#I SAY THAT'S MY BABY AND I'M REALLY PROUD!!!!!!!!

[adorekento]

"TELL ME WHAT TO DO."

summary: life has never been better since marrying Nanami Kento—every second feels like something you wouldn’t trade for your favorite food. But who would've thought that even after 3 years of marriage, you both still haven’t had sex?

warnings (18+): MDNI. husband!nanami x wife!reader, angst to smut, explicit sexual content, P in V, unprotected sex (wrap it up), reader is DESPERATE, insecure, demanding, no usage of 'y/n', dominance, masturbation, he pulled out but she wanted creampie!!!!, fingering, handjob, breeding kink, pregnancy thoughts, “daddy” used in reader’s inner thoughts, begging, choking (light), edging (light), they're both a freak for eo, cursing, praise kink, thoughts of kids, soft dom!nanami, he talks u through it gng 💋, reader is very whiny, pet names, mature themes, intimate sex if u blink, vulnerability, strong language, etc. (lmk!!)

author's notes: bro rhis took me like 2 weeks cuz of depression 🥀. I'm barely surviving!!!!!! I DIDN’T edit this so if there r typos or shit... js pretend u didn’t see them ok 💔 love yall twin!!!s!!. Also dw I see those requests piling up in my inbox—keep ‘em coming . I genuinely LOVE reading ur ideas, even if my brain is slow at the moment. OK ENJOY READING

word count: 5.2k (not proofread)

Your thighs clenched. Again.

It has been clenching for so many hours that they’ve gone numb. You shift under the soft blanket, the air thick with the scent of your husband’s cologne lingering from earlier, and it makes your stomach twist with frustration.

You’re soaking. Again.

It’s pathetic, really. How easily your body responds now—how even the ghost of his touch, the memory of his voice rumbling low in your ear as he tells you how proud he is of you, makes your cunt throb.

crazy, right?

Your husband. Your fucking husband. The man you've been married to for years. Who’s seen you at your worst, held your hair back while you threw up from period cramps, memorized the way you like your coffee, babied you, kissed your stretch marks, and still acts like you’re the only woman to ever walk this earth.

And still, after all that—he hasn’t fucked you.

Not once.

Not on your honeymoon.

Not on your anniversaries.

Not during those quiet, late nights when you're curled up in his lap, drunk on wine and love, whispering every filthy thing you want him to do to you.

Nothing.

Never.

You’ve made out, sure. He’s fingered you maybe once or twice a month, always with the kind of slow care that made you want to scream.

You’ve given him a few handjobs, watched him cum in your grasp while he grunted your name and bit his lip so hard it bled. But that’s where it always ends.

That’s where it always stops.

Because Nanami Kento, your perfect, maddeningly composed husband, is gentle. Too fucking gentle.

So gentle it’s driving you absolutely insane.

He says he wants to wait.

Says love is about time.

That he wants everything to feel right—not rushed, not pressured, not like he’s using your body just because you’re married. He says you’re not a thing to be taken. That he wants to love you, not consume you.

It would’ve been romantic. hell. it IS romantic. At first. That patience. That unwavering control. You thought, ‘Wow, this man is made for me.’

But now?

It's been years, and you’re left curled up on the couch at 03:54… flushed and needy, wrapped in one of his shirts with your thighs pressed tight and your fingers covered in your own slick.

And no matter what you watch, no matter what you read, no matter how deep you fuck yourself with your own fingers—nothing feels like him.

Because you don’t want your fingers.

You want his tongue.

You want his cock.

You want his hands pinning you down, his teeth grazing your throat, his voice low and wrecked in your ear while he finally lets himself have you the way you’ve both been dying for.

You’ve tried to seduce him. Girl, have you tried. You’ve worn those little lingerie sets he bought for you, tried riding his thigh in nothing but lace. Tried whispering all your filthy little fantasies in his ear, hands sneaking down his pants, lips trailing down his chest.

But every fucking time, it ends the same.

You straddle him.

You grind.

He kisses you slowly.

You can feel him—his hard, thick cock pressing up against your dripping heat.

And just when you think this time, he’s finally going to snap—

He stops.

A knock at the door.

A call from work.

Or worse—he pulls back, looks at you with those gentle fucking eyes, cups your face, and says something like, “Not tonight, sweetheart. I don’t want to rush this.”

And what the fuck are you supposed to do with that?

Your heart aches with how much you love him. Truly. Every day with him feels like living in a dream. He treats you like royalty—makes you feel adored, cherished, like no one else even exists. He never forgets a thing. He compliments you constantly. He’d die before hurting you.

But when you’re ovulating and every nerve ending is on fire, when your skin is begging for his hands, and your body is aching for him to break the rules he set—when you’re on the edge of tears because you’re so painfully, brutally, unapologetically needy—all that love starts to taunt you.

Because it’s not enough.

You’re 99% content. You really are.

But that 1%?

That one, tiny, aching percent that never gets touched? That part is starving.

Sex.

You couldn’t hwlp but feel a little pouty every time your friends launched into another one of their steamy stories—laughing, swapping details, comparing notes like it was the most casual thing in the world.

You’d sit there with your lips pressed into a tight smile, nodding along, trying not to let the emptiness in your chest show.

It wasn’t like you wanted to spill your own secrets—if you even had any. Sex is supposed to be private, intimate, something you wouldn't just toss into a group chat like gossip.

But still… The silence on your end wasn’t a choice. You had nothing to share. No experience. No stories. Just a head full of filthy thoughts and daydreams that kept you up at night, especially when he crossed your mind.

And it’s eating you alive.

You slam your laptop shut, fingers still slick, frustration bubbling under your skin like lava. This isn’t just arousal anymore—it’s anger. It’s longing. It’s desperation laced with hurt, laced with doubt.

Does he not want me?

Does he not think I’m sexy enough?

Does he not feel the same ache I do?

Tears threaten to burn in your eyes, but you blink them back.

No.

Fuck that.

You weren’t going to cry because your own husband wouldn’t fuck you.

You were going to make him.

Your hands found his tie the moment he walked into the bedroom, tired from work, shirt slightly undone, hair a little tousled—the sight of him only made the fire in your gut explode harder.

“My love…” you breathed, your voice nearly shaking as you tugged him down, fingers curling in the fabric of his tie like a lifeline.

A low groan escaped his lips as you pulled him flush against you, your legs locking around his waist like a vice, yanking him down onto the bed without hesitation. The soft thud of his weight on the mattress was drowned out by the pounding in your chest, in your pussy, in your damn soul.

“Kento…” you whined, voice cracking into something that sounded more like a sob, more like please. Your whole body trembled beneath him, needy and raw and exposed.

You were so fucking horny it was hard to think—hard to breathe. Everything felt too hot, too loud, too full of him.

His hands found your hips, grounding and warm. He squeezed them gently, like he always did—so fucking gentle—and you wanted to scream.

“…yes, honey?”

And then you felt it.

He pressed his crotch to your soaked panties, the hard line of his cock dragging against your swollen folds, and you moaned—a broken, uncontrollable sound that came from somewhere deep in your chest.

It wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

“Ken..” you gasped again, hips grinding up to meet him, shameless and desperate. “Please—fuck, please—just fuck me. please.”

Your fingers gripped his shirt now, trembling. “I can’t take it anymore, I can’t—I need you, I fucking need you. Not your fingers. Not your sweet words. Not your soft kisses.”

You looked up at him, wild-eyed, tears threatening again—not from sadness this time, but from the sheer force of everything you’ve buried.

“I need your cock, Kento. I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me until I forget my name. I need to know you want me like that, too.”

He looked stunned. Lips parted. Hands frozen.

He kept looking into your eyes. Deep—like he was staring straight into the core of you, trying to read every emotion you didn’t know how to say without crumbling.

“Darling… we—”

“Oh, is this the part where you tell me we have to wait?” you snapped, “Is this where you say you don’t want to rush our relationship? Where you tell me this can’t be about lust? That you want to wait until it’s the ‘perfect time’?”

Your hands clenched around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer and yet pushing with your words, with the venom dripping from your tongue—born out of pure desperation.

“Are you seriously about to do that again, Ken’? Because I swear I’m gonna lose it.”

“N-No… I mean—”

You shook your head, the burn in your throat threatening to spill into tears, but you swallowed it down because you weren’t sad

You were furious.

“I get frustrated, Ken.” you growled, barely holding yourself together. “I get so mad like I could fucking scream, like I could cry and break things, and I hate it. I hate that I feel this way about you.”

You choked on your breath, the words pouring from you like they’d been waiting at the edge of your tongue for months.

“I get so fucking turned on when you don’t touch me the way I want. When you keep doing this thing where you kiss me like I’m made of porcelain as jf I’ll crack if you fuck me like you want to. And it drives me insane because I know you want to. I can feel it.”

Your hands slid down his chest, your fingers trembling as you pressed your palm against the hard, obvious bulge in his pants.

“You’re hard, Ken’. Every time. Every fucking time. You get like this and then you just—stop. You stop and you say something gentle and sweet and then just nothing happens.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just listened.

“Do you even love me, baby?” you whispered, voice breaking. “Do you even want me? Do you want to fuck me, too, or is that just me?”

“Am I not attractive enough for you? Is that it?” Your voice cracked, your eyes locked on his, daring him to lie—begging him to give you something.

Still, he didn’t interrupt. He didn’t lean in to kiss you and hush you like he always did. He just watched, his jaw tight, eyes burning with something deeper.

Because he wanted to hear it. All of it.

What else did he even make you feel—just because he wanted to be patient? Just because he thought patience was love? When it only made you feel neglected, starved, and completely out of your mind with need?

He was too quiet. Too still.

The silence pressed heavy between you both, louder than any shout, any moan, any begging you’ve ever done.

He just stared, his hands still on your hips, his eyes unreadable—but burning. You couldn’t tell if he was angry, or hurt, or just holding something back with every ounce of control in his body.

And that silence?

It fucking crushed you.

Your throat tightened. You hated how your eyes started to sting again, tears threatening to spill even though you swore you wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him. Not over this. Not over the fact that you practically threw yourself at your own husband and he still wouldn’t fuck you.

You looked away, trying to blink the tears back, trying to swallow the humiliation clawing its way up your throat.

“I—I shouldn’t have said anything..” you whispered, voice barely there. “Forget it. Just forget it. Let’s just—go to sleep or something, okay? I didn’t mean to—fuck, I didn’t mean to ruin everything, I just—”

“I’ve always wanted to fuck you.”

Your eyes widened.

Your breath caught.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck you ever since the first time I saw you.”

Your eyes snapped to his.

“I wantwd to bend you over the second I heard you laugh.” he went on, voice shaking now—not with hesitation, but with restraint.

“I wanted to have you moaning my name in some dark hallway before I even knew your name. You were wearing that tight fucking skirt and that smug little smirk like you already knew I’d fall for you—and I did. I fucking did.”

“I even wanted to know how good it would sound if you moan my name the moment it left your lips for the first time.” Your breath hitched at his words, your thighs involuntarily clenching.

“You think I don’t want you? Baby, I wake up hard just from dreaming about you. I jerk off in the shower thinking about what your pussy would feel like wrapped around me. I have to force myself to stop every fucking time we make out because I know that if I go too far, I’m not stopping until I’m buried inside you and making you scream.”

You whimpered out loud. You couldn’t help it. He chuckled low, breath heavy against your lips, his cock grinding slow against your soaked core.

“You don’t know how many nights I’ve spent fucking my hand to the thought of you—legs spread, tears on your cheeks, begging for my cock.”

You were trembling now, your nails digging into his shirt. “I thought I was protecting you...” he admitted. “I thought I was being gentle. Loving. Waiting until the right moment. But fuck, baby, I didn’t know I was hurting you by not taking what we both need.”

His hands slid under your shirt, palms hungry against your bare skin.

“and for that… I'm really sorry, I really mean it.” he murmured, his hands slid up under your shirt—warm, wide palms trailing up your sides until they found your breasts, and he groaned.

It was guttural, instinctive, like he couldn’t believe he’d kept himself from touching you like this for so long. He palmed you through your bra at first, then tugged the fabric down, letting your tits spill into his hands.

“Fuck…” he whispered, voice ragged. “Look at you.”

Your hands flew to his—gripping them, grounding yourself. They were so big, so steady, and they felt like fire on your skin. You weren’t even sure if you were holding him there or trying to keep yourself from falling apart.

His thumbs brushed over your nipples underneath your bra which made your back arch, a soft whimper escaping your lips before you could even think to hold it back.

“Every time you’d crawl into my lap…” he growled, “or wear those little shorts around the house... I’d have to walk away, baby. I’d go to the other room and calm myself down so I wouldn’t bend you over the fucking couch like I wanted to.”

You whimpered again, biting your lip as your thighs rubbed together, aching for friction.

“I’d picture this.” he murmured, leaning in to kiss down your neck, nipping at your skin like he couldn’t stand not having more. “Your tits in my hands. Your legs wrapped around me. Your pussy so wet and hot and ready for me. I’d picture you on your knees, begging me to ruin you.”

“Ken—Kento..”

He pressed his forehead to yours again, his hands still full of you, his cock grinding harder into your soaked panties as he stared down at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

“I get it. So…” he whispered. “Tell me what to do.”

You blinked up at him, your lips parted, breath stuttering, heart pounding like a fucking drum.

“Tell me how to touch you. Where to kiss you. How to fuck you. I’ll do any-everything. just tell me.”

You looked up at him, breathless, pupils blown wide, hair a mess, nipples hard under his fingers—but your voice? It came out sharp, needy, laced with months—years—of built-up frustration.

“You wanna know what to do, Ken?” you hissed, your hips jerking up against him, chasing friction like your life depended on it. “Start by not stopping this time. Touch me like you mean it…” you snapped, grinding up into his cock, desperate and aching.

“No more slow fucking kisses and soft whispers and telling me to wait for the right time. This is the right fucking time. I’m wet, I’m throbbing, and if you don’t fuck me tonight, I swear, I’m gonna hump your fucking thigh until I pass out.”

“I’m not made of glass, Kento.” you added, wrapping your fingers around his wrists, dragging his hands down to your waist, then back up to your breasts again, encouraging him to squeeze harder—needier.

“You can be rough with me. I want it. I need it. I need to feel your cock inside me, I need to hear you lose control. I need to see what the fuck you look like when you’re not trying so hard to be perfect.��

You were rambling, but you didn’t care. You were trembling under him, wild with want, your panties completely ruined, sticking to your folds, your clit aching from how ignored it had been for far too fucking long.

“I want you to grab me. Flip me. Manhandle me if you fucking have to. I want you to fuck me until my thighs shake and I cry and scream and forget my own name—”

“You want all that?”

You grabbed his tie and yanked his face down, nose to nose, your lips brushing against his as you hissed.

“Yes. I want all of it. I want you, Kento. I want every filthy, pent-up, repressed, desperate thought you’ve ever had about me. on me. in me. right fucking now.”

He blinked once… then his mouth was on yours, hands everywhere, his tongue slid against yours, wet and messy and hot, swallowing the soft whimpers falling out of your mouth as he ground his cock right against your soaked panties, letting you feel how thick and hard he was for you.

One of his hands gripped your breast, kneading it roughly, finally without hesitation. The other slid down—quick, deliberate—and he moaned into your mouth when he felt the mess between your thighs.

“You’re soaked…” he growled. “my wife is fucking dripping.”

Your hips jerked when his fingers pressed to your clothed clit, just enough to make you jolt with a high-pitched cry. He smirked against your lips. “You meant it, didn’t you?”

“you whimpered, “stop teasing—fuck—fuck me alrwady.”

You were tugging at his belt now, frantic and shaking, and he let you—watched as you undid the buckle, pulled the zipper down, reached into his boxers with desperate, greedy fingers. You wrapped your hand around him and nearly gasped.

Fuck, he's huge. Hot, heavy, twitching against your palm.

“Y-You’ve been hiding this.” you choked out, stroking him slow just to feel the way his hips shuddered.

“I was- trying to be patient,” he rasped, voice nearly hoarse now. “But you—fuck… you test me every day, baby.”

His hand pushed your panties aside and when his fingers slid through your folds, his whole body shuddered.

“So wet for me… So soft.” he whispered. “I’ve dreamed about this—about the way you’d feel, how tight you’d be.”

“Then take meeee…” you pleaded, voice breaking. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, Kento. Just—please. I need it. I need you.”

He grabbed you by the hips and hooked your legs around his waist. Your panties were gone in seconds—ripped, tossed somewhere blindly across the room.

He positioned himself at your entrance, just barely pressing the thick tip against your soaked slit, teasing your hole. You whimpered, trying to push your hips up, but he gripped your thighs hard, pinning you in place.

“Tell me again..”

“I want you, Kento, so fuckinggg bad.” you breathed, nearly sobbing from the anticipation. “I want your cock. I want you to fuck me like you’ve been dying to. I want you to ruin me.”

That was all it took.

He pushed in, slow at first, making sure you felt every inch, veins, size—stretching you so fucking deep your back arched off the bed and a broken moan ripped from your throat.

“Oh fuck—Ken—Kento—”

He bottomed out and stayed there for a second, just breathing, gripping your hips like he was holding himself together with threads.

“You feel… incredible..” he groaned. “So tight—so fucking perfect for me.” Then he pulled out, and slammed back in—hard, which made you scream.

He didn’t give you a second to recover—he started pounding into you like he was possessed, like every bit of restraint and patience he’d shown all these years had finally exploded into raw, filthy need.

and you love it.

Your body bounced with each thrust, your thighs trembling as he slammed into you again and again, the sound of skin slapping and your soaked pussy squelching filling the fucking room.

“This is what my wife wanted so bad, right?” he groaned into your ear, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand, the other gripping your waist so tight it might bruise. “This what you were so desperate for, baby?”

“Yes—fuck—yes, Kento!” you cried, arching into him, legs shaking from how deep he was.

"Take it nicely, just like that..."

His cock hit places your fingers never could—each thrust pressing against your sweet spot so perfectly you were already close to tears. It was brutal, perfectly brutal, rough in the exact way you’d been begging for. You sobbed, the pleasure too much, the pressure too high.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you like this since the first time you touched yourself beside me and thought I didn’t notice.” he groaned, mouth against your jaw. “Thought I didn’t see the way your thighs shook, the way you whispered my name when you thought I was asleep.”

Your walls clenched around him hard.

“Oh my—Ken—please—please don’t stop!” you begged, barely able to breathe between moans. “Harder, please, harder—”

He let go of your wrists and grabbed your throat, just gently, enough to tilt your chin up so he could look you in the eyes while he ruined you.

“Look at me when you cum.” he growled. “I want to see your face when I make you fall apart.”

And fuck, you were so close—his cock dragging over your most sensitive spot with every savage thrust, your clit grinding against the base of him with every slam of his hips, your walls spasming already.

“Oh, my sweet baby…” he hissed, thrusting harder, deeper, his voice dark and breathless. “Cum all over my cock, baby—show me how much you fucking needed it.”

You choked on a cry, nails raking down his back, and your whole body tensed.

Then shattered.

Your orgasm hit like a fucking truck—hot, intense, blinding—your mouth wide open in a silent scream, tears streaming down your cheeks from how violently your body shook beneath him.

He groaned when he felt you clamp down around him, hips stuttering as he fucked you through your high.

“That’s it.” he grunted. “Good girl—such a good fucking girl—taking me so well—”

He pulled out just in time, groaning deep as he came all over your stomach and thighs, hot and thick and messy, hand wrapped around his cock as he finished, eyes locked onto your tear-streaked, fucked-out face.

You were gasping for air, still trembling, legs spread wide and twitching. “Why did you pull outtt, Kennn???” you whined, breath hitching, still sprawled out beneath him—skin flushed, soaked, trembling.

Your voice was hoarse, cracked with frustration and the remnants of your high, but still laced with that needy, bratty tone only he could pull out of you.

Nanami’s chest rose and fell, his breath still uneven, a strand of hair stuck to his damp forehead. “I-... Are you alright? I wasn't rough, was I? Did I hurt you—”

“Nooo.. answer my question, baby!” you whined as he blinked down at you, dazed, cock still twitching in his fist. And then, slowly, a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“You were that desperate to get bred, huh?” he murmured, fingers tracing the mess he made across your stomach, dragging the thick cum over your skin in lazy, teasing circles. “You wanted all of it, baby? Inside?”

You nodded uncontrollably, whimpered while your hips twitches at his words, at the way his tone dropped.

“Yes, fuck, Ken… I wanted you to fill me up—why’d you fucking stopp?” Your voice crscked again as you glared up at him with glossy eyes, grabbing at his wrist. “You always stop. I wanted to feel it, feel you, all the way—”

He leaned in, crowding over you again, one big hand sliding under your ass to keep your legs spread, the other smearing more of his cum onto your inner thighs like he was marking you.

“Then tell me..” he whispered, voice low and gravelly, lips brushing your ear. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you next.”

You rolled your eyes, “Be roughhh, babyyy..”

“You don’t want me to be careful?” he growled, voice rough in your ear as his cock pressed right back against your soaked folds, already hard again. “Not now. Please.”

“Then I hope you’re ready to take every fucking inch of me.” He grinned, making you gasped as he slid back in—slow, just to tease, just to make you feel that first stretch.

You clawed at his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist again, heels digging into his back to force him deeper.

“Fuck—fuck, yes, right tbere—” you sobbed, already overwhelmed, already addicted to the way he filled you. “Don’t stop, Ken—don’t you fucking stop again! Fuckkk- Don't stop—”

He didn’t.

He gripped your thighs and snapped his hips forward hard, burying himself to the hilt with a growl that shook through your body.

The bed rocked.

The sounds—wet, deep groans, filthy moans—filled the room even more as he started thrusting, deep and rough and mean, but with that same love in his touch that made it unbearable in the best way.

One of his hands slid between your bodies, cupping your tits, squeezing them, thumbing over your nipple as you writhed beneath him.

“You feel this?” he grunted. “This pussy was made for me. Yeah? Take it slow… Take it like a good girl. I love you, sweetheart.”

You couldn't even form a response, your nails scratched down his back, your mouth open in a cry of desperate pleasure.

“I wanted you bent over every surface in our fucking house.” he kept going, hips snapping, “Wanted to watch my cum leak out of your pretty pussy while you begged me to give you more. I wanted to ruin you.”

“Then fucking ruin me, Ken!” you screamed, tears slipping down your cheeks again. “Mark me up, mess me up, make me yours—do whatever the fuck you want to me!”

He kissed you then—deep, harsh, tongue in your mouth while he rammed into you, over and over and over, chasing the orgasm he’d been holding back for years.

And this time?

He didn’t pull out.

You couldn’t bring yourself to admit just how badly you wanted him to fill you up — not because you actually wanted kids right now, but because the idea of it, of him, made something primal stir inside you.

It was embarrassing, really — how every time he interacted with children, something in you ached. The way his voice softened, the way his eyes lit up with warmth and patience — it drove you absolutely wild. Kids love him and his presence so much. You’d never imagined something so domestic could be so erotic.

Maybe it's just you though...

And yet, the thought crossed your mind again.. Would it be too much to call him daddy? The word itself felt cringe, almost ridiculous on your tongue, and you worried it might ruin the moment — that it might make him laugh, or worse, be turned off, and look at you differently.

So instead, you bit your lip and stayed quiet, your breath catching as the heat between your bodies lingered.

Your hands flew up to cover your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds that slipped out anyway. Sweat clung to your skin, your bodies still tangled in the aftermath of pleasure, his weight a welcome pressure atop you.

Every slight shift sent aftershocks through you, and you didn’t know if your body could handle another round. But deep down, you knew you didn’t want him to stop.

His breath was hot against your neck, each exhale fanning over your damp skin like a whisper of fire. You felt the way his chest rose and fell against yours, the weight of his body grounding you, making everything outside this room feel far away.

His fingers grazed along your waist, a slow, deliberate touch, as if he was memorizing you, all over, again.

Your thighs trembled around his hips, still sensitive from the last wave he pulled from you.

You whimpered softly, unsure whether it was from overstimulation or craving more. Probably both.

He tilted his head, catching the sound, and you didn’t have to look to know he was smirking—that teasing, dangerous smirk that always made your breath hitch.

“You’re so quiet all of a sudden, my love.” he murmured, voice thick and low, words dragging through your skin like silk and smoke. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not with your heart hammering in your chest and your mind so full of him, of the way he held you like you were fragile and ruined all at once.

The word lingered on your tongue—Daddy—and the thought of saying it out loud made your thighs press tighter around him.

Embarrassment flared in your stomach, but it was quickly drowned out by the fire he lit every time he touched you.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, brushing the hair from your flushed face. “What are you thinking about?”

You bit your lip, eyes locked on his. Maybe it was the afterglow talking. Maybe it was the way he was still inside you, making you feel so full, so connected, like he could reach into your soul and leave a mark. But the truth bubbled up anyway, hot and real.

“I was thinking…” You hesitated, cheeks burning. “…how badly I want you. How badly I want to give you everything—even if I’m not ready for what that means.”

“You already gave me everything..”

His words struck something deep inside you—a tenderness that made your chest ache more than the roughness ever could.

You blinked up at him, eyes glassy, lips parted. You could feel how hard he was trying to hold himself back now, his usual teasing edge traded for something raw, reverent. Like he was worshipping every inch of you just by being there. Just by staying.

He brushed his thumb over your cheek, the pad of it catching on the slight swell of your bottom lip. “You don’t have to be ready..” he murmured, voice low and honest. “Not for that. Not for anything you're not sure about. But if you ever are…” His gaze dropped to your lips, then lower—to where your bodies were still joined. “Just say the word, and I’ll give you everything.”

You whimpered, the sound caught somewhere between need and awe. Your hips shifted instinctively, a silent plea for more, even if your body was already spent and trembling.

The heat hadn’t left you—it only simmered lower, deeper, curling in your belly like a secret promise.

And he felt it. Of course he did. The faint movement. The soft squeeze of your walls around him. The way your eyes silently begged.

“Still not done with me?” he asked, teasing but gentle. “I don’t think I’ll ever be done with you.” you breathed, your fingers threading into the damp strands of his hair.

“I want you to ruin me, Ken. Again. Slowly this time.”

“Then we’ll take our time.”

© [ adorekento ] do not steal, repost, or translate my work.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@waynes-multiverse

Hi Wayne!! I was so excited to see your wonderful feedback 💚 I'm also very sorry this took me so long because April was long and May is already starting to spiral 😅

Aww, he’s already saving her. Why do I think that means something? 😂

Maybe.... 😉

Of course he did. Ben really always knows how to talk to the ladies 🙈

I know. He's soooooo charming isn't he? Doesn't he know just what to say to make a woman swoooonnn? 😒

Ooooh I’m sensing he doesn’t want her to walk home alone either. Someone already seems to have caught a little bit of feelings 😏

Pssshhhh... Girl, What? That's crazzzyyyy? Why would SB ever have feelings?

And I love that we have the same HC, Lee! I totally believe too that SB would just obnoxiously stare at a girl he likes – to the point it gets a little weird – and then cover it up with whatever stupid line comes to his mind lmao

Aww yay! I love that too! I honestly believe that the staring would be so uncomfortable- but he's just a baby (not for realsies but a baby when it comes to feelings LOL 🤣) and he doesn't know how to say what he's feeling! Well, doesn't know how to say what he's feeling in a healthy way 😭

Yep 💯 I’m already scared what Kripke will do to him in S5. At one point, is fanfic writers will have a hard time to redeem him 😅

Oh my word- ME TOO! I'm so scared that he's really gonna take him to the unredeemable place... I also feel like SB is gonna do something really bad in Vought Rising too and I'm frightened 😅 BUT that is what's fanfiction is for LOL

Ooooh? 👀 I’m guessing this is the finale at Vought Tower. I’m curious to see how you changed that ending. I always found that super hard due to Ryan (unless we pretend that kid was never there, which I’m fine with lol)

You're right! It is the finale at Vought Tower! 🤗 I don't go into too too much detail on that, but pieces of it are sprinkled through the fic 🥰 AND yes! For me it's kinda hard to write around the finale, because it's pretty set in stone. And I always give Ben the same job after in all my fics 😅 But it's funny because I just realized that I never mention Ryan in this fic at all 🤣 Whoops? Guess I forgot the brat LOL! But yes, let's just pretend he wasn't there 🤣

Oh, burn 😂

I was so proud of that zinger let me tell you 🤣

And I absolutely love her powers btw!!! 😍🌿🪴 Can I tell you a secret? My favorite superhero powers have always been either time or plant powers 😂💚

YES! Plant powers and earthbending powers are my favorite (time travel is super cool too)! I thought it was such a travesty that we haven't seen a plant supe in the Boys yet. I've got my fingers crossed for S5- if they do it justice 🤞🏻

Awwww, I hope she gets it 🥹 I honestly wanna give her a big hug. She sounds a little lonely (but maybe that won’t stay this way for long 😏)

She does deserve that though! I too wanted to give her a big hug when I was writing this. But I'm also happy you highlighted this little snippet, because that's a theme through this entire series. It comes up quite a lot 😅

And that high school boyfriend sounded like a real winner 🙄 (But good for her for locking that douche in a tree lol!!!)

Oh he was terrible 😒

Ah yes! Every woman’s worst nightmare 🙈 I’d be scared shitless for her, but knowing she has superpowers helps immensely with the anxiety. And I have a weird feeling SB will pop up, too, because he still didn’t want her walking home alone because he *cares* 😏💚 (That’s probably a curse word for him lol) And seriously, her powers are so freaking cool!!! 😍💚🪴🌿

Yep. The dreaded walk home 🫣 Oh yeah, definitely, the powers make it a little bit better, but still writing it I was anxiety city. I'm dead at "*cares* 😏💚 (That’s probably a curse word for him lol)" 🤣🤣 It's SO true- the one curse word he won't say.

Knew it!!!! Oh, Ben aren’t you just a fucking softie inside… Why you gotta be like this? 😂🙈💚

He's a big ol' softie- with a black heart of gold LOL. And I just had to drop in the touch her and die trope... because I can't be stopped. It's compulsion at this time point.

Also I love modern family, so watching Gloria beat up Jay like that on the gif was wonderful 💗

Oh, of course! Why am I not surprised, huh, Ben? 😏

He might have been taking a bigger interest in her well-being than he wanted to admit lol.

I’m sorry – you were gonna say? Before what, hmm? Oh, he’s already a complete goner, isn’t he? 😅💕 And of course he gave her an excuse and won’t admit to shit. A stroll? That’s what he’s going with. Who will buy that, Ben? You don’t look like the typical 2am stroller in the rain 😝 And it’s obvious he likes and that she’s at least attracted to his face when his mouth stays closed, but I’m honestly so fucking excited and curious to see how he will pull this off and win her over 👀 And I love his fucking argument of his attempt on her life being already a month ago 🤣🤣 Like bro, it ain’t the magic sentence you think it is lmao

Mhmm, man is already smitten.

Oh definitely... Ben always strolls in the middle of the night in the pouring rain. Doesn't everybody? No? LOL.

She is "attracted to his face when his mouth stays closed" 🤣☠️! I'm excited that you're excited to see how he wins her over! It is a wild ride, I'll say that much without saying too many spoilers lol.

And you're right, Ben is really out here like- it was a month ago, get over it! HE TRIED TO KILL HER! 🤣

Ugh, I hate when he’s a little right 🙄

He is. The one thing about the current century he understands 🤣

Whyyyyy, Benjamin?? Why are you like this? 😩

The toxic masculinity really coming in clutch at this point lol

Because dicks are hard 😏 I see myself out…

Actual footage of when I read this 👆🏻 GIRL STAWPPP, I'M DEAD 🤣🤣

Pffff, this is honestly so cute 😆💕 Yes, you use that excuse, gramps lol

I mean... imagine how awkward that is. THE POWER flickers! And Ben has supe hearing! I mean he's a little bit of a pervert, but I don't think he enjoys hearing that LOL.

Oh, Mike, you poor soul… 😂 And the fact that Butcher mocks him and he’s just oblivious to it all. Seriously poor guy lmao And of course, he was immediate cannon fodder for SB 🙈😆 But it says a lot when even Hughie had a hard time being nice to him lol But honestly, as much as she hated it, SB peacocking as her boyfriend probably gave Mike the rest. I was laughing so hard during that entire exchange 😂

The poor Mike trope is gonna trend this whole fic. Just wait til you meet Jake 🤣 And I know! Mike is one of those people who is just too precious for this world and he doesn't understand social cues like that 😭

Yep. The IMMEDIATE targeting system Ben has when he sees men who might be a little awkward and not so good around the ladies 🤣 I'm still cackling at "cannon fodder"- I love that usage here. BUT yeah, if Hughie is having a hard time then it must be almost impossible.

And yay! I'm glad you liked the exchange (peacocking LOL). It was my favorite part of this chapter- just the awkwardness and Ben being teasing and just (sexy) annoying.

Oh God 🫠🫠🫠 What I’d give to make out with this asshole 😩 (Probably had to give up feminism lol)

Ah yes, the day feminism took a vacation. I think I've seen that special, just like the "The Year Without A Santa Claus." 🤣 But oh yeah, my feminism would have to just shut it's eyes and put noise canceling headphones on.

Dead. I’m wheezing over here, Lee!!! 🤣🤣

Okay, hear me out. I love Mike's mother. She is literally my favorite side character in this entire fic. And she's just so wild, so unhinged (she's all of us). The more you see her in this fic, the funnier it is.

I’m sorry, my boy… but when exactly did we let you move in? God, he’s so fucking obnoxious sometimes 😂 So that’s his plan winning her over? Forced proximity? Why am I not surprised this is the best he could come up with. He probably thinks the Stockholm syndrome will help with his flirting lmao

Not the Stockholm syndrome 🤣🤣🤣 He really is obnoxious and the reader is just an inch away from throwing him off the roof!

I absolutely love that her apartment is full of plants!!! Total boho vibes 😍🌿 But hey, how neat! If they ever get together, she can grow weed for him 😆

Yes! Her apartment is the dream. I love plants so much- I have them all over my house so it was just so wonderful to write a reader like that 💚 And it's funny that you mention weed...

Gaaaah, I’m so hooked! I love their dynamic and can’t wait to see if she gives him a chance, and what he’ll do or how he’ll change to deserve it!!! Such a fantastic start to this series! 💚💚💚 And sorry for not getting here sooner or checking in with you more this month, friend! April was a little rough and I’m still majorly catching up with everything, but I’m so glad I finally get to read this wonderful series 🥰

Yay!! I'm so happy you like this one! It is again, another fic that was supposed to just be one chapter, but I fell in love with the reader and Ben and got turned into a series 😅

And oh no! Please don't apologize! I'm so sorry that I've been awol and haven't been able to read Time After Time! I loved the first chapter so much and I've just been running around like a chicken with it's head cut off for April and it's starting up again for May 😭 But it was so wonderful to read you comments friend! I hope that May is better for you than April 💗

Chapter 1: Are You Always Like This?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you’re around him the more you hate him, but you can’t help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Implied/Eventual), Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Fake Dating

Word Count: 7.4 K (OOPS)

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+/Mature because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension, violence. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

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

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: I know I know, I should be working on "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love," but this idea was swirling around in my head and I had to write it.

Spotify Playlist 🪴

Masterlist

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

"Alright Butcher, I'm done." You sigh closing the file in front of you and standing from the worn wooden table covered in empty Chinese food containers and stacks of papers almost as tall as you. "If I read another word about trying to stop an electrical current, I'm going to commit toaster bath and I'm taking you with me."

It was late, past two in the morning, but Butcher had a lead on a B-list supe that had been using his electrical powers to steal cars and run a chop shop business downtown. You had been close to catching him yesterday, so close in fact that your eyebrows were still a little crispy from when he shot a bolt of lightning at your face that you only dodged in the nick of time when Soldier Boy grabbed the back of your shirt and yanked you out of the way. Unfortunately, your shirt hadn't survived, it had ripped and you spent the rest of the day wearing one of Butcher's oversize Hawaiian shirts all the while Soldier Boy told you that it was a waste to keep a pretty little figure like yours covered up.

I hate him so much.

When Butcher had initially asked you to join his team a month ago you were excited, but then you found out that you were going to be stuck with Soldier Boy. The supe, that despite Annie's arguments should be given back to the government and put on ice, was allowed to join Butcher's team after he took down Homelander. Who was currently frozen on ice, somewhere. As long as Homelander was far from you, you didn't care. The guy gave you the creeps.

But the team still couldn't figure out where the electricity manipulating supe was hiding or where he was dropping the cars, which meant you had spent the past twelve hours staring at files and a computer screen so hard that you felt like your brain going to melt out of your ears.

"Do whatever ya want kid. I'm not ya damn babysitter." Butcher grunts, his face hidden behind his own file. His boots were on the table and he was leaning back in his chair so far that you were tempted to tip him over, all it would take was a good solid kick.

You smile at him. Butcher was adept at pretending that he didn't want you around, of course you knew how antsy he got when you weren't there to offer your opinion. You figured that he just liked pushing people away and given his history you understood that.

Annie sits up from where she and Hughie are cuddling on the couch. "Why don't you stay?" Her brow furrows with worry. Annie was big on the whole, "women not walking at home alone at night thing," which normally you didn't, but you figured that whatever was waiting outside the apartment was probably less intimidating than Homelander. And you could handle it.

"Because I'd like to sleep in my own bed tonight and not that godforsaken rickety cot in the corner that Frenchie got. Can't stand that one spring that always seems so happy to see me." You pull your leather jacket off of the back of the chair and whirl it around your shoulders, before bringing your hair out from under the collar.

Hughie snorts.

"Hey, that cot is an antique!" Frenchie crows from his highbacked chair spewing a mouthful of smoke into the air. Kimiko was sitting at the coffee table in front of him working on her writing, a thick black marker clutched in her hand. MM was taking the night off, but you thought he was probably trying to avoid Soldier Boy.

"Yeah well, that cot is about as old as grandpa over there." You gesture to where Soldier Boy is sitting in another one of the armchairs in the corner watching you while puffing on a joint.

He was always watching you and due to your inability to read his mind it made it difficult for you to gauge what he was thinking, but you assumed that it was the usual macho crap he spouted 100% of the time. But he wasn't checking you out, well this time he wasn't. You had caught him staring at your butt more than once, and he'd made several comments about exactly what he'd like to do to you, but right now an emotion glimmered behind his eyes that you couldn't place.

Soldier Boy stands from the chair. He was wearing a dark t-shirt that stretched over his chest and a pair of blue jeans that fit him just right, well, if you were looking at that. You were, but it was easier to pretend that you weren't. It was easier to pretend that he wasn't the most attractive man you'd ever seen in your life.

Damn it, why does someone so attractive have to be such a dick?

 "A lady like you shouldn't be walking home alone this late." He frowns at you.

"Like me?" You arch an eyebrow.

"Good thing she ain't a lady." Butcher chuckles at his joke

You punch him hard on the arm, not enough to break it, but enough to make it hurt.

“Bloody hell woman.” Butcher rubs his sore bicep shooting you an angry look.

Not many people could look intimidating while wearing a Hawaiian shirt, but Butcher pulled it off. Not many people looked good in a Hawaiian shirt either, but Butcher pulled that off too.

"I'm serious." Soldier Boy's eyes narrow.

"Oh now you're so chivalrous?" You cock your hip to the side, planting your hands on your hips. "Didn't you try to kill me last month?"

"To be fair, you were trying to kill me-"

"Because you were trying to kill Annie. Where was the chivalry when you tried to tear me apart with your bare hands?"

"There are plenty of other things I'd like to do to you with my bare hands sweetheart." His grin turns wolfish. "I'd be happy to show you sometime, perhaps you'd like some company?"

"I'd rather spend an hour with that ancient spring than roll around with you." You tap your lip thoughtfully. “Then again I’m sure that cot is the same age as you and it can at least get it up.”

Annie muffles a snort behind her hand.

“Last time I checked everything was working, perhaps you’d like to see for yourself?” Soldier Boy smirks.

 "Can't you keep in your pants for once?" Butcher sighs, tilting the file downward to glare at Soldier Boy.

You can't help but smile at Butcher's response. Butcher might have tried to push you away, but even you could see his protective instincts. That became wildly apparent whenever you went out on a mission alone and although you would think that it was annoying for someone to think they needed to protect you, in Butcher's case you made an exception.

Soldier Boy rolls his eyes. "She shouldn't walk home alone."

You wave your hand over the wilting fern on the kitchen counter, eyes shifting to green for a moment as it perks up. It was the only plant in the house and although six people lived in this apartment, not one ever remembered to water it. "And you shouldn't butt into my business."

Soldier Boy opens his mouth to speak, but Annie interrupts his train of thought.

"Wait y/n. Coffee tomorrow?" Annie asks ignoring them. She's sitting up from the couch, her body turned towards you with both of her hands on the back cushions.��

She was one of your best friends, well, really one of your only friends. You'd grown up together and when Annie moved to New York you had decided to move and take some college classes in the city while you worked at a small garden shop after class part time.

The owner still couldn't figure out why nothing you cared for seemed to die.

You usually kept your status as a supe on the down low, and only used your powers when you really had to, which wasn't often before you joined Butcher's team. You'd only lasted two semesters before Annie came to ask you for help finding Soldier Boy and after that, Butcher asked you to join his team for shit pay. You accepted but you still worked at the garden shop part-time, also for terrible pay, but you loved it there.

Your powers made it easy to make sure nothing died and sometimes it felt like home being surrounded by plants. Caring for them was the one thing you seemed to be good at, and sometimes they felt like family.

You didn't have much family left, beside your grandmother and your older brother who still lived back in Des Moines, and sometimes it was lonely in the city. Annie was the only person who you'd been able to connect with since you moved, and now that you weren't going to classes the friends you made in college didn't really understand what you were doing with your life.

And telling them "oh I hunt down supes for a living and sometimes kill them" didn't really sound like something you could say in passing. It also did wonders for your dating life… NOT.

"Sorry babe, I'm at the shop tomorrow. But I'm off at 3 if you want to get coffee after?" You hold open the front door of the apartment, looking back at her expectantly.

You hated blowing Annie off, especially since the two of you hadn't been able to hang out outside of missions mostly because she was spending all her time with Hughie.

"Sounds great!" She beams.

And with that you disappear out down the hallway and into the night.

It's raining as you walk down the desolate streets. Cars splash water over the gum covered sidewalks that soaks through your tennis shoes and makes every step against the ground squish. But you ignore it.

You usually loved when it rained, loved to feel the cooling water pool against your skin, loved to hear the soft patter of it against the windows of your apartment, loved the earthy smell that came with the drops, but not tonight. You were still thinking about Soldier Boy.

You don't know why you let him get under your skin so much. You'd met men like him in the past and it was usually easy for you to brush them off, but not him.

I mean yes he is gorgeous, and maybe kind of charming when he's not trying to get into my pants, but I don't want just a one night fling. I want what Annie and Hughie have.

You think about your best friend and her loving boyfriend. You tried not to be jealous, but it was hard when the last time you had a lasting relationship was your first boyfriend back in high school who, when he found out you were a supe, was only interested if you had the power to shape shift into someone 'a little more busty.' The relationship ended with you locking him in a tree and the fire department having to come cut him out. He was fine, maybe a little more green than a normal person, but...

You'd heard that he got a job from the Green Giant Vegetable Company doing cameos as the Jolly Green Giant. So if anything, you helped him have a career?

Annie and Hughie were both head over heels in love with each other, knew everything about each other, didn't have any secrets, and it wasn't just sex, it was a close relationship with someone else who understood every part of you. You wanted that; and as much as you had avoided relationships in the past due to your supe status, you still hoped to find a supe that was kind and didn't think that they were a god for what they could do.

Why do so many have a god complex?

You think again about Soldier Boy. That wasn't the first time he had tried to coax you into bed and it wouldn't be the last, that was for sure. At first you had hoped that he would give up, it had been a month since you'd met, but he was still going strong, despite having a different woman in that apartment almost every night.

Maybe he's just really horny after being trapped in a lab all these years. Then again- You remember all the articles you read about him from the 80s, the ones that recorded his numerous escapades and think about his founding of Herogasm.

Maybe he's always like that, but he never comes on to Annie or Kimiko, only me. And I've threatened castration multiple times. You'd think he would care more about that than anything else.

You consider with a frown, clutching your jacket tighter around you. Rain trickled down from your hair and under the collar of your jacket to soak into your t-shirt. Your once light blue jeans were soaked to a dark navy with the amount of water that splashed up from the road and dripped down your back. For the first time in forever, you wished that it wasn't raining.

Probably should have just gotten a cab, but it's so expensive and-

"Hey baby." Someone calls from behind you.

Can't I just walk home without being hit on? One time?

"Not interested." You shout back, continuing to squish down the cracked sidewalks.

Three shadows peel off the wall of shops to your left blocking your path forward. Each is wearing a dark colored hoodie hiding their faces from view.

Is my luck really this bad? I never hear about Annie getting mugged or Hughie. And Hughie definitely looks wimpier than me.

"Don't be like that baby." The man behind you says.

You half turn your body so you can see all your supposed attackers at once. There are actually two men behind you, both wearing similar hoodies to the three now standing on your right.

Oh look they color coordinated their outfits… cute.

The man opens his mouth again.

"I'm gonna stop you right there." You hold up a finger. "I've been dealing with a horny 104 year old  geriatric man all day long. Please don't push me right now." It was an attempt to warn them, but you knew they probably wouldn’t listen to you.

No one ever does.

"Sounds like you need someone to relax with." The man smirks steeping forward to grab your arm. "I'd be happy to ease some of that tension baby."

"Look. I'm going to give you a chance to walk away. To avoid making one of the biggest mistakes of your life. Because honestly you all have the worst luck in the world." You jerk your arm away from him.

"I like em feisty.” He purrs stepping forward again while the others laugh. “Come on baby-“

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You grab him around the throat, lifting him in the air like he weighs nothing, your eyes beginning to glow a brilliant green.

“I did try to warn you.”

"She's a supe!" He shouts struggling against your grip.

You throw him backwards into the other man standing to your right before facing the men on your left. Each one has pulled out a knife preparing to rush towards you.

"I get it. Y’all are out late, you bought matching outfits, but do we really have to-“

The first one rushes you, waving his knife through the air in a frantic dance. He doesn't get the chance to make contact with your arm. Vines erupt out of the pavement, breaking through the cracks in the concrete, binding themselves around the man who lets out a savage cry, quickly silenced while the vines continue to wrap around his body until there's nothing left but a mass of struggling green foliage on the pavement and some muffled screams.

He's lucky, could have had him dragged back under ground.

His friends stand there for a moment, eyeing one another as if they're not sure what just happened. You can practically see them trying to decide if you're still worth the trouble.

“Anyone else?”

The battle that follows is swift, the sound of cracking bones and the soft thud of punches landing echo over the soft patter of rain in the night as you dodge their blows and land your own against them. The vines continue to spread outward snatching up the men who fall to the ground in front of you, dragging each one up the street light above that sends yellowed light over the desolate streets. By now each bound body hangs from above like a sack of meat in a meat cooler, moving with the struggling men inside while the muffled cries shatter the still silence of the night.

Sometimes it's really too easy.

And as you begin to turn back someone grabs you by the hair, yanking you into their sweaty embrace. The leader's hot breath sticks to your cheeks, the cool metal of his switchblade pressing down so hard on your throat that you feel the pinprick of blood begin to form under the tip.

“What are you gonna do now bitch?” He snarls in your ear.

"Give you one more chance to surrender." You spit.

Like I'm going to give him the satisfaction of me begging for my life.

"I'm gonna enjoy this-" The man begins to say, pressing the knife deeper into your throat, but the rest of his sentence is cut off with a strangled cry as he's pulled away from you.

 What the hell just-

You turn around, freezing in shock.

Soldier Boy is crouching there in his t-shirt, jacket, and jeans over the man who just had a knife to your throat. His fist rising and falling as he punches the man in the face.

"Don’t you ever touch her." Soldier Boy snarls. His fist is already covered in blood, the man’s face a mass of bloodied tissue and bone.

"Stop you're going to kill him-" You run forward to stop Soldier Boy, but he doesn't stop even when you try to grab on to his hand.

"I said STOP." You shout louder, this time manipulating a vine to wrap around Soldier Boy's arm and restrain it.

Fuck he might already be dead.

"Let me go." Soldier Boy's eyes narrow. The usual green was replaced by a darkened pit with his rage. You'd only ever seen him this mad a handful of times, one of which was when the supe tried to zap you like a fly in one of those insect traps two days ago.

Why is he angry?

"I'm not going to let you go, until you promise not to kill him."

"I should." He snarls back at you.

"What are you talking about?"

He stands from the body, eyeing the last attacker who runs full speed down the sidewalk and vanishes into the darkness.   "I should kill him for trying to hurt you." Soldier Boy says simply.

You wave your hand allowing the vine to let go of his arm. "Where do you come off so high and mighty? You literally tried to kill me last month."

"That was before I-" He shakes his head angrily, eyes still blazing.

"Look I don't need you to protect me. Given what I've had to deal with all day I was looking forward to kicking some ass."

"You did." He smirks nodding his head in the direction of the men hanging from the streetlamp above you. “I just thought that you were outnumbered.”

"Why are you here?" You sigh pinching the bridge of your nose.

"I wanted to go for a stroll." Soldier Boy shrugs. He flexes his hand, before wiping the blood on the front of the sweatshirt of the man on the ground.

"Uh-huh. Well I don't need you to protect me." You say again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I had this handled."

"You sure doll?"

"Look I get it- you think that you're some knight in shining armor because you have this macho complex. But I'm fine on my own." You begin to step around the bodies of the men on the ground moving in the direction of your apartment, but Soldier Boy follows you.

"Where do you think you're going?" You turn to look at where he falls into step beside you.

"You shouldn't be walking home alone."

"Well you're sure as hell not going home with me."

His lip turns up in a smirk, towering over you. Soldier Boy is easily a foot taller than you, so broad that it's impossible to look past his imposing figure. It would be attractive if he wasn't so damn annoying. "Come on sweetheart, I know you want me to go home with you." He purrs with a smile. "I think you'd really enjoy it if I did. And I'll even let you tie me up with those pretty vines of yours." Ben leans in towards your face and you take a step back.

"Hard pass. So what? Is this your big move? Acting all chivalrous just to get a woman into bed with you?"

"That depends, is it working?"

"No. Now go back to the apartment, before I send you there in pieces." You turn back to squish down the sidewalk at a faster pace, hoping he will get a hint and leave you alone. But you knew he wouldn’t stop. He practically thrived on teasing you, had been the bane of your existence since you met him. And nothing seemed to dissuade him.

"What is your problem with me?" He jogs to catch up. "And don't say that it's because I tried to kill you, that was last month-"

"I think that's applicable to this week and the week after that and the week after that." You count out with every finger to further emphasize your point, but you know that Soldier Boy won't give up that easy.

"Are you always this fucking angry?" He almost laughs.

"I don’t know. Are you always this fucking annoying?" You turn to face him narrowing your eyes.

Soldier Boy chuckles at your look, running a hand through his hair that has darkened in the spray of water, his green eyes watching you curiously. They were shinning now, not the blacked pits of hate they were when he was beating the guy two minutes ago. For a second, just for a second, you see how handsome he is all over again.

"Come on, give me a real answer and I'll leave you alone." He's smiling at you now, giving you one of those boyish grins that, if it were anyone else, would make your heart stop.

He just wants sex. He doesn't care about you. He won't ever care about you. Breathe.

"Fine." You sigh. "You might say you're a supe, but you're not a hero. People like you and Homelander, you don't care about anyone but yourself. You use your powers for you and on your own terms. You were going to kill that guy-" You gesture back towards where the body is still on the ground, the man's heart beat is dangerously low.

"He was threatening you. A thank you might be nice." Soldier Boy's cheeks flush as he glares down at you with darkened eyes, his anger surging back in his chest.

"Yes he was threatening me, but I'm okay and you could have just taken him to jail. You didn't have to beat his face in."

"So you're saying if he had been attacking someone else you wouldn't have done the same?"

"I would have subdued him and then waited for the police to get there. The men hanging from the streetlight aren't dead. We aren't the law-"

"Right so those guys can get off with a warning and then go on and do the same thing over and over again." He scoffs rolling his eyes at you.

"It doesn't give you the right to kill them."

"I suppose you don't believe in the death penalty either."

"I believe in the death penalty Gramps. I just don't believe it is our job to carry it out." Your temper was flaring against your skin distracting you from the chill of the rain as it soaked into your clothes.

"Do you have any idea how many women would love to be saved by me?" Soldier Boy asks. He shakes his head as if he can't understand you.

You didn't blame him, most people didn't, that was why you spent most of your time alone.

"I'm not one of them. So leave me alone." You turn to go.

Honestly, why is this the kind of guy I attract? You roll your eyes to yourself. Oh you mean, tall, dark, handsome, gorgeous- The other little voice in your head whispers in your ear. NO. You tell yourself. Please I just want one guy who's not a total dick. Why is that so hard?

"I still don't think it's a good answer." He huffs.

"Of course you don't." You roll your eyes and begin to walk again. The streetlamps above send an eerie yellow glow over the parked cars along the road and over the crackled pavement. If Soldier Boy wasn't here bothering you, you might have stopped to admire the water as it splashed underneath the suspension bridge beyond the crowded buildings, but you wanted to get home. Without him if possible.

You glance over at Soldier Boy again. He looks normal right now, always does when he's not wearing his suit. And when he shut up you could see why people were so in love with him. It was when he opened his mouth that it reminded you exactly why you didn't like him.

You stop in front of your apartment building and force yourself to smile. "Thank you for walking me home." You say through tight lips, hoping that the false sincerity will make him leave.

He gazes up at your building with a frown. "This is a pretty shitty apartment building."

"Thank you. Not all of us inherited millions of dollars from our parents."

He pauses for a moment continuing to look up at the building, before he sighs loudly. "Look, I-." He sighs again. "I can't take listening to Annie and Hughie fucking. They go at it every night and she always makes the power go off."

You knew that already. It was another reason why you didn't like staying at the apartment, because listening to your best friend get railed by her boyfriend was not your idea of a good time.

You look up at Ben, and for a second you see a glimmer of the truth, just a flash of something that wasn't like the misogynistic attitude he usually had and it made you pause. He almost looked, sad and it made you feel bad for him. Of course you felt bad for him before, when you found out his entire team just gave him away to be experimented on and when probably the woman that he'd come the closest to loving really didn't care about him at all.

It must be incredibly lonely to come back to a world where almost everyone you know is dead. Guilt builds in your chest at the thought. I had lost my fair share of people, but not everyone in my life and I certainly didn’t learn about it on the same day.

"You know I think that's the first honest thing you've ever said to me." You say quietly shifting from foot to foot.

He half-smiles. "Maybe."

You chew on the inside of your cheek considering. You weren't afraid of him. You knew that with your powers you could take him. You were stronger than most and harder to kill. And despite the bad things you thought about him and knew about him, you kinda thought he was relatively harmless, well, you didn't think he was a rapist.

"Fine. But you're staying on the couch. And if I wake up and you're anywhere near my bedroom, I'll castrate you." You warn as walk up to the front doors and type in the code to unlock them, with Soldier Boy following behind you.

When you make it to the third floor, you raise one hand to stop him from going any further. It falls against his muscular chest and you fail trying not to admire how it feels beneath your hand.

Why am I so thirsty?

"If you wanted to grab my chest doll, all you had to do was ask-" Soldier Boy begins to say, but you raise the hand to cover his mouth.

"Shh." You hiss. "We have to be quiet or Mike will come out-"

"Who?" He asks, muffled against your hand.

You hear a door down the hallway creak open, spilling yellowed light onto the dark blue carpet of the hallway. "Shit. Too late."

Mike steps out of his apartment with a wide smile as soon as he sees you. "HEY y/n!" He crows, waving his free hand enthusiastically. "I didn't know you were getting in so late, but I wanted to give you this." Mike holds out a giant casserole dish filled with something that you can't identify. It's multi colored with multiple layers, one of which looks suspiciously like rice and the next layer looks like cake.

There's no way I'm eating that. Maybe if I force feed it to Soldier Boy he'll leave me alone.

Mike was your neighbor, your neighbor who had lived next door to you for the past 2 years and was shamelessly in love with you. And as sweet as he was, there were a few things that you couldn't get past, most namely that he lived with his mother and that he had a mullet.

One time you'd had a nightmare about it ripping itself from his head, breaking in to your apartment, and smothering you in your sleep.

Not fun.

"Hey Mike." You smile tightly at him, dropping your hand from Soldier Boy's mouth. "Yeah I'm sorry I was out with some friends."

"You should have asked me to come! I love your friends." Mike smiles so wide you're afraid that it's going to break his face. “Especially Butcher. He’s so funny. Always joking-"

Poor Mike.

Every time that Butcher had come over to talk shop, he would mock Mike endlessly. And Mike was just too sweet to realize it. Hughie was the only one who actively tried to be nice to Mike, but even he found it difficult. Annie was the worst though, she'd tease you constantly about what your children would look like and had taken to photoshopping mullets onto pictures of babies and sending them to you at inopportune times.

"Maybe next time." You cough out an awkward laugh while Soldier Boy snorts behind you.

You continue down the hallway towards your apartment, the door next to his, and hope that he'll go back into his home, but no such luck.

“My mom made this for you!” He holds the dish out towards you.

“Oh um that’s so nice of her. But I can’t except that-“

Mike's mother comes to stand in the doorway of their shared apartment. She was wearing a bright purple Mumu, her makeup caked thickly on her face and her eyes accentuated with bright blue eye shadow. “Sure you can sweetie. You’re Mike’s special friend.” She winks before trailing her eyes up and down your body. “And you’ve got such a cute little figure.” His mother does a little shimmy as if trying to get you to do the same.

Kill me now.

“That’s what I keep telling her.” Soldier Boy purrs behind you.

“Don’t make me kill you.” You mutter back, knowing full well he can hear you with his super-hearing.

Oddly enough Mike does look suspiciously like his mother, they are both the same height, exactly three inches under you, and have the same mullet, but hers is a shocking blue-gray and his is jet black.

He blushes at her words. “Aww mom.”

Soldier Boy muffles a laugh before disguising it into a cough. You elbow him hard in the stomach.

“Well thank you.” You take the casserole dish with one hand, hoping that you can open the door and usher Soldier Boy in before he makes a comment. "I've had a long day and it's really late-"

“I helped her make this one.” Mike interrupts scooting closer to you, so close that you get a lungful of his terrible cologne, the one that the super sells for four dollars and smells like baby powder and Cheez-its.

“A man who can do it all.” Soldier Boy whispers to you.

Mike looks above your head as if noticing Soldier Boy for the first time. “Who’s that? I thought I knew all your friends.”

“He’s certainly very handsome-“ Mike's mother blushes from the doorway.

“Your brother?” Mike offers.

You can see his expression turn hopeful.

Probably thinking about how he can become friends with "said brother" and that will escalate our "relationship." 

“I’m Ben.” Soldier Boy says, stepping around you to shake Mike’s hand. “I’m y/n's boyfriend.”

Your cheeks bloom a bright pink, unable to respond to the ridiculous statement that he just made.

Murder. That's what sounds good right now.

“Oh.” Mike’s face falls. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” His eyes flick back to you, disappointment swimming in the irises.

You watch Mike’s hope begin to circle the drain.

“Well actually-“ You begin, but Soldier Boy interrupts you.

“Sorry I’ve been out of town for a while. We've been trying to do this long distance thing- you know how it is, late night phone calls-“ Ben trails off with a wolfish grin before dropping an arm around your shoulders. “But I just couldn’t take the long distance. Missed her too much. Phone call isn’t the same as sleeping in the same bed. Definitely not as satisfying. Not to mention there’s only so much my hand can do.”

Your cheeks bloom an even brighter red at his insinuation.  That’s when Soldier Boy does something even more unforgivable, he pulls you tighter against him and kisses you right there in front of Mike and his mother. The kiss is searing, making everything in your mind go blissfully blank. It had been so long since someone kissed you, since someone had held you this close to them without trying to kill you. His tongue teases your bottom lip and before you can stop yourself you open your mouth wider to let him in sighing softly against his lips, while you grip the front of his jacket.

For a moment you can’t remember why you didn’t want him to kiss you, why you denied yourself of this for so long. And then Soldier Boy's hand slides from your back to grab a handful of your ass.

Right.

You slap him so hard across the face that you're sure it would have broken the cheekbone of anyone who wasn’t a supe.

But Soldier Boy only grins wider, squeezing your butt again. “She knows that I like it a little rough.” He turns his lazy gaze back to Mike.

You open your mouth to cuss him out.

“Well we should probably get going.” Soldier Boy breezes. “Probably going to be a long night. If you know what I mean. But we’ll try to keep it down. Then again my girl's a little loud.” He winks at your poor neighbor who looks like he might cry, while his mother stands behind him fanning herself like Soldier Boy is everything she wants in a man.

He's ten for ten with the older ladies I'll say that.

“Oh right. Well I guess I’ll see you around y/n.” Mike turns to go.

“Mike wait-“ You try to say but he’s already vanishing through the door.

“Nice to meet you Mark.” Soldier Boy calls at his retreating figure, getting his name wrong on purpose.

You don’t even use your key to open the door you're so mad, the plants inside let you in. As soon as it opens, you haul Soldier Boy by the front of his jacket through the doorway and pin him to the wall just inside.

The casserole dish lands on your counter and by some miracle doesn’t break.

“What the hell is your problem?” Your hand is fisted in the front of his shirt, eyes blazing with anger and embarrassment.

He only grins. “You didn’t want me to play along? Sounded like that guy had been trying to get into your pants for a while. Unless he already has been or you want him to?"

You flush a deeper shade of crimson. "That is absolutely none of your business!"

“Well if we’re going to be living together doll, I’m pretty sure it is my business.”

“WE AREN'T LIVING TOGETHER I'M JUST LETTING YOU CRASH ON THE COUCH TONIGHT AND THEN YOU'RE GONE.” You shout.

“I think you’re gonna get pretty attached to me sleeping here. Maybe even  you let me sleep in your bed and even fu-“

You knock him back against the wall again. “If you finish that sentence I’m going to throw you out the window.”

“If you keep knocking me around, Mike's going to think you’re into some pretty kinky stuff.” Soldier Boy smirks down at you. “It’s actually turning me on a bit. Is it turning you on?”

“I don’t have to let you stay here.” You growl, releasing him.

“I think it’s because you like me.” He teases.

“I don’t.” You frown grows. “Okay couch is there goodnight.”

You point in the direction of the worn leather couch. You'd hauled it up three flights of stairs with Annie when you first moved in after you found a guy online selling it for nothing. And when you showed up to get it, he presumed to say it would be free if you let him take a picture of your feet. And after, when he had a black eye and a fun story to tell his wife, he gave you the couch for nothing as promised.

“No kiss goodnight?” Soldier Boy pouts his lips innocently.

“You already had one of those.” You snap thinking about slapping him again and trying hard not to think about how much you wanted to kiss him again.

Get a grip.

“Right. You liked it.”

“No I didn’t. And the next time you shove your tongue into my mouth I’ll bite it off.”

“You’re really violent for such a little thing.” Soldier Boy eyes you up and down as if sizing you up.

“And you’re really dick-like for someone who’s supposed to have the wisdom of the ages.” You turn towards the hallway intent on going to bed to avoid any more conversation with him.

"Whoa." You hear Soldier Boy say as he looks into your living room.

It was the reaction that everyone had when they entered your apartment. You had a small one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a building that you believed might be older than Soldier Boy. The kitchen and living room was mostly one room, the kitchen to the left with outdated appliances and a small circular wooden table with three chairs that served as your kitchen table and desk, and was separated by the large leather aforementioned couch that faced the wall that held two large windows. Beyond the front door was a small hallway that held the only bathroom in the apartment and your bedroom.

But that's not what was surprising.

Every open space in your apartment was covered in plants. There wasn't a single piece of unused space in your apartment. There were large standing monstera and fiddle leaf figs shoved into every corner and pots of dark green pothos bolted into the walls trailing vines to the ground so that every wall looked alive. Jasmine crept along the wall behind the tv that sat on an antique credenza between the two windows, sending the bright scent into the living room.

There was a large rectangular box bolted in the space above your sink where herbs and tomatoes hung down, probably a fire hazard, but you didn't care. The vibrant smell of mint, the spicy smell of rosemary, and soft tones of oregano and basil fused the air in your apartment with a life force that was impossible to ignore.

A large apple tree grew in a pot as big around as you next to the couch, with brilliant red apples hanging from it's branches, while a lemon tree and a tangerine tree intertwined their branches just behind the kitchen table.  The refrigerator, once white, was covered in the tangled vines of blackberry and raspberry, hanging with full fruit, while a potted strawberry plant sits prettily on top of the kitchen table, the bright red fruit enticing.

It was a lot. You knew it was a lot, but helping plants grow was the only thing you were good at, the only thing that felt right. One day you hoped that you could move somewhere and open a farmers market, but today you were stuck here, with Soldier Boy, who probably thought that you were crazy.

"I mean. I knew you had plant powers but this is-" He begins to say.

"A lot. I know." You roll your eyes. "The bathroom is down the hall." You gesture with your free hand towards the darkened hallway. "I guess I'll get you a pillow."

Ben is still looking around the room dumbfounded, as if he's never seen anything like this in his life, and he probably hasn't.

He's been in a Russian Lab for the past forty years, I mean he's probably not used to seeing anything this green.

You find the extra pillow in the linen closet along with one of the crocheted granny square blankets you made last year when Annie and you had a Jaws movie marathon, and a towel, before you move back into the living room.

Ben is still standing awkwardly by the couch as if he's not sure what to do, and it's the first time you've seen him look lost.

"Here." You throw him the pillow and the towel before you drape the blanket over the back of the couch. "One night."

"Why are you working for Butcher?"

"What?" The question catches you off guard. You were expecting him to make another pass at you, maybe check you out again. He was looking at you, but it was different, his gaze was softer, curious.

"You don't seem like you-" He gestures around the room. "Like you fit."

You blink for a second. "Um."

"I mean Annie used to be one of the Seven, Hughie does whatever the fuck Butcher tells him, but you you're different." His brow furrows together as if he can't figure you out.

"I really don't want to do this with you."

"This?" He looks confused again.

"Opening up with one another. You're here for one night. That's it." You force yourself to say, but the reality was you were still surprised, surprised that he actually seemed to care.

Stop. He's changing tactics because nothing else worked. He's pretending to care about you because he still wants to sleep with you.

"Please."

You can't answer for a second. It was the first time that he'd said that word in front of you before, or acted this way. It was also the first time that it had just been the two of you, before Butcher had been there or Frenchie or Annie and Hughie, but this was the first time that the two of you had been left alone.

Maybe that's why?

You hesitate before you answer, he was the last person you really wanted to open up to.

"I don't know, it's not all that bad." You shrug. "Before I didn't really use my powers all that much except like this." You gesture around the room for emphasis. "And when I went to college everyone was so serious about their futures and I didn't really like any of the classes. The only thing I enjoyed was using my powers at Please Don’t Die, the plant store I work at. And then Annie asked me to come help her out-" You bite your cheek. "She's my best friend and maybe I wanted to spend more time with her."

"But is it what you really want?" He cocks his head to the side, holding the pillow in one hand and the towel in the other.

You'd never seen him look so calm before, relaxed, like being here with you was washing away any anger or frustration he still had about the past. It was confusing, and at the same time you could feel your heart beginning to betray you. It was hard not to fall for him when he looked so good, eyes soft, dark hair falling into his eyes, clothes still dripping rain on your hardwood floors.

No. I will not fall in love with him, I will not fall in love with-

"Goodnight Soldier Boy. I'll see you in the morning." You turn to go, ignoring his final question.

"You can call me Ben." He almost whispers it, the sound of his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine.

"What?" You look back at him.

"You never call me Ben. But you can, if you want." He shrugs his shoulders, before he shakes his head as if he's annoyed with himself for suggesting it. "Never mind, just fucking forget about it-"

"Goodnight Ben." You feel the end of your mouth twitch up into a smile and with that you disappear into your bedroom, locking the door behind you.

And deep down you know that it's not to keep him out, but to keep you in.

As always, thank you so much for reading!

If you liked this story be sure to read my follow up fic that takes place in the future:

Open Mic Night!

Or if you'd like to read another series please try:

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love!

If The Stars Wish It So

A/N: I know it's crazy to start another series right now, but I'm kinda feeling this reader and Ben together? What do y'all think about it?

A/N: Update I've made a huge mistake and started another series.

If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know!

(Photos for series picture from Pinterest)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[mattsnight]

𐔌 . ⋮ sub!matt cums without permission .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

warnings: smut, handjob, cursing, petnames…

A/N: get to reading yall! also thanks for 1.2k followers!!

“oh you’re doing so good, baby.” you say as you slide your hand up and down matt’s pre-cum covered cock. His head is thrown back and his hands are tightly gripping the couch. He whimpers pathetically, thoroughly turned on by your praise. You can feel his hips move in time with your hand, seeking more friction. "Yes, I'm being good," he whines, "I'm being such a good boy for you..."

A small smirk forms on your face by his words. You feel yourself grow wetter within seconds. “Mmm you gettin’ closer?” He nods vigorously, his eyes squeezed shut as he chases his release. "Mhmm, so close," he gasps out. You can feel his body tensing up, signalling he’s close. "Your hand feels so good, mama…”

He feels his release come closer and closer, but before he can let go, you start speaking. “Hold it for me, okay?” Matt's eyes fly open, his breath coming in short, desperate pants. "Fuck," he whimpers, trying to hold back his orgasm. His body shakes with the effort. "I-I'll try,"

your lips move to his neck, kissing his sweet spot. Matt shudders violently as your lips touch his neck. The sensitive spot combined with your hand working him makes it nearly impossible to hold back. "Baby, I can't..." he whines, his voice breaking. His hands claw at the sheets, nails digging into the fabric. "I'm gonna..."

“youre doing so good, sweetheart.” You murmur, kissing his head as a sign of comfort. The praise and gentle kiss push him right to the edge. With a desperate cry, he finally loses control, his body convulsing as he cums hard in your hand. "I'm sorry!" he wails, tears springing to his eyes from the intensity of holding it back for so long.

After a moment he calms down. Slow, heavy pants leave his mouth as he turns to look at you in shame. “m’sorry..”

“hey its okay—“

He blinks up at you, his eyes glassy and filled with emotion. He looks absolutely wrecked and beautiful, his face flushed, lips red from biting. A few sniffles leave his mouth. "I really tried to be good..."

“You were really good. Im so proud of you for holding it that long, yeah?” You say with a small smile on your face. He nods slowly, his hand reaching up to gently touch your face. "I did good?" he asks softly, seeking confirmation and reassurance.

“So so good.. my favourite boy.”

——

sub!matt is everything i need in my life right now. 😩😩

send in requests and i’ll write them !!<3

[tinyraptorhands]

Pro Hero, Pro Mama, No Problem pt. 6

((MDNI! TW: smut, and of course, unfortunately self body shaming. Oh, and poopy baby diaper.))

Katsumi was in a cute little onesie, an All Might one-courtesy of Katsuki when he first found out you were pregnant.

"Look, I didn't get it-some fan gave it to me when I was out on patrol!" He had said at the time.

Lies, of course. You saw the receipt crumbled in his jacket pocket.

Well, here she was, sporting it-and it fit, too! Just in time for Kirishima's party. You even slid a matching bow in her hair.

And of course, little matching socks that it came with.

As you hoisted her off the changing table, Katsuki looked at her.

"Isn't she cute??" You cooed, holding her up like a trophy. She made a gurgling sound, chubby fist in her mouth. Katsuki stared.

And reached for his phone. You frowned. "Don't get me in the picture, m'not ready yet."

"Oi, don't get your granny panties in a twist. Lower her so I can take a good shot." He said, and you did so.

"They're maternity underpants, jerk." You mumbled, looking down at your tank top and underpants look. "Besides, I'm not wearing these ones to the party."

He clicked the picture, and of course you were in it. But he wouldn't tell. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and held out his arms. "Give 'er here. Go get ready. Know it takes you an age to do dumb shit." He huffed. You did, and kissed his cheek.

His ears went a little red. He didn't think he would ever get used to that.

Before he could even turn to look at you leave, he heard a wet rumble.

Katsumi made a grunt sound. Katsuki winced.

"Really? While I'm holding you?" He asked, mock annoyance. Katsumi answered in another grunt, and the little girl's bottom vibrated.

Katsuki grimaced. "...Ah, shit."

Literally.

Meanwhile, you were doing your best to fight your inner demons. You had taken a quick shower, and all that was left was to put on some clothes.

Right.

You bit your lip, ignoring your full length mirror as you grabbed a sundress from your closet. It was a long, flowing number-pale cornflower blue with lace at the edges. It went down to your ankles, and had tiny white dots all over. It wasn't too bad. You bought it when you were starting to show, it being stretchy and comfortable enough to wear for a growing belly.

Or, at least hide a body you still weren't proud of anymore. You threw on a cream colored cardigan, loose and slouchy and grabbed some cream colored slip on sneakers to match. You threw your hair up into a high pony tail, put in some cute daisy stud earrings and finished off the look with some light make up.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling hesitant. You stared.

Was this too much? Was...it okay to dress like this? You were a mom now, after all. Was there an unspoken dress code to follow?

You didn't know. But you did feel...

Different.

Try-hard.

You took a breath, in through the mouth and out through the nose.

'I am not a try-hard. I am (y/n) Bakugo. I am (h/n) and wife of Katsuki Bakugo. I am a mother, a pro hero, a wife and I am amazing at all I put my mind to.' You thought.

This self affirmation stuff was...eh. Maybe you needed to say it out loud, like the therapist said.

"If you keep saying it, your brain eventually believes it." Naomi had said.

You found that hard to believe.

You just felt like an idiot, staring at yourself in the mirror and repeating the mantra.

Eventually, you heard a loud, "AH SHIT NOT MY SHIRT!" And sighed.

That could only mean one thing.

After a shirt change on Katsuki's end, and a fresh diaper change, the three of you were ready. You strapped Katsumi in, tucking a Pinky plush Mina had sent when she heard you were expecting. Katsumi liked to chew on the horns.

You slipped into the passenger seat, and Katsuki looked behind him. "She good?"

"Yup. You?"

He grimaced. "I still feel the shit clinging to my stomach..." he grumbled. Katsumi had pooped on you plenty of times before, and you chuckled. "Oi, ain't funny. It's gross." He huffed.

You snorted. "Welcome to the baby shit club, be glad it's not on the walls yet."

"What do you mean, 'yet'??" He looked concerned. You laughed.

"Again, your mom told me-"

He interrupted you with a loud, "Haaah?! Don't you dare tell me she told you lies-"

"-That you grabbed your poopy diaper at one year old-"

"I DIDN'T DO SHIT-"

At this point you both were talking over eachother, and soon it turned into you laughing and him scowling. As he made a turn, he grunted.

"Gonna send that old hag into a home, I swear."

You just laughed.

When you pulled up into the condominium's guest parking lot, you took a small breath through your nose. He looked over at you.

"You sure?" He asked, voice uncharacteristically soft. You nodded.

His hands drummed a little on the wheel. "...Oi."

"Hm?" You looked over at him, fingers twisting in your dress.

"...You look pretty tonight. Not..." he sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, "not that you don't usually, just...different pretty." He rested his hand over his mouth, elbow propped on the edge of the car door window. His other hand still drummed on the wheel.

A kind of nervousness suddenly hung in the air.

Like the kind you felt all those years ago, on your first date with the man next to you.

It was a pleasant nervousness-the kind that made your heart race and butterflies tango in your stomach.

His hand slipped off the wheel, and slowly inched to your thigh, fabric bunching slightly. You moved your hand near his, but he brushed underneath it. You then saw his destination as he paused over your clothed inner thigh.

Oh.

Your breath hitched. He gave a soft squeeze.

Slowly, you looked at him. "...H-here?" He kept staring out the window, until his other hand dropped from his face, turning to you.

"Baby's asleep in her carrier." He said softly. "We can be quick." He carefully unbuckled his seat belt. You swallowed.

"...How quick?" You whispered as he crawled over the console.

"Quick enough to make us both happy." He yanked your dress up, and he took note of your panties. "You really did switch out, huh? I remember these," he pulled the white lace thong aside, with one finger. "Got these for ya." As he parted your folds, your hand grabbed his wrist. He looked up.

"Wait." You found yourself saying. He gave you a confused look. "Just...can I do you first?"

He wasn't about to argue, as he slipped the panties back into place. Your core throbbed, but you restrained yourself as you pushed him gently back to the driver's seat, his throat bobbed. "Me first, huh?" He said huskily. You nodded, unzipping his denim jeans.

You carefully swallowed around him, body bent over the console, one hand fondling his heavy balls and the other perched on his muscular thigh. Drool collected at the base of his cock, making his darker blonde pubes dewy. His hand gripped your hair carefully, his teeth gritted. He grunted quietly, muffling his usual sounds so as not to wake Katsumi.

It wasn't like you both were new to this. If the mood struck, and of course, if he was even around-you two mastered the art of quiet lovemaking.

Somewhat.

Because he still sounded like he was gonna pop a vocal chord from how much he was holding in his voice.

You almost enjoyed it.

As you suddenly deep throated him, he cursed quietly and quickly. "Fuck, shit!" You felt him try to pull you off, but you stayed. You felt his spend hit the back of your throat in hot spurts, and your eyes watered as you held in your gag reflexes.

You swallowed audibly. He looked like he was about to faint, his chest and arms shaking with his pulse. "Shit..." he gasped out softly. "Such a good girl..." he moaned quietly, his head tilting back against the headrest.

You gently released him, tongue dragging purposefully over the underside and swirled around his head. He hissed at the overstimulated feeling.

You carefully sat up as he released your hair, and popped open the visor. You checked the mirror.

Not bad. You made a mental note to give a good review on the lipstick and mascara you wore. As you touched up your hair, you felt him move again, towards you. "Oh, I'm okay."

He blinked. "Hah? The hell you mean, 'I'm okay'?? I wanna see my wife cum." He went to move, and you grabbed his wrist again.

"Katsuki, I said I'm good."

Truthfully...you had been doing this for a bit. You had been shying away from him pleasuring you. Only once or twice since post partum had he been able to see you cum-and it took alot of convincing on his part.

Its not like you didn't want it, oh no. Far from it.

It's more like...Well.

The voice in your head was a bitch and a bully.

"When we get home, okay? I don't wanna mess up my look." You said, grabbing a small hairbrush from your purse. He scoffed, and leaned back on the driver's seat.

"Fine." He said gruffly.

And as if Katsumi had a mind for it, she was on cue-crying.

"Let's get outta here and into Shitty Hair's place, yeah?" He opened up the car door, and went around the other side to grab Katsumi. You slipped your hairbrush back into your purse and reached behind you, grabbing her diaper bag and the small assorted cakes from your local bakery.

"Yeah." You said silently, ignoring the aching arousal in your wet cunt.

Your gross, damaged, slimy, loose, droopy-

You pinched the back of your hand, punishing the voice in your head.

'Thats enough.' You answered the voice, a thought dropping like a penny in a sea of self loathing.

As you both made it to the door, Katsuki grabbed the diaper bag with his other hand, Katsumi snug against his other side. "I got this, ma." He smirked. You raised an eyebrow, the new nickname throwing you off momentarily.

"Okay," You chuckled, adding: "...daddy."

He coughed a little, Katsumi making a small noise.

"That..." before he could say anything, you pressed the intercom on the side.

A voice crackled, "Be right there!" Kirishima, obviously.

The door began to open.

Your anxiety wavered.

Time to be a normal, functioning human.

((Okay, it's kinda filler. But the sexy kind. I think I know what I wanna do for the next chapter, but I had to shorten this one because I am legit running on fumes. Let's hope I get at least four hours tonight! Wheeee...))

[supernatural-sable]

motel birthday cake (sam winchester x fem reader)

summary: it's sam's birthday, and you make him a cake! 1616 words

tags: established sam x reader, fluffy birthday shenanigans, hunter!reader (though that doesn't really come into play), reader is referred to with fem pronouns/terms

admin note: this is my first time ever posting my writings on tumblr!! i'm so excited, and i really hope you enjoy if you decide to read <3

—

An apron, the fabric of which is thoroughly covered in flour, hangs around your neck, its straps tied comfortably around your waist. Today is special— the most special day of the year, if you have anything to say about it.

It's Sam's birthday. Your beautiful, tall, handsome, sweet, darling boyfriend. Some time ago he had offhandedly mentioned to you that he hadn't had a proper birthday celebration since his college days. Dean always went out of his way to buy him a coffee or something sweet, but no real parties. They had demons and all sorts of supernatural entities to hunt, after all— that took precedent over a holiday.

For you, however, nothing in the world is more important than making Sam feel special on his day.

It has been hours since you begun. You woke up first thing this morning to fetch the ingredients— Sam was already out of the motel with his brother, of course, a note on your bedside table about being back for dinner— and now, at about 3:00 p.m., you are just about finished decorating his cake. It's been an arduous process, but it only makes you all the more proud of yourself for what you have accomplished. Motel kitchenettes aren't the easiest place to do any sort of baking, but you figured it out.

You are usually one to accompany them on their hunts, but you made up some excuse about having a sprained ankle to be let off the hook for today. Honestly, you expected Sam to catch on, but he just seemed genuinely concerned about your feigned injury. Only one thought has occurred to you since.

He must have forgotten his own birthday.

It made your heart ache to think about it. Dean has surely reminded him by making a comment about him being the "birthday boy" on their hunt by now. You hope they come back soon.

A vibrant mix of greens decorate the cake in front of you, as well as the underneaths of your fingernails (that's not going away for a couple days, at least). In piped edible-glitter frosting, it reads, "Happy Birthday Sam!" with a little heart next to his name. It isn't your best work, that's for certain, but you really hope that he'll like it. The last thing you have to add to the cake are the candles you snuck away to buy along with the ingredients. They didn't have any number shaped ones, and a collection of over 20 candles would certainly be a fire hazard. You opted for four; one belonging to each corner. You carefully put them in place before taking a step back to admire your handiwork.

Perfection. Well, not really, but as close as you're getting to it.

As you stand to admire your work, you hear the familiar sound of Baby's purring engine outside the motel room's thin walls. Panic strikes you for a moment before you start to move, opening the small refrigerator's door and carefully lowering the cake, resting on a cutting board, onto one of the racks. You manage to tear the apron off in record time, shoving it into some cabinet underneath the sink neither Winchester will touch. You kick the refrigerator door shut just in time, a key shuffling inside the door knob for just a moment before the front door swings open.

Sam's eyes immediately catch yours, his stoic features melting away into a sweet smile. He exhales like he had been holding in a breath for the entirety of the time you were apart. Forgetting about the duffle bag slung over his shoulder, he walks straight to where you're standing and pulls you into a hug. You can't help but smile in his embrace, arms wrapping around his waist.

"I missed you," you confess, and Sam smiles into your hair. He nods, his silent way of saying 'me too,' one of his hands rubbing circles into your lower back.

You remain like this for a moment before an amused chuckle sounds from behind you. "Now what's all this?" Dean's voice is dripping with scandal, and when you turn your head to see what he could possibly be talking about, you sigh deeply.

You forgot about the dishes.

Plastic bowls litter the tiny sink, along with the spoon and whisk you used for mixing. Cakes batter clings to them, along with speckles of sugar and flour. If your hands weren't on your boyfriend, you'd facepalm.

Your shame is interrupted by a chuckle from Sam, and the smile on his face is so strikingly beautiful that you almost forget what you were upset about. "Miss 'injured ankle' did all this, huh? What mischief have you gotten yourself into today, pretty girl?" He asks, endearment in his tone. You trace your fingers along his lower back while avoiding eye contact with him, purposefully acting coy.

"Oh, I don't know... I guess you'll have to go put your stuff away before I show you." You nod toward the bag on his shoulder, eyes following your gesture before his brows raise in realization.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, then untangling himself from your shared embrace. "That is a brilliant idea. I'll be right back," he promises, accentuating his words with a point of his finger, then making his way into your shared bedroom no more than 20 feet away. While it took some getting accustomed to, you find that it is honestly quite nice having Sam and Dean so close all the time. It gives you a sense of security you haven't ever felt before. Less privacy, certainly, but oh well.

Dean raises a brow at you, capturing your attention. Leaning casually against the counter, he poses a silent question— one that you understand immediately. You nod with a smirk, then beckon him over to the refrigerator to show him your work. He quietly slips over to where you are, just barely prying open the door. He peers inside with furrowed brows as if he plans to thoroughly study your artistry. After a beat, he closes it, giving you one of his upside-down smiles and a thumbs up in approval. He genuinely looks a little impressed. You dramatically wipe imaginary sweat off of your forehead, but you internally feel some real relief. If Dean approves, there's a much higher chance that Sam will too.

Your game of charades comes to an end at the sound of Sam's footsteps returning from the bedroom. You both look over at him with a knowing smile.

"What's that look for?" He chuckles as he walks over to the kitchenette, crossing his arms on his chest. You and Dean share a glance before he steps to the side and out of the way of the fridge to let you do the honors.

"Okay, well— first, you have to close your eyes. Just for a few seconds, I promise." You place one hand on the fridge door, the other on your hip. He shrugs before doing as he's told, holding up his palms in front of his shut eyes just in case. With careful movements, you open the door and remove the cake from its chilly confines, balancing it meticulously in your grasp. Dean closes the door for you, and you mutter a thank you to him for it. You're about to tell Sam to open his eyes when you remember something.

"Dean, do you have a light?"

His eyebrows raise in understanding, and he quickly rifles through his pockets for a lighter. Even through his hand-shield, you can sense Sam's confusion about your question, but he doesn't voice it. It isn't long before Dean's flicking it on, lighting the 4 candles with oddly practiced ease. You can imagine he's probably done this for Sam a few times— you'll have to talk about that sometime. Maybe you'll work together next year.

"Open your eyes!" Your voice is giddy, just chock-full of anticipation. Sam complies, unblinding himself to take in the sight of what is being held in front of him. He can't help the grin that forms on his face.

"You made this?"

He looks back and forth between you and the cake, and you nod enthusiastically. His gaze fixes on you, then, his heart swelling with love. "You really didn't have to do this, you know," he says softly, almost like he's trying to keep his words from reaching Dean's ears.

"I know. But you deserve to feel special on your birthday," you reply. "Even if it means just eating a wonky motel cake." That gets a chuckle out of him, and he precariously leans over the cake platter to kiss your forehead.

"Thank you, baby." You can tell from the glint in his eyes that there's more he wants to say, but you two have put Dean through enough. He bends himself down so he's roughly at eye-level with the treat, seemingly taking a moment to make a wish before blowing out all the candles in one go. You'll have to ask him about that wish later.

He straightens back up after the deed is done. "So!" He exclaims, clasping his hands together. "Shall we eat?"

"I second that notion," Dean chimes in, slipping past the two of you to find some plastic utensils the three of you can use to eat. You and Sam share a tender look for a moment— his greenish-bluish-brownish irises shining in the kitchen light. Then, the two of you go to join his brother at this motel's poor excuse for a dining table to grab a bite of your masterpiece.

It's simple, it's peaceful. Two things that don't come by the three of you very often.

Happy birthday, Sam.

taglist: (feel free to comment if you want to be added!)

@ambiguous-avery @sammybirthdaybonanza

[slvt4chrissturniolo]

this is so cute I love this so muchhh

nick ~

<3 he's gave me the courage to be who I truly am

growing up I always wanted to fit in, in EVERY way possible. I still struggle with it to this day but nick has really helped me express my self unapologetically. like most recently, when he talked about his experience growing up gay and his love for drag, it brought me to tears and I just know it touched some young fans out there. or when he has talked about having to come to terms with his body, I love this man so much and how he influences people.

<3 nick fr carries

I don't care what anyone says nick carries. he knows the most about cameras and editing, like chris and matt can barelyyyy film without this man. he also always fills the silence, he's ALWAYS entertaining. People really don't give nick enough credit like the fuck.

matt ~

<3 talking about mental health

matt is a comfort person for me, like he's really helped me over th years. knowing what he's been through, I'm so proud of him for speaking out. he's helped me do much with my anxiety, and knowing he's helped others makes me SO happy. the triplets aren't just funny guys who sit in a car and matts proof of it. I could talk about what hes does for people for hours, it literally makes me wanna cry bro he's so nice.

<3 his gigglessss

when matt giggles I genuinely think my heart gets all warm and fuzzy. like it makes me so happy when chris or nick are talking and you can just hear matts little baby giggles. he has the cutest laugh ever I'm gonna sob.

chris ~

<3 he inspired me to be more creative

with him talking so much about how fresh love is his creative outlook, he's inspired me. I used to be extremely creative but then got burned out, chris brought back my creativity. he puts so much work into his work, and he's made a reminder to me that I should never lose my creativity.

<3 chris loves people with all his heart

the way he appreciates people is beautiful. his relationship with matt, nick, his family, and friends is so cute. he loves them more than anyone and it's extremely clear to see. I mean he literally got matt and nicks name tattooed on him. he's never wanted a tattoo, and getting their names is so sweet. it was obvious he'd get a tattoo for tour, but he could've gotten anything silky like a Pepsi can or deer, but getting matt and nick is the most heartwarming thing ever.

All the negativity and hateful energy recently has made me really want to be more positive. Nick, Matt, and Chris are all lovely people. I started watching them when I was at one of the lowest points in my life and honestly their videos are the only reason I wanted to wake up some days.

No, I don’t know these boys in real life, but I do love them. They’ve shows attributes that I really admire and that goes beyond physical traits by a lot. So here’s a list of some of the reasons why I really enjoy being able to consume their content!

— Their laughs!!! Matt’s boneless giggle never fail to make me smile and I adore how Chris’s laugh is “AHAHAHAHA” while Nick’s is “hehehe.”

— Them arguing. Controversial, I know, but sometimes it reminds me that an argument doesn’t mean the end of it all. You say sorry, you hug it out, and that’s something I really appreciate being able to remember when I have disagreements with my own siblings.

— The way they show affection towards each other. Sometimes it’s subconsciously leaning onto one another while laughing, other times it’s a group hug. Both make me really happy!!!

— Their relationship with their friends and family. It feels very intimate and very healing to be able to see a glimpse into such healthy relationships. JIMMY AND MARYLOU?! YES.

There’s plenty of other reasons why I love them, but I wanna hear everyone else’s too!!! Comment or reblog yours if you’d like and lmk anything and everything that makes it fun to be in this fandom for you!!! ☺️✨

[luckyshouse]

thank you so so so so much for making that post abt the scary acceptance of pedophilia and incest as kinks/fetishes/whatever, I've been feeling crazy for thinking this is all so messed up and backwards (and everyone yelling how "it's just fiction so it doesn't matter!" as if propaganda isn't a thing lmao), I'm genuinely experiencing such a huge feeling of relief to see an artist i really enjoy the work of speak about this 🫶 (also thank you for sharing your art here, I'm really glad to have found your art a few months ago during a tag scroll)

i am so very glad that you feeel a lot of relief with me saying that. there needs to be more people saying it because it is creating a space and a dichotomy on this website where you either get to be a catholic antisex puritan or super proparaphilia to the point that you never criticize it. its kept me from exploring my own sexuality so much as a "weird furry" because truthfully i am into a lot of weird stuff that IS taboo but the idea is if you are into that shit, you ALSO have to be ok with proud paraphilias in your community. and this mindset also KEEPS people stuff in their paraphilias. this is why i bring up that pedophilia and incest isn't a taboo kink, because no, it isn't taboo. you go on pornhub and can find teen and family and rape shit literally everywhere. but you know what you cant find on pornhub? hypno. you're not allowed to look that up. not to make this about homestuck but did you know they deleted and scrapped the beekeeper trolls old design and stuff because they were outed for drawing giantess fetish stuff, but then also included a character thats canonically proshipping, made by a proshipper, whos actively into incest on their blog right now? this is exactly what i fucking mean. the whole "incest/pedophilia is taboo" idea only works in the same way that a comedian saying theyve been "silenced/canceled" works. like boy, i sure do hear a lot of you all the fucking time constantly on every website for something thats supposed to be "Silenced" i wonder why! i wonder what those two things have in common? could it perhaps be that its a fascist tool to silence people who push back against their beliefs? hmmmmmm.

it makes me very angry, and very sick. and i hope that more people are willing to speak up about it because i feel like this mindset also purposefully keeps survivors stuck in traumatized states so that there can continue to be the idea of a biological predator because people LOVE to make categories of people they can kill and torture without guilt. the idea that pedophilia starts nowhere and is just some weird misfiring of the brain implies that anything we do or any kink we have is completely independent of the society we live in, which is literally just not reality at all. like you said, somehow they can keep saying that fiction doesn't effect reality, even though propaganda is real and literally works, advertising is real and literally works, misconceptions are caused by fiction to the point they change reality, and then they also can't seem to figure out that OTHER PEOPLE could be using their art to groom literal actual children. its just so irresponsible, selfish and childish in my opinion. and then you could make the arguement that yeah of course its childish theyre so traumatized that they don't have the emotional capacity to understand the reach theyre causing and im like okay. this is the same logic we apply to autistic men sexually assaulting women. "ohh theyre too unwell and have the mind of a child" ok well get their ass in therapy if they're that incapable as an adult and seriously talk to them and tell them the truth. this is WHY its such a common thing for autistic men to become sexual abusers in the first place because everyone and their fucking mother goes "well he has the mind of a baby so he cant control himself" do fucking something about it then.

im rambling about something thats not even really connected, sorry. i just have a lot of very strong opinions of this that i think need to be said.

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Pairing: bucktommy; kiss: to distract

— 💜 @nine-one-wanton

Thanks for the ask, Jo! We're going to the Shattered universe for this one 🥰

****

Tommy froze when he heard the garage door open. Uh oh, he thought.

"Oh noooo!" Stella cried. "Daddy can't be home yet! We're not ready!"

"Not ready!" Sasha echoed from her high chair, hands covered in frosting.

"You just keep working, princess. I've got this," Tommy reassured her. Stella nodded determinedly, sprinkles in hand.

"I'm hooome!" Evan's voice rang out as he stepped inside. "Hello?" he continued, clearly anticipating a stampede of little feet.

"Hey, you're home earlier than I expected. You said there would probably be tons of paperwork," Tommy said, positioning himself strategically in the doorway.

"Yeah, well, turns out I'm really efficient," Evan said with pride.

"You don't say," Tommy mumbled, rolling his eyes and thinking back to Evan's color-coded clipboards when they were planning for a wedding and a baby at the same time.

"Where are my girls?" Evan asked, craning his neck to peek around Tommy.

"Oh, you know, around," Tommy said casually, blocking his view.

Evan raised his eyebrows. "You're acting weird," he said as he tried to step farther into the house.

Tommy surged forward, pulling Evan in for a searing kiss. He pulled back, and Evan blinked dazedly.

"Wow, uh, what was that for?"

"What? I can't kiss my husband?" Tommy asked innocently.

"Well, I mean, you can, but that was..." Evan began, still flustered.

"Papa! It's ready!" Stella yelled from the dining room.

Evan looked at Tommy suspiciously. "What's ready?"

Tommy winked as he led Evan into the house.

"Surprise!" the girls shouted, standing proudly in front of an absolute mess of a cake. The cake was lopsided, the frosting an unnatural blue color with sprinkles that had pooled into a mountain in the middle.

Evan grinned, his eyes softening. "Oh, girls, it's so beautiful," he said with complete honesty.

"We wanted to celebrate your first day as captain, Daddy," Stella explained, beaming.

"Yay, Daddy!" Sasha cheered, clapping her very blue hands together.

Evan looked warmly from the girls to Tommy.

"Proud of you, Captain Kinard," Tommy said, pressing a chaste kiss to his husband's lips.

"Want a piece, Daddy?" Stella asked hopefully, practically bouncing on her toes.

"Of course," Evan said. "I can't wait to try it."

"We baked it ourselves!" Stella grinned proudly.

"I crack the eggs, Daddy!" Sasha announced.

"With lots of help," Tommy added, winking at Evan.

Evan gazed lovingly at his husband and daughters, a warmth spreading through his chest. Sure, becoming captain had been an accomplishment, but it paled in comparison to the little family he and Tommy had built together.

[jessxxxfwd]

◄◄�Photogr�phs ✷✷✷✷

***Introducing...! Riki.N x Idol!Reader! You're releasing your Solo debut but when some Romance (?) comes into the mix.. The media Catch on! smau and written, sfw, fluff, reader is from Illit 715 words

💌 ~ I hope you know I will be making SO much illit stuff because the pages I made them are so adorable to me!?

You put your phone face down onto the table and frowned deeply. What? A dating scandal? Fans knew you knew Enhypen. You and Riki just happened to be close! Why was it going to viral though?... Would this ruin your debut? Your thoughts spiraled. You ran your fingers through your hair and tied it up. Ready to practice your dances for your new song for the hundredth time...

It was an accident so hopefully you weren't going to be in too much trouble with your manager. It was meant in a friendly way and you meant to say it on your private. It was fine. Fine. Sure Riki was pretty. Very. But it wasn't like you like liked him..

Did you? You couldn't contain your millions of thoughts. You took a sip from your bottle and sighed. why now? You had such a busy couple days ahead. Three days and the song was out. Three days to release more images, to practice and perfect. It would be perfect. Your phone pinged and you picked it up again. Two notifications. One from your manager... Uh oh.

And so later that day you and Riki met for lunch not long later, he was sat at a table by himself, buried into his phone until you called his name, he looked up, smiled and waved.

"Hi! Thought you forgot for a second" he smiled and rubbed his arm on the crook of his neck, you laughed and shook your head "I'm so sorry! I got held up.. So.. What's our game plan?" You said she placed your lunch and juice carton onto the table.

"Um.. I suppose we could address it.. Or drag it on" he smiled but quickly switched up at your unamused look "sorry sorry. Just a joke!.." He smiled "oh I'm sorry! Just.. A little tired" you smiled back "so.. Maybe we should just deny it.." He nodded but looked unsure "yeah... I mean you want to just deny it right?" He gave you no response. "Riki?..." He broke out of his thought and looked at you "sorry sorry.. Um.. Could we leave here? Talk outside... Please?"

You raised your brow in confusion but nodded and followed him, picking up the tub your food was in and standing with him in an empty corridor "what's up Riki?" you smiled gently "you can call me Ni-ki if you'd like.. You know me more so I feel it would be fitting" you nodded "sure, Ni-ki, famous idol Niki!" You giggled and he pouted hard "okay maybe Riki then" he huffed.

"But anyways, what's wrong? Why'd you wanna leave?" You said to him and took his hands into yours, he gulped and looked up, locking eyes with you "okay so, when I made that joke about keeping the joke going.. Maybe I meant it not as a joke?.. " he frowned "I like you" he clutched your hands stronger "really. I really do since I met you when you first started training.. You're so pretty and funny and talented.. Be my girlfriend?"

You gasped and nodded "yes.. Yes please" you grin grew so big you feared your cheeks would rip. You giggled and smiled and he looked so relieved, his grip on your hand loosened and became more soft and gentle. "Now.. Let's go eat? And fully talk about this.. Maybe we should deny it to the public for now?" You said and he shook his head "let em know. Does it matter? You're mine, I'm yours, doesn't matter if they don't like it" he smirked, words confident in both of you.

And so, that night you spent at your boyfriends dorm, nestled in the fluffy flurry feelings of your new relationship. He kept talking to you, saying how proud he was, talking about his new music ideas, the music videos, photoshoots and magazines. It was so comforting. He was so comforting. "Yeah baby that sounds cool" you mumbled, head on his chest as you dozed off "you want me to keep talking or?.. " you just nodded "Mhm.. I wanna know, just a little sleepy" you smiled and he continued.

You wanted to thank that dumb scandal account, because now you had a loving supportive boyfriend. It was amazing and sure the relationship was new but with eachother? You knew it would last.

©jessxxxfwd 2025

[bunnykaye]

Iain De Caestecker as Arthur Pendragon The Winter King, Season 1, Episode 1

[niewanyin]

personally, i think men need to grow a backbone like white women have done after being told by leftist spaces that they are evil and complaining about Anything is utilizing white women tears because god knows leftist men clung to the ability to be a misogynist and get away with it by putting the word "white" in front of "women" and they can act like they're the real victims of the patriarchy unlike nasty bitches who might feel unsafe around them. like if you're not secure in yourself as a person to continue doing what's right after a few mean words that you say don't apply to you, that's a problem you should figure out with a therapist.

[lacebird]

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN Star Wars Celebration Japan 2025 (April 18, 2025)

[moongothic]

Madoka is the promise you won't turn from a child, full of hopes and dreams and the wish to save the world, into a bitter adult who just wants to hurt others and ruin people's lives

Madoka promised to be there for you to remind you of the person you wanted to be and to stop you from becoming what you sought to destroy

Madoka made that promise and became the very embodiment of it

[timothyslucy]

SO PROUD OF THIS GIRL BTW. 🥹😭🫶

[iamfitzwilliamdarcy]

i'm not giving a nuance option because this MUST be from snyderverse lex and i can see that not happening- you can still tell me though what i missed!!

i wanted to give more specific quotes but the poll blocks don't let you go for long (i also reduced a lot of specifics like daddy's fists and abominations, wagging his finger in front of clark's glowing eyes)

[three-headed-monster]

we're already wet (and we're gonna go swimming)

Luke fucking hates My Tie.

or, a back-door luke hughes character study