#and actually everything so much forever i love him

[muqingslover]

[ i might not be the biggest Sylus stan out there but the amount of times I've seen him being portrayed as some dark novel alpha daddy is actually outrageous. So, I'm here to give y'all Sylus fans what I believe would be more accurate. ]

What it means to be loved by Sylus

This man would never raise his hand towards his partner. He waited centuries to have you by his side, the very person who taught him how to love, how to live and not just survive. How could he even consider intentionally hurting you?

Sylus is someone who takes care of everything he considers his.

If your feet are aching then he will happily carry you in one arm while the other hand holds your high heels. In fact, if he could, he'd carry you everywhere if it meant always having you in his arms.

Being Sylus' partner means being treated like royalty. If you want something then it's yours. And not only that, it's always the best of the best.

He genuinely enjoys being able to provide for you and watching you live comfortably gives him the best feeling in the world.

Although he is a tease, he wouldn't use hurtful words on purpose and if he noticed something he said upset you he'd always apologize. He's a prideful man, but he will always choose you over everything else, including himself.

Even in his playful remarks about how 'you love him too much to leave', he silently hopes you will reassure him that that's true. He prays, to whoever will listen to an old dragon's pleas, that you keep wanting and needing him by your side as much as he needs you by his.

Being loved by Sylus means being cared for as if you're made out of glass when no one is looking, most of the times not even you. How his knuckles will gently brush the skin of your bare back before moving towards your cheek, his fingers caressing your face while he silent relishes the feeling of you sound asleep next to him. Those small, simple moments are to him the most precious ones.

His sweet heart is so incredibly worried every time you feel under the weather. His large hands would hold your face as if you'd shatter if he wasn't careful as he softly asked you to talk to him. The sight of your tears is enough to make him feel as if he's being ripped apart and he truly hopes you know he's there for you, forever and always.

Learning about what you enjoy so he can be a part of it even if it doesn't fit him at all is all worth it as long as you keep smiling for him. At him.

Sylus is a romantic and gentle partner. He is for those who want to be pampered and reassured that they'll always be the only one for him regardless of eventual fights or time without contact.

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

FAVOURITE CRIME

rafe cameron x fem!routledge!reader

(reader has NO specific appearance and can be john b’s adopted sister, nothing is specified !!)

SUMMARY: trapped in a deadly chase through the desert, y/n kills to save rafe—forcing them to confront love, heartbreak, and the ghosts of their past.

based on this ask !! i hope this is what you asked for anon, and i hope you enjoy it :) i kinda’ made it very angsty and emotional because that’s always been my strong suit when writing <3

(check out my other rafe cameron & drew starkey works here !!)

WARNINGS: murder (reader stabs a mercenary), detailed descriptions of blood, death, guns, mild dissociation/panic attack, cursing, angst (LOTS) w/ a soft ending, season 4 finale spoilers (but a slight twist from the actual plot of the episode), exes to lovers, mentions of peterkin’s murder, slight suicidal ideation from rafe (?). (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

THIRD PERSON +

The desert wind howled, whipping up sand in violent gusts as the group pressed forward. The air was thick with tension, the weight of the past few days—weeks, even—settling on their shoulders like an unbearable burden. The heat was suffocating, the air dry enough to sting their throats with every breath.

Y/N’s pulse hammered in her ears, her feet stumbling over uneven terrain as she clutched the scarf tighter to her face. Every muscle in her body ached, exhaustion clawing at her limbs, but there was no time to stop. Not with the Corsairs chasing them. Not with the Blue Crown so close.

She stole a glance over her shoulder. John B was leading the way, his jaw clenched with determination. Sarah was beside him, gripping a makeshift weapon she’d picked up along the way. JJ, Kie, Pope and Cleo were just behind, moving as fast as they could despite the relentless sandstorm threatening to swallow them whole.

And then there was Rafe.

Even in the chaos, she couldn’t stop her eyes from finding him. His buzzed head was covered with sweat and dust, his face smeared with dirt and blood, but his expression was the same as always—intense, unreadable. They had spent the last year avoiding each other, exchanging nothing but bitter glares and harsh words when absolutely necessary. The memories of their past still clung to her, threatening to pull her under if she let them.

They had loved each other once. Maybe, deep down, they still did. But too much had happened. Too many betrayals, too many scars.

And now, none of it mattered. They had bigger problems.

A sudden, sharp noise split through the wind—a gunshot.

“Shit,” JJ swore, ducking instinctively as the bullet kicked up sand nearby.

“They’re gaining on us!” Kie shouted over the storm.

Y/N’s stomach twisted. They couldn’t outrun them forever. The Corsairs had numbers on their side, and they were relentless.

“We need to move faster!” John B barked, urging them on.

But before they could take another step, Rafe suddenly stopped, turning to face the chaos behind them.

“What the hell are you doing?” Y/N demanded, her voice raw from the sand and exhaustion.

“I’ll buy you time,” Rafe said, already moving toward the oncoming threat.

Her stomach dropped. “No. No, Rafe, we all have to get out of here—”

“You need to go,” he cut her off, his voice firm. “I’ll catch up.”

She hated him. She hated how easily he could make these decisions, how recklessly he threw himself into danger. She hated how, despite everything, her heart still clenched at the thought of something happening to him.

“Rafe—”

“Go, Y/N!”

The look in his eyes was final.

Her heart pounded as she watched him disappear into the storm, his silhouette fading into the swirling sand. The others hesitated only a second longer before John B grabbed her arm.

“Come on!”

Her feet moved on instinct, forcing herself to turn away, to follow the others. But her mind was screaming at her, every part of her telling her to stop.

She was furious at him. She was furious at herself.

But she couldn’t leave him.

Not like this.

Y/N broke away from the group before she could second-guess it, ignoring her brothers shouts as she turned back.

The wind howled around her, sand biting at her skin as she stumbled forward. She could barely see more than a few feet ahead, but she pushed on, heart hammering against her ribs.

Then she saw him.

Rafe was fighting one of the Corsairs, his movements fast but desperate. The mercenary was bigger, stronger, and he was winning.

Y/N watched in horror as the man tackled Rafe to the ground, pinning him down. Rafe struggled, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he fought to break free, but the Corsair had him. The knife in the man’s hand glinted in the dim, dusty light, aimed straight for Rafe’s throat.

And before she even realised what she was doing, she moved.

Time slowed as she grabbed the discarded weapon from the sand—her fingers curling around the cold steel. She had never done this before. Never even considered it. But Rafe’s choked gasp, the raw panic in his eyes, made her body act before her mind could stop her.

She lunged.

The blade sank in.

The mercenary stiffened, his grip on Rafe loosening as a strangled gargle escaped his lips, followed by the maroon liquid. Y/N barely registered the warm, sticky blood that coated her hands, her breath catching in her throat.

The man collapsed.

For a moment, all she could do was stare.

Her hands were shaking, her pulse roaring in her ears. The reality of what she had done hit her like a tidal wave.

She had killed him.

She had never—

A broken gasp tore from her lips.

“Y/N—”

She barely heard Rafe’s voice over the storm.

Her chest heaved, her vision swimming. The blood. The weight of the knife still in her grip.

What had she done?

A rough hand grabbed her wrist, jolting her back to reality. She blinked, eyes snapping to Rafe. His expression was unreadable, but there was something there—something she couldn’t decipher.

“We have to go,” he said, his voice quieter than before.

Her breath was still ragged, her body locked in place.

“Y/N.”

She looked at him. Really looked at him. And for the first time in a long time, all the anger, all the bitterness between them faded into something else. Something raw. Something terrifying.

He was still alive because of her.

She had done this for him.

She swallowed hard, nodding as she forced herself to move.

They ran.

The desert stretched out before them, the storm still raging, but it didn’t matter. They had to keep going.

The others were waiting. The crown was waiting.

—

The cold was a sharp contrast to the suffocating heat they had just endured. It was almost as if the universe had decided that after the chaos of the storm, they were all entitled to some semblance of relief. But for Y/N, the coolness that surrounded her now did nothing to ease the fire that raged inside her chest. It wasn’t just the physical exhaustion; it was the emotional weight of what she had done. What she had to have done.

The group had found shelter in an old, abandoned structure, a weathered building that seemed as though it had been untouched for decades. The walls were cracked, and the remnants of long-forgotten furniture lay in disarray, but it was a temporary haven. There were no Corsairs chasing them, no more sandstorms to blind them. For the first time in what felt like forever, they could breathe, even if it felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on Y/N’s lungs.

The howling sandstorm raged outside, but at least in here, they were safe—physically, at least.

Mentally? Emotionally? She was anything but.

The others were scattered around the shelter, catching their breath, murmuring in hushed voices. She vaguely registered JJ cursing under his breath as he checked his wounds, Sarah whispering something to John B, Kie pacing near the entrance. But none of it fully reached her. The weight of what had just happened was pressing down on her, suffocating her.

She could still feel the knife in her hands. Could still see the moment the blade had sunk into the mercenaries neck, the way the man had stiffened, the way his eyes had gone vacant.

Her stomach twisted violently.

She wasn’t a killer.

But she had killed.

For him.

A few feet away, Rafe sat against the opposite wall, arms braced on his knees, his face turned away. He hadn’t said anything since they had run. Since she had saved him.

She should have been relieved that he was still breathing. That the mercenary hadn’t been the one to walk away. But all she felt was hollow.

Her hands trembled as she looked down at them, still stained with dried blood. Her breath hitched, her throat tightening. She needed to get it off. She needed it gone.

Before she could move, though, Rafe’s voice cut through the heavy silence between them.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

It was quiet. Barely more than a whisper. But it sent a jolt through her, snapping her head up.

Her eyes met his.

He was looking at her now, his blue eyes dark with something unreadable. He looked… haunted.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she breathed.

Rafe exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dust-covered hair. “I told you to go, Y/N.”

“And what? Just leave you there to die?” she snapped.

“You shouldn’t have had to—”

“I had to.”

Her voice cracked, the weight of it all suddenly crushing down on her.

“You think I wanted to do that?” Her breathing was ragged, her chest heaving. “You think I wanted—wanted to—”

She couldn’t say it.

She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

Rafe’s jaw clenched, his fingers digging into his knees. “You’re not like me, Y/N. You don’t—you don’t do shit like this.”

“Yeah?” She let out a hollow laugh, her eyes burning. “Well, I did.”

His gaze darkened.

“You made me like this,” she whispered.

Rafe flinched.

“You made me like this,” she repeated, stronger this time. “Because of you, I did something I can’t take back. Something I—” She sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers curling into fists. “You ruined me, Rafe.”

His face twisted, something breaking in his expression.

“You think I wanted this?” he shot back, his voice suddenly raw. “You think I wanted you to—”

“Then why do you always do this?” she cut him off. “Why do you throw yourself into danger like you don’t give a damn? Like your life doesn’t matter?”

Rafe’s lips parted, but nothing came out.

“Do you even care if you die?” she demanded, her voice rising. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t seem like it!”

Rafe stood suddenly, crossing the space between them in two long strides.

“Of course I fucking care!” he yelled, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

“Then act like it!”

Their faces were inches apart now, both of them breathing heavily. The tension was thick, suffocating.

“You don’t get to be mad at me for saving your life,” she hissed, her hands shaking at her sides. “You don’t get to make me feel bad for it.”

Rafe let out a bitter laugh, running his hands over his face. “Jesus Christ, Y/N, you don’t get it, do you?”

“Then make me get it, Rafe!” she shouted. “Because I swear to God, I—”

“Because I can’t fucking lose you!”

Silence crashed over them like a tidal wave.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Rafe stared at her, his chest heaving, his blue eyes wide and desperate. “I can’t—I can’t do this if something happens to you. If you—if you die because of me—” His voice cracked, and he shook his head, his expression crumbling. “I can’t, Y/N.”

Her heart clenched painfully.

“You were never supposed to be a part of this,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I never wanted you mixed up in my shit, never wanted you to—” He exhaled shakily, his hands clenching at his sides. “And then I lost you, and I thought—”

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tight.

“You didn’t lose me,” she murmured.

His eyes snapped to hers.

“You left me,” she whispered. “You did that to yourself.”

Rafe’s face twisted in pain.

“I should hate you,” she said, her voice trembling. “I want to hate you. After everything you did to my family, after everything you put me through—”

A single tear slipped down her cheek.

“But I don’t.”

She let out a shaky breath.

“I still love you, Rafe.”

It felt like the world stopped.

Rafe inhaled sharply, his entire body going rigid.

“I hate that I do,” she admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I hate that no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I tell myself I should let you go—I can’t.”

A broken sound escaped Rafe’s lips.

His hand lifted—hesitant at first—but then he cupped her face, his thumb brushing over the tear-streaked skin.

“Y/N/N,” he breathed, his voice wrecked.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t sweet.

It was desperate.

It was everything they had been holding back for months, for over a year.

Y/N gasped against his lips, her fingers tangling in his shirt as she clung to him, as if she could drown in him and never come up for air. Rafe’s hands were everywhere—on her waist, in her hair, gripping her like he was terrified she might disappear.

Like he needed her just as much as she needed him.

The kiss was messy, frantic, a collision of emotions too overwhelming to put into words. It tasted like salt, like blood, like heartbreak.

Like love.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads pressed together, their breaths mingling in the heavy silence.

Rafe swallowed hard, his fingers still gripping her tightly. “I never stopped,” he admitted. “Not for a second.”

Her heart shattered.

There was so much between them. Too much.

But right now, none of it mattered.

Right now, all she could feel was him.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was such a sweet one to write :’) i’m a SUCKER for exes to lovers so if anybody has any drew or rafe requests with that trope then pls drop them !!

i really hope it’s what you asked for anon <3

[rose24207]

ROSEEEE DROP PART 2 OF “My dad’s an idiot” AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 😭😭😭😭 like girl the amount of times I’ve re-read it are not even funny nor healthy I’m BEGGING ‼️‼️‼️

The date, the spy and the evil wench

Summary: On your first date, Lucas tries everything in his power to ensure nothing comes between you and Lando, even if he has to get Jessica out of the way.

Genre: fluff, humor, little angst

Future!dad!Lando x future!mum!reader, time travel

TW: bullying, humiliating

A/N: LMFAOOO I love those kind of requests!! I hope you love it as much as I do!

P1

Masterlist pt. 2

The evening air was crisp as Lando stood outside the restaurant, nervously adjusting his collar for what felt like the hundredth time. He was dressed in his best shirt—something he had chosen specifically to impress you—and his hands kept fidgeting as he glanced around for any sign of your arrival. Despite his casual demeanor, he was on edge. He really wanted this date to go well.

From his hiding spot around the corner, Lucas watched with a mixture of amusement and pride. He had never seen Lando so flustered before. It was almost funny. He knew his "dad" was still a long way from being his actual dad—at least in this timeline—but that didn’t mean he wasn’t rooting for him.

“You’re good, mate,” Lucas whispered under his breath. He was genuinely rooting for Lando to pull this off. Even if it was kind of strange, seeing the man who would eventually become his father like this—so nervous, so unsure of himself.

As if on cue, you appeared down the street, walking toward the restaurant with a smile that could light up the world. Lando froze for a second, his eyes locking onto you. You looked even more stunning than he had anticipated, and the nerves in his chest began to multiply. He smiled awkwardly, running a hand through his hair as he caught sight of you approaching.

“Okay, Lando, you’ve got this,” he muttered to himself.

You finally reached him, and Lando’s heart skipped a beat. “Hey, you look amazing,” he said, his voice coming out a little shaky but sincere.

“Thank you,” you replied with a soft smile, your eyes bright as you took in his appearance. “You look pretty good yourself.”

Lando managed a chuckle, trying to shake off his nerves. “Thanks… You ready?”

You nodded, and with that, the two of you entered the restaurant. Lucas slipped from his hiding place, trailing behind at a safe distance, making sure he was in a good position to watch everything unfold.

Dinner went smoothly—at first. Lando was still a little jittery, but you seemed to put him at ease with your kind words and warm smile. He’d been so nervous that he kept stumbling over his words, but you found it endearing rather than awkward. He was trying so hard, and Lucas could see that you were starting to like him, which made his heart swell with pride for the man who, in another timeline, would one day be his father.

Lucas, however, knew that the night wouldn’t stay peaceful forever. There were always obstacles—particularly one very dangerous obstacle.

He caught sight of Jessica as soon as she entered the restaurant. She had a smug look on her face as she scanned the room, clearly looking for trouble. When she spotted Lando and you at your table, her lips curled into a satisfied grin. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was planning.

Lucas tensed, his hand instinctively balling into a fist as he began to move toward her. He had been waiting for this moment, knowing it would come sooner or later.

Jessica didn’t waste any time. She slammed her hands on the table, a coy smile plastered on her face as she leaned toward Lando.

“Lando,” she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Funny, I thought you and I had plans tonight.”

Lando stiffened, his smile faltering for a moment as he glanced at you. His nerves were getting the best of him. “Jessica, I—uh—I’m with someone right now.”

Jessica barely seemed to register that, her gaze trained on you with a mix of disdain and amusement. “Oh, I see,” she drawled. “Well, it must be nice to have someone to settle for when there’s no one better around.”

The words hit you like a slap, and you visibly tensed, your eyes falling to the table in front of you. You had always been the type to take insults and suck it up, but something about Jessica’s attitude made you feel even more smaller than usual.

“You have a lot of nerve,” Lando said, his voice calm but laced with a sharp edge. “Maybe you should leave us alone.”

Jessica wasn’t having any of it. She leaned even closer to Lando, her hand subtly brushing his arm. “You don’t need that, Lando. You and I both know you’d be much better off with me. Why settle for someone who’s… well, less than perfect?”

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but before you could speak up, Lando spoke up, his voice firm. “That’s enough, Jessica. I’m not interested. You need to leave.”

Lucas, who had been watching from the shadows, felt his stomach churn with frustration. He couldn’t let this woman continue to bully you both, especially not when Lando was trying so hard.

Without a second thought, Lucas darted toward the table. He timed it perfectly, slipping between her and a passing waiter just as she reached for Lando’s arm. Her foot caught on his shoe, and with a small thud, she tripped, crashing into the chair in front of her with an unceremonious thud.

“Oof!” Jessica let out a sharp gasp as she stumbled and fell into the chair, a drink splashing across the table and onto her lap.

Lucas, pretending to be just another curious customer, immediately acted the part of a concerned bystander. “Oh! I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. “I didn’t mean to get in your way.”

Jessica glared at him with venom in her eyes as she stood up, her face red with fury. “You little brat,” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

“You should watch where you’re walking,” Lucas quipped with a sly grin, offering her another set of napkins as he leaned toward her. “Here, clean up that mess.”

Jessica snatched the napkins from his hand, practically snarling at him before stalking off to the bathroom, leaving Lando and you to share an awkward but relieved look

Lando sighed in relief, glancing at you. “I’m sorry about her.”

You shook your head, a small sad smile playing at your lips. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing new.

Lucas, now back in the shadows, felt a quiet satisfaction as he watched the two of you. The night was going much better now that Jessica was out of the picture. He could feel the tension ease between you and Lando as you both returned to the conversation, and he felt a proud sense of accomplishment. His dad—well, future dad—was getting a chance to have this relationship, and Lucas was going to make sure nothing ruined it.

Later, as the meal came to an end, Lando walked you to the door of the restaurant, his nerves still lingering, but his smile genuine as he turned to face you.

“I’m really glad you came tonight,” he said softly. “I had a great time.”

You smiled warmly, the tension of the evening forgotten. “Me too. I’m glad we did this.”

Lando hesitated, his nerves creeping back again. “Maybe… maybe we could do it again sometime? I’d really like that.”

You nodded, your smile widening. “I’d like that too.”

As you turned to go, Lando lingered for a moment, still smiling. Lucas watched from a distance, his heart swelling with pride. He had kept his secret. He had done his part. And for tonight, everything had gone right.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hmma3 , @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris, @dr3wstarkey, @hurtblossom, @ernegren, @esposamultifandom, @papaya-twinks, @darleneslane

[straows]

𝘎𝘰𝘫𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯…

Gojo just got back from one of his week along missions. The man, no matter how powerful he was, was exhausted.

You were sadly not home when he got home, so he just groaned and stripped his shirt and pants off before plopping down on the bed. His body stiff as he sunk into it, back decompressing caused a grunt from him.

You came home an hour later, smiling when you noticed his shoes you get all excited. You put the groceries down and ran to your shared bedroom.

Only to see him passed the fuck out on the bed. Your smile softened and you leaned down, gently pulling off his shoes and his socks, before crawling up the bed and hover straddling his back.

Gently, you ran your nails up and down his back. Giggling softly when Gojo would groan softly.

“Hi baby,” you’d whisper, a cute little smile on your face as you moved from scratching his back to massaging the knots out.

Gojo could only relax further into the bed, but moved his head to the side so he could look back at him, “missed you, pretty.”

“How was the mission?” Leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to his back.

Gojo sighed, “fuck the elders.” He murmured before turning himself around, so his back was against the bed and you were now straddling his stomach. “Fuck all of them.” His large hands gently grasped your hips then up your waist before pulling you down against him. Now laying on top of him, your face buried in his neck.

“That good, huh?” You spoke, voice muffled as you placed little kisses to his neck and jaw. “Well I missed you. So much.”

Gojo smiled softly at you, eyes closed as he slipped his hands under your shirt and held your waist with his bare hands. Thumb moving gently across your soft skin. “I missed you too baby.”

“I got groceries so I can cook your favorite tonight.” You leaned up, propping yourself up on his chest with your forearm so you could look at him.

“I’m actually in love with you.” He wrapped his arm tight around you before flipping your positions so you were under him. “Love you so much,” he pressed a kiss to your lips then to your jaw before actually ripping your shirt off you.

You could gasp before laughing, “this is your shirt!”

“Fuck that shirt.” He murmured before leaving long wet kisses all down your chest. His hands reached behind you to unclip your bra (he knew how pissed you’d get if he broke your bra), and groaned at the sight of his girls free. “Wish you wouldn’t wear those, the ladies need air.” He pressed a kiss to the valley of your breasts before slipping one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Mm- I have to, or else everybody will see them under my shirt.” Your nails gently scratched his scalp as your ran your fingers through his hair. Your back arching whenever he’d light bite.

“You can just stay here with me forever. We can love to some far away island,” he moved away from your tits just move down your body. Big hands gripped your thighs and spread them apart so he could yank the jeans off of you.

“Oh yeah? An island far away?” You couldn’t help but smile. Your heart warm to the knowledge that your boyfriend loved you so much.

“Mhmm, and we can fill it,” he moved your thighs to his shoulders, so they would frame his face before pressing a kiss to the growing wet spot in your panties. “— with all our kids.”

Gasping softly, you immediately propped yourself up on your hands and gently pushed his face away, “baby no, let me take care of you. You just got home from a mission and everything.”

Gojo stared at you for a long moment. So long that you actually began to grow shy and you averted your gaze.

“Now how did I ever luck out with you?” He murmured, more to himself than anything. “I’ve been away from you and this pretty pussy for a week. Let me show you how much I miss you, and then you can do whatever you want to me.” He grinned, noticing how you squirmed slightly at his words, thighs trying to close.

“…fine.” You sighed, cheeks bright with a red hue and your brows furrowed slightly. It’d been a week since you’d been with Gojo, so you were both more than a little pent up.

“Good girl,” he murmured before doing as he pleased.

Gojo hated long missions. Hated being away from you. But oh did he love coming back from them, only to get pampered by you. Your usual witty and sharp comebacks replaced by sweet and gentle words.

He also loved how sensitive you were. You never touched yourself when he was gone. Neither did he. So it made it all the better when he came home.

[v4mpire45]

The Things He Doesn't Know — K. Bakugo

I plan on making this series so when I do the link will be here!

☞ Link: Part 2.

Bakugo x Jealous female reader

Synopsis: When you realize you're in love with your childhood best friend, but force you're feeling's down for the sake of your friendship.

You've never felt such anger in your life, and you had no reason to. It was silly, really silly and immature. But it upset you, and you couldn't quite understand why.

From your seat in the back, you watch her, your face contorting into a sour expression. The way she fired fiery retorts his way, and he responded with his usual scowl and equal fire.

You bit your lip. Why did this bother you so much? You're not the type to get jealous, so when did this start to matter?

You and Katsuki had been friends since childhood. When your family first moved to Musutafu and you started elementary school, he was the first kid you met. You'd always been shy, awkward, and introverted, and honestly, you still were.

You remember standing at the back of the classroom, hiding away from everyone, but in true Bakugo fashion, he marched over to you and demanded to know about your quirk. Hesitantly, you showed him, and to your surprise, he was impressed.

From that day onward, Katsuki Bakugo decided you would be his friend forever. And that’s stayed true all the way to now, your second year at U.A.

But over the past year, your feelings for Bakugo had changed. You’d both been through so much together, his kidnapping, the war, the moment he died right in front of you.

It wasn’t just him who had changed, though. You had too. You'd learned how to be more confident in yourself, to trust your abilities. You weren’t constantly second-guessing yourself or drowning in self-doubt.

And if there’s one major lesson this past year has taught you, it’s that time is money. When Bakugo died, you truly thought you'd never see your best friend again, and it hurt like hell. Like a part of you had been ripped away. That was when you realized maybe you didn’t just see Katsuki as a friend.

But it’s not like you’d tell him. Bakugo didn’t believe in relationships, he saw them as a distraction, a waste of time. He had enough on his plate without his best friend confessing she was in love with him.

You were fine just being Bakugo’s friend.

Or at least, you were, until Kimiko Suzuki came along.

She transferred into Class 2-A along with Hitoshi, and at first, you had no problem with her. She was chill with everyone, including you. But then her focus turned to Bakugo.

Kimiko was everything you weren’t, fierce, confident, and completely unbothered by social interactions. And if there was one thing about Kimiko Suzuki, it was that she was determined. She wanted to break through that tough barrier Bakugo kept up, the one only a handful of people had managed to get through.

At first, you told yourself it was just fleeting infatuation. Nothing to worry about.

Until Mina’s sleepover.

You still remember how your stomach twisted when Kimiko had confessed, “I think I have a little crush on Bakugo.” The girls had cooed and giggled, while a sharp, unfamiliar jealousy burned within you.

But it wasn’t a big deal, at least, not back then. Kimiko hadn’t been very forward about it, so you ignored it.

Well. That was before.

Recently, Kimiko hadn’t been so sneaky. She was openly flirting with him now, and it was obvious to everyone, including Bakugo.

And Bakugo, being Bakugo, either didn’t acknowledge it, or he just didn’t care. He never outright encouraged it, but he didn’t shut it down, either. He just responded with his usual sharp remarks.

Still, it wasn’t too worrying.

Actually, no. It was very worrying.

Just last Sunday, during another girls' hangout, the others had started plotting ways to set Kimiko and Bakugo up. And then Kimiko had turned to you, eyes hopeful, and asked the dreaded question.

"Do you think you could help me get closer to him? I mean, you two are so close."

You couldn’t exactly say no with all the girls staring at you. So you forced out the biggest lie of your life.

"Er... uh, yeah. I'd be happy to."

You weren’t happy at all.

But there was nothing you could do. You could only sit there now, scowling at the sight.

© 2025 v4mpire45 — All rights reserved. Please don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[prettyboykatsuki]

please you can’t mix a/b/o and LaDS. i’ll actually keel over and die. 

i can’t stop thinking about it ….

cw for dubcon kinda and rough sex. fem reader. psuedocest (gege. once shfjsjfj)

caleb in a rut. he grew up pretending to be a beta for your sake, taking as much suppressant medication and as many scent blockers as possible to make sure it was concealed. he wanted you to feel safe, to feel more at ease to the point he suppressed his own body completely

and then everything happens between you and caleb strictly forbids you entering his apartment during his rut. you don’t know it at the time, but they’re still permanently irregular from the whole soup of medications he took during his adolescence. so he has these crazy ruts like once or twice a year where he’s completely not himself.

you only found out he was an alpha recently, as in when he came back as a memeber of the fleet. but you’re partners now, you’re supposed to be equals so you want to help him thru his rut

caleb vehemently rejects you. of course he does. he’s not himself and he never wants to do something you do like.

but you’re stubborn and don’t listen so you go over to his apartment anyway. his scent is so thick it permeates from behind the front door of his place. when he answers it after your persistent yelling - he opens the door and it immediately assaults your senses. he’s shirtless, sweaty, pupils completely dilated. his voice is shot.

“go home. now”

he turns you away at the door. you get in each others face until you finally step on the right nerve and caleb yanks you inside and locks you in. cages your body against his front door with this terrifying look in his eyes, his hand gripping your jaw and making you look up at him “so fucking stubborn,”

you underestimate him when he says it’s bad. you dont realize how bad it is until you’re getting fucked over every surface of the house with little to no prep other that the left over, sticky spit from him trying to lick you open. he takes you first right by the door, your pants barely to your knees while your face is against the floor.

“wish you’d be a good girl and listen but you never do. maybe it’ll be a good lesson for you. remember it carefully”

caleb is always so gentle, so careful and kind but he’s forcing your pussy open like it’s nothing. splitting you on his cock as you cry. and he fucks you so deeply and so intense right from the jump, doesn’t ease you into it at all. he takes you on the floor before he helps you up and bends you over the kitchen counter, the back of the couch, pressed into missionary on the coffee table in his living room, on all fours on the stairs.

he’s being mean about it too. every time your pussy tightens up or clenches around him when he smacks it lightly or when he tortures your clit - he has this laugh that borders on callous. loving but humiliating at the same time

“no matter how much i stretch you open it feels like you’re trying to snap my dick off. do you want it so bad, hm?”

he’s merciless. he’s not himself. he makes sure you don’t hurt yourself when repositioning but you’re so full of cum and so sore you can barely move without limping. covered in these deep bite marks as he just goes again and again. mating like you’re animals until he comes out the haze

“how much cum do you think you have in here?” as he smacks your hip. “stay upright. don’t let it spill okay? since gege was so kind and gave it to you.”

he has moments of sobriety. you can always tell bc he becomes worried and affectionate- lapping at your wounds like an oversized dog. but it’s shortlived. the cycle starts again and your pussys wrapped around him like a sleeve for him to fuck.

you don’t get away from him for three days. it feels like your cunt is gonna stay stretched forever and caleb looks so sad and apologetic after. like a kicked dog

and as crazy as he is during - it’s also kind of . nice to feel how deeply he really desires you. the things he says during his ruts are demeaning but still somehow so lovesick and you kind of like seeing him let loose.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Fall Into the Dark With Me Part 3: Forever and Always✨

Dark Arts Professor! Joel Miller x Herbology Professor Fem! reader

Part 1

A/N: I wasn’t planning on another part, but a sweet ask came in and gave me some inspiration for another part. This one is so so soft and sweet 🥰 Happy Valentine’s Day from your favorite Slytherin and Hufflepuff lovers 🩷

Chapter Summary: You reminisce on your wedding day and your honeymoon. But that’s not the only thing you’re smiling about. You’re glowing because you’re carrying Joel’s child.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 2.5k

Chapter Tags: So much fluff, Joel in love, soft! Joel, Professor! Joel, Slytherin! Joel, Hufflepuff! reader, wedding night, reader is pregnant, flashbacks of smut

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You sway back and forth in the garden, tending to your fragrant lilies and fresh strawberries while the sunshine warms your bare arms, your summer dress flying in the breeze. You’re a little distracted today, a little nostalgic thinking back on your wedding night that was just four months ago. But really it seems like it was just last week. 

   A smile slips over your mouth; dreamy eyes stare into the distance where a water stream floats through an open valley, ending in a sea of green trees. Biting your bottom lip, you smile as you remember the moonlit wedding. Floating lanterns lit up the trees. Fireflies danced all around your flowing white dress. The one with the sheer sleeves and the bodice that glittered with crystals sewn into the silky fabric. 

   Time seemed to stop when you saw Joel at the end of the aisle—his hand lacing through his slicked back hair, a midnight black tuxedo hugging his broad body, a white bow tie to top off the sleek outfit. And in his hand sat a white lily. But not just a normal lily. No. It was the rarest flower you’ve ever seen. The one you showed him in your flower book. You didn’t know it actually still existed, but there it was, glittering under the moonlight, just waiting there for you. And when you got up to the altar, he laced it through your braid, told you how you were the rarest flower in all the land, so you deserved a flower that was as special as you. 

   And of course you cried. Gods, you cried when he took your hands in his and confessed his love all over again. He didn’t even need a paper; he just knew exactly what he wanted to say to you. And it was the most beautiful speech you ever heard in your life. 

   “My love. The moment I saw you across the Great Hall, I just knew you were the one. I fell in love the moment I laid eyes on you. I remember you waltzing in with a book about lilies under your arm and an empty flowerpot in the other.” He had to stop for a minute because he was chuckling under his breath, but it didn’t take him long to continue. “You stole my breath away the moment you pulled me by the hand in your classroom and walked me through how to properly handle a Venomous Tentacula. And even though most people are scared of them, you weren’t one bit. You handled it so gently and talked so sweet to it. I’ve never seen quite anything like it in my life.”

   More tears spilled from your eyes, but he just kept going, squeezing your hand all through it. “You captured my heart with how kind, caring, and gentle you are with everything. Plants, animals, children, me.” He shook his head with a smile and continued on. “But it wasn’t just your heart I fell in love with. It was your entire soul. The way you’d leave me flowers outside my classroom. The way you planted a garden in my heart. The way you continuously loved me, even through the days I relentlessly teased you and gave you hell. You never gave up on a not so easy Slytherin like me. You showed me what it’s like to be kind. You showed me how to love unconditionally. And baby, I jus’ can’t wait to spend the rest of my life lovin’ you the way you deserve. I want to give you the entire world. And I promise you this. There’s never a day I won’t stop lovin’ you. It’s you and me forever, baby. Jus’ a sly Slytherin with his kind Hufflepuff wife. You’re my whole world.” 

   And then he tugged you close after the two of you said your I do’s, his lips consuming you as fireflies danced around your tight embrace. It was like a dream, and he made it the dreamiest wedding you could’ve ever imagined. Even went as far as planning most of it with you. He never slipped, never strayed on any of the decisions. He was there through it all, your hand in his. 

   And then there was the honeymoon in Croatia. That blissful, two week filled vacation of just you and him. Endless love making in the sheets, his body between yours, slow strokes of his hands, relentless snapping of his hips, his mouth between your thighs, lapping you up till you climaxed twice before his cock was buried between your slick folds. You both barely made it out of the room. Instead of endless sightseeing and boat rides on the crystal clear water, you traded it for long soaks in the bath, his broad body flush against yours, his mouth magnetized to yours till all you could smell, breathe, think was Joel. 

   Joel, Joel, Joel. 

   He’s all you’re ever able to say. He’s just so… perfect. The perfect husband, lover, father…

   Father. Yes. A slow smile slips over your mouth, makes you blush as you wrap your arms around your middle, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you think about the near future. Joel’s going to be a father again, with your child. He just doesn’t know it yet. But today is the day you tell him. Today is the moment you’ve been waiting for. 

   Hiding this has been hard, extremely hard. You’ve been dying to tell him. You just wanted it to be the perfect moment. He’s been gone the last few weeks taking Sarah and Ellie on a late summer trip before they have to go back to school. He begged you to go hiking with them, practically got down on his knees and pleaded for you to go. Said he couldn’t stand being away from you for one night. But hiking and camping was no place for a pregnant woman of now almost four months. So you stayed here, but not alone. Joel’s mother came and stayed with you, making sure the baby was healthy and that you were taken care of. Now it’s time to tell Joel the good news. Hiding your stomach the past few nights had been hard, but you can’t hide any longer. You’re starting to show, so it’s time. It’s time to announce he’s going to be a daddy again. 

   Just as you get lost in the view of the sunlit garden, Joel sneaks up behind you and wraps his arms around you, peppering kisses all along the side of your jawline. “How’s my beautiful wife today?” he asks in a soft tone, dragging his lips slowly down your neck.

   You giggle at the showering of love. Turning toward him, you lock your arms around his neck and lean in, crashing your lips over his for a few blissful seconds. When you pull back, you smile up at him. “Perfectly happy, my love. Now that you’re back home.”

   “I missed you so much, sweetheart. Missed getting to hold my girl at night. Missed the taste of your lips,” he drawls, tugging you in for another heart-stopping kiss. One that makes the ground shake beneath you, makes the ocean tides lap against the shorelines a little harder, makes the sun shine a little brighter. 

   “We missed you too,” you reply quietly, hoping he catches the we. 

   He pinches his brows together, tilts his head to the side, his eyes swimming with questions. “We?”

   You smile, nod up at him. 

   This is it. This is the perfect moment. The moment that’ll change everything. And you think the baby knows that, too. 

   Taking one of his hands in yours, you slowly guide it to your stomach and flatten his palm over the small bump that’s now showing under your summer dress. And just then, the baby makes its presence known with a little flutter of a kick. 

   Joel jumps back, his arm falling back to his side with wide eyes. He’s absolutely stunned. He blinks once, twice, then steps forward in a hurry and places both his hands across the length of your stomach, searching for that little flutter he just felt seconds ago. And just like that, the baby kicks once more, just for Joel. 

   Lifting his big eyes, his mouth drops open in awe. “Are you…”

   You nod, smiling up at him with love written all over your eyes. “I’m pregnant, Joel.” 

   His brown eyes swell with tears, his vision probably hazy as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, letting his palm brush against your cheek affectionately. “We’re gonna have a baby?”

   Placing your hand over his, you nod. “We’re having a baby. You’re going to be a father to three now,” you smile with tears welling in your eyes. 

   It only takes him a second to pick you up off the ground, spinning you around while he shouts into the air, “This is the happiest day of my life! My beautiful wife is pregnant with my child! I’m gonna be a father!” 

   You giggle as he spins you; your heart about to burst at the seams with happiness. “Joel, put me down! Your wife is a little motion sick right now.”

   “Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, setting you back on your feet where the earth isn’t spinning anymore. He cups your cheeks between his palms and stares at you with love in his big brown eyes, his heart all over his rolled up sleeves. “You’re gonna be such a good mother, sweetheart. I’m so fuckin’ happy.”

   Stealing a quick kiss from your lips, you lace your fingers through his tousled curls and melt into a big smile. “And you are going to be the best father. I’m so excited, Joel.”

   Tugging you into his chest, he wraps his arms around you and kisses the crown of your head. “What do you think the baby’s gonna be? A boy, a girl?”

   You toss the question back and forth in your head, undecided. “I’m not sure. Guess we’ll have to wait to find out,” you hum out, closing your eyes as possibilities flit through your mind. You have this weird feeling like you know exactly the gender of your baby, and you hope you’re right. 

   “I hope it’s a girl,” he whispers in your ear. And you can’t help but smile at that because he’s such a good girl dad. You’d give anything to see him holding your baby girl in his arms, rocking her to sleep, sending her to bed with forehead kisses and words of affirmation. 

   Somehow, you just have this feeling that that’s what’s coming. A little girl wrapped in a pink blanket, being welcomed by the most handsome, gentle Slytherin you know. Would she be tough, witty like her father, or would she inherit your love of flowers and magical creatures? Maybe she’ll be both. Smart, sweet, a gentle Hufflepuff maybe? Either way, she’ll be perfect. She’ll be a miracle in this world just waiting to bloom. 

   You spend the rest of the day with your hand laced through his, planning the baby’s room, telling Sarah and Ellie they’re going to be big sisters. And it’s all so perfect. It’s all wonderful—this new journey you’re about to embark on. And you’re ready. With Joel, you can conquer anything. 

   Gods. You’re just so fucking happy. Nothing could make this more perfect than life already is.

   Later that night, when you’re wrapped in Joel’s strong arms under the silky sheets, you toss and turn, your dreams so vivid and real. But this isn’t just any dream. You’re having visions, real visions. Sometimes this happens, you just can’t control them. They’re a gift passed down by generations of your family, a special kind of magic you still haven’t perfected. 

   Your eyelids flutter back and forth while the vision takes hold inside your head. A bright light flashes in the distance, gold dust sparkling all around the sky. But when you look into the light, you freeze at what you see in front of you. A little girl running through the green grass, chasing after Joel. She’s got bouncy brunette curls, big brown eyes that remind you of Joel’s, rosy cheeks, and the cutest laugh you’ve ever heard. He scoops her up and throws her in the air, quickly catching her as she giggles into a fit of laughter, Joel’s laugh echoing through the air. You see it so clearly. That’s your little girl. She’s the spitting image of Joel, and she’s so fucking beautiful and bright and glowing. She’s got a special kind of gift—one you’re not sure yet. But there’s one thing you do know. That little girl is yours and Joel’s, and she’s going to be so, so loved. 

   You’re suddenly thrown out of the vision, your eyes snapping open just as Joel groans and wakes up, pushing his fingers affectionately through your hair. “You okay, baby? Have a bad dream?”

   Tears well in your eyes, and you shake your head, not quite able to catch your breath. You’re too stunned, too emotional from seeing what the future holds. 

   “Hey, you alright? Why are you crying?” he asks with concern lathered in his tone. Carefully, he catches a falling tear with the pad of his thumb and caresses your cheek. 

   You wrap your hand around his wrist and look up at him, happy tears filling your eyes. “It’s a girl, Joel.”

   His eyes go wide as his mouth drops open. “Are you sure?”

   You nod, biting your bottom lip. “I had one of my visions just now. And I saw… I saw you playing with her in the garden. She looked just like you, Joel. She’s so beautiful. And she loves you so much…” Without being able to contain yourself, you bury your face into his neck, let him scoop you up as he kisses the top of your head, holds you just a little tighter. 

   “Oh, my darlin’ girl. I already love her so fuckin’ much, jus’ like I love you. My beautiful, pregnant wife. You make me so fuckin’ happy, I hope you know that.”

   You nuzzle into his warmth, breathe in the woodsy scent of his musk and let out a smile. “Not as happy as you make me, my love. You’re such a good father, a good husband. The best part of every day,” you confess with love threaded through every syllable you speak. 

   “C’mere, sweetheart.” He cups your chin and lifts your mouth to his, dripping his love all over you in slow, affectionate kisses. You melt into his body, get tangled up with him in the sheets, drown in his very essence as he peppers light kisses over your growing stomach. 

   You think you could watch him like this forever. He already loves her so much, just like he loves you. You can’t wait to see him bloom into a new father, can’t wait to see him raise your child beside you. Forever partners in crime. That troublemaker Slytherin with a warm, gentle Hufflepuff. But he’s just as soft and gentle as you now. He’s everything you ever wanted. And now, he’s going to be the father of your child. 

   You can’t wait to spend forever with your one and only lover. And you can’t wait to bring a gentle soul into the world. Your sweet little girl. You just can’t wait to meet her. Can’t wait to do your entire life with your perfect little family.

[hitlikehammers]

steddie does the 🌷flower-blooming🌷 disease love thing—but make it ✨only softness✨

OR: think hanahaki with a princess romantic, ✨non-life threatening✨, horticultural🌿 streak

Honestly: after everything, the flowers should not have been a surprise. And look: sappy romance novels might talk about choking on them or what the fuck ever, about it being lethal if unrequited, blah blah etcetera. But as far as Eddie ever understood, it was kinda like…your body having too much of a thing, and needing to expel it, lest it cause some kind of imbalance. But when it was love—requited or otherwise—it expelled itself as something a little horrifying, but undeniably beautiful. Flowers. And you tend them as best you can. They’re a part of you. Because it’s terrifying. But it’s beautiful. You’re in love that big.

rating: t ♥️ tags: post-s4, falling in love, friends to lovers, fluff, romance, softness, hanahaki disease, or really more: hanahaki-adjacent 🌺🌻, as in: NO life-threatening angst ONLY big feelings and beauty, feelings reveal, love confessions, happy ending♥️

for @steddielovemonth day sixteen: “If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.” ― Alfred Tennyson

A lot had changed since Vecna. Aches and pains that weren’t there before. Nightmares featuring a very new cast of characters. A family he never could have imagined cobbling together who actually took the concept seriously, in a way Eddie had never felt anything close to in his life—save with Wayne. Random worries that plagued a lot of random moments, unprovoked.

Steve goddamn Harrington sliding almost too-perfectly into every little crevice of Eddie’s life—except for the sexy ones and…that hadn’t started as a problem. In fact, it hadn’t started even as a consideration, because gorgeous as he is? Straight-hero-boy was never gonna be on Eddie’s metaphorical dance card. So it’d been a much less convoluted and earth-shattering experience—though it still very much was both of those things; just less—to wake up in the hospital with Steve napping at his side, or squinting at a pamphlets nurse had left about physical therapy; or waking up and Steve was already in the kitchen making breakfast, like real breakfast, when Eddie’s meal standards usually involved shoving his hand into a box and stuffing his mouth with theta he could grab. Or Steve just, stopping by before or after his shifts, to see if Eddie needed anything. To listen to Eddie ramble about a campaign, or bring Eddie the latest release from a band he said he liked probably one time. To fall asleep on the bed on top of the comforter and cut the nightmares short just by rolling over with a hand to eddies chest and a muffled S’okay.

Or most uncanny: coming over, just to hang out.

So getting used to all that made it easier to segue into going to visit Steve at work when Eddie could finally move around enough to drive again. Stopping at Steve’s place unannounced when he’d finally been convinced he was genuinely welcome—by way of Steve giving him a key, what the fuck—and that there really were no parents waiting with pitchforks. Trying his own hand at making meals for when Steve worked midday shifts, so he’d have something when he pulled in—so what if it’s frozen pizza. It’s the fucking thought that counts—and Eddie really does need to start small. He really can’t start a fire in Steve’s kitchen, so he needs to get a decent track record going here in his own first.

Because he does want to cook for Steve. In Steve’s kitchen. When he spent the night at Steve’s, even. When he kept some nightmares in check.

Honestly: after all that, the flowers should not have been a surprise.

And look: sappy romance novels—aimed either at horny teenagers or housewives who can’t get a refill on their antidepressants—might talk about choking on them or what the fuck ever, about it being lethal if unrequited, blah blah etcetera. But as far as Eddie ever understood, it was kinda like…your body having too much of a thing, and needing to expel it, lest it cause some kind of imbalance. Like lots of…body things.

But when it was love—requited or otherwise—it expelled itself as something a little horrifying, but undeniably beautiful.

Flowers.

So when Eddie starts growing jasmine from his fingertips; honeysuckle in the hairs on his arms and legs; bluebells from every line of scar tissue, no matter where it ran; alternating sunflowers, dahlias, and red asters, straight from the center of his sternum, always in the same order and always accompanied by whichever wasn’t steadily unfurling from his chest, the other two in spades were getting coughed up not violently, but persistently, in the meantime—always, like all of it, a little fucking terrifying—with blossoms of lisianthus to cover both his nipples—which he had to look up; they were real pretty but fuck if he’d ever seen one before it bloomed his tits like a Renaissance painting trying to be censored by a stray leaf—before he pulled them all the way out and sparked the cycle again: horrifying. But he knew enough that the point was to cultivate the growth, the encourage your own body doing its thing to keep you a-okay (or close enough), so he does what everyone’s taught to do, if this…challenge happens to visit upon them.

You fucking plant them. So they can take root the way they want to but can’t—whether because it’s too much for anyone to speak and show even their truest, most treasured partner, or because they don’t, or can’t, have a partner with whom to even try—but you plant the growing things, the living embodiment of what your heart’s beating out of your pores.

Literally.

And you tend them as best you can. They’re a partof you.

Because it’s terrifying. But it’s beautiful.

You’re in love that big.

And of course Eddie knows why. He watches Steve sleep too much, touches his chest to ease the nightmares too much, cooks next to him too much, feels his breath catch at his side on the sofa too much, for him not to know.

He’s kinda proud of it, actually. Because what he feels is this huge and terrifying and exquisite. No matter what he can never do about it with his gorgeous straight now-undoubtedly-best friend.

But it is massive and terrifying and beautiful, and fuck yeah his every cell should be blossoming a testament to the fact that he, freak-supreme Edward Munson, gets to feel it. No matter what comes or doesn’t—save for the flowers themselves.

It’s predictable, though, and definitely in line with both Eddie’s general mixed bag of luck, as much as with the life and routine and expectation of the presence of Steve goddamn Harrington, that…well:

“What is this?”

Eddie tapping down the soil around the last of this morning’s ready-to-transplant blossoms he plucked straight out the shower—good for like…watering and stuff.

He thinks.

He hadn’t heard Steve’s approach, is the thing. And he’s never shown Steve this little space, cordoned off at the edge of the woods behind the little house their government money earned them. It’s mostly out of sight. There no reason to poke around out here.

Save…well. This reason.

“Just my garden,” Eddie tries to say all casual, keep it light like his heart’s not in his goddamn throat.

“You,” Steve says slow, walks the perimeter like he recognizes on sight what this is, what this means, that it’s all terrifying and beautiful and something close to sacred.

All he says is:

“These can’t grow this fast.”

Like he actually does specifically know for a fact that the various species in the ground in front of them couldn’t naturally be this big, this fast, in the time since the Munsons moved in.

Eddie still asks, because he’s never taken Steve here, wasn’t expecting Steve to find him here now, and his heart’s still knocking wild at the base of his fucking throat:

“How do you know?”

Steve looks at Eddie for a series of blinks that feel probably a lot longer for how many heartbeats fit into the space of time. Then he shrugs, eyes back to the flowers:

“I like to garden.”

That’s news to Eddie.

“How do you know I didn’t like to garden, too? Y’know, before?”

Because Eddie could have. Not like they’d known each other. He doesn’t know where in the fucking trailer park he’d have done it, let alone hidden it from view so as to have no evidence, but he couldhave. These beauties could have been salvaged from a former home, a half-former life, for all anyone could prove—the trailer’s long been confiscated and the lot it’s sat on’s still quarantined.

Steve leans over the sad little fence Eddie’s put up around the edges, where the larger plants—mostly the ones that burst out from the center of his chest—make a border. His eyes flick up to Eddie’s as he reaches for a petal, but doesn’t touch: he’s asking permission.

And of course Eddie nods, because anything he has is Steve’s. No question.

“Who is it for?”

Eddie nearly can’t stop himself from snorting because: anything he has is Steve’s.

This, maybe most of all.

“No one I can have,” Eddie leans against the opposite line of fencing as Steve strokes bright red, bright yellow, satiny fronds that looks right in his hands.

“That’s insane,” of Steve’s response, more to the flowers than to Eddie.

Bur at the very least it lets Eddie get the snort he’d stifled earlier out as he deadpans:

“Gee, thanks.”

Steve looks up then. Petals still held delicate between deft fingertips.

“No, I just,” and his eyes are wide when he glances back down, releases the petals gently, makes sure they fall back to where they’re meant to lie. Pristine.

Precious.

Something pings like a plucked string in eddies chest, underneath where he’s due for a sunflower to appear real soon

“I mean, loving you would be such a,” Steve looks up and locks with Eddie’s eyes:

“A privilege.”

More plucking in Eddie’s chest for that, Jesus fuck. The sprouting of a petal above the sensation. Quicker; more urgent—his heartbeat slamming like it’s pushing the blossom out all on its own.

Eddie doesn’t know what to make of that, save maybe that’s how this works, when the reason for it all is standing in front of you, spouting…this.

This.

Then Steve’s glancing around a little more, taking in the varietals on display a little more intently before he adds:

“Flowers or no flowers.”

He says it almost a little breathy, but. It might just be Eddie’s imagination.

“I never really understood it,” Steve goes on, apropos of everything but still kinda out of nowhere all the same. “Like is it supposed to be a, a modern day dowry or something? But it’s not worth money which, I guess,” he licks his lips, and Jesus H, he’s so fucking beautiful.

Terrifying, but beautiful.

“That would be better, really,” Steve decides with a gentle little smile. “Means more.”

It means…everything, really. Steve means everything.

Flowers or no, he already did. And now, it’s…Eddie kinda appreciates the terror. He loves knowing, having tangible proof of how his heart’s that set, and unwavering with it.

“I wished for it. As a kid.”

Eddie tilts his head as Steve lifts a while sunflower—the one flower especially that Eddie knows gives full weight to the who of all this.

As if there was any question.

“So many times,” and Steve’s burying his face a little in the massive head of the flower—they don’t smell like much, Eddie’s learned.

But he kind of thinks what they do smell like, really is sunshine.

“Can I,” Steve swallows, straightens, looks hopeful, nervous.

Beautiful; terrified.

“Can you, just,” he clears his throat, and extends a hand; “cane you come with me somewhere?”

As if it’s a question. As if it’s ever been a question.

His hand’s in Steve’s between heartbeats.

“I need to show you something,” Steve whispers, but his smile is…golden.

The car ride is silent, but they done let go. Eddie gets led into the Harrington house, up the stairs, farther down the hall than he ever really goes.

He understands why once the door to one of the last rooms is opened, and as he’s led inside.

“Steve…”

He takes in the fragrance; he takes in a puzzling cross of chaos and maze-like intrigue in raised flower beds under greenhouse lights. It’s like a puzzle, a game, on a rich-boy budget.

It’s two lives, laid out in a single beautiful testament.

“I didn’t always love to garden, just always wanted to,” Steve murmurs low; terrified—but so so warm; “wanted to feel enough, to garden.”

Eddie turns from taking in the intricate lines from a bird’s eye perspective, appreciating how it draws him in, like it, like it’s for—

“Who,” he chokes around the question he can’t help but ask, hope to big and goring, a bubble set to burst through his ribs:

“Who’s it for?”

Steve leans closer, raises a brow.

“Eddie,” he says pointedly; it’s terrifying, how beautiful Eddie’s stupid simple name sounds in that voice, on that tongue.

Steve grabs Eddie’s hands again and walks the through the labyrinth slow, intentional, and eddies breath catches when it hits him: they’re all the same.

The flowers are familiar because their gardens are the same.

Save for one striking difference. A notable lack of yellow. But then—

Steve crouches a little, lifts a very delicate flower hanging from a broad-growing shrub, frames it in the hollow of his palm.

“What do they look like, to you?” Steve asks, but the answer’s fucking obvious:

Music notes. They’re, they’re…

They’re Steve’s garden’s sunflowers.

They’re the ones that make it undeniable, the answer to Eddie’s shaky-hopeful question.

But if they weren’t, if they somehow were not themselves enough—

Steve pulls Eddie close, close, closer.

Kisses his mouth as satin-sweet as a petal between fingertips.

And Eddie’s chest feels like it’s blooming every shade of loving, all at once, for the discovery:

He hadn’t even scratched the surface of just how much love he could feel. And there’s not terror in it, now.

But there is so much more beauty.

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @allmyfavoritethingsinoneblog @anthrobrat @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @disrespectedgoatman @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @madigoround @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here and here

[laniemae]

I would absolutely adore to learn more about Takeshi's brothers. I just know they hold unnecessary guilt for how Takeshi has turned out and wondering if they failed him.

Oh absolutely. I’m also really interested to learn more about Ojima’s brothers. From what we know Ojima’s brothers are the only real people he has close to him especially that his parents have been arrested.

It’s sad after bruise knowing that they were the only ones who actually cared about what he was going through when he was really young. Unfortunately as much his brothers were also kids growing up under an abusive household whomst all the adults in their life failed them. I like to think that even with everything horrible that was happening they really did try their best to keep Ojima safe if anything. He says they’re the best people he has in his life and care about him so it’s good he has some support.

Although one thing I’ve been thinking about forever that has CONSTANTLY been bugging my mind is that it seems Ojima’s brothers left their household while Ojima was still a kid. Think about it, in the secret logs it said after the arrest of his parents Ojima moved in with his older brothers house, basically saying they had already left at that time. And all the way back in Ojima in Wonderland he said that he has two older brothers, but they’ve moved out by now. Which we know is a lie because he lives with them but I feel like it could hold some truth to it. That at some point when Ojima was still a kid, they both moved out and left Ojima behind. It makes me think what could’ve happened where they couldn’t bring Ojima along with them and was forced to leave him behind with all the abuse he was facing. I wonder if his brothers moved out in a way that they escaped, or were old enough to move out and how old Ojima was when it happened. And maybe it could be the reason why Takeshi is the specific one to be chosen to be the heir despite being the youngest. Either way I can imagine they feel really guilty over leaving Ojima behind like this and especially how in the secret logs it’s mentioned they’re super protective over him.

Another thing I also think about a lot with his brothers is that since they’re part of the Ojima family they probably went through abuse as well. Especially how it’s mentioned they have a social worker. It’s likely they experienced physical and emotional abuse from their father from what we know he’s like. But I’m not sure if they also experienced sexual abuse from their uncle like Takeshi did. I really don’t know but there’s a part of me that thinks probably not as one of Takeshi’s brothers told their father what was happening after he told them which lead to the gaslighting. And I feel like maybe if they did go through it as well they would’ve known how their father would’ve treated them? I’m not sure on this it’s just what I’m thinking.

I just have a lot to think about Ojima’s brothers and especially how they relate to his story so much. I find it fun how even though they grew up to an insurance company Tetsuya (the oldest brother) is an utatite and the other brother (Toshi I think?) is an influencer. Like they chose the most wildly different careers and since Tetsuya is an utatite there’s an almost 100% chance that Takeshi may be a fan of vocaloid which I absolutely love.

But man it just makes me sad knowing that Ojima has been kidnapped and is likely never coming back. Like I said I can imagine how bad his brothers felt leaving him behind with his family and in the secret logs there was one entry where they got extremely paranoid over Ojima disappearing for a while, which turned out to be him zoning out at school. And now that he’s actually gone and from how protective they are over him that must be incredibly painful. And just I always think that right before Ojima disappeared it said that him and his brothers were talking about getting a cat and they were all in favour of the idea. I wonder if they ever did end up adopting that cat, perhaps in memory of Takeshi.

[shieldofiron]

did you ever read everything i never told you by celeste ng

bc spoiler alert if you haven't, but there's this family of 5, three kids. the oldest is a boy and he has two younger sisters. the boy and the middle sister are in high school, 12th and 10th if you live in the states.

ok so the brother hates this guy they go to school with (who happens to be their neighbor). he thinks their neighbor is like bad news idk. he sleeps around, smokes, and he doesn't have a dad. so like typical bad boy for a book set in the 70s. so the brother hates him, and when she's angry at him, his younger sister in 10th grade becomes his friend. they're friends, they hang out, but when she tries to actually try something with their neighbor, he admits that he can't do anything with this girl he's been in love with her brother for years.

anyway, if max were older i could totally see this being applied to stranger things. a part of the reason the brother hates his neighbor so much was because of misunderstandings that made him believe that their neighbor was racist, as they're a chinese american family. maybe billy has an interaction with steve where he comes off as snotty or spoiled, and writes him off after that

I actually truck so much with the idea that after the events of s2 Billy would just be like "Steve is a creep with kids in the woods and had kids lure my sister out there" and, unless corrected, would continue to think that forever.

And I'll NEVER stop writing Steve's devastation realizing Billy's view of what happened.

Also, I need to read this book real bad.

[sweatinghoneybee]

Been reading this x reader fanfic of Epic: the musical and animal crossing called 'Epic: The Fair Maiden' in @kquil's side blog kqutie and I've been loving the premise so much so I've decided to make a new OC based off of the fanfic she has made. And I'm honestly I'm so glad to find another fix it fanfic caus elile as much as I love the musical, it has given me too much angsts like damnit my boy Polites died when he has just finished singing a happy song and my guy Eurylochus wasn't able to get back home to his wife! Like come on! The guy also been loyal for so long like his bro Ody! Get him back to his wifey!

And disclaimer no the what I drew here isn't how reader is said to look like in the fic but it's just my Interpretation since reader is based off of reader themselves.

I named my OC Theo cause the name means miracle and also cause even tho the reader is called fair maiden by everyone in the fic (can I just say that I love how the reader is being referred to by an actual title instead of like y/n or like an "insert name here" cause like I love this part so much cause it makes the story so much more immersive somehow in head, I don't know maybe I just love how the reader is referred to something else after reading so many fanfics that makes you need to insert a name when you read a part of the name) I don't know why but I thought it would be so funny that her real name would rhyme with Calypso since in the story she's basically like the anti-Calypso cause unlike Calypso who wants to keep Odysseus so that he'll be with her forever the second the fair maiden meets the whole crew she does everything she can to get all these grown ass man to finally have some peace while she helps them be tip top shape to get back home and is Odysseus' and by extension Eurylochus' supporter in getting these two loving husbands to get back to their beloved wives (⁠●⁠♡⁠∀⁠♡⁠)

For the look I gave her I don't know why but I thought of strawberries when I made her and I thought it'll be so cute cause like she's so sweet in the fic and also she can't talk which added a unintentionally reference to Ariel and basically because she's a disney princess here, so with that I gave her bright red hair with strawberry flowers covering it and I also made her have these cone swirl hairstyles? (What do you call this hairstyles in anime) As abit of a reference to how Eurylochus says that no outfit (which I'm extending to hair here) will stop her from doing any labor work. And I gave her green eyes as like the green leaf on strawberries. And I sorta wanted her to be short and have a plump body type cause like she's being referred shorter then Eurylochus and also being referred to be like a chipmunk when she ran a grabbed every single gold from the money tree in the fic. And I thought the plump body shape would fit since I think if I remember correctly in ancient Greece a woman being more plump is considered beautiful and with how the story literally gave her the title fair maiden I think it fits well! And then I just gave her the dresses that's being described in the fic and done! Honestly the hardest fore to draw is the whale shark, seriously coloring that thing's spots are hard!

That's all I'm gonna say, please if any of you all haven't read this fic and are interested here's a link for the master list of this fic

This story has two versions, a platonic version and the not platonic version so if any of you all are not interested on reading romance and just wanted to read a story of you being friends with the whole crew there's a choice for you (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ please give the author some love Kay? She really worked hard to make these story so give her many appreciations she deserves! She even made a poll about whether or not she should make a different ending for the two different versions so please support her in her efforts! Can't wait to so what she'll decide to end this series since the ending is soon! So those who want to join in before it ends, come on quickly and come join reading this cozy fic! ＼⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠／

[waynes-multiverse]

Oh, for sure they shipped that kid off to Mrs. Brooks as soon as she fainted. Ben probably threw him outta the car on the way home lol. And he had definitely developed a hatred for the bedroom door 😂🩷

snorts What a good comeback, though surprised Ben acknowledged that so easily. 😝

Haha I actually gave Rehab a reread to get a feel for them again, and he grew increasingly more self-deprecating toward the end 😆 (He also knows that arguing about this with his wife who literally knows would be useless lol)

God I'm so relieved!! You had me going there for a while. 😭 But with your promise of a happy ending here I held onto my seat and kept calm.

Honestly, my heart couldn't have taken it either after everything I've put them through 🙈💕

Also I love that eating enough to feed a small army was part of her recuperation lolll. Talk about ravenous -- but I have a feeling she's craving something else now. 😏❤️‍🔥

Bahaha yes, it's been a while for both of them 😏 At least she's not a supe anymore, and Ben can relax a little more 😂🔥

LOLL honestly I'm kind of with him on that one. Why is everything labelled a "kink" nowadays? 🤣🤣🤣

Oh, so true! Thank you gramps for saying what we can't 😂 (But seriously, breeding kink used to be just baby fever. Like, am I wrong??? lol)

Wayne omggg! Seeing your note at the end, I DO remember sending you that Ask!! I'm so happy to see it done here because it's absolutely perfect for these two and this moment. Thank you for using the idea! 🥹💓 Deep down, Gramps just wants to be made love to, and you gave him his heart's desire. 😘

So happy you enjoyed what I did with it! Thank you so much for giving me that prompt, Alex!! I really could see this for them, especially since they've been more on the wilder, experimental side, so this was a nice switch and they seemed to both really need that. Not me getting sappy explaining goddamn smut lmao 😭😭

*snorts* 🤭😏 I see you, Wayne.

Also on brand that he'd be such an ungrateful whiny sourpuss on his birthday. 🙄

Ikr? 😂 And I genuinely think it was all the reasons you mentioned. Getting older, being over birthdays in general because it's been goddamn too many, and then no super blow job?! Tsk, poor man-child...

YES. I have this headcanon too, that this is the only way to manipulate him into doing what you want. Especially when he's being a prima donna. 🤣

Hahaha totally! This is why we're still the smarter gender, even though we forget feminism with SB 🤣🤣

GOD he's so dumb for this loll. That's actually a really cute way to tell hubby you have a bun in the oven. 🥹

I broke down laughing writing this because I could see him totally not catching on 😂😂 (Also when has that man actually ever seen a pregnancy test from this century? lol)

But I thought the idea was sweet. I've seen a couple of people do this in reels over the years, and men generally take forever to read a test correctly (and its implications lol). I swear the video I made of my husband still makes me laugh so hard because he had no fucking clue what I was trying to tell him 🤣🤣

(And I have a few more drabbles planned for them, including Benny 🥰)

Thank you so much for reading and all your sweet comments, friend!! 🥹🩵🩷 I honestly can't wait for a little reading break after this and dive into your HC about Man Flu because I feel that title in my bones lmfao 😂

Lover – Part 3

Series Summary: Free from his past, Ben’s trying to move on and find a little drop of happiness in this new world. But when he finally holds everything he ever wanted in his hands, it threatens to slip through the cracks, and he has to fight one final time with everything he’s got to keep it.

🫡 Catch up here! Sequel to Rehab & Video Games.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female!Reader

Warnings: 18+ due to language & mature themes, established relationship, Soldier Boy x wife!reader, human!Soldier Boy, the fluffiest of fluff, the smuttiest of smut (watch out for the breeding kink lol) 😉

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day to you all, loves! 💕 Thank you so much for all your wonderful comments over the last few days. I've seen and appreciate them all and will catch up with you guys over the weekend 🥰 For now, excuse this poor mama, 'cause she is fucking beat 😂

Enjoy the happy end 🩵

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 3: Lovestruck

Three fucking days he had waited in front of that goddamn door.

He slept in front of that door, ate in front of that door, and he silently panicked in front of that door. He hated that fucking door, had raging murder fantasies about it, but he never, ever opened said fucking door, no matter how much his fingers were twitching. Mostly because every time his hand did wrap around the knob, she’d yell at him to ‘stay the fuck out.’

Ben only unwillingly complied.

But when the quiet came and all other noises stopped, he finally dared to set a foot inside. The bedroom looked normal, even if disarrayed – but the bathroom surely needed a fucking remodel.

All that remained of their bathtub was a solidified puddle of acrylic. There was also a hole in the floor – burned right through the tiles. He’d wondered why it’d been so cold in there till he'd noticed the giant hole in the wall too that gave a perfect view of their backyard. But he found Y/N resting and curled up on the cool, white tiles – alive.

His heart might have fucking soared higher than an eagle.

When Ben asked her how she felt, she only replied with “Like I fucking survived D-Day.”

At that, Ben had snorted and said, “At least one of us did.”

And when they were both sure the worst was over and she wouldn’t turn the car into bubbling liquid as well, Ben finally drove her to a hospital. She was still weak, mostly from not eating a thing in four days. The doctors thought she must’ve had a severe case of the flu, gave her an IV drip with plenty of nutrients, and then released her after a few tests.

She’s been exhausted since then, drifting in and out of dreamland as he holds her in his embrace. She begins to stir again, and soon enough, she glances tiredly up at him through her eyelashes and gives him a lazy smile when she realizes he’s still here, exactly where he was hours ago when she last woke up.

“How late is it?” she asks and stretches a little in his arms but only ends up snuggling closer to him.

“Close to three,” he replies, and judging by the darkness outside their bedroom window, she guesses he doesn’t mean in the afternoon. “How are you feeling?”

Y/N almost breaks a smile. She can’t remember if he had ever asked this much about her well-being before. Her little brush with death might have shaken his steeled core more than she’d initially figured, and her heart swells slightly at the thought.

Sometimes, she still thinks he only keeps her around because he doesn’t know any better. It’s like getting an abused dog from the shelter – you never know if they really love you or if they only tolerate you because you’re nice enough to feed them.

He’s a creature of habit, after all.

But the affection and genuine worry gleaming in his pine green eyes tells her he might see more in her than that – whatever the hell that is.

“Better.” She nods, letting her fingers trace patterns around the golden freckles on his chest. Much better, she thinks as she feels the familiar heat pool between her legs. She bites down on her lower lip and presses herself closer to his perfectly toned and muscular body. It’s been too long since she’s worshipped every fucking glorious inch of him. “I think the fried chicken and noodles helped,” she adds with a small grin.

He chuckles – but not at her words. He can feel how she’s rubbing her thighs together now to get a little friction.

“Oh, I’m sure the burger, fries, sushi, and tacos helped, too,” he teases her. He came this close to entering her in one of those eating competitions as he watched her empty take-out container after container.

“Don’t forget the churros.” She giggles, and on cue, she rolls fully on top of him and straddles his waist, spreading featherlight kisses along the paths her fingers trailed.

“Not surprising. I already know how much you can stuff in that fucking mouth, doll.” Ben’s wide smirk is full of pride, and it causes her to giggle.

To make his point even clearer, his massive hands smooth down her sides and grip the globes of her ass, grinding her core against his proudly standing member. She mewls into the crook of his neck when she feels how fucking hard he is already. He lets out a grunt that carries the same desperate need to be inside of her as two of his thick fingers delve into her tight channel without much of a warning.

“Fucking drenched,” he mutters appreciatively as she arches her back with another moan on top of him. His free hand winds itself in her hair, giving it a slight tug that parts her lips with a pleasurable hiss as he drags her closer to his face. His amusement doesn’t fade, though, nor do his fingers in her pussy as he works her into a frenzy. “Sure you’re ready enough for the big guns, baby girl?”

She giggles breathily at his relentless teasing. “I’m literally about to come any second now,” she replies, soon followed by a harsh bite of her lip when his calloused thumb finds her clit. “Fuck…”

“Oh, I don’t think you fucking are.” Ben smirks and withdraws his fingers from her heat in the same breath. He laughs a little when she falls against his chest with a whimper of real loss.

Her hand finds his length between their burning bodies and wraps around it, already dragging his tip through her dripping folds. But Ben only entertains her plans for a second before snatching her wrist and pulling her away from him.

She whines this time and looks up at him. “Dear God, what do you want?” A laugh rumbles through his chest at the exasperation on her face. “I’ll do anything you want, anywhere you want. Just tell me. What’s Soldier Boy’s deepest, darkest fantasy, huh?”

Ben knows she’s teasing him, and a smile of amusement twitches on his lips, but a part of him actually seriously considers her question.

“What?” Her brow knits curiously as she observes the contemplative purse of his pillowy lips. “It’s okay. You can tell me,” she assures him and grins cheekily. “How fucking dirty is it?”

Ben swipes his tongue over his teeth and subtly swallows the lump in the back of his throat. He doesn’t reply instantly, however, pulling her ear to his lips as he whispers his little wish.

When he’s done, she blinks at him in surprise (and a hint of amusement). She certainly hasn’t expected that, but she places a loving kiss on his lips. The asshole can be charmingly sweet once in a blue moon.

“You sure about that?” she checks, but her tone is more than a little teasing. “There’s a lot of kinks to pick from.”

“Why does your generation always have to label fucking everything? It’s fucking sex. That’s it.” He huffs a bit too defensively, and she tries her best to muzzle her laugh. “What’s fucking wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” she assures him, giggling, and tries to soothe the furious lines of offense on his brow with little kisses. “It’s just surprising. It’s usually what super-old, married couples do.”

“Well, there you go,” he retorts. “I’m super fucking old and married. You’re gonna keep fucking chit-chatting or are you gonna do it now?”

“Fine, I’ll make love to you,” she relents with a smirk as she voices his little secret out loud.

“Jesus fuck!” He throws his head back into the pillow with a theatric eye roll.

His patience has run out. He grabs her fast and rough and flips them both over in a blink of an eye, her back landing in the plush mattress with a bubble of giggles. His weight presses down on her and deliciously threatens to squeeze the air from her lungs.

“Let me show you how it’s fucking done, my love,” Ben says with a cocky smile and begins to ravage a path of destruction down her throat. She’s sure she’ll be more colorful than a rainbow in the morning.

His teeth nib on her skin, hands pawing at the only clothing item that still covers her body from him, soon tearing the shirt over her head. His mouth stops attacking her clavicle then, green eyes focusing on her tits with a rising smirk.

“There’s my girls. Daddy’s home…”

Before she can even reply with a laugh at his comment, his mouth is swallowing her left tit, tongue roughly swirling over her nipple till it peaks against his wet muscle. She moans and arches off the mattress when his other hand massages, palms, and squeezes her other breast with the same fervent hunger.

Her hands find purchase on his strong upper arms, bicep flexing underneath her pads. His mouth devoutly licks lower and lower down her belly. She can feel his smirk rise against her skin the further he travels before his tongue dives straight into her folds.

“Fuck!” Her hips instantly buck forward, everything below her belly button clenching at the welcome intrusion.

And God, that man is skilled when it comes to sex. If he takes nothing else in his life seriously, this is his goddamn Olympics. He always gives it his all, just aiming for that gold medal over and over again.

It’s why she honestly forgives him for most of the shit he does or says, and she’s pretty sure he knows it, too.

His arms wrap around her thighs and pull her even closer against his sinful mouth. Her ankles cross behind his head, calves resting on those broad shoulders that seem to be made just for that purpose. Her toes tease his scalp, scratch the back of his head that cause little groans of his against her center that sound both submissive and primal, as if it's the most natural thing to give his everything to her.

His nose deliciously rubs her clit, and then the bastard fucking inhales and sucks the air right out of her when his lips seal around her bundle of nerves. She cries out his name, her cunt clenching with aching emptiness.

“Don’t worry. I know what you need,” Ben hums against her mound and shoves two thick fingers into her wet channel. “So fucking tight. You think you can take three? It’s been a while. Gotta get you into shape again…”

Fucking Olympics.

His digits then pump her so purposefully, mouth sucking her so religiously, she soon soars so fucking high she can see fucking Cupid himself. Her head falls back into the clouds when that fucking arrow hits, and she falls apart under his binding spell.

She thinks she might have passed out there for a second or two. When she steals a glance south, he still works her zealously through her glorious high as her pussy grips his fingers so tight she’s baffled they don’t break.

If she still had been a supe, they would’ve have.

And my God, she knows Ben’s never wasteful, not with his drugs nor with her arousal, but the way his tongue cleans her and licks his own fingers reaches a new level of obscenity she hasn’t witnessed before.

He acts like he’s been fucking parched for decades, and her juices are the elixir of life.

Then, when there's not a drop left to drink, and only then, does he decide to resurface with the laziest and proudest fucking smirk she’s ever seen. He leans so close to her face their foreheads touch, and she can smell her own scent in his glistening beard before he makes her taste herself, too.

“You’re still the same shithead.” She smirks breathlessly, her tits heaving as she breaks from the kiss. His chuckles fill her soul. She cards her fingers through his beard and brushes the hair back that falls into his mesmerizingly green eyes. “You’re gonna make love to me now?”

A smile widens on his plump and swollen lips, even at the hint of teasing in her voice, but he doesn’t respond with words, only nods and claims her lips in a blazing kiss. He angles his hips between her thighs then and spreads her legs further apart as they secure around his middle.

His lips leave hers and force her eyes open, staring straight into his. There’s an abundance of devotion and love in the lush greens that fill her heart. He makes her fucking feel it – every goddamn thing she is to him.

She feels his love when their fingers interlace and he pins them above her head. She feels his dedication with every thick, long inch he pushes inside of her. And she feels his fucking loyalty with each deliberate stroke.

He doesn’t rush, even keeps the dirty talk to a minimum. This is just for her.

It’s his fucking Olympics.

But most of all, she sees their vows shimmering in his eyes and knows he’ll never fucking break them.

“I love you,” she moans breathily into his ear, wounding herself tighter around him. She’s fucking close, ready for that next arrow with his name on it to pierce right through her heart.

He smirks a little in response, like he’s been waiting to hear it first. “Trust me. I fucking love you more,” he says, voice husky and thick with love. He emphasizes his promise with a snap of his hips, driving his cock right against her cervix. “Gonna pump a full fucking load deep into that little pussy till you’re fucking knocked up with a whole litter.”

Fucking shit. That should not turn her on as much as it does, but it’s hard to goddamn deny it when she comes right then and there as soon as he’s finished that filthy sentence.

“That’s it. Fucking milk my cock,” Ben rasps into her ear and feels his balls tighten when her pussy quakes around his shaft. “Like a fucking faucet,” he murmurs appreciatively and sucks marks into her neck. He’s missed making her his work of art, too.

When he spills his seed into her, hot and raw, he ensures their eye contact never breaks. He wants her to see what she’s fucking doing to him, how he falls apart just for her, too.

Two months later…

“What the fuck is taking you so long?” Ben stretches his neck and tries to peer into the kitchen. He begrudgingly eyes the green, glittery party hat on the dining table in front of him. “‘M not putting the fucking hat on, by the way.”

“Dude, you think it’s fucking easy lighting 108 candles on a fucking cake?” she retorts from the kitchen with a bit of bite before she strolls out with a sort of wonky buttercream cake, but the smile on her face is even brighter than the million candles.

“There’s no fucking way you put 108 candles on there,” Ben scoffs and grumpily crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back with a creak in his chair.

He’s been a bit of a party pooper all day. It also didn’t help when their son pointed that out at breakfast.

However, Ben probably shouldn’t have replied with: “Yeah, you would be too if your wife said no to blow.”

And yup, you bet your ass he woke her up bright and early in the morning, requesting she’d lick the snow off his dick. He’d termed it a super blow job and was rather disappointed when she'd declined.

“No, but I managed to get 53 on there, so it’s an A for effort,” she replies patiently. God, she needs so much fucking patience every day, but especially today.

“What fucking hippie school did you go to, huh?” Ben huffs and only encounters an annoyed frown when he looks at her.

“Blow out your fucking candles and make your wish, caveman,” she orders him dryly.

With a pissy eye roll, he does, puffing the life out of each little flame. “Are we fucking done with this now?”

Just then, the oven timer goes off, and Y/N straightens in the seat across from him.

“Uh, almost,” she says. “Got something in the oven. Can you check?”

“It’s my fucking birthday. How about you check yourself?” he retorts like a fucking princess.

“Ben, c’mon, I just spent six hours in the kitchen, baking you that cake,” she argues.

“Surprising it took six hours for this fucking thing,” Ben mutters, and she’s about to goddamn choke him.

Patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue…

“Baby, please, my feet hurt really bad.” She pouts, and he finally gets up with a deep sigh. She smiles wickedly.

“The oven isn’t even fucking on!” Ben yells soon from the kitchen. “And there’s nothing fucking inside!”

“Are you sure?” she acts as best as she can. “I thought I put something on the baking sheet.”

She listens to the clattering metal before a beat of silence follows. She’s sure his brows are densely knit in confusion (and frustration) at this point.

“What the fuck is this? Why would you put a fucking plastic stick in there?” The question finishes when he returns to the dining room, a small, white stick still in hand. He then holds it to his nose. “Why the fuck does it smell like piss?”

“Because I fucking peed on it,” she responds but sees he’s still not fully catching on.

“Ew! Why the fuck would you put that in the fucking oven?!” His brow furrows so comically she tries her hardest to stifle her laughter.

God, she hopes the kid gets her brains.

“Why is there a fucking smiley on it?”

“Because you’re supposed to be fucking happy, you moron,” she says.

“Why would I be fucking happy over a piss stick? Not exactly the fucking Rolex I wanted, is it?”

“Ben.”

His green eyes narrow at her and then blink. “Wait…”

“Yup.”

“Are you–“

“Yup.”

The stick in his hand drops to the floor before he scoops her up into his arms so fast she feels slightly dizzy from the motion. Happily, her legs wrap around his waist and arms lock behind his neck. She kisses him deeply, and he kisses her back with the same passionate devotion.

He squeezes his eyes shut a little tighter, forcing the tears to stay in, but she can still see the remnants of them when she draws back from his lips.

“I’m pregnant,” she says in case he still needed the verbal confirmation.

“Best fucking birthday ever,” he replies, swallowing the fucking lump in his dry throat.

She grins mischievously. “Told you it would be a good one, but no super blow jobs for a while.”

He snorts a chuckle. “Got it. I’ll take the regular ones, too.”

Ben once used to hate everything, his heart, much like the Grinch’s, a few sizes too small for anything else. But now, there’s barely enough space in his chest to contain it all. These days, he certainly considers himself a lover of all things life has to fucking offer.

The End 💕

Didn't I fucking say I would fix it?! Well, there ya go! Sid and Nancy got a happy end 🌅❣️

Do you guys think Ben wished for a baby or a fucking Rolex when he blew out those candles? 😂

(@zepskies 💜 – Not sure you remember this, but you sent me this ask for Dirty Drabbles about a year ago lol: What if Ben's girlfriend/wife/partner agrees to help fulfill one of his dirty fantasies. She's fully prepared for it to be insane (a la Ben), but what he requests is actually something surprisingly sweet (in its own way lol) And I immediately had this for this miniseries in mind! It fit those two perfectly!! 🥰🫶)

🩵 Tag List

☕️ Ko-Fi

💭 Talk Dirty to Me

TAGS:

Forevers: @alwaystiredandconfused @lyarr24 @supernotnatural2005 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

@thebiggerbear @star-yawnznn @thej2report @misatxox @spnaquakindgdom

@americanvenom13 @lamentationsofalonelypotato

Soldier Boy: @deans-baby-momma @snowayumi

Rehab Series: @nancymcl @sparkydonugh

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

my gf got me such a cute and sweet valentines gift bwah <333

[beartes22]

Season 2 Jayce with season 1 Viktor this, beard Jayce with young Viktor that….fools, all of you. I raise you, season 2 arc 2 Viktor and season 1 Jayce.

[thisisadonaldduckblognow]

ik it’s probably a classic case of extrapolating way too much but... the way raph’s character design lines up w his whole arc and role and struggles...

like the fact that he is so so so much bigger than the others. raph is big, raph is strong, raph is steady and sturdy and he can literally pick up his entire family and carry them all at once. 

and like, when raph is so big and so strong and such a reliable thing. when raph is the protector, the one calling the shots on missions, the mother hen, the first point of authority. when raph is there, overprotective, when raph (for all that his brothers poke at him not being good under pressure) always always ALWAYS comes through at the end of the day when things are serious, ALWAYS gives it everything he’s got. 

his design and his learned role/behaviors in this family are just the perfect storm of why it took up to the season finale to drive home the issue.

so much of the series carries the default energy of “raph will handle it.”

raph will hold up the ceiling above you. raph will throw himself over you and take a hit and get back up and keep fighting. raph has a power that makes him even bigger and draws more attention and makes him able to carry MORE. raph will be the substitute parent. raph will be put into the mentor role through leo’s leadership arc. 

and raph is big. he’s built to carry heavy loads. raph is strong. raph is bold and loud and always ready to try to push on. even if he doesn’t know what to do or what he’s doing, he won’t give up and we’ll all pull together and things will turn out okay.

(his room is full of teddy bears. he dipped out on a mission to try to take a picture of a pigeon carrying a slice of pizza. he’s terrified of being alone.

he’s just as much of a kid as his brothers are. he’s just as new and inexperienced with the things happening to them as his brothers are. but for him, for some reason, there’s like this double standard where that becomes a huge glaring flaw.)

idk this got very sloppy and uncoordinated. i’m very in my feelings about raph right now though.

[itsmistyeyedbi]

Currently playing the lt route (book 2) with Zuri, and she's trying so hard to be logical and practical when having to choose between Adam and Nate because doing it any other way makes her feel extremely guilty.

○

She goes to see the fortune teller with Adam, but he seems really off after being in there so she goes to the house of mirrors with Nate. But then that goes south quickly and he's gotta be out of it after having his past play out in front of him, so when the maalused break into her apartment she calls Adam.

○

But considering who these two are, Adam's reasons for being around her are going to sound more pratical than Nate's. So even though that's safer and the option she's more likely to go with (in these circumstances), she really wants people to want to be around her because they enjoy it, and Nate makes it obvious that that's the case for him.

Long story short, she's not having a good time lol. For a good while, the scale is not gonna be balanced. She'll spend more time with one than the other, then run to the other if she gets any sign that there's deeper feelings there. Until Farah makes it obvious that she knows what's up - then Zuri will balance out that scale in hopes of making it less obvious💀