#as of right now this moment I am simply. too fucking tired to do that

[youngpettyqueen]

wrote something unbearably fluffy and I will be posting it on ao3 tomorrow but I wanted to do something a lil different and post it here. this is because I dont have the energy to do the format editing for ao3 rn but I want people to see it right now immediately

garashir, post-canon Cardassia, short and sweet, fluff that will rot your teeth out. enjoy <3

“Elim?” 

Gentle hands resting on his shoulders rouse Garak from a sleep he didn’t even realize he’d fallen into. He jerks awake with a rather undignified snort, more startled than he’d care to admit as he straightens himself up in his chair. Falling asleep at his desk… he really is getting sloppy.

Those hands squeeze his shoulders gently. He would know that touch anywhere.

“Only me, love,” Julian’s voice murmurs, soft and reassuring, “Didn’t mean to startle you.” 

Garak glances back over his shoulder, wincing slightly at the kink that’s developed in his neck from his awkward sleeping position. “You’ll have to forgive me, my dear,” He replies, offering Julian a tired smile, “I seem to have lost track of the time.”

He takes a moment to give Julian a quick once-over, his eyes heavy with sleep but no less sharp. He looks dishevelled, his hair a mess of loose curls and his jaw lined with a shadow of stubble. He doesn’t have any visible injuries, and his uniform is rumpled, but intact. So today was long, but likely not life-threatening. Good. He’d been worried, before he went and passed out.

Julian smiles back at him, a warm expression, though very tired. The lines under his eyes are deep. “I’ll forgive you, if you forgive me for being so late,” He offers, gently rubbing Garak’s shoulders, “Sorry to have kept you waiting. I was drafting requests for more medical equipment, and lost track of time myself.” He explains.

“How could I ever fault you for such a noble endeavour?” Garak asks, leaning back into Julian’s hands, which are doing wonders for what’s become a permanent stiffness in his shoulders, “I’m sure the staff appreciate your efforts.” His doctor has done marvellously, adapting to working in a Cardassian hospital. It took a couple of crisis situations before the rest of the staff finally took him seriously, but he’s managed to find a place for himself with minimal friction, as far as the hospital staff are concerned. Usually a Human would never have been accepted so quickly, but these are desperate times, and they can seldom afford to turn away such a capable pair of hands. 

“They’ll appreciate it when I actually get the equipment,” Julian replies. He works his thumbs into a knot at the base of Garak’s neck, and Garak all but melts against him, a pleased sound rumbling low in his chest, “Dare I ask what you’re doing with Kukalaka?” 

The question snaps Garak out of his pleased little trance. He glances back at his desk and finds that the bear is, in fact, sitting there, a needle still attached to thread hanging loose from his leg, which is half-sewn to his body. “Ah,” He says, now recalling what he was doing before sleep so unceremoniously claimed him, “Yes, that… well, I was rather hoping to surprise you with that tomorrow…” He hums, feeling a flash of annoyance at his plans being thwarted. 

Julian leans over his shoulder, examining his handiwork. “Oh, Elim…” He murmurs, like Garak has just handed him the world, “You wonderful, wonderful man. You really are too good to me.” He wraps his arms loosely around Garak’s neck, rests his weight against him as he presses his warm cheek to the side of his head.

It never ceases to amaze Garak, just how easy it is to make Julian’s day. The smallest acts have him behaving as if Garak has put the suns in the sky just for him. “Hardly,” He refutes, because he could never be too good for the man who reminds him days after day that good exists in this universe simply by existing, “You may have convinced the little ruffian’s mother that you weren’t upset over Kukalaka being torn asunder, but I know you far better than that. I may not understand the significance of the little fellow, but I would be remiss if I allowed him to remain in tatters when I could easily repair him.” He reasons, and it’s an awfully long way to say I hate to see you sad.

“That little ruffian was all of 3 years old,” Julian points out, a smile in his voice, “And teething, might I add, so understandably cranky. But… thank you,” A warm kiss is pressed to Garak’s cheek, an action that turns him into a puddle of bliss and affection, “I would tell you just how much it means to me, but I’m afraid I’m much too tired to adequately express myself.” He kisses Garak’s cheek again, and nuzzles against him.

Garak hums happily, reaching up to rest a hand on Julian’s arm. “Oh, I don’t know,” He muses, rubbing circles into Julian’s arm with his thumb, “I believe I could infer the depths of your gratitude from, say… more kisses.” He suggests, tilting his head so that he can flash Julian a cheeky grin. 

Julian snorts, buries his face in Garak’s neck as laughter shakes his slender shoulders. When he lifts his head again, he has the loveliest smile lines on his rosy-cheeked face, and the lines under his eyes don’t seem quite so deep anymore. 

“You’re incorrigible.” Julian tells him, earnestly and completely affectionate. 

“Yes,” Garak agrees, “And I do believe you love me for it.” 

“Oh, very much,” Julian agrees, leaning in till his nose taps against Garak’s, “It’s one of your most endearing traits.” 

Garak rubs their noses together, a gesture that is indescribably affectionate and also quite silly. “Tell me again about all those endearing traits of mine?” He requests.

“I’m far too tired for that,” Julian replies, his eyes flicking to Garak’s lips, “I think I’d much rather kiss you silly. Is that an acceptable substitute?” He asks. 

Garak doesn’t respond verbally, just angles his head and pushes up to capture Julian’s lips with his. Julian makes a happy little hum as he kisses him back, and his smile as he presses his lips to Garak’s again and again says more about his gratitude and his love than any string of words ever could. 

[jov1ii]

Home.

♡⃕.pairing: The Salesman x Reader

♡⃕.summary: The man you had known for way before, before he 'ruined' your life, the one you were so determined to find, pays you a visit.

♡⃕.word count: 1.5k+

♡⃕.a/n: This is my first time writing a "proper" fic and it did NOT turn out the way I wanted it to but ig we all start somewhere. I hope yall like it, thank you!! 😭 [not proofread]

Being the only surviour of what you considered no less than hell on earth, you should have been content, no? How could you be? After witnessing the death of so many people, people who you promised you would enjoy life with after escaping that game.

Call it greed, call it madness, whatever it was, it had people blinded in those games.

One would call you crazy if they saw how determined you were to put an end to the games you had played and survived.

Being already considered half crazy, if not a total gone case by your friends, you found it hard to even believe yourself at times. If it wasn't for the giant stack of money in the corner of your store room, maybe even Lei would have not trusted you.

There you were, sighing in defeat, another day spent, trying to search for the man who ruined your life by a game as stupid as ddajki. Fucking ddajki.

Throwing your phone over at the couch, you sat down next to Lei. With your face hidden now in the curve of your palms, you pondered upon the number of days left, the number of days which still remained unticked on the calendar.

You could not find it in yourself to give up so easily, no. You had been trying for years now, it was as if your life had a purpose.

"Did they find him?" Lei asked, placing a comforting hand on your back. She rubbed your back gently, wishing to offer you comfort. You remained quiet, allowing her to soothe you.

After a pause, you rested your head on her shoulder, seeking more of the warmth she was offering. "I... I am tired, Lei. I am so fucking tired."

Lei closed her eyes for a brief moment, allowing you to let your emotions flow as she pulled you into a hug. "It will be okay, all is well."

ㅤㅤ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ㅤ ㅤ‎⎯‎⎯‎⎯‎ㅤ🎟

͏

Drinking had never really been your thing and yet you found yourself standing right beside Lei, watching as she ordered drinks for the two of you.

"You come here often?" You ask, your wandering gaze landing back at her. Lei simply shrugged, offering you a smile. "Is three times a week often?" She chuckled.

As the hours passed and the two of you made your way out of the bar after spending an undoubtedly wholesome evening, you could not help but ponder upon the cold, almost commanding look that Lei offered to the bartender at one point.

The games had made you too paranoid, they had forced you to pay unwanted attention and overthink every little thing that happened around you. After seeing the countless betrayals before your very own eyes, who could blame you for behaving like that?

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Lei's voice brought you back to reality. "Oh... It's nothing." You said, looking back at her.

"It has to be something if it had you so deep in your thoughts, what is it?" Lei asked, demanding an answer.

"I said it's nothing. Come on, it is getting late, keep moving, Lei." You said, patting the skirt of your dress, refusing to meet her gaze.

"You do not trust me, do you?"

Oh. Your eyes finally met hers.

"Lei— what are you..."

Lei chuckled, shaking her head. "I love how easy it is to get you so... anxious. Of course I know you trust me, silly!" She laughed. "I earned it, didn't I?" After a brief pause, she added, "Let's get going, hm? It's getting late."

You nodded, moving ahead to look for a taxi for the two of you, blissfully unaware of the cold pair of eyes that stalked each and ever step you took.

ㅤㅤ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ㅤㅤ‎⎯‎⎯‎⎯‎ㅤ🎟

If there was one good thing remaining in your life, it would be night outs like these with Lei. They would usually end with Lei pulling dumb moves, flirting with strangers, enjoying her life and you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn't crave the life she has.

A life free from guilt, a life full of excitement and will to see and experience what the next day had to offer.

After looking at the numerous selfies sent by the people you had hired in hopes that at least one of them would succeed in catching the man that had plagued your thoughts, you could not help but groan in frustration.

Another fruitless search. You threw your phone away, closing your eyes as you thought of how your life used to be before all this happened.

A part of you hated yourself for yearning his touch, his caress. You had known for way longer than you would like to admit, he was kind, loving... or perhaps you were a fool.

It was funny how you still remembered each and every night when he took you to his home, when he fed you and held you in his arms when you cried about how bad your life was getting.

You trusted him with everything. Told him about how you managed to get all your hard earned money stolen by your own boyfriend. Sometimes felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself.

You trusted him when he told you to play a game of ddajki with him. You trusted him when he told you to give that number a call.

And now here you were, alive. With all the blood money in your pocket. You wish you had died there. You knew that he wished you had died too. You knew he was scared to meet you or so you liked to believed.

You knew that once you managed to get catch him, you would not let him leave without giving you any answers.

ㅤㅤ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ㅤㅤ‎⎯‎⎯‎⎯‎ㅤ ㅤ 🎟

"Why so silent, hm?"

Your throat felt as if it had closed when you saw him in your apartment, staring at the calendar.

"Missed me, angel?"

He chuckled, turning around. His cold, calculating eyes found your scared ones.

"Weren't you dying to meet me?" He asked, taking a step in your direction.

"I feel a bit— hm desired, knowing that the first thing my sweet girl thought of was searching for me instead of just letting her little brain rest a bit."

He laughed. "Most people would have taken the money and started a new life but here you are, still stuck. Typical." He said, offering a rather phoney smile.

"You expected me to move on?" You cry, feeling a sting in your throat.

"Oh please, save your tears." He said, his voice taking an irritated turn.

"Is this all a joke to you?! I trusted you— I trusted you so fucking much! You ruined my life!" You yelled.

"You agreed to play them. You called that number willingly."

"I was helpless and in need of money, you knew it! I had no idea of what I was getting into!" You yelled.

He didn't flinch, his face showed no emotion. As if her words had no effect on him. "Why do you still yearn for me, after all that happens, hm? I can see it in your fucking eyes." He spat out, taking a few long strides in your direction.

"You think I haven't been watching you?" He laughed hysterically. "Searching for me like your life depended on it..." He paused, tugging you closer as he pressed his forehead against yours. "So unaware of how I never left. "

His words irritated you. You hated how his words still had effect over you— after all that happened.

"You don't know anything." You whispered, your hands clenching into a tight fist and before you knew it, your hand was out to punch him, to take your frustration out.

"Ah, ah." In a sudden motion, he reaches out and grabs your wrist, his grip unyielding "Don't you think I deserve a better welcome?" He pouted.

"Let go, you bastard!" You yell and his hold around you tightens, enjoying your futile efforts futile struggle. "That stubborn spirit... it just makes me want to break you more." His voice drops dangerously low. "But don't worry, angel - I have ways of..." He pauses, staring into her eyes.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his warm breath ghosting across your skin. "...ways of making you beg for more." His free hand trails down your side, maintaining the pressure that keeps you trapped.

"I wonder how long it'll take for you to accept this as your new reality... As your new normal." He smiles to himself, a cold, calculating smile, before leaning down to capture your lips in a possessive kiss.

Before you could comprehend any of this properly, he was already making his way out of your apartment.

Leaving you once again, with just the warmth of his touch.

[hannieehaee]

Hi! I love your work I was hoping I could request something? this may be a little nsfw but I was wondering how SVT would react to having a girlfriend who likes to cockwarm them? like even after they’re done she just wants them to stay inside her like she could literally go to sleep like that. I just think it’d be interesting! you don’t have to do it though!

18+ / mdi

reaction to you liking to cockwarm them

content: afab reader, smut, cockwarming, mentions of riding, etc.

wc: 966

a/n: thank u for requesting!! i hope i did this justice <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

this wouldve become a common occurrence during his hiatus from seventeen. due to his injury, you'd have to ride him whenever the two of you wanted to have sex. at some point he wouldve dragged you back down as you moved to slip him out of you, pleading with his eyes to stay around him. would probably be unable to control himself and eventually try to fuck into you, not caring for the pain he'd bring himself.

jeonghan -

smirks to himself any time you whine at him when he goes to slip out of you after you're both done. the moment you showed any indication that you wanted to cockwarm him, he'd to squeeze your hips and feel up your ass and back rather than remove you. would entice you into another round after some time, hoping to create a vicious cycle in which he fucked you and you cockwarmed him, only for him to fuck you again.

joshua -

he'd wanna take care of you in any and every way, so if you were too sleepy after sex to get up from his cock, that simply meant you'd be going to sleep with his cock still buried deep inside you. it was a win-win situation for joshua. he'd have a restful sleep with the prettiest girl he'd ever held in his arms, and he'd probably get to fuck you just as the two of you woke up. there were no bad sides to the situation.

jun -

a little caught off guard the moment you simply pressed down against him after both your orgasms had subsided. regardless, he would understand you might be tired and just hold you as the two of you fell asleep. the next morning it would click that you'd slept literally wrapped around each other all through the night. that might've been one of his best sleeps ever, making him want to do it again and again.

soonyoung -

practically becomes hypnotized the moment you bring up cockwarming, now obsessed with the idea. he'd be so giddy every single time the two of you had sex right before going to bed, knowing he'd get to go to sleep while your arms held onto him and your pussy held onto his dick just as tightly. this would become his new favorite act of intimacy to do with you.

wonwoo -

would naturally happen one day in which you rode him while he was gaming. you'd both finish and you'd simply fall limp against him. after a few moments of no movement, he'd ask if you wanted to just stay sitting on his dick (not complaining! just wondering, he'd clarify). after your tired affirmation, he would smile and hold you closer, continuing to game but caressing your back every so often, adoring the intimacy of the situation.

jihoon -

it kills him every time you insist on letting him stay inside, face scrunching up in pleasure at the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him in such an intimate way. would insist that you can only do it for a little bit, knowing he'd probably cum the moment he grew hard again.

dokyeom -

would reluctantly agree, wanting nothing more than to be as close to you as possible, but knowing your cunt would overpower his senses at some point, which would probably make him beg you to fuck him in the middle of the night. the obvious would end up happening, making you ride him in the early hours of the am, only to cockwarm him again all the way into the morning.

mingyu -

he'd nod in agreement so fast his neck would hurt. holding you in his arms after sex? hell yes. being inside you as he held you in his arms as you fell asleep? nothing sounded better to him. would probably underestimate how pussydrunk he could get and beg to fuck you halfway through the night and then proceed to fall asleep buried deep inside you, only to fuck you again in the morning.

minghao -

he'd be a lil flustered at the bold way in which you simply tightened around him the moment he tried to slip out, wordlessly allowing you to lean against him as he stayed buried in you. would easily fall into the habit of you cockwarming him, now looking forward to that part of the day every single day. would feel most relaxed in those moments, feeling a level of intimacy with you he had never before.

vernon -

he'd insist you cockwarm him. after cumming you'd both probably be super spent and wanna rest, so he'd ask if it was okay for him to just stay in your cunt as the two of you cuddled and eventually fell asleep. this would prove to be a bit of a challenge, as the pulsing of your cunt and softness of your walls would probably take him a bit to get used to.

seungkwan -

he would also fall asleep right after sex, only waking up a few hours later to realize you were still wrapped around him as the two of you cuddled. his heart would swell at the warmth he felt both from your embrace and the tightness around him. he'd want this again and again, wordlessly begging you day after day to please give him your warmth as he slept.

chan -

he'd thank god under his breath as soon as you brought it up to him. he'd have wanted to try it out, knowing how warm and cozy it'd be to have you wrapped around him as he held you in his sleep, but he wasnt sure if you'd be into it. would probably underestimate how good itd feel, making him not realize how hard it was going to be to not fuck into you as you slept in his arms.

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 22

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21

1.6k words

While you absolutely needed summer clothes you got the feeling that Bira had something extra in mind. At least your husband seemed to like it!

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

--------

“Thanks for helping me with this” you said as Bira lead you through the busy streets.

“Of course! I’m not going to let you drop dead from the heat! I’m just happy Zen’jan waved me down to let me know” Bira responded.

It was quite a walk to the shop, tucked into a corner of the city that was mostly minotaurs, though Bira assured you several times her friend who owed the shop would be able to help.

“Hoonti!” Bira practically yelled as the two of you entered the shop.

The minotaur woman behind the counter looked and smiled, “Bira!” and the two quickly launched into an animated conversation in orcish.

“This is Hoonti, a long time friend of mine” Bira introduced, “and one of the best tailors I know. She’s going to take your measurements and ask a few questions and get started on making you a few things to start with”.

“Sounds good!” you answered.

Hoonti got right to work, buzzing about you with her measuring tape while Bira translated her questions.

“Any preferences for colors? Or any colors you absolutely don’t want?” Bira translated.

“Nothing too bright” you said.

“That’s no fun!” said Bira.

Bira was almost always in bright colors and clothes with fancy trim or details, though Zen always dressed pretty simply. He seemed to be the odd one out though, most of the trolls in the city seemed to be more like Bira with bright, highly detailed clothes and lots of jewelry. The closet thing to jewelry you ever saw Zen wear were the gold bands at the base of his tusks, though he had gotten you a few bracelets and necklaces.

“Okay okay okay, nothing too bright but let me pick one outfit for you, please!” Bira practically begged.

“One outfit” you repeated firmly.

“Just one! And I promise you’ll like it, and so will Zen’jan! It’ll make him happy”.

You raised an eyebrow at her.

“Don’t worry, it’s just something traditional but it needs to be bright! Just trust me” she said.

“Sure”.

Many rounds of questions later and Bira and you were leaving the shop with the promise that Hoonti would drop the clothes off in a few days when she was done.

“So, you and Zen’jan” Bira began.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“He seems a lot happier than usual recently”

You could not help but smile a bit over that. There had been a shift in Zen over the last week, he was more relaxed around the house and was comfortable taking up space. He sat and stood up straight, no longer always trying to make himself smaller, he lounged and stretched out across the bed, he constantly showed you little affections like a hand on your shoulder or waist for a moment when he walked past or a quick nuzzle where he could.

“It’s been a good week” you smiled.

“Well, it’s good to hear that. He’s been doing better in general since you got married, he doesn’t look so tired and drained all the time anymore. He’s never been the best at taking care of himself, though it looks like he’s getting better about it though now that he has someone else to take care of”.

Bira showed you a few more of her favorite places around the city before walking you home.

“I’m happy he has you” Bira told you as she hugged you.

“I’m happy I have him too” you told her.

Three days later Bira and Hoonti showed up in the middle of the day laden with new clothes for you. Skirts, pants, shirts, and dresses of varying lengths, colors, and styles and much better suited for the weather than anything you brought.

They both fawned over you while you tried stuff on, it felt silly with how they fussed over you, but it was still fun.

“Ok ok, last one!” Bira called and handed you the last outfit.

It was several pieces all in a rich shade of red and trimmed with shiny gold embroidery and pearls.

“And I’m guessing this is what you were so excited about?” you asked.

“Just try it on!” she was so excited.

You ducked back into the bathroom to untangle the pieces; a pair of shorts, a wide rectangle of fabric with the beautiful embroidery on one long edge, and a longer thinner rectangle of fabric with the same embroidery in the center of one of the long edges.

“I’m going to need an explanation” you called from the bathroom.

“Shorts on, the wide rectangle ties over the shorts as a skirt, and just wrap the other around you and I’ll help”.

The shorts were shorter than you would have liked, the skirt came down to your mid thighs but because it was tied together it left quite a slit up the side where you tied it on you hip. You wrapped the other piece around you and shuffled out of the bathroom feeling rather exposed.

“Really?” you asked Bira.

“Yes! You’ve seen me in stuff like this! Don’t act so surprised!”

She helped you with the top, wrapping it behind your back and crossing it over your chest and tying it behind your neck. It left your midriff bare, but much to you surprise it at least covered a good amount of your chest.

“Absolutely perfect” Bira smiled.

“Its short” you muttered back.

“It’s good for hot weather, and for dancing! There’s a few festivals coming up that it’s perfect for. And I bet Zen’jan will like it, you should keep it on for when he gets home”.

You chatted with Bira and Hoonti for a while before both left to go about their day. You had to admit you had a lot of movement freedom in the outfit, and while it showed off a lot more than you were used to it was comfy and did look good.

Zen came home later that afternoon, in the last week he had been coming home earlier.

“I hope you do not mind, I stopped by the market in my way home and just picked up- wow” he paused when he saw you.

“It’s looks alright?” you asked.

“More than alright, you look incredible” he sat the food down and crossed the room, quickly placing his hands on your hips while he took a moment to take you in.

“Bira said it would be a good outfit for some festivals coming up”.

“It is, though now I am going to have to actually dress up for festivals to keep up with you” he pulled you closer until you were pressed against him and you could feel him purring.

You could also feel him hard against you. The two of you had been bathing together and sleeping naked, though both of you chose to ignore anything other than cuddling for now.

Zen was breathing hard and you could feel his heart racing being so close to him. He leaned down and nuzzled his forehead against yours before pulling you into deep kiss, wasting no time parting you lips and slipping his tongue into your mouth.

It caught you off guard. Zen never initiated anything, he always carefully waited for you to lean into him to cuddle, or for you to kiss him first. His grip on your hips tightened and you felt him grinding against you, felt the way he panted and moaned into your mouth, how his whole body heaved with every breath.

By the time he pulled away you were breathing just as hard, your heart racing while you looked up at him.

“I am sorry” he muttered, “Was that alright?”

You did not answer, instead you tangled your hands into hair and pulled him back in for another kiss. This time you pressed yourself against him and pulled him close just as much as he did to you. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and ran it along the base of his tusks before pulling back a bit and letting him lead again. His tongue nearly filled your mouth and you happily teased him by sucking on his tongue a bit.

Kissing him was never an elegant affair. His tusks always bumped the sides on your face and you also could not tilt your head at the right angle while you were wedged between them. Then mismatch in size between the two of you meant his mouth always entirely covered yours in an odd way, and it all added up to some rather wet, clumsy, and messy kissing but neither of you minded.

His hand drifted lower, cupping your backside and pulling you to rub against him, leaving an ache between your legs. Besides the night you had gotten drunk together, he had not so much as even hinted at anything more than cuddling, his sudden forward was was a bit odd but not unwelcome.

You pulled away from the kiss, “So, formal wear does it for you?” you teased, though at that moment he had also chosen to nudge your legs apart and press his thigh up against your center, making you collapse forward against his chest and let out a soft moan.

“When I come home and my beautiful wife is all dressed up for me it does” his voice was low in your ear and you could hear the need dripping from it. “And as beautiful as you look all dressed up for me, right now all I can think about is helping you out of it all, if you will let me”.

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Part 23

Tag list

@blushycadaver @hazyspacefairy @littlelovebug98 @tufflepuff23 @graveblanketgreen @krayziee

[pookietv]

silly and trivial | arthurtv

i am usually awful at writing arguments but trying it out to hopefully get better! (but because deep down i'm a softie, all ends well)

george alt of the same scenario will come soon!!

arguments were no ones favourite thing, that was obvious.

but being stood in a stand off with arthur over something so simply resolved, so trivial as whose turn it was to do the fucking washing? you two had gone into some frenzy.

entering your shared apartment to dishes not being done was about the last thing you had needed on this particularly shitty day, and walking into your kitchen to see the grown pile, you raised a frustrated eyebrow at arthur.

"what?" he asked, his tone not too moody but definitely with a certain tone to it.

"you haven't done the dishes, still," you said, voice quiet but with a slight tinge of accusatory remark.

"you're being a tad dramatic, it's a couple of days worth," he rolled his eyes slightly, looking you in the eyes for a moment, his hair slightly messy and his stubble a little overgrown. you had both been overworked, that much was obvious.

"arthur i'm just sick of being the only one doing it! you literally have not done a load of washing in fucking weeks," you said frustratedly, your hands slipped in your own hair and fighting the urge to tear it from your head.

you both knew this wasn't really about washing - you hadn't seen eachother much, you had both been busy and tired and not enough communication had happened, which led to this - a cut throat argument about dirty dishes.

"i've barely been here! you're overreacting here, stop being ridiculous!" arthur bit back, and your eyes narrowed a little.

"oh, i'm overreacting? how am i possibly supposed to cook for us when there's nothing here!" you said, swallowing slightly, biting the inside of your cheek gently

"i've been busy! it's not easy to juggle everything you know," he paused, breath slightly bated, "look, we can just order in tonight an-" he said, before you cut him off with a wave of argument.

"we've ordered in four nights this week already, arthur. you're trying to temp fix a bigger issue here - i just want to be able to come home and cook the meal i planned to cook, without having to worry about if you have pulled your weight around the house!" you said, your lip slightly curled into a pouted snarl.

arthur hissed back, "you're being fucking ridiculous, it's dishes! stop being so fucking stubborn," he said, his voice raised louder than either of you had spoke this argument - sure, you were being bitchy and petty to each other, but his pointed and raised voice made your eyes widen a little and your head turning to the ground, biting a lip to try and stop your eyes from going misty, you hadn't heard that tone from arthur, ever. he was the most gentle and considerate guy you knew, so to hear such a asserted and snappy thing from him stung that little bit more.

hearing a slight gasp from him, like even he was surprised he had snapped at you like that, he stepped a little closer, "listen, i-i didn't me-"

"don't start shouting at me," you murmured, cutting him off. "i'm gonna go in the shower."

arthur's eyes widened a little "please don't walk away, i was being a dick, didn't mean to snap, sweetheart, i jus-"

"i just wanna go in the shower right now," you said, turning your heel slightly to try and hide your face, clearly betraying the hurt as you heard arthur sigh to himself as you left the room, the bathroom door signalling you were gone.

once you were in the bathroom, you instantly turned the shower on, the steam filling the room as you allowed your eyes to go slightly clouded, wiping them off with the sleeve of your shirt. you had no intentions to shower, but you just needed five minutes to gather yourself and not let arthur see you cry.

you felt so silly, was this something you should be crying over? sure, he snapped and he was being unkind, but you felt so childish, crying because you got shouted at.

after a couple minutes, you heard a soft knock on the door, before a more mellowed arthur, his voice soft and dejected, completely contrasted from before, "lovie? please, can hear you're upset from out here. i didn't mean to snap, i'm sorry, that was completely my fault. fighting with you is the last thing i want, i swear. i think we're just arguing 'cause we've been so busy lately, barely seen each other. we can sit down and have a talk about chores, if thats what you need. i don't want to make things harder for you, i'm supposed to make them easier, to help you." you heard him drabble on, and once he paused to take a breath, you cracked open the door slowly, facing him with a slightly red face, tears wiped from your face and a softened but still hurt expression.

"c'mere, i'm sorry," he said, arms wrapping around you easily, one hand going to the back of your head and stroking gently, "i was being a dick,"

you let out a slight soft laugh into his jumper, still a little sniffly, "i probably didn't help, i was being a bitch about something so trivial,"

"no, you're right, i haven't helped enough," he said gently.

you pulled slightly away from him for a moment, "think you're right, we were just getting snappy and short 'cause we're both tired, and have barely seen each other, seems silly 'cause we live together but we've seen each other without really seeing each other for a while, you know?" you said softly, and he nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"i know what you mean. what would you rather do, we can order in or if you'd rather cook the pasta you've been craving i'll do the dishes now and we can cook together and chill out?" he offered gently, and you tilted your head a little.

"i can make the pasta. we haven't ate a proper meal together in a while." you said with a soft smile, "you wash and i'll dry?" you offered, and he nodded his head reassuringly.

[lionneee]

Little Princess

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: taking of sexual themes, drinking, smoking, smut, age difference.•

Previous part <- Current part

Modern!Father’s!Best!Friend!Aemond x Fem!Reader

Aemond didn’t know why he did that.

He also didn’t expect to feel such a bastard for turning you down for your own good.

He sighed and rubbed his temple as he took another sip of his bourbon.

He was tired.

He groaned loudly as he heard the doorbell ring, and he got out of his office to see who was here to annoy him.

He took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Please don’t be here again.

“Alys.” His voice was a grunt of surprise, his expression pure annoyance. “If you’re here to fuck, it won’t happen.”

He grunted as he turned his back at her and walked deeper in the house, leaving the door open for her.

“I’m not here for that. We’ve already done it after breaking up.” She smirked at her own teasing as she followed him inside. “I’m here to talk.”

“Not in the mood for that too.” He said as he grabbed another glass, and filled it with some other alcohol.

He didn’t even care what he drank, he didn’t even look.

It could have been bleach and he would have been fine with that.

“You messed up.” She stated as she moved closer, grabbing the same bottle he poured and read the label. “And since you’re drinking when it’s ten in the morning, I suppose you don’t even know how to fix it.” She put down the bottle and walked to his couch, sitting down and lighting herself a cigarette.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He hummed as he took another sip of his drink, the alcohol burning his throat, but he accepted the pain like it was his medicine. “And I’ve already fixed it.” He added, looking back at her.

She raised her pack of cigarettes and he sighed, taking one.

“You think that rejecting the daughter of your best friend after fucking her in secret will fix it?” She raised her eyebrow, looking at his deliveshed appearance as she took a puff of her cigarette.

Messy air, like someone that had passed his hands in them too much, and some sweater suit, that she knew he reserved only for moments when he felt like disappearing from the world.

“I think I have less problems now.” He said as he smoked.

“Do you?”

“Why are you here, Alys?” He sighed, feeling more annoyed than anything. She pressed her lips together and turned her head to the side.

“Me and Criston are together.” She said.

Aemond looked at her.

Her and Criston.

He couldn’t help but start laughing.

It was ridiculous just the idea, they were too different.

She cared too much about appearance, and looking perfect, too active in the nights for Criston.

Criston just wanted to settle and relax.

Criston just wanted to raise his daughter with Dayana, and have a happy life.

Aemond rubbed his temples with his fingers as he felt a headache coming just at the thought of how he fucked up his life.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Alys hissed at him, turning her eyes back at him.

“Yeah, well, you knew how I was when you fell in love with me.” He answered back, looking up at her.

She clenched her jaw and stood up, fixing her skirt, as Aemond simply watched her.

“You know losing an eye doesn’t give you the right to be a bastard your whole life, right?”

Aemond glared daggers at her, but she simply stared back, then she walked out of his house.

Aemond walked in the kitchen and threw the cigarette in the sink, then clenched his hands into fists, so much that the glass broke in his hand, cutting his skin.

He hissed in pain and opened his hand, letting the shards of the glass fall in the sink.

“Fuck.”

You kept jumping your leg up and down nervously as you sat at the table with your father.

“I never wanted to disappoint you.” You sobbed. “I swear, dad, I love you! I-I am so grateful for everything you gave me, the life you provided me-“ You stopped yourself as you sobbed. “I never wanted to hurt you.” You bit your lip as you looked at your father, as he clasped his hands together over the table.

“I know, kid, I know.” He sighed. “It was…” He looked away for a moment, shaking his head. “Terrifying, seeing you in your bed with… with Aemond.” He growled his name.

Even hearing his name pained you.

“I-I thought…” You took a deep breath. “I thought we loved each other.” You looked away too. “It was stupid.” You said then, realizing how lame it sounded.

“It’s not stupid to love someone, kid.” Your father said firmly, slowly, making sure you would understand his words. 

“Its stupid to love Aemond.” She said, looking up at him. 

The side of your fathers mouth twitched, an amused smile spreading on his face.

“Yeah, don’t tell me about it. He’s my best friend, remember?” He humoured. You smiled too, nodding.

“Yeah, I remember.” You leaned forward on the table, looking back at him. “Do you forgive me?” You asked with a trembling voice, looking at him, your eyes full of hope and regret.

“I do, kid.” He leaned forward too, covering your hands with his. “I… I have something to tell you too…” He admitted.

You furrowed your brows, curious of what he had to say.

“You killed my cactus?” You smiled, making him chuckle.

“No, no, even if sometimes I think it moves on itself only to sting me.” He sighed with a smile.

“No, it’s about me… and Alys.” He said, looking closely at your reaction.

“Alys?” A shiver ran down your body, jealousy spreading in your chest as you remembered when Aemond brought her home.

“Yes, me and her…” He blushed a bit as he tried to contain a bigger smile. “We are… a couple. I like her a lot.”

“What?” You were stunned. “I-I thought… she and Aemond had… something.” You stuttered.

“No, I mean, yes, but it was a long time ago.” He squeezed her hands. “It happened so suddenly, I wasn’t even looking for someone… After your mother, I thought I would never know love again.” He smiled to himself. “But she… she is beautiful, strong, independent and beautiful…”

“Yeah, you said that.” You smiled and your father chuckled. “It’s okay dad. I’m happy if you’re happy.” You nodded and he smiled at you.

“Come here, kid.” He stood up and walked to you, you quickly stood as well too, melting in his embrace, snuggling your face in his chest.

“I love you.” He kissed the top of your head.

“I love you too.”

Aemond stood by the window after Alys left, his mind spiraling back to the chaos he had caused. He had thought pushing you away would save everyone pain, but he felt emptier than ever. Criston had warned him, time and again, that you were off-limits, that messing with his best friend’s daughter would only lead to disaster. Yet Aemond hadn’t listened.

His phone buzzed on the counter. Hesitant, he picked it up and saw Criston’s name flash across the screen. The message was brief but filled with fury:

«We need to talk. Now.»

Aemond knew this conversation had been brewing since the moment he’d crossed that line with you. There was no more avoiding it. He slipped on a jacket and left the house, the knot in his chest tightening with every step towards the bar where he, Criston and Dyana would spend most of their evenings and nights when they were young.

When he arrived at the doorstep, he paused, he saw Criston sat at the counter with a drink in front of him, eyes down. He sighed and walked in, sitting beside him, giving the bartender a nod to have the same drink his friend had. When he turned to Criston, his face was set in a cold, unreadable expression, but his eyes betrayed him. Anger simmered beneath the surface, barely restrained.

Criston took a sip of his drink and turned to face him. “What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was low but trembling with restrained fury. “You were supposed to be her goddamn protector, Aemond. You were supposed to keep her safe, not… not use her.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Aemond immediately corrected him, though the words felt hollow in his mouth. He knew they wouldn’t ease Criston’s anger.

Criston scoffed, shaking his head, trying to contain his rage. “What was it, then? You seduced her, slept with her, and then what? Tossed her aside like she meant nothing? She’s my daughter, Aemond!” His voice cracked, and the pain in it hit Aemond harder than any physical blow.

Aemond ran a hand through his hair, unsure of what to say. “I tried to end it more times than you think.” He shook his head. “But… she is… she’s just…” He sighed. “It wasn’t easy.”

Because I wanted to fuck her every time I saw her.

Because I’m sick, and the same woman I saw grow up, I end up fuck too.

Criston’s eyes flashed, his hands clenched into fists. 

Criston leaned back, staring at Aemond with a look that was a mix of anger, disappointment, and something deeper, something more broken. “I trusted you with her, Aemond. I trusted you like a brother. But after this…” He sighed, shaking his head again. “I don’t know if we can ever go back to how things were. Not after what you did.”

Aemond’s chest tightened at those words, the weight of them crushing him. He knew this was the cost of his actions, but hearing it from Criston himself made the loss all too real. He hadn’t just lost you, he’d lost the only family he had left outside of his own blood.

“I’m sorry,” Aemond said quietly, though he knew the words would do little to ease the hurt.

Criston stood, his movements slow and deliberate, as if the weight of their conversation had finally taken its toll. He looked down at Aemond, his face hardened with resolve. “You’re not the one who needs to hear that apology, Aemond. She is. You’re going to talk to her, and you’re going to explain yourself. “ He sighed. “Do you even love her?”

Aemond froze at Criston’s question, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn’t expected that, hadn’t expected to be asked outright if he loved you. But there it was, hanging in the air between them like a sword poised to fall.

Did he love you? He didn’t know if he even understood what love meant anymore. He’d been drawn to you in ways that terrified him, ways that made him feel like he was drowning every time he was near you. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop wanting you, hadn’t been able to stay away despite knowing how wrong it was. But love?

“I…” Aemond began, his voice faltering as he searched for the right words. He wanted to lie, to say that it had meant nothing, that he could walk away without looking back. But that would be a lie, one Criston would see through immediately. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if it was love… or if it was just… something else.”

Criston’s face twisted with disgust at his hesitation, his fists clenching tighter. “Something else? Something else?” he repeated, his voice rising. “You mean lust. That’s all it was to you, wasn’t it?”

Aemond’s jaw tightened, shame burning through him. He didn’t have an answer that would satisfy Criston. He wasn’t even sure he had one for himself. All he knew was that the pull he felt toward you had consumed him in ways he hadn’t expected, and now, everything had crumbled because of it.

Criston shook his head in disbelief, the pain and betrayal etched deep in his features. “She’s not just some conquest, Aemond. She’s my daughter. She trusted you, and you… you broke her heart.”

Aemond’s throat tightened, the guilt threatening to choke him. He could see the depth of Criston’s hurt, could feel the weight of his own actions pressing down on him like a vice. He had betrayed the one person who had always stood by him, and for what? A momentary lapse in judgment? A desire he couldn’t control?

“I didn’t want this to happen,” Aemond said, his voice raw with regret. “I didn’t mean for it to get this far. But once it did… I couldn’t stop.”

Criston’s gaze hardened, his hands trembling with barely restrained fury. “You could have stopped,” he spat. “You should have stopped. You had a choice, Aemond. And you chose her. You chose to betray me.”

Aemond’s chest ached at those words, the truth of them cutting deeper than he’d anticipated. He had chosen you, again and again, despite knowing it would destroy everything. And now, the price of that choice was staring him in the face.

“I know I can’t fix this,” Aemond said quietly. “I know I can’t undo what I’ve done. But I will talk to her. I’ll tell her the truth. She deserves that much.”

Criston’s expression remained cold, unyielding. “You’re damn right she deserves the truth. But don’t expect her to forgive you. Don’t expect me to forgive you.”

Aemond nodded slowly, accepting the reality of the situation. He didn’t expect forgiveness. He didn’t deserve it.

Criston took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of their conversation seemed to settle over him. “You’ve lost me, Aemond,” he said softly, his voice laced with sadness. “But more than that, you’ve lost her. And I hope, for your sake, you understand what that really means. You stay away from her.”

Aemond watched in silence as Criston stood up and walked out of the bar, leaving him alone with the echo of those final words. The emptiness that followed was suffocating.

And for the first time in his life, Aemond wasn’t sure if he could live with the consequences of what he’d done.

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy @agoldenwoe

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing — Damian Priest ♥︎ f!Reader 🖤 Summary — Damian’s girlfriend and Rhea have a deep hatred for one another, leaving Damian in the middle to referee. 🖤 Word Count — 1.5k 🛑 Warnings — NSFW. Overstimulation, unprotected p in v, cum 18+ 🖤 Notes — Spanish translations are at the end of the story provided by Google Translate. Thank you so much to @miss-kuki-nz for being my muse. 🖤 Taglist — In the comments. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 🖤 Requested By — @twistedprincess-92. Hope you enjoy! 🖤 MASTERLIST, KINK LIST

“I am so tired of this bullshit,” Damian complained, unlocking the front door to his and his girlfriend’s home. He shoved it open, and no matter how angry he was, the man never forgot his manners, so he motioned for the tiny woman beside him to enter ahead of him.

Had she not been absolutely livid at the moment, she’d have swooned, as she was prone to doing, but as the situation stood, there would definitely be no swooning this time. “You and me both, babe,” she hissed as she passed him.

Damian slammed the door and locked it before stomping after her into the living room. He watched as she kicked her heels off and doffed her leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the couch. She crossed her arms, and he knew it was going to be a long night. “You’re acting like you’re the one that should be mad right now,” he said, motioning in her direction.

“Are you saying I’m not?” she asked evenly, brows in her hairline, and it was that perfectly held-together tone that gave Damian an ominous chill down his spine.

“Yeah, I’m saying you’re not. I’m the one that has to referee his girlfriend and his best friend every damn time we go out somewhere.”

“Oh, poor you,” his girlfriend spat. “At least you’re not the one getting called a golddigger!”

“She did not call you a golddigger.”

“Wait, no, you’re right. What she said was you’re just like all the rest. Like the girl you dated before me who spent all your money.”

“She’s just looking out for me.”

“Well, Damian, which is it? Did she not say it or is she protecting a six-foot-five grown ass man who can take care of himself?”

Damian’s hands came to his head but they dropped quickly. “You both literally want the same thing. I don’t understand any of this.”

“Maybe we do want the same thing, but she’s the one being a bitch about it.”

“Oh, great. Next you’re gonna tell me she’s the one that started it.”

“Actually, she did.”

Damian’s eyes went to the ceiling. He couldn’t believe they were having this argument again. It had been almost a year since he’d introduced the love of his life to his best friend, and ever since that day, he hadn’t had a moment’s peace. Maybe the two women were simply too alike and would consequently never get along. So where did that leave him? He refused to choose between them, and he refused to allow them to bully him into choosing between them. Had they reached an impasse? Was this just supposed to be his life now? And when the couple inevitably got married, was Rhea not going to be invited?

“And what if I just say I’m done with it?” he suddenly asked, turning his head to look at his girlfriend.

She stared at him. “What does that mean?”

Damian sighed. “Never mind.”

“You wanna be done with me?”

“I didn’t say—“

“The hell you didn’t. I’m not in Rhea’s cool book, so you’re just gonna toss me aside?”

“You’re not lis—”

“Fuck you, Damian.”

His brows rose and he nodded. “Fuck me?”

“Fuck you.”

She stomped past him, glaring the whole way, and it was clear she didn’t want to be followed, nor did he particularly want to follow her. He knew the door slam was coming, but he still jumped just the same as he removed his jacket, dropping it over the back of the couch before he fell onto the cushions with a heavy sigh. He scrubbed his hands over his face, grabbed the remote, and turned on the television knowing full well he wasn’t interested in watching anything.

He was all threats, and she knew it. He wasn’t going to break up with her, and he wasn’t going to sever ties with Rhea, either. He would live with it, he supposed, like he had been, spending the rest of his life hoping things would change. In the meantime, he’d have to keep them separated. Like children.

“Damian?”

Damian stirred, clearing his throat, and his eyes slowly blinked open. He must have fallen asleep at some point as he was now prone on the couch, one boot on the cushion, the other on the floor. Had he heard his name in a dream? He sat up, yawning, and arched his back to work out the kinks.

“Papí?” his girlfriend called again from upstairs.

“Yeah, babe?” he replied, looking over his shoulder toward the staircase.

“Will you please come to bed?”

He smirked. Yeah, he was gonna live with it. He loved her too damn much. “I’m on my way.” He pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time, discovering a message from Rhea.

I love you, twin. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.

Damian’s smile only grew and his heart swelled, but then realized his girlfriend hadn’t been the first one to apologize. Did that bother him? Did it really matter? He could build on this. Light at the end of the tunnel. He turned the TV off before climbing the stairs and made his way down the corridor toward their bedroom. The door was open and the lights were off save for the nightlight near the bed on her side—she’d never admitted to it, but she had at least a slight fear of the dark. She was in bed, under the blankets, facing him, the azure hue from the nightlight painting her face in blues and shadows. Damian took his clothes off and crawled under the blankets behind her, pulling her naked body to his. That distended heart of his promised to pop, as his girlfriend cuddled back into him, rubbing her ass against his cock, moaning when his arms wrapped around her.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she mumbled. “You’re right. I’ve been a jerk. Rhea and I can figure this out.”

Damian’s grin could have lit up the entire room. They are just alike. He kissed her neck softly, attacking her spots as his hand drifted along her body. She squirmed when he cupped her breast, rocking her hips against his. “I know you will,” he growled, omitting the text from Rhea. “Because you’re wonderful.” He pinched an already hard nipple, ripping a groan from deep in her throat. “And you’re perfect.” His stiffening cock thrust against the crack of her ass, and she reached back to clutch his hip over the blankets. “And you’re so fucking sexy.”

She giggled. “You sweet-talker.”

“Mhmmm,” Damian mumbled, nibbling on her earlobe. His warm hand slid from her breast, the pads of his fingers skating along her abdomen, and she lifted her leg so those fingers could slip into her dampening pussy.

“Fuck,” she whined, tightening her thighs around his hand as she rode his digits. “Shouldn’t this be the other way around?” she breathed. “I’m the one that screwed up.”

“That makes me right,” Damian boasted, “which means I get what I want. And this is what I want.” His middle finger slid inside her, her hips bucking to accept and bring him deeper. “I’m gonna make you cum at least three times before I even fuck that pussy.”

And he made good on his word, working her over with his fingers until she was trembling beside him not once, not twice, but three times, and by the third time, his girlfriend was a sobbing, quivering, begging-for-mercy mess. She almost protested when Damian began to slide his stiff manhood inside her, and maybe she did a little, but her objection was weak and unconvincing. His hand on her thigh lifted her leg in the air, she pivoted her hips, and her pussy sucked him deeper within her, Damian groaning.

“God, I can’t,” she all but wept, “I can’t, I can’t.” She repeated the words in time with Damian’s pumps, and he nuzzled her neck with tender kisses.

“Yes, you can,” Damian panted. “You’re doing so good. You can take just a little bit more.” He placed her leg gently on top of its twin, tightening her already impossibly tight cunt, and he squeezed her hip before thrusting into her. “That’s it,” he whispered, watching with wild eyes as his girlfriend fisted the sheets and bit down on the pillowcase, “take it for Papí.”

His girlfriend lurched, strangled sounds escaping her lips as her pussy pulsed around him. And that was enough to send Damian over the edge. He pressed his face to her hair and emptied himself inside her, his hips stuttering, pounding, pausing, thrusting again. After several moments, he tried to pull out, but she grabbed hold of him anyway she could, and that’s where he stayed.

“Don’t even think about moving for at least the next five to seven hours.”

Damian chuckled. “Little sensitive?”

His girlfriend scoffed. “You would be too if you just came three times in a row.”

“Oh, you didn’t cum while we were fucking? Let me fix that.”

Her grip on him tightened. “Don’t even think about it. I swear, I don’t even know what Rhea and I are fighting about. I’m the one that needs protection from you.”

Damian laughed again. “I love you, mi vida.”

“I love you … jerk.”

જ⁀➴°⋆ Papí — Daddy જ⁀➴°⋆ Mi vida — My life

[kaivenom]

I'm obsessed with your writings about the one piece DILFs, can we get the dilfs cockwarming with specifically a male reader? Reader approaches them to ask about doing it or when the guys would want to do it? Whichever you'd rather explore ✨

Male!reader cockwarming the One Piece Dilfs HCS

Characters: Mihawk, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Smoker,Shanks.

A/N: ohhh, what i see here? A challenge? I accept... Jokes aside, i am a woman and i try to make the hcs as neutral as posible so everyone can identify themselves so this is new, i hope i do It right.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

Surprisingly is a really current activity.

He stays away from you long periods of time so when he cames back, both of you want to be close to each other... To the point of being really really close.

Now Its almost like a normal things, you miss him and get a little horny and lonely so you go to where he is, get naked and sit on his lap.

Like a clock, he understands what you want and instantly gets hard (even if he Will never admit that you have that power over him).

You sink yourself over his cock with a groan from both and stay that way all day, asking you how your days went or just listen to the silence.

Sometimes you fall asleep, other times you feel a little playful and start to move slowly... To Heat him Up, either to not get Up or tu go fuck you.

The first time It happened he started at you blankly, not really knowing where you got that idea, but when he saw the desperate look on your eyes and the bulge on your pants, he decided to indulge you.

The surprise it's that he loves It, and when he is outside on a job he just dreams about getting home to you and just spent all day with you ass on his cock.

Thatˋs your unique way to be together and spent time, sometimes ending Up on other things.

Donquixote Doflamingo

Lets be real, probably he was the one to proposed It.

But supposing that you gained the confidence to tell him about this, he Will see It as a challenge.

He Will challenge you to stay still as long as possible but that is really difficult when he is jerking you off and smacking his hips onto you form time to time.

And this situation happens a couple of times, always trying to push you out of your limits.

But one day he started to loose interest, not in the cockwarming but onto the teasing, he realised that he just liked to have you on his lap and talk about stupid things.

But he still IS a bastard so expect a smack, a thrust, or a teasing on your cock.

Sr. Crocodile

He spents too much time on the job, and you started to get needy and annoyed at his work addiction.

So, one day you went to him at work and he thought "nice, now i can rest a little, i am really tired", but when you put his hand on your pants and sat on his lap, he sighted, he understands your point but work gets him tired.

The thing he didn't expected was for you to stay still on his lap, he for sure thought that you were going to ride him, but this sensation it's not that bad.

It's the good about sex and your perfect ass but without needing to waste an energy that he doesn't have.

So now, from time to time, you get a call from his Office and you go to leave something, but you just stay there talking sweet things to him while he is burried inside you.

He simply loves It, cause he can see you and take a taste of you but still be in good shape to continue the day... But this doesn't mean that he won't go home and finish business.

Smoker

When he got ascended on his job, you started to see him really, really stressed and somehow, you came Up with that idea.

You approached him and proposed that, he turned into a tomato and say no.

But later that week, when he was on the verge of a collapse from the stress, he called you and accepted the request.

From that moment, when you sat on his lap while was laying in bed, It became his little moment of peace, plus if you give him a massage.

The view of your body on top of him and your ass pressing against his cock just makes It imposible for him to think on anything else.

It just gives him what he needs to keep going with his day and job.

It has come to the point that even on the morning, when he didn't leave to work yet, that he just wants a little session of cockwarming to start te day.

Akagami Shanks

You both Saw It at the first time on a sex tape, It was interesting in theory.

But when you tried, Shanks didn't get It and started to get a little impatient, laughing nervously while trying to thrust into you.

"I dont get It."

"It's supposed to be intimate, we are supposed to be like this to connect more." you said while locking your hips.

"i am with my dick on your ass, i can't be more connected than this." You looked at him annoyed.

"Idiot." You were about to stand Up but he stopped you with little kisses.

"Sorry, tell me something to distract." But he couldn't get distracted for much time.

It's not something that happens usually, but when you are in the mod, he tries to indulge you into this. Even when he didn't last long and end Up fucking you afterwards, he tries.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Figuratively Dying

Summary: the night before their wedding, Cassian is losing his mind.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: a tiny lil fluffy drabble to let you all know im coming back w my fics now that many of u are done with exams hehe 🤭

Cassian was dying.

Figuratively, he was dying.

Literally, he was very much alive, if his restlessness was any indication.

Every few moments, his wings would twitch, nervousness and anticipation slowly trickling into his bloodstream, making it impossible to sit still.

"Sit down brother. Time is not going to pass quicker if you burn a hole in the floor."

Cassian snarled in response, eyes flitting over to meet star flecked ones of Rhysand, who exposed his palms in a placating motion. "I’m just saying. Instead of tiring yourself out and making us dizzy, why don’t you sit down and have a drink?"

Azriel snorted in response. "Do you really think he cares about your opinion right now?"

Cassia reigned in a snarl, instead turning to stare out the open doors of the balcony, his mind again contemplating knocking out his brothers just so he could go to meet his love.

Cassian was being held captive.

It was downright cruel, if he said so himself. Mor had come up with the stupid rule. That he was to stay away from his soon to be wife for a whole day before their wedding.

Why, Cassian couldn’t understand. But here he was, being forced to comply.

"Cass-"

"I swear on the dark waters of the cauldron Rhys, if you don’t shut you big mouth now, I am going to fucking knock you out."

"I’m just-"

Thump.

Wide hazel eyes flew to Cassian’s, alarmed, as Rhys lost consciousness.

Cassian stared back, hand burning from the blow he had dealt, and finally, Azriel gestured at him. "Go. I am not stopping you."

"Fucking finally." Cassian mumbled as he stalked out into the open night, his wings stretching to catch the wind in their leathery grip, and then let them carry him away.

The clear air penetrated his lungs, expanding them to their full might, and washed all his nervousness for the day after away. Everything was going to go well. He was sure of it.

But he was so tired. He missed her so much.

It didn’t take long until he was hovering over the balcony that led to the room he shared with his lover, Y/n.

Slowly, so slow that a snail would have laughed at him, Cassian let himself land, eyes already searching for her without permission.

"Sunshine?"

Silence. Heavy, pregnant silence.

And then- "Cass?"

The puff of air turned white in front of his face, and steeling himself, he stepped forward.

There she stood, in nothing but a silk nightgown, staring at him with wide eyes. "What- what are you doing here?"

He said nothing, giving himself a moment to admire the angel that had blessed him by just even looking in his direction.

"Cass?"

He stepped forward, his wings folding of their own accord the closer he got to her. Y/n simply stared at him, perplexed, and refused to move even when he reached out to her. Which he was happy about as he grabbed her in his arms, releasing a breath of relief.

"Oh I missed you, sunshine."

"Is that why you are here? You do know Mor will have your head if-"

"Mor can shut the fuck up. The fact that she does not have an angel of a wife to cuddle with does not mean I should stay away from mine."

He could hear her blood rushing to her face, and sure enough, when he pulled back from mumbling into her neck, she refused to meet his eyes.

"Cass-"

"Yes, sunshine?"

She rolled her eyes at his teasing smirk, finally leaning into his embrace. "I missed you too."

Cassian hummed, walking her back until they had reached the bed. Then he picked her up, her thighs wrapping around his waist, and crawled onto the plush material of the mattress. "Good night."

She yelped as he dropped all his weight onto her, and even though Cassian knew she liked it, he could not help but wonder if he should have been gentler. "Are you staying here?"

He scoffed. "Of course I am. Where else would I stay?"

"Mor-"

"Shh. I love you." He mumbled, pressing his face into her chest.

He could feel her vibrating laughter, and it made him smile too, knowing he was the reason.

"Good night. I love you." She muttered, reaching her fingers out to caress the back of his head softly. "I can’t wait for tomorrow."

"Me neither."

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[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 20

Emily Prentiss x reader warning: language, alcohol, smut mentioned. i think thats about it? 4.7k

Salt Lake City was boring, tedious even with little to nothing to keep your brain occupied as you sat through meeting after meeting, several interviews, and public statements. It was a walk in the park type of excursion for Heather, supporters already wooed, state governors already in her pocket, it was as if she was just visiting a bunch of old friends and family. You honestly weren’t even sure what she needed you there for, Cynthia was there, her PA had tagged along now that they were back from vacation, you easily could have done your job through the internet from the comfort of your couch and not had to cancel on Emily. Your phone ended up holding your attention for most of the day and most of that wasn’t actually work related. After exhausting all your brain power on what she could possibly want you on there was only one thing left on your mind.

Which is why when you got back from dinner you stepped out of your heels and wandered through the adjoining door to her hotel room.

“That was practically torture.” You grumbled as you padded through her room.

Heather had her back to you, her phone in her hands as she shot of a couple of texts, a small laugh escaping her lips, “and here I was thinking you would enjoy that caviar flight.”

“I’ve had fresher.” You replied with a huff, “and I meant the whole day not just dinner.”

She chuckled again, removing her earrings, placing them down for safe keeping, “no wonder you were so distracted, you spent more than half of it on your phone.” She finally turned to face you.

“I was simply killing time.” You stated with a shrug, the strap of your dress falling past your shoulder, “and now we’re here…” you cocked a brow in her direction and her lips pursed for a moment.

“Wait.” Her fingers reached out, neatly pulling the strap of your dress back over your shoulder, smoothing the fabric over your skin and she could feel the way you nearly tensed under her touch.

“Wait, what?” You dropped down onto the edge of her bed, suddenly feeling rather self conscious, “you need to take a call or something?”

“No, but I think you might have some thinking to do.”

“I’m confused.”

“We don’t need to do this.”

“We always do this,” you replied, your brows furrowing. It wasn’t that you were hurt or even disappointed, honestly you were a little too tired for her usual level of exertion. You were just incredibly perplexed, “it’s almost like a …tradition or something by now.”

“Sweetheart, know that I am definitely not turning you down,” she started, her hand gently pinching at your chin, “but are you sure you even want to fuck me right now? Or is this purely out of habit?”

Your lips parted as if you had something ready to say to her when your head tilted and your mouth shut once again, your lips pressed against each other tightly as you thought it over. You looked back up at her, your head still tilted as you surveyed her.

“Have you finally hit menopause?”

Heather gawked, barking out a laugh as she stepped towards the mini bar, plucking two of the mini goblets of wine and passing one to you. “Why on earth would you assume that?”

“I ‘ve known you over twenty years and you don’t turn down sex.”

A small grin took over her lips as she stepped back towards you, “I do when the other person is taken.”

“I’m not”—

She cut you off with a look and you were even more confused when her fingers slipped into the neckline of your dress, knuckles brushing your chest as she tugged it down and a sudden blush took over your cheeks.

“Maybe not by a label, but you are covered in possessive marks. Three that I can see on your tits, one that you’ve done a decent job covering up on your neck and I’m not even sure I want to know what I’ll find on your thighs.” She let the fabric spring back into its proper place, and you felt a little less exposed, shifting in your seat you could still feel the ache between your thighs.

“You’re over thinking things Heat, we had a rough session. I told her to be rough, to bite harder, she was just doing what I asked.”

“Possibly.” She unscrewed the wine, taking a sip, “but I think when it comes down to it, Emily Prentiss isn’t an idiot. She’s a profiler no matter what situation she’s in, it’s what comes naturally. She saw that bracelet, heard the teasing and jokes about how much it cost and your winter bonus after we’d been out of town and put two and two together that we fucked that week.”

You let out a tired sigh, your hand brushing over your face before you cracked your own drink to take a swig, “the literal teeth marks you left on my leg probably didn’t help.”

“Those should have healed by the weekend.”

“I saw her the night we got back.” You looked up to her with another groan, “and she knows I had blood taken that day…”

“And now she knew that we were travelling again and wanted to leave a little reminder. Whether for you or me, that’s still up for debate.” She chuckled, “it might not be jealousy, but I know how to read a situation and that’s what’s coming off right now. I highly doubt she wants to share anymore.”

“She always said she never wanted strings.” You shrugged, “I was just playing by the rules of the contract.”

“Contracts can always be ripped up,” she noted, “but that’s not important. What is, is what do you want.”

Looking up at her you were surprised when nothing instantly came to your mouth, instead gaping at her as your brain tried to unscramble all of the wires. You knew you enjoyed sex with Emily, that you enjoyed your time with her and certainly wouldn’t complain about more. Tony’s arguments had already been lingering in your brain all week, hell, you’d spent most of the day smiling at your phone like an idiot texting Emily about how bored you were.

Heather burst you out of your bubble back to reality when she tapped her finger to the tip of your nose, a knowing grin on her lips.

“My point exactly. You don’t spend a week and a half in the Maldives with someone and not fall for them. Especially with how incredibly sappy you get over the damn ocean. What I find puerile she likely finds endearing.”

“Sorry, what?”

This time the gentle poke landed on your forehead, “you’re smart. Now use that brain of yours to figure it out. You’ve been doing this arrangement for a while now, maybe it’s time to pull the plug. What direction you choose to go in after that is up to you and I think you already know. I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you at this point.” Her fingers fiddled with your earlobe, “you’ve been wearing those since you came back.”

“Huh…” you clucked your tongue, your own fingers replacing hers as you toyed with the starfish earring.

“Now go,” she swatted at your side, handing you the mini wine she’d taken a sip out of, “rack up a mini bar charge and do some thinking. Lord knows you didn’t use your brain for anything today but texting.”

You let out a mock scoff as you shuffled from the room, knowing that the comment was in jest, but made sure to swipe another drink from her fridge before you stepped back into your own room. Before you could even circle back and ask the original question, she was already a step ahead of you.

“And I brought you on this trip because we have brunch with the governor tomorrow and she’s got a soft spot for you. Thinks I’m too harsh or something, thought maybe you could warm her up.”

Right. There it was.

**

Over in DC, Emily was nearly in the same boat as you, although she’d already done her thinking about how she felt, it didn’t take a mastermind to realize that she had feelings. Feelings that were more than just sexual. If she had still been struggling with that last week, it was made pretty clear to her when the rage of jealousy surged through her at even the thought of DiNozzo managing to sleep with you. As the days crept by, she had finally accepted that the trip to the Maldives had been to get one up on Heather, to prove that something like that and the quality time that came along with it was worth far more than a stupid bracelet. A bracelet she hadn’t seen since, and on top of that, in every cute picture you’d sent her since coming home you’d been wearing the earrings she bought for you. Earrings that meant a hell of a lot more than a price tag.

Still, there shouldn’t have been any reason for her to still be closed in her office when it was pushing eleven pm.

Except that she didn’t want to go home. Home meant quiet, too quiet, too personal, too much space for her thoughts to start to get lost in. That meant seeing the toothbrush that belonged to you next to hers when she went to wash her face, the mini bottle of skin care tucked in a corner of her basin. It meant noticing that you’d left a sweater strewn over the back of her couch, a novel you were halfway through forgotten on her coffee table that would bring back the memory of you curled up on a chilly Sunday morning with a cup of coffee completely engrossed in the story while she slept in. It meant tossing and turning when she couldn’t sleep and ending up grabbing the other pillow only for the scent of your shampoo to invade her nose and keep her up all night until she spewed off some sappy revealing middle of the night text to you.

All things considered; work sounded like the safer option.

She was going back and fourth between a handful of casefiles, trying to figure out which one deemed priority once they wrapped their current one (or NCIS decided they could oversee the closing on their own). Take out sat relatively untouched to her side, at the very least she’d eaten the spring rolls and fortune cookie and there was no way she was getting through tonight without sneaking a coffee mug full of wine. The building was relatively quiet, and she thought she was alone until there was a knock on her door and she jolted upright, looking across the room to find DiNozzo lingering in the doorway.

He muttered an apology, crossing the room to add another file to her inbox as he ran through what he’d found. Emily could have sworn she was listening, she could hear his voice, she was processing the information, her brain already figuring out how to approach everything with the rest of the team in the morning, what kind of homework it likely meant for her and Garcia. Tony watched as she scribbled something down on a post it, sticking it to her computer monitor and started to step out of the room, half wondering if she was listening at all. She kept glancing towards her phone, poking the screen as if she was expecting a call, like phantom vibrations were going off and pulling her attention. He mumbled something about leaving, that she should probably head home soon too and she made a noise in his direction as her eyes fell to her phone again, this time swiping it open to her messenger app before letting out a soft sigh. He had made it all the way to the door by the time her voice rang through the office clear as day.

“Hey, what time is it in Salt Lake right now?”

“Uh…” He pulled his wrist up, studying his watch, “they’re two hours behind us so… eight fifty three?”

Emily let out a hum of sorts, her fingers prodding at her phone again as if she expected it to jump to life out of nowhere. As much as Tony wanted to get out of there, a movie and a cold beer calling his name, he knew that look of longing too much, hand faltering on the doorjamb as he pulled himself back into her office.

“You know, those political dinners, they’re insane, entire theatre productions from start to finish.” He waved his hand for exaggeration, “it doesn’t matter how fast anyone wants them done with, someone’s gonna order every single course and one of every dessert, they drag on for hours.” He glanced down to her phone screen, “she’s probably out rubbing elbows pretending she knows how to smoke a cigar.”

“Huh?” Emily’s attention was finally pulled from her thoughts and she looked up at the man, a near concerned look written across her face and he sighed softly, daring to step further into her office.

“Listen, I know this isn’t exactly my place, and I’m definitely not a profiler, but I’m still an investigator…”

“Go on…” She folded her arms in front of her, elbows propped on her desk.

“This is about Walton and Heather being out of town together again, right?”

“She’s out of town, that doesn’t bother me.”

“But you found out about their… extracurriculars…” He offered, cautiously sitting down in a chair across from her desk and she let out a small huff, her eyes darting over to her phone for a second to avoid the question.

“Yeah.”

Tony’s head nodded, biting his lip for a second as he debated just how much of a verbal lashing he could get for something like this, “and you’re not a fan of that, so you’re sitting here still pretending to work rather than going home to relax because you know once you do you won’t be able to think of anything except that and that sounds even worse.”

Emily’s eyes snapped from her phone up to Tony as she jumped back into the conversation that was actually happening rather than the thoughts flying around in her head and her eyes narrowed, casting him a look so hard that he nearly gulped.

“I’m in my office late all the time.” She attempted to justify, “maybe you wouldn’t get it but as a team leader there is literally always something to do, another problem to solve another case to dwell over.”

“Yeah but it isn’t all about work, you’ve gotta have something to distract yourself.”

“I did—I- ac- do!” She tried to hide her flub but the smirk on his lips was telling that he already caught it and she groaned, praying her cheeks weren’t visibly heated, “c’mon. What does Gibbs do?”

“Builds boats in his garage.”

“Miniatures?”

“Full sized. In sailable condition.”

“Huh…” Emily’s head titled, her brow furrowing as her gaze drifted out the window, silence taking over the room for a moment before she spoke again, “how does he get them out?”

“No one knows.” He shrugged.

“Huh…”

Tony chuckled, letting her try to figure it out for a minute before shoving his nose back into her business, “listen, I know it’s not my place at all, but I do know her pretty well and I know she really likes spending time with you. She can be a bit of an enigma and that’s only gotten more intense the longer she’s worked the job she has, having to play pretend and like she’s best friends with half those douchebags when in reality she doesn’t let a lot of people in… ever.”

“And what? I’m ‘the one who’s different’?” Emily nearly scoffed as her fingers made air quotes around the words, pulling a small laugh out of DiNozzo.

“Considering the amount of crap you have lying around her apartment, yeah.” His lips curved up into a grin at her surprised reaction, “she likes you. And she’s reasonable. You wanna change whatever agreement you have, I’m sure she’ll be up for it.”

“Yeah?” She raised a brow, an unsettling feeling in her gut as her eyes dropped to her phone once again, still utterly void of notifications, “and if she comes home with teeth marks again?”

“From what I’ve heard you left some pretty impressive bruises yourself.” It slipped out of his mouth before he even realized and Emily made an unintelligible noise before blushing, sinking deeper into her chair. “Besides, Heather is the last of your worries, okay? She’s never going to be a threat, she’s married, always will be and always has a string of other mistresses, that isn’t long term for anyone and it was always incredibly casual between them. But that doesn’t mean that someone else won’t come along, take it from me, you’re gonna wanna say something before it’s too late.”

A sparkle flashed through Emily’s eyes, a sneaky grin taking over her lips as she shifted gears, “yeah? Ziva get a boyfriend?”

“Arrrhhhh!” Tony let out a frustrated groan as he pulled himself up from the chair, stomping his feet in a little tantrum, pouting when he turned back to her, “she went on a daaaaaate.”

“Then buck up and take your own advice DiNozzo.” She laughed and he huffed.

“Fine.” Grumbling he made his way back to the door before he suddenly turned back, “can I ask one last thing?”

“Sure.”  She figured the least she could do was humour him at this point.

“Do you guys have some kinda Pretty Woman rule going on?”

“What?” Her brow furrowed as she let out a laugh, “DiNozzo come on, I thought you of all people would have put t together by now. Yeah, I take her on dates, gift her cash, she… compensates otherwise.”

“No.” He chuckled, “have you seen the movie?”

“Not in about a million years.”

“Julia Roberts character has this thing, she doesn’t kiss her clients, especially on the lips, it’s too intimate, too personal.”

“Okay…” The confused expression remained on her face, having no clue what he was getting at.

“Think about it. When you greet each other, or say good bye, is it an actual kiss greeting, one of the more casual cheek kisses? Are there those longing goodbye kisses where you can’t let go of the other person because you don’t want to leave, or is it brief and that lingering feeling’s like, tickling away under your skin instead?”

“I…” Emily’s gaze dropped, thinking through as many of your interactions as she could. It made sense that any greetings were impersonal, they were usually in public, everything had been kept on a strict business level of communication when you’d first started. You barely kissed on the mouth in more intimate moments. “Huh…”

“See?” Tony stepped backwards toward the door, “movie magic, always a truth to it. Next time you see her? Kiss her. Really kiss her. Because if anything it’ll help you realize that you never want to let her go.”

“I think you might spend a little bit too much time watching romance movies.” She laughed.

“Really?” He raised a brow, “then prove me wrong.”

**

You were sitting on your hotel bed, phone twirling around between your hands as you stared at whatever the television was playing. You’d spent far too long in the shower trying to clear your head, using every single toiletry they had before drying yourself off with the fluffiest towel and putting on your pyjamas. Sinking against the headboard you’d drifted off to a field of memories, the visions replaying in your mind as you ignored the television. When those weren’t enough you’d opened the photo gallery on your phone, scrolling through the assortment of pictures, mainly ones from the Maldives, too many of the ocean to even count.

The door between your rooms remained unlocked, cracked open so you could still bother each other. Heather had assumedly gotten an email or update about the morning, knocking briefly before swinging the door open. She stayed perched in the doorway, letting you have your space while she rambled on. She stopped suddenly, looking up from her phone to catch you staring into space, your eyes completely unfocused.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?” You looked up, blinking a few times as you returned to earth.

“What is going on in that pretty little head?” Heather asked, relaxing against the doorjamb as her arms crossed over her chest, “I leave you for a couple of hours and your zonked out? Talk to me.”

You let out a tired huff, swiping the mini wine bottle from the nightstand and draining it in one go, “how am I supposed to do this?”

“Do what?” Her voice was softer than you’d expected it, the more maternal side of her beginning to come out.

“Shift from being a sugar baby to… more…” When you looked up at her there was a level of hesitancy she had never seen behind your eyes.

“Just tell her you want to end the arrangement, gauge her response, readjust and go from there.” She replied, as if it was easy as placing a coffee order.

“I dunno…” your eyes dropped, “I mean, all I’ve heard are the horror stories of girls crying on your doorstep being nearly pathetic cause they want more. Hell, I’ve witnessed that Heather. It doesn’t exactly look like a fun time.”

“You’re overthinking. And you’re worried.” The other woman’s face fell at the way you started picking at your cuticles.

“Obviously.” You let out an unsure laugh before looking up at her, “I mean, c’mon. She’s a fucking profiler, there’s no way that she hasn’t figured me out yet, even if it took me longer. She reads body language for a living and if she wanted to have more she would have said something already.” You took another swig of wine, “I let you and Tony get under my skin, let you plant ideas in my head and now it’s all I can think about. I can’t focus, I haven’t gotten a single piece of work done and I…”

“Oh sweetheart…” Heather’s voice softened once again, moving through the room to perch on the foot of the bed.

“What?” You asked dryly, looking up at her.

“You’re not just worried, you’re scared.”

“Well…” you gestured vaguely and let out a huff, “it all seems kind of ridiculous. I mean, have you ever felt like this? Been this confused?”

“Of course.” She chuckled.

“But you’re so… distant, cold even. You’ve got all these rules and they’re strict.”

“What a pleasant way of calling me a bitch.” She teased with a smirk and you rolled your eyes, “I had those kind of feelings and internal panic when I first started dating my husband.” She let that sink in, “which is why you shouldn’t think about or compare anything that has ever happened with me and a sugar baby, because its not the same.”

“What’d you mean?”

“They’re never long term.” Her head shook, “It’s all about the business, the transaction and as you said, I keep extremely strict lines. Yours have started to blur. Emily’s not married, she’s not committed to anyone else and neither are you, it’s easy to start to slip out of whatever boundaries you previously set, especially if you like each other. What started out as an arrangement sometimes does turn into something real, and while I haven’t really seen the two of you together I can definitely understand why it would work out so I think it’s worth a shot.”

You sighed, and Heather frowned at how dejected you looked in that moment, “I dunno….”

She squeezed at your hand, “you’re all caught up in your head thinking about all the things that could go terribly wrong, but hear me out… what if they go right?”

Heather didn’t give you time to reply, rather she leant in, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head before sweeping from the room, the adjoining door swinging shut behind her and you heard the click of the lock shutting.

**

Emily finally dragged herself out of the office after DiNozzo’s visit, try as she might to get a little bit more work done, she now found that his words kept repeating themselves through her brain. If she couldn’t focus on anything, she may as well be able to do it in the comfort of her own home and definitely without her bra digging into her ribcage.

She poured a glass of wine, taking her first sip as she stared out the windows, sweeping across the view and let out a soft sigh. It felt like not that long ago she was standing in the same spot trying to figure out what was missing from her life. Now she knew exactly what she was missing, she missed you, missed your weekly dates that had become more frequent over time. Spending time with you made her happy, you made her happy, wasn’t that what she had wanted in the first place? Happiness? Someone to spend time with that made her heart sing? She huffed out a laugh, maybe that was a little too over the top. She’d wanted someone to spend her time with that made it enjoyable, that brought out a different side to her than the one who worked constantly. You just so happened to be that for her. You also just happened to be the one who was across the country not thinking about her at all while you were the only thing she could think of.

“Fuck..” She whispered softly, dropping her gaze from the window as she sulked towards the living room to drop down on the couch.

She was jealous.

And she absolutely hated that.

You weren’t technically hers, you had both agreed on your limitations, on what was okay outside of your agreement and until the two of you had time to revisit that, she had no real right to be feeling like this. Her free hand twitched and her eyes darted back to the kitchen cupboard she had a pack of cigarette’s stashed for times just like this. She took another swig of wine, nearly draining the glass in an attempt to clog her thoughts, about to stand up when her phone buzzed on the coffee table.

She was genuinely surprised to see a message from you flash across the screen. While you had been texting pretty regularly throughout the afternoon, the moment dinner time hit had been nothing but radio silence. She picked it up, swiping open the thread.

‘God, remind me to never take a SLC trip again. I’ve never been so bored in my life. We’ve got a pit stop in Kansas City on the way but I should be back in DC in time for a late dinner tomorrow… if you’re interested?’

Her heart leapt in her throat and she had to try to resist immediately typing out every little feeling that was flying through her brain in the moment. Instead, she took a breath, finished the last of her wine and replied with something easy.

‘I’d love that.’

She got up, moving toward the kitchen, though the thought of a smoke was far gone from her brain now, she just figured another glass of wine wouldn’t hurt.

‘You better not still be at the office.’

The warning text came through with a playful emoji to make sure she knew you were teasing. She smiled softly, snapping a picture of the wine glass with the view in the background and sending it back to you. It didn’t take long for your next message to come through.

‘Good. But it’s late. Make sure you get some rest tonight.’

‘You too.’

Emily felt her shoulders drop as she let out a breath, moving back to the couch sans cigarettes to finish her wine with a feeling of hope resting in her chest.

_________________

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[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part:𝟷𝟸

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 4624

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

It was quite the struggle to train with Ben for a week, especially when he took it extremely seriously and pushed you to the very limit. It was not that he hurt you; it was that in the lab you either lost your will to fight or you just got really weak.

There were moments when you stated to Ben that things might get serious about your power, but he chose to ignore you and aggravated the training, which left you worn out. But you were relieved that he could, in his own irritating way, encourage you that your strength was still there.

Ben answered, “No,” right away when you wanted to stop the exercise.

Right now, the entire home was a mess, and the hole you had made in the wall remained.

“I'm tired here, Ben,” you complained as you fell to the ground, gasping for air. You had been there exercising together since the morning, and it was nearly the sun going down. Except when you needed to eat or pee, he rarely gave you a moment's peace of mind. “I mean it. I'm done.” 

You opened your hands wide on the ground, and he looked at your body while saying, “You're a supe; you can't just feel exhausted that easily.”

You blushed as you noticed him staring at your soaked entire body and replied, “Give me some break.” There's a good chance that you were both thinking the same thing. “How on earth can you find that much energy? Even for a supe, it's too much.”

Ben stared at you and then took off the shirt he had taken off hours earlier, wiping the sweat from his muscular chest. You grimaced, knowing you probably smelled like trash. 

“It's because I am the strongest; I am not just any average Supe.” With the most arrogant way possible, he threw his t-shirt back to the ground and said, “Simply better and more powerful than anyone. But don't worry; we'll return you to the way things were, sweetie. You have my word.”

He gave you a sneaky smirk when he saw you staring at his broad, sweat-damp chest. Ben was waiting for you, literally, from above, all the time you tried to get some rest. His eyes narrowed, and you suspected his head was full of filthy stuff. 

You just muttered, “I hope so,” and avoided giving him a glance as you closed your eyes.

He sighed and went down on the floor next to you, crossing his big arms over his head. 

“Don't think about it that much. You're going to do even better than you are now. Maybe we should just do those trainings more frequently. What do you say?”

“It’s fine. I don’t have another choice anyway,” you replied, cutting it short while keeping your eyes closed. Even if you felt his intense stare on your face, you didn’t react. “What did the doctor tell you, by the way? The one who supervised Compound V's improvement for decades?”

You remembered that there was a lot of discussion following the news that Ben had killed him at his home. You kind of hoped you could have dealt with that cruel piece of shit on your own, though. He was just a monster with a white robe. He had always made an aggressive attempt to cause damage to you and showed no sympathy or compassion for anyone. You got scared and insecure when you opened your eyes, recalling the physical harm he had inflicted. 

“Fucking piece of shit!” Ben angrily exclaimed, his fists clenched over his head. “I should have killed him properly.” 

“What did he say, so you blew up?” 

“Isn't it obvious? That pussy told me how little supes are in the big picture of science, the future of the supremes, humanity, and some other bullshit. It's certain that Vough paid that cocksucker generously during all those years. He lived in luxury, torturing us, and he didn’t even regret it.”

“Did he tell you what kind of research he did on my body?” You asked as you moved your body to face him. 

Ben fell silent for a minute, enraged by what he remembered the doctor had said about you. Nevertheless, his eyes softened as he saw your expression and saw that you were excited to hear what he was about to say and that you were feeling at ease and comfortable next to him. That was all he needed. Ben recognized that if he made a determined attempt to be by your side and touch you in the way he desired, you would push him even further away and that you weren't

ready for physical contact at this time. He therefore forced himself to keep his distance from you and let you do whatever you wanted.

He just turned to face you and stated, “I didn't give him enough time to talk,” straightening his posture and sitting straight up on the floor. “He's just an animal, and he sees supes as rats for research in order to make profit. That's all.”

“When we agreed to live this life as supers, Ben, we already knew that.” You said bitterly, “People in charge always wanted to play with us like we were toys. They used us as they pleased and needed us for their own good. I wanted to leave the company for a number of reasons, one of which was that I was unaware of how serious that whole picture was. What I need to learn is what they succeeded in doing during the decades we were unconscious and at their mercy.”

Ben sighed and got up to get some weed from the nearest table, just after helping you off the floor.

“I was told by that son of a bitch that he examined you to make the future supers flawless. Though I'm not really sure what he meant, it seems to me that Queen Maeve—the woman from Seven—is their new you.”

“Do you think they might have found a way to weaken me? Don't say 'no' right away,” you said in a hurry when he opened his lips to object. “It just doesn't feel right about what's going on and everything.”

Your concerns, which were constantly lurking beneath the surface, took over when you realized that Ben had remained silent. Something was off with you, you two sensed that. Although after your first training day you felt a little stronger, your weakness remained under your skin.

You pulled open a window to let some fresh air in and muttered, “If you hadn't just killed the doctor, we could have learned about it.”

Ben offered you one of the glasses and sighed as if he regretted what he had done, filling the other one with wine. “I didn't intentionally kill him. It simply happened beyond my control. But I would still murder him anyway.”

You raised an eyebrow and sat down, realizing that your tiredness was taking over. “You need to find a way to control it since your nerves are always on edge,” you said. “And also, I need to find someone who can understand all of this.”

Ben sat beside you, stretching his muscles and leaning back into the coach while he listened to you attentively. As you spoke, you noticed that your gaze lingered a little too long on his sweating body, almost making you flush. 

He studied your expression to see how you would react to his suggestion. He said, “I guess the best option is to kidnap or torture a doctor who is in charge or fuckever who's doing supe studies for Vought right now. We can use Mindstorm to look at your memories and thoughts to see whether they have hurt you in any way.”

His suggestion caused your eyes to widen with excitement, and you exclaimed, “That's actually a smart idea. But how are we supposed to find him?”

“Remember the new technology, sweetheart. Anything is possible with these phones, Bluetooth, and GPS technology. Remember how I found you very easily?”

You gave a nod to him, knowing that what he stated was right and that you would be able to reach Mindstorm with ease thanks to modern technology.

After you had your shower, you saw Ben watching the TV with a dead serious face, and you sat beside him.

As you used the towel in your hand to dry your damp hair, you inquired, “Is there any news about us? Almost a week has passed.”

“Not much,” he replied as he continued to listen to Homelander talk about the two of you.

‘They pose no threat to the United States,’ Homelander confidently stated, grinning, as he extended his arms and turned to face the screen. 'As Seven, we've been trying to find them for a week, but it looks like they are hiding pretty well,' he continued. I, Homelander, the Seven's leader, swear to you that they shall answer for their actions. It has been proven that Soldier Boy rescued Y/N, and it's very likely that the two of them murdered the hapless doctors as well as every lab employee in cold blood and without hesitation.'

You and Ben exchanged a look as Homelander continued his speech. ‘Their families and children are in agony even though our government gives them the best care they can. These two criminals are responsible for the deaths of the orphans whose parents they killed. It breaks our hearts to see them weeping and grieving the loss of their families. There are even toddlers among them. Soldier Boy and Y/N will be held liable and made to pay for the harm they caused to the United States and its citizens. They have little time to conceal; they cannot get away.’

As the audience gave him a loud applause and he flew opening his arms out like.

Ben angrily said, “Fuck that. Son of a bitch,” and threw the remote control onto the table in front of him. “They were just another piece of shits who enjoyed torturing supes, nothing else.”

“But I didn't kill anyone,” you mumbled. “We are past the point of self-justification. Homelander is basically controlling the crowds. They would never pay to listen to us, Ben.”

Ben stared at the TV and said, “I'll teach them how to listen,” in a menacing manner. “You see? It's no longer about Butcher and his useless group. It has to do with our future.”

You could have argued with him about the future, but all you wanted was to avoid getting into another fight with Ben. 

“I think such a guy wouldn't be innocent at all. We might be able to defeat the company if we can figure out how to properly express ourselves, explain to them how Vought tricked us, and show the real Homelander to the rest of the world. There isn't another way.”

 “I know, I know,” he muttered.

As you could tell Ben was becoming enraged and feeling overwhelmed, you touched his bare chest, which had a little glow to it. “Hey, are you okay?”

He responded with, “I am,” placing his hand on yours and giving you a gentle squeeze. 

“Can you please stop getting angry for a second? I can sense the heat building in your chest.” You muttered, “You're stressing me out here,” but you didn't remove your hand from his upper body. You could feel him cooling down beneath your touch once again. It was fine as long as it worked; you simply didn't know why. 

“Well,” he said, arching an eyebrow, licking his lips, allowing you to touch him, and gently tracing his fingers over yours. His powerful, slow beats were calming in a way. “It's not too bad. Is it?” 

You withdrew your hand from his sweating chest while rolling your eyes at him and making sure he was okay. 

Ben had just showered when Butcher and Hughie showed up at the house. 

Butcher remarked in a sly manner, “Glad, I delayed for an hour coming here to pick up you two,” as you and Ben got into the back of the car. “We could have interrupted something funny, judging by the all-wet hairs and all.”

“We were just finished training there!” you exclaimed, your face heated. 

“It must be very good training, indeed. The entire fucking house was damaged like hell. You two spent a whole week all showering and training while we were dealing with the shit Soldier Boy caused.”

“Sorry for that, but it's not what you think, really.”

“I thought Soldier Boy and Crimson were having a relationship. Yet life goes on, don't they? There are always new, fine chickens and dolls all around.” Butcher smirked at Ben.

You were ready to add something about Ben and you having nothing to do, but Ben became enraged right away when Butcher brought up the Crimson Countess. 

“Don't you fucking know how to stay silent and shut your useless mouth?” Butcher was obviously enjoying himself when he suddenly made Ben mad. 

“What made you so furious now? Have I said anything untrue?” 

Hughie leaned back in his seat and said, “Butcher, stop that,” sounding distressed as Ben continued to swear at them both and told Hughie to make Buther to suck him soon, so his mouth would be filled enough not to talk stupid.

“Why even do you become irate out of nowhere? After all, you murdered the poor woman.”

You looked up at Ben, asking with disbelief, “What? Why did you even kill Countess?”

The fact that Ben never brought it up startled you even more than Butcher's statement, as though it were nothing important. You were stunned and shocked beyond belief. At that point, you were at a loss for what to think. You were not sympathetic to her, though. After all, Vought used her as a cunning evil to harm both you and Ben. She was the one who paid you a visit in order to deceive you that day. 

He tried to convince you immediately, giving you a gentle look as if he wanted you to understand what he had done. “She deserved whatever I've done,” he defended himself. 

You acknowledged, “I know she did. But why?”

He looked at Butcher and then turned to face you, almost whispering, “Let's discuss this at a later time. All right?”

You found Annie nowhere to be found when you got to Butcher's home, where only Kimiko and Frenchie were inside. Kimiko watched Frenchie play with his phone, seeming bored.

“Why did it take so long for you to come here?” Frenchie inquired in an irritated manner to Butcher. “You give me too much to deal with, though you know I have things to do. Kimiko is also exhausted.”

Butcher sarcastically remarked, “Hello to you too, baby,” as he removed his coat. “I have not even once heard a complaint from her; she is an incredible Supe. She can't possibly be exhausted, right, doll?”

Ben moved you over to the edge of the coach and sat by you, resting his legs on the table, just as you were about to strike up a conversation with Kimiko. You were fine with him being close, though, so you said nothing at all. In fact, if you were honest with yourself enough, you would admit that his behavior around you somewhat comforted you. 

“Kimiko and I have spent days looking for Black Noir and Queen Maeve, but we haven't made any progress so far. It's strange that they were absent from everything for so long. You see, something isn't quite right. According to Starlight, they have vanished.”

“The fuck you mean they are missing?” Butcher asked in disbelief.

“Why would Noir would go missing? It's not his thing to disappear,” you said. You thought you were thinking to yourself, but you had said it loud.

“He must have ran away when he saw us back together,” Ben said in am amused tone. “He fucking knows I'm going to kill him too. He’s a fucking dead man.”

You told Ben, “There must be a reason,” ignoring the way he talked about taking Earving's life. Right now, you don't need to see Ben being enraged over Noir and losing his temper again. 

“How the fuck doesn't Starlight know where Queen Maeve is?” Butcher questioned Hughie. 

Hughie took his head in his hands and responded, “She thinks Homelander did something to her. Maybe he killed Maeve.”

“How about Ninja Cunt, though? He is known as Homelander's right wing. Suppose he murdered Maeve. What about Noir?”

Frenchie remarked, “That's what I'm trying to understand,” and Kimiko communicated with him using sign language swiftly. 

“All right, we'll watch out for this and see if he shows up again.” Butcher ended it quickly and continued. “Tomorrow, Soldier Boy and I are heading to New York.”

You eyed Butcher with suspicion, asking, “Why and why not me?” 

“You two stayed at a lovely house for a week, for God’s sake. Aren't all of the showers enough? Is it not possible for you to separate for even a single day? Would you really miss this cunt that much?”

As Butcher continued to make assumptions about you and Ben, your face heated. Kimiko and Frenchie turned to face you in harmony, taken aback. 

“You're just making the wrong assumptions.” You distanced yourself from Ben and explained, “It's not like that,” acting as though you had been proven guilty. Ben didn't appear to be supportive when you stared at him, yet it seemed as though he was okay with Butcher's comments. “What I want to know is what you're going to be doing here and why I have to stay here.”

“Yes, doll. To catch up with your old friend TNT Twins, we are going to join Herogasm. It's almost like we have to clear your names first. Maybe they know anything about the specifics of those events from decades ago, and they could say something that we could use against Vought. Though things might get messy soon, don't you worry, I'm going to keep an eye on your soldier so that he won't be pouding into any supe cunt there,” he said with a wicked smile.

Ben said, “Maybe we can also find a thing about Mindstorm there,” giving you a meaningful glance and a small touch on the arm before you could respond. You nodded to him. 

“However, why must I stay here?”

“Kimiko needs to get some work done, and we need more muscle to help Frenchie and Hughie here. Let's don't take too much attention.”

“Okay,” you said, acknowledging the situation and giving up on further arguments. Herogasm was something you've always detested and loathed. Ben, the founder of it, was making it even worse. Yet the one thing about Ben's inconsistent anger—the energy in his chest—that scared you was his unpredictable temper. You weren't sure if he could find a way to control it soon enough. 

You questioned Hughie, “By the way, where is Annie?” As a member of Vought and Seven, you were aware of how difficult it must be to handle the entire company's evil by yourself. 

“I don't think she'll find Maeve anytime soon, but she's doing some research in order to locate her. She seemed to have disappeared in a heartbeat.”

You figured she was kind of involved in this too, based on the way they talked about her. 

Ben abruptly stood up and stated, “I guess all the rooms are full. So, which room are Y/N and I staying in tonight?”

“Not full,” Hughie smiled in response. “I suppose there are now two available rooms since I will be seeing Annie tonight.” 

Kimiko nodded quickly as she gave a smile to you.

Ben's expression darkened as Hughie continued to tell him and Annie that they would not be staying in this house any longer, while Ben quietly cursed. He glanced at you for a moment, but you ignored him and asked Kimiko to show you the room where you would be sleeping. 

After an hour of inspecting the room and all of the furniture within, you heard a light knock on the door and knew it was Ben.

After a minute, you said, “Come in,” startled that Ben was holding back, opening the door this time without your permission. 

He whispered, “As you wish, baby,” and carefully shut the door behind him. 

In the dim light, his hair fell over his forehead, and his white t-shirt made your heart melt just a bit. Under his large arms, his t-shirt was too tight. Perhaps you weren't used to seeing him in his regular clothes, which is why you were still excited when you were around him. 

“What now?” you muttered as you sat on the bed and observed him approach you. 

He joked, “Don't get excited; I'm just here to make some conversation,” and sat down next to you right away. 

You said, almost in a whisper, “Which is about?” while he briefly studied your body.

His darkened eyes lingered on your revealing nightgown, but you remained silent, intensifying the tension in the moment. 

Ben's desire to force your body to the covers, get on top of you, take off your sweatpants, and get you ready for some post-breakup fucking was unbearable. He was well aware that you never touched yourself when you were by yourself in the house, and that really disturbed him because he knew that he was the reason for it. Ben could tell by the way you looked at him and by the beating in your heart that your body still yearned for him, but he also understood that he had to rebuild your trust in every way. He had to take care of his meat by hand up until that point. 

After sighing and searching for the right words, Ben uttered, “About the thing I told you that we can discuss later.” He made an effort not to speak about Crimson bitch right away. She was the reason your nerves were already fragile. He had no reason to blame you for it. 

As he attempted to read how you were feeling, you questioned in a cold voice, “Why did you kill her? Was it unintentional?” 

You were curious as to whether he truly intended to murder her or if this was just another unintentional incident similar to the others. You needed to comprehend it, even though you didn't know why it mattered. 

After a while, he said, “I blew up,” and when you realized he hadn't done it on purpose to exact vengeance for you, your posture straightened. 

Ben said, “I was just trying to get information about you and your location before killing her,” as soon as he saw the look on your face. “I was cautious to do anything until she had spoken about you. But I was unable to control myself when she touched my nerves.”

“Did you kill her just because she was unfaithful?” You questioned him suspiciously, attempting to make sense of his motivations. Ben might tell you the truth or a lie, but you would still listen to him even if you weren't sure he would be completely honest with you. “In the end, it's her who deceived you. Whether Vought commanded her or not is important. She was the one who brought you there so they could capture you and then transport you to Russia.”

After pausing to comprehend what you were asking, Ben responded, “I would kill her anyway because of what she had done to both of us,” as if he had no idea how to answer properly. “Especially to you.” 

You said, your eyes softening with sorrow, “I wonder what you would do to me if I were the one to trick you, Ben,” knowing that, after all these years, loyalty was what mattered most to him. “Even if I had every right to do so.” 

“I would never hurt you,” he abruptly rejected, emphasizing each word in a hard voice. “I knew I would deserve it anyway.”

“I'm not so sure of that, Ben,” you said. “You're even more dangerous considering I'm getting weaker and you're ready to blow up anytime.” 

His smile expanding, he added, “Hey, don't say such things,” took one of your hands, placed it on his warm chest, and whispered, “You have every power over me.”

Under his focused gaze, your face flushed, and after a moment, you reluctantly withdrew your hand. 

“So, you're going to Herogasm tomorrow?” you said, attempting to change the topic. “Given how difficult it was to persuade you not to join decades earlier, you must have missed it quite a lot.” 

“Are you feeling jeaolus?” he asked with a mischievous smile, and you grimaced. 

“Why should I be? I'm just saying you might have missed the chance to join the party that you organized after all this time.”

“I'm not going there to fuck, baby; I'm not interested anymore,” he murmured, retaining an arrogant chuckle. “I'm going to call you when I get there.”

“I'm not sure.” You said to quit talking about Herogasm anymore. “I might be busy to pick up when you call.” Herogasm was the world's dumbest thing, especially since Ben founded it. 

“Why may be you even busy, anyway?” This time Ben uttered serious words: “I'll call you nonstop, so keep your phone with you every moment.”

You responded with the same heedlessness, “I might.” 

Ben smiled playfully and narrowed his eyes. “Since you too need to take care of yourself, it will actually be good for us to be apart for just a small amount of time.”

You naively asked, “About what?” as though he would make a crucial point. 

“You might as well relax on this bed while I'm away because I’m pretty aware of you're not touching yourself, knowing I'd hear you in a second, huh?”

You became the deepest shade of scarlet in your cheeks and murmured, “I can't believe you.”

“I'm not making fun,” he declared with seriousness. “It is also a bodily necessity. You don't have to reject playing with yourself a bit. Being the reason is something that irritates me a lot.”

“I don't feel ashamed of taking care of myself because of you or anything else,” you immediately argued, ignoring the heat on your cheeks. “I have no problem touching myself while you're here. It's not all that important.” 

Ben arched an eyebrow at your quick, brave, “If you say so,” followed by a sigh. 

“I'm serious here, Ben,” you continued, growing agitated by his haughty demeanor and enormous ego. “I'll prove it.”

He studied your figure and growled in a low voice, “I won't promise that I won't focus on you or listen to the way you sound.”

“Then don't.”

Next Chapter

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A/N: Comments and reblogs are appreciated very much.  They keep me going. ♡˚.

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[lila-lou]

✨His second exception - Pt. 31/?✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, FLUFF

Word Count: 6981

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 31 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙

Your mom and dad had been quietly watching from across the room, but now they couldn’t resist chiming in. Your dad, leaning back in his chair with a knowing grin, was the first to speak.

“Well”, he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “Look at this. The mighty Soldier Boy, the man who could take on armies single-handedly, now sitting here feeding a little baby girl. Never thought I’d see the day”.

Ben glanced up from Aria, his green eyes narrowing slightly as his smirk turned sharp. “You got something to say, old man?”, he shot back, though his tone carried more humor than heat. “’Cause I can still take you in five seconds flat”.

Your dad raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just saying. Big change from the guy who used to storm into rooms and bark orders like he owned the place”.

You couldn’t help but join in, the warmth of the moment giving you just enough energy to speak up. “Oh, come on, Dad”, you said, your voice soft but teasing. “He still storms into rooms and barks orders. Now he just does it with a baby bottle in his hand”.

Ben turned his sharp green eyes on you, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”, he asked, his tone flat but tinged with humor. “You’re fucking ganging up on me now?”.

You grinned weakly, resting your head back against the pillows. “What can I say? You’re too easy to tease”.

Your mom, never one to miss an opportunity, chimed in. “She’s right. You’ve got that whole tough-guy act going, but look at you now. Feeding a baby with more concentration than I’ve ever seen you give anything else”.

Ben scoffed, his smirk returning as he glanced down at Aria, who had slowed her feeding, her tiny fingers brushing against his hand. “This is more important than anything else I’ve ever done”, he said simply, his voice low but firm. “Doesn’t mean I won’t put you all in your place if you keep running your mouths”.

Your dad laughed, shaking his head. “You’re outnumbered, Ben”, he said with a grin. “You might as well just take it”.

“Oh, I’m taking it”, Ben muttered, adjusting the bottle slightly as Aria squirmed in his arms. “But don’t forget, I’ve got the kid. That means I’ve got all the leverage”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, your tired body shaking slightly. “You’re really using our baby as leverage?”.

Ben smirked, finally glancing up at you, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “Damn right I am”, he said. “And it’s working”.

Your mom shook her head, though she was smiling as she leaned back in her chair. “Unbelievable”, she muttered, though the affection in her voice was unmistakable. “You know, for all your bluster, you’re doing a pretty good job”.

Ben’s expression softened slightly as he looked back down at Aria, her tiny body cradled securely in his large hands. “Yeah, well”, he said gruffly, his voice quieter now. “Not like I’m gonna let her down”.

The teasing paused for a moment, the atmosphere shifting into something softer, more tender. You reached out weakly, your hand brushing against Ben’s arm. “You won’t”, you whispered, your voice full of quiet conviction. “You’re already her hero”.

Ben’s smirk faded as he glanced back down at Aria, his green eyes clouding with something heavier. He shifted slightly, adjusting her tiny frame in his arms, and you saw his jaw tighten for a moment before he muttered, almost too quietly, “I hope it stays that way”.

The weight of his words lingered in the air, cutting through the teasing warmth from earlier. You knew what he meant, even if he didn’t say it outright. Ben carried the shadows of his past with him, the weight of every mistake, every regret. Now, holding Aria in his arms, the stakes felt higher than anything he’d ever faced before.

“It will”, you said softly, your hand still resting on his arm. “Ben, look at her. She already adores you”.

Ben’s lips twitched, the heaviness in his eyes retreating as he quickly composed himself. “Yeah”, he muttered, his voice gruff but edged with his usual dry humor. “That’s ‘cause I feed her. Same with you. Give a woman a little attention and some snacks, and she’s all putty”.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you nudged his arm weakly. “Oh, is that how it works? All this time, you’ve been keeping me around with snacks?”.

Ben shrugged, smirking now as he glanced at you, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “Don’t act like it’s not true. Toss you a bag of chips, rub your feet for five minutes, and suddenly I’m your favorite person”.

Your dad snorted from his chair, shaking his head as he leaned back. “Sounds about right”, he said with a grin, clearly enjoying the banter. “Though I wouldn’t go throwing that strategy around too much, Ben. Works on my daughter, but not everyone’s that easy”.

“Who said I’m looking for it to work on anyone else?”, Ben shot back smoothly, adjusting Aria in his arms as she began to squirm. “Got my hands full already”.

"You better”, you murmured, your voice soft but teasing as you leaned over and pressed a light kiss to his biceps. The gesture was small, but it carried all the affection you couldn’t quite put into words at the moment.

Ben raised an eyebrow, glancing down at where your lips had just been before looking back at you, his smirk widening into something more cocky. “Oh, so now we’re kissing the muscles?”, he drawled, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “Didn’t think I needed the snacks after all”.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “Don’t let it go to your head, tough guy. It’s a one-time deal”.

“Sure it is”, he shot back, his tone as smooth as ever. “Let me guess—next time you’ll be asking me to… flex”.

Your dad groaned loudly, leaning back in his chair. “Can you two not?”, he said, though his grin betrayed his amusement. “We’re right here, you know”.

Your mom chuckled softly, shaking her head as she moved to check on the blanket around Aria. “Oh, let them have their moment”, she said lightly, her voice full of affection. “It’s not every day you see Ben being soft”.

Ben’s smirk faded just slightly, and he glanced down at Aria, her tiny body nestled against him. His hand moved instinctively to adjust her position, his large fingers brushing against her cheek with a tenderness that seemed almost out of place for someone like him.

“Not soft”, he muttered under his breath, his tone gruff but quiet. “Just… doing what needs to be done”.

A week later, the day you’d been waiting for finally arrived—you were allowed to go home. The hospital’s walls, though safe, had started to feel suffocating, and the thought of being back in your own space brought a mix of relief and excitement. The extra doses of V in your system had done their job, leaving you feeling stronger, though you were still told to take it easy and rest as much as possible. Ben, of course, had taken that advice to heart—perhaps too much.

As you stood outside the hospital, the crisp air brushing against your face, Ben hovered close. He carried Aria’s car seat in one hand, her tiny body snug inside and wrapped in the soft blanket your mom had brought. She was dressed in the onesie Ben had insisted on—Daddy’s Little Soldier scrawled across the front in bold letters. It was equal parts adorable and hilariously on-brand for him.

With his other hand, Ben steadied you, his grip firm but not overbearing. “Take it slow”, he muttered, his green eyes scanning your face like he was waiting for you to wobble or stumble. “Last thing we need is you fucking face-planting before we even get to the car”.

You rolled your eyes, though the corners of your mouth twitched into a smile. “I’m fine, Ben. I can walk, you know”.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your attempt at downplaying things. “Sure you can”, he said dryly. “Until you can’t. Humor me, sweetheart”.

You let out a soft laugh, leaning into his steady presence as you made your way to the car. The last week had been a whirlwind of checkups, adjustments, and learning how to navigate this new chapter of your lives. Both you and Aria had appointments lined up for the coming weeks—Dr. Collins wanted to monitor you closely—but for today, all that mattered was getting home.

Ben carefully secured Aria’s car seat in the back, double-checking every strap and latch like it was a bomb he was defusing. “She’s good”, he muttered after a final tug on the seatbelt. Then he turned back to you, his hand on your back as he guided you toward the passenger seat. “Alright, your turn”.

You slid into the seat carefully, watching as he shut the door with one last glance at you, his expression unreadable. By the time he climbed into the driver’s seat, he seemed a little more relaxed, though his hand still rested protectively on the center console as if he needed to stay connected to you somehow.

The drive home was quiet, the hum of the car engine and Aria’s soft breaths filling the space. You glanced back at her occasionally, your heart swelling every time you saw her tiny face nestled in the seat. Ben caught you looking in the rearview mirror and smirked. “Told you”, he said, his tone smug. “She’s got that effect”.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, the sight of home made you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Ben got out first, unbuckling Aria with the same care he’d used earlier. He carried her in one hand, her car seat swinging slightly as he reached out to steady you with the other.

As you walked toward the door together, a warm sense of peace settled over you. It wasn’t going to be easy—between the constant monitoring, the sleepless nights, and your slow recovery, you knew challenges lay ahead. But standing there with Ben at your side, steady as always, and Aria cradled in his strong arms, you felt ready to face whatever came next.

“Welcome home, chicken”, Ben murmured as he stepped inside, glancing down at Aria with a faint smirk. Then, without missing a beat, he looked at you. “You too, sweetheart”.

Ben gently placed the car seat on the table, his movements careful yet efficient. Without missing a beat, he leaned over and unfastened the straps, muttering something under his breath about “overcomplicated baby gear”. In one swift motion, he scooped Aria up, her tiny body practically disappearing against his broad chest as he cradled her securely in his massive hands.

Her head rested just below his chin, and he instinctively adjusted the blanket around her, ensuring she was covered and snug. From where you sat, it was hard not to smile at the sight—Ben, the man who used to intimidate everyone in his path, now completely wrapped up in this impossibly tiny person.

“She’s barely visible”, you teased softly, watching him fuss over her like he’d been doing it for years. “It’s like you’re holding a little bird”.

“Yeah, well, this bird’s got some issues”, he grumbled, his tone low but tinged with affection. He shifted her slightly, trying to adjust her scrunched-up legs. “Look at these”, he muttered, his large hand carefully nudging at her tiny feet. “I keep trying to straighten them out, but no—she just folds ‘em right back up”.

You laughed softly, the sound warming the room. “She’s comfortable like that”, you said, leaning back against the cushions. “She spent months curled up inside me. It’s natural”.

Ben raised an eyebrow, glancing down at Aria’s legs as she wriggled slightly, pulling them back into that familiar scrunched-up position. “Natural, huh?”, he said, his tone laced with mock skepticism. “Looks like a lazy workout to me. She’s gonna need to start stretching eventually. Can’t walk around like this forever”.

“She’s a newborn, Ben”, you said, shaking your head with amusement. “She’s got time before she starts walking”.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t get her started early”, he shot back, his smirk widening as he carefully rocked her against his chest. “Discipline, sweetheart. Starts young”.

Aria let out a soft little coo, her tiny fists brushing against his chest, and Ben’s smirk softened instantly. His hand came up to cup her head, his thumb brushing lightly over her soft hair. “Alright, fine”, he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You can keep the legs. For now… chicken”.

Ben held Aria close, her tiny head resting snugly against his chest as he began to slowly walk through the house. His steps were steady and purposeful, like he was showing her around his kingdom. One of his large hands supported her completely, her little body barely taking up any space in his grasp.

“Alright”, he muttered, his tone gruff but oddly gentle, “let’s give you the grand tour. Don’t say I never taught you anything”.

You watched from the couch, a soft smile spreading across your face as Ben moved into the living room first. He glanced down at Aria, as though she was fully capable of understanding him, and gestured toward the room with his free hand.

“This is where your mom makes me watch her boring shows”, he said, his voice carrying that familiar mix of affection and teasing. “But don’t worry, I’ll get you into the classics. Stuff that actually matters. None of that soap opera garbage”.

He moved over to the fireplace, pointing it out with a slight nod. “And this? That’s a fireplace. Not much use for it, but it looks good. One day, I’ll teach you how to build a real fire. Just don’t try it without me, alright? Don’t need you burning the place down”.

Aria let out a tiny coo, her hands twitching against his chest, and Ben’s smirk softened slightly. “Yeah, I get it. Fire’s exciting. But it’s a dad job. Got it?”.

He moved into the kitchen next, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone as he glanced around. “Now, this is where the magic happens”, he said, shifting her slightly so she could ‘see’ the counters and appliances. “When I say magic, I mean snacks. Real snacks, not the mush you’re stuck with for now”.

Ben smirked as he shifted Aria slightly in his arms, his green eyes flicking to you lounging on the couch. “Now, your mom makes some pretty good food”, he began, his tone casual, but that mischievous glint in his eyes warned you he was about to say something completely inappropriate. “Well, at least when I’ve made sure she’s in a really good mood, you know… like after I’ve—”.

“Ben!”, you interrupted sharply, your cheeks instantly heating as you glared at him. “Not in front of Aria!”.

Ben rolled his eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh as he adjusted Aria in his arms, her tiny form cradled carefully against his chest. “If it starts like this”, he muttered, his voice dripping with mock misery, “I’m gonna have a fucking boring life now. No making out, no sex, no dirty—”.

Before he could finish, you grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at his back with surprising accuracy. The soft thud interrupted him mid-sentence, and he froze for a moment before slowly turning his head to look at you, one eyebrow raised.

“Really?”, he drawled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re resorting to violence now?”.

“You deserved it”, you shot back, trying to look stern despite the grin tugging at your lips. “You can’t just say stuff like that with her right there!”.

Ben chuckled, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to Aria. “Relax, sweetheart”, he said, his tone light and teasing. “She doesn’t even know what I’m saying. Right now, she’s just focused on staying warm and waiting for her next bottle”.

You crossed your arms, still glaring at him half-heartedly. “Still, it’s the principle of the thing. And besides, I don’t want her first words to be one of your… colorful phrases”.

Ben let out a low laugh, rocking Aria slightly in his arms as she let out a soft coo. “Fine”, he said, smirking down at her. “Guess I’ll have to keep it PG, at least for now. Don’t want the chicken getting any bad habits too early”.

You couldn’t help but smile despite yourself, watching the way he cradled her with such care, his massive hands dwarfing her tiny form. “You’re impossible, you know that?”, you muttered, though your voice was full of affection.

“And yet”, Ben replied, shooting you a cocky grin, “you still keep me around. Must be doing something right”.

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you leaned back against the cushions. Despite his teasing and his larger-than-life personality, moments like this reminded you why you loved him—because beneath all of it, he was completely devoted to you and your daughter. Even if he couldn’t resist being a smartass about it.

Ben, still smirking, adjusted Aria in his arms and stood up straighter, resuming his slow tour of the house. “Alright”, he muttered, his voice full of mock authority, “let’s get back to it. Your mom’s already trying to ruin the fun, but I’ve got plenty more to show you”.

He started toward the hallway, his large frame moving with surprising gentleness to keep Aria comfortable. “This”, he said, pointing to the hallway closet, “is where we keep all the boring stuff. Towels, blankets, random crap your mom insists we need but never actually uses. Don’t worry about this place; you’ll have no reason to come here unless you’re hiding from me because you broke something”.

You let out a laugh from the couch. “Ben, she’s a baby, not a teenager. And I don’t hoard random crap”.

He glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve got six throw blankets in there. Who needs six throw blankets? What are we, a Bed Bath & Beyond?”.

You sighed, shaking your head but smiling nonetheless as he turned back to Aria.

Ben moved into the bathroom next, gesturing grandly at the space as though it were some kind of palace. “This is the bathroom”, he said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “The one place in this house where I can pretend to get some peace. But don’t worry, I know you’re gonna ruin that soon enough with bath toys and splashing everywhere. It’s fine. I’ll allow it”.

Aria let out a tiny sound, her little fists brushing against his chest, and Ben’s smirk softened. “See? She’s already planning it”, he muttered, rocking her gently. “It’s a mutiny in the making”.

When he moved into the nursery, his pace slowed slightly, and his voice dropped to something quieter, almost reverent. “And this”, he murmured, stepping inside, “is your room”.

Ben stepped further into the nursery, his eyes scanning the soft pastels and delicate decorations you’d worked so hard to perfect. He let out a long, dramatic sigh, shifting Aria slightly against his chest as he muttered, “You’re definitely not the boy I was hoping for, so I bet soon enough everything in here’s gonna be fucking pink”.

Without thinking, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her tiny head, his lips brushing over the soft, dark hair that barely covered her scalp. The touch was so light, so careful, like he was afraid to break her.

Aria reacted instantly, scrunching up her face and letting out a series of funny little noises—somewhere between a squeak and a grunt. Ben froze, his green eyes widening slightly as he looked down at her.

Then, he snorted, a rare, genuine laugh slipping out as he stared down at Aria. “What the hell was that?”, he muttered, his green eyes narrowing playfully as he adjusted her in his arms. “Did you just grunt at me, chicken? You trying to tell me something?”.

Aria squirmed again, letting out another little noise, her tiny fists flailing for a moment before settling back against his chest. Ben smirked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Unbelievable”, he muttered, his tone dripping with amusement. “Not even a month old, and already got opinions”.

From the doorway, you watched the scene unfold, a soft smile tugging at your lips. Slowly, you stepped into the room, your movements careful but deliberate as you made your way toward them. “What’s going on in here?”, you asked gently, your voice light and teasing. “Is she giving you a hard time already?”.

Ben glanced up at you, his smirk widening as he met your eyes. “You didn’t tell me she made noises like that”, he said, jerking his chin toward Aria. “She’s got this little grunt thing going on. Sounds like she’s trying to talk, but all she’s got is… whatever that was”.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you moved closer. “She’s just figuring out how to use her voice”, you said, leaning against the edge of the crib for support. “She’s probably trying to tell you she doesn’t appreciate being called a chicken”.

Ben raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning mischievous. “Oh, no, she loves it. Don’t you, chicken?”. He kissed her head again, and Aria let out another funny little grunt, making him snort. “See? That’s her way of agreeing with me”.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?”.

“Damn right I do”, Ben replied, shifting Aria slightly so she was cradled more securely in his arms. “And right now, the answer is that this kid’s already got some serious attitude. Wonder where she gets it from”.

You smirked, crossing your arms as you leaned a little closer to him. “Oh, I have a pretty good idea”, you teased. “But I don’t think it’s from me”.

Without warning, his free hand shot out, giving your ass a quick, playful pinch.

“Hey!”, you yelped, jumping slightly, though the corners of your mouth twitched with amusement.

He raised an eyebrow, his green eyes glinting with mischief as he muttered, “Why aren’t you all cozy on the couch, like the doc told you?”.

You rolled your eyes, swatting at his hand half-heartedly. “Because I wanted to see what you were up to”, you shot back, though your voice was softened by the affection you couldn’t quite hide. “Someone’s gotta make sure you’re not teaching her bad habits already”.

Ben snorted, glancing down at Aria as she let out another tiny grunt, her little face scrunching up. “Bad habits?”, he repeated, his tone dripping with mock offense. “This kid’s got nothing but good habits so far. She eats, sleeps, and grunts. Perfect little soldier in the making”.

You shook your head, leaning against the edge of the crib for support. “She’s a baby, not a recruit”.

“She can be both”, Ben quipped, his smirk turning cocky. “Gotta start her early. Discipline, structure, and—”. He paused as Aria squirmed in his arms again, making another funny noise. “And apparently, opinions. You’ve got a lot to say, huh, chicken?”.

You smiled, watching the way he cradled her so effortlessly despite his teasing demeanor. “You know”, you said softly, “you’re a lot better at this than you give yourself credit for”.

Ben glanced at you, his expression softening for a moment before he shrugged. “Yeah, well”, he muttered, “you’re not making it easy to slack off. Always watching me like a hawk”.

“That’s my job”, you teased, reaching out to brush your fingers lightly against Aria’s tiny hand. “Just like it’s your job to make sure I actually rest”.

Ben smirked again, stepping closer and tilting his head slightly. “Then get your ass back to the couch”, he said, his voice low but full of amusement. “I’m not carrying both of you if you pass out”.

“Bossy”, you muttered, but you turned to head back to the couch, a small smile still tugging at your lips as you felt his gaze follow you the whole way.

As the evening settled in, the moment arrived for Aria’s first bath. You sat on the small bench next to the bathtub, watching as Ben crouched by the tub, his large hands fumbling with the tiny buttons and snaps of Aria’s onesie. The bathroom was warm—too warm, thanks to the extra steam from the hot water—and you noticed beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead as he worked.

Aria, of course, wasn’t making it easy. Her scrunched-up legs were once again causing problems, folding up tightly every time Ben tried to stretch them out to get her undressed. He huffed under his breath, his green eyes narrowing as though trying to out-stubborn her.

“Come on, chicken”, he muttered, his voice low but strained. “You’re not making this easy. What’s with the damn legs? Just… cooperate for once”.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your smile growing as you watched him struggle. “I didn’t know supes could sweat like this”, you teased, leaning forward slightly to get a better view of his efforts. “You okay there, tough guy? Need me to grab you a towel?”.

Ben shot you a glare, though it was more playful than threatening. “It’s hot as hell in here”, he grumbled, finally managing to undo the last snap. “And this kid’s got more fight in her than half the cocksucker I’ve gone up against”.

You bit back a laugh, watching as he carefully peeled the onesie off of Aria, her tiny body wriggling slightly as she let out a soft coo. “She’s just testing you”, you said, leaning back against the wall. “Making sure her dad can handle the tough stuff”.

Ben snorted, tossing the tiny onesie into the laundry pile before cradling Aria in his hands. “Tough stuff”, he muttered, glancing at her scrunched-up legs as though they were mocking him.

Aria let out a tiny squeak, her fists flailing slightly, and you couldn’t hold back your laughter this time. “You’re doing fine”, you said reassuringly.

Ben carefully lowered Aria into the warm water, his hands cradling her tiny body with surprising gentleness. The moment her skin touched the water, she let out a soft coo, her little fists waving in the air as though testing this new sensation.

But almost immediately, Ben let out a frustrated grumble, his brows furrowing. “Why the hell is she so slippery?”, he muttered, trying to keep a steady grip on her. “It’s like trying to hold onto a bar of soap”.

You bit back a laugh, watching as his large hands adjusted awkwardly to keep Aria secure. “She’s got soft skin. Add water, and yeah, she’s going to be slippery”, you said, your voice full of amusement

Ben narrowed his eyes at you, clearly not appreciating the humor in the situation. “No one warned me about this”, he grumbled, his tone edged with irritation. “They just said, ‘Oh, give her a bath, it’ll be fine’. Didn’t say a damn word about her turning into a little greased-up chicken”.

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing, the sound filling the warm bathroom as you watched him struggle. “Greased-up chicken?”, you echoed, wiping a tear from your eye. “Ben, you’ve fought villains, survived explosions, and dealt with God knows what else. And now you’re losing to a baby in a bathtub?”.

Ben’s green eyes snapped to yours, his glare sharp but tinged with amusement. “I’m not losing”, he shot back, though his hands shifted again as Aria squirmed slightly in the water. “I’m just… figuring it out. She’s squirmier than I expected”.

Aria let out a tiny hiccup of a sound, her legs kicking slightly against the water, splashing a bit onto Ben’s shirt. He groaned, glaring down at her. “See? Slippery and messy”, he muttered. “You’re a lot of work for someone who doesn’t even pay rent”.

“She’s your daughter”, you teased, still grinning. “You signed up for this”.

Ben sighed dramatically, one hand gently supporting Aria’s back while the other carefully poured a little water over her head with a washcloth. “Yeah, yeah”, he muttered, his tone softening as he focused on her again. “Guess I did”.

You watched as his expression shifted, the irritation melting away as he gently wiped her tiny face with the cloth, his large hands so careful it was almost mesmerizing. Despite all his grumbling, there was a tenderness in the way he handled her—a rare side of Ben that you knew was reserved for the two of you.

Eventually, the chaos of the evening began to wind down. Aria, freshly bathed and swaddled in her soft blanket, had finally drifted off to sleep. You and Ben made your way to the couch, exhaustion tugging at both of you. Ben collapsed onto the cushions with a heavy sigh, his arm slung over the back of the couch as though he’d just fought a battle—which, in a way, he had.

You nestled beside him, your body fitting perfectly into his side as his arm instinctively wrapped around your shoulders. Aria rested on your chest, her tiny body curled up and her soft breaths barely audible. She looked utterly peaceful, completely unaware of the exhaustion she’d inflicted on both of you.

Ben tilted his head back against the couch, letting out a long exhale as his eyes closed for a moment. “That kid’s got more energy than I thought was possible for something that tiny”, he muttered, his voice low and gravelly.

You chuckled softly, leaning into him as your fingers brushed over Aria’s blanket. “She wore you out, didn’t she?”, you teased, glancing up at him with a small smile. “Mighty Soldier Boy, taken down by a four-pound baby”.

Ben let out a low, tired chuckle, his lips twitching into a faint smirk even as his eyes remained closed. “I’m so tired I won’t even fight you on that right now”, he muttered, his voice gruff but tinged with affection. He tilted his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You win. Congratulations”.

You smiled, your heart swelling at the rare moment of vulnerability he allowed himself. Leaning into him, you let out a soft sigh, your voice dropping to a near whisper. “Thank you”.

His eyes cracked open, and he glanced down at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “For what?”, he asked, his tone curious but still laced with exhaustion.

“For everything”, you said simply, your fingers brushing over Aria’s tiny hand where it peeked out from the blanket. “For being here. For taking care of us. For… being you”.

Ben didn’t respond immediately, his green eyes studying your face like he was trying to figure out what to say. Finally, he shook his head slightly, his smirk returning, though it was softer this time. “Don’t get all fucking sappy on me now”, he muttered, though his hand tightened slightly around your shoulder, pulling you closer.

You ignored his teasing, your gaze steady as you whispered, “I love you, Ben”.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then, his hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “Yeah”, he said softly, his voice unusually gentle. “I love you too”.

The words, so simple but so weighty coming from him, settled between you like an anchor, grounding you in the moment. You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing as Aria shifted slightly in her sleep, a soft sigh escaping her tiny lips.

As the quiet of the evening wrapped around you, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t experienced in months. Despite the chaos, the exhaustion, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead, you knew one thing for sure: you were exactly where you were meant to be—with Ben and Aria, tangled together on the couch, your little family whole and complete.

Another week passed, and with it came the small victories that felt monumental after everything you’d been through. At just two weeks old, Aria was thriving, and you were finally starting to feel like yourself again—though not entirely. You were allowed to take on little tasks now, like showering by yourself and even changing Aria’s diaper, but Ben kept a close watch, ensuring you didn’t overdo it.

It was barely three in the morning when Aria’s cries echoed through the bedroom, pulling you from a light, restless sleep. Her wails were sharp and insistent, the unmistakable demand of a newborn needing something now.

You stirred, your body still heavy with exhaustion but far stronger than it had been days ago. Instinctively, you moved to sit up, but before you could even swing your legs over the side of the bed, Ben was already on his feet.

“I’ve got it”, he muttered, his voice rough with sleep as he rubbed a hand over his face. His green eyes were bleary, but his movements were steady as he crossed the room to the bassinet where Aria lay squirming and crying.

“Ben, I can—”, you began, but he shot you a look over his shoulder, one eyebrow arched in a way that silenced you instantly.

“Don’t start”, he said gruffly, leaning down to scoop Aria up with practiced ease. “You’re still on light duty. Stay fucking put”.

You sighed, sinking back against the pillows as you watched him cradle Aria against his chest. She was still crying, her tiny fists flailing as Ben swayed slightly, his large hand patting her back in a rhythm that was becoming second nature to him.

“Alright, chicken”, he murmured, his voice softer now as he paced slowly across the room. “What’s the deal this time? Hungry? Wet? Or just in the mood to torture me?”.

Despite your exhaustion, you smiled at the sight of him—shirtless, his hair mussed from sleep, and his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and adoration as he comforted your daughter. It was a side of him you never thought you’d see, and it made your heart swell every time.

“She probably needs a diaper change”, you said softly, your voice breaking the quiet hum of the moment.

Ben let out a low sigh, glancing down at the squirming bundle in his arms. “Of course she does”, he muttered. “Kid’s got perfect timing”.

He carried Aria over to the changing table, his movements surprisingly fluid for someone who looked like he’d barely slept in days. You couldn’t help but watch as he carefully laid her down, his large hands working with more patience than you’d ever seen from him.

“She’s lucky I’m a quick learner”, he grumbled, unfastening her tiny onesie with deft fingers. “I could’ve left all this to you, you know. But no, I’m here, in the trenches, dealing with the fucking chaos”.

“You love it”, you teased, your smile widening as you rested your head against the headboard.

Ben glanced at you, his smirk returning briefly before he turned back to Aria. “Yeah", he muttered under his breath, his voice so low you almost didn’t hear it. “Maybe I do”.

As he worked, Aria’s cries began to fade, replaced by soft little hiccups and whimpers. By the time he’d finished changing her, she was calm, her wide eyes blinking up at him as though she was sizing him up.

Ben picked her up again, cradling her against his chest as he walked back toward the bed. “There”, he said, his voice a mix of satisfaction and weariness. “Crisis averted. For now”.

You held out your arms, silently asking to hold her, and Ben hesitated for a moment before carefully placing her in your lap. “You sure you’re good?”, he asked, his tone serious despite the softness in his eyes.

You nodded, cradling Aria close as you brushed a kiss against her tiny forehead. “I’m good”, you said softly.

Ben had barely let his eyes close, his body finally relaxing into the bed, when the sound of Aria sucking on her pacifier like her life depended on it filled the room. The soft, rhythmic noise was unmistakable and persistent, her tiny mouth working furiously as though trying to send a very clear signal.

His eyes opened slowly, a low groan escaping him as he turned his head toward you and Aria. “She’s at it again”, he muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion. “What’s the deal this time?”.

You shifted slightly in bed, cradling Aria closer as you glanced down at her. Even in the dim light, you could see her little fists clenching, her face scrunching up as she worked the pacifier. “She’s hungry”, you murmured, already knowing the routine. “It’s time”.

Ben’s brow furrowed, but he sat up a little, glancing at you. “You sure you’re good for this? You just started back up yesterday. I can grab a bottle if you need me to”.

You smiled softly, touched by his concern, even as your body still felt the pull of exhaustion. “I’m okay”, you said quietly. “The doctor said nights are the best time for this. Less moving around for me”.

Ben still looked unconvinced, his green eyes scanning your face for any sign of strain. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “Fine”, he said gruffly, though his tone carried a thread of warmth.

You carefully adjusted yourself, pulling down your bra with practiced movements, and gently guided Aria toward you. The instant she latched on, her tiny body relaxed, and the urgent sucking noises filled the quiet room. You exhaled softly, the familiar but still slightly uncomfortable sensation making you wince for just a moment.

Ben, sitting up beside you, watched the scene with a lazy smirk spreading across his face. His green eyes glinted in the dim light, and you knew exactly what was coming before he even opened his mouth.

“Well”, he drawled, leaning back against the headboard with a smug expression, “if I’d known that’s how it works, I would’ve cried louder”.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t suppress the small laugh that bubbled out of you. “Ben”, you said, your tone half-scolding but mostly amused. “Really?”.

“What?”, he said, feigning innocence as his smirk widened. “I’m just saying, if I make the same noises, maybe I get the same treatment”.

"Oh shut up”, you grumbled, shooting Ben a halfhearted glare as you tried to focus on Aria. The smirk on his face only widened, and he let out a low snort of amusement.

“Touchy”, he muttered, his tone still dripping with teasing. “Guess that means no tits for me”.

Before you could retort, a sharp, unexpected pain made you gasp softly. Aria, without teeth but somehow managing to pinch your nipple with surprising force, had bitten down. “Ow, ow, ow”, you whined, shifting slightly to try to adjust her latch. “Aria, no, no biting”.

Ben’s eyebrows shot up, and his smirk morphed into something closer to a grin as he leaned closer. “She bit you?”, he asked, his voice tinged with both surprise and amusement. “Already? Kid’s got a mean streak, huh?”.

You glared at him through the pain, wincing as you carefully pulled Aria off for a moment to reposition her. “It’s not funny, Ben”, you grumbled, though your flushed cheeks betrayed a touch of embarrassment.

“Oh, it’s a little funny”, he countered, leaning his head back against the headboard as he watched you.

As soon as you pulled Aria off to adjust her, her tiny face scrunched up, and within seconds, a loud wail echoed through the room. Her little fists flailed in protest, and her cries escalated as if she were starving and the world was ending simultaneously.

“Great”, you muttered, sighing as you tried to calm her down.

Ben chuckled, clearly amused by the dramatic display. “She’s got your attitude”, he said, smirking. “No patience, immediate outrage when she doesn’t get what she wants. Yeah, definitely takes after you”.

———————————

A/N: We're getting closer to saying goodbye... Please let me know what you think. 🥰

-

Part 32

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78 @uddiifiigj @libby99hb @urgogodancer @urinternetmom @mochminnie @laaadygisbooornex3 @fallout-girl219 @whump-loverz @ @fallout-girl219

[kezdispenser]

Breaking Character pt6/?

Summary: You are the new cast member of 'The Boys' and you play Butcher's cousin and Soldier Boy's new love interest 'Solene'. You're introduced to the cast by the director at a dinner and you're seated next to Karl and Jensen to "bond".

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Warnings: language, fluff

A/N: again! no hate to Danneel.

You stayed by the door, leaning against the frame, watching Jensen with Zeppelin. It was hard to look away, your heart swelling at the sight. This big, tough guy—who threw around curse words like they were punctuation and could knock back whiskey like it was water—was now a total softie, cradling his son like the world depended on it.

“Daddy loves you, okay?” Jensen murmured, his Southern drawl soothing as he smoothed Zeppelin’s hair. “Ain’t nothin’ out there gonna hurt you. Not while I’m here.”

Zeppelin sniffled, his tiny face peeking up at his dad, and you swore you saw Jensen’s heart melt right there. It was so damn pure, and it made you smile, even as a pang of something deeper settled in your chest.

When Jensen finally stood, leaving Zeppelin peacefully tucked in, he closed the door halfway and turned back to you. His shoulders sagged just a little, his face soft and tired, but still managing a sheepish grin.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Zep’s got those dreams sometimes. Fuckin’ rips me apart every time.”

You shook your head, stepping forward to close the space between you. “Don’t you dare apologize for that. Seriously, Jensen. Watching you with him? It’s…” You paused, trying to find the words, but they all felt too small.

“It’s what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“It’s amazing,” you said, your voice softer now. “The way you just—shit, Jensen, the way you’re there for him, the way he looks at you like you hung the damn moon. You’re a hell of a dad. I mean it.”

He looked down, his grin turning bashful. “Yeah, well,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, “they’re my world. Ain’t much choice in it, you know? Gotta show up.”

“No,” you countered, stepping even closer until you could rest your hand on his arm. “It’s not just that you show up. It’s how you show up. You’re so… present. So fucking all in. It’s not something you see every day.”

Jensen’s lips quirked into a lopsided smile, the kind that made your chest flutter. “You keep talkin’ like that, darlin’, and I’m gonna start thinkin’ I’m some kinda superhero or somethin’.”

You laughed, your fingers giving his arm a playful squeeze. “Well, you do save the day pretty well. You’ve got my vote.”

He chuckled, his hand coming to rest lightly on your hip. The warmth in his eyes softened even more as he looked down at you, his thumb brushing absently over the fabric of his shirt you were wearing.

“You’re good with them, you know,” he said quietly. “Zep and Arrow… they like you. Hell, I think Zep’s already got a little crush.”

You grinned, feeling a warm flush rise in your cheeks. “Well, I mean, I am pretty damn likable. Can’t really blame the kid.”

Jensen laughed, his head tipping back before he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Yeah, you are,” he murmured.

For a moment, you just stood there, wrapped in the quiet warmth of the hallway. Jensen’s arms came around you, pulling you into a hug that was as solid and grounding as he was. His chin rested lightly on the top of your head, and you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the moment.

“Thanks,” he said softly, his voice rumbling against your ear.

“For what?” you asked, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

“For bein’ you,” he said simply, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face. “I don’t say it enough, but… you’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

Your heart did a little flip, and you smiled. “You’re not so bad yourself, Ackles. Now, let’s get back to whatever we were doing before Zeppelin decided to steal the show.”

Jensen chuckled, shaking his head as he took your hand. “Deal. But don’t expect me to get through the night without braggin’ about how you got both my kids wrapped around your finger already.”

The set was its usual brand of chaotic—lights being adjusted, cameras rolling into position, and the crew bustling around with a kind of practiced frenzy. You were in your full Solene costume, leaning against a prop table while scrolling through your phone. Every now and then, you glanced up at the action, ready for your cue, but mostly, your attention was glued to the screen.

Jensen, standing nearby in his Soldier Boy costume, watched you from the corner of his eye. It wasn’t unusual for you to check your phone between takes, but today, you’d been extra preoccupied. Every time the director called for a break, you slipped away to a quiet corner, your phone pressed to your ear as you laughed softly at whatever conversation you were having.

Jensen’s jaw tightened as he adjusted the strap of his shield. He wasn’t the type to pry, but damn if it didn’t bother him to see you smiling like that for someone else.

“You good?” Karl’s voice broke through Jensen’s thoughts.

“Huh?” Jensen turned, blinking at Karl, who was smirking at him knowingly.

“You’re practically burning a hole through your shield,” Karl teased, gesturing to the prop in Jensen’s hands. “Who’s got you all twisted up, mate?”

“Nobody,” Jensen grumbled, but his gaze flicked back to you as you walked past, phone still in hand, laughing at something the person on the other end said.

“Uh-huh,” Karl drawled, following Jensen’s line of sight. “Right. Nobody at all.”

Jensen shot him a look, but before he could say anything, the director called for everyone to take their places.

You returned to set a minute later, tucking your phone away and sliding into position next to Jensen. Your cheeks were still slightly flushed, and there was a brightness in your eyes that made his chest tighten.

“Ready for this?” you asked, giving him a playful nudge.

“Always,” he replied, forcing a smile.

The scene went off without a hitch, but the moment the director yelled “Cut!” and announced a ten-minute break, your phone was back in your hand, and you were wandering off again. Jensen watched you go, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“Just ask her,” Karl said, appearing at Jensen’s side again.

“Ask her what?” Jensen muttered, though he knew exactly what Karl was getting at.

“Who’s got her giggling like a teenager at a One Direction concert,” Karl replied, smirking. “You’re not exactly subtle, mate.”

Jensen sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s none of my business.”

Karl raised an eyebrow. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Later, during lunch, you were sitting at a table, still engrossed in your phone. Jensen walked over, his Soldier Boy bravado dialed back, and cleared his throat.

“Mind if I join?” he asked.

You looked up, smiling. “Of course not.”

He sat down across from you, tapping his fingers against the table for a moment before finally asking, “So, uh… who’s got you grinning like that all day?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but you chuckled. “Why, Jensen Ackles, are you jealous?”

He scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Jealous? Nah. Just curious.”

“Uh-huh.” You smirked, leaning in slightly. “It’s just my brother. We're very close, so we talk about our entire day.”

Relief washed over Jensen’s face, though he tried to play it cool. “Your brother, huh? Sounds like a real pain in the ass.”

“Oh, he is,” you said, laughing. “But I love him. Keeps me grounded.”

“Good,” Jensen said, his voice softening. “You deserve people who do that for you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. For a moment, the chaos of the set faded away, and it was just the two of you sitting there, sharing a quiet connection.

“Thanks,” you said softly. “That means a lot.”

It had been a long week on set, and you were ready to spend your rare day off relaxing. Jensen had texted you earlier that morning, asking if you could swing by his place for lunch, and you didn’t think twice before saying yes.

When you arrived, the house was bustling with the noise of his kids running around. Zeppelin was chasing Arrow with a toy dinosaur, while JJ was sitting at the kitchen counter, coloring intently.

“Hey,” Jensen greeted you warmly as you walked in, pulling you into a quick hug. He lingered for a second, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Thanks for coming by.”

“Of course,” you said, smiling up at him. “What’s all this?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Something came up—work-related. I was supposed to drop the kids off at Danneel’s, but I don’t have time. Any chance you could do me a huge favor and take them over?”

You hesitated. It wasn’t that you minded helping out, but the thought of facing Danneel alone made your stomach twist. Still, the way Jensen looked at you, so earnest and a little desperate, made it impossible to say no.

“Yeah, I can do that,” you said finally.

“Thank you,” he said, his relief palpable. “You’re a fucking lifesaver.”

The car ride was filled with Zeppelin and Arrow chattering away in the back seat. They were sweet kids, and their excitement about seeing their mom made the drive easier. When you pulled up to Danneel’s house, though, your nerves returned full force.

You walked the kids up to the door, their small hands in yours, and rang the bell. It wasn’t long before Danneel opened it, her expression immediately guarded when she saw you.

“Oh,” she said, her tone clipped. “It’s you.”

You forced a polite smile. “Hey, Jensen asked me to drop the kids off. He got caught up with work.”

Danneel’s eyes narrowed slightly as she looked you up and down. “How convenient.”

You ignored the comment and crouched down to say goodbye to the kids. “Alright, you two. Be good, okay?”

Zeppelin threw his arms around your neck, and Arrow gave you a shy smile before following his brother inside. You straightened up, ready to leave, but Danneel stepped into the doorway, blocking your path.

“Let me ask you something,” she said, her voice low.

You froze, your hand still on the doorframe. “Okay...”

“What exactly is your endgame here?” she asked, her arms crossing over her chest.

You frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” she snapped. “You think I don’t see what’s going on? Jensen’s not some clueless idiot, but he’s obviously blinded by... whatever this is.” She gestured vaguely in your direction, her eyes blazing. “But I’m not.”

“Look, I don’t know what you’re implying—”

“I’m implying that you’re a fucking gold digger,” she cut in, her words sharp as glass. “I don’t know what sob story you fed him, but let me make one thing very clear—you’re not going to worm your way into his life through his kids or otherwise.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “You’ve got it all wrong,” you said, your voice shaking slightly. “I care about Jensen, and I care about his kids. That’s it.”

Danneel let out a harsh laugh. “Sure, you do. But here’s the thing—you’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. So save us all the drama and just... back off.”

You stared at her, your chest tight and your face burning. Without another word, you turned and walked back to your car, the weight of her accusations settling heavily on your shoulders.

You didn’t tell Jensen what Danneel had said. How could you? It wasn’t just the sting of her words; it was the fear that maybe, deep down, she was right. You didn’t want to cause a rift between him and the mother of his kids, and you didn’t want to be the reason for unnecessary drama.

So, you buried it. You went about your days, still seeing him on set, still sharing stolen smiles and quiet moments. But something had shifted. Your texts were shorter, your hugs a little less tight. Jensen noticed.

At first, he didn’t push. He figured maybe you were just tired or stressed, but as the days turned into a week, your distance started gnawing at him. You didn’t laugh as much, didn’t lean into him the way you used to. Every time he asked if you were okay, you brushed it off with a weak smile and a quick excuse.

It was driving him fucking insane.

It had been gnawing at Jensen all week. Your sudden shift, the guarded looks, the forced smiles—it wasn’t you. He knew you, and he knew when something was eating you alive. The final straw was when you avoided his texts entirely for a whole day, leaving him pacing his living room, running his hands through his hair, trying to figure out what the hell went wrong.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks: Danneel.

The next time she came by to pick up the kids, he didn’t bother with pleasantries.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice low and clipped as soon as the kids ran to grab their bags.

Danneel tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “Talk about what?”

“You know damn well what,” Jensen said, stepping closer, his arms crossed over his chest. “What the fuck did you say to Y/N?”

Danneel smirked, her red lips curving into something sharp and satisfied. “Oh, so she told you?”

“She didn’t have to,” Jensen shot back. “She’s been acting different ever since she dropped the kids off at your place. What the hell did you say to her, Danneel?”

Danneel shrugged, playing with the hem of her sweater. “Nothing she didn’t need to hear.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Jensen snapped, his patience wearing thin.

“Fine,” she said, her voice turning cold. “I told her the truth. That she doesn’t belong in your life. That she’s out of her depth.”

Jensen’s jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I’m the mother of your children,” she said, stepping closer, her voice low and smooth. “I’m the woman who knows you better than anyone else. Better than her.”

“Don’t,” Jensen warned, his voice sharp.

“Don’t what?” Danneel said, her tone dripping with false innocence as she closed the space between them. “Don’t remind you of what we had? Don’t make you think about how good we were together?”

Jensen took a step back, his hands flexing at his sides. “We weren’t good, Danneel. We fell apart, remember?”

She ignored him, her eyes roaming over his face. “You haven’t changed much, you know. Still the same Jensen. Still loyal, still so easy to read.” She reached out, trailing her fingers down his arm. “I miss that about you.”

Jensen flinched away from her touch, his voice cold and steady. “You need to stop.”

“Stop what?” she asked, tilting her head. “Being honest? You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. About us.”

“There is no us,” he said, his voice firm.

Danneel’s smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered, stepping even closer. “You sure about that?” she whispered, her hand brushing against his chest. “Because the way I see it, she’s just a distraction. Someone new and shiny. But we... we were everything, Jensen. We could be everything again.”

The sound of the front door opening stopped her words in their tracks.

“Jensen, I—”

Your voice froze mid-sentence as you stepped inside, your bag slung over your shoulder, your eyes wide as you took in the scene.

Danneel’s hand was still on his chest, and the way her body was angled toward him made it look intimate, conspiratorial.

The color drained from Jensen’s face as he saw the way your expression crumbled.

“Y/N, it’s not what it looks like,” he said, stepping toward you.

You held up a hand, your voice shaking. “Don’t. Just... don’t.”

Before he could say another word, you turned and walked out, leaving him standing there, his heart sinking into his stomach.

As the door slammed shut behind you, Jensen turned back to Danneel, his face a mask of fury.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he hissed, his voice dangerously low.

Danneel shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just proving a point.”

Jensen’s voice was ice. “You didn’t prove shit, except how fucking bitter you are.”

“She’ll leave you, you know,” Danneel said, her tone smug. “They always do.”

Jensen didn’t reply. He just turned away, his fists clenched at his sides, and stormed out the door, his mind racing with how to fix the mess Danneel had just made.

You made it to the driveway before he caught up to you, his footsteps pounding against the pavement as he grabbed your arm gently to stop you.

“Please, just let me explain,” he said, his voice desperate, his eyes wide with panic.

You turned to face him, tears already streaming down your face. “Explain what, Jensen? Explain how she was all over you? Explain why you didn’t stop her?”

“It’s not what it looked like,” he said quickly, his hands raised in surrender. “She was trying to get under my skin, trying to mess with me. With us.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Well, congratulations. She fucking succeeded.”

“Y/N,” he said softly, stepping closer. “Please don’t do this. Don’t let her ruin this. Don’t let her win.”

“Win?” you repeated, your voice breaking as you took a step back. “This isn’t about winning, Jensen. This is about me standing there and realizing that I will never—never—be what she was to you.”

“That’s not true,” he said firmly, his voice cracking with emotion.

You shook your head, a sob catching in your throat. “She’s the mother of your kids. She’s beautiful, she’s confident, she knows every part of you, Jensen. Every part that I’ll never get to know.”

“That doesn’t mean—” he started, but you cut him off.

“She gave you a life I could never give you,” you said, your voice trembling. “She gave you Arrow and Zeppelin and JJ. She gave you history. How the hell am I supposed to compete with that? How am I supposed to fit into your life when she’s always going to be there? When she knows exactly how to push your buttons and... and make you hesitate?”

Jensen’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You don’t have to compete with her, Y/N. This isn’t a fucking competition. I want you. I choose you.”

You looked up at him, your chest aching with the weight of it all. “But why?”

“What do you mean, why?” he asked, his voice breaking.

“Why would you choose me, Jensen?” you whispered, your tears falling freely now. “I’m not her. I’ll never be her. I could never give you the same excitement she gave you. I could never give you the family she gave you. And every time I see her, every time I see the way she looks at you, I feel like I’m just a placeholder for something you’ve already lost.”

His face crumpled, and he stepped closer, his hands reaching for yours. “You’re not a placeholder. You’re not some fucking second choice. You’re everything, Y/N. You make me feel alive in ways she never could.”

You pulled your hands away, the ache in your chest growing unbearable. “I wish I could believe that,” you said softly.

“Believe it,” he pleaded, his voice desperate. “Believe me.”

“I can’t,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

The pain in his eyes was almost too much to bear, but you turned and walked away, your heart shattering with every step.

Sitting alone in her car, I stared out at the rain streaking down the windshield, the silence pressing in around me. My hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, though the car wasn’t even running.

I thought about the way Danneel had stood so close to him, her hand on his chest like it belonged there, like it always had. The familiarity in her touch, the confidence in her presence—it was suffocating.

And Jensen… he hadn’t pushed her away.

It didn’t matter that his words had told a different story, that he’d promised Danneel was in his past. Actions spoke louder. And in that moment, standing there in his house, it felt like I was intruding on something sacred. Something I could never touch.

A sob caught in my throat as I buried my face in my hands. What the fuck was I thinking?

How could I ever compare to someone like Danneel? I wasn’t the mother of his children. I didn’t share years of memories with him. I wasn’t his past, his history, his comfort. I was just… a blip. A fleeting distraction.

The worst part wasn’t that Danneel was in his life—it was that she always would be. Every holiday, every school event, every milestone for the kids. She’d always be there, like a shadow I couldn’t escape. And me? I’d always be on the outside, trying to carve out a space that would never truly be mine.

I could never be enough for him. Not the way she was.

My breath hitched as the thought settled deep in my chest, cold and unyielding. I closed my eyes, letting the tears fall freely. It was over. It had to be. For both our sakes.

Because loving Jensen Ackles meant loving a life I could never truly be part of. And no matter how much he might have wanted me, some things just weren’t meant to be.

And God, it fucking hurt.

---------------------------

A/N: wouldn't it be fun if i abruptly stopped the story here? just kidding, there's obv a next part. lmk how u liked it in the comments.

@justwhisperingfantasies @impala67rollingthroughtown @deansimpalababy @jackles010378 @winchester @barnes70stark @nancymcl @oceean @spnaquakindgdom @ladysparkles78 @sexyvixen7

[izaanagi]

There is a moment of panic when you knock on the door, your nerves giving a jolt - before a curt ‘Come in’ seals your faith. 

As the door creaks open, exactly like it would in a horror movie, you step in only to have the man sitting at his desk and typing away at laptop fill up your vision. He does not look up from the task he is completing, but even the clacks of his drawn out fingers sound elegant and useless to argue with. The aura that Barou exudes is simply that of complete devastation and utter dominion: there is no way to fight such a beast and even for a second hope you could come alive out of it. 

“I have the documents you asked for earlier. I am going to leave them on the desk, sir,” you put out, as the boss has not spared yet a glance, and you don’t  have enough time to waste. 

He does not answer, and so all is left to do is to pace forward, place the pile on top of the flawlessly arranged working desk and turn around to leave. But you still have to make a step towards the door, when the clacking stops. 

“Wait,” he snaps, as you hear him getting up and cross over to go towards the door, and shut it close. 

It’s not a good sign, and you swallow the clump of saliva just formed inside your mouth. There is anticipation and dread, and they’re both equally as powerful. 

As Barou approaches, all you can do is step back - but there is nowhere to go, as soon your back hits the desk and his splayed hand trap you right where you would not like to be at this time: right in his cage, his eyes fixed on yours, his cologne being overbearing of the citrus lemon ambiance diffuser he has somewhere hidden on one of his shelves. 

“You thought you could simply go like this after what happened yesterday?” He asks, almost curious. “Did you think that it was a one-time thing and that now we could just go back to working in the same space with no repercussions?” 

You swallow again, and shake your head. “I did not dare to think so, sir.”

Then, he comes closer and closer, until your mouths are a breath away and his deep red eyes are the only splash of colour you can focus on. 

“Then you can get on your knees and make me forget that for a second you did, little peach,” he whispers, as a grin tries to appear on his mouth. 

There is already a knowing pool of wetness forming over your grey panties, your hands slightly trembling both in fear and anticipation of what his newly formed connection will be like. It does not matter that Barou’s cock was inside you not even twenty four hours prior, this is a place of work and tainting it with the smell of sex is not something that you could have imagined. 

Almost on autopilot, a dull throb possessing your faults hidden beneath a layers of clothes, you sink on your knees, your face landing directly in front of your boss’ crotch, a tent in his pants evident. He’s semi hard by the time you pull down his zipper and his pants. 

Your nose bares close to his cock, a small smear of pre cum staining the white boxers - when Barou’s hands grabs your neck, almost enveloping it, and presses your face against himself. 

“This is all your fault. I’m sitting here and all I can think about is how tight your pussy was,” he almost moans. 

Your lick his shaft through the fabric, the firmness of his member weighting on your tongue. The fabric gets in the way, wet under your ministrations, until Barou gets tired of it and with a small “Fuck this,” simply tugs at his waistband, and draws his dick out, red and swollen. 

You lose no time to envelope his tip inside, sucking on the soft skin and trailing your tongue over his slit, salty from the precum. Your left hand then wraps around his length, from the base up to the middle, as your struggle to let your fingers meet, given his girth. There is a ton of Barou and your mouth is simply too small to take him all in. 

“You look good on your knees with my cock in your mouth,” he says, as he pushes your head once again, his tip almost hitting the back of your throat with the power behind it. “Make use of that mouth wisely.”

Your head starts bobbing up and down, taking as much of him as you can, as your tongue swirls around his vein underneath, his glans and wherever it reaches. You almost gag before you can remove yourself from him, a thread of saliva connecting you to the majestic statement of manhood. You look up only to find Barou Shouei flushed, one hand still on the desk to support himself and the other ready to take advantage of you again. 

Blowing him is a hard job, as you twist your hand around the parts you cannot reach with your mouth, licking his shaft up and down with your tongue, and then sucking in his tip, cheeks hollowed up. 

As his cock hits the back of your throat again and you gag for the umpteenth time, you can feel Barou’s cock twitch. It reverberates throughout your wet pussy, looking for some kind of release, but Barou’s hands are soon on your head and all you can do is grasp his hips as he thrust into your mouth with ferocity, seeking a climax. 

There is an abrupt “Holy fuck,” as cum flows into your mouth, thick and hot, the taste of sea water. There is no time to spit out as his hand closes your mouth and all you can do is swallow his semen, make a disgusted face and wipe your mouth. 

“I hope you enjoyed your meal,”he says as he shoves his dick once again in your mouth, in order for it to be clean. But that’s as far as it goes, as you stand up, your knees hollering at you from being in that position a minute too long and wobbling at the door, mentally scanning your desk to remember whether you brough some water with you. 

“Close the door as you go,” Barou adds, as he zips himself up and goes to sit back again at where you found him when you came into the office. 

“You are such a dick,” you mutter to yourself as you bang the door after you, and can all but see the satisfied shit eating grin that Barou Shouei has plastered on his lips. 

[yuri-is-online]

Well Maybe the Octopus was Being a Dick! (Or Tsunotarou tries to do Yu a solid but he misunderstood a joke)

A/N- I am so sorry this is my first post I swear I have real writing ON GOD- EDIT- Made a part 2 with the other guys (x)

Various x Reader

"Human courtship rituals are truly as bizarre as they are fascinating."  Tsunotarou muses as you fight with your sleep deprived brain to remember how you even got on to this topic.  Today hadn't been a good day, Grim had been in a bad mood, Trein had popped a quiz on you, and Deuce had somehow managed to land you both in detention because he screwed up a potion.  By the time you managed to drag yourself back to Ramshackle, you were so tired you were practically falling over, only to find Tsunotarou pouting outside your gate.  You didn’t really have it in you to tell him no, so you’d stumbled around the woods outside your dorm for a few moments talking about… courtship?  Apparently?  You could have sworn you were just talking about some anime Idia suggested you watch.  “I never would have expected watching fish to be such a fundamental step in one’s relationship."

“Yeah there’s a thing in my world about it too.”  you say thinking about a visual novel you’d played once (or was it thirty?) times.  “Some sort of bit about a date where you go to an aquarium and when your person points out fishes they like you jump into the tank to fight them for their affection.” You blink and Tsunotarou suddenly fills your vision, staring intensely into your eyes.”

“Child of man, are you serious about this?”  he asks, and you just blink in response.  You’re pretty sure you are missing something here.

“Uh, yeah?  It was pretty funny I guess.”  you say, extremely confused.  Tsunotarou simply nods with a look of utmost seriousness on his face.

“I see, how very interesting you are child of man.  Fear not, I will make sure you receive the courtship you deserve.”  The only response you can think to give is a blank stare, but Tsunotarou is already gone and apparently on a mission.

“Fully intends to do combat for your hand but gets too distracted”- Malleus

He really wants to do this the right way, if fighting the fish in the aquarium tank will show the extent of his devotion then beloved, you need only point at the offending article and it will be turned to cosmic dust.  But you’re just too ethereal in the aquarium lighting and he ends up completely forgetting his objective in coming here and follows you around like a love struck puppy the entire time.  Whoops, objective failed successfully.

"Claims to know it's a joke, fights anyway"-Jade, Leona

Look, he knows there's no way what Malleus is claiming is even remotely true.  Your world might not have any magic, but it sounds pretty “normal” by human standards.  Fighting fish for someone’s affection?  Un-fucking-likely.  Jade enjoys being a mild inconvenience to everyone around him and Malleus really has just given him the best excuse to be an absolute menace.  He’s responding to everyone’s complaints with a put upon sigh, lamenting what drastic lengths he has to go to for your affection.  Leona’s more the type to directly tease you about it; he shredded Azul’s contracts and left him a crying mess, that’s got to count as beating up a fish right?  He’s just waiting on your response, herbivore.  

“Shrimp heaven really is now!”- FLOYD        

Doesn’t even think twice about it.  He’s already obsessed with picking fights with strong people anyway, now you’re telling him he gets to beat people up and win shrimpy’s affection at the same time?  Floyd’s kicking up his feet and giggling a little too much for anyone’s comfort, almost like he’s misinterpreted fish to mean friends.  Please prefect, Ace is begging you, just give your eel some kisses so he knows you're already his or direct him towards some actual fish before they are fuCkING UNDER ATTACK-

“Claims to know it’s a joke, overthinks anyway”- Jack, Azul, Riddle    

Ok ok look, just hear him out on this one.  Some cultures do place a significance on ritual combat to win a prospective partner’s affection.  Sure he doesn’t THINK you come from a culture like that, but maybe you do and just haven’t mentioned it this whole time and that’s why his obvious not so obvious attempts at flirtation have gone over your head.  Because he wasn’t offering to fight fish for you.  No now that he tries to say that out loud it sounds even more ridiculous BUT WHAT IF- repeat ad nauseum until he timidly (Jack, Riddle), slyly (Azul) just asks you about it and can’t decide who he’s more embarrassed for: Malleus or himself.

“Brings you actual fish”- Trey, Rook, Ruggie      

He has enough of a head on his shoulders to realize Malleus is probably misinterpreting something that was meant to be funny, but hey, it’s given him an idea.  For Rook, the idea of hunting wild game to provide you with nourishment is an idea he’s toyed with more than once.  If Roi du Dragon deems him worthy of advice, the least he can do as an appreciator of beauty is take it.  Trey’s already a fan of puns and dad jokes, and he knows A LOT of ones about fish.  Probably invites you over to help him bake it with the excuse of prepping for an unbirthday party and shamelessly teases you the whole time.  Ruggie’s the only normal man here I’m sorry to say, he just gets the idea to take you fishing as a date.  He gets to spend time with you AND supplement his diet, it’s a win-win situation.

“COMPLETELY ignores the fish thing and rags on your sleep schedule”- Vil

He’s not mad, he’s just disappointed spudling.  Really you need to be taking better care of yourself, how else are you supposed to blossom into the beautiful flower he knows you are if you aren’t getting those full 8 hours honey?  Tells you to be thankful he isn’t being unreasonable while he’s waltzing through your dorm cursing every energy drink he can get his hands on.  He will brute force your circadian rhythm back into shape so help him GOD.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

hai i have a request for a mike fic, so i was thinking of a comfort/hurt type of thing and maybe like a “i didn’t know where else to go” kind of trope where reader shows up to his house in the middle of the night distressed and he comforts her

To All I Think is Safe

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: After a family dinner gone awry, something guides you somewhere where your mind can safely wander in better memories than the ones you're making right now.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific pronouns for Reader, mentions of arguments, heavy disassociation, heavy nosebleeding, flashbacks, first kiss, date, fear of heights, fair date, author is fucking trying, fluff.

Notes: I think my bosses want me dead. Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

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I can handle family. Who can't handle family?

The part of me knocking on the green door illuminated only by the orange streetlight a few yards away, trying to peak through one of the three window slots on the door to see if there's any sign of life inside of the modest house, praying that there is out of selfish desperation. That's who.

I hadn't called. Hadn't given notice. I'd been too caught up in the emotions of myself to do so, worried I'd be turned away if I had. The thought makes me feel ill now, my mind chastising me for such a self interested act.

For a moment I almost turn to leave, sure that no one is awake and that I've simply wasted the gas in the trip over here. But at the loud clunk of the door unlocking, I feel my heart jump and sink simultaneously as Mike peaks his head through the crack in the door, bags under his eyes and hair tossled from sleep.

"Hey," he croaked, blinking away the sleep as his tired face managed a look of surprise.

"Hey," I said softly, trying not to let my voice crack. But it does. "Is this a bad time?"

I don't know what gives my state away. Maybe it's how swollen my face is, puffy and burning from the overexposure to salt water. I can already feel the skin on my eyes balloning in a disastrously unattractive manner. Maybe it's the snot that's still on my face even after trying desperately to wipe it away, my problem being I'd run out of napkins in my car some time ago and hadn't replaced them, so I'd been resorted to just trying my best to sniff back the snot or use the arm of my jacket, which is now soaked and covered by my hand to conceal it, to wipe it away. God, it's fucking sticky and I feel gross. I don't understand why the snot won't just stop fucking flowing.

"Shit, you're bleeding," Mike says. His eyes widen as he steps forward, instantly dragging me into the house, down the hall and into the bathroom.

Oh. That's why my head hurts.

The white light is blinding and overstimulating in the small, disorganized room. One glance in the mirror and I can see the bottom half of my face is grossly smeared in the snot-blood combo running from my nose, my eyes bloodshot and more dry than a British comedy from all of the tears. I stare at myself for a moment, hardly even realizing Mike is yanking my coat off of me, stroking my hair and trying to ask me questions about what happened. I can hear his voice but the words are muffled, and even though my eyes are staring at him now, I don't know when I turned to face him or what I'm really looking at. I'm just staring at anything. My mother used to call it 'staring off into space.' It's actually a disassociation episode. The kind that can make me lose myself in other thoughts, making me distant from reality where I assume the worst of things.

I'm rational enough to know not to lean into him. If I throw myself into his arms I'll smear my shit everywhere and then he'll be grossed out and will have to play nice after I interrupted his sleep to beg for comfort that should come easily enough from my aforementioned mother, but clearly I'm adult enough now that I don't need coddling and I shouldn't have driven here and-

Am I saying this out loud? Because my mouth is moving and I'm trying to say something but I'll be honest, my head is in disarray and Mike looks worried. Me too, buddy. Me too.

My hands try to help his find a wash cloth in his closet, trying to be useful, but they're covered in snot and blood too and it's dried and horrid looking and I just feel like some sticky toddler that's wailing over nothing because that's what I'm doing, and I'm trying not to dissolve into a new wave of tears because my eyes really, really hurt and I'm gonna end up hiccuping and sobbing and I shouldn't even be here right now.

Mike's hands wrap around mine and he's trying to pull me somewhere. But he won't get out of my way, tugging me forward and blocking me like it's some game. Then I realize it's him he's trying to drag me to, and I try to push away, not wanting to get him dirty or let him fulfill some duty of pity just because he feels obligated seeing me in such a state. He's touching my hair and there's snot in that too and this is all just entirely too much, making me burst out sobbing once more as I try to hide my face in my arm, feeling all too vulnerable and alone while in a house that's not mine in any way, shape or form. But his arms feel nice around me, and he's guiding me to the bathtub and helping me lay down inside of it. When he pulls away I'm paranoid for a second that he'll turn the shower head on and wash me like a drunk, especially when he reaches for the shower handles. He presses a clean, white cloth to the spout and let's just a little bit of water out to wet the washcloth before turning the water off and coming closer to me, dabbing and wiping gently at the drying mixture on my face.

There's a long while of silence. Him carefully washing me, his touch gentle and caring as I feel the wet glumps with dried crusts fade away. The pounding in my head begins to dull to an overwhelming ache, making me shut my eyes as I softly groan. When I think he's done I dare peaking at him from under my lashes, trying to read his mind. His brows are furrowed, probably in disgust. Lips pressed together as he sits on the balls of his heels,, watching me carefully. Most likely he'll let me sleep on the couch and then kick me out in the morning. I'll be lucky if I get the "We should see other people" speech. I wouldn't blame him if my calls just couldn't connect when I get home, leaving me to wonder what could've been if I hadn't been so selfish.

I don't even know the time for fucks sake.

"I'm not crazy," I say in this broken voice that only a crazy person would have.

I don't know what's funny, but he's laughing. His hand reaches out to stroke my cheek, and he feels so warm. His callouses have this smooth texture to them. Working hands. It's the first thing I noticed when we held hands the first time. It was at some carnival thing, and Abby was with us. It was sweet under those neon lights. The rides always look so cheap, but there's something enchanting in that. It's what I focus on now as my mind finally begins to relax, allowing me the guilty pleasure of mentally slipping away into an actual memory instead of just static filling my mind and drowning everything else out unpleasantly.

"I know," Mike says softly, his thumb stroking the raw skin under my eye as he watches me with a gentle smile, one probably meant to hide his contempt. "You're okay."

The rides had these giant speakers built into them. And the workers would play songs from them, loud enough it was blaring in your ear on the ride but it was a reasonable volume when you were just walking around on the wet, overgrown and matted grass that curls around the giant cables Mike and I both had to be irritating about reminding Abby not to trip on, both of us looking down to watch for them more than looking at anything else.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mike asks gently. He's always so gentle. Well, not always.

"Ope, someone lost their drink," I said to Mike, pointing at a spilled lemonade on the dirt path that had been created by decades of the county fair foot-traffic.

"Five second rule," Mike said, his voice low and teasing in my ear, making me burst out laughing.

"That's fucking disgusting!" I exclaimed, looking at him incredulously. A mother passing by snapped 'hey!' At me, tugging her child harshly behind her as she glared. I blushed, covering my mouth with my hand at the outburst, which made Mike laugh just as hard as I just had.

I suppose I have to talk about it. I can't really just not show up at his doorstep in the middle of the night and not just explain myself. But my teeth feel cemented together, my throat full of glue that halts the words I could use to inform him of why I look like this. And my eyes are too tired to make contact with his. So I just melt into his hand, pressing it between my cheek and my shoulder. And he doesn't press any more.

"I always liked the rides that made me feel like I was flying," Mike said as we watched Abby spin round and round with some girl she often spent her days with. Lisa Something.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning to look at him, taking a drink from the giant lemonade that was not at all real lemonade and was instead some horrid sugar that's taking five years off of our lives mixed with whatever makes the color of the drink the same as construction workers glow-in-the-dark vests that I'm sure will have like, ten different studies on how it gives you some cardiovascular disorder from overexposure in twenty years. There's a waxy ring of chapstick around my straw, so it's easy to tell which one to drink from. Mike had gotten just the one giant drink and two straws, shoving them in with a smooth smile as he handed me the already sweaty, Pepsi branded cup to hold while we walked. I think he didn't know that I noticed the twelve year old boy who'd been five people ahead of us in line do the same thing with his date earlier, but it was a cute gesture nonetheless.

"Yeah. I don't know why, it just felt comforting. Wind fuckin' up my hair and shit," he said, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he watched the two girls, who are sticking their tongues out at us as they whirl by.

"What, like you were flying away from your problems?" I ask, genuinely guessing.

"Nah, I don't really think of it like that. Just felt like I was somewhere else for a bit. Could close my eyes and the only anxiety I felt was whether or not Genie there was gonna fucken drop me," he said, glancing at me and smirking as he points at the giant airbrushed painting of Genie from Aladdin on the side of the ride. That's definitely not licensed.

"Have you eaten?" Mike asks softly, coming a little closer to me as his other hand cups my opposite cheek. At that I shake my head, pressing my lips together.

"It was all just some giant fiasco," I said as I laughed while trying to aim my basketball for the hoop several feet in front of me. Mike's made like five goals in a row and is proudly holding a very cheap rainbow dolphin with lopsided eyes for me while he watches me struggle just to get one.

"What, your prom date?" He teased, leaning closer to my ear as I take a shot. And miss. Again. "Or this?"

I turned to him, glaring and trying to suppress my amused smile.

"The date was fine, my hair was horrid," I said, turning away from the man working the booth who was trying to convince me to try again.

"I always like your hair," Mike says softly, one hand stroking my hair as he presses his forehead against mine. God, why won't he just tear into me already? The anticipation is fucking killing me.

I open my mouth to respond, but I just hiccup instead. At that he gently helps me up, guiding me out of the bathroom and leading me into the kitchen where he promises a leftover bowl of chicken noodle soup has my name written all over it in the fridge.

There's a thousand insecure questions I want to ask right now. Does he hate me? Will he hate me? Is this just a prelude to an awful breakup? But instead I just cling to my thoughts quietly, not wanting an answer to anything. Reality fading in and out of focus.

The kitchen is quiet as he moves about, dishing out the leftovers and putting them in the cheap, stained microwave he'd had to buy when Abby blew up the last one with a pitiful attempt at making her own rice Krispy treats. He leans against the counter as we wait for the rattling machine to finish, neither of us really saying anything as my leg bounces wildly in anxiety.

"Are you okay?" Mike asks softly after a moment, tilting his head. His arms are crossed in front of him, which is normal for Mike but it still makes me on edge.

I try again to speak, but I can't. It feels like I'll just blow up again if I do. So I just shrug instead, not wanting to talk about the lengthy screaming match I'd managed to find myself in earlier that night.

The microwave beeps loudly, causing us both to start, Mike pulling the door open quickly to shut it up and take out the now hot bowl, hissing under his breath at himself for not grabbing a towel as he quickly moves to set it down in front of me. If I'd been in a better state I would've laughed at the admittedly comical sight, but I felt like I'd done enough at his expense for one night.

Once situated, there's long while of silence. No other noise except for my spoon clinking against my bowl as I eat quietly, Mike watching me across the glass table as he takes a few drinks from his clear glass of water, head on his large hand. A clock ticks in the other room, the hour later than I'd wanted to be when I showed up unannounced.

"I'm sorry," I finally say in a soft voice, my spoon scraping soundlessly against the maroon bowl. "I just didn't know where else to go."

He smiles softly at that, his hand reaching across the table for mine. The touch meant to be comforting instead sends me back into my thoughts, my body stiffening as my mind tries to distract me from my anxiety and doubt.

Our hands had been brushing against each other for hours as we'd walked. Both of us were too nervous to take the others, which is a bit silly since we were grown adults. But really we hadn't had any serious discussions yet. We were still in the dinners and texting phase, dancing around any serious 'what is this' talks until we felt like we would both have similar answers ready for any questions. The night had settled in solidly now, the fairgrounds only alive by the bright lights of the rides.

The grazing, however, had come to an end when the ferris wheel started clicking towards what felt like my untimely demise.

I fucking hate ferris wheels, fun fact.

I don't think Mike particularly likes them either, based off of how stiff his body was next to mine, his eyes trained dead ahead, his jaw clenched. I think he might break a tooth. Or maybe I'm projecting.

Abby and Lisa had been insistent on riding it, and had been even more insistent that Mike and I needed to ride something with them before the night was over. And even though we both looked at the thing with a pit in our stomach, neither of us felt ridiculous about being grown adults on that ride as opposed to all the others flooded with teens and kids dodging in and out, stomping in puddles of who knows what on their way to the next ride. So we gritted our teeth, handed over our tickets and got into the cart right behind Abby and Lisa, who wouldn't stop looking back at us with amused eyes, whispering into each other's each as they covered their mouths.

"My dad worked as a carnie," I blurted out as we hung mid air, halfway up the ride while they still loaded people in. "These things are fucken sturdy."

Mike didn't look at me. Or at least he didn't turn his head. I didn't either. His silence makes my anxiety a bit worse, wondering if my random fact had somehow irritated him, or if there was something I was supposed to do that I wasn't picking up on.

"... I'm gonna die to Creed," he finally said between his gritted teeth.

My brows furrow for a moment before I realize what song is playing, and then I'm laughing. Maybe a little too much, but that's the anxiety. Abby and Lisa are darting their heads around to look down at us, trying to see what's set me off, and Creed's taking One Last Breath on the blaring radio somewhere around us as they have been for the past however many months with the top song.

"I'm never gonna escape this, they play this way too much at work," I laughed. And he started laughing too, both of us white knuckled as we gripped the bar in front of us. Then we move up again, and the cart is slightly rocking, making me feel ill.

"That's okay," Mike says softly, his thumb trailing across my knuckles as I stare down at our hands. "I was missing you, anyways."

I look up at him, trying to read his expression, my head still trying to balance my focuses. There's concern in his eyes, obvious as he realizes how awful this particular episode is.

Abby is yelling something at us, but my head is buzzing with too much anxiety to hear her.

"Go away!" Mike yells back at her, waving his hand in irritation, then stopping as he realizes he's rocking the cart. He looked back at me anxiously, trying to smile. It just looked like he'd been shot instead. "Sisters," he said shyly.

"What's she saying?" I asked him, leaning closer to hear him better over the heavy guitar.

"Nothing," he insisted. "She's just being twelve."

I go to look up, only to feel his hand on top of mine, warm and strong as he grips it a little too hard for the first time, but I think that's out of anxiety too. No matter what, the first move makes me more dizzy.

"Your dad worked fairs?" He asked anxiously, obviously trying to change the subject.

"I should've called first," I say softly, leaning onto the table and pushing the empty bowl away from me as I lay on top of my arm.

"It's okay," he reminds me in a soft voice, rising from his chair while still holding my hand. "You're home now."

"Well, I'm at your home now," I hiccup into my arm. His arms wrap around me, guiding me up and into his warm embrace that I'd been longing for for what felt like hours.

"I thought you said you liked flying!" I laughed, terrified.

"Flying! This is sitting still while dangling above death!" Mike clarified. The carts began clicking again, and we now had an easier view of the two girls in front of us, making him gasp and yell out Abby's full name in scolding.

I see why he didn't want me to look up. Abby and Lisa are miming a make-out session while they giggle obnoxiously.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna fucking ground her," he groaned, covering his forehead with his other hand. His face is completely red, his body so stiff it feels like I could break off his arm with barely any pressure, and my own heart is slamming so hard against my chest I think it's visible.

One more click and we'll be at the top. Great.

He's looking down at me, I think he's trying to get me to refocus but I just can't. I've done my duties for the night, and now I'm stuck in this emotional pit of hatred and numbness as my mind tries to remind me of a better time that just makes me feel worse because Mike is speaking again and I just can't hear him.

"She's being a wingman. Really, she's just spotting a good opportunity," I rambled in Abby's defense. Mike glanced at me, then at the tweens in front of us.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice nerve wracked.

"Oh yeah. Every little sister does it. I mean, it's partially based in torture, but overall she's trying to help," I said quickly, my breath shortening.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking just as pale as me.

"I fucking hate heights, please distract me," I pleaded quickly, only to immediately feel his teeth click loudly against mine as he kissed me, his lips sweet with sugar and hands nearly breaking mine from his tight grip, Abby and Lisa whooping obnoxiously in front of us as we freeze in the moment. It's clumsy, certainly. And it's obvious on both ends how long it's been since either of us have done this. But it's an effective method, my mind beginning to refocus on the taste of the borderline awful lemonade fresh on his breath, his shaking hand moving from the bar to cup my cheek cold from the wind. My eyes widen in surprise, the music swelling around us and the lights somehow brighter as we rock above the rest of the fair in the squeaking booth.

When he pulls away, there's a soft smile on his face, his tongue quickly darting out to taste his own lips.

"... I like your chapstick," he said shyly, neither of us focused on the fact that we're now moving steadily in the ride, fully tuned in to the other.

"Thanks," I said softly, cheeks burning against his touch. "Strawberry."

There's a long second of nothing, and I'm vaguely aware of Abby and Lisa screaming "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" And someone is trying to shush them. I know it's not Mike because he's staring at me like an idiot. Completely satisfied and dramatically more calm as he leans in for another kiss, this time pulling me fully into his embrace.

"You're home," Mike repeats against my lips, then moving to trail along my cheeks, his hands carefully cupping my face once more as his touch grounds me back in reality. "I'll be here when your mind gets back."

As my own hands graze along his soft, cotton shirt, I feel my pulse begin to relax. Doubt beginning to creep away as his lips trail along my jaw, slowly working to my neck. It's not a demanding touch. It's just comfort. And he'll keep doing this until I return to him like I always do, and then he'll keep doing it until we both fall asleep in a tight embrace under a dozen blankets, half of which will be gone by morning as we wake in a pool of sweat across the bed from each other, only to seek the other out again in wakefulness. And there will be answers for his questions, and I'll be fine.

I'm home now.

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I FINALLY FUCKING PUBLISHED SOMETHING. HOLY FUCK I'M OVERWORKED. (Fun fact, this was fucking hard because I was actively disassociating while writing the whole thing. Reader just like me frfr)

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

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