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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 3 months ago

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Epilogue: True Love Is Hard To Find

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

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

Word Count: 12.2K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's Soldier Boy. Vomiting, Dark/Depressing thoughts, Heartbreak, FLUFF, FLUFF, and oh did I mention FLUFF, Sexual innuendo, Self-deprecating thoughts, Drinking, Cursing, Some references to past trauma, References to past sex, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

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

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Song lyrics are bold, italics, and are in red. The lyrics come from "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love," by Russ Colombo (can be found at the link). This is the song I based the series on and it really is wonderful to listen to.

A/N: Well guys, we made it. Just remember that this isn't goodbye, it's I'll see you in a little while.

Five Months Later…

"Is it time to go yet?" Ben murmurs into your ear, his breath rustling against the hair he tucked carefully behind it moments ago, his hand pressing into the small of your back.

The sounds of clinking glasses, laughter, and small chatter ebb and flow over the crowded art gallery, the white walls a subtle backdrop to the colorfully dressed people, waiters, and the canvases that hang on the walls.

Women in elegant dresses stand at different sized paintings while men dressed in casual suits and ties stand beside them in stoic contemplation, their eyes following the gentle brushstrokes that cover the canvases hanging in succession against the bland backdrop.

Waiters dressed in simple suits with silver trays of food and pastries weave through the crowded room, offering treats to whomever they stop by, while a bartender sits at a large wooden bar designed to fit into the venue serving drinks to patrons and pouring multicolored liquids into glasses.

It had been five months since Ben came back, five months since you said goodbye to Homelander, and five of the happiest months of your life.

The first month following Ben's return, you had taken him to the house in Maine, figured that you both could use a vacation and spent your days sunning on the beach together and curled up in bed making up for the time that you lost when Ben was gone. You weren't complaining, not when every day you felt the same way as when you'd woken up the day after your birthday, not when each time Ben kissed you felt like the first time, and not when every time he touched you it felt like you were filled with sunlight. You felt warmer, lighter, happier, and being with him was even more wonderful than you remember.

Every day was fused with wonder and expectation and every night Ben made you feel more loved than you ever had. You were so blissfully happy that you had forgotten the past and were excited for what the future would hold for the two of you.

Lou, Rosemary, and Ryan had come after a few weeks to spend time with Ben and you at the house. Lou was ecstatic that Ben was staying in your lives and spent every moment with him on the beach having him help her make sandcastles and look for shells and shiny rocks that were rubbed smooth by the waves.

Rosemary was still icy towards Ben, but you knew that she was starting to get used to him being around. All you hoped was that one day she would warm up to him, but it was a little less awkward between the two of them. She was at least calling him by his name and she could stand to be in the same room as him. When Ben read the paper in the mornings at the breakfast table off of the large kitchen at the house, Rosemary drank her coffee quietly and read through a paperback, you painted in your watercolor pad absentmindedly, and Lou tried her best to copy you all the while making small talk with Ryan who sat beside her.

Ryan was living in the spare room in Rosemary's apartment and despite being corrected, Lou referred to Ryan as her older brother every chance she got, something that always made Ryan brush bright red. At first Rosemary and you had been wary about bringing in a blossoming teenager in to her home, not to mention a blossoming teenager that had the ability to level a small building if he wanted to, but Ryan seemed to like living there and he didn't cause any unnecessary trouble. Butcher came by every week to take Ryan out of the apartment to give Rosemary a break and Ryan was always happy to go with him.

That was something you weren't sure about. Yes, you liked that Butcher had such a big influence in Ryan's life, but you didn't like how often he came by. You weren't sure you trusted him with what he knew about Lou's powers that only seemed to grow by the day since their development. Every time Lou watched something with a supe in it she started exhibiting a new ability, but she seemed to be able to turn them on and off at will.

Which was good. She also seemed to understand the idea that it wasn't good to show them in public. There were a few slip ups, for example when Ben and you took Lou for ice cream one day. she got so excited when she received the cone that she started levitating a few inches off the ground and another time she threw a temper tantrum at the grocery store and stomped her foot so aggressively against the ground that the entire building shook.

The looks she got when she did both of those things were the same looks you got when Lou called Ben and you "grandpa" and "grandma" in public.

But she was doing better and with Rosemary's ability to touch Lou and get the power Lou was exhibiting, Rosemary had been able to show Lou how to control some of the abilities better than others.

Ryan also helped. He was old enough to babysit Lou when there was no one else, comforting because now that Lou had powers you didn’t trust anyone else to be around her and didn't trust that Vought had forgotten. Ryan was just starting school, a school just a few blocks from Rosemary’s apartment where he could feel like a real kid, and was already struggling through math. When he asked Ben for help Ben had replied that Ryan didn’t need it and the only thing Ryan should focus on was sports.

Ben was no longer allowed to offer Ryan education advice and Butcher and you both tried your best to help Ryan with math instead. You’d also told Ryan not to listen to someone who got kicked out of every boarding school he ever went to, which only made Ben smack you on the ass and say "it takes one to know one" while Rosemary mimed vomiting in the kitchen.

You had asked Rosemary if she wanted to get a new apartment, big enough for everyone so you could be around 24/7 to help her, but she’d complained and said that she was too old to be living with her parents.

She was right, but you still tried your best to be around to give her a break whenever she needed one.

Of course it wasn’t all good in those five months.

Rosemary quit her job at the hospital after everything happened with Homelander and didn’t tell you that she’d gotten a new one working with Butcher on his team. When you’d confronted her about it she’d told you that it wasn’t a big deal, but to you it was. You had spent the past 40 years of Rosemary’s life keeping all the supe shit separate, but now she was diving in head first. You’d had a fight, a bad one, one of the worst the two of you had ever had and you’d spent three days in bed crying to Ben who held you tight and didn’t let you go. When Rosemary had finally showed up three days later, her own eyes red and rimmed with dark circles beneath you knew she was just as upset as you were. And then she told you why she did it.

It wasn’t because of Butcher, it was because of Homelander.

Rosemary was guilty, frustrated with herself because she had been unable to keep Lou safe from him. Rosemary said that she felt like she had been hiding her entire life, turning her back on a piece of herself, and that she needed to do this. She felt like a failure, worthless, and that she needed to embrace who she really was. So you tried to be supportive all the while contemplating if you should follow her on missions to make sure that she was okay.

But that seemed a little obsessive so you held yourself back.

It was going well and honestly, Rosemary seemed happy. Not to mention Butcher liked having her around for medical assistance if there was a problem in the field.

Ben was working for Butcher too, something else you also didn't agree with, but at least now you didn't have to worry about Rosemary as much. You knew that Ben wouldn't let anything happen to her, but you also didn't love that you now had both of them to worry about. Sometimes you thought about working for Butcher too, but after everything that happened with Homelander, Stan, Noir, and your old team, you were happy to immerse yourself in your art again, to dive in to your creativity and let it wash away any of your worries and pain that rose in the aftermath of the everything that had happened five months ago.

You'd told Ben that he didn't have to work, told him that the both of you had more than enough money for a few centuries, but for Ben it was bigger than that. He wanted to work, thought that it was his job to provide for the both of you, his job to take care of you, and you didn’t want to argue with him about that. It was difficult to say no to him, not when he was just as happy as you were, and not when he was giving you everything you said you wanted all those years ago the night you saved Noir. He had given you a home, someone who loves you, and someone to come home to and it was more wonderful than you could have ever imagined. He gave you everything he promised and more.

Sometimes when you were together, he'd get a look on his face like he had no idea how it happened, and you weren't too sure either, but you were so happy that you didn't care. The things you'd daydreamed about all those years ago, of Ben and you living together and being in love dulled in comparison to the real thing. You'd never seen Ben smile as much as you had in the past five months, never seen him so full of life and happiness in all the years you'd known him, and you wanted him to be that way every day for the rest of his life.

And you had never been as inspired to paint as you were now, hence the art show Ben and you were currently attending.

Rosemary, Lou, and Ryan were taking it easy for the evening and you didn’t blame them. Rosemary had just come back from an overnight trip with Butcher's team from somewhere in the South and stated she needed to relax. You’d graciously offered to take Ryan and Lou with you, but she’d waved you off. Said that it was alright and that Ben and you should enjoy yourselves.

You think that working together also helped Ben and Rosemary get more comfortable interacting, but there was still some tension that you hoped would fade in the coming years. It was better than it had been. You were also worried about them working with Butcher's team because of what you'd done to them at Vought, but so far there didn't seem to be a problem. In fact, Rosemary and Annie were becoming friends, which made you happy because Rosemary had friends, but none who she could be one hundred percent honest with about who you were and the powers she had. With Annie, Rosemary didn't have to pretend.

Grace Mallory called every week to check in and keep you updated on Homelander's progress. He was still the same as he had been five months ago, but she was getting a new doctor to come take a look at him, someone who was well versed in memory loss and you hoped he was able to figure it out. Not that you really wanted old Homelander to come back, but because you didn't know where to go from here. You knew that if Homelander ever got out, the first thing he would do was find Compound V, and then come after your family. But it still felt weird to kill someone who didn't remember the things they had done.

Sometimes you wished that it could have been different, but if this was how it always ended up you wouldn't change a thing, because it meant that you might not be here with Ben.

You smile up at Ben, adjusting his dark tie with a steady hand and smoothing out the collar of his black suit. "We've been here for twenty minutes. And it was you that wanted to come to my show."

Ben grins. "Maybe I just wanted to see you all dressed up sweetheart. Have I told you how beautiful you look?"

He had, several times before you left your apartment. Not to mention you'd walked out of the bedroom and into the living room Ben had all but tackled you onto the couch and made the both of you late because you had to redo your makeup.

Your dress was maroon, backless, and had capped sleeves that fell off your shoulders to curve just over your biceps. It was cinched at the waist and fell elegantly to your feet that were encased in a pair of black heels that made you almost tall enough to reach Ben's shoulders. There was a new necklace hanging around your neck, one that Ben had gotten you for your one month anniversary. It was a kite cut emerald about the size of the end of your pinky. You still had the pearl necklace that Noir had stolen from you, but now when you looked at it, you felt sad and didn't remember your father. Not to mention the pearl necklace that Ben gave you as a replacement was still in pieces from the night that you both wanted to forget.

So he'd gotten you this one and you loved it, because it reminded you of Ben's beautiful eyes, the same ones that were focused on you right now, shining in the light of the gallery.

Ben looked better than you did, then again you always thought he did. He was wearing a sharp black suit with a crisp white shirt and a black tie. Every time you looked at him you couldn't believe he was all yours. You wondered if he felt that way whenever he looked at you.

"I can't leave early, it’s my party remember? It would be rude to-"

He leans in again, his hand tightening on your waist. "I'd much rather take you home and congratulate you myself."

Ben doesn't miss the shiver that travels down your spine with his words, eyes shifting to the goosebumps that erupt on your arms. "Come on doll, I could go get the car right now." He purrs pressing a kiss just under your left ear, feeling your resolve begin to waver, which was already hanging by a thread. Ben never needed to do much to persuade you, but you noticed that when it came to you Ben also had a hard time saying no. And you loved how easily you worked him.

“Didn’t you congratulate me before we left?” You murmur kissing along his sharp jaw. “And this morning?” You drag your hands up his chest feeling a low groan vibrate through his rib cage. “And last night?”

“Are you complaining doll?” His eyes glint mischievously, smirk pulling at the end of his lips.

“No. Because I happen to like congratulating you too.”

“Good, because I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting to congratulate you.” Ben nudges his nose against yours, before fitting his soft lips over your mouth. The subtle scratch of his well trimmed beard tickles against your cheeks as he deepens the kiss, his hand pressed against the small of your back, securing you against his strong body.

It was moments like this that made you want to melt into him, to let him take everything you were, and everything he was and mold them together as one. Ben was everything to you and now that you knew what it was like to have him not be in your life, you were never going to let him go.

"Ben." You smile, gently laying your hand on his cheek, feeling the coarse hairs of his beard scratch against your palms. "Please, just another hour at least."

"Sweetheart-"

You stand up on tip toe, so you can whisper in his ear while holding tight to his right shoulder. "Baby please. One more hour and then you'll have me all to yourself."

"Promise?" Ben murmurs, eyes darkening with your proposition.

"I promise."

Ben smiles pleased, and turns back to survey the crowds chattering about the paintings you had done, his arm wrapped around your waist.

The different sized canvases on the wall were awash with colors. The theme was "Out With the Old and In With the New," inspired by a trip Ben and you had taken to Philadelphia, but also you saw it as a new beginning, a way for the two of you to shake off the shadow of the past and move into the future together. He'd wanted to see how much Philadelphia had changed and you hadn’t been there since your brother’s funeral.

The two of you had spent the week going to places you knew all too well before you became supes. Some of the buildings were still there, while others had vanished into obscurity. Ben's family estate was still just as you remembered it. He was still technically the owner, but you didn't want to make him stay there, not when you knew about the scars that clung to the walls and creeped along the staircases. He had stepped foot inside, the musty smell wafting out through the open doors, the dust swirling in clouds with every unsure step he took. Ben's father had died a few years before Ben went to Russia, and despite all the ways Ben disappointed him, Ben's father still left him everything.

When Ben stood just in the entryway of the mansion you could see the weight settle on his shoulders once more, the weight his father put there and pressed into him. The last time the two of you had been there was when Ben's father died, but you hadn't been able to comfort Ben the way you wanted to then. This time you took him into your arms and pressed his head into your shoulder, trailing your fingers into his hair, and holding him close to you. Ben put it up for sale before the two of you left, and you were more than happy to see it go.

Your family home was still standing, but inhabited by your distant relatives from your brother's side of the family. You hadn't tried to make a connection with them since you vanished forty years ago and didn't want to insert yourself into their lives now. You had everything you needed, you had a family, and you had Ben.

The canvases on the walls were born from what you found remaining in Philadelphia, the city that rose from the one you used to know so well. Each painting was an amalgamation of your memories of the Philadelphia from your youth painted in shades of gray and what replaced it, rose from the canvas in splashes of bold color as if rising from the ashes. It was one of your best shows, and judging by the chatter you had heard and how excited your agent and the curator was you knew that there weren't many canvases left over. Your favorite was hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room, the centerpiece of the entire show.

It was painted from the memory of the day Ben and you sat on the warm soft grass by the pond at Fairmount park. In the painting two people sat on the bank, the boy half turned to stare at the girl with a flower tucked into his jacket pocket and the girl half turned, her face pointed down focusing on a watercolor pad in her lap while her hair fell forward, but the audience could still see her smile and the boy's smirk. They sat in a haze of black and white while the new park swirled out from them in bold colors.

Ben hadn't seen it until you showed up to the gallery a few moments before the show opened. You'd kept it a surprise, only working on it whenever he was working, and his reaction was worth it. As soon as he saw it Ben had stopped dead in his tracks just within the front doors as if he couldn't believe it, his gaze focused on the picture. You'd asked him if he liked it and in response he had grabbed you and kissed you so fiercely in front of your agent and the curator that both of them walked away to give you some privacy. You were still buzzing from that kiss, well, the kiss and what Ben had done to you on the couch before you left your apartment together.

"I'm going to go get a drink." Ben glances in the direction of the bar before looking back at you. "Do you want something?"

"No, I'm okay right now. Thanks though."

He presses a kiss into the top of your head before he vanishes into the crowd. You prepare yourself for the wave of loss you feel whenever Ben leaves. It had only gotten worse after months of spending time together. When he went out of town it was almost unbearable, but he did try his best to keep you posted, by calling you whenever he could. Sometimes you worried that you needed him too much, that he thought you were being too clingy, but every time you tried to consciously pull back it was Ben that always doubled his efforts to be around you, almost as if he was trying to make up for you toning it down. It reassured you that Ben wanted you there and genuinely wanted to spend time with you.

"Y/n!" You hear a familiar voice say and you turn your head to see your friend Levi making his way through the crowd. His dark curly hair hangs over his shoulders in gentle waves and he's wearing a black button down shirt that he's rolled up to his elbows revealing the patchwork of ink covering every square inch of his golden skin. Levi was also an artist that showed at the gallery, which is how the two of you met. Over the years you had each gone to each other's shows and then out to dinner to celebrate. He was a good friend, but you knew he had feelings for you.

You had forgotten that he was going to be here, hadn't thought about it, and hadn't told Ben. An important thing that you should have told him because Levi is the man that you'd almost slept with.

It had almost happened two years ago and you had come to Levi's show, a collection of recycled sculptures that had stunned New York City. The two of you had gone out to dinner as you always did and after, Levi had leaned in to kiss your cheek to say goodbye, but you'd turned at the wrong moment and he'd caught your lips. The both of you had frozen outside the darkened restaurant, the sounds of the city rising around you, his dark brown eyes catching and holding your gaze. You don't know why you did it, maybe because you'd been lonely for so long or maybe because Rosemary had told you that you needed to start trying again, that she was worried about you being alone, so you kissed Levi.

You weren't sure how you ended up back at his apartment in his bed, but you'd stopped him just before you had sex. You told him that you couldn't do that, that you didn't think that you could be what he wanted, and that you were sorry. It had felt wrong to give him hope, only to take all away again. For you to do that had reminded you of the hope Ben had given you when you finally slept with him and how hollow you were when he broke your heart and told you that you meant nothing.

You refused to do that to someone else.

Levi had been confused, but he'd respected you, told you that you didn't have to apologize for anything. Unfortunately since then it had been a little bit awkward, because you knew he still had feelings for you, not to mention he'd seen you naked.

"Levi!" You smile back at him

He pulls you in for a hug, holding on to you for a second longer than he should. "How are you? I haven't seen you around and you didn't come to my show. I was worried."

"Oh I was out of town for a little bit." You wave a hand. "Kinda last minute."

"Oh. Well, I guess you weren't too busy for this." He gestures to the canvases on the walls. "They're gorgeous. I think this is my favorite show of yours."

"You say that after every show."

"And you say that at every one of my shows."

"Because it's true." You roll your eyes at Levi. "Your work gets better with age-"

"I could say the same thing to you." Levi runs a hand through his tangled dark hair. "Come on, you have to tell me the truth."

"What?"

"Were you an art prodigy or something? You can't be much older than me and your work is just insanely mind-altering."

If only he knew.

"Nope. I've just been practicing a long time." You smile to yourself at the inside joke.

"So unfair. I hate you, you know that right." Levi grins.

"Oh please. If anything I should hate you. I've never been good with sculpture."

"I told you that I would be available for lessons anytime."

"I'll think about it."

Levi glances around the room at all the people. "You know, I think they make a bigger deal about your shows than mine."

"Green isn't a good color on you Levi." You snort at him.

He only smiles. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

You freeze. It was the same thing that Ben had asked you moments ago before Levi showed up. Except when Ben said it you couldn’t help but smile and blush, but when Levi said it, it just was weird. "No. But it's alright." You smile awkwardly.

"Did you-" He clears his throat sensing the shift in conversation. "Did you want to get dinner after your show?"

The two of you hadn't had dinner since the incident two years ago, instead you had gone for coffee, because it felt less intimate and more like something the two of you could do as friends. You didn’t think that you would fall into bed with him if you were fully caffeinated. But it still made you feel bad because you thought you were leading him on, even when you told him exactly what you wanted.

"I know we haven’t in a while, but I miss you." Levi's eyes soften. "I know that what happened was a little awkward, but we can still be friends. Or maybe we can talk this out and you can tell me why you think doing this would be bad.” He gestures between the two of you. “Because we have so much in common and I really like you. And I think you do like me, but you just won't admit it-“

"Levi-" You begin to say, trying to think of a way to let him down easy, again, because he still didn’t seem to understand.

Ben's muscular arm weaves around your waist, pulling your hips back into his where he stands behind you as soon as you begin to answer, the warmth of his body like a shock to your system. He's got a glass of scotch in his free hand and he's staring at Levi with an unreadable expression.

Ben kisses you on the cheek, lingering for a second too long for it to be casual, blatantly marking his territory.

"What did I miss?" Ben says it as if he couldn’t hear the entire conversation from the bar, but you knew he had.

Levi’s eyes widen at Ben’s appearance and flick to you as if looking for an answer. Ben downs the glass in one gulp, placing it on the tray of a waiter who passes by.

“Ben, this is my friend Levi. Levi this is-“

You hesitate for a moment. Calling Ben your boyfriend felt wrong sometimes. Your relationship felt different to just say that he was your boyfriend, it didn’t seem to be enough, not to mention you felt like Ben was a little old to be your boyfriend, just as you felt a little old to be his girlfriend. Calling him your everything felt more appropriate, but it was too intimate for someone to know other than Ben.

“Ben.” Ben says extending his free hand to grasp Levi’s in a death grip, and you see Levi wince sightly when Ben tightens his grip. “Her husband.”

If you’d been drinking something you would have done a spit take right then and there. The word coming out of Ben’s mouth was foreign and so out of the blue the two of you might as well be swimming in the middle of a cobalt colored sea. The two of you hadn't spoken about that at all. It had never come up in conversation, even when the two of you took a walk around Rosemary's block and passed a jewelry store with a display of engagement rings. In fact the only time that you'd mentioned that you wanted to marry someone was the night that Ben almost killed Noir forty years ago and Ben made a joke about the two of you getting married. It had hurt when he did, it felt like he was mocking you, like he thought that it wasn't important.

That night you'd asked Ben if he wanted to marry someone and he said "maybe." You weren't sure if that was because Ben didn't believe in marriage or if he thought it wasn’t necessary, but to you things like that were important. You were old-fashioned and you wanted to marry Ben, you wanted to be his wife, but Ben hadn't proposed or stated that he wanted to marry you.

That could be your insecurity about being too clingy or your insecurity that Ben would pull away from you rising all over again, but you weren't sure if Ben cared about being your husband.

And yes maybe you were expecting a proposal sometime in the future, but it still hadn't happened and a part of you was worried that because it had not happened yet, it never would. Mostly because you couldn't think of what he was waiting for. He'd said that he never wanted to leave you ever again, told you that he wanted to give you everything you wanted, told you that he'd never love anyone else the way that he loved you, and yet there hadn't been talk to marriage. Not to mention you had told him that you loved him and that you'd never leave him and that you couldn't live without him.

Yes, you were living together, sharing a bank account, and spending every waking moment of your lives together, but there had been no discussion about him marrying you.

Which is odd because why did he tell Levi that we were married? Was he just trying to think of something official to make him back off?

Levi's eyes widen with the word "husband" his eyes darting to you in surprise. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that you got married, congratulations." It doesn't sound sincere, but if Ben hears the insincerity, he ignores it.

"Thanks Levi." Ben smiles wider, pulling you tighter against his side. "It's fairly recent. We're still in that Honeymoon Phase, you know how it is." Ben's smile turns more into a smirk. "Kinda hard to leave the apartment if you know what I mean, champ. Could barely get her to this thing."

Your entire face flushes bright red in embarrassment, struck speechless. You knew Ben better than anyone and you knew that he was doing this because he was jealous, but it didn’t make it any less embarrassing or any less Levi's business what Ben and you did in your apartment. Ben also didn't have anything to be jealous about, Levi was nothing compared to him, no one was compared to Ben, not when you were children and not now. You were sure that you'd told him that over and over again.

"Oh-um-" Levi clears his throat awkwardly, his own cheeks the same color of crimson of yours. "Yeah, well-"

"But if you still want to have dinner, I'm sure my wife and I could work out something." Ben smiles enjoying how frazzled Levi is.

You try not to flinch when Ben says the word "wife." "Ben-" You begin, hoping to give Levi a way out.

"Well, I'll have to check my schedule. I've got a show coming up and well-" Levi fumbles. "I'll see you." He turns and vanishes into the crowd of people flocking to your paintings.

Ben chuckles to himself. "He couldn't get out of here fast enough could he?"

You don't answer him. Ben's arm is around your waist, the warmth of his skin diffusing through his suit jacket and your dress into your body, but you don't feel the comfort you did when he first put it around you.

"You didn't have to do that." You say.

"Yes I did. He was trying to come on to my girl and we both know how much I hate sharing sweetheart." Ben replies light heartedly and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Uh-huh." You look up at him. "So, I'm your wife? Funny I don't remember our wedding."

Ben's smile fades for a minute, clearing his throat. "He wants to fuck you. I was just trying to-"

"He's my friend Ben. We've been friends since I started showing in this gallery."

"He asked you to dinner."

"We've been to dinner before. We sometimes go out after the shows." You reply vaguely.

“You went out with him?” His eyebrows furrow together in confusion.

“No. We had dinner as friends. I recall you and I having dinner as friend a lot.” You say, not about to admit to Ben that you almost slept with Levi. You knew that particular piece of information was unneeded and would only upset him.

“That’s different!” Ben scoffs.

“Why is that different?” You pull back from him, letting his arm fall from your waist as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Because we both already were in love with one another!” Ben says it matter-of-factly as if it's the most obvious answer in the entire world.

"What? That doesn't make it a date!"

Wait, did he think that all those times we went to dinner were dates? Has Ben just been thinking that we were going out all these years? Is he freaking crazy? He doesn't have a right to think that way, not when he was sleeping his way through every major city in America.

"Yes it does."

"So you're telling me all those years that we spent together we were dating? And that you chasing after every woman who crossed your path was you what? Us having an open relationship?"

Ben narrows his eyes. "That's not what I'm saying."

"I mean, it kind of is. You think that just because we loved one another and went out to get food it was a date."

"No. I mean that it's different because you loved me and I loved you!"

"Ben-"

“Did you fuck him?” Ben's jaw locks, anger flashing in his eyes as he changes the subject.

Your mouth drops open in shock. "What? No. I told you that I've never been with anyone else, only you. I wouldn't lie about something like that-"

Does he really think that I would lie about that?

Ben's body stiffens and you see the dots connect inside his mind, green eyes hardening to a solid chunk of unyielding jade. "Is that the guy you almost slept with?" His gaze turns murderous.

"Ben-"

Ben's head swivels to glare at where Levi is standing across the room from the two of you speaking to someone else about his work. You can practically see the gears turning in Ben's head as he thinks of all the ways that he can kill him.

Truthfully you knew that Ben had a tendency to get jealous, had known it since the night Howard and you were dancing together, but you didn’t think that he deserved to be jealous about this.

I thought he was dead. I was trying to move on.. AND I didn’t sleep with him. Not to mention Ben and I weren't together. It's not like I was cheating on him or something.

"Why are you getting so angry? I wasn't cheating on you, we weren't together. And I didn't sleep with him."

"But he fucking touched you." Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at the back of Levi's head and you know that if Ben had laser vision Levi would be dead.

"He touched me two years ago! You're being ridiculous. I didn't go on a murder rampage through New York City whenever you slept with someone. If I did that there wouldn't be anymore women left in the state of New York."

"I am not being ridiculous!" He snaps eyes flashing back to you.

"Okay you've got to calm down."

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down."

"I don't understand why you're getting so angry about something that didn't happen. Not to mention it's me that has the right to be angry!"

"Why?"

"Because this," You wave your hand around the gallery. "Is my job and that," You point at Levi "Is kind of my coworker and you embarrassed me!"

"What? How the fuck did I embarrass you?" Ben was trying to keep his voice down, but you knew that it was becoming difficult for him.

"Well, call me crazy, but I don't want to talk about my sex life with someone else. Not to mention you had no right to lie to him. I get that you get jealous, but what you did was uncalled for."

"What in the actual fuck are you talking about?" His hands are clenched into fists at his sides so tightly that the skin stretched tight over his knuckles is white.

"We aren't married Ben. We live together. Those are two different things."

"It's not that different." Ben's shoulders fall and you see something flash for just a moment in his eyes that looks like disappointment.

Does he really think that living together and being together is the same as being marriage? As making a life-long commitment to someone? I mean I want to be married to him because I want to make that promise to him, want to bind myself to him because he's the only man that I've ever loved and I ever will love. I want to be his wife because I can't see my life without him in it.

"It is to me."

"But-"

"But what?" You scoff.

"Well we-" Ben's eyebrows furrow as he tries to find the right words, but he comes up empty handed.

"The only time that you've ever brought up marriage was when you were drunk off your ass on my couch after Noir, when you brought up Howard and then made a joke about the two of us getting married!"

"I mean, it wasn't completely a joke and I told you that I wasn't that drunk." Ben frowns. "And that doesn’t mean anything!"

"What do you mean it doesn’t mean anything? To me it does. Making that promise to someone, making a vow to them, binding yourself to them and saying those words aloud in front of everyone you love to someone means something to me. And I've told you that. I've told you what I wanted." You look up at him for a moment, before you realize something. It creeps along your skin like the first frost on a window pane. "Wait, are you saying that the idea of marriage doesn't mean anything to you? That you don't want to marry me?"

"Sweetheart wait a minute." Ben reaches out for you, but you take a shaky step back from him.

“What are we doing?”

“Huh?”

“I mean really. What are we doing?" Your voice is barely a whisper, but you know that Ben can hear you. Emotion makes your voice wobble as you stand there and look at him. He looks just as devastatingly handsome as he always does, but something lurks in his eyes that you can't place.

Deep down you had believed that Ben wanted to marry you, but maybe he was just waiting for the right moment, but now you weren't sure. Based on everything he'd said in the last minute you were starting to think that Ben didn't want to marry you.

If marriage doesn't mean anything to him, then does that mean he doesn't want to marry me? And then where is this going? I know that I want to get married and if he doesn't does that mean I'm not his forever?

"What do you mean?" The look on his face shifts into something else, something that looks surprisingly like fear, and to see that on Ben's face was physically jarring.

"If we're not going to get married then why are doing this? Why are we-" You look around the room, suddenly cold. "Ben, why are we together?"

You knew that you loved Ben more than anything and that you wanted to be apart of his life forever, that you wanted Ben to be your always. You wanted to say those words to Ben, to make that vow to love and cherish him for the rest of your life, but he didn't want to make them to you. Suddenly you felt like the stupid little girl that lived in Philadelphia and always did what you were told the one that watched her best friend make out with girls like Missy Callahan and longed to be with him.

"Sweetheart-" Ben says, stepping forward to touch you again, but you pull away from him. "Wait-" The tone of his voice is thick with emotion, gruff, just a rumble.

“I think you should leave." You say it, but your voice sounds hollow and far away.

It was the first time that you’d told him to leave since the night he came back to you, the first time since he came back that you wanted to be alone. You wanted to think this over, because now that you knew how he felt about marriage all you could think of is the possibility of spending years together only to be traded out by a newer model because Ben never wanted to marry you.

The people around you laughing and chatting at each of your paintings all of a sudden seem to be mocking you. Their happiness and joy taunting the warring heartbreak and hurt that swirls in the pit of your stomach. You feel your mind begin to slip into the memory of when you walked out of the bathroom at the night of the premiere, when you wove through the people who were so happy to be there while your heart was breaking. When it felt like your world was ending, and honestly, the feeling that you have now feels almost too similar to ignore.

"No I want to talk about this. I don’t want to leave.”

"I want you to." You lock eyes with him, fighting the urge to cry. "I need some time and I don't think it's a good idea for you to be here right now."

"But-" Ben's eyes haven't left you.

"Please go."

"Sweetheart-“

“No." You say sharply. "I think it would be better if you just went home. You wanted to anyway.” You let out a shaky breath, feeling your heart squeeze in your chest. "And this isn't the place for us to talk about this."

“Not because I didn’t want to be with you. I wanted to go home with you.” He emphasizes and reaches for your hand, but you move it away from him. Ben winces as if it hurts for him to be unable to touch you. Given what he'd confessed to you in the past you knew it was true.

“No I-“ You shake your head, tears burning against your eyes. “I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?”

“I can’t be with you if I’m not your forever. If you don't want to marry me. I-” Your eyes lock with his, hurt and heartbreak clamping around your heart in a vice. “So please just go.”

"Let me explain."

"No. I need to be alone."

“Sweetheart-“

“How many times do I have to say it? I want you to leave!”

The people around you turn to look at where Ben and you are standing, hearing your final words ring in the air between the two of you.

Ben freezes, something vulnerable crossing over his face before his expression hardens into the one that was more familiar. “Fine.”

And as he walks away, weaving through the people that stand at every canvas, you try not to feel the pit open up beneath your feet ready to swallow your broken heart whole.

When you get home the apartment is cold and dark, the shadows of your living room lengthening with every step you take towards the dark hallway and what lies beyond. Hurt, sadness, and remorse creep along your skin like a spider, it's spiderweb clinging to your body and ensnaring you like a wiggling fly in it's grasp. There was no warmth, only the cold chill of fear of what you’d find when you entered your shared bedroom.

Ben's cologne was stale, hanging in the air, but it wasn't fresh, just a reminder, and you knew deep down it was because he wasn't here. But somewhere you clung on with bloodied fingertips hoping and praying that he was.

You'd spent the rest of the evening nursing a glass of red wine, fiddling with your necklace, and talking with anyone who came up to you about the paintings, but you lacked the enthusiasm you should have.

Nothing else seemed to matter, not after the fight you'd had with Ben, and standing amongst your creations felt frivolous, especially when everything you said to him rang in your ears.

At the end of the night you'd stood at the centerpiece, looking at the familiar brushstrokes and splashes of color of the picture of Ben and you sitting on the bank of a pond while tears crept along your cheeks.

Your agent had taken your tears as tears of joy, happy that you’d sold out your show, but gazing up at the painting you regretted it's sale. It made you feel like a part of you was being sold, as if the memory you had of that day would go with the painting to it's new owner leaving you with nothing.

You'd realized as the night wore on how stupid you'd been. You wished that you could go back and apologize for everything you said to Ben, because it didn't matter, nothing else mattered to you but Ben. And you hated yourself for telling him to leave, not when you knew how much he hated it when you told him to go and when you knew after all these years he still struggled with the idea that you didn't want him with you, when in reality being without him made you feel as if you were drowning.

And right now in the aftermath of the fight, you could feel the seaweed tangling around your ankle to pull you under.

As you stood there gazing up at the painting you'd realized that maybe Ben really did think the two of you were married and maybe deep down you knew that. That it wasn't about saying those vows in an official ceremony, it was about everything the two of you said to one another every day since he came back, it was about the promises that Ben made and kept, and it was about everything the two of you had been through over the years.

A stupid ceremony and certificate didn't matter to you, not if it stood in the way of Ben and you. You'd graciously take everything he had to give you for the rest of your life, and you knew that Ben felt the same way. You knew that he wasn't going to leave you, wasn't going to cheat on you with someone else, and wasn't going to turn his back on you. Not after everything the two of you had gone through and not when you knew how much Ben loved you.

That was what you wanted to say to him now, because you felt so stupid that you yelled at him. To tell him that none of it mattered, that the only thing that mattered to you was him.

The urge to throw up surges into the back of your throat as you creep down the hallway, but when you open the bedroom door you see that the bed is empty. A cold hands traces it's way down your vertebrae bringing with it the chill of fear that you'd done it, you'd finally made Ben want to leave you, that he was fed up and he was gone for good.

You almost don't make it to the bathroom sink before you throw up the two glasses of wine you drank, the sour taste of bile and alcohol burning your throat as your hands tighten on the cool lip of the marble vanity. Sweat and tears streak down your red face as a shudder works it's way through your body.

You'd hoped that he'd be in bed, the thought was optimistic at best, but you knew that Ben couldn't go to bed without you. Even when you were up late painting Ben would always pull you away to come to bed, because he needed you there, he wanted you beside him as he drifted off, holding you close against his chest and molding his body around yours. When Ben went away for work and was gone for days, he always came back with dark circles under his eyes, and you knew he didn't sleep, because Ben couldn't sleep without you.

You could feel the ghost of his touch against your skin, causing more tears to crest and fall down your cheeks and another shudder shake your body.

You scramble to find your phone where you placed it on the counter beside you. The selfie of the two of you on your home screen pressed cheek to cheek almost mocking before you swipe your thumb frantically to find his contact. You hold it up to your ear listening to the line ring and each time it does, it's like another nail in the coffin, because Ben doesn't answer.

When the voicemail starts you're not really sure what to say.

"Hey it's me-" You clear your throat, but it does little to hide the sob. "I just got home and you're not here and I miss you." Your voice breaks. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that to you or made a big deal about it, please Ben just come home. I was being stupid and I don't want to live without-"

The message is cut off and you stand there with the phone pressed into your cheek for another minute, unable to put it down. You feel it crunch in your hand as you lose control, crying harder as you stand there in front of your vanity trying desperately not to feel like this is the end and Ben was never coming back.

The shower you take is longer than you intended, because you zone out halfway through and it's only when the water runs cold that you realize you need to get out. It's been over an hour since you got home, almost past one in the morning, but Ben still isn't there.

Instead of putting on one of your shirts you put on a pair of panties and you grab an oversized cotton shirt of Ben's that hangs mid-thigh, inhaling the familiar scent and trying to find some comfort, but all it does is remind you that he's gone and nothing compares to when he's here with you.

When you slide into bed, it's cold, and fear begins to trickle along your skin, fear that Ben was never coming back and the last thing you'd ever say to him was that you couldn't be with him and you wanted him to leave.

Something rough works it's way down your arm in a gentle motion, stirring you from sleep. One look at the alarm clock on your bedside table reveals that it's well past four in the morning. You didn't remember falling asleep all you remembered was crawling into bed and hugging Ben's pillow to your chest wishing that it was him.

You blink your eyes to adjust to the darkness, noticing a dark figure sitting on the edge of your side of the bed staring down at you. Ben's green eyes catch in the light that comes from the cracked bathroom door, flashing dark green in the mist of darkness that shrouds his body from the rest of the light. He's wearing the white button down shirt, but his suit coat and tie are missing. The first few buttons are unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing freckled skin. His hand is tracing it's way over your arm, the roughness of his palm against your skin familiar, warm and comforting.

"Ben?" Your voice is hoarse and broken, for a moment unsure if this is a dream and he's not really here.

He doesn't say anything.

"Ben!" You practically shout it this time and surge upwards out of the bed to wrap your arms around his body so tightly that you think you hear the cracking of bone, but you can't control yourself now. Not when he's warm and he's here, not when he came back despite what you yelled at him.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did.” Tears were streaking down your face where it’s buried against the smooth slope his neck, saturating his dress shirt. “ I don’t want to lose you over something stupid like that.” You pull back to cup his cheeks taking in a shaky breath as you lean your forehead against his, memorizing the familiar edges you love so much. Even as close as you were to him you wanted more, you always wanted more. “I love you, only you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone, more than I ever will love anyone. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry that I asked you to leave, I don’t want you to leave ever again. Whenever you’re not here it’s cold and colorless and I don’t want to live my life like that ever.” Your body shakes with sobs as you hold Ben tighter against you, afraid that he’ll vanish before your very eyes. “You and me together is enough for me. It’ll always be enough for me. We don’t have to-“

“It’s not enough for me.” Ben interrupts, his eyes not leaving your face. His expression is unreadable, the soft plains of his face sharpening in the moonlight that seeps through the bottom of the curtains of your shared bedroom.

“What?” You gasp and could feel your heart seize in your chest and your throat tighten in fear.

I can’t lose him, not again, not over a stupid argument that doesn’t mean anything when Ben means everything.

“This.” He clears his throat and gestures between the two of you. “Us being together like this, it’s not enough for me.”

It feels like you'd taken a bullet to the chest again, a sickening jolt back, and a sharp pain that follows as everything you know is stripped away. You're sure that you're about to break down into nothing, your heart crumbling in your hands as you try to hold it out to him and he turns away from you. Him saying those words to you made you feel like you had nothing left, because to know that you had him and lost him hurt more than knowing what it was like not to have him as completely as you had for the past five months.

"Ben please. I'm sorry I-" You sob, trying to cling to him, afraid to let him go, but he pulls away and stands up from the bed. "Don’t go please! Just tell me what I can do to make this right. Tell me how I can fix this." The words sound garbled as they exhale in one breath through tears and snot reaching for him frantically. "Please Ben I can't lose you-"

Ben takes your outstretched hand, gaze focused on your face. "Come on." He tugs gently, expecting you to follow him out of the bed.

"No, I want to talk about this. I don't want you to go!"

"Come on sweetheart." Ben encourages you quietly, tugging your hand once more, and this time you allow him to help you up from the bed.

You follow behind him, sobs shaking your shoulders because you're afraid Ben is taking you out to the living room to yell at you again, to tell you that he doesn't love you and you're going to find a packed bag.

But then Ben squeezes your hand to comfort you as you enter the living room and you stop dead in your tracks.

The entire room is covered in lavender, the kitchen counter, the coffee table in front of the plush leather couch, the large wooden table on the opposite side of the room that serves as your desk/workstation, and on the kitchen island broken up intermittently by candles that cast a soft honeyed light over the room. You gasp softly as Ben releases your hand, looking around the space with awe. You'd never seen so many bouquets of lavender in your entire life, each one sitting in a pretty glass vase, and in the center of the room stands one of your cherry wood colored easels holding the painting of Ben and you sitting on the bank of the pond.

You step closer to the painting, tracing the brush strokes with your eyes as you had earlier that night, reaching out to touch the edge, suddenly confused.

"Ben, what is this?" You turn to look at him, wiping the back of your hand across your face. You were sure that your eyes were puffy and that you were still covered in a layer of tears and snot, but you didn't care. Ben had seen you like this before and you were more worried about what was happening rather than how you looked.

You didn't understand what was happening, not when Ben came home so late and not when you had spent the entire night worried that he wasn't going to come back to you.

Ben is standing by the record player pushed up against the brick wall of your apartment that stands opposite your exhaustive collection of records and drops the needle. The song that begins to play is hauntingly familiar and you recognize it before Russ Columbo starts to sing.

"I can't forget the night I met you, That's all I'm dreaming of..."

It wasn't the first time that Ben and you had listened to this particular record, or danced together in the living room of your apartment in the quiet hours of the evening to "You Call It Madness, But I Call It Love." The song was filled with memories, some good, some bad that the two of you had shared over the years. The words heavy and familiar, the story much too similar to the one you shared with Ben.

A part of you is surprised that he chose to play it. You still didn't quite understand what was happening, you thought that Ben was breaking up with you, but this didn't feel like a ending.

"How did you get the painting? I sold it." You ask him.

"You made a promise to be faithful, By all the stars above…"

The song continues to play bringing memories of each time it did rising with the soft familiar swell of the music. A flash of you dancing for the first time with Ben flits across your mind bringing the usual warmth and happiness followed by the memory of your birthday when you danced together and it felt like no one else existed as if it were just the two of you left in a world where everyone else was gone.

"I know." Ben half-smiles. "I bought it."

"But why?"

"My heart is beating, For you constantly…"

He's still standing by the record player as if he's afraid to get closer to you. "Well, I've never bought any of your work and I wanted to be supportive." Ben shrugs. "And I didn't want someone else to have a piece of us Sweetheart, felt wrong."

"You're all I needed, And so I pleaded, Please come back to me…"

Your breath catches. It was the same thought you'd had when you were standing at the painting at the end of the night wishing that you hadn't sold it, wishing that you kept it for Ben and you.

"Look I-" Ben clears his throat. "I've- fuck- I’ve never had a way with words, you know that." He takes a cautionary step forward towards you as if he's afraid you'll run. "But I'm going to try my best here."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry."

"You made a plaything out of romance, What do you know of love…"

"Ben no, you don't have to apologize for anything." You close the distance between the two of you, taking his hands in yours to wash away any uncertainty Ben has about touching you. "It was me, it was all me and I shouldn't have said what I said and I shouldn’t have made you leave. I hate it when you leave. I-"

"Hey. Let me say this first." Ben's thumb rubs over the back of your hand, his eyes wide and an understanding smile on his face.

"At first, a slight suggestion, That grew to light my mind, Was the eternal question…"

"Okay." Your heart was stuttering in your chest, senses overwhelmed by the lavender that covered the room.

Ben looks down at your hands for a minute. "I'm sorry that I made you cry again. I hate it when you cry, especially when it's my fault. And I'm sorry that I made you think that I didn't want to marry you.” He almost whispers it and takes a deep breath. "When you asked me forty years ago if I wanted to marry anyone the only person that I could ever see myself marrying was you. Spending my life with you, waking up with you every morning, going to bed with you, and showing you how much you mean to me. And the truth is, it's all I've been thinking about since I got back, but I-" He swallows, still not looking up at you. "Fuck. I didn't think you'd say yes. "

"True love is hard to find…"

He wanted to marry me forty years ago?

Your eyes widen. "What? Why would you think that?”

Ben's green eyes flick up to yours for a moment, raising an eyebrow to remind you that he's trying to say something.

"Sorry." You murmur, tightening your hands around his.

"I don't deserve you, I never have. Fuck, it feels like my whole life I've been trying to earn you, but I never seem to come close." He sighs. "I've fucked up so many times and I've hurt people, killed others. I fucked up our friendship and I pushed you away, because I was-” Ben tighten his jaw as if it’s difficult to say the next words, “-Shit-" he murmurs the word under his breath before he continues, "scared to fail you and scared that I couldn't be what you wanted. I thought you deserved someone better, someone good, someone who wasn't such a fuck up like me, someone who you could love you the way that you deserve and I-" Ben swallows and takes another deep breath. "I spent my life chasing away everyone who tried because I hated the thought of you with someone else.”

"And in the day I found you, my love I had to share, I built my dreams around you…"

It hurt you to hear him say those things about himself, hurt you to see him still buckle under the pressure that his father put on his shoulders, and hurt you to see how little he thought of himself. Ben was one of the strongest people you knew, but even then you knew he needed you, and you'd spent your entire life making sure that you were there for him and you weren’t going to stop now.

"Somehow you made me care…"

"And yet every time I'm with you, you've never make it seem like I don't belong there. You don’t make me feel like a fuck up or a disappointment. You don’t turn your back on me or ignore the parts of me I tried to cover up for so long from everyone else. You see me, more than anyone has.” Ben murmurs, the smile on his face breaks something deep down inside of you and you can feel the tears begin to spill all over again. He traces a rough hand along the soft smooth edges of your face. Hands that had done painful over the years but were only gentle to you, hands that held you close, and treated you with love that only you were able to see. "You make me feel loved and I thought that I'd never have that, that I didn’t deserve it, but ever since I was eight years old you've forced yourself into my life and I can't imagine a world without you in it, I don't want to."

"Ben-" Your voice breaks with a sniffle, eyes brimming with fresh tears.

"Shh. I've still got a few more things." Ben smiles, brushing away a tear from your cheek. "You know my old man never gave me any advice that was worth a damn, but your dad did. He said that there's going to be a lot of women I run into and that most men pick from first glance the flashy ones that don’t last, the ones that aren't willing to stay for long, and the ones that care about all the wrong things. Your dad told me that I should pick someone that understands me better than I understand myself, someone who holds me accountable, someone that doesn't put up with any of my bullshit, someone to grow with, someone who loves me even if I believe they shouldn’t, and someone that makes me a better man." He chuckles under his breath. "And I knew exactly who he was talking about the minute he said it, because it's you sweetheart, it's always been you, from the moment you walked into that damn study and lied to my father about where I was."

"My heart is beating, For you constantly…"

The song is in full swing now, but you can barely hear it, all you can hear is Ben's steady heartbeat and yours beating together in tandem. The love you feel for him swelling in your chest with the music and with his words. You want so badly to pull him close and tell him how much you love him, how he's the only one, how he's everything you dreamed of, but you're trying not to interrupt him.

"Eighty years ago I made a mistake, I asked you to leave everything behind and come with me, because I couldn't lose you and because I couldn’t stand to see you with someone else. I didn't ask you to marry me, I didn't tell you how much you meant to me or that I loved you. I was selfish and I took advantage of our friendship. I strung you along all those fucking years, made you wait-"

"You didn’t take advantage of our friendship-“ You begin to say.

"Sweetheart please." He squeezes your hand and continues. "Forty years ago I made another mistake." He closes his eyes as if trying to forget for a moment, before he looks you in the eye once more. "I had everything I wanted for one night and then I fucking lost it. I treated you like you meant nothing to me. I threw you away. I said terrible things to push you away. I hurt you, and I will regret those things for the rest of my life, because it’s not true, you mean everything to me."

"You're all I needed, And so I pleaded, Please come back to me…"

You raise your free hand to his cheek. "I've forgiven you." You whisper and Ben leans into your hand.

"I know. And I don't deserve that, I don’t deserve you, I never have and I don’t think I ever will. You have meant more to me than anyone in my entire life. You are my family and my home. You have stood by me and loved me despite all the terrible shitty things I've done. You have seen me at my worst and you never left. Being your boyfriend isn’t enough for me. You being my girlfriend isn’t enough and frankly, it doesn’t feel like the right word for you not when you mean this much to me and not when you're the only person I need. So I'm asking you," Ben drops down on one knee, making your breath catch in your chest.

"Eighty years too late, to spend the rest of your life with me. Because I've spent the past forty without you and I don't want to spend another second regretting that I didn't do this eighty years ago. I'm asking you to chose me one more time, Sweetheart, and I promise that every day I will chose you every day for as long as I live. You said that you wanted to be my forever, well sweetheart, I can't imagine anything better." Ben swallows and reaches into his coat with his free hand, his right still holding on to yours, for a black suede box. "Will you marry me?"

You stand there for a moment stunned as he opens the box in his hand, gazing up at you like you're the sun as if you shone so brightly that the heavenly hosts bowed to your brilliance and he can't help but worship you. It's the same way that you saw the couple looking at each other the night Ben and you danced for the first time that continues to play in your silent apartment, bathed in the golden glow of candle light.

You gaze at Ben, eyes tracing the familiar face, seeing the old parts of him and the new ones that you'd come to love. You could see the boy you grew up with and the man he became, the same one you knew as a child and the man you fell in love with. The one who always put you first, who cared for you, protected you, and the one you thought you lost years ago.

The ring nestled in the black velvet is everything you imagined it to be. It's perfect, elegant, classic, it's you in every way, and it only proves to you again how well Ben knows you.

You could remember the day that Howard proposed, when all you felt was dread as he dropped to one knee in the dining room in front of your parents and revealed the ugliest piece of jewelry you’d ever seen, when he didn't make a grand gesture, didn’t profess his love to you, and didn’t make you feel special.

But Ben did. He always made you feel special, seen, loved, and appreciated. You refused to live another moment away from him and refused to deprive yourself of this indulgence, of him.

Ben had saved you more times than you could count and the day he took you away from Philadelphia was one of them. Away from a man who didn't love you, who didn't appreciate you, and who didn't think that you were worth more than a trophy to parade around a city.

You smile at the ring, tears glazing your eyes, because after all these years, you were right, Ben knew exactly the ring to get you and he knew exactly what to say to make everything else fade away into the past and have you hopeful for the coming future with him.

"Sweetheart?" Ben murmurs, looking suddenly worried and you realize that you haven’t given him an answer.

You look from the ring to the man you love with your entire being. "Took you long enough Benjamin."

Ben's smile makes you melt from the inside out. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes." You smile, vision blurring as Ben smiles even wider and puts the ring on your finger, before rising up from the ground to capture your lips against his as if he wishes for the two of you to fall in love all over again.

"There isn't anyone else Ben." You murmur against his lips. "There never has been and there never will be. All I want is you and me, forever."

Ben kisses you all over again, his hands holding you so tight against his chest that it’s almost painful, your own tangled in his hair, but you can't stop and you don't want him to either. Not when this was what you wished for, not when this was what you wanted for so long and you thought you'd never had, and not when you'd thought you'd lost him.

"Then I'll give it to you sweetheart." Ben presses his forehead against yours, his eyes shining. "I'll give you forever."

"And you call it madness, Oh but I call it love…"

A/n: I'm not crying... I lied, I am BIG time. Goodness, finishing this series is like saying goodbye to characters that feel like my children. Honestly, I can’t believe that we've finally all made it here, but here it is. There are so many people that I want to thank, too many to name, those who have been here from the beginning and those who came later, people who's constant comments, reblogs, and encouragements made me turn this story from one chapter into a multi-chapter fic. There are just so many wonderful people that I've interacted with on this site that made me want to continue writing and helped me find confidence in how I wrote and this fic is for them.

As always thank you so much for reading! This series will be continued in the form of some one-shots that I am plotting out currently and I have a lot of really cute ideas and some that are more angsty. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for future fics in this universe. ❤️🥰

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126 @simplyfixated @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444

@lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn

@lifeonawhim @liuope @brynanna @carpenterswife

@xxannyxx

@babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit @valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm

@lil-soup @ej13928 @topstory21 @boywivlove

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@vivre-dans-la-nuit @megara0224 @daisy-the-quake @thesilmarillionblog @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@libby99hb @peachhiz @tinydancer40 @tinystarfishgalaxy

@jvanilly

@libby99hb @lunaticgurly @i-am-typing @52ndstreeet

@anna6307

@pixviee @soldiergrimes @ladysparkles78 @ahoytothestorm

@octoazzy @modiddys-blog @marmie-noir @practicallylivesonline

@impala67stellawinchester

@everlove @dangerousgardenchild

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

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sashi-ya · 2 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

THE PRICE OF YOUR FREEDOM 💦 TRAFALGAR LAW X GN! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 28: SHIBARI

🐙 requested by: Anonymous. Trafalgar Law for day 28 shibari? With gender neutral reader or fem reader it's fine. Can Law be the one who tied up instead the reader? ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. law is tied up. jerking off. exchanging "sex" for freedom. dominant gn! reader. maybe sex slave Law. 🐙 wc: 1,1k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

With cords around his wrists, the intruder hangs on a room that lacks light. Humid, even smelly. The walls reminds him of a dungeon, and, in fact, he is not wrong.

“They told me you were trying to sneak into my island, pirate” you spit, opening the doors that blind the intruder with a sudden burst of light coming through.

“Fuck you, bitch” he grunts. A man so handsome, covered in tattoos. His muscles are noticeable, he is lean, and his skin has a caramel tint. Oh, what an interesting prey your subordinates just caught.

“That is not the proper way to refer to me, sweet boy…” you giggle, coming closer to his body. Those tight jeans around long, long legs are delicious to look at. But the protruding hipbones are more. Your index reaches for his stomach; with abs spasming to your touch, he lets you know he is more than sensitive to it… oh, are you getting hard just by my simple touch?

“What are these tattoos, pirate? What do they mean?” you ask, coming even closer to his body. Your index still tracing up and around the curls of black ink, bumping with cords that also garnish his thorax.

He looks to the side, a golden hoop on his ear reflects the warm light of torches outside… he isn’t disclosing any good information.

“Ah… come on! Tell me something! I just wanna get to know you, I don’t really plan on hurting you… plus, I know your name… aren’t you…” you laugh, coming closer to his ear as you get on tippy toes and your palms rest on his chest. “…Trafalgar Law? Cooperate with me, come on… I know you are strong” you continue.

He immediately looks at you; he burns holes into your eyes with a glacial look that could freeze you up. An everlasting frown, sweet dark circles…

“What do you want?” he asks, this time serious and more annoyed than before.

You walk away, just a little, with your index closer to your lips and your eyes wondering the ceiling as you act like you are thinking about something.

“Mhh… I am not exactly sure, cause you know… I was just minding my own business when you appeared on the coast of my island… to be fair, you should be the one telling me…also, you looked pretty beaten up” you smirk, showing him something he hasn’t probably noticed yet; gauze patching up here and there, bruises all over, and dry blood that hasn’t been cleaned up properly yet.

Law knows, exactly, what had happened to him. Thing is, he won’t tell you. However, he is willing to negotiate; he is aware the cords aren’t simply cords and that they are, indeed, made of thousands of thin kairoseki filaments.

“Tell me, what do you want? I am willing to negotiate my freedom” he mutters; Law wants to be out of this situation as fast as possible. You smirk and then bite your lower lip; lust takes over, your body getting warmer, your skin bumpier.

“Well, I think you are delicious… what do you have for me? What is the cost of your freedom, Trafalgar Law?”

“Heh, are you that desperate you need to force men?” he asks -insults- you.

This time you scoff; a big smile that’s closer to a demon’s scares him a little bit. You come closer; you don’t walk, you seem to crawl like a venomous snake… with a swift motion, your hand lands on his hardness. A bulge that’s been getting more and more noticeable the more you spoke.

“Are you sure I am the desperate one? What’s with this, mh? Aren’t you a little bit too hard?” you ask into his ear, biting his earlobe right after.

Law gasps a little; probably he wasn’t ready for that sudden touch… but he wants more…

You pull from a cord that hangs behind him, lifting his whole body over the ground. Just a little, enough for his feet to barely graze the floor with the tip of his boots. The cords properly tied around his body carve into his flesh, causing Law to grimace in pain if any part would touch a bruise.

“Does it hurt, Law-san?” you inquire, sliding your index in between a cord and his skin at his ribs level.

“You want my body? Take it” he huffs, squirming when your hand reaches for his stomach from behind.

You smile; you were never using his body if he wasn’t expressly asking for it… With a bite on his side, and a hand sliding up his chest getting underneath the cords on his pecs, you give him what he had been asking for.

His jeans were easy to take off; those slid down and got tangled around his ankles. Boxer briefs of slightly funny heart patterns, show staining from precum sprouting and his sex, that throbs, awaits for your silky hands…

“You want my hands around your sex, Law-san?” you ask, kissing his neck with soft, butterfly pecks.

“That’s the price of my freedom?” he asks, slightly moving his hips back and forth.

“That’s something that is up to you to decide…” you giggle, sliding your hand into his underwear. Hot to the touch, wet and hard is how it feels… pulsating sex in between your hand, that has a little surprise right at the tip; a cold metallic ring.

As you begin to pump, pleased with the soft whimpering coming out of his mouth, his body moves with your jerking off delight; hanging from the ceiling, trembling, moving and with each move carving those debilitating ropes more and more into his caramel skin… ah, delicious!

Law’s boxer briefs also fall, and he wishes his whole body would also fall… his wrists, become redder and painful, the more he squirms to your touch.

You play with your palm on top of his tip, moving the little piercing, getting his gland more and more aroused. It’s so good to see this strong Yonko willing to fuck your hand, as he pays for his “freedom”.

So close, so close… so close until it bursts with grunts and not so manly whimpers… and you leave him there, dripping cum on the floor and into his pants.

“I’ll be back soon, Law-chan” “Free me, (Name)-ya!” “ah... you know my name? then I am sure you don’t want me to do it, right? A simple orgasm is not the price of your freedom… Trafalgar D. Water Law ~”

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l0vergirlsw0rld · 4 months ago

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adam designated driver

intoxicated!readerxcaretaker!adam

a/n: adam driver is maybe like the love of my life I hope he reads well. this is also an older fic but maybe 2020-ish?

wc: 2.3k

18+ MDNI | no smut but sexual themes

summary: Y/N went out and had a few too many, when trying to call a taxi driver, she taps her friend adam's contact instead.

"Can I get a whiskey sour?!"You managed to shout over the pulsating bass.

The bartender nodded, turning around to grab the bottles he needed.

He was in his mid-twenties, sporting a thick beard and jewelry: trendy black stretchers, multiple rings on his fingers, and bead bracelets that swung from his wrists as he shook the shaker vigorously.

You observed his rings up close as slid your fifth drink of the night in front of you. You shouted a 'thank you' and passed him the money. The chilled glass froze your palm as you grabbed it. You winced hissed.

You were already intoxicated, which resulted in you feeling warmer than usual. You began to drink your cocktail, wincing from the prominent bourbon taste hitting your tongue.

Turning to the dance floor on your bar stool, you observed your friends dancing provocatively in front of the men.

They would grind on each other and kiss for the sake of attention as if their clothing alone wouldn't draw attention, and it would work every time. Men who were complete strangers would buy you and your friends multiple rounds throughout the night hoping to get lucky.

Tonight, you all wore matching tight-fitted black mini skirts and tops that barely covered your chest. Your outfit in question was uncomfortable, to say the least, but it was like wearing a costume. When you'd dress like that, it was as if you were a new person, for one night. You immediately gained a newfound confidence and your adventurous side would come out to play.

You grinned against your glass, chuckling to yourself.

How you loved being a woman.

You scootch off the seat, stumbling, trying to find your footing. Your sense of balance was terrible when you were drunk and your heels did not help with that at the moment.

Eventually, you made your way to your friends on the dance floor, joining the small circle to include yourself again.

"Y/N! There you are, I missed you!" Your little blonde friend threw herself on you. You caught her in your arms, laughing.

The six of you danced to the beat. Hips swaying, arms in the air, hair flying everywhere. You could feel the blood pumping through your veins, and sweat forming on your forehead, but you didn't care you were having so much fun.

our arms were raised in a state of intoxicated freedom as you tried to keep up with your friends, whose energy seemed endless.

Your fingertips tingled as you waved your hands to the rhythm, and your feet grew numb from the constant stomping.

Your head felt heavy on your neck, and your eyelids became harder to keep open. You were running out of breath.

Your movements turned sloppy as your body began to fatigue, even though your mind insisted you had more energy than you actually did. Your chest heaved, struggling to breathe in the tight top.

A couple hours went by and the club slowly began to empty out as people left in small crowds. The night was approaching its end.

You were seated in a booth with fewer friends, all of you trying to call your drives home.

Your vision was blurry as you fiddled with your phone, trying to hold it properly.

The aggressive blue light blinded you. You squinted, opening your contacts app.

A few scrolls down and you found your usual Taxi Driver's phone number.

You pressed it, bringing your phone close to your ear. The ringing echoed loudly in your ears as you drunkenly awaited a response. He finally answered.

"Ugh-mkay, uh I'm at thuh Sound Night Club.... on Las Palmas, can you cohme get me? I'm fuckhing drunhk." You slurred into the phone mic.

After a few exchanges, you hung up. "Welp ladies, my taxi issa comin soon so I gotta wait outside." You stood, steadying yourself on the table. You draped your jacket over your shoulders, clinging your wallet and phone to your chest. You gave them each a kiss on the cheek and said your goodbyes.

Your heels padded on the tacky red carpet as you slowly made your way to the entrance. Before leaving you wished the bouncer a good night. "It's not my birthday, but thank you." He replied. You just smiled, confused.

You pushed the heavy doors open, only to be greeted with a freezing gust of air. Your exposed legs were now covered in chills. The street lights illuminated your flushed cheeks; how nice. You leaned your back against the club's brick wall and waited for your Taxi.

A shiny black Camaro pulled up to the curb, flashing its lights and honking its horn. You stayed put, wondering whose ride it was. It then honked again.

You just observed silently.

The driver's door opened and a tall dark man rose from the car. "Y/N?" He shouted. You jumped slightly. This wasn't your taxi driver: You wondered who the man was, and how he knew your name.

Fucking trouble, that's who.

The unknown man was shouting your name. You looked around to see if anyone else was outside that you could ask for help; not one.

Fuck it, you thought.

You took a run for it, your cheap heels clicking on the cement sidewalks, and you gripped all of your belongings as if your life depended on it, and at that moment it did.

The streets of Los Angeles were dangerous at this time of night, and you were the desired victim; a drunk, helpless, pretty girl in slutty clothing.

So much for being a woman!

The cold air breezed through your product-filled hair as you ran down an alley, only to be cornered by the car again.

You stopped in your tracks, shocked. Your heart pounded in your ears and your mouth was now dryer than a desert. You couldn't find your voice to yell for help.

The man got out again and started running after you, leaving his door open. The car lights blinded you, you could only see his tall shadow approaching you, quickly.

You once again tried to make a run for it but your heel fell through a manhole cover. You rolled your ankle and fell to your knees, your full weight hitting the solid pavement. You groaned in pain. The man rushed to your sides, as you cried on your hands and knees.

This was the end.

"Y/N! What were you thinking? You could've gotten seriously hurt! You could've gotten hit by a fucking car!!" The familiar voice gritted with rage. You lifted your head trying to identify this strange individual's face, only to reveal the face of your friend, Adam.

"Adam? Why the fuhhck are yohu trying to kidhnap me for?" You slurred, trying to push away from his grip. "Kidnap? What? -Y/N, you called me from the club asking me to pick you up." He raised an angry eyebrow.

You just broke down in tears, feeling lost and confused.

"You're too drunk." He grumbled, shaking his head.

"nO, I called, Denis. My usual taxi." You squinted, pulling out your phone to show him. Adam plucked the phone from your grasp and examined the phone.

"Y/N, it says Driver. Driver, Adam." He sighed impatiently.

"Oh, well, i swearr thaht I actually talked to hi-WOah!" Adam had cut you off by picking you up bridal style from the ground.

"Let me down!" You attempted to squirm but your lack of energy or control didn't allow you to do so.

"No, Y/N. You hurt your ankle. Now stop whining and let me take care of you. It's late- It's 4 in the fucking morning and you're acting like a child." He knelt down to grab your jacket that was at his feet and proceeded to place you on the passenger side of his car.

He then resumed his place at the wheel and sped off to his apartment. His car hummed loudly down the silent streets.

During the drive, you were quiet, your scraped knees were pulled to your chest and you faced your window, observing the lights that flashed by as Adam sped through the neighbourhood.

You began to feel your soberness again because all the adrenaline was gone and the pain was now settling in.

Adam pulled into the parking garage and stopped the car in his usual spot. He turned off his vehicle and picked you up once more, this time with less anger. You toyed with the collar of his shirt as he carried you to his door. He had so many birthmarks on his neck.

Arriving at 11B, he managed to unlock and kick his door open. He used his elbows to switch on the lights and laid you on the grey sofa.

"Do you need anything? Some pants, another shirt? Socks?" He spoke on top of you, trying to keep you awake.

"This outfit is too tight, Adamhm, can I borrow some long socks and one of your T-shirts?" You breathed out, with your eyes closed. Your head felt heavy against the firm couch pillow, it's like you were sinking in quicksand.

"I'll be right back." He said.

You peeked an eye open to observe his apartment decor. It was minimalistic, with tones of light greys, topes and whites. Indie artists covered his walls, and colourful woven rugs were sprawled across the floor. He had lots of books on his shelf in the corner, you propped yourself up and dragged your feet to the library dizzily.

Poetry.

Adam had lots of notorious poets in his collection.

He returned shortly.

"Here you go. Are you sure you don't want some shorts or sweatpants? They have drawstrings, so you can tighten it as much as you want." He placed the clothing on the oak coffee table that you were now making your way to.

"I'm sure... thank you, Adam." You smiled unzipping your painfully tight top, exposing your red push-up bra. Adam's eyes diverted to the floor, he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

"If you need anything else, I'll be upstairs in my bedroom. It's the first door on your left." He turned to leave.

"Wait, Adam!" You let the top fall to your feet.

"Yes?" He turned around, making only eye contact, trying to not observe your figure.

"You have poetry books in your library." You said, sliding your skirt off, leaving you in only your matching lace undergarments.

Adam controlled his breathing.

"I do, I do, uh, do you read lots of... poetry?" He asked leaning against his living room door frame.

"I actually used to write some and read them at open mic nights." You smiled, unclipping your bra swiftly, allowing your breasts to bounce out of your bra.

"Much better," You muttered.

"I-I uh, I didn't know that." He bit the inside of his cheek, face remaining unreadable. He crossed his muscular arms over his chest and fixed his posture. You could hear his foot tapping the floor, and you could sense uneasiness in him.

Oh?

Casually, you let the bra fall, like your top, and slid on his grey Star Wars t-shirt that he probably had received from a fan.

Adam was not one to watch let alone buy merchandise from his own projects. The Kylo graphic tee looked cute on you, it ended mid-thigh and wasn't too wide.

"I still write sometimes, but not as much as I'd like to, you know? What about you, do you write?" You sat on the low coffee table, knowing well, that Adam was struggling to keep his composure and slid on his long black socks that went up to your knees.

"I do, but I don't think that it's good." He chuckled, trying to seem less awkward. You simply smiled at the statement and found your place on the couch.

"um- you need some water and aspirin, I'll go get that for you." He said and walked out of the room, his heavy footsteps thumped on the creaky wooden floors.

In one hand he had a big glass of iced water, and in the other, he had two tiny pills. "Thank you," you mumbled tiredly, washing down the medicine with water. "Need anything else?" He asked glancing at the time: 4:52 AM.

"No, I'll be fine, thank you, Adam. For everything. It's really appreciated. Also, I'm sorry for earlier, I thought you were trying to hurt me, it was dumb." You looked down at the glass that you held in your lap, in embarrassment.

"You are...welcomed." He gave you a small close-mouthed smile before shutting off the lights and going upstairs to his own bed.

You tossed and turned on that shitty sofa. It was small compared to your bed at home and the throw blanket was too thin for your liking, you really wished you would've taken up that offer on the sweatpants.

"Ugh, fuck it." You groaned, now fully sober and exhausted.

You quietly got up and proceeded to make your way upstairs to the first bedroom on the left. You turned the doorknob slowly and pushed it even slower to avoid making any noise. You saw that his bedside light was on, and you could make out faint clicking noises. When you fully opened the door, you were happy to be greeted by Adam sitting shirtless in bed, typing on his computer.

"Hi." You quietly spoke.

He lifted his chin and met your eyes with his brown ones. "Hi." He gave you a toothy smile.

"Can't sleep either?" You asked, padding towards his gigantic bed. "No, not really." He chuckled closing his laptop and placing it on his bedside table.

You sat on the foot of his bed, observing his thick chest and shoulders. He was a very attractive man, very large, he looked soft. You bit your lip at the thought.

"Come." He lifted the covers from the unoccupied side of the bed and tapped the mattress like when prompting a dog or cat to come sit next to you.

You obeyed and got under the covers next to him, already feeling his warmth.

You hummed in delight as he turned off the lamp. Adam laid on his side, facing you. You did the same, trying to focus your eyes on his face through the new darkness.

He let out a tired sigh and without warning, he pulled your whole body forward. Your head was buried in his chest, his bicep supported your neck, and his other arm rubbed your back.

"Sleep, or you'll get sick tomorrow morning. "

You smiled and inhaled the scented body wash he used. You absent-mindedly pressed a kiss to his chest, making him hum lovingly.

A moment of thinking passed and he then tipped your head back, to place a long tender kiss on your lips. You returned the kiss, feeling his plump lips against yours in delight, sending butterflies in your stomach.

After, you returned to his chest and he placed another kiss on your forehead, drifting you slowly to sleep.

oh adam, i'd die for you

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diejager · 2 years ago

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Thank you for letting me use your delicious idea @konigsblog 💚

Pup

When Price told them that the Task Force would have a canine companion, none of them expected this: a dog-eared, doe-eyed, energetic and very human-like canine. You were the new canine companion that would accompany them in and off mission, even though you were more human than dog.

Although you growled and guarded them from enemies, fought well to protect them and yourself, and showered them with soft, puppy love, they still trained you. They preferred hands on training rather than the basic ones you received at the canine compound; it also helped to strengthen bonds between the master and pet.

“Good pup, aren’t y’a?”

He loved pushing you to the floor, his covered erection rutting against your supple ass, panting loudly as his bodies rattled over yours for relief. Pinning you to the training mat, wrists locked over your head and legs spread around his hip, grinding your heated core upwards and whining out the cutes sounds. Listening to your pleading whines for his attention, riding his thigh like a bitch in heat; perhaps you were, your body heated and your core burning, hurting and throbbing for something to fill you.

“You cry so pretty, pup.”

The men, however, much preferred bending you over a surface and ravaging you, pulling out of your throat the sweetest mewls with every harsh thrust of their hard cock into your tight and squirting cunt. Obsessed with the warmth of your slick walls, sucking him whole while you crashed from your highs, milking his heavy balls every time you came. Your achingly hungry cunt still clenching for more, broken voice wailing for him to satisfy your needs, head nuzzling his cheek and neck, scenting him in your musk. You staked your claim on him as he did you, painting your naked neck with bites and hickeys to show off to the other boys that stared at you with dark, lustful eyes that you were the 141’s pup.

“You’re doing so well, pup. Yes, that’s it, keep going.”

Training varied often, from adjusting your little snatch to their girthy shaft to stretching that tight, little rim that puckered when he pushed in. Your ass is as warm - if not warmer - than your cunt. You struggled at first, whimpering about how it wouldn’t fit even though he reassured you it would. Whimpering and whining into the pillow as he slammed into your opened rim, drooling over his bed with your ass up and your face shoved down. His adrenaline spiked when he could land a few spanks on your bouncing ass, skin meeting his hips when he bottomed out into you, cunt leaking down your thighs.

“Slow, pup, go slow. Yeah, that’s it.”

He liked coming down your throat as much as he could in your ass and cunt. Hearing you gag when his bulbous tip hit the bottom of your throat made his shiver, hips jerking erratically while he held your head. Sometimes he liked taking control, using your mouth to relieve himself of his frustration, other times, he liked letting you chose your pace, to let you take care of him lovingly. Your head bobbing between his thick thighs, hands pumping the rest that wouldn’t fit into your drooling mouth. You stared at his face, round, puppy eyes glazed over with big tears and cheeks full, a sinfully adorable face for the TF’s canine companion.

“Welcome to Task Force 141, pup.”

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vampsquerade · 2 years ago

Note

okay okay, asking for the monsterfuckers here >.>

can we please please PLEASE have some werewolf könig with a female reader that has to help him with his rut? some…some knotting would be cool too…

WEREWOLF KÖNIG???? MONSTERFUCKER???? HAVE I REACHED MY TARGET AUDIENCE WITH A POST OR WHAT HAHA AAAAA- ahem, but yes you may have some werewolf König

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Werewolf!König x Female!Reader: Controllable Urges

Trigger Warnings: NSFW, smut, mating seasons, monsterfucker reader, slight shifts, knotting, multiple positions, werewolf!AU, creampies, biting, scratching (fic under the cut)

Werewolves were something you’d always believed only existed in fairytales and made up stories about feral, nature connected men living in the forests. But after encountering your own boyfriend and finding out his true identity, you fully believe that they’re real. “K…König?” you ask softly when you knock on his door. There’s a soft growl followed by a whine, as if warning you to keep away. But knowing how stubborn you were, you weren’t gonna leave him alone or go away. “Are you okay..? Need me to come in there and comfort you..? Is the shift a bit painful this time around?” you ask from behind the door. “N-No…I don’t need help…do not come inside the room…please…” König growls. Just the way he sounds, all raspy and dangerous, it intrigues you more and more. You only become more worried, leaning against the door a bit more to hear what’s going on.

You can hear him panting heavily, like he’s out of breath after running around for so long. But it also sounds slightly…pained? There’s also the soft and faint sound of something squishing. “Are you…sure you don’t need any help?” I ask. “Stop asking me…hffh..~ s-stupid questions, Maus…it’s dangerous for you to c-come inside my room right now…” König growls softly. Scowling slightly, thinking he might be in some actual form of pain and doesn’t want to be treated and scolded by you, you decide to just open the door. And once you do, your eyes go wider than the moon when you see exactly what your boyfriend’s been doing this whole time. He’s in heat? Or is it a rut? You can’t really remember much about the proper terminology; all you knew was that he was in what would be considered his “mating season.”

But the sight…it’s one to truly see. König’s not completely in his other form; only his forearms and a bit of his back are covered in fur. His signature little wolf ears and tail are sticking out from his head and back, and his claws are sharp against the skin of his own thigh, piercing through and making him bleed as the other grips his throbbing cock. His eyes pierce right into yours as he scowls, growling lowly at you, “I…I thought I warned you…” he seethes. Your eyes soften a bit and you cautiously walk over to him, gently pushing him back into his bed. “What are you doing…?” König whispers breathlessly, letting his back fall onto the cool, silk sheets of his bed, making him wince softly. “Shh…I’m going to help you, okay…?” You whisper softly. Carefully, you then climb over him and sit in his lap. You can feel him burning through his dampened clothes from all the sweat and lean in, kissing him.

König’s eyes go wide and he’s doing all he can to make sure he doesn’t lose control when you sit in his lap and kiss him. He’s kissing you back gently, not trying to get too into it to where he ends up accidentally hurting you. Pulling away for just a moment, you stare at his piercing blue eyes. “I told you…I will help you whenever you need me to…” you say. Your tone is gentle and calm, sweet and kind, and it’s everything König needed right now. His eyes seem to water a little before he eventually speaks up, “I just don’t want to hurt you…I-I’m insatiable right now…” Your smile just seems to get a bit warmer when he says this, “Oh König, it’s okay—I told you I’ll help you whenever you need me to. Now tel me,” You begin, gently putting your hands into his hair and messing with his little ears and giving them gentle squeezes.

König instinctively leans into this, moaning softly when you start to scratch behind them. “Do you want me to help you through your mating season?” you ask firmly. He nods furiously, whimpering softly. “Take off all your clothes then. I promise I’ll take you as you are, but don’t be afraid to lose control—I understand and I trust you to not hurt me too badly,” you say, climbing off him to let him take off his clothes. Sitting back up on his knees, König snarls as he straight up just rips every piece of fabric on him off. You see little scars all over his body, presumably from him digging his claws into himself to keep his self-control. “You know, you could’ve told me you were a werewolf a long time ago—I would’ve been more than happy to help you out the way I am now,” you say.

König’s eyes then dart to yours and you could see that he’s already begun to break free from the chains of his self-resistance and self-control. His pupils are dilated, shoulders heaving up and down as he stares at you and breathes heavily. “Are you…really sure that…y-you’ll be okay with this? Because once I start…” he says in that same raspy voice, snarling softly, “I won’t be able to stop until I’m satisfied.” You feel your entire body fluster at this display he’s giving you. He looks so much hotter in this form, and you can’t help but wonder what it was like to fuck him this way. “I-I’m okay with this, promise…I want to help you however you need…” you say softly.

König nods and then begins to rip your clothes off, letting the shreds fall completely to the floor. “H-Hey!” you can’t help but exclaim, only to yelp slightly when he lifts you up and lays you down on your bed faster than you can even register. “I’ll buy you new clothes, now hush.” König says. He climbs over you as you lay there in your bed, and you can feel him slightly slap himself against your clit. Your eyes go even wider than before and you bite your lip. “You feel wet enough already…surely I won’t need to worry about teasing you,” he also sniffs the air, snarling softly. “Smell it too…I just want to get this all over and done with…” König groans.

And just as he says this, he lifts your legs up to your chest to put you into a mating press position. “K-König, wait!” you protest to no avail. There was no getting through to him now once he slowly pushed himself inside of you, making you whimper and moan from the stretch. König takes no time to start, gripping the backs of your knees so tightly his claws dig into you and he starts to thrust himself in and out of you. He’s much more forceful than he was every other time, driven by his primal instincts to breed you during his mating season. You can’t help but squeeze his cock tightly, as his tip practically kisses your cervix. It’s a bit painful, but you can’t help moaning over and over from how good the pain feels.

König’s larger stature still manages to tower over you even when he’s got you like this, his eyes screwed tightly shut as he thrusts into you like there's no tomorrow. The man’s lost himself to the pleasure of you clenching tightly around him, the pleasure of getting to finally mate somebody. “Fuck, Maus…you were practically made for me…I’m going to fucking mate you and make you mine~” König growls, opening his eyes slightly as he then lets a groan rip from his throat. You can’t say anything at all, accepting your fate as his forevermore as he pounds into you. “Y-Yours…I’m all yours…~” you manage to say through your helpless, wanton moans. “That you are, Maus.” König growls.

“Du gehörst mir...du bist mein Kumpel... und ich werde dafür sorgen, dass die ganze Welt es weiß…” he whispers. Suddenly, König pulls out of you before flipping you onto your stomach, raising your hips so your ass is in the air. “This is much more fitting…” König snarls as he pushes back into you. Your hands grip the bed sheets tightly, moaning even louder as his unrelenting thrusts resume again. One of his clawed hands has moved down between your legs, rubbing at your sensitive clit to make you squeeze him tighter from the sensation. “König!~ T-Too much!~” you whimper loudly, turning your head slightly to look at him.

König says nothing, giving you a sharp-toothed grin and a cocky laugh as he continues. “This is nothing yet…you’ll be begging and crying for me to stop the further I go. Like I said,” he leans down to whisper in your ear as his fingers rub deeper and harsher circles against your clit, “I won’t stop until I’m satisfied. Pass out, become completely incoherent—I’m not stopping any time soon.” he snarls. Your hips jolt slightly, as the sensation of him rubbing circles against your clit and his forceful thrusting becomes all too much. Your eyes start to slightly roll back, drool dripping onto the mattress as your jaw hangs open to moan loudly. König’s pushing you further and further towards the edge.

Feeling proud of himself, he then pulls back slightly and sinks his sharp canines into the nape of your neck right as he pushes back into you and finally finishes off inside of you. All of this has become far too overwhelming and you can’t help but finally have the most intense climax of your life; and many more were to follow after this. Your entire body’s quivering as he keeps you in place like this, hearing him growling from the satisfaction of being able to do this. König continues to thrust harder, until you feel something else press into you. Completely sheathed inside you, his knot keeps him in place as he finally reaches his own climax.

A loud snarl followed by a howl resounds in the room, his hips still slightly grinding into you until he stops. You remain there on the bed, whimpering pathetically as the stars in your vision slowly dissipate. “Fuck…oh my god…wh-what is that..?” you ask softly, trying to wiggle yourself away onto to find yourself stuck in place. König leans back down and licks the blood seeping from his bite away, as if tenderly comforting you after. “Maus…I just knotted you…you’re mine forever now that I’ve left my mark on you…” he says softly, continuing to lick at your blood. “O-Oh…how long does it last…?” you ask again, curious as to how his werewolf anatomy works.

“Hm…I’m not too sure…I haven’t knotted anyone before…” König whispers. He then presses soft kisses into the sides of your neck, moving his hands from your hips and cunt to gently roam around you. “Guess we’ll just have to wait…” he whispers once more. “Fuck…and it’s just going to be this all night, isn’t it…?” you ask. König chuckles softly, sighing happily as he gives you a nod. His ears are flat against the top of his head, tail slightly wagging. “S-Sorry, but yes…” he apologizes. You just huff through your nose before laughing softly, “It’s okay…wow…so this is what it’s like to get fucked by a werewolf…” you say softly. König nods once more and continues to tell you sweet things in German, praising you and thanking you for doing this with him.

Oh yeah…it was definitely going to be a long night.

#cod #call of duty #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #cod könig #könig #könig x reader #x reader smut #werewolf au

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erisvansserra · 6 months ago

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Follow You

Fenrys x Reader x Azriel

Summery: 30 years ago, Y/N fell through a portal and woke up in Prythian naked an afraid. She counted herself lucky that she was found by the shadowsinger and his high lord, who took her in and gave her a home. Despite their hospitality she dreamed of her home and the mate she left behind, Fenrys, who searched for her until one day.. he finds her.

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: OMG thank you SOOOO much for all the love! This chapter is going to be a LOONG one because I wanted to give you guys more Fenrys and y/n! enjoy!!

Warning: a little smutty

80 years before the fall.

Cold wind bit at your bare neck as you exited Rowan's war tent, he sat down besides the opening, polishing a sword casually, his eyes transfixed on the process.

"Good morning" you greeted, stretching your arm above your head as you surveyed the war camp before you. Men, horses and a sea of tents lay at your feet creating an electric atmosphere that you reveled in before a fight, however you weren't going to war this time. "Morning y/n" Rowan grunted as he flipped the sword in his hand, studying his work before he started buffing the handle "it's starting to snow, put on something warmer" he continued his eyes still homed in on his hands. You furrowed your brow and looked down at your cousin, his long white hair whipping around the back of his neck as the wind tangled in his locks. With a flick of your fingers your power surged forward, ice covered Rowan's sword, encasing it in a blue frosted glow. " I was born with ice in my veins" you say smugly, your eyes traveling past him to the training pit to the east of his tent " you forget I don't feel the cold like you do" you state as your eyes land on a tall male you have never seen before. His golden hair shone brightly in the sun, his tanned skin was slick with sweat or melted snow as a feral grin spread across his face. " Who. Is. That?" you asked your cousin, whose green eyes finally left the handle of his sword and traveled to the training pit where Gavriel was training with the unnamed male. "Nobody" he grumbled " I think I'll go intodruce myself" you say and begin walking towards the pit, knowing full well your overprotective cousin was a shadow against your back, walking with you in stoic silence. As your boots hit the outer rim of the training pit your eyes were locked onto the unknown male, gods he was beautiful. His onyx eyes didn't leave Gavriel's as they sparred, his muscled chest and torso captivated you as it glistened in the morning sun. He pivoted and danced around Gavriel's advancing sword. You felt Rowan's looming presence behind you, casting a large shadow over your frame as your eyes tracked the male in front of you. Gavriel whirled, his sword meeting the other males in a loud clash of iron on iron, the unknown male smiled and twisted left his sword nicking Gavriel's sleeve before the older male turned and kicked the younger male in the chest sending him to the ground. Gavriel held up a hand then motioned for the young man to stand and grab some water. "Do not.. say anything stupid" Rowan growled softly in your ear as the two males walked over "I won't embarrass you cousin, now shut up and introduce me". " Hello y/n" Gavriel greeted as he walked towards you, his shirt clung to his torso with sweat. "Hello Gavriel, are you well?" you asked sweetly looking up to your ex-trainer. When you were younger, Rowan had asked Gavriel to take over your training so you could learn to fight in your animal form. Gavriel being a mountain lion and you being a panther, his training was specially focused on all the ways to bring down the enemy while taking advantage of your animal's strength. "As well as I can be" he answered giving you a warm smile, you didn't even notice the two males that walked to either side of Gavriel. Your eyes darted the male from earlier and a equally as good looking brunette as they joined your conversation. Gavriel's smile widened as he saw the look on your face, his eyes darting up to look at Rowan, who you knew was frowning behind you. The golden haired male gave you a small smile, his onyx eyes raking up your body before meeting your eyes " I don't believe we've met" he said taking a step forward and offering his hand " I'm Fenrys". You placed your hand in his, your breath hitching in your throat as he clasped your fingers between his own and brought the back of your hand to his lips. Rowan growled from behind you and crossed his arms over his chest as he stared down Fenrys. "I'm Y/n" you said more breathlessly than you intended, Fenrys ignored Rowans warning growl and gestured to the male next to Gavriel " this is my brother Connall, but believe me, he isn't as fun as I am" Fenrys said with a smirk that created butterflys in your stomach.

"If you're done" Rowan bit out from behind you " I think y/n and I were going out for a ride" he continued as his hand grips your forearm and pulls you away from the three males. Your head whips from your cousin to the three males, you catch Gavriel trying to suppress his smile as he watched Rowan tug you towards the waiting horses. For the next few days you didn't see much of Fenrys, stolen glances as you passed each other in camp or across the fire from dinner. On this particular night you sat next to Rowan as the cadre told war stories in front of a booming fire on the outskirts of camp. Gavriel had made a vegetable soup for the group, that you drank down in three mouthfuls. Training made you incredibly hungry. You tried to keep your eyes on Lorcan as he told the same boring story again of how he saved Rowan from certain death over a century ago. But your eyes kept finding Fenrys's from across the dancing flames. His onyx eyes looked like burning coals as the fire lapped at his features, his golden skin features shadowed in darkness as the fire fluttered before him. You quickly looked away to your cousin, Fenrys, who was starting to revel in how nervous he made you looked back to Lorcan and pretended to pay attention. " The pup keeps looking at me" you said quietly to your cousin as he brought his bowl to his lips with one hand and drank the rest of his soup. "I've noticed" he grunted in his usual tone as he set the bowl at his feet. " Don't be grumpy, I'm freaking out... should I go talk to him?" you ask, your eyes slightly widening as you looked to your cousin for guidance. He, however looked at you like you had asked the stupidest question in the world. "Don't be stupid, let's not forget the drama you caused when you slept with Vaughan" he said straightening his back again and resting his elbows on his knees. "Oh, that was like 25 years ago... you and he need to get over it" you said with a swipe of your hand dismissing that ungracious comment. " You almost killed him when you caught him with that girl" Rowan jested, a small smile forming on his face as he recalled ripping you off Vaughan, your knife so close to the warriors neck you had just nicked it. You smiled in return and allowed a small chuckle to escape your lips " I think that was your proudest moment" you said, leaning over and handing Rowan a cup of wine that had been served with dinner. His smile grew as he took the cup from your fingers and held it between his own, the fire light dancing in his green eyes as he hummed in response.

The conversation died between the two of you, it wasn't long before the males that sat around the fire retired to bed. Gavriel's hand ruffling your hair affectionately as he walked past you to his tent and went to rest. You were on guard duty until the sun peaked its head over the horizon, then someone would take your place and you would be able to rest before the camp moved further down its path to war.

Only no one came to relieve you, so you sat all night and morning on guard. When time came to leave, Rowan used it as a training tactic, earning glares from the rest of the cadre, save Lorcan who thought it was a great idea. You were on a dirt road by midday, the gravel crunching under your boots as you walked next to Rowan and his horse, the army of 10,000 strong fae warriors around you marching to war. The cold wind bit at your face and hands as your cousin muttered comments about how sloppy you've gotten, that in the past you could stay up all night and run 10 miles on no rest. You ignored him, your body aching and your eyes threatening to close at any given moment. " Jog up to Gavriel and then back" Rowan ordered with a dip of his chin, you threw your head back and audibly groaned "Rowan I am tired" you said with a pained voice " I need to rest".

"Like I care" he huffed and used his boot to push you into a jog, you scowled back to him and started your slow, pained jog to Gavriel's black mare. When you reached him, you rested your hand on his calf startling the fae warrior slightly "Gods you look like shit" he muttered casting his gaze back to Rowan. " I feel like it" you muttered back, your steps becoming sloppy as you tried to keep up with his horse. Gavriel's eyes looked down to you and softened, he lifted his fingers to his lips and whistled to Fenrys who was on his white stallion up-ahead. The white wolf looked over his shoulder and saw you, his eyes lit up as he turned his horse and trotted down the line, flanking your other side. You didn't register what was happening until you felt Fenrys's hand under your arm, ripping you onto his saddle and against his chest. Suddenly, you were no longer tired, your eyes practically popped out of your head as you felt his strong chest pressed against your back. "uhh" you said trying to find some words to say but they escaped you, you were just happy Fenrys couldn't see how red your face had turned at his touch. But Gavriel did, he smiled brightly at you as you made eye contact with your ex-trainer. His eyes darting up to Fenrys before instructing him " make sure the princess gets some rest, when there is a fork in the road wake her up so she may continue her journey". Gavriel's eyes landed on you again, he reached over and placed a gentle hand on your knee before whispering "you're welcome" and riding off to take the spot in the group Fenrys left free. "You can relax princess, I won't bite" Fenrys purred as he leaned down, his breath tickling the back of your neck. You hadn't realised how rigged you were, your hands balled into fists on your lap, your posture straight and narrow like you were at court. With a shuddering breath you eased into Fenrys, pressing the back of your head against his shoulder as his hand came across your front and tucked you closet to him, his other hand holding the reigns of his horse. "So" he said after a little while, noticing you hadn't fallen asleep yet " If you're not going to war with us, where are you going?" he asked, his onyx eyes looking down at you as you rested against him. You pointed a delicate hand to the mountain range ahead of you, his eyes followed and flared in surprise when he noted your destination. " When my father died and my mother was unfit to take care of me anymore, I went to live with Rowan and my aunt and uncle" you explained " my father was buried in his village with his father and his father before him, I'm going to visit" "Do you visit your father's grave often?" "As often as I can"

You felt Fenrys nod against you taking in your story. "Do you miss them? your parents?" He asked carefully, his voice soft and tentative. "Yes, but... my aunt and uncle raised me... so it is them I miss more" You confess as you look up to the fae warrior pressed against your back. He looked down at you, his eyes soft and inviting as waited for you to continue. "Rowan however, when he leaves for war, I miss him the most... he is the reason I'm as strong as I am" you confess and rip your eyes away from his own, closing them as the shade of the upcoming forest started to cover you. Offering enough darkness to lull yourself to sleep. " Don't tell him though, he gets weirdly sentimental when I say stuff like that" you say while trying to stifle a yawn that slipped past your lips anyways. You felt Fenry's arm tighten around you, felt his body shift further back on his saddle to give you enough room, to make you comfortable. "I won't, get some rest, i'll wake you up when it's time" he said, his thumb drawing small circles on your hip where it rested, if you were less tired you might have blushed at his touch. The casualness of it, how natural it felt, but sleep took over. When you awoke you were in your fathers village, your head whipping from left to right as you took in your surroundings making sure you saw everything right. You felt Fenrys chuckle against your back, then he patted your thigh and jumped off the horse. "What.. How?" You asked, still atop the white stallion looking down at Fenrys with furrowed brows laced with confusion. He smiled softly up at you and dug his hands into his pockets. " I asked Gavriel where the village was, I didn't want to wake you" he said casually, his charcoal eyes never leaving yours. You were speechless, you gawked down at him in shock as you mulled over his words. He had ridden 3 hours away from the group, to let you sleep, to make sure you got enough rest before you spent time at your father's grave, you couldn't do anything to stop the blush from spreading across your cheeks. "Well I guess I'll see you around" he said kicking some gravel at his boot and turning back down the road. You watched him and shook your head, then before your eyes a bright light exploded on the road, where a man stood before a white wolf took its place. "Fen!" You called to the wolf that stopped and looked over its shoulder, you kicked the horse and turned it so you could face him " what about your horse?" you asked, bending forward and gesturing to his white stallion that huffed white smoke as the cold of the village air started to seep in. The wolf's eyes darted from the horse to you, casually it reached both its paws forward, stretching out its back with a small grunt, then without another word it padded back down the road. The unspoken words were as clear as day, he wanted you to keep it until you returned home.

5 Years Later

Travel the world, it was the one thing your aunt and uncle told you numerous times in your life. Then one day you packed up a bag and Fenrys's borrowed horse and started a solo journey though the wild. You had been gone a year now, you had sent letters to your family, Rowan included and got responses when you were in one place long enough.

But tonight, under the summer solstice moon you swam freely in the ocean, the waves lobbing you from side to side like a ship out at sea. You heard crunching on the sand, looking to the shore you spotted a white wolf, its nose imbedded in the clothes you had left in the sand, sniffing your scent. "Fenrys?" You called from the waves, catching the wolfs attention. It's ears pricked up as he sighted you in the waves, your white long sleeve shirt clinging to your bare skin as you bobbed up and down in the water. With a flash of light the wolf became a man, your breath got caught in your throat as he smiled at you from shore. His hair was long and wild, somehow, his body became more muscular in the time he was away, probably from all the fighting you thought to yourself. "What are the chances I would find you here?" He called, bringing his hands next to his mouth, cupping his lips so his voice would travel to you. You smiled and lifted a hand out of the water, gesturing to the sack of wine you had left with your belongings. " Want to join me pup?" you asked, tilting your head to the side in challenge, the wine in your system and your brooding cousin being away making you more confident around him. Fenrys raised his eyebrows as a slow charming smile spread across his face, he reached down and took the sack of wine, unscrewing it he brought it to his lips and drank deeply before tossing it back onto the sand. " I don't have a change of clothes" he shouted with a smile as he started to loosen the stings of his tunic and make his way closer to the lapping waves of the ocean. "Neither do I" you shouted back, walking closer to him as the waves pushed you along "I'm just in my under shirt" you said, a little more seductively than you intended. Fenrys's fingers fumbled slightly at your words, he looked back to your belongings, a fire raring in his ears as he spotted your bra amongst your belongings. His breath evened out, a pool of fire igniting in his stomach as he ripped his shirt off with one hand, not bothering to take off his trousers he ran into the ocean and dove beneath the waves. He emerged in front of you, his bare chest so close to you, you could see the goosebumps rising as the cold water washed over him. You smiled up at him as his eyes connected with your own, the alcohol in your blood begged you to touch him, to feel him under your touch but you knew better than to tangle with a member of the cadre. Fenrys was fighting the same internal battle, he couldn't help his wandering eyes as he stared at you from under the moonlight, your skin giving off a heavenly glow that he wanted to lose himself in. He could see your peaked nipples from under your white shirt, the cold of the water making them so tight he almost bent down to push his warm tongue against them. "So" you breathed, biting your cheek nervously " how have you been?" you ask as you kick your legs from under you. "I've been well, I heard you've been traveling?" he asked as he swims a little closer to you, the moonlight not hiding the blush from him this time. "Yeah, it's been nice just me and your horse" you say smiling.

"Ah yes, my stallion... I hope he is treating you well"

"As loyal to me as a war horse can be" you answer brushing some hair away from your face that the waves keep bringing forward. Fenrys hums in response, that intoxicating smirk plastered on his lips once more as he turns his head to look back to shore. Your eyes widen as you see the two scars that rake down the side of his face, without hesitation you reach up and run your thumb along his jaw, feeling the scars indentations in his skin. His eyes shoot back to you as you take in his wounds that stretched from the corner of his eye and down his jaw. "What happened?" you breathed. "Just got distracted during a fight, not a big deal" he shrugged as he reached behind you, forcing you to stand closer to him in the water. His smirk widened into a predators smile as he held you against him, now your skin pebbled in goosebumps. Your hand that rested on his face traveled down and found home on his chest, his heart racing behind his rib cage so hard you could see your hand moving. "You know, i've heard this bay is littered with sirens" he said, his head cocking to the side as his hands rested on your hips " beautiful women that beckon men into the sea and have their way with them before drowning them beneath the depths of the water" he said warmly, a slight look of challenge in his eyes. "Do you think I am a siren Fenrys? A woman who calls men to the sea to have my way with them?" You asked, taking that small step closer to him. You yelped in surprise as his hands that once rested on your hips now firmly held your thighs, wrapping them around his waist as he picked you up. His eyelids lowered slightly, your breasts he was so longing to taste now out of the water and on full display before him. He kept one hand on your backside while the other traced up your back and tangled in your wet hair, moving you slightly so he could leave warm kisses on your skin. "I hope so" he purred into your neck as he kissed you. You felt his member grow as it pressed against you, a moan escaped your lips as you felt his hand travel to your breast and lightly pinch your nipple. Your mind raced, you didn't know what you expected when you invited him out here but it wasn't this... not that you were mad. His lips moved from your neck up to your jaw then just before your lips met his, his eyes shot wide and he dropped you taking a few steps back. Confused you reached forward and went to touch him, but he batted your hand away. Hurt, that's what you were, that's how this night would end with you being hurt. "Fenrys?" you asked, trying to gage him as he turned his back to you, his shoulders moving deeply with each breath he took. He looked over his shoulder at you, his onyx eyes locked on yours as he pressed a hand to his forehead. Then in that moment the bond snapped, like a rope that tied you two together by your ribs. You gasped and almost fell backwards in the water but you regained your balance. "This is not good" Fenrys muttered as he turned to face you again. "Excuse me?" you asked with a slight tremor in your voice, still shocked that the mating bond had snapped so suddenly. He raised his hands defensively and walked toward you, the water rippling around him as he strode effortlessly to you in the waist deep water. " That's not what I meant... It's... It's just" he fumbled his words, his hands reaching up to cup your face in the moonlight. His eyes flicked between your own as you stared at each other a mixture of disbelief and confusion etched onto each face as you peered into each others souls. "My.. role with Maeve" he said through gritted teeth like the very words he uttered were poison " is... complicated, if she knew y/n who you are to me, she will kill you" he said quietly. Your eyes widened as you tried to step out of his touch but his hand tightened keeping you still " we can reject the bond now" he offered "you don't have to offer me food or your word, we can break the bond and you won't live in danger" he said quickly, his heart

rate so fast and hard he thought he might pass out. The way he looked at you, the memories with him came flooding back, the way he kissed your hand, the way he let you rest against him, the way he stole glances across the many fires you sat at. Over the years it had been known you two had developed a crush on each other, much to Rowans dismay but now it made sense. He was your mate, from this day until your last day. "No" you said, he went to speak but you held up a hand and stopped him " the gods brought us together, that bitch you work for doesn't scare me" you stated and removed his hands from your cheeks. "I won't accept the bond until the time is right, but if you're okay with it, fen, I'd like to see where this goes" you said.

Surprised by your words, he smiled and bent down. His lips tasted like the salt water that surrounded you both, you wrapped your arms around his neck as his tongue swept your lower lip. You smiled against him then pulled away. "Don't get too excited pup, you can buy me dinner first" you smirked as you began to walk back to shore. "You didn't care a second ago when your legs were trembling against me" he jested as he came up behind you. You rolled your eyes and walked towards the shore. Fenrys let you use his discarded shirt, still dry and covered in sand as he picked up the rest of your belongings and walked you back to the cabin you were staying in. He didn't stay the night as he still had work to do, he didn't even kiss you goodbye, but you knew in your gut this was the right choice.

You waved as you parted ways, the moon casting his shadow onto the dirt road. A/N: Here it issss, I hope you liked it and you aren't missing Azriel too much hahha, he will be back next chapter I just really wanted to show fen some love

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #fenrys x reader #acomaf #acowar #rowan whitethorn #fenrys tog #throne of glass fenrys #throne of glass #tog #aelin galathynius #lorcan salvaterre #gavriel #aelin #rhysand #feyre archeron

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yuheartss · 1 year ago

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WHOS THAT GIRL?

IN WHICH — light finally makes a move on the girl he’s been stalking since high school

ʚɞ WC? 949 wordss

ʚɞ warnings! - stalking, hint of kidnapping, fem!reader, fluff-ish, unedited, lowercase intended!

ʚɞ a/n: I feel like I made him a little ooc but I hope not.. if I did please tell me! constructive criticism is welcome js don't b mean ⟢

In collage you were a bubbly person you had all the best fashions, best friends everything you could’ve ever wanted except one thing, a boyfriend, you told yourself that you didn’t need one you had to work on your fashion design major

You went to a small cafe to work on a dress sketch with your earbuds on you don’t notice a man coming up to you, he taps your shoulder and you look up at him “yes?” You ask “um can I sit here? All of the other tables are full” you look around and he was right it was full

“Yea sure” you said welcomingly the man smiles and sits with a cup of tea in hand “so what’s your name?” He says, hoping to start a conversation you look up from your sketchbook you give him another smile “y/n what about you?”

“Light” he says leaning back against his chair he looks at your sketch “are you in a fashion major or something? I can tell because of your unique style and your sketches” light finished, like he didn’t already know, you stare at him for a minute and laugh softly “your very observant Light,yea I’m in that major what about you?”

“I’m in criminal justice my father was a cop so I’m just following his footsteps” he said casually, looking into your eyes for any suspicions you might have “interesting…you don’t look like you’d be a cop more like a…scientist or something” you tilt you head as he chuckles

Your phone buzzed causing the both of you to look at the phone “hello?” You answered the keychain on your flip phone dangled as you leaned over to talk to your friend as you were doing this light took notice of your slicked back bun your curls covered in glitter hairspray, charms and hair clips near your ears

He knows you’ve been like this since high school you’ve Always been friendly you were popular and all but you never had any classes with light so of course you weren’t gonna remember him

Ryuk hoveres over Light his smile never falters what are you gonna do Light? Your not gonna stalk her are you? Ryuk teases looking over to you, still on call with who ever

“Very funny” Light says softly “i already know where she lives” Ryuk laughs as you turn back to Light “sorry about that something came up I gotta go it was nice meeting you Light” you say as you start to pack your things up

“Wait! Can- can I see you again?” He asks a little too desperately but that’s what girls like right? You blush a little and flip a page of your sketchbook and write your number down you rip the paper out and give it to him before speed walking out

He watches you go and looks at the note :

xxx-xxx-xxxx call me! ♡

He smiled at this and left the cafe as light walked out the street he couldn’t help but start thinking about if you r always like that or do you fake a face or the public he just couldn’t help but think about you about what makes you tic your fears everything

So two months later you guys have been hanging out and then light calls you, he asks if you want to take a walk in a park and of course you agree, you put on your best outfit ever cheetah print leg warmers here bows with similar patters over there

And of course you being the only person of color with bright colors on, it made you stand out quite a lot you got stares from girls and boys, men and women, dogs even! it made you slightly uncomfortable as you noticed this one man who kept following you ever since you got off the bus

You brushed that aside once you saw Light in the distance you called his name and he looked over to you with a smile you caught up to him and held his arm “sorry about this” you muttered as you leaned you head on his arm

Thinking that this’ll throw the man off and he’ll leave to which he did leave after a while of walking and that’s when you let go of Light “sorry some guy was following me and I wanted to shake him off” you explained as he nodded “yea I kinda figured that’s what you were doing it’s no problem” he replied deciding to be bold and take your hand

You bit your lip softly to stop the expression that your blushing to appear “soo where are we going?” You ask as you both go deeper into the park “you’ll see..” was all he said when you both got onto the center of the park he had shown you a lit up little area fairy lights, the water fountain reflecting those light’s making the water light up, flower bushes all around

“Oh wow..” you said softly placing your well-manicured hand over you mouth “like it?” He asked with a smirk watching your every move “yeah.. are you finna propose or something?” You questioned him eyeing him suspiciously

He chuckles “no no nothing like that, I was gonna ask if you wanted to be my girlfriend” you pause for a moment he was so casual about it you almost missed the question, you practically jumped on him screaming a yes he returned your hug smiling but what you couldn’t see was the dark look in his eyes

Next thing you know, your on tv you watch as the reporter says that you’ve been missing for three months she finally asks? who’s that girl?

#death note #light yagami #light yagami x reader #light yagami x you #poc reader #black!reader #tw stalking #tw mentions of kidnapping #kinda fluff #agejo gyaru #agejo!reader #gyaru reader #naowrites໑⃝

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threadbearsweater · 7 hours ago

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one warm day is all i really need | arthur morgan

When you find yourself taken in by a gang of outlaws, the last thing you expect is to grow sweet on one of them- and have the feelings reciprocated. Arthur Morgan doesn't have time for romantic nonsense, but a few memebers of the gang want to make sure that he gets to indulge in his obvious affection toward you. Tags: 3.9k words, an unlikely romance, meddling gang members (with the purest of intentions, one might suppose); female reader, alcohol use, smoking, emotional smut. A repost from a (regretfully) deactivated blog.

Arthur first notices your eyes on him one evening around the campfire at Shady Belle. He won’t accuse you of staring– Lord knows he’s been known to look at you with the same foolish grin you’re wearing now– but he tips his hat to acknowledge you. The heat in your cheeks is suddenly warmer than what the fire has already provided; your grin only grows until your teeth are showing, and you duck your head into your shoulder to hide. Arthur takes a long swig from his whiskey bottle and grimaces as it goes down. He hasn't had a drop of anything in days, and the burn takes a little while to grow numb to now.

“Think she's sweet on you, Morgan,” Sean says in his Irish lilt, giving Arthur an elbow in the ribs.

“Naw, she's lookin’ at you,” Arthur deflects, though he hopes he's wrong. He thinks he knows.

“She told me last week to keep my eyes on my own work,” Sean continues. “I really don't think it's me she wants, Arthur.”

You turn to whisper something to Sadie, who laughs out loud with her face tilted toward the stars. You dare a glance back at Arthur, who is, in fact, looking at you.

Maybe there's some truth to what Mary Beth told you yesterday.

“Arthur's been awful quiet lately.”

The sun shines through the trees and dapples the table where you're seated with bright spots of pale yellow. It's your third round of dominoes with Mary-Beth, and she's whooping your ass, as usual. You don't know how she does it, but each game you play, you're a little more privy to her prowess.

“You think so? I don't know him as well as you.” You hope it isn't obvious that your heart started beating a little faster at the mention of his name. It leaves you breathless.

“Oh yeah,” Mary-Beth continues. “He's been scratchin’ away in that journal of his a lot more, too.” She leans closer, conspiratorial, her eyes twinkling with the gossip she's about to share. “Karen said he went to town twice last week to have a hot bath. If you knew Arthur like I know Arthur, why…you'd know that's highly out of character for him.”

“But you said he'd been quiet. Is that unusual for him, too?”

She hums and purses her lips. “Well you see, Arthur isn't usually a man of many words on a good day. But it's been real bad lately. He don't even give John a hard time like usual.”

You ponder the dominoes for a moment and then make your move. It doesn't earn you any points, but at least you didn't have to draw. “What do you think the problem is?” you ask, nonchalant as possible.

Mary-Beth smiles. Big and bright and sparkling. “Oh, it's not a problem at all.” She lowers her voice and cups her hand to her mouth. “Arthur's in love.”

You gasp, then giggle behind your hand, and Mary-Beth follows suit. Hosea looks on and shakes his head, so you quiet down, reaching across to grab Mary-Beth's hands. “Who do you think it is?”

Her cheeks are tinted pink, and she looks around to make sure there aren't any ears to hear. Word travels fast around camp if one isn't prudent. “I think it's you.”

A thunderstorm rips through Shady Belle a little over a week later. Your little tent that you share with Sadie is ripped straight off its supports in a terrible gust of wind, and you and the others hightail it inside the house to take cover just as it begins to hail. There's quite a ruckus as everyone huddles inside, windblown and rain-soaked. A few of the men hold up lanterns to illuminate the darkness while you watch the lightning and feel the thunder shake the old bones of the house.

“Everyone just calm down,” Dutch calls, descending the stairs, wearing some ridiculous robe with his arms spread wide. “Are we really gonna let a little old thunderstorm keep us from getting a good night's sleep?”

“Says the man with a bed inside the house,” Arthur bites, rounding the corner from what used to be the kitchen, holding a lantern up high in front of him. “Dutch, you better allow these ladies to take cover in here for tonight, or I'll–”

“Or you'll what, Mister Morgan? Pray tell, what kind of man do you take me for?” Dutch's eyes are fiery as he stares Arthur down; a display of dominance. A veritable cockfight.

Arthur's jaw twitches, but he doesn't back down. “The kind of man I should hope would have some goddamn respect for his family.”

There's a tense moment or two where everyone is quiet, then Dutch relents. “Fine, fine! But I expect everyone out there pitching in to clean up in the morning.” He points at Arthur and raises his voice again. “That includes the other man with a bed inside the house,” he sneers.

Arthur shakes his head, then looks away only to catch sight of you, shivering in your wet undergarments, huddled close to Mary-Beth for what little warmth the two of you can share. For a minute, he forgets to breathe, then composes himself enough to cross the room.

“Come on in here. Get yourself warm and dry by the fire.” His hand on your elbow is rough but warm as he leads you toward the fireplace. You nod and look back at Mary-Beth, who shoos you away with a flick of her wrist and a wink; you notice that her teeth are chattering. Despite the humidity that hangs heavy in the air, the temperature has turned chilly with the storm.

Arms crossed over your bosom to preserve any shred of modesty you might have left, you allow yourself to be led away by Arthur. Dutch and some of the others head upstairs while Charles and Javier keep watch from the front porch.

“You alright?” Arthur asks. He covers your shoulders with one of his heavy winter coats, and you pull it around you, grateful for the weight and warmth of it. Another clap of thunder shakes the house and you jump. Arthur chuckles.

“You laughin’ at me?” you quip, placing your palms flat in the direction of the fireplace. You don't even bother to hide the grin you feel curling on your lips.

“No madam, I am not,” Arthur says earnestly, taking a seat beside you on the old wooden crate he's set up as a makeshift bench.

“Then just what do you find so funny, Mister Morgan?”

He scratches the back of his neck, looking into the flames. “Aw, I dunno. I'm sorry. It's just that you're…”

You bump him with your hip, unable to stop the giggles that bubble up from your chest. “I'm what?” you pry.

There's a clatter of something falling on the front porch, and Arthur uses it as a good excuse to get out of this hole he's dug for himself. “I better go see what's going on out there. Charles might need my help.”

“I'm what, Arthur?!” you call, to no avail. He's gone before he can see the proverbial hearts in your eyes.

The saloon in Rhodes is a little nicer than the ones you visited in Valentine, though it's a far cry from the ones you used to frequent in Saint Denis. Still, when Sadie and the other girls decide that it's high time you have a little fun in town, you throw on your best dress and let Karen curl your hair and even apply a little of the makeup you snagged from a homestead up north. For the first time in months, you feel like a proper woman. There isn't time to be melancholy about the past, though, when the boys start whistling and cat-calling upon the sight of you and the other girls.

“Aw, knock it off!” Sadie hollers. She's decided to dress up a little tonight, too, much to everyone's surprise. But she hikes up her skirts to hop into the wagon, calling for the rest of you all to hurry it up. “I've got a bottle of rum with my name on it that's waiting for me to come drink her all down!”

You catch the sunset on the way to town. It's dazzling over the meadows, all golden light and warm, blazing oranges and reds that settle into a brilliant pink by the time your reach the main road into Rhodes. You wish you could see Arthur's eyes, but he's got a handle on the reins next to Charles in the front of the wagon. You've seen him watching the sunset before; he always looks so peaceful those evenings at camp, and you often wonder what he thinks about in those few minutes before the horizon is painted in pastel hues.

Karen starts singing a song that everyone eventually joins, and before you know it, you're pulling up in front of the Rhodes Parlour House. You can already hear the piano and a few voices from outside; the sound of it stirs something in your soul that makes you long for the familiarity of home, but you quickly shove it aside in favor of the company of your new family.

“Madam.” Arthur's voice brings you out of your thoughts and back into the present, where he waits at the back of the wagon with his hand extended to you. You beam at him, and he feels dizzy. And when your soft hand fits into his, he straightens his knees so they don't buckle and betray him.

“Why, thank you, kind sir,” you say, lifting the hem of your skirts to step out onto the dirt road.

Arthur leans in, dangerously close to your ear. You can smell the whisky and cigarettes on his breath, along with the faint tang of gunpowder and hair pomade. “You sure do look nice in that dress.”

You demure and fan yourself with your hand. “Just how much have you had to drink already tonight?” you giggle.

“Ahh, just a little nip to take the edge off.”

“Mm-hm. Sure, Arthur. Whatever you say.”

The night starts off relatively calm, as most nights do. You and the other girls find an empty table to sit and pick up on the town gossip, and the men start a hand of poker. It grows loud and crowded sometime around midnight, and it's hard to have a conversation without shouting over the din of voices, the clink of glass bottles, and the slow drag ragtime music from the piano. The ambiance is charming and lighthearted, and there are even a few couples drunkenly dancing on the porch.

You push back in your chair and find that when you stand, you're a little more wobbly than you thought you would be. The alcohol has loosened you more than you realize, and you grip the table for support until you feel a firm arm around your waist. “Whoa there.”

It's Arthur, who has won the last round of poker and has come to check in on you and the other ladies. You're pulled tight against his chest for one fleeting moment, and you look up into his eyes. He, too, seems drunk, with his eyes gleaming and drooping at the corners, his smile easy and his cheeks flushed.

“My knight in shining armor,” you slur, pretending to faint in his embrace. He only pulls you tighter against him, both of his broad hands splayed across your back. You laugh, and he smiles.

“You weren't getting another drink, were ya?” he questions with a raise of his brow.

“‘m thirsty,” you whine, lifting your empty glass entirely too close to his face. It knocks against his nose, which sends you into another fit of laughter.

Arthur takes your wrist– gentle but firm– and lowers the glass away. “Think you need to drink something that's not whiskey,” he drawls. You can't help but watch the way his lips form around the words; the slip of his tongue between his teeth, the way his mouth turns up into the hint of a smile when you pout. Before you can think too long and hard about it, you lunge forward and kiss him. Hard and clumsy and impulsive. You don't give him time to react. You're far too involved in the kiss to notice, but the girls at the table behind you have all gone silent. Arthur slides his hand along the side of your face and presses his fingers upon the nape of your neck, kissing you back like he really means it. (He really does.)

You pull back suddenly, breathless and reeling, swiping the back of your hand over your mouth. You're still held firm in his embrace, but the playfulness in his gaze has been replaced with an intensity that makes your knees weak all over again.

“What'd ya do that for?” he asks.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, you started it.”

“And you finished it.”

“Oh, I ain't finished with you, yet.”

“That a promise or a threat?” Your pulse is thumping wildly in your ears.

“Ya know, they got rooms upstairs for that!” Sadie shouts. There's a ripple of laughter across the table. Arthur's hand on your cheek feels like a brand, his arm about your waist an anchor. The rest of the room comes back to you in a woozy blur, and you look around, a little lovestruck and a whole lot drunk. Arthur's lips at your temple make your eyes flutter shut, and the room fades to black as tIt'weight of you slumps against him. He staggers only slightly, but holds you firm, chuckling softly.

“It's a promise,” he whispers.

You come to some hours later. Your mouth is dry as the desert, your head feels like lead, your skin broken out in a cold, uncomfortable sweat. At some point, it seems you were covered with a downy soft blanket, and the pillow at your head is much more fluffy than the makeshift one you made out of a bedroll at camp. At first, you think you're dreaming. Then, you wonder very briefly if you're back at your childhood home in Saint Denis. You almost call out to your mother when you hear a soft snore from the other side of your bed.

The room spins when you turn your head, and you rub your eyes until Arthur comes into focus. He's sprawled in an armchair a few feet away. His arms are crossed over his chest while his chin is tucked into his chest. Off to the side, you spy his boots; his big toe pokes through a hole in his sock and you smile at how vulnerable he looks.

“Arthur,” you whisper, shifting slightly as you pull the blanket up around your chin.

He grunts and lifts his head slowly. He frowns a little at first, but when he focuses on you lying there, so close he could reach out and kiss you again like he did last night, there's a slow, easy smile that spreads across his face.

“Hey there, party girl. You feeling alright?”

You could kick yourself for all the giggling you've done around him lately, but you can't help it. He brings out something giddy and downright foolish inside you, so you toss a pillow at him and bury your face in the sheets.

“Aw, come on now. I'm just messin’ with ya.” He leans forward and rubs your head affectionately. “I'd say you were feeling pretty good last night.”

It's in that moment a white-hot jolt of sheer panic shoots down your spine. Quickly, you check to make sure you're still wearing clothes. Aside from your breasts being a little lopsided in the confines of your bodice, you're relieved to find that your dress is still intact and– more importantly– on your body. You dare another peek at Arthur and notice that his shirt is unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest and he's discarded his vest somewhere, but he, too, is fully clothed. Thank the good Lord above.

You must've said that last part aloud, because Arthur laughs. “Don't worry, nothing happened. Though it weren't for lack of tryin’ on your part,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Thought I was gonna have to lock you in here like some feral cat till you settled down.”

Oh. Oh Lord. You try to recall what happened that led you to this room, but all that comes to mind is a lot of loud conversation, some dancing, a spilled drink across Sadie's lap, and Arthur's hand on the side of your cheek. “Oh…”

Now you remember it in vivid detail.

“Didn't know you cared for me like that,” he says. It's earnest and tender, a few shades less intense than the kiss you now recall, the one where it felt like he wanted to eat you alive right there in the middle of the saloon. Now, he thumbs your cheek and looks at you so fondly you swear your heart jumps right up in your throat. “I mean, I'd been hoping. Wasn't sure you was looking for a romance.” He huffs a short sigh, frustrated with himself. “Aw, hell, what am I saying? ‘Course you weren't. You're just looking to survive, just like the rest of us, and here I–”

“Shut up,” you say, taking hold of his hand and tugging him closer. He resists until you pull even harder, watching the fire in your eyes blaze to life. “You talk too much, Yankee.”

“I ain't no damn–”

“Kiss me.”

He's over you in an instant; you're pressed flat against the bed, completely and totally at his mercy. This kiss feels different than the drunken one last night. It's sober and honest, if not a little hesitant, as if he's holding himself back from devouring you wholly. The warmth of his body against yours takes your breath away. Or maybe it's the way his tongue laves heavy into your mouth, unashamed of how badly he craves the taste of you. You grip his hair at the roots and tug him down to kiss him harder, lifting your upper body to meet him until he presses down, his chest flush with yours.

Things get heated quickly.

His mouth moves across your cheek, down your neck, and he groans against your skin, rutting his cock against your thigh. You fleetingly wish that he had managed to get you out of that dress before he presumably tucked you into bed and passed out in that chair, because there’s a whole lot of fabric between you and him that really pisses you off right now. Arthur must feel much the same, because he’s bunching your skirts up past your knees while you’re fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to feel him against you, inside you. It’s clumsy and crazed, rushed and rough, but you manage somehow to shuck off every last bit of your clothes and his until you’re breathless and so, so eager beneath him.

“Need you now,” you whine. You feel insane. Dizzy and dehydrated, impossibly turned on, every nerve ending on fire when his callused hands grip the fat of your thighs and open you to him.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?” One of his hands slips between your legs to find you wet and swollen. He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and pushes a finger inside you; the sound you make nearly has him finishing there on the sheets, so he wastes no time in getting himself as close to you as humanly possible.

“Never wanted something so bad,” he murmurs into the dip of your shoulder. He wants all of you– all at once– wants to fuse his hands against your skin and sink himself into you so deep that it would be impossible to tell where he ends and you begin. The heat from his body takes away what little breath you have left, his mouth on each part of your body building the buzz in your chest until you feel like you might just burst open. You grabbed at each other like it was the first and last time you might have this opportunity, as if you wanted more than what the other of you was able to give.

Considering the kind of life you’ve both led so far, it’s a good possibility that you might never get to do this again.

“Give it to me,” you plead, opening yourself further to him, fingers wrapped firm around the base of his cock. “Please.”

Arthur Morgan is a man of incredible strength and self restraint, except when it comes to a woman like you.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he takes you. It’s primal, sweaty, filthy, rough. Arthur pushes as far inside you as he can go, then pushes further when you beg for more. He cups your knees with slick palms and presses you open as far as you can bend; you tug roughly at his hair and bite down on his shoulder when the pleasure builds to a blinding ferocity. The wooden bedframe knocks angrily against the wall with each thrust, but you can’t bring yourself to care if anyone hears. You can’t focus on anything beyond the feeling of him filling you with every stroke of his cock, of the taut, corded muscle in his back and shoulders as you grapple to hang on as tight as you can. Your orgasm hits your hard and fast, and he encourages you through it, taking his time to give you long, controlled strokes. It’s as pleasurable for him as it is for you. “‘Atta girl,” he rasps, lips moving against your ear. Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle your cries, but he pulls it away and threads his fingers with yours, pressing it onto the pillow. “I wanna hear it.”

Your moans are what drive him over the edge.

He buries his face against the side of your neck, panting heavily as he comes, driving into you so hard that you can almost feel the mattress beneath you begin to sag under the weight. You cradle his head in your hands and link your legs around his waist, boneless and languid in the aftermath of your own pleasure. When he moves, you move with him, riding out the waves together until you’re both too tired to move another muscle.

Neither of you speak for a while. He lies on his back with an arm around your shoulders while you curl against him, tuned into his heartbeat and swirling little patterns into the hair on his chest. It’s comforting to feel him next to you, to watch his chest rise and fall as he steadies his breathing, to soak up the warmth of his skin against yours.

You’re the first to break the silence. “Did everyone else go back to camp last night?”

Arthur nods slowly. “Something tells me they planned all this.”

“Planned it? You mean…” You lift your arm slowly and flick your wrist to acknowledge the room you’re laying in. “This?” You lift your chin and grin at him. “Or getting us together?”

“Room was paid for before I even had a chance to ask if they had one,” he explains. “Think it was Mrs. Adler.”

You vaguely recall her shouting something about a room after you kissed Arthur last night, and you shake your head. “You complaining?”

He turns to his side, draping an arm across your hip. “Me? Never.” You’re suddenly pressed beneath him once again; from the looks of it, you won’t be getting out of this bed anytime soon. “Specially when I’ve got you here to help me keep warm.”

#arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader #red dead redeption 2 x reader #arthur morgan smut #my writing

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violentdelights-violentendss · 9 months ago

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you couldn't keep me off for long 🤺🤺

how about the same three (dazai aku and fedya) but with a reader that runs super cold ?? i love this idea for no reason because dazai would tease, akutagawa would just be funny because haha sickly victorian children, and fedya has fuckign anemia so ofc he's cold 24/7 as well. ur writing style is also delectable i would like to eat it tysm

(me when i read ur things)

OMG I LOVE THIS! (Bro thank you sm i seriously feel like my writing style is shit but I love you…and please never fend off)

to the anon requested the bsd men and cold fic it is underway, I currently have written half of it…the ones with all BSD men take longer to write 😞😞

off I go to writing this ✨✨

BSD Men With a Reader That Runs Cold

In this post: 💃 Osamu Dazai, Ryonosuke Akutagawa, Fyodor Dostoyevsky💃

Pairing: Fem!reader/BSDMen

Synopsis: BSDMen and a gf that runs cold.

Osamu Dazai

Dazai is a man that burns with joy and passion in his everyday life. Consequently, his body temperature almost always runs high. And as the saying goes, opposites attract: you’re almost always cold, and Dazai, the man of your life, seems to have fire licking his skin constantly. He eagerly appoints himself to be your personal furnace, wrapping you in his arms when you shiver, and lending you his coat without you even having to utter a word. But his gestures come with a small price. Your boyfriend always teases you, his cat-like eyes smiling fondly as you glare at him, bundled in a mountain of covers and still needing his body heat. Dazai’s favorite joke is to propose sex as a way to warm you up. No matter how much he teases, however, he will always be ready to rescue you from the freezing cold that claws at your skin, enjoying the time he gets to spend holding you close to his heart.

You walked through the streets of Yokohama, shivering like you were experiencing your own magnitude level 5 earthquake. You were bundled up in a large coat, a scarf and gloves, even a small hat adoring your adorable face, and yet, you were still shivering so hard your teeth chattered.

Your boyfriend, Dazai, was walking leisurely in front of you, wearing only his usual trench coat, seemingly unaffected by the cold that held you tightly in its claws.

“D-Dazai!” You called, feeling as if you couldn’t take another step without shattering into a myriad of tiny ice shards.

“Yes, my belladonna?”

“M’ cold…”

Dazai sauntered over to you, leaning down to peck your nose. “Such a rare occasion, isn’t it, Bella?” He cooed mockingly, caressing your lips with his thumb.

You swatted his hand away, whining. “Stop teasing. I need solutions, not problems.”

“Okay, I have a great solution.” Dazai declared, looking in your eyes very seriously. You nodded, listening, blowing some warm air on your freezing hands, which still felt on the verge or falling off, even with your gloves on. Dazai’s hands took yours in his, warming them up with his own personal heat. “We go back there, and I fuck you so good — ”

“DAZAI!” You shouted, afraid someone could hear you. You rapidly checked around the both of you, terrified that a little kid might have been lurking in a corner. Returning to look at your boyfriend, you found him doubled over, laughing.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” He said, a hint of laugh still dancing in his tone. “Come here,” he said, opening his trench coat. You slid inside, instantly feeling warmer. Dazai closed the coat around you, holding you tightly against him, feeling a little proud when you stopped shivering. “When we get home, l’ll make you some warm tea.” He promised, already seeing your apartment complex in the near distance.

“And then we cuddle on the couch.” You said, starting feel your ears again.

“And then we make out on the couch, yes.”

“DAZAI!”

Your joyful boyfriend started laughing, and you soon joined, your laughter intertwining into a beautiful melody, as you two walked home. Throughout the walk home, Dazai made sure you were completely covered by his coat, a perfect bundle of warmth. He promised himself he would always be there to hug you till you weren’t shivering anymore.

Ryonosuke Akutagawa

Akutagawa was a normal person, who never felt too hot or too cold. When you burst into his life, all joy and laughter, he had to get used to you, and all your wonderfully eccentric behavior. But the one thing he struggled most with, was your abnormally low body temperature. Whenever you told him you were cold, he would stare at the various layers of clothes you were wearing, as well as the winter coat you had thrown over your shoulders. Akutagawa just…couldn’t understand you. He didn’t try to be mean or anything, his mind just couldn’t make sense of it. Akutagawa soon realized that his body heat helped the perennial cold that seemingly nestled, like a frozen rose, in your heart. Whenever you would be shivering at night, Akutagawa would tentatively wrap you in his arms, and warm you with his body heat. He would crank the heat up in your apartment, despite your protests about the price (he had enough money to spend). Soon, you feeling cold became another quirky aspect of your relationship, and also gave Akutagawa the opportunity to always keep you in his arms without explicitly voicing his desire to do so, which suited your touch-starved boyfriend perfectly fine.

You were at the Port Mafia’s annual Christmas Party: an event that lasted all night long, in one of the many ballrooms owned by the criminal organization. The floors were made of polished wood, and the ceilings were decorated with wonderful paintings, and delicate flowers engraved in the dark wooden beams that supported the high ceilings. The moonlight filtered in through the mosaic windows, coloring the partygoers in different shades.

You were sitting at a table, a glass of glittering champagne in your hand. You were wearing a black slip dress Akutagawa had gifted you. It adorned your body perfectly, a slit exposing your right leg. You looked gorgeous, and Akutagawa stared at you for a good 5 minutes without being able to say anything when you had come out of the bathroom, finding you the epitome of beauty.

The night had been fun: you had successfully dragged Akutagawa to waltz with you, holding you close. You could feel Akutagawa’s heart beat against your chest, a small smile twinkling on his lips. The moment had abruptly ended when Mori had called Akutagawa to raise a toast to the Port Mafia with the rest of the high executives.

You, being a low-level Port Mafia member, had given him a kiss to send him off, and had gone back to sit at your designated table. All the dancing had made you sweat, and now the droplets were cooling on your skin, making you already colder than you always were. You had decided to sip on your champagne to warm yourself up, but your exposed arms were not helping. You had started shivering, setting the flute back down on the table, and wrapping your arms around yourself to try and create a little heat.

“Are you feeling cold, (Y/N)?” Akutagawa asked, dragging a chair to join you. You nodded, sheepishly. Akutagawa glanced at you for a few seconds, his eyes zeroing on your shivering shoulders. He exhaled, not believing he was about to do this.

Slowly, Akutagawa removed his coat, an item of clothing that was seemingly fused to his body: he rarely took it off, and only in the comfort of your home, where he knew the both of you were safe from any danger.

You watched him in utter disbelief as he draped it around your shoulders: it was the greatest act of trust Akutagawa could ever commit towards you.

Seemingly not having moved you to tears enough, he scooted closer with his chair, wrapping you in his arms and holding you tightly against him, trying to transfer some body heat.

Akutagawa was known for not liking any form of PDA. You knew. He knew. The whole Port Mafia knew, which explained the shocked glance Chuuya threw your way.

But honestly, you didn’t care, and nuzzled your face in Akutagawa’s chest, glimmering tears sliding down your cheeks and ruining your makeup: Akutagawa always found proclaiming his love to you to be extremely difficult, but clumsily, through his actions, he always found a way to tell you how much you meant to him.

Your boyfriend felt your shoulders shake, and mistook you to be still freezing. He held you even closer, until he noticed the wetness on his chest, harshly pulling you away from him to check on you. “(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” His panicked tone made you laugh through the tears.

“You’re just perfect, you know.” You whispered, bringing his hands to your mouth, leaving a red lipstick mark on his knuckles. “I couldn’t have gotten luckier.”

Now it was Akutagawa’s turn to feel his heart melt, his eyes suddenly watering. He coughed, looking away, trying to maintain his cold persona.

“Akutagawa, it’s our song!” You squealed, suddenly hearing the melody play. “Let’s go dance!” You excitedly grabbed his hand, almost dragging him to the middle of the dance floor, his coat still around your shoulders.

Akutagawa almost protested, but the smile that was engraved in your eyes the minute you started swaying in his arms was a force too strong for him to resist. You two ended the night in each others arms, singing the song’s romantic lyrics to one another, the mosaic windows coloring each part of your faces with a different color.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Listen, Fyodor is anemic, he’s always cold. Russia’s harsh winters must have infected his body, because this evil mastermind is always shivering. And when the two of you got together, and you told him you were a person that generally ran cold, Fyodor smiled, saying he was the same. The two of you share the same struggles on a daily basis, and try to rely on one another for warmth, but with little to no results. The heat in your apartment is always cranked so high that Nikolai directly comes in shorts whenever has to come over. Whenever you two sleep, you have at least 5 covers and huddle in each other’s arms. Whenever you whine that you’re cold, Fyodor does hug you, but you both know it won’t be enough, so he throws a cover on both of you, and only then can you two start to warm up. A warm tea, or a warm milk, are mandatory every night, and you have a multitude of hot water bottles stashed in the kitchen. You use one almost every night. Still, even if Fyodor knows that hugging you won’t change much, he secretly adores sleeping with you in his arms, because the love that you so clearly feel for him is enough to warms his heart.

“Fyodor, I’m still cold,” you whimpered, trying to huddle in his arms. The two of you had been cuddling in bed for thirty minutes, bundled underneath an avalanche of covers and duvets, each of you holding a warm water bottle. Fyodor was feeling…okay. Not warm, exactly but not as freezing as you were. You must have been tired: you usually felt colder when you were tired. Fyodor tried his best to rub his arms against yours, but to no avail.

“I can tell, myshka…you’re shivering,” he cooed, trying to tuck the covers around you. But nothing seemed to be working that night. Fyodor leaned back, trying to figure something out, his already fast mind moving at inhumane speed. “What if I draw us a warm bath?” He asked, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

Your eyes shot open, a glimmer of hope in your smile. “Yes…please,” you scooted out of his embrace, watching as your boyfriend braved the cold, sliding out of the sheets. You instantly felt colder, now that he was gone. You hugged his hot water battle as well, watching as his tall form slid inside the bathroom. You heard the water running. The harsh sound of water on marble soon changing to water sloshing on water.

You waited impatiently, jumping out of the bed when you heard his sweet voice calling you. You ran to the bathroom, trying to avoid the cold’s claws that reached for you. You almost threw yourself in the bathroom, closing the door behind you to not let the heat from the heater make its escape.

Fyodor looked at you lovingly, helping you slide your clothes off. You didn’t wait for Fyodor, almost throwing yourself inside the large bathtub. You instantly felt the cold hidden in your limbs wither and die, finally feeling at peace. The water sloshed around you as Fyodor joined you in the tub, his pale skin almost taking a pearl-like shade in the dim lights.

You happily swam towards him, falling into his arms. Fyodor welcomed you with a small smile, glad to see your cheeks flushed with heat for once. “We should do this more often,” you thought out loud, playing with your boyfriend’s hands.

“Noted, milaya.” He purred, feeling a drowsy sense of relaxation spreading throughout his body. “This sure is peaceful,” he murmured, sinking further in the bathtub, eyeing your naked body underneath the trembling surface of the water.

“Stop,” you laughed, noticing his gaze, swimming away from him and flicking some water in his face with your foot. Fyodor moved uncharacteristically face, grabbing your ankle and tugging you toward him, and pressing a kiss to your soft skin. You giggled shyly, hiding underneath the water.

Fyodor dunked his head underneath the water, meeting your eyes. You smiled at him, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, dragging you against him. He pulled both of you out of the water, watching as it cascade down both of your bodies. You laughed merrily; Fyodor laid his head on your chest, closing his eyes and humming quietly. You caressed his head, diving back in the water when you felt a sudden chill caress your spine.

You kissed Fyodor lazily, watching with half-lidded eyes as he opened the tap to let more scalding water fill the tub around you.

You two cuddled in the warm water for hours, sometimes kissing, sometimes just laying in each others arms.

You were falling in and out of consciousness, and barely noticed Fyodor lifting you out of the now lukewarm water, drying you and slipping your pjs on you. He then carried you to bed, tucking the both of you in, carefully. You snuggled against his chest, and peacefully fell asleep, finally warm, Fyodor’s hand held tightly in yours.

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