowsy face. He planted a kiss on her palm before tiredly looking at her. “Good morning.” She repeated to him.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” [Y/N] replied. Gray sunlight filtered through the window. “You ready for today?” She smirked.

“What’s today?”

“Patrick’s in town.”

Art dramatically threw his arm over his face and groaned. “I thought he was in tomorrow… Everything was so peaceful… And quiet,” Art mumbled into his elbow. He couldn’t keep a straight face for long and resolved into a soft laugh. “Whose babysitting?” He asked, peering his blue and brown eyes over his arm.

“I’m picking up the cake today, so I figured I could use his strength.”

Art sat up a bit. “You’re getting it today?”

“In the later afternoon, yeah. Why?”

“It’s gonna be, like, stale.”

[Y/N] glanced over at Art. “If we had gotten cupcakes like I wanted, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“You’re such a little jerk.” Art teased.

“Me!” [Y/N] gasped. “It doesn’t even matter because it’s not like you’re gonna eat it anyway because you don’t eat anything.”

“Little jerk!” Art said with his crooked smile widening. He leaned in, slotting an arm over her. “You heard me. You’re a little… troublemaking jerk.” Art’s nose almost pressed against hers.

“Oh yeah? Why are you marrying me then, hm?”

“…You’re pretty,” Art grinned almost timidly, bowing his head. His flat vocal timber sounded like the verbal equivalent of a blush. “Like, really, really pretty. Even if you suck.” Tenderly, Art leaned the rest of the way in to kiss [Y/N]. Once and then twice and then seven times. Maybe fourteen.

And they would have stayed like that all day.

They would have.

BANG BANG BANG.

Like gunshots.

Their lips parted and they held long eye contact. They paused. They sighed.

“Patrick.” They both said.

With a bend of his arms, the full weight of Art’s toned body collapsed on top of [Y/N]’s.

“Pretty baby!”

“No. ‘M pretending he’s not out there,” He laid flat on her, head on her chest. “Can’t go anywhere now.”

BANG BANG BANG on the front door again. Cheese, the couple’s Labrador mix barked at the sound from downstairs.

“Art!”

“Mhm-mm. Nope. Too bad. Sucks for Patrick.”

[Y/N] huffed. “You’re upsetting the dog.”

“He’s upsetting the dog,” Art started to laugh. “He showed up early. I’m just laying here. Hey, hey!” Art jeered as [Y/N] wiggled out from underneath him from backwards. She tried to inch away off the side of the bed. Her shoulders slumped against the carpet, while Art held her legs in place on the bed. [Y/N] dangled in a half on-half off sort of way. Her oversized Stanford t-shirt rolled up during the drama, exposing her breasts to Art. Unashamed, he stared.

[Y/N] twisted her foot into the side of Art’s face, causing a small cry of disgust from him. Just enough chaos for her to slip away. Without hesitation, she tossed the lightweight door open and skittered down the stairs with Art’s long gate keeping pace behind her. His arms reached out in an attempt to grab her. “He’s early! He can wait! He’s never been early in his whole fucking life!” Art laughed. Cheese jumped and barked at the hysteria.

The chase continued until [Y/N]’s hand hit the doorknob and chain. She unlocked it immediately. As [Y/N] ripped the door open, Art’s arm encircled her waist yanking her to the side with the force of his momentum, causing her to laugh with glee.

And on the other side of the door was Patrick Zweig.

Smiling impishly, Patrick took in the disheveled appearances of his two favorite people. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Nice boner.” Patrick smirked at Art, while he pulled [Y/N] into a side hug.

Art didn’t have a boner, or at least a proper one. But the comment was enough to get Art to look. He rolled his eyes and pulled Patrick in for a hug. Cheese ran over to the door for attention, when Art greeted Patrick.

Art closed the door. Patrick ducked down to greet the Labrador too. He liked Cheese, but wouldn’t necessarily choose to be around a dog in his free time the way that Art and [Y/N] did. Cheese really liked Patrick, much to his chagrin, so he pretended to be nice. While Patrick sat on the floor with the animal, he looked up at his best friends. “What’s with the clothes? You just get up?” Art with no shirt in just tube socks and boxers, and [Y/N] in Art’s old college shirt and underwear. They had all seen each other like this so many times growing up that no one particularly cared that the future Donaldsons looked so post coital. It was pretty normal. Patrick’s smirk sliced further across his unwashed face with the ghost of a laugh. “Were you guys fucking?” He said like a horny teenager.

[Y/N] laughed hard and kissed her lifelong best friend on top of the head on her way to make a pot of coffee in the kitchen. “No.” Art sighed in disappointment, flopping onto one of the barstools in the kitchen. This disappointment was either disappointment in Patrick for asking, or disappointment in the lack of sex due to Patrick’s arrival. It was Patrick’s fault either way.

When the dog got bored, Cheese wandered into the kitchen for nonexistent scraps. Patrick pulled up a chair next to Art and dropped his backpack on the floor. “How’s it going, man? You look good. Feeling ready?” He asked, leaning forward to tap Art across his bare knee.

Art nodded as if it say it’s a sure thing. “Thanks. We miss you. We appreciate you being here. It means a lot.”

“I appreciate you being here,” [Y/N] cut in. “Because you’re in my half of the wedding party.” She and Art were always in constant competition over who loved Patrick more. Art wanted him to be his best man. [Y/N] won out, though, having known him since the age of seven and Art only since age twelve.

“Ladies please. Not all at once.” Patrick said. He stood from his chair and wrapped his long arms around [Y/N] in a proper hug finally. Briefly, his chin rested on her head. He stopped before it went on too long.

“Good to see you, kid. How’s it going?” At two months older, [Y/N] had been calling Patrick ‘kid’ diminutively for almost two decades. It was cuter before he got so tall.

“I called you yesterday.” He replied dryly, stepping back to look at her. [Y/N] noted Patrick’s intimately familiar eyes. Too wide, pupils too dilated. Hm. He wore a long sleeved sweater and jeans. And dirty tennis shoes.

“You bring something nicer than this for Saturday?” She teased, pulling on one of his holey sleeves.

Art snorted at Patrick’s expense and cracked a smile. His freckled elbows leaned onto the counter. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here for two seconds, ‘n you’re already giving me tsuris?” Patrick quipped to [Y/N].

“Tsuris… Never thought I’d say it, but you sound like your mom, Patrick.” [Y/N] scoffed. Art snorted a laugh too.

Patrick frowned. “Guess I have to kill myself then.” He joked harshly to more laughter from the other two. M

“Yep. Have some coffee. Both of you. I’m going to put pants on.” [Y/N] turned away and moved to the stairs.

“Aw, do you have to?” Patrick called after her. [Y/N] tossed a middle finger up over her shoulder as she walked away. Art hissed at Patrick’s comment.

“Do you have to flirt with my wife?” Art sneered without malice.

Patrick smiled that boyish small, wicked, unassuming smile. “She’s not your wife yet.” He snapped back. Art smiled at him in return. The two held each other’s gaze adorned with sick grins for a moment before both of them dissolved into laughter. Everything was a competition, but it was only real if they brought it up.

Fast forward a few hours and Patrick and [Y/N] were in the car. Art had taken off for a haircut because his mom thought he looked like a messy little punk and wedding pictures were forever. [Y/N] drove because Patrick drove too fast and without mercy. He had a sports car once when he was in school and still spoke to his parents daily and had notably wrapped it around a telephone pole and walked out without nary a scratch. How’s that for nine lives?

[Y/N] had a sedan.

She and Patrick both held a cigarette out each of their respective windows as she drove.

“You should really quit, y’know.” She told Patrick.

He leaned over and blew smoke in her face. “Yeah, I’ll quit when you do.”

Patrick’s rude gesture didn’t bear acknowledging. “It’s different. You’re an athlete. I watch movies and review them for a living. It’s expected of me. You… you’re making your performance actively worse. You’re kneecapping yourself by choice.” [Y/N] explained.

“I’m good enough to take the hit.”

[Y/N] laughed and took a drag of her cigarette, asking it out the window. “And you’re arrogant enough to make that comment. Sometimes I look at you and you’re still thirteen. I swear to God. It’s fuckin’ funny,” she said. It was quiet for a moment. “Art, though. He doesn’t smoke anymore.”

“I don’t believe you,” Patrick replied immediately with a wild look in his eye. That was apparently a big surprise. “He’s totally lying to you. There’s no way—“

“Nope! Quit on his own too. He just decided he was done with it one day and got all pro-athlete about it.”

“Y-you’re wrong! You’re so wrong. He’s a liar. Last time I was in town, we—“

“No. No fucking way,” [Y/N] shook her head in manic disbelief. “When you came by to—“

“Mhm. Yep. On the patio. You didn’t notice?”

[Y/N] shook her head. “No sense of smell because of… I’m a smoker. I just… He’s such a shit.”

“A shit and a hypocrite!” They both laughed. When the glee dampened naturally and the cigarette butts were pitched out the window, Patrick looked over at [Y/N]. One good, long look. “You ready for Saturday?” Patrick asked because he was a masochist.

[Y/N] found herself often thinking back on this moment. Was this when it had gone wrong beyond repair?

[Y/N] sighed. She would only ever tell Patrick and maybe Art this. “Yes and no.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t say it like that. I have been ready to marry Art since I was, like, seventeen years old. It is unfathomable to me how much love I am capable of giving him, y’know? If he wanted the Mona Lisa, I’d be robbing the Louvre tomorrow. He’s it for me,” she said. Patrick faked a smile very convincingly and nodded for her to go on. “What I’m not looking forward to is everyone I know being in the same room at the same time. I don’t like other people except you and Art. And my editor. That’s about it.”

“You’re not at all worried about spending all that time married to someone?” Patrick tried to jab at her with his words while he scratched his right forearm.

“Not with Art.”

“Wow. That’s awfully grownup of you.”

“Yeah, well. I’m a grownup. With a smokin’ hot fiancé. And he actually cares if I live or die. Isn’t that crazy? My parents weren’t like that with each other. It’s… Am I allowed to say how grateful I am to you for bringing him home for break that one time, or is that stupid?”

“It’s kinda stupid,” he agreed teasingly. In reality, he wanted more than anything to put himself out of his misery. My fault, my fault, my fault. The words looped in Patrick’s head on constant repeat. He wanted to rip his skin off for so many different reasons. He couldn’t take it and he was trapped. Fuck.

Patrick scratched his right forearm again.

“Truth or dare?” Patrick slurred. He was twenty-one and drunk for [Y/N]’s birthday. She, Art and Patrick sat on the disgusting archaic carpet in Art’s dorm room.

“Uh, truth.” [Y/N] said too soberly to sober.

“Boring!” Art said, putting his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh.

Patrick took a long swing of his beer while he thought. “Okay, okay. What’s your weirdest sexual fantasy?” He asked.

“Ew.” [Y/N] wrinkled her nose.

Art thought the question was epic, but wasn’t going to facilitate his girl’s discomfort. “Hey, it’s her birthday, she doesn’t have to—“

“Um, no. I’ll do it. This is an actual dream I had. I think about it kinda all the time. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud. It so dumb. So, it’s Art and I’m sitting at the kitchen table with coffee or something. And Art… sings me Happy Birthday like Marilyn Monroe did for JFK. And he’s dressed like Marilyn, but like a boy. No dress, but like the boy version of that look. Then we fuck. That’s weirder than you wanted. That was weird, right?” [Y/N] rambled.

Art leaned in closer to her. They were all drunk as skunks and he couldn’t help bite his lip. His arm pulled her closer to him. Art was handsy when drunk, they were all learning.

“Whose Jackie O?” Patrick asked.

“No Jackie O. And I’m not JFK. He’s just Marilyn. Gentlewomen prefer blondes.” [Y/N] had laughed so hard at that while she tangled her fingers in Art’s sandy hair.

The car ride to get cake and the drive back was the last proper conversation [Y/N] and Patrick had. The pair got home. Nothing seemed unusual to [Y/N] at all. They talked the whole time without any dry spells. The cake, in pieces to be assembled, was carefully toted in and placed way out of the way from disaster. Patrick took his bag to the bathroom, claiming he was going to shower.

[Y/N] shouted after him. “You know where the towels are!”

Patrick looked back over his shoulder at her with a smirk and closed the bathroom door behind him.

And he went out through the bathroom window.

[Y/N] had no idea he had gone until she heard his car start. For a minute, she thought it was the neighbors. She walked halfway down her hallway and saw the bathroom door open. No running shower water, no half nude Patrick shaving or something. She ran back down the hall and glanced out the kitchen window and watched his new white SUV whip out of the driveway.

[Y/N] stood there for several minutes. Staring and staring and staring after him. Not a single effort to move. The first thing she did was pick up her blue slidephone from beside the sink. She called Art, not Patrick. Patrick made his choice.

[Y/N] hadn’t realized she was crying when Art picked up on the other line.

“Honey? Honey, you there? You buttdial me?” Art said. [Y/N] thinks he said shit like that for several moments before she spoke. She just faced the window and stared for what felt like ages.

“Patrick’s gone.”

“Hm?”

“Patrick’s gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone.”

“He climbed through the bathroom window and drove off. We-we didn’t have a fight. Or-or… He just left. Like it was nothing.”

“I’m on my way. Stay where you are.”

Art rushed back in his blue-black jeep wrangler. It ripped into the smooth driveway causing the tires to damn near squeal. When he got out of his car and bounded to the door, it was clear that about half of his hair had been cut instead of all of it. [Y/N] would have laughed in an ideal situation.

“Baby, hey, what happened?” Art said breathlessly as he unlocked the door. [Y/N] sat at the seldom used dining room table the two of them used to hold their junk mail, sitting straight up and looking through Art. Art was alarmed. She never sat at the table and rarely was her face so expressionless. She was always feeling, expressing, something. He couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, but her eyes were red.

“Patrick seems to have decided not to join us this weekend.” [Y/N] said clearly.

Art closed up the door behind him and walked over to [Y/N]. His scraggly hair and bewildered expression lessened into some devastated softness. He knelt, as he often did, in front of her and took her softer hands in his. “Can you tell me what happened?” Art asked quietly. He felt angry tears sting at the corner of his own traitorous eyes.

“We went out, got the cake, got smoothies, and came back. We… He didn’t say anything weird. Nothing happened.”

“Okay. And then?”

“No, I mean, nothing happened. Like, he was on his best behavior. Like, he was doing so well. He seemed okay. Really okay, y’know?” [Y/N]’s voice broke and finally betrayed her. She choked on her last words and the tears followed. Art’s right hand traveled up the side of [Y/N] face to rest there in comfort. “We talked about everything, like always. He was totally fine. I swear. Then we got home and he says I’m gonna take a shower, or something. And then I heard his car pull away. That’s it.”

“I’m gonna fucking murder him.” Art said, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. He stood from the floor and pulled his own phone out of his pocket. Art leaned against the table [Y/N] sat at. He called Patrick. Then he called him again. And another time. Up to what felt like twelve times or so. He left voicemail after voicemail.

“Hey, call me.”

“Hey, it’s Art. Call me.”

“Art again. Call me back. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry about the last one. Patrick, call me. Are you coming home?”

“Hey, man. Fuck you. Fuck off.”

“I’m sorry about the last one too. I’m… Understandably, I’m kinda… Fucking pissed at you. I don’t need to talk to you like that, though. Are you okay? Are you safe? What happened? You can talk to me.”

“You’re an asshole. I wish you could see the look on [Y/N]’s face right now.”

“Don’t come back.”

Eventually, the voicemail box was full.

[Y/N] reached wordlessly for Art’s hand. She could feel his rare anger climbing. He got this ridiculous blush across his cheeks when he got angry and she could see it against the sunset’s glow. “Art?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened,” He said, turning his eyes to her. “I’m so sorry, hon.”

“It’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize, pretty baby.”

“Yeah, but he’s my best friend. He’s your best friend,” He ranted. “That was a dick move to leave like that. I’m sorry that happened to you. He’s a piece of shit.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No! I do. I do mean that. For the last year, he’s treated us, especially you like trash. Do you not see how much more you deserve, [Y/N]? I don’t know what’s going on with him… Do you?”

“He’s…” [Y/N] looked down. “You think he’s using again?”

Art didn’t say anything, he just looked down. That was answer enough. [Y/N] buried her face in her hands with a shuddering sob. Art pulled her to her feet and into his chest. He buried his face in her hair, unable to hold his own tears back. Eventually, the pair landed on the sagging green couch. Art’s legs wrapped around [Y/N]’s middle. They kept the news on all night. In case he matched an accident description. They called hospitals and hunted for John Does that were over six feet with dark hair and stubble.

“What are we gonna do? He’s… He’s not coming back, is he?” [Y/N] whispered. Cheese rested his heavy beige head on her thigh. He obviously didn’t understand why Patrick had gone either.

“No, I don’t think he is,” Art replied, lips against her forehead. “I’m sorry.

Pathetically, [Y/N] raised her head to Art. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything.” He said. [Y/N] forced Art to lean back against the couch and she laid her head on his chest. Cheese circled for a new position where he could be touching them both at the same time.

[Y/N] knew it was a little bit her fault. She leaned up and kissed Art on the corner of his lips. “It’s my fault.”

“Then it’s both of our faults. You can’t talk about yourself like that. You’re the only you I’ve got, babe.” Art huffed tiredly.

[Y/N] dug her hands into Art’s hair the way he liked. “Can I fix your haircut? Haircut’s a generous way to describe it.”

“Damn, I was actually trying out this new thing. You don’t think it’s cool?”

“Yeah, it’s big for guys who blindly answer their wife’s phone calls, I hear.” [Y/N] said weakly.

Wife was all Art heard and he melted.

“I have never known someone I love as much as you,” Art said. “I’m all in with you. You know that, right?”

“‘Course I do.” [Y/N] did know. She sunk her teeth into the freckled skin on Art’s right shoulder gently and he moaned. Over top of the spot, [Y/N] left a trail of kisses down Art’s bicep.

“I’m gonna call his mom.” He said once [Y/N]’s pace had slowed. Art’s stomach growled. When he got upset, he didn’t eat. [Y/N] told herself it was because he had forgotten to in stressful moments, but wondered if it was a punishment instead. She pretending she hadn’t heard the sound.

“They don’t talk.”

“I know. Just in case he turns up.”

Patrick did turn up. About ten hours later, wet and unconscious in the emergency room. Following a psych eval, Patrick went to a short stint in rehab. He had gone once prior at the age of twenty. Needless to say Patrick missed the wedding. It was too much money to up and cancel, according to Art’s piece of shit stepfather, Douglas. Patrick made no efforts to contact the Donaldsons since leaving, as he left or following rehab. Despite all of Art and [Y/N]’s tireless efforts to find him, all they had to show for it was his disconnected phone number and a crippling feeling of shame and loss. Patrick had vanished from their lives without giving either one of them a say.

Patrick was gone.

But Art was there for all of it.

TAGLIST:

@toxiclovergirl @basicallynotbreathing @miniemonie2001 @valentine333 @tremendoushorsepeachbanana-blog @athxnss @babyspice6 @diorrfairy @donaldsonsdarling @muthafuckingstargirl @avylanchce @shysstuff @soberbabes @ysuftmikey @pussy-f41ry

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #sorry series #challengers movie #challengers #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig

[headkiss]

hellooo for the summer asks I was wondering about our boy Eddie and going to the beach with him and feeling insecure about our body, but ofc he’s a sweetie so he makes us feel better 🥹 just some hurt/comfort my love 🫶

thank u so so much for ur request baby!!! ily i hope this is okay <3 | 0.8k of fluff, tw for problems with body image

The sun beams harshly on your shoulders from your spot on the sand, a towel serving as the only cushion beneath you, eyes squinted behind your sunglasses.

In a rare instance, the group’s schedules have all lined up and given you the same day off, and immediately, that meant packing up Eddie’s van full to the brim with coolers and towels and more people than seats and driving to the beach.

The drive had been a blast, Steve and Eddie arguing steadily over what music to play, Robin egging them on even though she’d dance along to anything. Eddie’s hand had been a comforting weight on your thigh the entire ride.

Now, hours of sun and swims later, hair messy from the wind and water, cooler much emptier than it had been earlier, you’re watching the gang play volleyball (you say this loosely, because there’s no net nor is there an established court).

It’s fun, to be a part of a group of friends this way, to watch such an uncoordinated game where everyone is smiling and having fun despite there being competition involved.

You’re having fun, too, laughing every time Eddie trips or winks at you and says “this one’s for you” before hitting the ball in a random direction. Then, there’s the way Steve calls “mine!” every time the ball comes anywhere near his side of the ‘court,’ even when Robin was even closer, prompting them to start bickering.

So really, it should be all light and easy. A relaxing day at the beach with your favorite people. And it is, until it isn’t.

One second, you’d been smiling at the game, shifting your sunglasses off of your eyes and using them as some sort of headband instead. The next, your eyes were wandering around the beach and noticing everyone else.

Noticing the way the other people around looked. Girls brilliantly tanned in their triangle bikinis, denim shorts fitting them perfectly. Or the guys in their swim trunks and how carefree they look.

You can’t help but see everything they are that you aren’t. Or, that you don’t believe you are.

Things like this creep up on you in funny ways. Like a chill that just passes through, sudden and unavoidable. A simple thought snowballing into a hundred small ones shaped like arrows aiming towards yourself.

You shift to cross your arms over the soft of your exposed stomach, suddenly wishing you’d brought more than a tank top to cover up with.

Eddie snaps you out of your thoughts with a call of “you sure you don’t wanna join, sweetheart?”

You muster a halfhearted smile as you shake your head. “I’m okay.”

The two words are enough to tell Eddie that you aren’t exactly okay at the moment. Your smile not reaching your eyes the way it should, that line between your eyebrows worried the way it shouldn’t.

When you aren’t looking, he signals Argyle over to take his spot in the game and jogs over to you, sitting down next to you and nudging your shoulder with his. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Eds. You didn’t have to stop playing,” you say, though you can't deny that the warmth of his arm brushing yours feels nice.

“Hey, look at me,” he urges you gently, his knuckles catching your chin to nudge your face up to his. “It’s just me. You can say it.”

“It’s silly,” you shrug. Eddie pins you with a look that says ‘try me,’ and because he’s the sweet boyfriend he is and because you trust him and love him, you do. “I just- I looked around and just noticed all these people and the way they look and I’m not-”

“Sweetheart,” he stops you, his voice painfully soft. His brown eyes even more so, shining in the late afternoon sun. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m not just sayin’ that. I mean, you’ve seen the boners you give me, so…”

“Eddie,” you scrunch your nose and slap his chest lightly, though you’re fighting back a smile.

“I’m serious. Look at me compared to these people, babe. I look different, too. I’m not ripped or anything, and I’m pale as fuck. Like, ghost-level.”

You look at him, the frizzy curls framing his face and the curve of his cupid’s bow, to the tattoos dotting his skin and how his abs are just barely visible beneath the soft of his tummy. The way his cheeks and chest are a little pink from the sun. He’s perfect to you. For you.

“I think you’re pretty, Eds.”

“Well I think you’re fucking pretty, too, sweetheart. That’s my point,” his arm slings itself around your shoulders, tugging you into his side, uncaring of the heat or whether or not you’re sweaty. “Different doesn’t mean bad. It just means different. And I love you and your different, okay?”

You like the way he says it, like it’s a fact, like he’s never once thought otherwise. You like the way he trails his fingertips up and down your arm, too, like it’s an instinct.

And, well, when he dips down to kiss you all sweet and slow and sure, you think it’s the prettiest you’ve ever felt.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson request #eddie munson requests #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson blurb #eddie blurb #eddie blurbs #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson hurt/comfort #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things eddie

[amongemeraldclouds]

make me

Minimal plot, just smut. You’re welcome.

When your rival grabs the potion ingredient that was meant for you, you’re willing to do what it takes to get it back.

Theodore Nott x f!Reader

Warning: 18+ MDNI, piv, unprotected sex, oral (m!receiving), v!fingering, degradation, praise, hate sex, characters are aged up.

✿ Masterlist | 2k words

You scan the near empty classroom as footsteps shuffle outside the hall. Your eyes narrow when you see Theodore Nott, your rival. He has been the bane of your existence ever since you got the top marks in your third year and effectively kicked his ranking down to number two.

It’s his rightful place you thought, but he sorely disagreed. Despite the devil may care attitude he’s known for, you know very well he can’t stand the idea that someone could be better and smarter than him. Well tough luck. You weren’t going to back down either.

He’s holding two vials of the potion ingredient you need. “The professor said one vial of Agrippa for each student!” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Ah you never know,” he sighs, holding the vial out in front of you. Taunting you. “I may get careless and accidentally drop one. Then I’ll have backup.”

“And what about me? You took mine, you tosser,” you huff.

“Did I now?” He says, looking confused as he continues to play with your vial. “Don’t see your name here though.” You fantasize reaching over and punching that smug expression off his face.  

You cross your arms instead, willing yourself to stay in control of your emotions. “Tsk tsk Theo. Never thought you’d have to stoop so low. Then again, it is you,” you roam your eyes over him from head to toe in disdain, shaking your head in disappointment. He’s absolutely gorgeous but you’ll never admit it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, trying to mask his discomfort.

“You’re just insecure you’ll never beat me if you played fair. Poor Theo,” you reach up, trying to pat his head patronizingly. Instead he grabs your outstretched arm and looks down at you, leaning closer.

“I’m not,” he protests.

You shrug nonchalantly, trying to ignore his electric proximity, how beautiful he looks up close, your breaths sync together and noticeably more shallow. It will only take one small move for your lips to meet. “Could have fooled me. Give me the Agrippa and I’ll let you go.”

“I’m the one holding your arm,” he lifts an eyebrow, trying to assert his control over you.

“Then let me go,” you shoot back.

“Make me,” he challenges.

So you take that one small move, closing the distance between you and kissing him. His grip on your arm softens as he freezes in shock. You take this opportunity to yank your arm free, your mouth still on his. Just as you reach for the vial, he pulls you closer instead and wraps his arms around you, caging you in. Deepening the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding on for support.

Unwilling to lose against you, he kisses you back. It’s a clash of teeth and tongue, lips swelling with all the insults and comebacks you could throw at each other. Instead you say it in the way you suck his bottom lip hard enough to bruise. He counters with his tongue aggressively exploring your mouth.

You argue with the moans that escape your throat and his overwhelming need to devour you leads his mouth down your neck, trailing kisses and gently biting your soft flesh. Your head instinctively rolls back, giving him more access because as much as you hate him, you can’t deny just how good this feels.

Bodies pressed against each other, you feel his hard length twitch against you and can’t suppress the chuckle that escapes your lips. Before you can say something, your eye catches the vial he left on the table behind him. You reach out your hand and try to grab it again, but Theo catches on fast enough to turn both of you around in the opposite direction and place you on the desk.

“Not so fast,” he says panting as he stares at you, reflecting the lust in your eyes. “Make me cum and I’ll give you the Agrippa vial, fair and square just like you wanted.”

You scoff, “how is it fair?” He brings his lips close to your ear and says in a low voice, “because I also want you to cum for me, principessa.”

Fuck. Your breath catches in your throat.

Theo continues, “what? Afraid you can’t take me there?”

“Oh, I’m not the one you should worry about,” you retort, moving your hands to your blouse and unbuttoning it. 

Theo just smirks and helps with the last few buttons, he opens your blouse and takes a moment to stare at your breasts. “I’d say you’re beautiful, but you probably know that already,” he comments as he unclasps your bra and kisses your breasts gently. It’s so sweet and tender that for a moment you forget he’s your rival.

“Never hurts to hear it anyway,” you reply, trying not to shiver with just how sensitive and vulnerable you feel.

He smiles up at you while his hand continues exploring your breasts, squeezing and teasing, rolling your nipple in between his thumb and index finger. “You’re wonderful, Bella.”

You have to remind yourself you hate him despite your legs wrapped around him and your panties soaked for him. Then it didn’t matter as all thoughts left your mind when he runs his tongue across your nipple while he snakes his arm underneath your skirt, softly caressing your thighs.

He hums appreciatively when he feels just how wet you are. “Everyone thinks you’re such a good girl, but who would have known you’re such a slut.” You whimper at his words, too turned on and embarrassed to speak.

He makes quick work of slipping off your underwear as he explores your folds, spreading your slick all over, making sure to circle his thumb across your clit a few times. Desperate moans leave your lips, and he listens attentively, going back over the sensitive spots that made you louder.

He puts his hand on your mouth, silencing you. “Sshh wouldn’t want everyone to know just how much of a whore you are,” he says as he plunges two fingers into you, and you squirm against him in surprise.

He chuckles as he pumps his fingers in and out, building pressure in the base of your stomach. “So needy, I bet you like touching your cunt too, huh? Such a dirty little slut when no one’s looking.” His voice rumbles deep in his throat and you feel your arousal drip all over his hand.

You clench against his fingers as they curl against you, hitting your g spot, coaxing strings of curses out of you. As he continues to relentlessly thrust his fingers into your dripping cunt, he sucks on your ear lobe and you shudder against him. Everything feels so good, it’s almost too much until he rubs his finger against your clit and light bursts behind your eyes.

You find yourself writhing against him as wave after wave of ecstasy overtakes you. He brushes lazy kisses on your neck, guiding you through your climax and bringing you back down. Panting, you gaze at him through hazy eyes, “not bad, Theo.”

“Come on, don’t forget your end of the bargain,” he commands.

“Oh, I would never,” you smirk and lift yourself up from the table, getting down on your knees. He grunts, removing his belt and zipping down his trousers. You help him free his hard length and you take his cock with your hand, stroking it.

You stare up at Theo through your eyelashes, “is this what you always wanted? I bet you’ve thought about stuffing your cock down my throat, shutting me up. Can’t handle that I’m better than you? Smarter than you?”

Infuriated by your words, he fists his hand through your hair and removes your hand, shoving his cock in your mouth. You take him in, amazed by just how thick he is. “Yeah, that shut you up. Huh, bitch? Always talking about how much you’re better than me,” he taunts, thrusting in and out of your mouth, drool spilling down your chin.

“You’re just a pathetic slut, taking my cock so well. Look at you kneeling for me.” He holds your head in place, his grip tight on your hair as he continues thrusting into your mouth hard enough to make your eyes water. You can’t help the liquid heat pooling in your cunt and you squeeze your thighs together to get some relief from the aching need to have him inside you.

Theo notices you squirming and pulls out of your mouth, giving you a second to recover your breath. “Seems the hungry slut wants more, huh?” He says, running his thumb across your puffy lips.

He grips your arm and supports you as you stand up. He brushes your hair away from your face and gives you a gentle kiss on your lips, “you’re doing so well, principessa.” Before the words can sink in, he’s already turning you away from him and bending you over the table as you support yourself with your arms.

He places one of his hand beside yours as the other reaches up to squeeze your breast. He feels so warm and electric against you, you can feel the shortness in his breath in anticipation.

He rubs his cock against your slit, teasing and coating his tip with your arousal. You remind yourself to breathe as you imagine just how good he will feel inside you. With one quick thrust, he enters you and you cry out. “Don’t worry, we’ll start slow,” he says as he moves gently, giving you time to adjust against his big, hard length. 

You whimper but don’t want his already inflated ego to grow further so you say, “is that all you got?”

You should have braced for yourself when you said those words as he snickers, “oh you’re going to regret that.” He shoves himself back into you and you feel him bottom out. Salazar, he is stretching you so well.

Desperate, filthy moans escape your lips as he continues ramming himself into you, your mind lost in a haze of pleasure as the delicious friction sets your body on fire. “Not so much better than me now, huh?” He taunts, grabbing your hair and pulling your head back so he can look into your eyes while he fucks you mercilessly. “That’s right, look at me while I shove my cock inside your slippery wet cunt. Fuck, so needy.” You whimper against him, too cock drunk to speak.

“Take it all,” he says, punctuating each word with a deep, hard thrust. Your pussy growing more and more sensitive with each movement. You feel the euphoric pressure building in the base of your stomach once again as you grip onto the table, wood splintering into your skin as try to hold it together.

“Fuck, so desperate for my cock. Tell me you like it or I’ll stop,” he taunts as he feels you grow tighter against him, nearing your release. Your mind can barely keep up, but you sober quite quickly when he stops. “No, please,” you whisper.

“Please what?” Theo asks, looking into your eyes.

“Please fuck me, I love having your cock inside me,” you say, too eager to care about your rivalry.

“Good girl,” he praises as he continues his fast, persistent pace. “I bet you always fantasized having my cock buried inside you, huh? Think you’re so much better than me when all you are is a dirty little slut.”

You cry out and his words send you writhing against him again. Your walls clench around him over and over as euphoric waves overtake your senses. He continues his relentless pace, riding out your climax until you feel his warm release inside you. 

He wraps his arms around you as you both recover your breath. “You were so good principessa,” he whispers.

“Listen because I’ll only say this once,” you start and turn yourself. Theo releases you from the embrace so you can face him, “you were amazing.” You smile at him and for a moment, you can almost see yourselves as something other than rivals. Almost.

You grab your clothes and start putting them back on, the spell of the moment over. “You better not tell anyone about this,” Theo warns, trying to brush off the warmth in his chest. 

“And ruin my reputation? No thanks,” You rush over everything, buttoning your blouse as fast as you can. You smirk when you finish before Theo and grab both Agrippa vials, making a run for it.

“Hey!” Theo calls out as he rushes putting his belt back on.

“Guess you’ll just have to come find me,” you shrug, leaving him alone in the classroom. You’ll be seeing him again soon enough anyway.

✿ Masterlist

#theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott #theodore nott x y/n #theo x reader #slytherin boys #harry potter fanfiction #amongemeraldcloudswrites #amongemeraldclouds smut

[lesbians4lottienat]

Jealous, Much?

Nat doesn’t appreciate the way Misty looks at her girlfriend. The only problem? Nat hasn’t exactly called you her girlfriend yet.

fem!reader (she/her pronouns used and reader is referred to as a girl), reader is a team assistant like misty, nat is mean to misty because she’s jealous lol

Nat stood on the field, dribbling the ball absentmindedly between her feet. Surprisingly, she was the first to arrive, although it wasn’t much of a surprise to her. She had been doing this for about a week, albeit with ulterior motives. Simply put, she wanted to spend time with you before the rest of the team got there, and she actually had to play. If that meant she had to show up to practice early and, in general, so be it.

However, you were too busy with Misty setting up a water cooler and warm-up equipment for the team. Nat saw Misty say something, causing you to laugh. Misty beamed up at you while Nat gritted her teeth. It probably wasn’t even funny, she thought, but she’s too nice not to laugh.

“What’s up with you?”

Nat startled, snapping her neck in the direction of the voice. Oh. It was Jackie. Of course, the team captain would be there early. Shauna must’ve driven them there.

“Nothin’, just thinking,” Nat said with a roll of her eyes. She wasn’t in the mood for Jackie’s snooping right now. The brunette raised an eyebrow at this before following Nat’s gaze over to the two girls, now joined by Shauna. She sighed before speaking again.

“I know you’re at least nice to one of them, but you should lighten up on Misty! She’s not…that bad.”

Panic surged in Nat’s stomach before she realized what Jackie meant. She wasn’t accusing Nat of liking you; she was accusing her of finding Misty annoying.

“Whatever,” she mumbled, passing the ball to Jackie, whose brow furrowed in concern at the blonde's lack of bite in her words.

The rest of the team arrived at the soccer field one by one. They performed their usual warm-ups before playing a practice game. The entire time, however, Nat was distracted. She wasn’t performing well, and everyone could tell something was wrong. Hopefully, they didn’t notice that she faltered every time Misty grabbed a hold of your arm or brushed hands with you.

Eventually, Coach Scott pulled her aside and asked if she was alright. She hated how he looked at her and the way they all looked at her. She hated feeling weak.

After a few more easy shots were missed, her coaches and teammates suggested she take a breather. It was annoying. What was even more annoying, though, was the way Misty looked at you—so full of love and adoration. It made Nat sick to her stomach.

“God, Misty, can you keep it in your pants? Some of us are trying to focus here!”

Misty’s face flushed a bright red. Nat huffed at the confused looks before storming off in the direction of the locker room.

She stomped inside, slamming her locker open and pulling her jersey over her head. She began changing into her regular clothes but paused when she heard a familiar voice.

“What the hell was that?”

It was you. Of-fucking-course.

“Why do you even care?” she seethed, refusing to look in your direction. She resumed changing and angrily threw her uniform into the locker.

“Because you confused the hell out of everyone? And because you almost made Misty cry? And because you won’t even look at me?”

Part of her was happy to know she had almost made Misty cry, but the other part swirled hatefully in her gut at the concerned tone of your voice when recounting the event. She hated it. Hated how nice you were to Misty.

There was an awkward pause as Nat gathered her things until, eventually, you spoke again.

“Nat, come on. Talk to me?”

Nat hated you. She hated your stupidly affectionate, concerned voice and how well it worked on her.

“She was clearly flirting with you!”

“…what?”

“What,” she starts, “Were you just going to let her feel you up like that?”

You stared at Nat, utterly confused, before it clicked.

“Oh my god. Are you fucking jealous, Scatorccio?”

Nat’s nostrils flared, and her cheeks flushed. She quickly walked towards you, trapping you in the corner of the room. She glared, opening her mouth to speak, but you promptly cut her off.

“You have no right to be acting like this, you asshole! You don’t even want me!”

…what?

She must’ve verbalized her confusion as you seemingly grew angrier.

“You kiss me at Jackie’s party, then you avoid me for a week. You flirt with me early before everyone gets here, then act like I don’t exist. You’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t like me like that, but now, you’re acting like I’m taken?”

Nat freezes. She glowers up at you, her lip trembling. You stare back, visibly upset. Then, she pulls on your jacket, smashing her lips against your own. You let out a muffled noise of surprise before kissing back, wrapping your arms around Nat’s neck while Nat’s hands land on your hips.

Eventually, you two pull away, breathless. Nat speaks first.

“You’re mine, okay?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“That’s a terrible way to ask me to be your girlfriend.”

Nat stiffens. She’s…new to this. She’s never really labeled a relationship like this with a girl. But, judging by how it makes her heart flutter, she wouldn’t mind calling you her girlfriend.

“S-sorry,” you stutter, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, or, like-“

“Shut up and kiss me.”

#yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio x reader #rosie’s writing 🐝 #this is one of my first times posting my writing so please be nice #:’D

[thebiggerbear]

"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

[geckoomoria]

friends to lovers trope w jj, but its the type of love where they both dont know that theyre both in love with eachother and they just casually flirt w eachother, but their friends r always like 👀 whenever they flirt or when jj like helps her or whatever, also everytime jj does something for reader, she always blushes but tries to hide it (going thru this shit rn 😃😅)

I love u for asking this omg.

i wanna add that they both deny it a lot and they just wont admit it to themselves.

this ones a bit long…

i hope this lives up to ur standards 😪

Just friends - Jj Maybank x reader

————————————-★————————————-

Saturday August 17th

9:00pm

YOU HAD JUST ARRIVED at a local beach party , looking around to find anyone you recognized.

yelling out an occasional “sorry!!” or “excuse me!” as you pushed past the main entrance of the beach house to get to the living room.

the house was so crowded you barley knew if you were headed in the right direction. As you backed up to let someone pass by you, you bumped into someone from behind.

“i am so sorr- oh Jj.” is what you said as you turned to apologize to the person that happened to be Jj maybank.

The scowl on the blondes face quickly reverted as he realized you were the one who bumped into him , a grin and opened eyes had appeared instead.

“ah so if its me you wont say sorry” he said while looking you up and down taking in your appearance. black denim shorts , long black thin socks that stopped mid thigh and a fitted dark red short sleeve top that had a sweetheart neckline.

to put it in short terms , you looked hot as fuck.

you find the corners of your lips turning as he spoke , it wasn’t uncommon for you and Jj to shamelessly flirt like this. Everyone could see you had a thing for each-other but both denied and claimed to be “just good friends”.

“well Maybank , i guess that says something about you” you responded still looking at the grinning boy.

“you wound me sweetheart” he said while dramatically placing a hand over his heart and acted as if he was in pain. You could feel the blush creeping onto your face.

“i try as much as i can darling” the words rolled off your lips as you kept up with his flirty game

The two of you stand still amongst the crowd of partiers as you stare into each others eyes, the sudden silent tension engulfing you two.

Abruptly it was broken as a pair of thin arms threw themselves over your neck , it was Kiara. “Y/n! i was looking all over for you, pope thought you weren’t coming” she claimed as she rolled her eyes at another mutual friend of yours , Pope.

“i didn’t say she wasn’t coming , i said i dont think she was coming on TIME.” Pope corrected back quite sassily as he gave you a side hug himself.

Jjs eyes had been kept on you the entire time, he didn’t even want to look away for a second.

“yeah yeah but still you doubted her and it wouldn’t be a party without Y/n ,right jj? kiara stated as the two pogues looked at their blonde headed friend. He was silent , still staring at you. His attention was only brought back when your eyes met his again.

“y-yeah wouldn’t be a party without ya” He said finally looking away for a second and looking back. The other two didn’t miss his reaction. You all walked over to where the drinks were kept and needless to say everyone was DRUNK. You all decided to sit outside on the steps.

15 minutes later

“hey wheres John B?” you question about the missing pogue from the friend group , “said he had to work for ward tonight but we all know what that means” Kiara answers before taking a sip of her beer.

You raise an eyebrow letting them know that you in fact didn’t know what it meant. “means he’s getting it on with the Kook queen , Babe ” Jj replies.

Pope and Kiara groan in disgust as your eyes widen at his words. “Wait what?! he actually has a thing going on with Sarah Cameron? Sarah Cameron who you hate” you say pointing at Kiara, “and who’s brother hates you?!” you say pointing at Jj.

“Damn straight” Kiara spits out, “Yes Ma’am” Jj replies before taking a chug of his drink, its clear none of them really liked the idea of him being with a Kook, Sarah Cameron of all people.

“God i told him to-“ Kiara’s rambling was cut off in your head as Jjs legs brushed against yours , feeling his body heat. It should have felt like nothing , friends are okay with being touchy right?

But you couldn’t ignore it as neither one of you moved your legs, what was this weird feeling inside of you?

You glance at his face only for him to be looking at you first , a stare across both your faces. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Pope who’s sitting on the steps above you two.

“Uh Kie im gonna grab another drink , you coming?” He cuts off her rambling about John B and Sarah in hopes of leaving you and Jj together.

Shes too drunk to notice whats going on so she mindlessly agrees and gets up to grab another bottle, leaving you and Jj alone on the steps.

Silence is the only thing between you two right now , absolutely no space. Arm to arm , leg to leg and shoulder to shoulder.

minutes goes by before Jj starts to laugh a bit, “whats so funny?” you ask curiously.

“i was just thinkin”

“about?”

he takes a sigh before answering “remember that time we didn’t talk for three whole days cause of the spider?”. You don’t remember at first but eventually the memory sparks back. “Oh Sally.” you say bitterly.

“you gave it a name???”

“uhm SHE lived with me for a week i think SHE deserved a name!” you sternly say emphasizing the she in your sentence.

you could feel the atmosphere’s tensions rising as you started to argue in a petty manner.

“you got so mad at me when i accidentally stepped on her”

“you killed my roommate Maybank , what was i supposed to do!”

“IT WAS A SPIDER!” , “SHE WAS A SPIDER , SHE”

you two had pointless arguments for no reason all the time to go along with all the flirting.

you huff as tick marks appear on your forehead and the same happened with Jj. The silence once again appeared after your loud voices went quiet.

“didn’t even pay for her funeral asshole” you mutter under your breath as you take another sip of your drink. You look at Jj and the two of you shared a silent look that lasted for a second.

You both burst out laughing, unable to catch your breaths, eventually after a few moments it dies down , “you’re something else princess” He says , chuckles still underlying his voice.

Him calling you suggestive nicknames was normal but lately its been feeling more than just a silly nickname.

“yeah well only you would know” you reply resting your chin under your palm and turning your head to face him. “thats right , papa j knows ya best” Jj says with some sense of pride puffing his chest.

“ugh y’know everytime you call yourself that , a little piece of me dies on the inside” you groan and roll your eyes at the stupid nickname Jj set for himself.

He starts laughing again at your words , you gave him a sense of comfort he’s never been familiar with.

He found himself constantly yearning for your presence and in moments of joy , he knew the only thing to make it better was if you were there.

Jjs tried convincing himself that it was normal to think of friends constantly and that its just his impulsive thoughts that thought of you in that way.

but the more he denied it to both others and himself , the more he craved you.

At the same time you felt similar things , thinking you were weird for even viewing your close friend like that. That he was just like that to everyone and that it was your head just spinning the truth.

But every-time you denied and brushed off the dating rumours , deep down you felt a twinge at the heart when you remembered they weren’t true.

Unconsciously shifting closer, your faces are inches from each-other. His eyes glued to your lips , the two of you reek of alcohol and the tensions never been higher.

Your heart beats rapidly as he moves in to attempt to kiss you but thats all it remained.

An attempt.

The moment was unexpectedly stopped as Pope burst through the door from above, stopping the two of you from what was about to happen.

“Guys Kie is like out of her mind drunk and she tried beating up her own reflection in the mirror so i think its time to go home” he says with a drunk Kiara slung over his shoulder not even realizing what he interrupted.

The blush on your face is replaced with a similar tone of red out of embarrassment, you get up not even looking at Jj to help Pope with Kiara.

“God that did not just happen” you think repeatedly

The car ride was just awkward silence as Pope who was the most sober at the moment drove to John Bs place since no one could scold your intoxicated selves there.

You avoid Jj like the plague when breaking in entering John Bs house , placing Kiara on the spare bed , Pope on the couch , you sleeping beside Kiara and Jj on a old recliner chair.

After voicing a Goodnight to Pope , you can’t find the courage to say anything to Jj as he sits there deep in thought. You wanted to say something, anything to change the weird feeling between you two but nothing would come out of your mouth.

You just lay beside Kiara’s sleeping figure in the dark, unable to sleep after tonight.

To be continued…

————————————-★————————————-

wow that was long , I LOVED THIS REQUEST AND LIKE PLS GIVE ME MORE GUYS. ABOUT MORE CHARACTERS IN OTHER SHOWS/ MOVIES

if u liked this pls lemme know so i can start on part 2.

i love gaining mutuals guys cmon 😓

hes so hot omfg

#girlblogging #fanfic #just girly things #obx x reader #obx fic #obx imagine #obx jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #fypツ #fypシ #fypage #outerbanks fanfiction #rafe obx #outer banks #jj mayback x reader

[where-is-vivian]

Starchaser band au

Any trope or type

Maybe like them being rival bands but they are in a secret relationship and write and sing songs about eachother at their shows

Also maybe the media could find out about it because of the songs or something idk

gotcha.

JEGULUS. 623 words. RIVAL BANDS. AWARD SHOW.

"And the winner is... Regulus Black!"

Everyone was clapping. The entire room was suddenly plunged in the loud maelstrom of noise caused by the announcement. People stood up. James stood up too. He had been nominated in the best songwriter of the year category too, but he stood up.

The camera zoomed on his face; he knew cameras were on him, but he ignored them. He played it nonchalantly, standing up slowly, clapping like a fair loser, a little polite smirk at the corner of his lips. Truth was, he wanted to grin fully, to meet Regulus' eyes. Unfortunately, the latter had been sitting in the back, and James' assigned seat was front row.

Regulus walked up to the stage. Shook a few hands. Adjusted the microphone.

"Thank you. Thank you everyone. I am beyond grateful to be able to stand here in front of you today. If it wasn't for Evan telling me, four years ago, that I could write our bands songs, for trusting me with such an important part of our albums, I would never have gotten this opportunity."

He let out a chuckle, and waved somewhere in the crowd. James guessed he was waving at Evan, and at the rest of the Green Roses, Barty and Dorcas.

Sirius, next to James, elbowed him.

"He's being a bit arrogant, isn't he?"

James smiled downwardly, shrugging at his friend.

"You're not too upset he won instead of you? I know you two had this rivalry. I mean, our band won best performance, but..."

"No, I'm good," James soberly answered, eyes still fixed attentively on Regulus. His stylist had done his aura justice, tonight. James, at this point was not really listening anymore. He was instead drooling, in his seat front row, eyeing the man up and down in his lace top and his pretty pants showing off his ass. He only wanted one thing. Regulus for look at him. His prayers must have been heard somewhere because Regulus then looked down at him from the stage. Directly gazing at him without looking away. James didn't either.

"I've been pushed to always write the best songs. And I believe... there's a difference: between the songs that are meant to be sung, and the ones that are meant to be heard."

James grinned. So did Regulus. Both of their band's songs were meant to be heard... by each other. James knew the Green Roses' songs were about him. And he was more or less sure Regulus knew the Marauders' were about him too.

"I wrote songs meant to be heard. I wrote songs that were meant to be embodied. I think I am, today, lucky enough to say that the person meant to hear them has been able to see them performed several times."

James chuckled to himself, laughing with his nose.

"That's why I'd like to thank The Marauders. For always dragging James Fleamont Potter to our concerts. Thank you everyone," He concluded with the biggest and smugiest smirk ever, knowing look in James' direction, pushing the mic away and holding his trophy up one last time, under the scandalised and supportive cheers and whistles of the crowd.

James now couldn't stop the smirk blooming on his face. He knew the cameras were still pointed on him, and that he probably should keep a straight face. But he couldn't help it. Regulus looked so smug. Tongue poking his cheek, he ended up sliding his eyes back to his band mates. Remus, Lily and Marlene were looking at him with wide eyes from their seats. But the one that said something first was the one sitting at his right, Sirius, singer and guitarist. Accessoringly James' best friend. Accessoringly Regulus' brother.

"James?!" Sirius let out, jaw dropped but hint of a smile on his face, visibly shocked, as James struggled to keep his lips sealed into a neutral expression.

the end ;)

feel free to send more asks...

#jegulus #james potter #regulus black #marauders #dead gay wizards #band au #microfic #marauders microfic #jegulus microfic #fame au

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Shh!

Summary: Y/N and Dean have been overserved...what truths may come from it? Shh! Don't tell.

Pairing/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warnings: None. All fluffy silliness. Little bit of crack. Drunk!Dean and Drunk!Reader. Some mutual pining (sort of).

Word Count: 1,379

A/N: Okay, so I'm trying really hard to catch up with my requests. Thank you all for your patience. This fun request came from a lovely anon:

omgomgomg can you please do the giggly smut space with a drunk!dean and reader?? i love your work sm!

This bingo square was already filled, but I said I'd try to write something fun for them anyway. So, I had lots of fun with the silly antics of these goofballs, hope you enjoy. ❤️

“Shh!” Y/N hissed with her finger to her lips as she and Dean stumbled drunkenly through the bunker door. She tried to frown at her best friend and meant to scold him for his noisiness, but he was making a goofy face as he pretended to be tiptoeing towards the stairs and she just ended up giggling loudly.

“Shh!” Dean scolded her. 

“Me shush? You shush!” She said, laughing as she followed him down the stairs. As they neared the bottom, Y/N lost her footing in the grating on the steps and pitched forward. Dean turned to try and steady her, but it was too late and she knocked them both to the ground. 

Dean landed on his back and Y/N landed directly on top of him.

“Oof!” Dean grunted as his fall and Y/N's weight knocked the wind out of him. 

“Oh my god! Dean, I'm so sorry!” Y/N felt terrible, but her drunken mind couldn't stop laughing at the way they'd plummeted to the floor.

When he could breathe again Dean groaned and started laughing too.

“Shh!” He cautioned as he rolled Y/N beneath him. “You're gonna wake up Sam.” He said in a voice that he thought was a whisper. It wasn't.

Y/N nodded and then caught Dean's eye as her giggling subsided. For a moment their gazes connected as their laughter died away slowly, so that they were left pressed close together and staring at each other.

“You know, you're so pretty.” Dean said, his words slightly slurred. “I don't think you know that, you don't know that I think that. You are.”

Y/N shook her head. “No, YOU don't know. I told you so many times, Dean. I told you that time when there was the baseball bat, and then too, where when we were at the drive-in, and…” Y/N frowned and then shook her head. “I told you all of those times. And then more.”

Dean was nodding along with her words as though he knew what she was talking about but then he burst into laughter and Y/N joined him.

“What were we talking about?” He asked as he stood up and pulled Y/N to her feet. They leaned on each other for balance. 

Y/N shook her head. “I don't actually know.” She cackled, and then shushed herself. Dean joined her. 

“Shh!”

“Shh!” 

They were both holding a finger to their lips and giggling like idiots as Sam walked into the war room from the direction of his bedroom. 

“Shhh-ut up. Both of you.” He said, barefooted and scowling. He was wearing pajama bottoms and a dark blue t-shirt and had obviously been sleeping. 

He was also obviously very annoyed. He ran a tired hand over his cheeks. “It's three in the morning, you two. What the hell are you doing coming home at this hour?”

Y/N snorted and then covered her mouth. “Sorry!” She said when Sam's frown landed on her. “You just…my mom said that when I was like fifteen. You sounded like her, for a second.”

“It's the long hair.” Dean said in a stage whisper, making Sam roll his eyes and Y/N nearly fall over laughing. 

“Was your mom a really tall lady?” Dean asked as both of them fell onto each other again, and landed on their asses on the floor - the extreme hilarity taking them both out. 

“Oh, Jesus.” Sam said in sleepy irritation. “I'm going back to bed. Can you both shut up and just pass out on the floor?”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Dean called with salute and Y/N followed suit.

“Drunken idiots.” Sam mumbled lovingly as he padded back down the hallway to his bedroom.

Eventually Dean and Y/N stood each other up and then wandered down the other hallway towards Dean's room. When they got there, Y/N's eyes lit up when she saw Dean's vinyl collection.

“We have to play some Black Sabbath.”

She fumbled pulling the record out of its sleeve and almost dropped it. 

“Hey! Careful!” Dean protested as he took the precious vinyl out of her hands. 

In the end though, it took both of them to get the record on the turntable properly, and then all of their combined coordination to successfully put the needle down without scratching it. But soon Paranoid was blasting through Dean's room, and down the hallways to Sam's as well, where the youngest Winchester growled and slammed his pillow down tight over his ears.

As the song continued, Y/N grabbed Dean's hands and got him to share in a little drunken headbanging along with the wailing guitars, pounding drums and Ozzy’s slightly monotone voice. Eventually though, he let go so he could crash onto his bed. 

Y/N kept dancing, offbeat and slightly awkward. Dean watched her and smiled deeply.

“This is the other time!” He called over the music.

Y/N shook her head and turned down the volume a little. “What?”

“This is the other time.” Dean repeated.

“The other time of what?” Y/N asked, scrunching up her nose and furrowing her brow in that adorable way she had.

“The other time when you're so pretty and I'm telling you, but you're not listening.” Dean sighed, suddenly sad.

Y/N stumbled over to the bed and climbed up beside him. “Why’re you…what's wrong?” 

Dean shook his head. “No, you never listen to me when I'm trying to tell you. You don't get it.” His mouth dipped into a pout and Y/N was instantly contrite.

“Oh, I wanna listen to you. I do listen. You don't listen.”

Dean stared at her for a moment and then nodded resolutely. “We should write it down. Our things, our listening things. So we don't forget. Then we have to listen to both of ourselves.” Dean's eyes were wide, amazed by his incredible idea. 

Y/N nodded and wobbled over for pens and paper from his desk. She brought them back and slumped onto the bed, passing out the writing materials and grabbing two hardcover books from the bedside table. 

“For writing on.” She explained as she handed Dean a book.

“M’kay. Do you wanna go first?” Dean asked. “Cause…ladies? Y’know?”

But Y/N shook her head. “We could both go though.” She pointed at their separate pieces of paper. 

“Oh right!” Dean said as though finally figuring out her ever-so-complicated plan.

Then they both bent their heads to their task, but after only a few minutes, their pens stilled and their heads drooped towards each other and then banged together gently as they both fell into drunken oblivion.

Twenty minutes later Sam barged into Dean's room no longer able to take the screaming Black Sabbath. He immediately noticed that both of his drunken idiots were sound asleep and snoring, and he sighed, giving his head a shake. 

He took the needle off the record and shut off the record player before he walked quietly up to the bed and rolled his eyes indulgently as he saw Y/N with her head on Dean's shoulder and Dean with his head laying on top of her head.

They’re both gonna have such stuff necks in the morning. He thought.

He picked up the papers and books from their laps. He was about to throw the pages away but then he read them. His smile grew wider and wider as he read what they'd each written. 

Neither had actually finished, but they were both saying the same thing:

“Finally.” Sam whispered with an affectionate eye roll. “Friggin’ idiots.”

He took the papers and walked to the kitchen. Grabbing two strong magnets he posted the letters in plain sight where they couldn't be missed, even by two fools with raging hangovers, before he shut off the lights and went back to bed.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fan fic #fic request #dean winchester crack fic #dean winchester

[nillegible]

Threefold

(For @ladyteldra, who shoved me into this unexpected rabbit hole, but then stuffed it full of content to make me happy)

No one had noticed during the war, as wars were rather distracting. But it was hard not to notice when they got home.

What was left of home; it was still a work in progress.

At first Jiang Yanli excused it away as the magic of Lotus Pier going awry because of what it had been through, but by the second week of reconstruction she tracked down a copy of the Entail from one of the surviving caches.

It shouldn’t have mattered.

Jiang Cheng was the chosen Sect Heir, their Father had made that clear when Jiang Cheng turned fifteen, and Lotus Pier should know that.

(Except Lotus Pier would have felt Mother, then Father, then Jiang Cheng lose their cores here. It might have thought… Perhaps that would explain why…)

When she gently probes Wei Wuxian for his thoughts on their misbehaving inheritance, his face goes stricken and over the next week he dives into the scrolls himself, more thoroughly than she had.

Jiang Yanli had not meant to distract Wei Wuxian from his own self-loathing and his eerie ghost-brides, but that is what it amounts to, in the end.

“Do you think,” Wei Wuxian says finally, over dinner, eyes red and wild like he’s been drinking (clearly distinct, to her, from the red and wild from raising ghosts), “That when Wen Zhuliu. When he – that it broke what marks you as heir?”

Jinag Cheng stiffens at the reminder, and frowns at their brother. “Would that…? But BSSR fixed it.”

“What if it’s not the same core as before?” asks Wei Wuxian, vehemently. “Doesn’t it” he waves a hand towards their surroundings, “feel like it did when we were younger? Before you came of age?”

That’s exactly what it was, Jiang Yanli realizes. The magic of Lotus Pier felt familiar for all it was acting slantwise; it was exactly how it had been before the heir had been named.

“What does that mean, then?” asks Jiang Cheng, standing up. “I’m not the heir, then?”

“You shouldn’t be the heir,” Wei Wuxian says. “You should be the Sect Leader.”

“You’re saying the Lotus Pier doesn’t want me,” says Jiang Cheng. Jiang Yanli lays a hand on Jiang Cheng’s elbow.

Before she can speak a word, Wei Wuxian says, voice final, “No. I’m saying I think the Lotus Pier thinks you died.”

Their ravaged, gutted home is recovering steadily, with new disciples, new responsibilities, new buildings.

Their new Sect Leader and his right hand aren’t doing so well.

“If it thinks you’ll do better, then fine! Be the sect leader!” Jiang Cheng had yelled at Wei Wuxian one day, terrifying Wei Wuxian who insisted he didn’t have the right nor did he want to, and setting off quite a row (“Oh, so Lotus Pier just isn’t good enough for you, huh? Where DO you want to go then?”). Naturally, that escalated into a more physical fight, and when punches were landed and brothers elbowed in the gut and flipped onto their backs, swords were drawn (“You still won’t use your sword? What if I run you through with mine? Pick up your sword, goddamn you!”) which came to a screeching, horrific halt when Suibian unsheathed for an incensed Jiang Cheng.

Wei Wuxian had a lot to explain.

Jiang Yanli doesn’t think Jiang Cheng will ever forgive Wei Wuxian for this, but she patches them both up as best she can, listens while each rants about the idiocy and foolishness of the other. She talks down one little brother from his stated plan to find Wen Qing and make her switch the cores back, and coaxes the other one to rest with promises that she wouldn’t let Jiang Cheng try something like that while he sleeps (“I promise, you can sleep now, A-Xian, I won’t let him.” “Oh but HE can, HE can decide for me-!”)

“Since we’ve decided not to keep secrets from family,” she tells them, after a week of indulging them both in their childishness, “you should both know. The Jiang family has, now, in the direct line me and Jiang Cheng. And then there’s Wei Wuxian, son of Wei Changze, who was a shu-son of Grandfather’s and, technically, broke the oath he made when he left the sect that he would not have children of his own.”

Their faces, when that finally sinks in, makes her giggle.

[“So you could be Sect Leader, since Lotus Pier would accept you. This explains so much about Mother.”

“I told you that Uncle Jiang wanted it to be you! But…yeah. It really does.”]

[“Wait, so the Waterborne Abyss tried to grab you in Gusu… do you think that it wanted…”

(That particular conversation ended abruptly when the plank Jiang Cheng was standing on crumbles, dumping him into the river below.)]

[“Without Uncle Jiang’s mark on Jiang Cheng showing Lotus Pier who the heir is, I think it’s confused about who to pick,” Wei Wuxian tells them, after more time with scrolls and an unexpected visit to Meishan Yu and Gusu Lan sects. “Should it go with strength, or primogeniture? Dad was older than Uncle Jiang, but Shijie’s older than me. And I don’t have a core – but mine’s not gone, it’s still-”

Wei Wuxian shuts himself up before Jiang Cheng can, that time.]

For some reason, the issue seems to weigh more greatly on her and A-Xian than A-Cheng. Perhaps because even though Lotus Pier had not yet acknowledged Jiang Cheng as Sect Leader, the Jiang Sect had. And Sect-Leaderly duties did not wait on the convenience of an ancient dwelling and what may or may not dwell beneath the watery foundations.

Which is why it’s surprising when it’s Jiang Cheng who finds them the solution.

“Are you sure?” she has to ask him.

“Honestly, I always imagined that when I’m Sect Leader, Wei Wuxian would busy-body his way into doing half my work anyway. The only difference is that you can stay here at Lotus Pier and help instead of marrying out.” The sect leader of a clan could not, after all, marry out.

“You should thank me for getting the engagement called off, then!” says Wei Wuxian. “Can you imagine? If we went through with this, then we’d all be engaged to the peacock.”

“A-Xian,” she chides, and her brother looks at her sheepishly. The grin is more naturally like himself, and not like he’s forcing himself to act like he once did.

“Is that okay with you, A-Jie?” asks Jiang Cheng.

“Yes,” she tells them. She had wanted a husband, children, a family of her own. But asked to make this choice; her sect or herself, her brothers or a family that one day might be. She knew her answer. “When shall we do it?”

In the aftermath, very little changes.

The bemused Jiang disciples are told to address both Young Mistress Jiang and Wei-shixiong as Sect Leader also, which takes them some getting used to, but they adapt soon enough.

The civilians from Yunmeng think it’s splendid, and take great pride in their three Sect Leaders.

The other sects receive a letter informing them that Jiang Yanli, Jiang Wanyin, and Wei Wuxian were ‘…henceforth by mutual agreement, to be recognized as one entity, encompassing legal and spiritual dimensions alike. As leaders of the Jiang sect, they will jointly bear the responsibilities and obligations attached to this esteemed position.’ Naturally this brings about some interested speculation in their allied sects.

[“Are you alright, Wangji? Do not worry, there is no need for you and Xichen to do likewise, it is an old ritual meant to rejoin the branches of a Clan that are at risk of a schism, without the messy business of pruning one side to disallow heirs, or line adoption."]

[“How utterly absurd. That girl, and the Ghost Flute, to be acknowledged as Sect Leader Jiang, when little Jiang Cheng can barely fill the role himself? What is the world coming to. Fetch us some wine, boy.”]

[“No that is not a euphemism for them deciding to have an incestuous polyamorous marriage, Huaisang! It probably has to do with that thing they don’t talk about; though why the Wen were not eaten when they stepped foot in Lotus Pier we’ll never know.”]

#wip #JZX/Yunmeng Sibs #So maybe that cancelled engagement wasn't as cancelled as they thought #whoops #what can you do? #All credit to Lotus Pier's waterborne abyss go to Tel

[royaltysuite]

Prompt Works Series (Part One)

Prompt Chosen - #5 (‘EVERYONE IS AGAINST ME!')

Warnings: Angst, depressive, reader feels neglected by the crew.

Everyday.....

The looks they give...

It hurts...

To give some context, the crew and I were set up for a mission alongside with KorTac. This wasn't uncommon since it has happened a few times before. I was their main liaison and translator since Laswell wanted to have no bits of miscommunication throughout the duration of our time in the field.

This was meant to be quite a simple mission. We were meant to grab hold of a former member of KorTac who had sold pertinent information to a common enemy of both forces. This former member had been hidden for quite some time until it was discovered that he was in close contact....

With me.

I had no idea who he was prior to this mission until I had seen his name and face pop up on the screen at our debriefing. The gasp I'd let escape from me was loud enough to cut Laswell off mid-speech. Everyone turned their attention to my direction as if wondering what the problem was.

Seeing this, I quickly excused myself and bolted out of the room. I did not realize that action raised major suspicion in their minds. Now, back to present day....

I was sat across from the traitor in an interrogation room, trying my best to make the situation right. Trying to prove that I had no hand in his deceit. "Please, just tell them who you sold the info to and I will make sure that the consequences won't be as harsh as they should be." I pleaded, wanting nothing more than to dead the situation and call it quits.

"What's the matter, princess? Upset they know you're tied to me? Tell me, do they know how I had you under me? Had you screaming my name each time I fucked you? Begging for more?" He sneered, his bloody smirk planted deep into his features. "That has nothing to do with this and you know it." I growled, my temper slowly but surely coming to a head.

"Oh, but it does, sweetheart. You slept with their enemy and now, they won't ever trust a word you say. Not now, not ever. So, damn the consequences, I take pleasure in seeing you become my scapegoat."

Those words set off everything I held back. I lunged and knocked him out of his chair. Blow after blow, I added more bruises and welts to his already injured form. At that moment, I wanted him to die by my hands. To feel the life leaving him.

But, I never got that chance. I could feel a familiar set of arms wrap themselves around my still swinging form and drag me out of the room. Soon, I found myself in the room adjacent to the one I was just in.

"CALM YOURSELF, SOLDIER!" The booming voice of my captain, John Price, echoed through the room. "NO, I CAN'T!!! HE'S MAKING A FOOL OUT OF ME!!!" "He's just getting under your skin, Love, and you're letting him." Gaz chimed from his spot in between Soap and Ghost. The other two stayed quiet as John tried to calm me down enough to speak rationally. "BECAUSE HE'S RIGHT!! Damn, I hate to fucking admit it, but he's right!"

"What are ye goin' on 'bout, lass?" "Don't even start with me, Johnny. I see how you all look at me now. EVERYONE IS AGAINST ME! Acting as if I was the one who betrayed you!" I cried out, now feeling myself slipping into a panic attack. I ripped myself from Price's grip and made my way to a corner of the room. Sliding down the wall, I attempted to curl into myself to shield myself from their pitying gazes.

At that moment, I felt like nothing more than a used piece of cloth. Meant to be used over and over until finally, I was thrown to the side. Not even a millisecond passed before I heard footsteps approach me. I could tell that it was König just off of his looming figure. He bent down and tried placing a hand on my arm, but stopped when he saw my body flinch away from his touch, "I'm sorry, Schätzchen, that we did not trust you in the beginning." He voiced, a bit muffled due to his mask. "There's no point, you all don't trust me or my word anymore..."

After that day, I spent less and less time around the 141 and KorTac. The only time I was ever near them was if they needed my assistance in translating documents for them and even then, I never directly handed it to them. It was either through Laswell or some poor soldier who had to deal with the immense tension. Maybe, this is how it needs to be from now on.

Maybe, I should just become a shadow to them all....

#x reader #royaltysuite #call of duty mwii #ghost cod #john price cod #call of duty soap #mw2 gaz #konig cod #kortac #task force 141 x reader #konig x reader

[pixiiipie]

As someone who’s desperately into subby boys I love your stuff. If you find the time would you write something for Rafayel? I love that fishie. 😩

mirror fucking | sub rafayel

includes: dom!reader | gn!reader | strap-on used | blowjob (receiving) | pegging (giving) | handjob (barely mentioned) (giving)

sorry this is so long and it takes a little while to get going!! i’m trying to work on a more to the point writing style but i can’t help waffling TT

i don’t know too much about rafayel atm so i hope i wrote him decently for you | and thank u so much <33! i love writing subby boys so i’m here to deliver to you all

it was common for rafayel to suddenly disappear like this. these long periods of silence usually meant that he was busy working on his next piece but he’d always send you the occasional message when he was thinking about you or felt lonely. with you in his life, it was hard to continue as he used to. he’s so needy.

this time however, his messages were less frequent and when he did message, he seemed uninterested. either he was incredibly focused or his painting wasn’t going well. worrying a little, you decide to drop in on him by surprise to give yourself piece of mind but also because you missed him dearly.

———

walking into his painting room, you admire all the works of art surrounding you but only one was worth looking at. sat at the top of his ladder, rafayel stared at a blank canvas silently muttering to himself. the setting sun’s rays streamed through the windows and made him appear otherworldly. you let out a content sigh full of love. “hey, what are you doing here?” rafayel asks, finally noticing you.

“getting a strong sense of deja vu” you say with a laugh. blocking the canvas from his sight, he turns to you giving you his full attention. “if i fall, do you think you can catch me this time?” he teases. “of course princess.” you retort back. rafayel smiles but it doesn’t feel sincere. he looks distracted.

“come down my love.” you say, holding the ladder for him and extending your hand to him. rafayel sighs and nods slowly making his way down and taking your hand when he reaches you. seeing your expression, he already knows what you’ll ask him.

“i need a new piece for this exhibit i’ve been invited to but… i just can’t think. i’m going to tell them i can’t do it.” rafayel says, avoiding your gaze. bringing a hand to his cheek, you gently move his head to face yours and give him a chaste kiss. you feel his body relax with your touch and as you pull away, he chases your lips desperate for more. rubbing your thumb over his cheek, your heart melts seeing your boy like this. he leans into your hand and holds it there with his, silently begging for you to stay with him.

“the more you force yourself to make something, the less chance you have being successful.” you say but quickly continue before he can cut in with a remark “you’re going to burn yourself out even more and become frustrated. art block is a killer you just need to direct your attention elsewhere.” your other hand wraps around his waist and massages small circles into it.

“i… i really need to make something new. people will get bored.” rafayel quietly says moving his head into your neck and surrounding himself with your scent- comforting him. pressing a quick kiss to his neck, you start shuffling over to his floor length mirror with him still attached. such a baby but you loved how he felt so safe with you. “how about,” you whisper, tapping him to get his attention, “you do a portrait? or even a self portrait you haven’t done one of those in a while.” rafayel slowly lifts his head up, glances at himself in the mirror and goes back to his hiding place. all his motivation had gone and you could tell his self esteem was struggling as a result.

“oh my love.” you say, running a hand through his hair, “i love the cool tone colours you use and the dreamy/underwater look you make so effortlessly.” with your encouragement, he lifts his head again and watches your eyes in the mirror. “those are my favourites. just look at all the colours you could include especially…” you say as you pull him into another kiss “…when i do this.” and gesture at his flushed expression. “that’s my favourite colour.”

his heart couldn’t take it anymore. this was the perfect distraction. oh he’d forgotten just how much he’d missed you and your touch. all he wanted now was to feel you and for you to look at him. “please… oh darling touch me more please.” rafayel begs pressing his forehead against you. with a smile, you snake a hand down to softly squeeze his ass which made him gasp. “woah… getting handsy already.” he tries to say in his usual teasing tone but it comes out more breathless than he’d liked.

“how about, to help you get started, i show you some anatomy references you could use?” you say gesturing to the bag your brought. rafayel could only nod, wondering a little to what that could allude to but letting you go to fetch it. he was left standing breathing heavily and a ‘problem’ forming between his legs which his was quick to attempt to hide. you didn’t reveal what you had brought until you were stood next to him again. “on your knees.” you commanded, motioning with your eyes and taking what you had brought out from behind you. your strap on.

his eyes never left yours as he knelt down infront of you. rafayel patiently held out his hands to help you adjust your harness and kissed your legs all while doing so. “you know what to do now.” you say, playing with his hair with one hand before taking his chin. “of course.” he says with a smile but a little shaky. obediently, kisses the tip before licking long strips up the sides. you loved watching him treat your strap like a real dick. “mm you’re so big” he said with a sly smile. then, inch by inch, he slowly worked his way up your strap so that his nose touched your abdomen. he tried so hard to please you even if you couldn’t strictly feel pleasure from this. he was adorable to watch as he tried every trick in the book to not gag but his teary eyes betrayed him. such a show off.

such a good boy.

“you look so beautiful right now, my love. look” you say and point at the mirror. flicking his eyes to his reflection, rafayel saw just how desperate he was for you. on his knees as if you were his god. he took this opportunity to show off and kissed down the shaft before taking you in the entire way and moving up and down moaning the entire way (which were half fake and half from his attempt of his trousers rubbing against him).

“can you fuck me now? please? it’s been so long.” he begs, rubbing his cheek against your strap. “on all fours sweet boy.” you say, bending over to kiss his forehead. rafayel tried not to appear excited and instead put on a little show of taking off his trousers and bending over for you. “hello pretty boy.” you say as he stretches like a cat to try and tease you. kneeling beside him, you trace your fingers down his body and hook onto his underwear before slowly pulling them down. he shivered at your motion. you reach a hand around for him to coat your fingers while the other flicks his dick causing him to gasp. “d-don’t tease.” he says half confident and half whiny. “sorry but you’re too cute. this won’t take long” you say as you begin to push your fingers into his hole.

rafayel tried to be patient but you’d worked him up too much and it’d been too long. “mmghh that’s enough… i-it’s good.” he moaned weakly grabbing your wrist, “haah- oh goddd please i need youu.”

“okay then if you say so.” you half warn. nothing would be able to change his mind now and to be honest, you wanted this badly too. you really wanted him to feel good. “but one condition baby,” you align yourself with his hole making his try to push his hips back, “you can’t stop looking at yourself.” and with that, you start to slowly push in holding onto his hips. as you did, you grabbed him by the chin with one hand and made him look at himself. “aww what i pretty boy i have hm? you look so beautiful taking my dick like a good boy.”

the praise feels electric but having to look at himself the whole time was embarrassing! he wanted to look at you more. “ohhhhh- mghh-! feels gooddd s’gooodd” rafayel babbles trying to not let his eyes flutter shut. as soon as you bottom out, you start thrusting and aiming for his sweet spot carefully watching him. you bend over his body and leave little kisses on his neck as well as making sure to suck on his ears. they flared red and his moans became whines. “hnng-! c-carefulll sensiti-ivee.” so cute.

“don’t forget to keep your eyes up darling. that’s my pretty boy.” you whisper in his ears which made it increasingly difficult for him to focus on anything you were saying to him. “ohhhh fffuck hnng-!”

“aww look at what a gorgeous boy i have i’m so lucky. not only that but he’s so talented isn’t he?”

his head was so foggy he couldn’t handle it all. he burned at all of your praise and couldn’t stop his noises as you targeted his prostate. “isn’t my handsome boy so talented rafayel?” you ask again. his name sounded so perfect coming out of your mouth. he wished you would keep talking to him your voice was intoxicating. “mmnnn-! yesh y-yesyes.” he whined as he struggled to keep himself upright.

“yes what, my love?” you tease, increasing your pace and biting his ear slightly. “tah-! talent ‘m talente-eddd mmmgghhh gooodd.” rafayel was barely looking at himself now and instead his head hung low as he focused all his strength in holding himself up. it didn’t matter he’d done so well and he was probably weak from shutting himself in for so long. “that’s my hardworking boy. i’m so proud of you, rafayel.” you kissed his cheek, a hand coming round to stroke his dick. the added stimulation was too much!

“clo-oseee c-cum cahnn i?” he slurred, his hips unintentionally started slowly trying to match your thrusts to get him closer. “of course, you’ve worked so hard and done so well. you deserve the world, darling.” you praise him and kiss down his spine. it didn’t take long after your sweet words that he came over the floor and almost lost his balance if you didn’t hold onto him.

rubbing his hips, you slowly pull out and discard your strap on the floor. shuffling around, you sit in front of rafayel and support his upper body against you. “did that help you great artist?” you ask after a little while, moving his hair out of his eyes.

“mmmnn i got quite fuzzy… can’t remember much i might need to look at my references again.” he says teasingly. “oh wait… these clothes… i don’t like the colour they won’t work. maybe you should take them off next time.”

despite his remarks, he nuzzled into your neck, whispered thank you and started whining all over again.

#not super confident with thisss #hope it’s okay!! #dom reader #sub character #dom!reader #sub!character #💜•rafayel #sub love and deepspace #love and deepspace #sub lads #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x mc #rafayel x y/n #rafayel smut #sub rafayel #sub love & deepspace #love & deepspace #l&ds #sub l&ds #rafayel l&ds #l&ds rafayel #rafayel love & deepspace #love & deepspace rafayel #💜•maris fics #💜•pegging #💜•fingering #💜•praise

[twistedwonderlandsimps]

Got random idea come while reading your Yuu Hunt and reading Yuu Leech again that Yuu Hunt meet with the Leech twins and Yuu Leech meet with Rook Hunt.

A lot of things can happen, Rook being a stalker, he is stalk Yuu Leech.

Jade and Floyd really interested in Yuu Hunt as they not like their younger brother Rook.

Though love your story and headcannon.

Thank you for reading my stories, anon! And I hope you enjoy this one, too!

-

[Yuu Leech and Rook Hunt]

“Oi! Yuu, can’t you slow down a little?” Grim grumbled as he tried to keep up with Yuu’s pace, unbothered by the dark aura they were emitting. Only Grim would be so bold to talk to Yuu while they were in one of their moods. Yuu said nothing and continued walking down the school’s hallway, ignoring how the students immediately steered clear from their path. After all, who would want to purposely irritate an already irate Leech? They’d probably be either the bravest or the stupidest person in the world. And unfortunately or fortunately, whoever it was had gotten Yuu’s attention.

“It’s like you’re trying to run away from someone.” 

Yuu clicked their tongue and cracked their neck, rolling their shoulders as if they were preparing for something. “Aiya… Do I look like someone who'd run away? I can feel their eyes on me since earlier and it won't stop. It's starting to piss me off. If they want a fight then they better do something soon because I'm getting bored.”

Grim’s ears perked up at your words. “A land predator? Are you gonna hunt them down?” It was a common occurrence for the both of them to try and beat down people or creatures that interested Yuu. No matter if it was on land or on sea, Grim always helped them take it down.

A smirk tugged at Yuu’s face, teeth bared. “If they don't make a move, I will...”

Swish!

Just then, the Leech’s hand shot up and caught an arrow mid-air. The arrow had a dulled tip, clearly not meant to seriously injure but it was a declaration to Yuu, nevertheless. Yuu smiled menacingly as they turned their head towards the direction where the arrow came from, the shine of metal visible from afar as a second arrow was prepared to be released.

“Found you.”

-

The Leech twins like it when Yuu and Rook decide to hunt each other down because it takes the attention off of them. Rook stops stalking them and Yuu doesn't put them in their inescapable hugs so it's a double win for them. They also deliberately did not tell them about Rook for the hell of it.

Anyway, Yuu Leech finds Rook interesting and enjoys fighting with him whenever they meet. Rook’s easily one of the people that can probably take Yuu's attention off of their brothers and free them from their hug.

-

[Yuu Hunt and the Leech Twins]

Yuu wasn't a coward, per se, but it does get quite worrying when they've noticed two twins with teal hair in their peripherals who had been following them for quite a while now and judging from the amount of students avoiding them, they were probably someone not to mess with.

‘So why are they following me?!’ Yuu screams internally.

“Oi, Yuu, they're getting closer. What do we do?!” Grim whispered at them, also having been keeping track of the two since they appeared. “They won't go away no matter how much we try to lose them!”

“You think I don't know that?!” Yuu whispered back.

Unfortunately as fates would have had it, as Grim and Yuu weren't that familiar with the school’s layout and that made it all more easy for the Leech twins to corner them.

“N-Now, now…” Yuu tried to placate as they backed up, putting their hand in front of them like that would physically stop the slowly advancing Floyd. Jade was standing behind him, guarding the way out should Yuu slip by his brother.  “I'm sure that whatever my brother did, I had nothing to do with it.” This whole situation was probably their brother’s fault. Yuu just arrived at the school a few days ago so there was no way they could've done something. The most logical thing here would be because of their brother.

‘What’s this? Can't get back at the younger brother so bully the older sibling instead?’ Yuu cried inside. They were sooo going to tell Rook to stop whatever it was he was doing with people.

“Heh, you remind me of a shrimp. I'll call you Shrimpy…” Floyd smirked, finding it amusing how different Yuu acted compared to their young brother. “Come here, Shrimpy, Shrimpy.” He lunged for the older Hunt. Except, he didn't make contact as he found himself falling backwards from a sudden weight pulling him back and onto the ground. Floyd tried to get up but soon realized that the lapels of his clothes had been bolted down on the ground with a crossbow arrow.

Yuu didn't hesitate reloading and quickly aimed the crossbow, firing multiple shots consecutively at Jade who dodged their attack. However, it seemed that this was exactly what Yuu planned as they and Grim made a mad dash towards the exit.

“Sorry, I'll pay for your clothes lateeeeer!”

-

While Yuu Hunt may be a bit of a ball of anxiety, they– like all the other Yuu sibling variants– have the skills to deal with others. Remember, they're a Hunt and while they are scared of Rook, they're still the oldest Hunt sibling.

Yuu is terrified of the Leech twins but always uses non-lethal methods to escape them. Rook, however, is still and always will be their top one most scary person to be hunted by. 

#ask #sibling!yuu #sibling yuu #fix tags when on computer #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland au #twst au #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #twisted wonderland headcanon #twst headcanon #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland imagine #twst imagine #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland scenario #twst scenario #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios #jade leech #floyd leech #rook hunt

[biggestsimponhere]

Ghostface Sam! x reader fluff using the prompt "Stay with me" Please and thank you!!

Stay? - Ghostface!Sam x reader

The news had spread through the town fast. A masked killer. People were scared to leave their houses, scared to go to the school, scared to even be in their houses. You however had to go to school, you needed to keep your grades up and besides your best friend, Sam, he’s not afraid of anything and if he’s going then so are you. You smile as you notice him approaching your locker. People have always looked at him weird due to his blue hair and unusual sense of style but you loved it. “How are you?” He asks as he stops beside you. “Honestly?,” You question, he nods “I’m terrified, there’s a killer out there and he seems to be targeting people from our school” You say seriously.

“I would never let anything happen to you” He assures you. “You know I love you but how are you going to fight off a killer?” You ask, he looks as if you just asked him an insane question before he smirks. “I’ve got some skills” He says, before you can question him he tugs you into your history classroom. The two of you sit at your desks. You continue to think about the killer and what you’re meant to do considering your parents are going out tonight. “Sammy?” You whisper over to him. He turns his head in your direction. “After the party tonight, would you walk me home?” You ask quietly. He nods immediately before turning back to his work.

After school you get ready for the party and head to Liliana’s house, meeting sam there. Unfortunately it was a costume party and what better costume than your towns own killer, so it appears most people were dressed like him. You startle as a pair of hands wraps around your waist. “What’re you doing here alone angel?” A voice questions behind you. “Waiting for a friend” You say stepping out of his hands. He holds firm. A silence grows between the two of you before he shouts boo at you. He slides the mask off revealing it’s just Sam. “You’re an asshole you know that?” You say covering your face with your hands. “Oh i’m sorry angel” He says mockingly as he flicks your angel wings.

The two of you join the rest of your peers on the dance floor. You dance for about an hour before Sam tells you that he needs to head to the bathroom. He walks off leaving you alone, dancing with no one. After a strange amount of time you’re confused by his absence. You head to the bathroom in search of him, upon the realization that it’s empty you assume he left you. Heading outside you stand on the porch. A scream sounds from inside as someone says that rick is dead. You didn’t know rick well though he did have a tendency to flirt with you. Everyone sprints away from the house but you still can’t find Sam.

You turn and start to head back into the house before a hand grabs your wrist and pulls you away. You sigh in relief at the realization that it’s Sam. “Where have you been?” You practically yell. He shushes you, and leads you down the street towards your house. Once the two of you settle into your living room you take the time to look him over, admiring him, your best friends always been pretty. You notice a slight hint of red on the fabric of his costume but assume it was just something stupid from the party. “Can you believe ricks dead?” You say, pulling your legs up under you.

He joins you on the couch after taking his costume off. “that’s crazy” He says in a tone that suggests he doesn’t really care. “Let’s get you to bed yeah?” He adds. The two of you head up to your bedroom, you head into the bathroom and change before settling on your bed. “Sam? Will you stay with me?” You ask quietly. “My parents are gone and I don’t want to be alone” You add hoping it’ll convince him, not that he needed any convincing. He nods “Of course” He says sliding into the bed with you. You close your eyes and begin to drift off. “Sweet dreams angel” He whispers at the top of your head. He then smiles knowing rick or any other guy will never be able to talk to you again without meeting… well the sharp edge of a knife.

#sam monroe #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe x you #sam monroe x y/n #biggestsimponhere #ghostface!sam monroe #sam monroe fluff #hayden christensen characters #hayden christensen fanfiction #hayden christensen

[rikeijo]

Today's translation #632

Go Yuri!!! Go official fanbook, Tominaga Keisuke's comment

A Tales of Sleeping Prince

From the Director, we have received the following plot: (1.) The lonely scene, in which Georgi is sad and regrets that he cast the eternal sleep curse. (2.) He decides that 'I should become a prince and save everyone with the power of my kiss...' (3.) He saves everyone with his kisses and everyone is smiling. (4.) She also wakes up and a smile is back on her face - Happy End. I decided in what direction we should go with this one, based on Georgi's diligent and powerful character. He's manly as a knight, but when I've heard that the small visible piece of the tank top that he wears underneath his costume is called by other a 'bra strap', I also felt some sort of femininity in him, and that's why I used a down-to-earth beat, elegant strings, tubular bells that sound like they are singing the Gospel and a powerful female vocal. I added horse's neighing sounds to the part where the melody changes, and by making the music more pretentious that it needs to be I represented Georgi as a guy with very little self-awareness in how other view him. In part, we got carried away with this one (laugh).

[Notes: IceAdo-related... I listened to Toyonaga's radio program yesterday... And he said basically that 'well, maybe it's for the better that there is no continuation, it could have been shit, yk?' So... yikes 💀

For YoI to be shit, it means that Sayo and Mitsurou would have to let it be shit... (If you think that he might have meant 'censorship' or something like that... nah, absolutely not, it's 'Yuuri and Victor are not lovers, but comedian duo working together, that barely speak to each other in their personal lives' Toyonaga) My guess is that when he says that it means just the usual 'you wouldn't like it anyway, bc no Yuuri...' In his case, Yuuri is still his most famous role, so I understand his saltiness... But to suggest that the creators would do a shitty job, so it's actually not that bad that the movie got cancelled? It also basically confirms that at the moment Avex&co have zero plans to touch YoI, otherwise he wouldn't touch this subject... He used the word 'continuation', like in 'continuation of the franchise', not 'movie' specifically.

Uhg....I'm really not a big fan of his🤬]

#yuri on ice #yoi translations #yuri on ice translation

[local-diavolo-anon]

Am i doing a Sun/Moon fics marathon? yes i am.

I read Celestiam Omens by @bamsara and i am VIBRATING waiting for the new chapter because i really love these guys

edit: i figured what was bothering me about moon and corrected it lol, turns out i forgot to color his scars

#fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #moon #sun #mermaids #or well #mermen #celestial omens #by the gods i love monster fics #these two deserve so many kisses #cute little sea terrors #i am not fully satisfied with how moon looks like #but i have no idea on how to fix that #also i was supposed to color the two little guys on the top left as well but i forgot and i am too tired right now #fun fact: i drew moon first #and when i went to draw sun #he was meant to be facing the other direction #i went 'oh this is fine too' #and bam at sketch done i noticed his hand was over Moon's lineart #my art #illustration