#damnit boys just kiss already

[jdorian]

yeah I need them to stop respecting their boundaries asap they never do that with anything else??

lmao so right we need them to talk some sense into the boys, because clearly they aren't getting there on their own

[louebel]

— [ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 . . . 𝟐 .ᐟ ]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: sanji, zoro, mihawk, buggy × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: not proofread and rushed,, it's not as wholesome as the first and more calm + horny my bad, lowercase, gets a bit explicit with sanji and buggy at the end... i am deeply sorry not. rest is sfw, fluff, and... fluff. usage of "baby, sweetness, honey, good boy" (and... others? i forgot) in all of them except zoro's, lots of caresses and kisses! these are rather short,, anddd dripping divider by @ benkeibear :) 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you couldn't help but share the sudden warmth you felt with them, resulting in... a lot of kisses! ... and more. part one is here!! though idk should i repost it? since it's in my archived blog— eh idk maybe not.

— 𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈, wc. 699

"sanji... honey..."

a very pleasant smell engulfed the kitchen. sweet and homely, a dish that piqued your appetite. seagulls could be heard outside the sunny, the sun rising slowly to greet all those who continued their lives.

and then there were you two, already awake. sanji always got up earlier, and so you did too, wanting to keep him company at such early hours. you could still hear sanji's wails and the rivers of tears plopping onto the wood at your kind gestures, and you swore you saw the sunny sweatdrop that day. (you were definitely not imagining things...)

"hmm? yes, love?"

his voice was your greatest weakness. freshly awake, groggy with sleep... if only you could both rest right now — what you'd do to feel him tend to your scalp, brushing his treasured fingers upon you, perhaps humming a tune in your ears. you remembered his words: "because my love for you is so profound, i can't contain it" and now, every time he murmurs, you melt a little more, thinking of what he said. of course, not all the time, sometimes he just does it.

sadly, however, you couldn't go back to sleep. he had to cook, and he was going to treat you with the most delicious, mouthwatering breakfast ever, but you'd still be disappointed since what you wanted was... something else. you were so spoiled...

"i think i could get something else for breakfast... it's fine, right?"

now, you know sanji despised wasting food. it wouldn't really be a problem considering luffy, but... why didn't you say anything?

he glanced at you from his shoulder, a bit perplexed. he felt his heart flutter as you approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your face on his tender nape.

"sweetness?"

"... those are definitely sweet," you pointed at the pancakes, already smiling, "but i think you're sweeter."

it was only morning, damnit. and yet here he was, already blushing, cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink. a small chuckle rumbled from his chest, the cook lowering the heat as the first batch was ready, before turning to you and pressing a tender kiss upon your forehead.

"you do, love?"

"mhm. and, you know, i'd really like if you gave me some of your love right now. i think that's the most sweet... 'm thinking about just sitting here and kissing you all over while telling you "i love you, i love you, i love you" ," you brought his hand to your chest, smiling at how his visible eye softened. "feels really warm right here, just thinking 'bout it..." you were so wonderful that sanji might just die on the spot.

"oh, love... you can't just say those things so early..."

"hmm? and why not?"

"... m—might faint."

fainting in your arms didn't sound so bad though, he thought dreamily.

"ppff... if you faint, i won't shower you with kisses."

"i won't faint."

you giggled at his suddenly determined tone. tenderly brushing your lips around the side of his neck, you nudged his jaw, sliding your hands under his shirt, feeling him tense beneath your skimming fingers. his flesh felt firmer to the touch, lineaments of his abdomen and torso defined with each part you mapped.

"hmm... i love you so much, sanji. really love you, hon."

"... a—ah, getting handsy, aren't you?"

you loved how he got so flustered with just a couple of touches. he shuddered as you placed your hand on the crook of his neck, pulse quickening beneath your thumb. he was rather sensitive, there, too...

"you— you know, i, hnngh, think you're the sweetest..." he whimpered, his slender fingers finding your tantalizing ones.

"hmmm? is that so, honey?"

"y—yes — ohh... love..."

you were gliding dangerously lower...

"mmm... you're so hard, sanji." oh... "i think you should relax a bit before cooking..." oh my... "it's so early... you need proper rest." ba-dump.

"... i—i do, don't i? heh... hehe..."

"yeah, you do. come on... i'll show you just how sweet i am. will give you all my love. you want that, baby?"

"oh, ooh please... goodness, don't—don't hold back, mon ange..."

"mhm... good boy. relax..."

and soft moans soon filled the piquant kitchen — followed by smooches, wet sounds, and declarations of love from both ends.

you truly were the sweetest in his eyes.

— 𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐀 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎, wc. 388

"zoro... your face looks pretty kissable today."

sometimes, zoro had no idea what went through your head. you've both been sitting on the deck, zoro against the mast and you lying your head on his lap. he was going to take a nap but it seemed you were feeling chatty, so he decided to entertain you for a little while before he dozed off.

he had no idea what you were thinking, but he liked it.

"does it?" he mumbled, gazing down at you to see you shift in his lap, eyebrow raising as you got up and cuddled to his side, chin on his shoulder. he tilted his head slightly, seeing your pupils dilating at the sight of him; already quite big as the sun was setting. he smirked, though the expression on your face only made his heart beat faster.

you looked completely smitten.

"yep. very."

"hmm..."

smooch. smooch. smooch.

"oi..."

and he probably did, too, in his own way. he couldn't see it, but you did. how he relaxed, how he so softly sighed. you smiled, realizing just how much he laid himself bare to you. it wasn't the same trust he shared with luffy, no. it was something more intimate. something... sweeter. and with each osculate to his neck and jaw, zoro loosened just a bit further, his consciousness slowly slipping away.

"hm. thought you said my face." yet, he still taunted you, with that stupid smug grin on his lips. you rolled your eyes, continuing to pamper him with love.

"shut up. mm..."

smooch.

"love you, zoro. so much."

you slowly pushed him down on the floor, the swordsman tensing a little before following your silent command. you lay on his body, his arms splayed on the wood, eye closed as you kissed his eyelid, brow, and nose. a reddish hue colored his cheeks, chuckling as your tiny, adoring pecks tickled his skin.

so lovely.

" 'that so..?"

"yeah."

your eyes mitigated further, noting the corners of his mouth curve up more. you were lucky...

"mhh... y'know, i think you look pretty kissable today, too."

he'll rearrange his naps, just for you. with a kiss to your lips, he sealed the unspoken "i love you" with his tender actions — his heart all yours.

and he'd care for your own... like one of his swords.

— 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊, wc. 338

perona was speechless. she knew, she knew. she knew that you were dracule's lover...

"miiiiihaaawk... will you look at me?"

but what she witnessed was as surprising as the first time you told her that.

you grinned at the sighing warlord, shutting his book as you've been pestering him for minutes. arms wrapped around him, kisses to his neck — he wasn't a man easily swayed, even by you. the armchair leaned back as he finally eased, your form against his soft.

"... do you have nothing to do?" he huffed, rather tired of your games. interrupting him was almost sin; perona had no idea how you lived. were these the privileges of being dracule mihawk's partner? he treated you so differently... how could you even fall for someone as brooding as him? every time she did something nice, like give him pastries or clean the castle as she had nothing to do, he'd ignore her completely. (though he appreciated it.)

"i do. i'm loving you." yet here he was, letting you speak and do as you wished with a faint smile on his face. he looked like a big cat.

"something other than that."

"hmm... no. i wanna love you right now."

the longer she watched from her little corner, the more her mind crumbled.

"... you're impossible."

"but you love me too. like how i love you. i love you a lot."

you were so... mushy. something that did not connect to mihawk at all — unless you were around. his actions conveyed what he felt, even if they were scarce at the moment.

"you..."

"like, a looot. you know? a lot. i really do."

but... no words would topple from his mouth, perona was sure of that.

"i reciprocate." incredibly sure.

"c'mon, say it." there was no way.

"... i love you too."

"there you go. good boy."

he could only sigh at your antics — though inside he felt as warm as a star. after that, perona left her hiding spot and dragged her jaw that sat on the floor.

— 𝐁𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐍, wc. 426

buggy was not happy.

he was not happy you gave him a kiss, in front of his whole crew, completely unbothered as you pretty much established he was yours. he did not like it. at all.

"just..! what do you think you're doing?! kissing me out of nowhere? they have no idea we're together! what if someone took a photo!—"

"did i tell you?"

"—tell me what?"

you chuckled while he blinked. it was always funny how simple it was to make him stop; one word and he'd immediately listen to you. it was as if his own temporarily had no weight, just to hear your own thoughts, only to slander them later or actually agree with them.

most of the time, he ended up stuttering. you loved how much he hated you teasing him; it became your favorite pastime.

"you look incredibly cute." your grin always meant trouble.

"my nose looks redder than usual??"

your chuckle the last sound he heard,

"no. you, look, cute. cute. adorable. precious." and your words forever his downfall.

you could see his cheeks gaining color, a pretty rouge that matched his lipstick and nose, mirth decorating your face at the view. he was just so, so so cute. but when he snorted and flailed his hands around with parts of his body floating at the use of his devil fruit... that's when he got even cuter.

"y—you say that all the time!" he squeaked and pointed at you, stomping closer to you to somehow look "threatening". in reality, he was just a cub. you kept on smiling, looking at him with an adoring gaze that managed to make his poor heart stop — your affection a treat he relished.

"i mean it." plus, when your voice had that adoring tone... he could do nothing but take what you said. maybe he was just making a big deal out of things...

"w—well! of course you mean it, hahaha! i'm... buggy the... aah..."

his eyes almost popped out of his sockets as you got closer to him; wrapping your arms around his waist, teeth nibbling his neck. a tiny, soft moan that made you shudder left buggy's lips, already trembling.

oh...

"... mm... love you so much, baby. 'm sure they don't mind the kiss... come here."

he could barely get a word in, before his squeals and whimpers reached even those outside, as all of his skin got caressed by your lips. soon, he was screaming "i love you too!" and your stunt was the last thing he thought about.

[raven-cincaide]

Boyfriend! Megumi’s worst enemy wasn’t cute boys trying to whisk you away or party girls who urged a naive little you into (fun) trouble - even if there was plenty of that for him to worry about as well. No, his worst enemy was gifting you a gift.

Boyfriend! Megumi has pried himself on being a smart gift giver. Bragged how easy giving gifts came to him: he always gave his friends what they needed to make their lives easier, better, and more practical. A gimmicky pair of slippers to Yuji after Goto stole his favourite ones; a handheld portable sewing machine for Nobera after she (again!) threw a fit over the tiniest of holes in her newly bought trademark sweater, a posh grinding stone for Maki and a half-joking visit to a fancy Sushi restaurant for Inumaki-senpai after which he expanded his vocabulary with half a dozen new sushi-related words! Yet when it came to you, he was stooped.

Boyfriend! Megumi hated that he was so uncertain about what to get You. Something practical felt too cheap, like he reduced your place in his life to ‘just friends’; jewellery felt thoughtless and impersonal. All those pretty skincare and make-up sets bore the same thoughtless touch while also posing the risk of you taking his gift as a critique. On the other hand, clothes felt too personal and posed the risk of making the entire interaction awkward if he guessed your size, style, and design wrong. Damnit. 

Boyfriend! Megumi pushed aside several neatly wrapped boxes, making them tumble off his bed to be forgotten on his for-once-messy floor. His attention turned to the remaining similar boxes of different shapes and sizes, all individually wrapped in various papers, with only bows and rosettes to tell them apart. What about a spa weekend? Everyone liked those things, right? Or a date night? Or maybe... 

Boyfriend! Megumi barely noticed his dorm room door creek open and your soft padding of plush socks against his wooden floors. He barely hid a smile as you snuck up in front of him and waved your hand in his face. As if he wouldn’t notice you. Then, in the middle of your wave, you noticed all the gifts that littered his bed, 

"Ohh! Are we wrapping gifts? Is that why you called me? But it looks like you’re already done-" 

"-Pick a number", Megumi cut you off, not looking at you. 

Boyfriend! Megumi tried not to jump out of his skin from the nerves or too obviously chew the inside of his cheek as you stared at him with those huge owl-like eyes, as you processed his words. 

“ehhhh? Okay.. 3, I guess?” you sounded uncertain, almost afraid, as if trying to guess what kind of psychological game or scare tactic he was playing. Or what were you supposed to do with the neatly wrapped flat box he placed in your hands? Your tense shoulders and half-bent knees conveyed that you expected the box to turn into a jump scare at any second. 

Boyfriend! Megumi made a mental note to kick Yuji’s ass for showing you Human EarthWorm three. He better not think about showing you the fifth one, lest you become too scared of your own damned shadow. 

Boyfriend! Megumi makes a motion for you to open the gift.

“Is it.. for me?” you asked, and he has to bite back a sarcastic reply. Instead, he merely nodded. He waited with batted breath as you slowly unravelled a signed copy of the newly released book in your favourite series, silently praying that you haven’t bought it yet. When you squealed in delight and jumped on his neck, Megumi knew you hadn't and breathed a sigh of relief. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close. He felt like he had aged five years trying to pick a gift for you. 

Boyfriend! Megumi felt proud of himself as you thanked him for the millionth time. “You’re welcome,” he said, kissing your forehead. “You can have another one later,” he added before he could stop himself. 

You pause mid-cheer as the penny drops: “ Wait? If this is gift 3, then are there more gifts? How many more?” 

“Later” Boyfriend! Megumi responded with a hint of a playful smile on his lips. The kind that said that you might just have to work a little bit for those other gifts… 

[k1mbe3rly]

bruhh i had accidentally posted a request without any writing on the post and had to delete it and i forgot who made it so now i can’t tag them😢. but still if you see this, this is for you💔 imy😞 a bit short

Admit

warnings: smut. slight sub!nam-gyu, ⚠️BALLS SUCKING⚠️ only male receiving

part 2 of Desperate

After his little submission phase which lasted like an hour or so, he REFUSED to talk about it, every time you had brought it up he would always said, “I don’t know what your talking about.” or “I never did that”, he was embarrassed that he managed to even moan in front of you, you kinda missed it and hoped to hear it, which will be TODAY

You were in the bedroom on Nam-gyu lap, making out with him, soft smacking sounds from the lips filled the room, he hands were on your back rubbing up and down and eventually landed on your ass, he groped it a bit before his hand went back to your back

you pulled back a bit which he did a small whine and confused, “You know i was thinking.. we could uh do what we did a couple days ago hm? kinda miss your moans baby” you said to him, he rolled his eyes and sighed “I don’t know what your talking about, must’ve been in your head” he said tapping in your head a bit, you frowned softly “Don’t act dumb, you can’t avoid it forever.” you said stroking his hair a bit “Come on.. just admit that it happen..” you said, he shaked his head “nothing happen” he said simply

you looked at him and shaked your head making a clicking sound with your mouth “you bad boy. making me look crazy? how about a little punishment?” you said sitting up on his lap, he just looked at you plainly “Your not gonna dom me.” he said putting his hands on your hips, “Just one more time? and that would be it! i swear, just wanna hear your precious moans” you said chuckling a bit as you went down between his legs softly rubbing his cock thru his sweatpants, he quickly let out a gasp “what do you say hm? just one more time..” you said, your voice going slightly low, he looked down at you, a bulge forming in his pants, “God damnit.. fine! just this time and that’s it!” he said

you smirked getting up giving him a quick kiss, you went back between his legs, and pulled down his sweatpants along with his boxers, his cock already hard and stood, you have his tip a small kiss which sent him shivers down his spine, arching his back a bit but quickly leaning back into the headboard, you begin twirling your tongue around his tip as he let out a breathy moan and placed his hand on your head

you quickly lifted your head “hand down, you can’t touch me” you said, “What?! i’m letting you do this and i can’t touch you? seriously!” he said, “Stoping complaining, it’s gonna be worth it” you said simply

You than placed your mouth back on his tip and slowly went further down, he let out a soft moan watching as his cock slowly disappeared into your mouth, you went further down your lips hitting the end, which made you automatically gag on his cock, you went back up and started sucking on his tip again, “Ugh~.. quit doing that!” he said already on edge, you glared up at him and just went back to sucking him, your head bobbing up and down on his cock, soft gags and a bit of slurping filled the room, you pulled back and spit on his tip and stroked him, “oh- fuck~!” he moaned put, you begin sucking him again but faster, you wanted him to cum inside your mouth, he quickly moaned you when you begin going fast

“A-agh~!! fuckk~! y-your so good at this!~” he whined out, you than moved your hand to his balls, and begin rubbing them a bit, he let out a loud moan and quickly gripped on the sheets, he bucked his hips up as his eyes rolled back uncontrollably, as well his hips making you take his cock deeper into your throat, he moved his legs, squirming a bit “Shit!!~ mm~! m’gonna cum! gonna cum! holy fuck!~” he moaned our loudly as his cock twitched aggressively, he quickly came inside your mouth, you swallowed every drop as his moan lowered down, you lifted your head panting

before he could speak, your mouth went to his balls sucking on them, you managed to put both in and kept sucking on both, he moaned out throwing his head back, you than stopped and looked up at him, his head was thrown back, breathing heavily as his adam’s apple bobbed up and down “Fuck baby..i forget how fucking good you are at this..” he said chuckling softly.

[kajibunny]

⟡˖ ࣪ ren kaji as your boyfriend ₊˚⊹⋆

✿ summary: relationship headcanons (ren kaji x reader) ✿ warnings: awkward silliness, some parts are a lil suggestive ✿ a/n: i love this man so much you don’t understand pls ;__; hi i'm new here and ofc my first post is abt my love, ren kaji hihi pls be nice!! ✿ wc: 960

ꕤ kaji is more than just your bf, he’s also your bff, partner-in-crime, and sometimes guard dog (lol).

ꕤ he’s a little mean, but he means well. 

ꕤ everyone in town refers to you both as each other’s “other half”, as he relies on you quite a lot. not because he wants to boss you around (well, well, iykyk second year grade captain ren kaji mode on) but because he immensely trusts you.

ꕤ you also rely on him a lot, and he is a very protective boyfriend. he won’t let anyone harm a single hair on your head if he can help it.

ꕤ lots of people thought you two were already together way before you two actually got together, since you two were always…well, together. to the point that you adapted each other’s habits and vocabulary. (you catch yourself picking up kaji's direct tone of speaking and occassional "damnit!") no one was at all surprised when he introduced you as his lover. to everyone, you two were practically married already.

ꕤ it’s either both of you are bantering or play fighting one second, then all over each other the next. if ever you two have serious arguments, he’s usually the first one to apologize and ask how he can make it up to you. kaji is very mature that way, and is scared of hurting you, as he treasures you with all his heart (and body lol).

ꕤ has this habit of putting his lollipop in your mouth - just to see what you would do. loves the faces you make when you least expect it. thinks you’re so cute like that, but of course, will never admit it out loud. 

ꕤ when agitated, he calms down when you give him head pats and tell him that he’s a good boy. (double meaning i’m telling you)

ꕤ his love language is definitely quality time! he loves hanging around with you, walking home together, having deep talks in high places like a grassy hill or rooftop until the sun rises, listening to music together while you lean on his shoulder absorbing the sound from his headphones.

ꕤ your pet names for each other are lowkey insults like “idiot, dumbass, stupid” but affectionately. it became kind of like an inside joke between the two of you. he’d say the sweetest things, then pair it with a completely opposite word, like “it’s because i love you…you fool.” and you can't tell whether he wants to fight you or if he wants to kiss you. 

ꕤ kaji likes having collaborative playlists with you. doesn’t matter if you two don’t have the same music taste, since he’s always curious about what you’re listening to. sometimes sneaks in a few hidden messages using song titles in his playlists, for your eyes only.

ꕤ during the cold season, he lets you slip your hands in his hoodie pockets, embracing him from behind, like he’s your natural heat pack.

ꕤ when sleeping together, he’s a (literal) freak in the sheets. a blanket and pillow hogger, takes up more than half of the bed, ends up in the strangest sleeping positions, and at times accidentally pushes you until you end up on the floor. 

he definitely does not mean it though, if you hug him or hold him tightly while sleeping, there’s a higher chance he’ll stay still.

ꕤ when not on the bed, kaji likes to take naps on your lap or your shoulder, because according to him “it’s comfy and soft. like a pillow”

ꕤ lets you hold his valuables - lets you wear his hoodies, lets you hold his headphones, lets you drink from his bottled water, and even lets you suck on his lollipop (the one in his mouth okay but maybe also sometimes the one in his pants asdjbjdjcnd;;) but only you are allowed, because you’re special.

ꕤ you had to learn basic first aid because kaji always ends up with many injuries after fights, and gets angry at anyone who tries to touch him or disinfect his wounds, except for you. (soft!kaji *sighs* the effect you have on him aaaa) 

ꕤ makes a barrier with you in his arms whenever you’re passing with him in a crowded or busy street, to make sure no one bumps you or gets too close to you, to keep you safe.

ꕤ kaji is naturally such a good kisser, but claims he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. he tells you it’s just because he’s eaten a lot of lollipops, so he probably practiced unknowingly with his mouth and tongue. (help this is so funny)

ꕤ so many awkward and cute moments, that makes you love your little idiot ren kaji more and more each day (if that’s even possible) 

accidentally bit your hand when you fed him food. (from that day on, woke up to the realization that he might have a little bit of a biting kink)

once tried to do a kabedon on you like you two saw in one film you watched together but ended up tripping a bit, landing on top of you and squishing you.

there was a time he asked for love advice from hiragi when you two started dating, and umemiya ended up eavesdropping on them, and kaji ran away so fast as if he saw a ghost (ref: ch 58 kaji-senpai lol)

forgot he was wearing his headphones with music on full blast and broadcasted a little too loudly about how much he missed you because “you were gone on your trip for so long” and he “wanted to kiss your annoying face” all in front of his giggly vice captains, who of course heard every single thing he said. you made sure to tease him a lot about it afterwards.

© kajibunny 2024 / all rights reserved

[oimitocat]

IF I TOUCH YA… | OS

༘۠ anton x m!reader

༘۠ nonidol! au + swimmer!anton + swimmer!reader + rivals with benefits + angst + nsfw + shower sex + technically public sex

༘۠ a/n: i’m still new to riize, please spare me. i’m sorry if this suck, i’m literally trying to get back into my writing mojo. [i’m trying because shotaro and sungchan redebuted ;( ] angst cus i LOVE angst ;)

“DAMNIT!” you growl, slamming your fist against the shower door.

anton, anton, anton.

that’s the only thing— the only name bouncing around your head. the (beautiful) idiot beat you by a—

“SECOND. A FUCKING SECOND!” you fume, the hot water running down your back doesn’t help, the steam giving you comedic energy with your emotions.

it’s a reoccurring situation, you beat him one day, he beats you another day. yet this whole week he’s been beating you by mere seconds.

“n/n…” his soft voice comes out from outside the shower stall.

“what.” you grunt, angrily scrubbing the shampoo in your hair.

you know he’s standing outside, fidgeting. what you don’t know is how fast his heart is racing, how anxious he is at the sound of you being so angry. he knows you’re competitive, he is too, yet he had always hoped it wouldn’t affect the friendship or companionship he was trying to have with you.

“the hell do you want, lee?”

he takes a deep breath, glancing back at the shower room door. almost everyone had left, except the coach which said he’ll go to his office and watch his anime.

“are you going to sulk like a sore loser or go home de-stressed?”

he jolts when your door flies open with a slam. you’re glaring at him but his eyes fly down, below your hips. he’s not hiding anything, why would he? he came inside the shower room with purpose, no towel on with purpose.

“so that wasn’t a one time thing?” you question, raising a brow.

he hesitates, looking around and playing innocent. “did you want it to?”

he gasps when you yank him by the wrist. he’s genuinely surprised at how fast you accepted the invitation, he thought you’d put up more of a fight but no, clearly you wanted your vengeance. he almost pushes you away, but your lips on his is just a beautiful feeling. this is the only time you actually give him something other than a glare or competitive comments. he’s all bark no bite, this is exactly how you two tangoed the first time, except that time you only took a blowjob from him.

left his throat sore and his tongue felt heavy during the entirety of the next day, the ghost of your dick in his mouth there.

he’s not a virgin, by no means, but he’s never done something this crazy. fucking in the shower room? what if someone forgot their shampoo or something and tries to come in? what if their coach decided to do his job and actually check up on you two for once?

you grip his hips, pushing him against the stall wall, the water still running. your lips are over his neck, nipping and kissing. he gets lost in that sensation, his hands coming up to mess with your wet hair.

your body is hot, the water burning your skin. he’s not a hot shower person, so apart from him already feeling sweaty in your hands, the steam isn’t helping with his libido. he tugs at your hair when you trail down his chest and stomach. his hips twitch forward as you go lower. he’s so hard it’s embarrassing.

“don’t look at me as if i’d help you with it.”

and you embarrass him. of course you do.

“you clean?” you ask as you come back up and eye his plush, wet lips.

his eyes are naturally doe, you almost find it cute. (who are you kidding, it absolutely is. you wanna to destroy him, corrupt him so bad).

“yeah,” his voice is always soft, yet you fell in love with how hoarse and raspy you can make it sound.

“fine, let me show you how much you piss me off,” you growl, placing your hands behind his thighs and swooping him up in one swift movement.

you grunt, forgetting how tall and built this boy is. he cling to you out of fear, his heart racing. this is new to him and doing it with you just brings out a rush he never new he’d experience. yet, despite the arousal and sexual hunger, he eyes you with a hint of perplexion. are you joking? you don’t actually get pissed off at him, right? but of what? him beating you lately or his existence in general?

he can’t ponder about it for more than a mere second before your fingers spread his cheeks apart. he hooks his ankles behind you, securing himself in your hold as you push in. you make a small, almost silent noise when your tip pushes the moist gland.

“h-hold on, grab me right,” he gasps as his arms wrap around your neck again.

“this isn’t easy, idiot,” you huff, “you’re not exactly small or light.”

he closes his eyes when some water drips from the top of his head. yet, when he feels you thrust he snaps them open and gasps.

“fuck, you’re so warm,” you grunt, pulling him down by the hips to slam into him.

it’s taking everything in you to hoist him up and move him. a hardcore arm workout, but one you know you’ll enjoy. you place a soft kiss, contrasting your brutal movements, onto his wet skin, making him moan— his neck is sensitive to kisses. especially with how wet and hot yours are.

from the rush in the moment, you build the pace and stamina to fuck him into the wall. his arms tighten around you, his airy moans echoing softly. he’s trying to be silent just in case, or at least you think. is he always this soft voiced? you grin— could you make him get loud?

you pull out entirely before slamming back inside. his breath hitches and his eyes snap open again.

“ah- oh fuck-!” he squeaks as you slam him down onto you.

his dick flops uselessly between the two of you. your fingers dig into the softness of his flesh in his ass, nails digging into him. you’ll leave marks, he knows it. yet, that’s what he’s hoping for, because where you’ll look at him nasty for doing the drills perfectly or getting praised for his renewed charts , he’ll know those marks happened when you looked at him with something other than hate.

you aim like you’re on a mission, which you are. the wet sound of skin against skin bounces around the shower walls. the running water isn’t loud enough anymore— you’re grunting as you chase your high and anton is letting out high pitched whines.

he presses his cheek against the side of your face. you feel so good, he can feel you splitting him open. he can feel the warmth of your dick inside his equally warm walls.

“y-y/n, you feel so good,” he pants out. “guess you’re good at something.”

fuck. that literally pissed you off. like, maybe not exactly in a way where his words irked you, but in the sense that it drove you to keep proving him right since he clearly wants to be right.

he grunts and moans when you get brutal. you’re growling and digging your nails into his skin.

“ah, ah,” his thighs twitch around your waist, a clear sign he’s getting close and sensitive.

you let out heavy breaths, a gruttal moan leaves your throat as you feel your climax building.

“imagine coach comes in here and sees his best swimmer getting fucked like a slut,” you cackle between your grunts. you feels his hole clench around you and you can’t help but feel amused at that. “you wanna get caught being a slut? what would the school think?” his breathing turns more erratic, “what would your daddy think?”

“fuck- y/n stop,” he tries but you just feel so good slamming into him that he just sounds stupid.

“the district stars fucking in the shower rooms, what a header,” you grin as you push your hips flush into his reddened ass cheeks, spilling deep into him.

he shudders, your warm seed sending him over the edge. he can’t even bask in the post-orgasm for a second because you pull out and set him back on his feet. you feel the pull in your shoulder blades, this is going to be embedded in your muscles for a while. yet you don’t find yourself showing any shred of care for him when you notice how wobbly his legs are.

“just watch, i’ll make sure you become a good fuck more than a good swimmer, lee.” you grunt, stepping out of the shower stall while glaring at him.

his heart aches, but he just throws you a lazy, lustful smile. because he knows that as long as he beats you, you’ll take out your anger on him.

and that would mean he’ll mean something to you. one way or another.

[jesuistrestriste]

Cowgirl reader x art when

𐚁 ✮⋆˙ needy!art donaldson x cowgirl NSFW 18+

—

art doesn’t even know why he agreed to go with patrick down south for an impromptu boys trip.

it’s stickier down there; the humidity so high that the air is practically drinkable.

the heat suffocated him and climbed down his throat the second he got off the plane, and patrick had unsurprisingly laughed at him when he developed sweat stains on his tee shirt after only ten minutes in the uber to their hotel. it wasn’t his fault, he just never handled high temperatures well.

he blamed the desert, or whatever hellish fire-breathing beast was desecrating this part of the country with such unimaginable warmth. he could hardly think straight with the way his clothing clung to his heat-prickled skin.

he regretted going on the trip from the moment they touched down at the airport. he wished he had stayed back home, then at least he could get some time on the courts. but no.

and so he ruminated on the idea that he shouldn’t have come.

that is, until he and pat went out to a bar that first night.

patrick had already gotten drunk in the first twenty-five minutes and was feeling up a stranger, staggering with them off into a booth buried at the back of the establishment to get handsy. art’s eyes had rolled so far back that he was sure the earth had almost tipped with them.

he leaned over the busy bar, sipping his underwhelming tequila soda until he felt someone different slip into the space next to him.

a woman.

a pretty—no, sexy one at that.

glossy lips, a loose tee shirt that hung off of one shoulder (pink bra strap on display), dark flare jeans that hugged her in all the right places, brown leather boots, and a cowboy hat.

she couldn’t look more typically southern. but fuck, she was hot.

she turns her head and smiles up at him, her hat tilting up with her neck’s movement to expose more of her face.

“hey,” she hums, her eyes scanning him up and down before he can even speak, “… you’re not from here, are you?”

her voice is warm and silky, like dark chocolate. it floods his brain and immediately dilutes his thoughts into incoherent ramblings.

god, why hasn’t he said anything?

say something, damnit!

“ha..! no, no.. not from here,” art chuckles out nervously after a brief clearing of his throat.

she just smirks. putting her pearly whites on display for everyone to see. or maybe just for him..?

“yeah, i could tell by the way you’re dressed.”

was.. was that an insult?

is he supposed to laugh?

shit, she smells like the most delicious—

the thoughts in his brain are cut off abruptly when he feels her hand on his chest, dragging down.

oh fuck.

“relax, city boy,” she purrs with an intoxicating drawl, her free hand taking the hat off of her own head and placing it on top of his blonde curls, “i didn’t mean to get y’all worked up.. i’ll buy you a drink, hm?”

“i.. uh, i mean— okay, yeah, uhm, sure. i’ll take a drink..”

—

an hour comes and goes, and then art somehow winds up in the back of the girl’s car; parked on the outskirts of the small gravel lot.

it’s a shiny, cherry-red convertible. fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror. a picture of a well-groomed black horse tucked into the driver seat’s personal mirror (which she flipped up once the two of them were taking off their clothes).

patrick was still somewhere in the bar, preoccupied, so art felt less guilty about letting this woman drag him out the backdoor towards her vehicle. all it had taken was one sloppy kiss, and then he was willingly trailing behind her like a sick dog.

art can hardly process that now they’re completely naked; his flushed back sticking to her leather seats as she sinks down on his cock. a shuddering groan is pulled forcefully from his chest, spilling out in the next instant. he feels his balls draw up once, twice, three times in response to the feeling of her tight cunt gripping around him, and he swears he could almost come right then and there. she’s like a fucking goddess.

“can you handle me?” she smirks down to him, starting to rock her hips rhythmically like she’s riding a mechanical bull, “i wanna hear an answer, darlin’…”

“can’t—“

ugh, he’s choking on his words. shaking hands holding her waist with the desperation of a guy who hasn’t gotten laid in over a year. he’s allowed to be a bit pathetic.

“can’t?” she repeats, bouncing now on his slicked-up shaft, her nails running down his tensing abdomen and leaving red stripes in their wake.

he shakes his head, a loud whimper and gasp following suit. his thighs are starting to tremble. toes already started curling thirty seconds ago.

“can’t— can’t last, not gonna last—“

the woman just laughs lowly and rolls her pelvis in slow circles. art’s body vaults up in response, pushing against her weight on top of him as he feels a blurt of precome erupt from his tip and surround him in the condom— daring him to disappoint her and let it all go before he gets the go-ahead.

“ohh… aah— you really aren’t from around here, are you? poor lil’ thing…”

he doesn’t know why that statement from her makes his gut stir with pre-orgasmic convulsions. he’s trying to meet her movements with his own thrusts, but he’s losing stamina fast. every buck of his body into her pussy sends a sharp bolt of pleasure right up his spine. he’s sweating almost as much now as he was when he first arrived. probably moreso, if he’s honest.

and shit, he can’t be anything but honest at this point.

she’s making him forget everything he ever disliked about this part of the country.

she’s making him feel like her pussy could solve all of his problems.

she’s making him feel like… like… like—

“oh, god—!” he hiccups, squeezing into her torso, head tipped back and biceps curling as he tries to tug her down closer, “i’m sorry, i can’t hold it— i’m gonna come, can’t— can’t stop-!”

she giggles, and then there’s the voice again. warm, smooth, low. dripping right into the crook of his neck.

“alright, city boy,” she whispers, “come then.”

and that’s all it takes.

art’s eyes squeeze shut, his jaw slacks, and he lets out the most desperate strangled cry as he feels the scorching waves of pleasure consume him from all sides. he feels his cock kick against her palpating walls, pulses of his sticky white release webbing on the inside of the latex.

he’s practically vibrating by the time the aftershocks roll around, his baby blues looking up dazedly to the smiling woman still connected to him. her hands cup his flushed cheeks, her thumbs wiping beaded sweat from his temples and his forehead.

“there ya go… thaaat’s it, darlin’… let it all out…”

art sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and whimpers as he feels his dick stir inside of her, threatening to shoot again just from her words.

“haah… ha-aahngh… hnngh,” he quakes, gasping for air and trying to calm himself down, “h-how did… ngh— how did y-you do that t-to me..?”

trying not to sound so utterly wrecked is easier said than done, he’s realizing that now. he really can’t prevent it- he’s nothing more than a limp mess underneath her perfect form.

he winces and hisses softly with sensitivity when she torturously rocks just once more over his spent parts.

“oh, honey,” she laughs, “we just do it different down here.”

… god, he loves the south.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 23 - Wherever You're Going

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: We made it, squad. It only took 400k words, but here we are. THE PORN CHAPTER. Also, if you're going to tell me that the gif is technically just Jensen Ackles, consider this. I don't care. It's in the spirits of the chapter (horny as fuck). Chapter Title from Moon River by Frank Sinatra.

Word Count: 22k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You and Ben have a lot of stuff to do. Smut. All of it. It's here, it's huge, it's horny and emotional. Usual warnings, plus so much fucking smut.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, heavy smut, fluff, love confessions

Read on A03!

Chapter 22 - Chapter 24

You can feel Ben before you’re fully awake. Your face is still pressed to his chest, one hand fisted in his shirt as the other rests near his neck, and his legs are tangled with yours, but you feel him first. Sitting inside your chest, alive and powerful and burning in a steady beat with your heart. Made entirely of love. For you.

Ben loves you.

Everything is warm and safe. When you take a long breath you can smell pine, and when you shift in Ben’s arms—wrapped around your body, holding you carefully like you might vanish—he presses a kiss to the top of your head. He’s here. Ben knows you love him, and you didn’t lose him. He loves you. He loves you and you can feel it everywhere. Even half asleep, you can still feel Ben’s love in your body, focused and devoted and growing brighter when you push your head deeper against his chest.

“I know you’re awake,” Ben’s words are low, deep—rolling from him into your bones and blood—and muttered against your ear. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

“My heart is always beating.” You grumble, words muffled in his shirt. “That’s not proof I’m awake.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, muscles flexing around you, and you make an undignified, mumbling sound, trying to tug him closer by his shirt. “Got you to fucking talk though. That’s some damn proof you’re awake.”

Your eyes are still closed, but you can see his smug grin as your arms wrap around his neck and your grumble against his skin. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Ben hums, something inside him starting to glow. “You fucking love me.”

“I do. I really do.” You sigh. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Ben snorts, and when your arms tighten around him, a hand moving up into his hair, his love starts to spread through you. Furious and consuming, waking you up and draining any exhaustion from your body or mind. This is what matters, Ben is what matters, and there’s no need to be tired when he’s here. When he loves you. You blink up at him, and he’s already watching you. He’s so handsome, face cast in the golden light of the sunset, leaking through the windows, and when you smile at him all his love bursts along your ribs.

“Hi.”

A hand drops to your ass, squeezing and pushing you further up his body, and he chuckles when you let out a downright pathetic whine. “Hi, Sunshine.”

It’s not really important who moves first, because you’ll end up right here every time. With Ben’s mouth on yours, his body rolling on top of yours as he kisses you into the mattress, and your hands tugging at his hair when he bites your lip. He tastes like Ben. There’s the coffee and salt, but it’s mostly just him. Strong hands kneading gently at your skin, dropping his tongue and teeth to your neck and leaving sloppy, wet kisses across your collarbone before returning to your face, groaning down your throat when you drop a hand between your bodies and palm his cock, straining through his jeans.

Fucking damnit, Ben’s voice is in your head, rough and low as he lets out another groan. Trying to fucking kill me.

You smile, and squeeze your hand around him. You shouldn’t have worn jeans to bed, Pretty Boy. That’s on you.

Ben freezes, and pushes up on his arms to glare at you. “We’re going to need to figure out how this mind reading shit works. I am not letting you hear every single fucking thought I have.”

Lining all the love and affection in his body is that hot, prickly and sore feeling of embarrassment, and you tilt your head at him. “What are you thinking that I shouldn’t hear, Benjamin?”

“It’s about fucking privacy-“

You wrinkle your nose at him. “No, it’s not. Try again.”

“What makes you so damn sure,“ he grumbles. “It could be.”

“Nope. When you’re dodging a question, you get deeper lines right here.” You reach a hand up to his face, tracing the outer corners of his eyes. “Because you’re trying not to glare more. Tell me what you don’t want me to hear.”

Ben rolls his eyes, catching your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. “It’s not fucking important, we have better things to do-“

“We’re not fucking until you answer my question.”

It’s a lie. Right now, when you can feel his hunger and love all around you—making you more and more alive the longer you’re touching and talking to Ben—it would be very easy for him to ignore your question, shove a hand down your pants, and make you forget completely about this whole conversation. And Ben knows it’s a lie, because he grinds down once, his dick pressing into your thigh and making you swallow a moan, and grins at you.

But he doesn’t keep going. He moves your hand—still tangled in his—to rest beside your head and drops to brush his lips with yours, muttering into your open mouth.

“See, beautiful, half the damn thoughts I have are about you. Touching you and kissing you and fucking you until you make a perfect, pretty mess on my cock. I think about all the ways I want you, about how fucking smart and funny you are, about how I love you so much that it’s made me a fucking pussy. That I don’t care, because I’m going to make you feel so fucking good, and you’re going to forget every word except my name when you cum around me. I think about how it’s a goddamn miracle I get fucking anything done when you’re sitting next to me, smiling all fucking perfect, because all I want to do is bend you over or pin you down and show you how much I love you.” Ben pulls back to watch you with a cocky smirk, squeezing your hand in his and running a thumb over your lower lip. “And one of us has to keep being productive, so if you can always hear how I’m trying not to fuck you during one of Mallory’s stupid meetings, not a goddamn thing will ever get done.”

The fact that he’s just talking to you—looking at you with dark eyes that keep dropping to your lips—and your brain has already gone a little numb doesn’t bode well for him actually, finally, fucking you. All you can do is let out a breathless moan and nod frantically, not really sure what exactly you’re agreeing to, and feel his want and adoration flash through you.

“Words-“

We’ll figure it out. You think as hard as you can, staring at him and hoping he hears. Better things to do.

He pauses, and nods. “You’re okay.”

That brings your words and speech back. Ben needs to understand that you’re okay. You’re warm and happy and safe, and Ben’s everything and yours, so you’ve never been better. “I’m okay. Promise.”

Something in Ben that had been tight around his lungs goes loose, and you know he believes you. “Good.”

“Also,” you frown up at him. “I don’t think it’s mind reading. I think it’s more about my empathy, or something, because it’s not always happening, and I can feel you sort of spike in here,” you poke your free hand at your own chest. “When we’re thinking about each other. So my guess-“ You cut yourself off with a sigh, because he’s not paying attention anymore. Ben’s hunger is roaring around inside him, and his gaze is entirely fixed on where you’d pointed. On your tits. “Benjamin.”

He looks back up at you with a scowl. “What.”

“Stop looking at my boobs, I’m talking to you.”

“I can listen to you talk and look at your boobs, it’s called fucking multitasking-“

“What did I say?”

Ben pauses, and grunts, “mind reading.”

“What about mind reading.”

“Shut up.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “I was saying that it’s not mind reading. It’s probably more about my empathy, and how I love you enough-“

Something flares inside you, inside Ben, and your words die in your throat as Ben drops his mouth back to yours in a brutal, demanding kiss that bruises your lips and makes your hands scrape at his back, makes your every thought turn to Ben. Ben, I love you.

I fucking love you too.

You moan into his mouth, loud and long, and Ben grins, his knee pushes up between your thighs.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he mutters your name, and you start to grind into him. “You can’t keep goddamn saying you love me, beautiful, you’re going to make me go insane.”

Fuck, Ben, please-

He pulls back, and you let out a high, desperate sound as he watches you. His dick, fully hard, is pressing right against your abdomen, and he’s so hungry, and handsome, and you love him-

“You want me,” he growls, and it’s all you can do not to just burn all your clothes off and beg him to fuck you.

“Ben-“

He lowers back down to your neck, leaves a wet, heavy kiss on that one spot, and wraps his arm around your waist. “Say it.”

“I want you,” your words are breathless, and he grunts against your skin. “Please, Ben, I want you, now-“

“Beg.”

“I did fucking beg, you asshole-“

He’s back on your mouth, sucking on your lips and running his tongue along your teeth, and you can feel him. Pounding against your chest, full of devotion and desire and love, he loves you, and if he doesn’t fuck you now you’re going to kill him-

Ben sits up, fully sits up, and pulls you with him until your head falls on his chest, his arms almost pinning you against him to stop you grinding down onto his legs. 

“We’re getting you some food.” Ben’s words are a low rumble in his chest, and you look up at him with wide-eyes.

“But-“

“You need the energy.” He grunts your name, eyes never leaving yours as his hand traces over the hem of your shorts. “I’m going to fuck you stupid, Sunshine, and you’re going to need to keep up.”

You swallow, trying not to drown in your own drool from how he’s watching you with a heavy lust that you can almost taste. How his hands are tracing light, gentle patterns on your skin, and how you can feel the weight of his love in every touch. He looks like an angel again. Your own love for him must be some sort of brain altering drug, because this same man has been covered in blood and guts and grime and the ashes empires he burned. His hands—holding you against him with such a tender care—have snapped necks and punched people through walls, but, still, in the golden light and shadows of dusk, and haze of how much you love him, he just really looks like an angel. Wholly and entirely the avenging, furious protector you know him to be now, and never again the blindly violent and crude man he’d become as Soldier Boy.

His eyes are so green. You’ve called him vain for how it’s his favorite color, told him what would you have done if your eyes were blue, Pretty Boy? Would green be the pussy color? But you’re no better. You love him, and suddenly the whole world is contained in Ben’s eyes. How they’re dark and pretty and his lashes are so long and you love him. His mouth is moving, but you don’t hear anything except how deep his voice is, because your eyes drop to his lips and now that’s the whole world. You want to kiss him. Kiss Ben’s whole stupid face that makes you wet just from seeing it, and make sure he really understands how much you love him. He really shouldn’t be allowed to be that handsome, it’s making you forget everything that isn’t Ben. Ben, I love you.

A big, warm hand grabs your chin, and when you blink up at Ben—cognitive function slowly returning—he’s smirking. “Who’s not fucking paying attention now?”

You scowl at him. “Cunt.”

“Brat.” Ben kisses the top of your head, moving his hand to cup the back of your head. “Hold on.”

“What-“

“Food, Sunshine.” He grins against your hair. “Then we fuck.”

You scoff, and wrap your arms back around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Romantic.”

Ben hauls you up his body, holding you with steady arms, and winks at you. “Only the best for my woman.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, burying your face in his shoulder to hide the flush of your face, and you feel the glow in him become brighter, fueled by amusement and affection and love. Focused, blinding love that makes your heart beat a little faster. It’s everything, Ben is everything, and you need to tell him that. You’ve said that you love him, he knows and he’s here and he loves you, but he might not get it. How infinite and sacred and unstoppable your love from him was. How it exists everywhere in you, everywhere in the world, how it’s as much a part of you as your lungs and heart, how it sits in your head and will remain there forever. How it feels like it’s always been there, like loving Ben was something you were supposed to do.

“You are my woman.” Ben’s words are slow, and you feel a flash of something stuttering in his chest. “I’ll never fucking lock you up, or keep you from doing anything because I love you, and I couldn’t if I damn tried, but you’re my woman.” He pauses, and you feel the bob of his throat against your arm. “If you, uh, if that’s what you fucking want.”

You smile, leaning back to look at him. His eyes are locked ahead, focused on the wall as he carries downstairs. “Ben.”

He grunts, still staring ahead.

“Benjamin.”

This time he glances down at you, stopping at the foot of the stairs, and when he mutters your name your whole body is washed in warmth. It always sounds right when Ben says your name, the way his tone and voice and cadence make you feel important, valuable, loved.

“I’ve been your woman for a while,” you whisper, still smiling softly. “Because I really, really, love you, and I’ve really, really loved you for a while.”

He nods slowly. “Good.”

“Besides,” your smile turns into a grin, broad and teasing. “Your dick is mine, so it’s only fair.”

Ben’s face splits into a grin of his own—full of teeth and joy that you can feel under your skin—and he starts to move to the dining room table. “My dick is yours, beautiful.” His hunger rushes through you, alight with fervor and so hot it makes your toes curl and your heart stumble. “And I’m going to fuck you with it until you scream.”

“You keep saying that,” you grumble as he sets you down at the table. “But I haven’t gotten fucked yet.”

“Someone’s real impatient,” he mutters—sharp affection spreading across your stomach and through your blood—and gives you one, quick kiss on your cheek before drawing back up. “All you have to do is sit there and look pretty while I get you the damn food, and then you’ll get fucked senseless. Deal?” 

You nod, and start to stand. “Deal.” 

Ben scowls, not budging from in front of you as you rise, leaving you stuck between his body and the edge of the table. “Did you not fucking hear the sit there part-“

“I have to pee, Ben.”

He pauses, looking you up and down, and steps to the side with a grunt. “Fine.”

“Why thank you, your majesty, I’m so glad you’ve deemed me worthy of taking piss-“

Ben rolls his eyes as you try to push past him, catching you by the elbow and spinning you back into his arms, kissing you fast and heavy and wet, until your knees are weak and your head is spinning. Going and going and going until you whine and start to try and climb up his body, pulling back with a smug grin and drawl. “Not in a huge damn rush to leave now, are you.”

You glare at him, shoving back on his chest as he laughs. “You’re such a fucking dick, Benjamin-“

He kisses you one last time, gentle and so painfully sweet for how much of an absolute fucking asshole he is, for how much you want him to pick you up, slam you onto the table, and fuck you. But—because he’s an asshole—Ben steps back, leaving you staring at him with an open mouth and an ache between your legs.

“Go take your fucking piss, Sunshine.” He turns, walking into the kitchen, and calls over his shoulder, “but be fucking quick about it.”

You flip off his back, and climb up the stairs in quick steps before half-running down the hallway to the bathroom.

Even with a floor and two separate doors between you and Ben, you can still feel him. Feel Ben’s imprint in your chest, humming and rolling around in content, alight with love. Ben loves you. He’s said it, he keeps saying it, and you keep believing him. All your blood is still in your body, and Ben loves you. It’s making you a little dizzy, and it still doesn’t fully feel real. You keep repeating it to yourself, trying to convince some part of you that’s still vigilant and guarded and afraid, that it’s real. It might be a little too good to be real, a little too perfect to not be a dream, but you can feel Ben and everything in the world is sharp and clear, so this is real. Ben loves you, and it’s real.

When you return to the kitchen, you find him holding a wooden spoon like it’s a weapon, beating ingredients around in a bowl with an almost violent glare.

You stop at his side, looking between Ben’s drawn, concentrated scowl and his egg and flour victim, and grin. “I think you’re winning.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he grumbles, and you giggle, leaning your head against his arm. He slows his movements, and glances at you. “Go sit down.” 

“What are you making?” You ignore his order, frowning at the batter. “Can I guess?”

“No. Go fucking sit-“

“Is it pancakes? Are you making me pancakes?”

Ben drops the spoon, turning to fully face you with a glower. “It was supposed to be a fucking surprise-”

You stand on your toes, grabbing Ben’s face between your hands and kissing his cheek, smiling against his beard as you linger. “Grumpy-“

He turns his head, moving you into a full, long kiss and walking you backwards until you’re bumping against the counter. “Fucking brat,” He mutters, something sparking in his chest as his hands drop to your thighs, a wildfire spreading through your body as he picks you up and sets you down on the counter. He glides his hands up your legs, finding a firm hold on your hips, and pulls back with a half-smirk. “You’re lucky I want to fuck you all goddamn night and need you to eat, or I’d fuck you right here, on the goddamn floor.”

“I don’t think that’s luck,” you mumble, leaning forwards until your brow is against Ben’s chest. “I think it’s mean. Some might call it blackmail.”

“How the hell is it-“

“If I don’t listen to you and eat,” you look up at him with a fake pout. “You won’t fuck me.”

He snorts. “You never fucking listen to me. And,” he squeezes your hips, kissing the space between your eyes and growling onto your skin. “Not a single goddamn thing in the world is going to stop me from fucking you. If Butcher or Mallory walk through the door to try and get us to another stupid dogshit meeting, they can shove it up their asses and wait until morning.”

“Hm.” You wrinkle your nose, even as your hands fist in his shirt. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I’ve fucking told you, we’re getting some food in you first-��� 

“I know,” you lean back, grinning at him. “You’re taking very good care of me, Benjamin. That doesn’t mean I don’t want you to just fuck me.”

Ben rolls his eyes—but you can feel the glow inside of him start to burn—and pushes off the counter before pointing at you with a glare. “Stay.”

You frown. “I am not a dog-“

“You want me to fuck you?” He growls your name, the hunger rioting between your heart and lungs, and you swallow.

“Yes please.”

“Then stay there while I make you fucking pancakes because I love you and I’m a goddamn gentleman, and I’ll fuck you however you want.”

You nod, pressing your thighs together and hoping Ben doesn’t notice the movement. “Okay.”

Ben looks you up and down, gives a sharp nod, and turns back to his bowl. It’s silent for a second as he continues to cook and you try to regain control over your breath.

“Should,” you clear your throat, watching his back carefully. “Should we, uh, talk about it?”

“Talk about what.”

“The whole, um, love thing.”

He pauses, just the smallest stutter in your chest and falter of his movements as he pours the batter into the pan, and grunts, “the hell is there to talk about. I love you, you love me. It’s fucking simple.”

You flush, and your fingers start to tap against your leg. “I mean, I guess. But there’s the whole, um, suppressant thing-“

Ben says your name, turning to glare at you, and you almost bite through the skin of your mouth. “I don’t need you to fucking explain your horrible fuckin choice to me-“

“Hey-“

“Because,” Ben’s eyes narrow on yours, and your protests falter. “I trust you. And I fucking know you,” he grunts your name, and you swallow. “You were probably doing it for some dumb, goddamn sacrificial reason that I’d call stupid-“

“I love you!” You blurt out, and Ben frowns.

“I fucking know that.”

“No,” you shake your head, gaze dropping to where Ben’s grip on his spoon has started to split the wood. “I love you. And I, I didn’t think you loved me, and sometimes when I get, um, excited-“ 

“Excited-“

“Horny,” you mumble. “When I get horny, or emotional, or I think just any emotion that’s really, really overwhelming, the empathy gets away from me.”

“Gets away from you how.” Ben’s words are so calm and steady, even as you can feel him clawing at your chest from across the room. “And the fuck does it have to do with you loving me.” 

“Ben,” you sigh, staring at his hands. “When I get horny, it escapes my body. Just like when I got home, but, um, because of sex or love. I was, I,” you take a long, slow breath, fingers moving faster against your skin. “I was worried I’d make you love me. I didn’t want to make you love me.”

He grunts your name, and you give a small nod. “Look at me.” Ben falls silent until you pull your eyes up to his face, and when you do his jaw is clenched and his eyes on yours are alight. “You trust me.”

“Of course I do-“ 

“Then trust when I say that I fucking love you. I love you now, I loved you when you were gone, and I probably loved you for a long fucking time before that. You are not damn making me love you.” 

“I know,” you whisper. “I love you too. A lot.”

Ben’s love starts to roar in his chest, and he glances back at the pancakes. “Syrup?”

“And strawberries, please.”

He nods, marching over to the fridge, and you follow his every movement. Rough and calculated steps, big, strong hands grabbing out the toppings before glancing at you and holding them up for approval. When you nod he sets them at your side, grabs out a plate, and turns back to the oven, dumping both of the finished pancakes out of the pan and presenting the plate to you with an adorable glare and powerful, resolved care running through his body. 

“Eat.”

You frown at the food. “What about you?”

“What about me.”

“You need to eat as well, Ben.” You cross your arms, refusing to take the plate. “We’re sharing, or you’re making more.”

He scowls, and you know he won’t make more. You can feel Ben’s hunger and desire and need in your body, running up your spine and sitting in your lower stomach. It’s just as strong as your own thirst, just as desperate, and so he won’t take the time to make more. Instead he grabs another plate, moves the larger pancake onto it, and narrows his eyes at you as he holds it out. “Take the fucking plate.”

You smile and let him pass it into your hands. Ben stands between your legs—he’d loaded his up with twice as much strawberries and half the bottle of syrup, but is still somehow managing to match your pace perfectly—and you’re watching each other as you eat. His eyes on yours are intent, stripping you apart and full of reverence, and you pause right before you’re done—mid bite—to frown at him.

Ben swallows so fast it looks painful. “What the fuck is wrong-“

“I love you,” your voice is quiet, tense, but you’re worried he still doesn’t get it. That Ben loves you but still doesn’t quite understand how much you love him. He needs to know how much you love him. “I love you, Ben. So, so much. I love you so much it makes me insane and stupid and reckless, but I don’t care because it makes me feel alive.” You put your plate down, freeing your hands to hold Ben’s face between them, forcing his eyes to stay on yours. “You make me feel alive, Ben. You make me so fucking happy and alive, you make me feel safe and you make me laugh and you’re such a fucking asshole, and I love you. Tell me you understand that I love you, please.”

“I understand,” his voice is low and gruff, and you smile at him. He lets out a slow, long breath, and shakes his head. “Fuck it.”

You hear his plate drop onto the counter, and before you know what’s happening Ben has one hand on your waist and the other tangled in your hair. He pauses, eyes dark and burning into you, and his thumb moves to trace over your lower lip.

“Tell me what you want.” He mutters, and it’s so easy to answer. 

“You-“ 

It’s all he needs. The words barely leave your mouth before Ben crashes forwards, kissing you like it will kill him if he doesn’t. It might. You can feel his hunger, feel how vast and consuming it is, how even as he sucks on your lips and pulls your tongue between his teeth, Ben’s still starved. His hand is dropping lower and lower, across your stomach and trailing onto your thighs, drawing patterns with rough, careful fingers that leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and when you legs move up to wrap around his waist—tugging him closer until the only thing between your bodies are the fabric of your clothes—he growls. It rumbles in his chest, pushing out of his throat and vibrating through your bones, and makes your hands curl against his face, trying to bring him further into you. Telling him to take more, take everything.

He groans your name when you drop to his jaw—biting and sucking along its sharp line and his soft beard—and pulls your head back with a gentle yank of your hair. “I’m first,” he mutters, eyes flicking between your dazed expression and swollen lips. “I touch you first.”

“Okay,” you whisper, and Ben falls down to your neck, his hand starting to move far too fucking slowly up your leg. “Ben-“

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mutters, nipping at the soft skin your throat. “I’ve never seen anyone,” he pauses, chuckling to himself and rubbing small circles on your inner thigh. “Never seen anything, as beautiful as you are. And I’ve seen a lot of fucking shit.”

“You’re,” your words fall into a long, breathless sound of need when Ben’s hand lands right over your center, warm and just resting there as his mouth attacks your collarbone. “You’re so, fuck, Ben, you’re handsome as well, you cunt-“

He grins, rising back up to meet your eyes. “You’re so fucking mean to me, Sunshine. Calling me a cunt when I’m telling you how beautiful you are-“

“You,” a strangled moan escapes your body as Ben’s hand starts to move, rubbing up and down over your shorts. “Ben, please-“

“You should be real fucking thankful I love you,” he drawls, hand tracing up your abdomen, over your stomach and up to your breasts. Squeezing one before pinching at your nipple, smirking as your back arches and you whine. “I love you so much it drives me fucking mad. You’re so beautiful it’s fucking blinding, and the sounds you make,” he leans to mutter in your ear, rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Fucking music. Would fucking live off of them, if I could. I’m going to touch you,” he growls your name, hand falling back to grab at the fabric of your shorts. “And you need to let me fucking hear how good I’m making you feel.”

You nod, hands scraping at his neck, trying not to drown in how much you love him, how much he loves you, how he’s everywhere around you and big and warm and strong and Ben.

“Words-“

“Touch me,” you hiss, and let a little bit of the blood trying to run from your body into his out. Let Ben feel your own unending love and need for him, savoring the way his hand fist in your hair and his cock starts to poke at your thigh. “Fucking touch me, Benjamin, now-”

He rips off your shorts, taking your underwear with then, and runs a finger between the lips of your pussy, holding your gaze as your mouth falls open and your head clears to Ben. Handsome and warm and safe and touching you-

“So fucking wet,” he grins, flicking at your clit and chuckling when you whimper. “Always fucking soaked for me. You love me that much, beautiful? Love me so damn much I can just do this,” he flicks you again, and presses his thumb against you until your hips start to grind into him. “And you’ll be ready for me? Take my cock nice and easy, let me fuck you right here?”

Ben-

“Aloud,” he grunts, starting to rub slow, torturous circles on your clit. “We’ll have all the fucking time in the world to have fun with the fucking mind shit later. Right now I want to hear you.”

“Ben,” you take a ragged breath, and he hums, his middle finger dropping to trace right over your aching pussy, around and over but never in. “Please-“

“Real pretty begging,” Ben’s eyes still haven’t left yours, and his cock twitches against you. “But I think I want to hear you say it again.”

The heat in his eyes is making your body melt into him, and his own love is raw and bloody, pushing up your throat and making you lightheaded. You know what he wants to hear, and it’s so easy to say it.

“I love you,” your voice is firm, louder than you’d thought it would be. But this is the most natural thing to say, and it’s the only thing that every part of your body and mind are telling you. “I love you, Ben. I love you.”

He grins, and one broad finger pushes into you, painfully slow and pausing when you clench around him. “I love you too,” Ben drops his head, eyes locked on yours, breath fanning across your mouth and lips brushing yours when he speaks. “You’re my whole fucking world,” he grunts your name, and draws his finger out before plunging another one back in with it. “And we’re going to go upstairs so I can fuck you on our bed.”

You nod, staring at him in an unfocused daze of Ben, and you’re not sure if you’re agreeing to him loving you or being his whole world or going upstairs, but they all feel equally important. Ben grins, and kisses you again, long and deep with his tongue down your throat, pumping his fingers at a brutal, unrelenting pace that makes you start to squirm, trying to give him a better angle, trying to get him to swallow your every whine and moan, make him stay against that one spot inside of you that he keeps brushing against but never just presses-

He stops. Ben’s fingers pull all the way out and he draws back, looking down to where he’s still rubbing over you, and his jaw clenches when he sees your hips jerk, your pussy squeeze on nothing as you let out a high, pained whine.

“You,” you gasp as he pushes back in once, twisting his fingers before fully removing them once more. “Asshole-“

“Impatient,” Ben smirks at you, raising his hand between your bodies, leaning back down to your ear to hiss, “and so fucking needy, beautiful. I could live off all your pretty sounds, how you beg for me and say my name, or I could just do this.”

He pulls back, using his hand on the back of your head to hold your eyes on his, and licks his fingers clean. His fingers that had been in you, that are covered in you, that made you feel like you were going to burst into flames-

Ben looks like he’s going to say something. When his fingers leave his mouth, he’s probably about to tell you so fucking good or I fucking love you or want you on my face, and if he gets a single word out you’ll cum on the counter. A single low grunt had left his chest when he’d tasted you on his hand and it had made you buck up on his chest, so there’s no way you’ll survive him actually saying something. His mouth opens, his fingers starting to move back down, and you won’t fucking stand for it. You catch his hand, squeeze it once, and use it to tug his mouth back down to yours.

It’s a shockingly gentle kiss, but when you taste yourself—mixed in with strawberry and salt and coffee and Ben—on his tongue, you bite his lip and he groans. It echoes around in your head and runs through your blood, and you fall forwards, breaking your mouths apart as you gain balance on your feet.

“What are you-“ 

You’re pressed between Ben’s body and the counter, and you can feel his dick, rock hard and straining through his pants, so you need a second before you can move. Your hand moves from his neck to cover his mouth, your brow buried in his chest, and you take a careful, long breath before you speak.

“Bed,” you mumble, squeezing his hand again. “Bed, please. Now.”

He grunts, and when you look back up he’s watching you with a set jaw and pure, bright affection in his eyes. An adoration that blooms your gut and spreads through your body, making your knees shake just from the strength of Ben’s care. His love, for you.

He’s definitely going to say something. He’s not allowed to say something right now—not while the sound of his deep voice alone will still make you fall over—so you push on his chest, just enough for him to take a step back, and start to drag him out of the kitchen and up the stairs. You’re barely up two steps when Ben tugs your hand in his, spinning you back around to face him and kissing you breathless. You’re falling over him, grabbing at his shoulders for balance as his arm wraps around you and he starts to walk you backwards, up the stairs. His mouth isn’t ever leaving yours, the kiss growing deeper and your nails digging into his skin for a better grip, and you’re only halfway up when his hand starts to trace up from your knee, to your thigh, to cup right over your pussy.

“You’re fucking dripping on the stairs,” he mutters your name in your mouth, and you whine, trying to grind onto his hand and pull him faster up the steps. “I can fix it, make you cum right here on my hand, but you have to fucking say it.”

“Ben-“ He starts to rub back and forth in rhythm with the roll of your hips, and your arms wrap around his neck in an attempt to keep your footing. “Fuck, Ben-“

“I know,” he’s grinning, the cunt, and one finger starts to tease along your slit. “Say the word and I’ll-“

“Please,” you break the kiss, dropping your head onto his shoulder. “Ben, please, you fucking-“

He moves you another step up, and the finger pushes in, pumping slowly as he rubs circles on your back. “So fucking good, Sunshine, so fucking tight and,” you start to suck and bite at his neck, and he groans. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.“ A second finger pushes in with another step, and you start to straddle the air in a desperate attempt to get him deeper.

“I,” you gasp, shaking your head as you lean further forward. “I, fuck, Ben, I need to-“

Both fingers press against that hidden, aching part of you, and your legs give out. Ben catches you before you even stumble—his smug, lust-driven pride roaring in your chest—and he lowers you gently to rest on the steps, fingers scissoring and twisting inside you, so rough and good and he’s kissing along your jaw, groaning as you whimper in his ear, going deeper-

He pulls back, eyes fixed on where his fingers are pushed inside you—moving in and out, faster and faster until your eyes start to blur—and that focused glint in his eyes makes your hand drop to his jaw to turn him up to you. Make Ben look at you, make all that intensity and unending care run through you as he pulls you apart on his hand.

When your eyes meet—affection rolling around in your body, Ben’s body—he grins. “You want to cum, beautiful?”

“Yes-“ 

His fingers pause, drawing almost all the way out, and your mouth falls open in a silent scream when he adds a third. 

“Ben, I’m-“ 

“Hold it,” he grunts, and his hand reaches up to grab yours on his face, watching you carefully. “Don’t stop looking at me.”

You nod, and Ben starts to move. He’s unforgiving, fingers moving in and out of you so fast you can’t keep up, can’t grind against him or speak or think anywhere outside of Ben. Watching you and moving inside you, and he keeps crooking his fingers for just a second before pulling out and leaving you squeezing around nothing, and you’re so close, you’re fucking drooling and making pathetic, desperate sounds, but fuck this is so good, he’s looking at you like you’re holy and his hands are so big and firm and his muscles keep flexing and you feel so good-

“I’m,” you fall backward when Ben’s hand drops to your abdomen, pressing you further into the floor, stilling the jerks and squirming of your hips. “Ben, I’m close, please-“

He hums, and twists inside you. “Look at me.”

It takes effort. It takes all the will and strength in your body to crane your neck, using your hold on his jaw to anchor yourself and meet his eyes, but fuck it’s worth it. Ben’s eyes become borderline feral, his free hand dropping to press against your clit and rub in furious, large circles, and when he hooks his fingers inside you everything explodes. You can hear the wet sounds of Ben’s movements against you and your own moans, but it’s all distant, barely breaching the haze of your orgasm. You’re bucking into his hand, grabbing at his wrist and closing your legs as your whole body shakes, and he won’t stop looking at you. He’s starving, his face is still wild with desire as he pulls you up and grabs your arms, wrapping them around his neck.

“You have no fucking idea how beautiful you are,” he growls into your ear, and you gasp as he starts to stand, keeping you steady in his arms. “Just fucking watching you cum almost made me lose it. Feeling you squeeze my fucking fingers, seeing how pretty you look when I touch you, fuck, if you look half that good cumming on my cock, it might damn kill me.” You hear the door open, and peak over Ben’s shoulder to see him kick it closed behind you.

He sets you down on the bed, hands moving up to cup your face and hold you upright as he pulls you into a long, sloppy kiss that makes you start to melt into his touch. When Ben stands back up—thumb running over where he’d bitten on your lower lip—his voice is gravely, and you can see the outline of him pushing against his pants.

“Stay here,” he mutters, eyes scanning over your body in the dark. “Need to see you.” 

You want to touch him. You want him to feel that same blissful high he’s made you feel, want to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue and to taste him cum down your throat. You want to ensure he really gets it. Gets that he’s everything, and that you love him, and that fuck you want him. You need him. You might need Ben more than you need oxygen, need to hear him groan when you take him in your mouth, hear him say your name when you suck his dick and feel his hand in your hair, feel all his love and desire for you burn you alive from the inside.

He’s moved away from you—stalked away from the bed to flip on a light—and you can see the ripple of his muscles on his back. You slide off the bed, taking a half-step before falling to your knees and waiting for him. Watching him move in the dark and not bothering to pretend he’s not the most important thing in the world. That—if he’d let you—you’d stay on your knees for Ben for the rest of your fucking life.

The switch flips, illuminating the room in a low, warm light, and Ben turns. His eyes fall right to yours, and you swallow. Hungry is becoming too light a word for how Ben’s watching you, because it’s deeper, bigger, and far more important. He’s looking at you like you’re a star that’s fallen right into his hands, and now he gets to hold you and keep the light in you burning. Like you’ve climbed out the hollows of the earth just to see him, and he’d be a fool to deny you what you’re asking. His imprint in your chest is rioting—bellowing and scraping at your ribs like it’s trying to climb out of you, out of Ben—and he’s looking at you like he loves you.

“Hi,” you whisper, and Ben nostrils flare. 

He grunts your name, and you have to press your thighs together to stop yourself from ruining the carpet. “I fucking told you I was first-“ 

“You did go first,” you start to crawl towards him, eyes still on his, and he lets out a deep, lustful sound that sends a shiver of want down your spine. “This is a two way road, Pretty Boy. I want to suck your cock,” you rise back to your knees, looking up at him with a sweet smile as you trace a hand up his leg. “May I?”

Ben’s throat bobs, one hand steadying him on the wall as the other runs through your hair. “I’m supposed to fuck you-“

“You still can,” you shrug, palming him over his jeans. “But this way you get to cum in me twice.”

“Fuck,” Ben’s hand curls on your head into a fist, pulling your head back a little further as his chest rises in uneven movements. “You’re, fucking Christ, I,” you squeeze him, and he lets out a rough hiss. “You want to suck my fucking cock?”

You nod, hands moving up his belt. “If you want-“ 

Ben rips his jeans off, and you try not to salivate when you see how hard he is. When his hand returns to your hair, angling you further back—so you’re looking up at him through your eyelashes and your mouth is perfectly level with the red, weeping head of him—you smile at him, and he groans.

“You’re so fucking-“

“Ben,” you whisper, savoring the way he shudders when your lips brush over his dick. “I’m doing the work.”

He swallows, eyes flashing. “When I fuck you, I get to cum in you.”

“You were already going to cum in me-“ 

“And,” his eyes narrow. “I get to do all the work.” 

You give him a flat look. “Any other demands for me to suck your cock, Benjamin?” 

He pauses, actually thinking about it, and mutters, “shirt off.” 

“What-“ 

“Take your shirt off. I want to see your pretty fucking tits bounce.” 

“Oh, well,” you drop your hands down to the hem of your shirt, muttering under your breath. “Since you asked so nicely-“ 

“Brat.” 

You stick your tongue out at him, letting it brush on the underside of his cock, and pull your shirt over your head. The flash of want in Ben becomes so powerful you almost give up on your whole bright I do the work idea, but your own need to touch him still triumphs. Ben’s moved his dick to rest against your lips, pressing it down against them in an inpatient, silent request that makes you grind onto the air, and you smile up at him again. His jaw is set, and he’s looking at you like you’re some sort of twisted salvation.

I love you, you feel him twitch against you, and part your lips just enough for Ben to push himself between them. Your hands fly up, one holding his thigh to steady yourself and the other prying his fingers around his cock away, replacing them with your own. I love you, Ben. Now relax and let me suck your dick.

Something fevered and bloody and starved rushes through Ben’s body into yours, and you don’t wait to hear his response—verbal or in your head—before you start moving. You take all of him in one movement, letting him bump the back of your throat, sucking as your teeth scrape lightly and your hand moves to play with his balls, then pull back as slow as you can manage. You do that a few times, feeling his muscles tense and rubbing your thighs together in a poor attempt to relieve yourself even a bit, before Ben growls your name and you have to pull yourself slightly back to blink at him.

“If you don’t stop taking your sweet goddamn time,” his jaw is clenched, his words through teeth as he throbs in your mouth. “I’m going to throw you on the bed and fuck-“ 

You suck as hard as you can, teasing his head with your tongue, and your hand starts to pump over what’s not in your mouth as you grin at him. Better? 

He groans, a vein twitching in his neck as he throws his head back, and you don’t think you’ve ever really lived before this. It’s an odd thought to have right now, when you’ve started to move your head up and down his cock, and you're getting so wet you can feel it running down your leg, but you’ve never felt alive like this, in a way that’s not a task or some sort of trial. But now you’re alive in a way that’s for you. He looks like a fucking god, and tastes like salt and earth and Ben, and the sounds you’re pulling out of his chest are so primal. It’s making you feel powerful, how this immovable man, made of steel and gunpowder and his own pure will, is saying your name like it’s a prayer. You feel alive, and perfect, and beautiful, and whatever other Ben deems you in the vulgar praise falling from his mouth.

“Fucking, god, fuck you’re perfect,” his hips have started to rut into you, and you adjust to account for them, squeezing his balls to make the movements bigger and swallowing on him when he starts to pull back. “You’re so fucking good and perfect and you look so fucking beautiful, sucking my cock all good and pretty, so warm and fuck.” His hips stutter, and you know he’s close. “You’re a goddamn miracle, Sunshine, it’s, goddamnit, I fucking love you,” his gaze drops back down to yours and you whine around him. “I love you, fuck, you have no fucking idea how much I love you-“

You pull almost all the way off, swirling your tongue over his top, and plunge back down with a moan and hollow of your cheeks. When your nose bumps against his muscled abdomen you suck on him, forgoing pointless things like breathing, and Ben makes a deep, feral noise that’s half your name and half a swear when he cums. You have to close your eyes to focus on not gagging, letting him shoot down your throat and taking as much of it as you can, but there's more than the other times you’ve done this, and you’re a little dizzy from the way his orgasm is crashing over your body and overwhelming force of his love bursting in your chest, so a fair amount gets away from you.

You’ve barely pulled off of his dick when Ben’s hauling you off the ground, kissing you with a passion and fury that sets your blood on fire, and grinning against your mouth.

“You’re too fucking good at that,” he mutters your name, and you start to squirm against him, trying chase release with the sound of Ben’s voice. “I swear to fucking Christ, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Ben-“ 

He pulls away from you, tossing you onto the bed and letting out a gruff, satisfied sound at your whimper. “I need a minute, beautiful. I got a hell of a lot more stamina than any other fucking pussy you’ve been with, but I still need to be properly goddamn hard to fuck you like you deserve.” 

“Please, fuck, Ben,” you lift your hips off the mattress, trying to show him how you might implode if he doesn’t touch you right fucking now. “Need you, I need you now-“ 

Your words fall into a heavy moan as Ben reaches out, running his middle finger up your core, pressing on your clit for only a second and smirking when you keen against him. “You need me? Need me to take good fucking care of you, beautiful? Need me to fucking ruin you with how good I fuck you, take you so fucking well it wrecks you, make you moan my name every time you just fucking sit down?”

“Yes, I, Ben, please-“ 

“Say it.”

“Ben, I love you, I need you, I want you so fucking much it’s,” his hand pulls away, and you whine. “Benjamin, you fucking asshole-“ 

“I said I need a fucking minute,” he snaps, pulling his shirt off and crawling between your legs. “But I also love you, brat, so I’m going to help you fix your horny, messy fucking problem. Get you good and well damn ready for me.” His arms wrap around your legs, hooking your knee over his shoulders and holding you still as his breath warms your center. He looks between where you’re wiggling under his hold and your wide, pleading eyes on his, and frowns. “Relax,” he mutters your name, and you pull at his hair. “I’ve got you. Always fucking got you.”

You nod, taking a long breath and dropping your head back as Ben squeezes your thighs. 

“Good,” he’s so full of devotion, his voice is so deep and easy, it washes over you and relaxes your body in his hold. “Really fucking good, Sunshine. Hold on.”

It’s all the warning you get before Ben dives between your legs, licking a long, heavy strip up your cunt and sucking on your clit until you’re panting, grinding onto his face. He chuckles at the pathetic, incoherent pleas leaving your mouth as he nips at you and drops back to tongue at your pussy, and you feel high. He’s so good at this, he knows to kiss your clit to make you roll your hips and to bump his nose against you when he plunges his tongue into your body. His beard is tickling and scratching at your inner thighs, and his grip on your body is firm and bruising and it’s so fucking hot, how he squeezes your ass every time he flicks your clit with a too light lick and he pull you further against him when he starts to tonuge-fuck you.

“Ben,” you’re breathless, one hand pulling at his hair while the other tangles in the sheets. “Fuck, slow down, I’m-“

You cut yourself off in a desperate whine, and he even though he doesn’t pause, his voice in your head is gruff. You’re okay?

He’s actually asking. There’s no order in the words, no demand for you to let him keep going. He’s just checking on you, and fuck you love him.

I’m okay. About to cum, though-

Ben yanks you up, pulling your hips off the mattress, and goes faster. He’s savage against you, growling onto your wet heat and eating you alive, making your head spin and heart beat out of your chest, so close, so fucking close to letting go, to the coil in your stomach snapping and launching you into pure fucking bliss-

Ben. Ben, I love you. I love you, please, Ben-

I love you too, beautiful, he bites your clit lightly, flattening his tongue over you before dropping back to where you need him so bad it’s almost painful. Cum for me.

You think you scream. Your whole body contracts as you hit the edge, Ben groans into you, and your orgasm hits you like a train. You’re rolling around in his grip, not sure if you’re trying to get away from how he’s setting your whole body alight or push further into him as he keeps going. Ben’s still going, kissing and licking and sucking at you until you’re clawing at his scalp, your thighs are crushing his head, and you’re so sensitive it’s almost painful.

“Fuck, God, fuck-“ you gasp, and Ben grins against you.

Had enough, Sunshine?

You glare down at him, your elbows wobbling as you try to support yourself. Get up here and fuck me, Benjamin, or you’ll lose the privilege.

He rises up, looking at you with an almost drunken haze in his eyes. “You taste like fucking heaven,” he says your name with a smirk, and one rough, warm hand snakes over your stomach to rub your still fluttering pussy. “You think you’re ready for me? Think you’re going to be able to take all of me?” 

It might kill you. He’s hard again, you can see his cock pressing against the mattress, and it’s really only hitting you now how big he is. Ben’s huge and thick, you might end up split open on him, but there are worse ways to go. For one, dying of how much you love him. How thirsty you are for Ben to just fuck you, to fill you up and make you scream, would be a lot less enjoyable death.

“Words-“

“Fuck me,” you look back up at him, and don’t care if he hears how desperate you are. “Now, Benjamin. Fuck me now.” 

The glow inside his chest erupts, and your body shakes from the sheer force of it, of Ben. 

“Do you know,” he drawls from above you, and he’s going to be a cocky asshole about this. You wouldn’t have him any other way, but if he doesn’t hurry up you might go out of your mind before he’s even inside you. “Exactly how long I’ve wanted to fuck you, Sunshine? Fuck you right? Fuck you senseless until you’re just a wrecked, hot fucking mess, until you cum so hard you see fucking stars?”

“Ben-“

“Months,” he hisses, eyes tracing over every curve of your body like he’s trying to memorize it. “You have no goddamn idea how many times I came in my hand to just the fucking thought of you, of how beautiful you’d look beneath me like this. You fucking haunted me,” he growls your name, pressing you down into the mattress as you squirm against his hand. “There isn’t a single thing I haven’t thought about doing to you, a single way I haven’t pictured fucking you like the perfect brat you always are. But,” his eyes move back to yours and he smirks. “This is beyond fucking anything I managed to dream up. You’re all fucking sweaty and horny, so goddamn wet and desperate for my cock, already got my cum on your perfect fucking tits, already so fucking wet. I’m going to fuck you dumb, Sunshine. I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

“Please,” you gasp when his hand leaves its spot between your thighs, and you can’t look away from him as he spits on his hand. “Just, fuck, Ben, just do it-“

He slaps your pussy, and you fall flat on your back from the sheer force of his love, in your body, numbing your every thought to Ben. Ben, I love you. I love you so fucking much, but if you don’t fuck me right now I’m going to kill you-

Ben laughs—rumbling his chest as he crawls over you and echoing through the room—and it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard. His hands start to trace small patterns on your hips, and when he’s hovering above you his smile is so wide. Cocky and adoring and bright, and your mouth goes slack just from the sight of it. You love him. It’s actually going to kill you how much you love him, how safe and cared for you feel under him, how he’s caging you naked between his broad chest and mattress but you’ve never felt more free.

His hand traces down your body, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers before moving lower, and you couldn’t look away from him if you tried. He’s handsome, he’s always handsome, but this is different. In the high of all the pleasure and bliss he’s pulled from your body, he’s melting and molding you against him with just the sight of him. Chiseled features and distinguished jawline, boundless, pretty eyes that are blown out with love and lust but still have a ring of that green that will follow you for the rest of your life. Full lips that you get to bite and kiss, perfect lines that draw and contract in a silent language you’ve memorized and will never forget, and dark hair that’s falling over his brow. He looks like someone designed him. Like a statue of a god whose only job is to worship. Some sort of ironic deity who’s dedicated to caring for whoever loves them, whoever really, truly, purely loves them the way you love Ben.

Your hand rises up, brushing away the hair from his eyes because you can. Because Ben is yours, and you love him, and you feel a little infinite when his muscles flex around you and the love in his body flickers with something soft. Your eyes move slowly back down from his forehead to meet his gaze, and you don’t think anyone’s ever looked at you like that. With such a burning, wrathful, devout and world-ending reverence. Your hand moves to rest against his beard, and you try not to be too smug about how he leans into it.

“Hi, Benjamin.” You whisper, and when he grins at you, you can’t stop your smile from overtaking your face.

“Hi, Sunshine.” His head drops to your neck, and his words are muffled on your skin. “Ready?”

You nod, swallowing when he twitches again your thigh. “I love you.” You mumble, spreading your legs as Ben lines himself up against you and leaves an open-mouthed, adoring kiss on your pulse point. “I really fucking love you, Ben. You have no idea-“

His mouth crashes up into yours, and you moan as he kisses you breathless and dizzy into the mattress. “I have some fucking idea,” he mutters, and his imprint in your chest becomes consuming. Rushing your body with focused, primal, raw and bloody ardor and love. Ben loves you, loves you so much it shakes the earth, and you make a happy, easy sigh when he draws back, brow pressed to yours and his voice is hoarse. “I love you too. A fuck ton.”

You give a small smile, hands playing with his hair between your fingers. “A fuck ton, huh? That’s a whole lot, Pretty Boy, are you sure?” 

He snorts, “brat,” and pushes into you.

There’s no resistance. In the wake of Ben touching and tasting you, of saying every foul and teasing thing under the sun all while mixing it with small reminders that he loves you, you’re so wet you could probably solve a drought in a small country. But he’s still going slow. Ben’s moving into you so slow that you can feel every single inch of him, filling you up and making your legs shake before he’s even halfway to bottoming out.

You squirm slightly, trying to adjust to accommodate him further, and he hisses in your ear. “Stop moving.” 

“Stop going so slow-“ 

He swallows your protests with his mouth over yours, and shoves the remainder of him into you with one movement that makes you gasp, your hands curling in his hair as he hits that one spot, then goes further. Ben’s in you, just resting in you without any relief or movement, his head still resting against yours. It’s the only boundary left between you now, skin and muscle, because Ben’s imprint in your chest has spread to cover every inch of your body and make it impossible to know if all the love when your legs move up to lock around him is his or yours. It’s Ben and you, the same in every way that matters, with your breathing in a matched, ragged rhythm and your whole body aware that this is it. This is everything. Ben’s whole body is pressed to yours, his arms tensed over you, and when you squeeze around him once, just to see what happens, he makes a low groan that sets your blood on fire.

He grunts your name, watching you with that awe in his eyes mixed with starvation, and this time the squeeze is involuntary. “I told you to stop fucking moving.”

“I’m not moving-“

Ben gives you a look that almost melts your body, because it’s so dry and grumpy and adoring and hungry, and fuck you love him. “You are moving.” He thrusts once in the smallest, most painfully good movement you’ve ever felt, and your mouth falls open. “I can fucking feel you moving, Sunshine. I can feel you everywhere,” his words are being muttered against your slack lips, and there’s a light dancing in his eyes on yours that makes you a little dazed. “You’re so fucking tight, taking me so fucking good, so perfect under me, fucking full of me.”

He rolls his hips once, and you moan, trying to grind up into him. “Ben, please-“

“I do the work,” he grunts, voice strained and something molten running around in your gut. Ben’s gut. Fuck, it really doesn’t matter because he’s talking again, and his voice has never been so low and demanding, sending a shiver up your spine. “You lay here and let me fuck you until your smart fucking mouth is screaming my name and your pretty eyes are rolling back in your head.”

Please-

“Words,” he snaps, eyes narrowing. “Need to fucking hear how stupid I fuck you, beautiful. Hear what I do to you.”

You swallow, pulling the words from some far corner of your brain that’s been pushed away by the song of Ben in your body, and almost lose them again when he makes another small, torturous movement inside of you. “Fuck, Ben, please-“

“There it is,” he grins, voice teasing and a hand moving to cup your cheek. “Was that so fucking hard.”

“I’m,” you take a long, strangled breath as he tilts your head back, kissing across your face but never on your mouth. “God, fuck, I’m not the hard one-“

He chuckles, pulling back to watch you with that reverence, and you’re alive and love him and if he doesn’t do something about that soon you’re going to murder him. “Such a fucking brat,” he mutters, pulling himself out in one, smooth motion and watching your eyes widen. “So fucking beautiful, fucking needy, and I haven’t even really fucked you yet-“

“Benjamin-“

“Say it like that,” he grunts through his teeth, only the head of his cock still pressed inside you. “Keep fucking saying it like that.” His hand moves back to tangle in your hair, and you wiggle under him, trying to bring him back into you. “God, you’re so fucking good-“

“You’re such a fucking dick-“

“You love me.” Ben grins, pushing in just enough to make you whine. “And you love my fucking dick.” His eyes scan your face, and his words lose the taunting, playful tone. “I fucking love you, Sunshine. Look at me.” You blink at him, and he kisses you once, moving just a little further back in. “I love you so much it’s going to be the fucking death of me. Makes me lose my goddamn mind, how much I love you.” He rises back up, and everything in him is devotion. You can feel it, somewhere so deep in your chest and wrapped around your body, that Ben’s love for you might be the most powerful force in the universe. That it’s fitting so perfectly with your own love, you can barely tell the difference.

“Ben-” 

“I love you,” he says your name, gaze dropping to watch himself push all the way in, a low groan leaving his body when he pulls out with the most sinfully wet sound you’ve ever heard. “You’re the love of my fucking life, and you were goddamn made for this.”

“Just,” he pushes back in, and your head falls back. “God, just fuck me-“

He pushes your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Don’t stop looking at me.“

“Ben-“

His face cracks into a grin, his hand carefully moving your brow so he can give it a gentle, deceptively sweet kiss, and a low grunt leaving him when you make small, wanting noise. He draws himself back above you, and he’s everything. He’s firm and strong and wrapped around you, twitching inside you and running through your body, and all your words have devolved into desperate, pathetic moans.

His voice is low, eyes never leaving yours as he leans down, lips brushing with yours. “And fucking beg.”

You’re past dignity. Ben’s stretching you open around him, hitting every single spot inside your body that makes your head spin, and the warmth of his body, his touch, the feeling of his love, is making your brain fall into a natural, easy pattern of Ben. “Please,” you whisper, your stomach tensing and heartbeat picking up just from the unyielding attention of Ben’s gaze, peeling you apart for him to know and care for and love. “Please, Ben. I love you, but please fuck me before I lose it.”

You can feel his mouth curl into a smirk, feel him leave your body again, and any protests or pleas or curses die in your throat when he speaks, muttering against your lips and squeezing waist.

“Good girl.”

Something hot and wrathful shoots through your blood, your whole world going blurry with the ache and need for him, and Ben finally starts to move. Slow, with long, deep thrusts that make your mouth slack and a little drool run over your lips, his warm, firm weight over your body pinning you down and stopping any attempts to grind on him and take more.

“Already so fucking wrecked beautiful.” Ben’s lips are still brushing yours, and he grunts when your tongue darts out to try and lick him. “But you need to look at me.” 

Your eyes shoot open, and you swallow when you see how close he is. His nose is bumping yours, breaths trading between lungs, and his jaw is clenched as he starts to angle his hips to hit you deeper, a powerful, craving fervor shooting between your bodies when you clench around him.

“There you are,” he kisses you once, soft and gentle, and you whimper as his pace starts to pick up. Finding a steady beat where he doesn’t pull out quite as far, but still ruts back into you and slams against your cervix. “Christ, you’re tight. Goddamn perfect, fucking squeezing me like that, so fucking good-“

You moan, your hands tugging at his hair and your arms wrapping around his back, the muscles of them flexing with every movement and god he’s so warm, you feel so full-

“Fucking knew how good you’d be, under me all pretty and dumb from my cock. Fucking soaking me, driving me fucking insane with how wet and tight and perfect you are, could spend a fucking lifetime here-“

“Ben, please-“

“You want that, Sunshine? Want to spend forever fucking impaled on my cock?” His tone is taunting again, but you’re too far gone to care. His big, calloused hand is rubbing firm patterns on your waist, and he keeps bumping against a part of you that you hadn’t been aware of before. A soft, spongy and sensitive place in your body that’s making your whole pussy contract around him, driving any sort of coherent thought out of your brain as it all fades to Ben. Deep words that you only half-understand, ripping you open and apart without even trying, ardor and passion and furious love coursing through your every nerve and making your blood electric.

You whimper, scraping at his neck and unable to unlock your gaze from his. Ben.

“Fucking words.” He rolls his hips with this movement, and you moan. “Say my fucking name, beautiful. Tell me how fucking bad you want me.”

“Want you,” you whine, trying to chase his mouth and squirm in his hold. Get just a little more friction. “Fuck, Ben, I want you so bad, I need you-“

He hums, and grins at you. “Say you love me.”

“I love you, Ben, please, more-“

“Tell me how it feels.”

“Good, so fucking good, you’re so big and, fuck, it’s so good, need more-“

He grunts your name, and when you fall back enough to earth to really study his face, it’s serious. “Say that you know I love you.”

“You love me,” you whisper, he starts to move faster. Slamming in and out of you with an abandon, his hand on your waist kneading and pulling at your skin in a perfect fucking pain. “You love me, Ben, I know you love me-“

You’re high. Ben kisses you, devouring every single moan and scream of his name, chewing them with teeth on your lips and running his tongue over the roof of your mouth, and you’ve never felt this good. He won’t stop moving now, the bed is creaking under his brutal and almost feral movements, and he’s everything. You can’t think, can’t speak, can’t do anything but claw at the rippling muscle of his back, grind up into him, and gasp when his hand traces over your abdomen to your clit, giving you feather light, teasing flicks as he rams into your body.

“Please,” you gasp, and the pad of his finger presses against you just as he rips back into you. “Benjamin, please-“

“So good,” he mutters, lips still never fully leaving yours. “You’re so fucking good, Sunshine, fucking Christ you take me perfect. Fuck, I love you, you’re so fucking hot all wrecked on my cock, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen-“

Every word of his filthy, foul praise is setting you on fire. Ben thinks you’re good, and you’re molded against him perfectly, and fuck, Ben-

It would be overwhelming if it wasn’t the closest thing you’ve felt to heaven. How Ben’s so deep in you—feels so right snapping his hips against you and driving his dick inside you—that you’re not sure how you’ll fare once he pulls out. How this is ruining you, because you feel fucking alive and Ben is worshiping you in way that makes you think he has some sort of guide to your body. How to run a thumb over your nipple when he wants you to spasm under him, how to time it with every ripple of his muscle so that your whole body goes limp in his arms. How to kiss you deeper when he’s pulling out, and suck on your lower lip when you start to whimper for more friction. How all his ministrations and effort and love for you is making your blood start to burst out of your body, how you trust him so much you don’t care to try and hold it back.

Ben’s movement stutters inside you, and he moans. His finger on your clit jerks as his whole body tenses, and kisses become brutal. Sloppy and desperate, the sounds he’s making causing your legs to spread wider, your hands to rake up and down his back like you can make him move faster.

“Close,” you manage to push the words out, and Ben’s movements grow more and more uneven. “Close, Ben, fuck-“

“Think you can cum with me?" He growls, and you nod frantically as his finger on your clit starts to rub fast circles that set your pussy on fire. “Think you can be a good fucking girl for me, Sunshine, and fucking drench my cock? Let me fill you up like you deserve?”

“Yes, Ben-“

“Cum,” he orders, saying your name down your throat, and your whole body lights up. Your release, wet and warm, falls out of you, and you’re too fucked out to even care that you forgot to warn him. It’s all pleasure, racking through your body and the world grows fuzzy everywhere but Ben. Still jerking inside you as his hot cum shoots into you your pussy, spreading a kind of blissful ease and sense of belonging through you, groaning your name between your parted lips, muscled, strong arms wrapping around you and rough, big hands touching your with a soothing reverence as you burn.

You’re burning, and Ben’s right there with you. Inside you. His own orgasm is doubling the force of yours, and he’s everything good in the world around you.

But you’re not actually on fire. There’s light and smoke all over your body, but the sheets are still soft under your bare skin, and Ben’s hair and skin between your fingers isn’t being scorched and twisted. Ben is still all around you, movements stilled and making deep sounds that roll through your bones as he finishes inside you, but it’s not just that. Your bodies are still both salty with sweat and cum, and the taste of coffee and strawberries should be long gone from Ben’s mouth, but all your senses are invaded with pine. Ben and pine and vanilla and strawberry. When you blink up at him, he’s glowing. It’s a misty haze of Ben, and it’s the whole world. The whole room is cast in a green light, like you’re under the ocean or in depths of the forest, and the whole world is Ben.

As you come down, Ben’s brow falling to yours and your whole body relaxing in his arms, the light fades, and you’re left with every nerve in your body ablaze and your every thought addled with Benjamin. I love you, really love you. Please do that again, I need you to do that to me again, that was good. Really good. You’re really fucking good, Ben, and I love you.

But things like words are still far away from your brain, so when you keen against him all you can do is make a loud and choked sound that you don’t fully understand, but Ben somehow manages to.

“I know, my love, I’ve got you. Always fucking got you.”

That’s new. My love is new, and god it’s going to drive you out of your mind. He loves you. Ben loves you, and you’re his, and he’s got you. It kickstarts your brain, and you smile, fully smile, up at him. Handsome and proud and watching you with a devotion you can feel in your blood. Your blood, all yours and twice as strong with Ben mixing with it.

“I love you.” It’s so natural to say. You’re supposed to say it, and he’s the only one who’s really meant to hear it. There’s so much love for him, tearing through your body and igniting your head, and nobody but Ben would have to resolve and will to take it all and throw it back to you. “Benjamin,” you mumble, your hand gliding up his neck to tangle in his hair. “You’re, I love you.” 

He nods, head dropping lower to press against your neck as he settles above you, just holding you. Tracing gentle patterns on your skin and touching you in that reverent, careful way. “I love you too, Sunshine. You’re the goddamn light of my life, and I love you so goddamn much.”

You hum, and your smile feels right. All of this feels right.

You make real fucking good sounds when you cum on me, as well. Squeeze me like a goddamn vice. A pause, and then, are you a fucking squirter?

You glance down between your bodies, and shrug. Sometimes. That was kind of a small one though. I’ve been known to cause plumbing issues.

His hands still on your body. Are you fucking with me. 

No. I do squirt. Not always, but sometimes. I know it’s messy, I should’ve told you-

You’re going to do that again. I’ll fucking kill someone to get you to do that again.

You giggle, slowly combing fingers through his hair, basking in the weight of Ben above you, the heat of his body relaxing your every muscle. Horny old man.

I just fucked my woman, I’m allowed to be as fucking horny as I want. There’s a pause, and his head moves up, chin resting on your chest as he glares at you. And I’m not old.

I’m your woman, you grin at him, and a sharp flash of something prideful and insatiable runs over your skin. You’re not sure if it’s yours or Ben’s, and you don’t think you care to know anymore. I’m allowed to call you old all I want. Should’ve chosen a nicer girl if you didn’t want to be reminded that you’re a fucking dinosaur.

Don’t want a nicer girl. He wink. I love my bratty, mean fucking pain in the ass.

That shouldn’t make you almost cry, but it does. You blink at him, and even in your head your voice is soft. I love you, Benjamin. You’re a grumpy man-child, and I love you.

He swallows, kisses your cheek, and starts to rise away from you.

You scramble up on your forearms, watching him with wide eyes. “Come back-“ 

“Unless you want to sleep covered in fucking cum,” Ben drawls, glaring down at you in a way that’s not going help any argument to let him leave the bed. “I have to go to the bathroom so we can clean you up.”

“I don’t care.” You reach to his shoulders, trying to pull him back fully over you. “We can shower in the morning-“

Ben’s face splits into a cocky grin. “We?”

“Yes, Ben, we-“

“No tears,” his eyes narrow, scanning over your naked body with a gaze that’s meant to be purely analytical, but still makes you press your slightly sore thighs together. “You’re okay.”

You smile at him when his eyes find yours again, your whole body wrapped in his stone concern. “I’m okay. I just want you here-“

That’s all it takes for Ben to fall back onto you, and your hand moves up to trace the defined muscles of his shoulder, only for him to catch it and kiss your knuckles.

I’m here.

Something in you melts, and you lean up to kiss his cheek. Thank you.

Don’t.

No. Thank you, Benjamin, you cunt.

He grins at you, and squeezes your hand. Brat.

“Can I ask you something,” you say aloud, and Ben gives a small nod for you to continue. “How long have you, um, known? That you love me?”

“Few weeks,” he mutters, watching you carefully. “Loved you longer, though.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t fucking matter-“

Benjamin. You give him a flat look, and he sighs, the prickly, sore feeling of embarrassment on his skin returning.

“I’ve never, fuck,” he pushes the words through teeth, hand tight around yours. “I’ve never loved a damn person like I love you. I didn’t get it. I’d do fucking anything for you,” he snaps your name, and you’re almost amused by how annoyed he sounds. “And I know you probably fucking got it right away, but I’ve never been in real love, fucking apparently, so-“

“Ben,” you whisper, words gentle but firm, just enough to make him stop ranting. “I have been in love before, and this does feel different. It took me a while to get as well.”

His jaw is still clenched, but something loosen in his gut. “How long.”

“I don’t actually know,” you shrug. “I realized a few months ago, and it felt like I’d always been in love with you. I, um,” you swallow, squirming a little under the intensity of Ben’s gaze. “I just didn’t really care how long I’d actually loved you. It’s something that felt like a part of me, so I wouldn’t even really know where to start figuring out where it came from. I know that I love you, and that’s it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me,” he mutters, eyes scanning over your face. “If it’s been goddamn months, why didn’t you just fucking say something.”

“I didn’t think you’d love me,” you mumble, staring at Ben’s jaw, unable to fully meet his eyes. “And I don’t, um, I couldn’t risk losing you if you didn’t want me like that.”

“Don’t be fucking insane,” he snaps, and you swallow. “Even if I was so much of an idiot fucking pussy not to love you, I’d never fucking leave you. As long as you want me here, I’m going to be right at your goddamn side. You burn, I burn,” he grunts your name, and you smile. “That’s fucking that.”

“You burn, I burn,” you whisper. “And I do want you here, Ben. You’re my best friend, and I like having you here.”

“Good,” he mutters, dropping his brow back to your body. “I like fucking being here. You should get some sleep.”

“We just spent all day sleeping-“

Wrong. His voice is stern and low in your head, his arms wrapping around your waist. We just spent all night fucking. MM said we’ve got a meeting with the team in the morning, Sunshine. And you still need the rest.

You sigh. But-

I’ll be right fucking here. Sleep.

Overall, you’re going to have to figure out how to combat that particular effect he has on your body. How to use it selectively, like when he’s telling you to cum. But, right now—with Ben sprawled naked and warm above you, his hands kneading and rubbing on your skin—you let the hum of Ben’s love in your chest wash a comfortable, easy sleep over your mind. 

You don’t have nightmares, or dreams. It's a restful, calm sleep that you wake up from in what feels like a blink, that makes your every thought clear and your body feel fresh as you watch the light of dawn break. Ben’s still above you, his snores filling the room, and you smile. This is right where you’re supposed to be. In a bed that smells like pine and belongs to you, with a warm, handsome man you love so much it will kill you, having tangled your legs with his in sleep and holding you so tight you’re trapped beneath him. You could burn him, or poke him, or slap him to wake him up, but you don’t really want to. Ben looks so peaceful, so content and comfortable, and you love him too much to wake him up.

And then he shifts around you, his fully hard cock poking into your upper thigh, and he needs to wake up now. He’ll have a lifetime, several of them, to sleep all lazy and content above you, but right now you’re still sensitive from last night—still aching for him and desperate for him everywhere—and you’re not doing this again. His breath on your neck is starting to pick up, he’s started to rut against you, and when the low, grumbled sounds of hunger start to leave his mouth, that’s it.

“Ben,” you hiss, leaning down to speak in his ear, and his hips jerk, almost drawing a whine from your throat. “Benjamin, wake up.” 

He mutters your name, and you start to push him up, off of you. You can feel your pussy start to contract around nothing—he’s not doing you any favors by pressing his tip of him against you in his sleep—and you at least need him off of you so you can take care of yourself.

“I swear to fucking god, you cunt,” you forgo a soft, quiet tone, and your voice rises to a loud snap. “If you don’t get your huge fucking ass off of me, I’ll-“

Ben’s eyes shoot open, finding yours in a second, and your words turn into a squeal as he sits up, pulling you onto his lap in one, fluid motion.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he mutters, voice gruff and heavy with sleep, and you can still feel him pressed against your ass. “What’s so fucking important you had to wake me up from my very good dream about you?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “You were on top of me.”

“I’m always on top of you,” he winks, and your body is very traitorous, letting that movement—combined with how his chest is still bare, and his lips are a little swollen from sleep, and’s the most attractive man alive whom you love very much—send a spark through your body, right into your pussy. “What’s wrong.”

It’s easier to show him, so you grind down on Ben once and his hands tighten on your hips.

“You have a problem, Pretty Boy.” You give him a too sweet smile and heat flashes between your cores. “Couldn’t let you deal with it yourself.”

His nostrils flare, and he bucks up into you once, making you almost collapse of his chest. “Don’t think I’m the only one with the fucking problem, beautiful. Think we can help each other?”

“Maybe,” you lean down to speak against his lips, and Ben slides you further up his lap. “How would you want to help me?”

“Right here,” he grunts, eyes dropping down to your tits—pressed against his chest—and where you’re straddling him. “Fuck up into you. See if you can take me going slow this time. If I can make you so fucking dizzy I need to carry you to the dining hall.”

“Oh, shit,” you mumble, starting to twist in Ben’s lap. “The meeting-“

“We’ve got time,” Ben’s hands hold you firm above him, and when you turn around to frown at him, his eyes are narrowed. “Plenty of fucking time, my love. All the damn time in the world for me to fuck you, take real good care of you, and get you in a hot shower before Mallory starts being a fucking bitch about how we’re late.”

You stay against him because he called you my love again, and it’s doing something to your brain that makes the world bright and happy. You still manage to glare at him, though, and snap, “how long.”

“Two hours.” He grins, pushing slightly up into you. “Two long fucking hours for me to make you moan.”

If you were a stronger woman, if you weren’t so blinded by love and lust and thirst and Ben, you have him and he loves you and you can feel it and fuck anyone who tries to take that away from you, you’d have rolled off of him, given him a sharp glare, and said Benjamin, we have work to do, you can fuck me later.

You are not a stronger woman. But Ben’s cock is pressed right against you, his hips are rocking just enough for him to slide easily between your folds, and he’s watching you with a drunken, high look in his eyes, so you think you’ll be able to find peace with that. All your love is spreading between Ben and your minds and bodies, and it’s making him look a little feral, so you think you’ll survive being susceptible to his low voice and handsome face.

You fall onto him, pressing your lips against his in a heavy, long, deep kiss, and you grin. Prove it.

He’s not bothering to prep you this time, but you’re so wet you can hear it when he shifts you into a better position, so it won’t really matter. Ben runs one finger between your pussy lips, spreading them open as he slowly pumps his cock, and when he guides himself to line up against you, he pauses.

“Gonna go slow, Sunshine,” he grunts, and you nod. “Arms on my neck.”

You listen to him mindlessly, wrapping yourself around his body, and it only takes one, deep thrust for Ben to push himself up into you.

He lets you move on him. His head is falling to your chest, one big, rough hand palming at your tits, and when you roll your body above him he just takes a sharp breath and lets you move. You start to bounce on him, your mouth pressed against his brow and his hold on your waist growing bruising, and when he starts to suck on your throat with a fervor you almost scream. He yanks you down, stilling your motions as he throbs inside you, and he bites at your pulse point with a flick of your nipple.

Slow, his voice rumbles in your head, and your breath hitches. One more chance, beautiful, then I’m taking over.

You nod, and his thumb soothes the hurt on your breast as you start to grind down onto him. You let every whimper and moan and sigh leave your throat, savoring the way it always makes Ben jerk inside you. He’s still touching you—slow and gentle and leaving goosebumps whenever his hands ghost over a new area of skin—but the most he does is a groan against your collarbone that rolls through your body, or a buck of his hips when you clench around him.

“Real fucking good,” he grunts your name, voice muffled on your body. “So good, riding my cock all pretty and sweet. Making all those perfect fucking sounds for me, Christ-“

His hand on your hips has moved up, pulling you so close your heartbeats are in time and your teeth are brushing against his ear when you moan. You make a choked gasp when you roll your hips on a circle, feeling every twitch of him inside you, and every single word Ben says is making a hazed pleasure spread through your body, making you squirm above him.

“Let me fucking hear you,” he rubs your nipple between two careful, broad fingers, and you give him and loud, deseperate, pleading, moan. “Good girl, so fucking good.”

Please, Ben, more- You gasp when he switches his attention to your other breast, and Ben chuckles.

“You like that, Sunshine? Like me inside you, like feeling how perfect you fit over me, how, fuck,” you’ve started to rock back and forth, and his hand drops from your tits to brush over your stomach, down to your clit. “You feel so fucking good, so good and fucking beautiful, I fucking love you, love how good you take me, how you say my fucking name-“

Ben-

“Just like that, fuck, you’re so fucking good, fucking, Christ, you need, fuck-“ 

Suddenly you're still, Ben’s hand moving around to press on your lower back, and realized you’d started to ride him again. Fast and rough, lost in his words and how he was saying your name like a prayer, how Ben is everything, you should give him everything-

“I told you we were going slow,” he mutters in your ear, and you can’t stop your breathless moan when he starts to fuck, up, into you, and his groan sending electricity through your body as you squeeze around him. “You didn’t fucking listen, brat, so now it’s my turn.”

He’d tricked you. The fucking asshole had known what all the praise would do to you—it was like he’d studied just what say to wreck you with only his words—and had baited you into it. Called you good girl and pretty and said it in that way that echoed in your ribs like a drum, that made you crave more, to make you move faster on him. You know Ben, you can feel how smug and prideful he is, how the glow is being hounded by a cocky, massive sense of triumph. He’s grinning against your shoulder, and you’re going to give him hell for it.

Later. You’ll shove his chest and slap his arm later.

Right now you can’t really dwell on how much of a dickhead he is, because he’s holding you tight against his body and splitting you open on his cock. It’s so slow, he’s set and unrelenting pace of torture when he knocks against the deepest part of you, rolls his hips, and pulls almost fully out before driving back up in a lazy, unhurried, and careful thrust.

You’re going to kill him. You make empty threats like this all the time, but this one you mean. He’s such a smug bastard, and this feels so fucking good, and you’re so full, he’s holding your with such care and love and your name is falling from his lips like it’s holy, but you’re going to kill him. He’s dragged you right to the edge, but won’t just push you over it.

“Benjamin,” you hiss, the needy and high tone of your voice not selling how genuine close you are to punching me. “I need you to go faster, I’m so close-“

“I want to fucking feel you,” he grunts your name, and you shake your head and tug at his hair. “You feel so good, you just need to wait. Patience is a virtue, beautiful, you just have to hold on and wait.”

You whine, and his hand moves back to trace around your clit, but never right over it. “Ben, please-“

“Almost,” he mutters, running his thumb over you for a split second, making your whole body shiver. “So good. I fucking love you, Sunshine, want you to cum with me.”

“Please-“

Ben’s last thrust, powerful and rough as he pinches your clit, sends your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. He’d pulled a little further out, sucking on your neck as you shake in his arms, and you can feel his cum dribble out of you, running down your thighs. As your moans and curses fall into slow breaths and whimpers, Ben leaves gentle, reverent kisses up your jaw and across your check. Your head tilts down on instinct to catch his mouth, and he hums as your tongue runs over his lips.

You’re caged against Ben’s body, his arms flexing around you as he holds you, and you’ve never felt safer. This is where you belong. All your blood pouring out your body with love, and Ben’s own love so demandingly devout it makes you rest against him without any fear. Only love.

You love Ben, he loves you, and he’s where you belong.

——————

Ben was pretty sure that, at Vought Tower with Butcher and Maeve and Homelander and Annie, he’d actually just fucking died. Someone had figured out how to kill him, an awful misjudgment or error had been made, and he’d ended up in heaven. Or some sort of fucking purgatory, testing him to see if he’d be worthy. If Ben would stand at Her side, wait for her, do what she told him and only sometimes bitch about it. Love Her like she fucking deserved. Earn paradise, prove that he wasn’t a disgraceful, undeserving piece of shit, prove that—if this was heaven—he’d tend to it and care for it and worship it for the rest of his goddamn life.

Of all the possible options for why She loved him, it was the made the most fucking sense. Everything else, in comparison, seemed pretty fucking stupid. This was heaven. She loved Ben, he’d gotten to hear her say it, gotten to fucking feel her around him, and he hadn’t died at Vought she’d certainly fucking killed him there. Squeezing him, moaning his name and scratching his back and Her heart racing in her chest from what Ben did to her, loving Ben and letting him feel it.

It had hit him again. Buried deep inside Her, that high, infinite feeling had crashed through his body, and he’d almost fucking lost it. It had been Her love, for fucking Ben, everywhere around him and making the whole world better.

He’d almost cum just from that alone. He’d never stop being in awe of Her for a whole lot of goddamn reasons, and being able to just fucking live like that was now one of them.

Ben had, in a truly futile effort, tried to convince Her to just stay in bed for the whole goddamn day. The team could take care of it. This might be their problem, but they deserved at least one fucking break. One day for Ben to see if there were in fact limits to their supe stamina, if She’d look just as perfect as she came when she was riding him. Pressed against the wall. Bent over the couch or sitting in a chair, slammed against the floor or squirming against him in the shower or bent over a table-

It hadn’t worked. He’d been very descriptive of all his ideas, very open to suggestions as well, but after many minutes of Her shooting down all his arguments with good fucking points and smart fucking words, she’d crawled away from him, rolling off the bed, and he’d had to follow her into the bathroom for his promised shower.

He’d moved around Her, turning on the water, and she’d glared up at him.

“We’re already going to be late, Benjamin-“

“And who do you have to blame for that, Sunshine?” He’d grinned at Her, and she’d wrinkled her nose at him.

“You’re the one who hid my phone under the pillow,” She’d snapped, crossing her arms and pushing her pretty tits up to fucking taunt him. “That’s sabotage, you cunt. You’re not allowed in my shower.”

“Our shower-“

“Shut the fuck up, Pretty Boy.” She’d pushed his arm lightly, and Ben hadn’t even swayed. “If I let you in here, you’ll just try to fuck me and we’ll be even more late.”

Ben shrugged. He would do that. He’d been planning to do exactly that, but he’d also be damned if he was ashamed for wanting to show Her how much he loved her at any given opportunity. “I will, but you can just fucking tell me no. I’ll stop, and we can have a boring, sex-free shower.”

She’d flushed. “No. Stay out here.”

He’d grinned. She was almost pouting at him, but had stopped trying to shove him away, and her pretty eyes were blown out. “You want me to fuck you in the shower-“

“Fuck you-“

“I know,” his voice had been gleeful, his smile almost straining his face. “You never have a problem telling me. You don’t fucking want to tell me no.”

“Shut up-“

“Here’s the deal, beautiful.” He’d leaned over Her, watching her swallow and smirking at the slack, thirsty expression on her face. “I won’t try to fuck you. Won’t even damn mention it, because I’m a fucking gentleman and I love you. But I get to shower with you, and I’m putting an offer of fucking you on the table. Say the word and I’ll do whatever the fuck you want. But you have to start it. Clear?”

She’d nodded, and let Ben herd her into the steam.

He’d kept his hands to himself. Ben had only thought about how he wanted to push her into the wall and crack the tiles—in a way that he was pretty sure she couldn’t hear—and even tried to stop his semi-hard dick from brushing against her.

Then he’d—fucking innocently—reached over Her to grab his shampoo, and she’d snatched his hand out of the air and brought it down to her center, grinding back into him and will whining pleas.

He’d have been fucking insane to say no. To not rub and flick and play with her perfect fucking pussy until she came, shaking on his hand with her head thrown back against his chest. Ben would’ve had to have lost his goddamn mind.

So now they were twenty minutes late to the meeting. Ben’s hand was folded in Hers, and she was pulling him down the hallway with long, clipped steps that made him want to pick Her up and fuck her.

I love you-

Shut your fucking mouth, Benjamin. You loving me is what made us late in the first place.

He snorted. My mouth is shut, brat.

Shut it more, cunt.

Right before She could push through the dining hall doors, Ben spun her around into his chest, and cupped her face with a light hand. “Let’s go home.”

“We are home.” She smiled at him, hands curling in his shirt, and Ben wasn’t capable of arguing with that foolproof logical when she was so stupid fucking beautiful. “Can you keep it in your pants for the meeting?”

“No.”

“Benjamin-“

He rolled his eyes, and pressed one gentle, soft kiss onto her lips. “Whatever,” he muttered against her, and she let out a breathless sound that was going to give him a fucking seizure from want. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It was like a fucking damn had broken inside him. Ben couldn’t fucking stop telling Her that he loved her. Even as he slung an arm over her shoulder and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, he wanted to scream it for the whole fucking building to hear. She needed to know, to never fucking forget, and he needed to keep her right fucking there all the time. At his side, leaning into him, squeezing his hand around Her as they entered the dining hall.

Since Mallory wasn’t in attendance, the most shit they got for the late arrival with a few glares and several sighs. They dropped onto the bench, and Ben heard Her heartbeat pick up as the team gaped at them. They looked fucking normal, as far as Ben knew. They’d washed off all the dried cum, put on clothing that wasn’t torn, their hair wasn’t really that fucking out of place. It couldn’t be how they were sitting, because they always sat like this. With Her pressed into his side, leaning her weight into his body, and his body half over hers.

But everyone’s heart was a little faster than normal. And none of them were just fucking speaking. Ben was about to open his mouth and demand some fucking answer, but Butcher broke the silence before he could.

“How very fuckin nice of you two cunts to finally join us,” he drawled, glaring between Her and Ben. “First skippin dinner, then almost playin hooky on the bloody meetin? You got a more rebellious streak than I thought, Love-“

“We were fucking busy,” She snapped, matching Butcher’s glare with one twice as violent. Christ, She was fucking perfect. “Our whole lives don’t revolve around you, Butcher. We’re allowed to miss dinner.”

“And the meeting?” MM muttered, and Her glare turned to him as he raised his hands up. “It’s not out of character, but the Singer shit was your idea. We weren’t able to start without you motherfuckers here.”

“And you ain’t got lives outside of this,” Butcher added with a scoff. “So unless you’re running a secret fuckin drug ring, in which case I’d like in, you shoulda bloody been here.”

 She sighed. “It’s none of your business, Butcher.“

“What, were you bloody twats fuckin all night-“

“Yes.” Ben grunted, glowering at Butcher. “Like she said, our fucking business.”

The whole room fell into silence, and Her voice rang in Ben’s ears.

What the fuck, Benjamin.

Sorry, his voice sounded insincere in his fucking brain, because he didn’t fucking mean it in the slightest. This shouldn’t be a fucking secret. People should know that Ben was fucking Her, that they fucking loved each other, and that not a single fucking force in the universe would take them away from each other.

She wasn’t that fucking angry, anyway, because all she did was slap his leg under the table, wrinkling her nose in a way that told Ben they both knew he’d probably do that again, and turn to watch the amusingly varied expressions of shock on their teams faces. 

Hughie—with a red fucking face and stuttered words—spoke first. “Um, last night? This last night?” 

“And this morning,” Ben winked at him, and She sighed, half burying her face in his chest. “I got good fucking stamina, Hughie, you need some tips I’d be happy to help-“ 

Her hand shot up to cover his mouth, and when Ben looked down she was giving him a flat look. Do not give Hughie sex tips, please.

You know how fucking good I am, would be damn cruel to deprive the world of what’s yours-

She flushed, but Her glare didn’t waver. Yeah, you’re a real Samaritan, Pretty Boy. And Hughie coughed.

“Um, was this, I guess a new thing? Like the first time-“

Ben scowled. “We haven’t been fucking lying to you pussies about not fucking-“

“It was,” She elbowed Ben in the gut, don’t be mean, and frowned at Hughie. “But I don’t know why that’s important-“

“Sorry, I’m just trying to, uh, put this shit together, I guess.” Hughie swallowed, the rest of the team watching them with a weird fucking intensity. “I, uh, what happened-“

“We fucked, Hughie.” Ben scowled. “It is not my goddamn job to explain fucking to you-“

“No,” Hughie’s heart was going to pound out of his chest like a damn cartoon. “I mean, I know what fucking is. It’s just kind of, uh, sudden? I’m wondering what changed-“ 

“She told me she loves me,” Ben didn’t bother to hide the smug pride in his voice, or the puff of his chest, and She’d seemingly completely given up on intervening in the conversation. Her face was fully squished against him, and Ben rubbed small circles on her shoulder as he smirked at Hughie. “And I said it back. And we fucked.”

“You just, um, went right into fucking, or-“

“I fingered her first,” Ben shrugged, and She sighed into him. “And then she sucked my cock, and-“

“Hughie-“ MM’s words were a low warning. “That’s all you should fucking need, I do not want a play by play of their sex-“

Her head peaked up, leaning around Ben to frown at MM. “What do you mean, what he should need?” Her gaze turned to Hughie, and the kid flinched. “Hughie. Why do you need to know that stuff.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, giving Her an apologetic grimace before running a hand over his face and looking around the table. “What day is it?” 

“June 9th,” Annie’s answer was quick, and she was watching Hughie carefully. “Little over three months.”

She looked up at Ben with a frown as Hughie started to frown to himself, narrowing his eyes at the air.

What are they talking about?

Fuck if I know, Ben shrugged, looking back at Hughie. I can make him tell us.

I’ll keep that in mind, but for now no torture-

Hughie’s eyes refocused and he sighed. “That’s twenty-five to MM for having three and half months on sex, twenty to Annie for exactly three on feelings, and twenty-five to Kimiko for sex immediately after feelings.”

As everyone groaned and began to pull out wallets, Annie frowned.

“Why do I only get twenty-“

Hughie scratched the back of his neck, giving Annie a sheepish look. “You said he’d confess feelings first, but she did, so you don’t, uh, get the bonus. And we put more on the order and distance-“

At Ben’s side, She was gaping around the table with an indigent glare. “Were you guys betting on us-“ 

“Sorry,” MM said Her name with a shrug. “But we all got tired of your fucking pining shit, needed to do something with it.”

“You did not need to-“

“You forgot to ask about the positions, Petite Hughie,” The French Prick interrupted Her with a frown, and Hughie sighed.

“We vetoed that one, remember? Nobody bet on it-“

“Nah, Lad, I got fifty riding on who was on top.” Butcher wiggled his eyebrows at Her and Ben. “Think you twats can say the right shit and make Frenchie pay me what he fuckin owes?”

“Butcher,” She snapped, squeezing Ben’s leg in a silent order to keep quiet. “I am not telling you who was on top-“

“Was Soldier Boy, wasn’t it?” Her face flushed, and Butcher gave The French Prick triumphant smirk. “Fuckin told you, Frenchie-“

“She did not say it, I will not pay-“

“You bloody owe me, Mate, don’t make me fucking take it-“

“Holy fuck,” she mumbled, giving Ben an eye roll, idiots, and ignoring his snort as she raised Her voice. “Frenchie, pay him.”

“Non, you must say it-“

“He was on top!” She snapped, and Ben didn’t miss the way her thighs squeezed until the table, where only he could see. “Pay Butcher, and if either of you ever bring this up again, I’ll fucking kill you. Now can we please just do our jobs?” 

“Well,” Butcher began, slowly counting the money Frenchie had passed him. “Ain’t that much to update you lot on. Singer’s still got his fuckin head up his ass, blockin us from makin any progress on the V, so we’ve found ourself in a bit of a fuckin stalemate until the president gets off his ass.”

She frowned. “Then why was this so urgent-“

“Because, Love,” Butcher’s sharp gaze rose up, scowling between Her and Ben. “I got some really fuckin interesting news from Mallory yesterday morning, about how Stan Edgar called her sayin Soldier Boy and the Anomaly still ain’t given an answer to his offer. And I’m real fuckin curious what he could be talkin about.”

Ben tensed, pulling Her closer into him, and glared at Butcher as She answered.

“Edgar kind of,” She sighed, fingers tapping on Ben’s knee. “He called us. And, um, asked us to visit him.”

“Why the hell would he want you two to visit him,” MM frowned. “He and Soldier Boy aren’t exactly on good fucking terms, and he’s only met you,” he gave Her a small nod. “Once.”

She glanced up at Ben. Can I tell them? About your IOU?

He didn’t want to tell them—mostly because they’d all fucking yell at him, and he couldn’t kiss them to make them shut up—but after failing think of a single good reason to say no, he shrugged. If you fucking need to, fine.

She nodded, and took a deep breath as she turned back to the team. “I need everyone to promise not to lose their shit, and that they’ll let me finish talking before they jump in.”

“I ain’t makin no fuckin promises-“

“Butcher,” Annie snapped, glaring over Hughie’s still-red face. “Just shut up.”

Butcher scowled, but didn’t say anything more, and Annie gave Her an encouraging nod to continue.

“Okay.” She sighed. “First of all, I’ve already yelled at Ben a lot for this, so you guys don’t have to. It was stupid, and reckless, and lacked any critical thinking skill or obvious foresight-“

You better be fucking going somewhere-

“But,” She kicked Ben’s shin, ignoring his glare. “We were desperate, and I understand why he did it. Even if it was fucking dumb.”

MM frowned. “Are you going to keep vamping for a thousand fucking years, or tell us what this motherfucker did-“

“Ben made a deal with Stan Edgar, and now we,” She gestured between Ben and herself. “Owe him.”

She tensed at Ben’s side as everyone stared at them—mostly Ben, and he probably needed to pretend he actually gave a fuck about the consequence of the IOU, but also She was curled into him and happy and safe so Ben decided he could be fucked—and they waited for the bitching to begin.

“And,” MM ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. “And you didn’t think that would be important fucking information to share with us?”

“No.” She mumbled. “I mean, I know I should’ve, but everyone was still at each other’s throat about Ben and I, and I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.”

“This ain’t about your bloody relationship drama, Love, this could fuck our asses raw with Soldier Boy’s dumb fuckin-“

“It wasn’t dumb,” She snapped, and Butcher was smart enough to shut up under her glare. It was likely more of a survival instinct, because Ben had been on the receiving end of that specific glare—where She looked like she already had a plan to kill you, there was nothing you could do to prevent it, and your body wouldn’t ever be found—and even he had been a little worried. Less worried than Butcher, because he wasn’t a fucking pussy and that glare was also fucking hot on Her, with curled lips and sharp eyes and Christ she was pretty, but worried all the same. Fuck, even Her voice was hot, firm and venomous. “And I didn’t hide it because of us,” She gestured between herself and Ben, and he needed to get it the fuck together and pay attention to thoughts that weren’t if I fucked Her on the table, how annoying would everyone be about it. “I hid it because I don’t think you can honestly tell me that, if I had told you, you wouldn’t have tried to kill us both.”

“I ain’t able to kill you, I’ve fuckin looked into it-“

“I know that,” She cut off Butcher’s muttering with a scowl. “But my point is that you didn’t trust us. This isn’t something I could share when you didn’t trust us. Got it? Can we talk about the actual issue on the table?”

Butcher rolled his eyes, but nodded.

“Thank you.” She turned back to the rest of the team, frowning into the air as she ran through her thoughts aloud. “Edgar says he has the favor picked out, but wants Ben and I to visit him. We don’t know why I need to be there yet, but we do know that he’ll be ‘in a better mood’ if I do. Whatever that means.”

“And if you do not visit him?” The French Prick watched Her carefully. “Will there be, ah, alternative actions?”

“I don’t know,” She pulled her lips between her teeth, chewing them with such force Ben was worried she’d break skin. “He’s not asking us to bring him anything. Just to keep him company, have lunch with him. He already knows what he wants Ben to do, and he said he’s willing to just cash in the IOU over the phone and that’ll be it. But he still wants us to visit.”

“It might be a, like a trap?” Hughie mumbled, looking around the table with an anxious face. “I mean, Edgar’s never been trustworthy, and he’s kind of the fucking worst-“ 

She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a trap. Edgar wouldn’t realign himself with Homelander, and he’s too smart to let Sage pull his strings. I,” She took a long breath. “I want to go. Edgar might be cryptic and an annoying fucking dickhead, but he doesn’t play games that are unwinnable. He’s got some sort of endgame, and I think we should see what it is.”

“No.” Ben didn’t wait for the rest of the team to chime in with their stupid fucking opinions. There wasn’t a single fucking chance he was taking Her out of the compound, upstate, in goddamn public—where Homelander could find Her—for a lunch with Stan Edgar. “I’ll deal with this my goddamn self, we’re not entertaining Edgar’s fucking shit.”

“Ben-“

“I’m with Soldier Boy on this.” MM interjected, and Her eyes widened. “Edgar’s a slippery fucking bastard. No telling what the hell he wants from you, and it’s real goddamn suspicious he’s making it an option. It feels like a fucking trap.” 

“It would be a stupid trap,” She crossed her arms, glaring around the table. “It’s way too obvious. And it’s not like we’re helpless if he does try to pull something-“

“But we can’t risk it right now.” Annie sighed, giving Her a close-lipped smile. “I mean, the IOU will be cashed in no matter what, right? Why should we play Edgar’s game when he’s already gotten what he wants?”

Butcher scoffed. “And that, Starlight, is why you never fuckin win on poker nights. Sometimes you gotta take the gamble, bloody live a little and let it pay off. I think the cunts should go, I’m all fuckin in on it.”

“Of course you would be, you asshole-“

“Kimiko and I are also on team go.” The French Prick gave Annie an apologetic look as he cut her off. “Kimiko says that she trusts the judgment of Madame,” the French Prick nodded at Her, and Ben realized he’d fully dropped saying either Anomaly or her name. He could fucking appreciate that, even if Frenchie was making to dogshit fucking choice of siding with Her dumb as fuck plan. “And I trust the judgment of Kimiko.” 

She nodded, and all eyes turned to Hughie.

“I, uh, why is everyone-“

“You’re the last fucking vote, Kid.” MM shrugged. “Yay or nay on Edgar, all on you.”

“Do not let the pressure get to your head, petite Hughie.” Frenchie added, and Hughie swallowed. “I am sure neither will kill you if you do not vote their way.”

She might not. She was kind like that. Ben wasn’t.

Hughie must have known that Ben’s glare wasn’t a fucking empty threat, because he mumbled, “It’s, um, probably not worth it. Nay, I guess.”

Ben gave Her a smug grin, I fucking win, and she completely ignored him.

“Edgar’s literally locked up, he’s not a threat right now-“

MM said Her name flatly. “You know just as well as the rest of us that Edgar’s always a fucking threat. You’re still being hunted by Vought, there’s no way it’s worth taking such a goddamn risk for his,” MM pointed a sharp finger at Ben, and didn’t get it snapped off only because they were on the same side of this shit. “Stupid choices. It’s too far a fucking drive, and we can’t know what the hell Edgar’s got waiting for you. You’re outvoted on this. Back down.”

“Technically I’m not, we’re tied-“ 

“A stalemate is a no.” MM grunted with a shrug. “And we’re not flipping. That’s it.”

She narrowed her eyes, and Ben could hear Her brain moving.

You lost, Sunshine. It happens to all of us, and now you know how I feel all the goddamn time-

I did not lose.

Yes, you did. An don’t say something fucking insane to try and get around it-

Shut the fuck up. “What if Edgar comes to us?” She didn’t even look at Ben’s glower, looking around the table. “Home field advantage, no way for him to set something up.”

“We ain’t lettin that cunt in the house,” Butcher grunted. “I’m still on your side, Love, but we’re on strict fuckin lockdown. Not a chance in bloody hell we’ll convince Mallory to give Edgar a day pass.”

“First of all, this isn’t a house,” She shrugged, finger drumming against Ben’s leg as she frowned. “But we could bring him to a house.”

Hughie blinked. “None of us have a house-“

“But the CIA does,” She grinned. “And it’s fucking impenetrable.”

“Oh, shit.” Hughie’s eyes widened. “The safe house.”

She nodded. “Where Edgar’s family is. He won’t risk Neuman, or Zoe. We can meet him there, no risk, and hear what he wants.”

“That’s,” Annie sighed. “Yeah, okay. I’ll switch my vote.”

She bumped Ben’s shoulder, a smug fucking smirk on her pretty face. Suck on that, Benjamin. Five to three, I win.

He scowled. Brat.

You love it.

He did. And, fuck him, Ben couldn’t figure out a single good argument to flip Annie back. It was a genius fucking idea. It was safe, they’d be giving Edgar extra by letting him see Neuman, and they’d get whatever fucking generosity the pussy had promised them. And when MM and Hughie agreed to Her idea—MM making it clear that it was only on the terms of the safe house he was siding with Her—Ben gave up. She was too fucking smart, and he was too fucking stupidly in love with Her and her happy, pleased smile to keep arguing. Especially not when, as Butcher grunted they’d need four day and everyone started to disperse, Ben had several fucking plans to drag Her home and win his own game. To tease and touch and fuck Her until she was a wet, fucked out mess beneath him, take advantage of how Her heart picked up every time he called her my love, and maybe he’d get Her to squirt again-

“Frenchie?”

Ben blinked at Her nervous voice, and realized it was just them, Frenchie, and Kimiko left in the dining hall. She was leaning over the table, tilting her head at Frenchie as she spoke slow, measured words.

“You, um, you know a little about how my powers work, right? The empathy specifically?”

“I, ah,” Frenchie glanced at Ben with nervous fucking pussy words. “I do, oui. But I am not sure-“

“He knows about the suppressant,” She said with a sigh. “I’m not taking it anymore, by the way, I can give the rest back-“ 

“Non, they are yours. A gift.” Frenchie frowned. “Why do you bring up your empathy if not for the pills?”

“I have,” She swallowed, glancing up at Ben. “We have a few questions about it.” 

Who the fuck is we, Sunshine. 

You and I. She shot him a quick glare. He might know what the whole mind reading shit is, Pretty Boy. Don’t be an ass.

Ben rolled his eyes, but turned his glare to Frenchie’s confused face.

“What questions would you like answered, Madame?”

“You said my empathy is my limbic system going beyond my own self.” She frowned. “Right?”

“Oui,” Frenchie nodded, looking Her up and down. “The V, ah, causes you to connect your brain with others. Ties their emotions in with your own.”

Ben didn’t understand what the fuck Frenchie was talking about, but She seemed satisfied with that weird answer, and continued. “But it’s temporary, not a long term bond.”

Frenchie blinked at Her. “It should be. Your brain is still your own, it would be fucking exhausting for you if it was not. Why do you-”

“I think I did something to Ben.” She mumbled, staring at the table, and he scoffed.

Shut the fuck up, Sunshine, it’s not like this is torture for me. Don’t get all fucking sad about it-

But I- 

“We can read each other’s damn minds,” Ben said aloud, because She wasn’t allowed to blame herself for this, so he wouldn’t entertain any protests about it. “And you’re going to tell us why.” 

“Please.” She added, and Ben rolled his eyes. “And I think it’s something about the empathy because I can feel him. He’s just kind of in me-“ 

“He does not look to be in you right now-“

Kimiko whacked Frenchie’s arm, and sighed something that made him frown and turn back to Her.

“Are you speaking in metaphor?”

“No, but I’m also not talking about his dick, Frenchie.” She sighed. “I can feel him when he’s not touching me. Or anywhere near me, really. It’s kind of like just a thing in my chest that is Ben. It’s hard to explain, but I know it’s him. And it vanished with the suppressant, so I think it’s related to the empathy.”

Later, Ben would have to ask Her what the fuck she meant by it was him. What he felt like, why She was so goddamn certain of it. But Frenchie was nodding slowly, looking between them, so Ben had to pay attention. 

“And you, ah,” Frenchie paused, glancing at Kimiko before turning back to Her. “Can you hear our thoughts?”

“No. And it’s not hearing his thoughts, it’s more selective than that-“

“Selective my balls,” Ben muttered, and She wrinkled her nose at him.

Fuck off, Pretty Boy. We’re still learning how to use it, it’s going to be touch and go. “It is selective, he’s just a dramatic fucking man child.” Ben scowled, but let Her continue. He kind of wanted some damn answers as well. “It’s like we’re talking to each other, but in our heads.” 

Kimiko signed something, and She shook her head. 

“No, not like the,” She sighed. “Heart eyes. That’s just reading expressions, and I can do it with my family as well. This is like some sort of mental bond, but I don’t know why we have it.” 

Frenchie titled his head at Her. “Did it begin after you fucked?” 

“Um,” She flushed, heart fluttering. “No. The Ben Thing in me was kind of in and out for a while, then got cemented at the Believe Expo, when we met in the bathroom.” 

“And you did not fuck in the bathroom?” 

“No-“ 

“I fingered you,” Ben supplied, and gave Her exasperated glare a wink. “And ate you out.” He glanced at Frenchie. “Does that shit count.”

Frenchie sighed. “It does. Can you, Soldier Boy, feel her?”

Ben frowned. “Fucking once and a while, yeah.”

“Really?” She blinked up at him. “When?”

“When you escaped,” he shrugged. “When you got drunk. When I fucked you-“

“And you didn’t tell me-“ 

“I only just fucked you, and how the fuck was I supposed to know it was you-“

“I don’t know, I figured it out myself-“

“After fucking months-“

Frenchie coughed, and they both turned to glare at him.

“I, ah, you may continue, but I have a theory for what has happened.”

“Fucking wait-“

She covered Ben’s mouth, and nodded to Frenchie. “What is it?”

“You,” Frenchie nodded at Her, saying Her name carefully. “Have, hypothetically, planted yourself in Soldier Boy.”

Ben dragged Her hand away from him with a firm, careful grip. “What the fuck are you talking about.”

“As her powers have grown, and you two developed a, ah, connection, it may have led to her brain, the V of it, reaching into your brain and not removing itself, even after contact had ended.”

“But that doesn’t explain the mind reading.“ She frowned, and Ben smirked.

You called it mind reading. 

Fuck you, Benjamin-

“It is just an idea,” Frenchie shrugged. “But if your empathy felt safe within the environment of Soldier Boy’s body, it might have been capable of tying into him. Making you a physical part of him, perhaps deep enough for thoughts to be traded. And the piece of him within you is the piece of your brain within him, sending you signals of his own mind and body.” 

“If it’s my brain putting my empathy in Ben,” She said carefully. “Is it something I have to worry about happening again?” 

Frenchie shook his head. “It is very unlikely. Just once is an astronomical fucking shock, and you would have to recreate the exact events for it to even possibly happen again.” 

Ben scowled. “The fuck you mean a shock-“

“I mean it is batshit that her literal fucking brain could grow within you. It required much physical contact, a, ah, profound emotional connection, and for your own body to not view her as a parasite and terminate her within you.”

She tilted Her head. “Is it because we have the same V? Like a biological thing?”

“It may have helped,” Frenchie sighed. “But I cannot truly tell without tests.”

Do you want to test it? She glanced up at Ben, scanning his face. I mean, I don’t really think it matters-

It fucking doesn’t. And he is not damn poking us with needles just give us the exact same fucking answer. Ben glared at Frenchie. “Her brain is in me? That's it?”

Frenchie swallowed. “Oui, I imagine so.”

Ben nodded. Got all the shit you want?

I guess. Not much else I can ask. She gave Frenchie a smile. “Thank you, that helps.”

“Would you want any of the tests-“

“Fuck no,” Ben snapped, and started to stand, pulling Her with him. “No science shit.”

She glared at him, and turned back to Frenchie. Ben didn’t actually pay attention what She was saying—probably just fucking goodbyes or some sentimental shit—because he was just staring at Her. He kept staring at Her, as they left the dining hall and returned to their apartment.

She was fucking perfect. He loved Her—he’d never stop saying it, nobody could make him stop fucking saying it—and She was his whole life. She loved him, and now Ben got to give Her everything. They’d kill Homelander, and move to Rome, and get married. He’d fuck Her forever, and care for Her the same way she did for him—staying at his side, defending him with words and plans and faith the same way he defended her with his hands and body and sheer fucking will—and that would be it. She’d be it. She was it. She was a fucking part of Ben, and he’d never fucking lose Her. She loved him, and she was never fucking wrong, and Ben would spend the rest of his life ensuring he was worthy of being central in Her orbit, that he was deserving of being part of Her.

He’d always make sure was worthy of keeping that part of Her in him safe. He’d tend to it and care for Her and love Her, he fucking swore on the world she loved so much, and this was it. They, together, were it.

End Note: They really did not last two weeks before they were fucking and shouting about how much they love each other. Two most unserious people.

Thank you for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[l3viat8an]

Giving submissive Lucifer a pussy job he’d be a bit whiny ‘cause you won’t actually let him fuck you 😇 

Nsfw!

An attempt was made- I swear, I tried!! I’ve gotta practice writing for sub!characters more skhsjsh

Lucifer hates this- he just wants to be inside you, he’s earned it. He did all his work for the day and yet you want to tease him. and he lets you, because he wants to be your good boy~

His hands twitching at his sides, wanting to grab your hips and push you down -but he doesn’t- he lets you straddle his lap and do as you please, teasing him rubbing your cunt across his cock..

If you really want to rile Lucifer up even more whisper sweet praise in his ear, tell him how how good his cock feels sliding so perfectly against your wet pussy……he’s on edge already, soft whimpered pleas mixed with your name falling from his lip. damnit he wants to be inside you. “M-master, please, please n-need to feel you…” “you already are.” you reply with a smirk, his whimpers turning into a choked moan when your clit rubs against the throbbing tip of his cock.

He tosses his head back and it hits the headboard with a dull thud ‘n shot of pain but Lucifer doesn’t care. Not when you roll your hips against his again, rubbing over his cock just right, the feeling of his cock twitching and covered in your slick just feels too good.

“nhg, fuck- c-close!” he covers his face with one arm, trying so hard to hide from you and muffle the sweet moans slipping from his lips as you grind your hips faster, your slick now covering his legs too.

Lucifer’s moans get louder and he begs you for more!!- Friction, praise, it doesn’t matter he just needs wants more! and you give it to him until you feel his cock twitching and his warm, sticky, cum covering your cunt-

His breaths are uneven, whimpering at the sensitivity while you still glide against him. “N-no not again please…” it’s barely a whisper, tears brimming in his eyes, as you slow down and sit on his cock. “Aww but you did so good! My good boy~ How about a little break and then we can have more fun?” you coo in his ear, pressing soft kisses down his neck to his chest….Lucifer finds himself nodding along mindlessly.

He’ll do whatever you want as long as you’ll call him your good boy again <3

[vixen7243]

Wrong Chat : 1

Johnny X AFAB!Reader| TF141 X AFAB!Reader

MDNI‼️

Part 1 | Part 2

Johnny getting home finally after being away from you for months and feeling feral after all the teasing photos you had sent of new lingerie which then was followed up with a damn video of you grinding on HIS pillow moaning his name. Giggling at the end when you showed him the wet spot, “Wish it was your face love.” Turning the camera up to you, you smiled sweetly, “Come home safe so you can cum in me.” Video ended to soon in his opinion, which he intends to teach you as soon as he has you in the bed, face in the pillow your sweet cunt was grinding on a fortnight ago.

“Next time ye send a sexy little video like that ye better get all of ye’s angles Bonnie.” Johnny moved your phone closer as he thrust his cock deeper you moan ripping through your throat whimpering as you gripped the pillow. “Come now Bonnie, show the camera a little love.”

Johnny moved the camera forward and had it leaning against the headboard your face main view and your ass just above your head, bouncing as Johnny continued to jackhammer into you gummy spasming walls. You cried out as you came for the 3rd time around his cock, “Johnny please cum please! I need it, oh god, there!”

Johnny groaned as he ground his hips into you, squeezing your ass cheeks before patting your hip lightly. You reached out with a shaky hand grabbing your phone stopping the video, for the 3rd time that night you were sending the video to Johnny as he had made you do to the first two videos. Due to your watery eyes and shaky hands you might have accidentally hit the group chat your boyfriend made up of you and his team for game nights and pub nights. As soon as you hit send and Johnny’s phone dinged he turned you over smiling, “Ready for round 4 Bonnie.” As Johnny started kissing a trail to you breasts his phone dinged a few more times making him freeze and look up at you noticing that your phone was recording again and propped up on your pillow aimed at your face, cock drunk and teary.

Pushing pack up he snatched his phone from the bed side table and his eyes damn near burst out his sockets, “Jesus Bonnie you sent the video to the lads.”

“Huh?”

You were so out of it that you weren’t registering his words at all, instead you wrapped your legs around his waist and whimpered.

Gaz 🚁☠️: Well ello to you too gorgeous, is this your guys way of an invite?

If so I’ll be there in 15

Ghost💀🥸: You were moaning the wrong name Love, I’ll be there in 10 to teach you how to say Simon.

Gaz🚁☠️: 10?! Wtf you know I’m already breaking speed limits to just get there in 15 not fair!🤬

Captain🐻💰: Darling, is he not enough? Tell the boy to move aside I’ll be there soon.

Johnny couldn’t remember if he had locked the front door when he had thrown you over his shoulder abruptly before rushing up the stairs to your shared room. That didn’t matter too much considering he heard the front door hit the wall when it was opened feet marching up the stairs.“Damnit Bonnie.”

When the bedroom door shoved open is when you finally got your mind clear of the fogginess and shrinked into Johnny a blush covering your cheeks. “Oops”

Part 2

[mythicmanuscripts]

oh my goodness! okay, first and foremost -- thank you for all the stuff you write, it is SO hard to get good sub!HOTD boys content, you are literally an oasis in the desert. i've binge read and then reread all you stuff and it is FANTASTIC!!

what about sweet, sensitive sub!jace already in subspace or even in subdrop? maybe you find him that way when you walk in, and you give him all the cuddles and comfort and touch him how he needs with all the love?

I love this idea!! I’m so so glad to hear that you like my stuff, I started this blog specifically because I was struggling to find sub!hotd characters content so I am very happy to hear you’re liking my stuff.

This idea is brilliant and I definitely would love to discuss Jace in subspace and subdrop more so if anyone has any ideas let me know!! For now I’m gonna write you walking in on Jace in subspace and teetering on the edge of subdrop. So angsty NSFW sub!jace below the cut! But I don’t worry, there’s a happy ending!!

So firstly, as we’ve said before, Jace wouldn’t like jerking off at all. Sure it felt good and he went through being a horny teenager, but he didn’t like it because of how sensitive and overwhelmed he got afterwards. Jerking off always resulted in him crying himself to sleep and trying desperately to make sure nothing touches cock.

Of course this all changes when he meets you and he experiences how good things can feel and how safe he can be when there’s someone there to help him. He can hide in your chest every time he cums and you’ll hold his hand afterwards and you’ll never ever be disappointed in him for not being able to continue.

All of this is to say that after he married you he masturbated even less than before. Now that he knows how it is with you, he never wants to experience it alone again.

So even if you were away for weeks, I don’t think Jace would be able to bring himself to do more than grind against your pillow until you return.

However, I think this scenario could happen if you get called away? Like maybe you and Jace are spending the morning in bed, having a very rare relaxed moment together. You’ve been kissing for a while, hands wondering all over each other’s body. Jace is so plaint in your arms, letting you do whatever you want and trying his best to actually kiss you back instead of just whining into your mouth.

You start to palm him through his briefs then, listening to the way he whimpers your name. You’re gentle with it, because you don’t want to overwhelm him. You stick to just softly palming his bulge and praising him for being so so good for you.

He’s starting to get really worked up when a messenger knocks on the door. You know it must be serious because Jace told everyone not to either you two that morning unless absolutely necessary. You go talk to the person at the door, and they tell you something has happened that needs you or Jace, or preferably both.

Jace is in absolutely no state to be in public whatsoever, so sending him or coming with him are both out of the question. But you can’t avoid this, someone needs to handle this.

So as much as it pains you to do, you go back to Jace and explain what happened, telling him that you’re going to go sort it out and that he doesn’t need to move or do anything at all. Jace, bless him, is as understanding as he can be. He knows this is a war and any of you could be called upon at any time, but damnit he was so enjoying the slow morning make out session.

You give him a kiss on the forehead and tell him that you’ll be be back as soon as you can. You also tell him that he can cum on his own or just jerk off on his own because you don’t want Jace to become too desperate to stop himself and then he feels like he’s done something very bad even when he really hasn’t.

So with all that done, you race off to handle the chaos, and when you rerun the sight that greets you is heartbreaking.

You realise pretty quickly that Jace jacked off and came, not only because of how you found him but also because he didn’t have his underclothes on anymore.

He’s curled up on the bed, hugging your pillow with tears down his cheeks. Every now and then his hips will twitch and his poor cock will be subjected to even more stimulation, causing him to whine and shake even more.

When you call his name, his head shoots up and instantly he’s sitting up and holding his arms out to show he wants you to join him. You can see by the look in his eyes that he must have gone into subspace at some point.

You were sure he wasn’t in subspace when you left, but you realise he must have been on the brink of subspace when you had to leave and that jerking off is probably what made him go into subspace.

Jace is always needy in subspace, and just feels everything so much. He’s so sweet and giggly and playing when he feels safe in your arms, but he’s prone to spiralling if you aren’t there.

You’re quick to sit on the bed and motion Jace to sit with you. He all but dives into you lap, his legs dangling over your lap with his torso leaning sideways against you.

You just stroke him and kiss his head not promise him that you’re right here. When he calms downs, he looks up at you and whispers that he touched himself while you were gone. By this point there’s no point in trying to remind him that you gave him permission to do it, right now he won’t listen to reason and just needs comfort.

He’s so close to subdrop and he’s so overwhelmed and he feels so so bad that he couldn’t even wait for you today to finish your duties and instead had to touch himself when you left because he was too worked up not to.

You manage to just about keep him in subspace and not in subdrop by ensuring he knows you’re not angry with him and he’s still so so so good for you.

In the end he ends up sliding down the bed to eat you out, and just floats there for a while.

[harmonictechnicality]

model!steve and voice actor!Eddie (part 2)

part 1 here | ao3 link here | the temp is up on this one so like... dni if under 18 pls

Steve spends a lot of his spare time at the gym. Comes with the territory of modeling or whatever. Gotta keep himself strong, without developing bulging muscles. Gotta keep himself toned, without becoming too lean. Somewhat of a balancing act to this media fuckery circus.

Times are changing, yeah maybe. But not for puffy-lipped preps with killer bone structure. Steve still falls under the category of stereotypical Pretty Boy, and he’s chill with that. Fucking owns it.

Most days…

He’s currently cooling down on the treadmill - brisk walk, almost a jog. It’s a good pace for multitasking some adult shit that he needs to get done. Staying hydrated, keeping his photoshoot calendar up-to-date, answering a few emails. Yada yada.

Steve takes a swig of his seaweed (more like arsenic) smoothie. Opens the top email that reads:

The Fallen King - Final Commercial Cut

Right. Steve almost forgot about this particular shoot. Well, tried to repress the thoughts of that mega-douche director who kept referring to Steve’s ass as ‘prime real estate.’ Fucking creep.

He scrolls down to the attached file and slides his headphones back over his ears.

The ad opens with a wide shot of Steve draped over the throne, fog swelling around the bottom of the screen. The music is an eerie cello solo, set to a heavy bassline. 

Just another oversexualized cologne campaign, he thinks. Probably will barely feature the product because they paid big money for Steve’s body. Gotta get their fill of it (ha, they fucking wish Steve would fill them up).

But then the narration rolls into his ears and the room does a somersault. Practically inverts it’s axis at the sound dripping in Steve’s ears:

‘The mighty will fall from grace…’

“Oh shit.” Steve almost wipes out on the treadmill, has to catch his fall on the side bars. His knees are tingling, calves molten and shaky. Already half hard, which is definitely going to be a problem in these flimsy, mesh gym shorts.

‘Forbidden love and public slander…’

But that voice. That tone. That sinful register set in the minor key of Holy Fuck.

‘Will bring them to their knees.’

Alright, that fucking does it. Steve pauses the video before he’s fully tenting-out in a goddamn fitness center. Packs up his shit, chucks the sludge smoothie in the trash, and finds an empty stall. Emphatically locks it.

“Agh, damnit!” Steve's thumb slips over the screen and exits out of the video. It scrolls back to the top of the email - a new message has been added to the chain.

Seriously, what obnoxious fucker does ‘Reply All’ these days?

The new message reads:

Great work, team. (Sorry for being such a vocal slut.)

(… Not that sorry though.) - Eddie Munson

That’s right - the voice artist. Almost didn’t recognize the voice, but the repressed memory of that day comes flying to the surface when Steve sees the name. 

He recalls the guy being objectively cute too. Not in the California ‘sun-kissed skin’ kind of way. More in the Seattle ‘rain forces me to be a pale homebody’ kind of way. His eyes were something else though. They reminded Steve of the sepia tone filters he used in his early modeling portfolio. No way in hell Steve could ever forget knockout eyes like that.

The locker room is empty. Steve reopens the video, raises the volume high enough to mute out the thin hum from the air conditioning unit. Only wants to hear Eddie’s voice. That’s it. 

He’s already touching himself when the first phrase falls out of the headphones. Can’t even help it now that he’s alone. It’s all too good. Works himself up all stuffy and sensitive by the time the new part comes up:

‘Drenched in their guilt. Soaked in their shame.’

Fucking christ.

‘Choking on worthless confessions…’

Nope. Nope. Absolutely not. Choking? Worthless? What is this, a sado hotline? Steve feels the heat spreading on his neck, flushed over in a non-exercise way. There’s a thump in his dick, has to squeeze his fingers around it. Like his body needs a reminder to calm the fuck down.

‘Until all that is left of them is desolate darkness.’

Pretty sure the raspy exhale after every phrase is going to do Steve in, saturate his last ounce of dignity with want. Eddie’s breathing is taking Steve’s breath away, and that’s an outright mindfuck. Earfuck. 

Something is getting fucked, and somehow, Steve still needs more.

While the song sustains, Steve strokes himself to the percussive rhythm. 

‘The Fallen King. The scent of secrets.’

The hiss on the last syllable fades into the music till everything fizzles out, going dead silent.

Well, everything goes silent except for Steve, who is utterly rattled. Can hear his dense breath and it’s way too noisy for a public space. The pulse in his neck is irregular, hitched the fuck up. His smartwatch is buzzing, alerting him that his heart rate is elevated, which duh. His whole body feels like it underwent some sexual awakening in the middle of a fitness center. 

And, sure. That’s a common place for people to realize how gay and desperate they are, but not like this. Not with zero visuals of sweaty bodies. 

Before he starts the video over to… finish the job, a phone call lights up his screen. Because of course it does.

He reads the name and swipes it open. “What’s up, Buckley?”

“I need coffee.” Robin whines, already pouting into the phone speaker no doubt. 

“You always need coffee.”

“Yeah but like… it tastes better when you buy me coffee.”

“Oh, so you want to mooch off of your own client?” Steve teases because he can. They can annoy the shit out of each other and write it off as endearment. “Pretty unprofessional of you, Ms. Manager.”

Robin groans. Makes it a long one too - probably to show off both her annoyance and lung capacity. “Fuck all the way off, you were my friend first. Always friends first.”

“Always friends first.” Steve agrees. She’s right, usually is about most things. Robin has been his manager since his last agency went bankrupt from pouring their funds into promoting Fyre Fest. And everyone knows that turned out to be an entire fuckshow.

Honestly, it’s easier this way - Robin being his manager. They get to hang out more, he has more input on gigs that he’s interested in…

Interested in. Huh. The metaphorical lightbulb flicks on in Steve’s voice-drunk brain. Having his best friend as his manager is also convenient when Steve needs the phone number of a certain co-worker.

“Alright, fine.” Steve has a sly grin on as he talks. “I’ll bring over some coffee.”

“Thank god.”

“If!”

“Ugh.”

He huffs out a laugh. “If you can send me the cast and crew contact sheet from the Fallen King commercial.”

“Ew, why?” Robin asks, sounds totally repulsed. Valid, that shoot was Objectification Station.

But truly, Steve’s not in the mood to make up an excuse. He’s sore and sweaty and half-hard. So he just gets to the damn point. “Look, do you want coffee or not?”

“Okay okay.” That’s one way to speed up the process. Caffeine threats - works every time. “Dropping the file to you now.” 

“You’re the best.” Steve sings.

“I know, I know.” And the line clicks dead.

Okay. This is not a booty call, it’s not.

Steve is just texting a semi-stranger to tell him that his voice is potentially the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Okay, he’ll definitely phrase it better than that, maybe throw a few emojis in there to normalize the tone. Soften it up to sound very un-stalkery.

Yeah. Not a booty call. And if Eddie happens to send an audio message, and Steve happens to jerk off to it… still not a booty call, right?

Pathetic, maybe. But not basic, thank fuck.

He types, then re-types the message out way too many times before settling on this:

Steve: Great work on the commercial voiceover! Got ur number from the call sheet. hope that’s cool.

Steve hits send before realizing he didn’t have the goddamn common sense to introduce himself. He’s not even a rookie at hookups, why is he suddenly so frazzled by this guy?

“This is Steve by the way…” he mumbles into an audio message. Hits send, then quickly makes another:

“The… model guy.”

The model guy? What in the flustered hell is going on with him?

A chime notification goes off maybe two minutes after Steve sends the last message. Which is like… hot. Shameless fast texters are a millennial turn-on, for sure.

It’s a voice text, so Steve takes thirty seconds to calm down whatever involuntary throb just happened in his sweatpants. He sucks in some air and presses play:

“Pretty sure all the kids these days just send a ‘u up’ message to people they wanna dick down at midnight.”

Damn. Eddie’s voice sounds totally different, but just as sexy. Like amateur porn sexy. Is amateur audio porn a thing? It should be.

Steve quickly saves the audio file and types back.

Steve:  Ok pls don’t mention ‘kids’ while I’m trying to flirt with u

Eddie: Waitwaitwait So we're definitely flirting right now? I actually interpreted that correctly?

Steve: Like u said It’s midnight So… *shrug emoji*

And a phone call comes through. Eddie’s contact name flashing in a harsh light, too blinding and too unexpected. Steve’s heart is hammering at his rib cage, suddenly so fucking nervous. He waits until the last ring to answer, buys himself some time cause god knows, he needs it.

Steve takes a breath and swallows. “He-”

“Okay, so you do realize this is the sewer rat voice actor guy from the commercial shoot, right?” Eddie interrupts, sounds out of breath. “And not like… a fellow model or Timothee Chalamet’s cousin or something?”

That earns a hearty laugh and eye-roll from Steve. “He is so not my type.”

“Thought he was everyone’s type.”

“Nah.” Steve rolls onto his belly, very giddy and disarmed by the ease of the exchange. His nerves are set aside, replaced with his usual confidence. “More into sewer rat voice actor guys.”

“That… is some very specific criteria.” Eddie coughs or maybe it's just a dry laugh. He sounds pleased as hell, so laugh seems more likely. “Holy shit, I’m flirting with a model!”

“You’re cute." Steve should not be so charmed right now, but the impulsive honesty is really doing it for him. "Dorky, but cute.” 

Eddie mumbles something incoherent, then clears his throat. Speaks quieter this time. “So why’d you text?”

“So why’d you call?”

“Just, uh… needed confirmation that this is real life.”

Steve lets out a ‘hmm,’ thinks of a proper response to that. “If I was there, I could pinch you. Ya know... so you’d know it’s real.” Okay. Maybe not proper, but whatever. It’s late. His brain is half scrambled from hormones and exhaustion, cut him some slack.

“Would do a lot more than pinch you if you were actually here.” And sure, Eddie might have mumbled that, but Steve clearly heard it. He heard exactly what Eddie just suggested.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Fuck, we’re doing this?” Eddie whispers.

Steve turns onto his back again, lets his hand wander down. “If you’re into that. Like hearing your voice, Eddie.”

“Like hearing you say my name like that.” And Eddie sounds like he means it. His tone is smoothing over, the same way it did in the narration. “You sound so worked up already.”

Steve moans, chest falling hard enough that the phone slips. Has to reposition it to get all that good vocal seduction back in his ear.

“God, wish I could see what you look like right now.” Eddie exhales, getting that nice rasp that Steve likes so much. It’s sultry and rich. Breathless at just the right moments. “Bet you’re lying down, aren’t you? Phone wedged between your neck and ear cause your hands are too busy to hold it properly. Am I right?”

“Yeah.” Steve pushes past the waistband of his sweatpants, then his boxers.

Eddie hums. Growls. “The things I’d do to you like that. Lying down, looking so eager to please. Saw how good you are at taking direction that day of the shoot. Does that apply in the bedroom too, baby?”

“It… fuck.” Steve strokes himself slowly. Can barely get the words out cause it feels like he's chewing on Eddie's voice. Swallowing every syllable. “Yeah, it does.”

“See - that’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“Problem?”

“That I don’t know what you’re into. How you like it.”

“Pretty open to… trying things.” Steve reassures, eyes closing to soak in every sensation. “Just keep talking.”

And thank all that is holy, Eddie does just that. He keeps talking. “Can’t stop thinking about that pretty neck of yours. How I’d kiss it, suck on it till your skin goes tender and soft under my lips. Till your head rolls back like it did in that video.”

Eddie's words are syrup. Heavy and tempting. “I’d let you rest it on my shoulder while I get my hands all over you. See what sweet spots drive you wild, get you to squirm for me.”

Steve's grip tightens, pumping at a pace that’s close to getting fucked. A pace that makes it easier to pretend that it’s Eddie’s hand wrapped around him, making his vision blurred and spotty - even with his eyes screwed shut.

“Eddie, you’re… oh my god.” Steve whines, knows it must be pretty fucking loud with the speaker smushed against his cheek. “You’re so good at this.”

Eddie shushes him, sounds like he’s snickering a bit. “I’d tease you like that until your thighs start to tremble. Until you beg me to go further. End the torture.”

“Fucking christ…please.” Guess Steve really is that good at taking direction. Or maybe he’s extra easy for guys that turn his brain into liquor. Too busy begging to know which one it might be. “Keep going.”

Eddie’s laugh is dark and rough. “Sounds nice hearing you beg like that. Like sin.”

Feels like sin too. 

Steve’s fingers are slicked nicely with precome. The friction of his palm is making everything warmer, better. And stirring all of those feelings up with Eddie’s voice? Fucking hell, Steve is close. He’s so damn- “Okay, okay. If we don’t stop, I’m gonna-”

“I know.” Eddie purrs, sweetly mean. “Thought that was the point.”

“Cannot believe I'm about to say this, but maybe…” Steve has to dig his hand out from his boxers to complete the sentence. Knocks his head against the wall because his behavior is totally batshit right now. “Maybe I want to see you again first? Is that weird?”

His skin sort of tingles from going this long without finishing. Never solved the blue-balling issue back at the gym either, so Steve’s on the verge of climax insanity right now. Didn’t think he’d discover an edging kink at the ripe age of twenty-five, but eureka. Here it is.

“Not weird.” Eddie’s voice returns back to a calmer one. The one that doesn’t make Steve want to bend over and get fucked so hard that his organs shift around. “I mean, I’m weird, sure. But wanting to complete this in person is not weird. Very un-weird, in fact.”

“You talk a lot.”

“Yeah well… voice actor.” Eddie says, sort of deadpan. “You couldn’t see that, but I just did ‘razzle dazzle’ hands.”

Shit, Steve really likes this guy. He just used the phrase ‘razzle dazzle hands,’ and Steve is still horny for him. Wow.

“Is tomorrow too soon?” Steve manages to say before overthinking it.

“Tomorrow-tomorrow, or like today-tomorrow?” Eddie asks. “Cause it’s past midnight.”

Right. Booty call time moves at an entirely different pace than normal time does. “Today-tomorrow. If you’re free.”

“Free as a dead composer’s anthology of music.” Eddie answers happily.

Steve opens his mouth to respond, then shuts it because what? What does that even mean? Is that a yes or a no? Goddamnit, his head hurts. Too many questions, not enough orgasms.

“Most classical music is royalty-free.” Eddie clears his throat, sounds like he’s tapping on something. “… So yeah. I’m free.”

“Right.” Steve chuckles, hard to believe he’s unapologetically gushing. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Eddie.”

“Great. See you today, Steve.” Eddie is still snorting at his own joke while the call ends.

They haven’t sorted out any of the details yet, but it doesn’t matter. It’s happening. It’s real.

So real, that he wants an actual date with Eddie before steamy phone sex. He wants to make Eddie laugh before making him come. That's like... unheard of for Steve. Uncharted.

Damn.

Today-tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

[glitch-karma]

They flirt with you while drunk ;)

I only did characters I think would actually drink

Also some of them a slightly spicy so here ya go simps (Talking to myself.)

Dazai

This is a semi-regular thing

"Y/n, belladonna, let's go back to my place~"

"Dazai.. PLEASE shut up."

At first, you thought it was sweet an cute; but now it's just something you have to deal with

Most of the time it ends with him falling asleep

But there's been a couple of times Kunikida has had to help you with him

Kunikida

Yosano convinced him to drink and unsurprisingly; He is a lightweight

He immediately got really goofy, startling you. Was this really Kunikida?

You tried helping him the best you could as he stumbled like a toddler and kept losing his own glasses

"Kida maybe you should sit down.."

He suddenly grabbed your hand and stared into your eyes

You were confused till you heard him mumble in a slur of words:

"You're stunning.. Have yous.. Always been this beautiful?"

All. Eyes. On. You.

You stared in shock as Kunikida still held your hand

After that, he passed out

You took him back to his apartment afterward

When he woke up the next morning and remembered what he said: he wanted to die.

Needless to say he apologized a million and one times

Yosano

Yosano is usually very good at holding her liquor, but this time she went a tad bit overboard

She was wobbling a lot and kept grabbing onto your waist, which you thought was cute

You held her while she kept stuttering and hiccuping like a goof

It was the end of the night and you were helping her home

You reached her apartment and were about to leave when she grabbed you by the collar, and basically straddled you in bed

"Don't be going so soon darling.. hicc.. You're so gorgeous I could cut you up.."

WHOAAAAAA

You were about a million shades of red as she ran her hands up and down your thighs

She started pulling your hair, forcing you to look into her eyes

At this point, you were ready to let anything happen

Just as your lips were about to touch, she fell asleep.

You sat there in shock

"Damnit... I was just getting excited."

The next morning you both had a nice breakfast and forgot everything that happened

Chuuya

Chuuya regularly drinks and with you, a bit of flirting is inevitable from him

You usually entertain it cause he's cute trying to flirt

But sometimes he'll get a little spicy kick to his flirting

"Y/n.." "Yes, dear-"

Bam

He slammed you against the wall

You were in shock as he leaned his head into your hair

"You're mine.. Forever.."

You calmed down and you both hugged before you forced him to go to bed

Nikolai

Nikolai, when not doing things for doa, does drink occasionally

On those occasions he tends to mess with you and tease you more than usual

"My my, it's my beautiful darlinggg~"

Nikolai is already very clingy with you, but drunk? Oh boy

He is literally laying on top of you and constantly talking to you

He places kisses all over your face and trys to make you flustered

Usually by the end of the night you both fall asleep on top on one another

Ango

Although Ango's job at the special ops is more strict than the P.M, I'd like to imagine Ango still drinks occasionally: whether it be after a hard day or in Oda's memory

I feel like he'd be a lot more open, and a tad bit more emotional

Definitely would need a lot of hugs from you

I feel like he wouldn't really flirt, more like appreciate you like a god/goddess

There will definitely be cuddles and kisses

[defenestrationn]

We all love Cater, amirite?

okay, quick a/n. this does get sad but its has a good ending!

oh and not proof read

Cater couldn't help the small pep in his step as he made his way to the ramshackle dorm his partner resided in. his hands fiddling with two tickets for a full spa day in his pockets. He had already gone through the effort to bribe Grim to hang with ace and deuce. With a deep breath, Cater left the tickets alone and grabbed his phone. Within seconds, he was on magicam. 

The ginger perked up when he saw he did, in fact, have a notification! A notification from Yuu. “Alrighty, when you get here, just walk in. I'm making spicy ramen!” The text made his cheeks heat up as he couldn't help the silly smile that came to his face. After all, this right here was why he loved them so dearly. They cared enough to learn his likes and dislikes, his music taste, his hobbies. They chose and would continue to choose him. Yuu, the ever patient soul they were, took the time to break down his high walls. To worm their way into his head and heart. Cater would never have it any other way.

“Cay–Cay is in the building!!” Cater called out as he closed the dorm's wooden door. “Perfect timing, Babes! I'm in the kitchen!” the boy smiled as he kicked off his shoes and quickly made his way into the kitchen. The smell of spice and rich pork broth filled his nose as he did so. His green eyes scanned for his partner before he saw them setting two mismatched bowls on the table. “Lunch is ready! You told me to make sure I ate before this date. So I made us both food!” they chriped with a beaming smile

Once the pair were done eating, they got ready to leave the campus. Cater bit his lip in an attempt to not ruin the surprise he planned. After all, this was the least he could do for Yuu. not only had they fought 7 overblots in the past year. But they were his partner for the past 6 months. They deserved to be spoiled and taken care of. During their walk. The couple chatted about future date ideas that would both be fun and pretty. 

Upon arrival, Yuu initially kept walking before realizing they had reached their destination. “A spa? .. wait..” Yuu looked over to see the cheeky boy holding up the tickets. “Why wait?” Cater teased as he pressed a kiss to their temple. Then with a dramatic swing of the door, he waves You through with a cheeky grin on his face.

“I told you, I was going to pamper you. It's not my fault you didn't listen.” he teased as he watched you walk in before him. He followed you in before he went to check in with the receptionist. Once he was done, the women behind he desk led you both to the private room. The worker in the room smiled and waved as she introduced herself and explained what would be happening. 

After a few hours of pampering and laughter, the session was finished and the couple went back on their journey back to the dorms. “Am I still good to sleep at ramshackle tonight?” Yuu shot him a blank stare. “That's a joke right? Obviously! What about Riddle? Do you have a plan?”

The devious smirk on his face screamed that he did, in fact, have a plan cooked up.

“Of course I do! I have an ace up my sleeve. Oh, and Ace himself I guess. But he's not part of my plan. Ill just use a Split Card to make it seem like I'm going to my room and in reality, I'll be sneaking back for my little Pookie!”

Once the sun had set and the night air gained a chill, a familiar head of orange hair began up the path past the graveyard. Yuu grinned as they ran to the door to open it. “Quick! Come in!” they whisper yelled, making the ginger bolt inside. Worried his housewarden has noticed his disappearance.

“Damnit! Was he behind me!?” his voice panicked as he peeked out of a window. “Nope. I just missed you. Oh, and this is the day Horton comes over to admire the gargoyles.” They snickered with a smirk.  Cater turned to give the prefect a blank state, that they only returned with mischievous giggling. “Love ya, Babes!”

Cater could have never expected to wake up to the head mage knocking bright and early the next morning. His eyes were wide as he hid a few feet away. “Prefect! Good morning! I came to tell you about an emergency meeting that will be held in one hour! I have already warned the housewardens as well. And be sure to tell your friends, dear Prefect. You too, diamond.” the magicalles student didnt have time to respond before the head mage took of like a bolt into the air

The couple shared a petrified look as cater came out of hiding. “How did he know I was here?? And an emergency meeting?? And he wants us to tell.. Our friends??” the headmaster never made sense to you but even this was a new low. “Cater.. I have a really bad feeling about this.” The boy took a deep breath before he spoke again. “I do too.”

When it was time for the meeting, the prefect stepped into the room, followed closely by the heartslaybul housewarden and his card soldiers. A soft smile came to their lips as they noticed no collar around their boyfriends neck. It was only once everyone had arrived and filled the mirror room that Crowley would explain why they were gathered. “Now, everyone! I have an important announcement! We have officially found a way for Yuu to go home!” 

The prefect looked confused as they looked at the head mage. “Crowley. I told you I wasn't interested in going home. What is this about?” the large crow man only smiled as he opened his arms in a grand gesture. “Why yes you did, my dear Prefect! However, because I am oh so generous! I'm sending you back to your own world! Isn't that amazing!” he cooed as he began to push the smaller human to the dark mirror. His voice recites a spell to activate the portal.

"Cater! CATER!" The boy in question began to sprint to the swirling and glowing mirror. His hand reaching out to grab his partner as they got shoved through the mirror. "CA--" The silence was deafening as Yuus scream for their boyfriend was cut off. His fingers slip past theirs, only to come crashing into the hard surface of the mirror. 

The sound of a gut wrenching scream broke the silence as he fell to the floor.  The room was in immediate uproar as Yuu's friends began to scream insults at the headmaster who had shoved the dear prefect. The prefect who never wanted to leave. The prefect who had carved a home in their hearts and dorms. The prefect that Cater had fallen in love with. Gone.

All of their plans. Their late night conversations. The silly spicy ramen dates. Everything except the memories. Ripped away from him. All his new found hope and motivation. The newfound Happiness. Shattered. Destroyed. The same way his heart was.

Trey came to kneel beside his friend as he rubbed his back. Anger filled the clover but the words refused to leave his lips.  His heart broke further as he watched Grim pick up the prefect's bow off of the ground. The dire beast could only stare at the scrap of fabric as the earth shattering realization hit him. Tears quickly soaked his fur as he looked to cater. His eyes begged for this to not be real. 

Cater could show him no such mercy. They were gone against their will. Their voice screaming his name for help echoed in his head. The once perfect diamond on his cheek had begun to run from his tears. Cater's hands moved slightly,  opening them for Grim. The direbeast ran into the boy's hands as he began to wail. The chaos around them deafen by their joint sobs

The two boys screamed out their anguish and sobs as they held one another. The two people the prefect loved the most. Their sobs were drowned out by the angry screams and the booms of magic being cast.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

But that's not what actually happened. Was it?

Cater woke up with a sobbing scream. Sweat soaked his hair as he desperately tried to push it from his face. The sound of his own pulse was deafening in his panic. Bleary and unadjusted eyes frantically searched the room. However the sound of springs squeaking makes his head snap to the side. 

“Babes.. Are you okay??” the gravely, sleepy voice of his beloved Yuu made another wave of tears such down his face as his hands desperately pulled them close. “You're okay.. You're… here..” his voice as weak as his partner held him tightly. Cater began to babble out his nightmare as his grip only got tighter. “I thought you were gone!” he would repeat between sobs. 

Their hands gently traced hearts and shapes into his back as they spoke so gently. Slowly, with their guidance, Cater began to calm down once again. When his grip loosened, Yuu took the opportunity to wipe his tears. Their hands moved to cup his cheeks when they were finished. “I'm right here cater. I'm not going anywhere. I promise.” they cooed as they placed a kiss on his forehead. “It was just a nightmare, my brilliant diamond.”

[somewhat-insane]

Kinda request? You can denial if you don't like.

Sun Wukong x Male!Reader

Just reader take control of everything and shower the king with love hc

Ooo~ Yes! I need more x Male!Reader things in the fandom. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to write gendered readers so I don't think there's actually any implication the reader is male but- just believe I had a Male!Reader in mind- (I hope I understood the request correctly-)

~Sun Wukong x Male!Reader ~

Tags: Ooc, fluff

!!Warnings!!: Wukong's my favorite character so I kinda lost control of this one a bit so just- manage your expectations, mentally ill monkey doesn't know how to be normal about emotions

Doesn't really know how to react at first when you scratch behind his ears and groom his fur and squish his cheeks

He's the monkey king after all! The Great Sage; Equal to heaven! He can't break just because someone treats him with "love" and "care" pfft... but also, don't stop

He's not used to people being so... forward with him in this way

Sure, he's used to MK's enthusiasm and even Mei's impulsive rage, but, aside from a hug here and there, he's not used to such blunt affection

Emotional rollercoaster

"Obviously you love me! I'm the monkey king! ... But also, why don't you hate me?"

He's pretty suspicious for a while but tries to hide it in front of the others

He'll drop passive-aggressive hints but won't be outwardly rude UNLESS you meet his energy in which case he will start being blunt and insult you to your face (though, at this point I'm like 90% sure he's trying to flirt but not even he knows. He just likes going back and forth with you; though he sometimes gets genuinely upset, especially if you mention his past or mental state. He'll sulk for a while but then he gets an idea for a good comeback and is back to his old self)

How and why you show him love will determine how quickly he gets vulnerable with you

If you're gentle with him and just genuinely want to show him love and care, then I'd give him anywhere between a week and a month

One day you do one loving thing too many and he snaps

Literally

You're just letting him lay his head on your shoulder while you play with his hair and suddenly he's snarling and baring his teeth demanding that you tell him what you're planning

"You must be planning something! Otherwise, why would you be doing all this nice stuff and act so affectionate?"

After arguing with him and trying to calm him down, he starts crying and, congrats! Now you have to comfort a crying, immortal, murder monkey who is clinging to you like you'll disappear

After that, I wouldn't say he fully believes you--he'll always be subconsciously waiting for you to betray him--but he does start seeking you out and letting you love on him (and now he returns the affection!)

On the other hand, if you just show him affection to tease him, it could take years for him to fully trust you

Kind of an enemies-to-lovers type thing except the enemy part is kind of one-sided (unless it's not and you hate him and I have to ask, why do you hate him he is literally the best boi-... that may or may not be a murderer but that's unrelated -3-)

He'll lay awake at night replaying times you've made him blush and he'll just be cursing at himself for all the weird feelings you make him feel

He'll go from "knowing you're just teasing and teasing back" to "believing you're teasing and wishes you weren't" to finally "GOd DAMNIT JUST KISS ME ALREADY YOU HANDSOME IDIOT"

Once you get over the trust hurdle, he'll definitely take advantage

Clingy (he could only hold back his inner monkey for so long and now he has to be touching you in some way, shape, or form every second of the day)

The moment you sit down he is in your lap and begging you for affection

Whines... all the time

"Nooooooooo, don't get out of bed, you haven't given me enough pats yet."

Won't let you leave until you give him a bunch of kisses

Uh-oh. Now he's cocky and will show off

It takes a while, but eventually, you have a clingy monkey who melts at your touch.

~

I'm sorry this took so long- As I stated earlier, Wukong's my favorite and I just- I could talk about him forever-

[istoleyoursk1n]

Hii 💕 can I request where Gale,Wyll,Halsin,Astarion are cuddling with a female Tav in the middle of the night the owl bear cub walks up to them and stares before trying to cuddle her as well thank you💕 sorry to bug

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅

How would the boys react to Tav cuddling with them at night ft. The owlbear cub!

.

.

: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“Gods, does it really have to join us? Yes? Oh, fine. But don't put the poor thing near me, darling, it smells! Don't give me that look, I said what I said.”

He likes the cub don't worry

It was a quiet night with you and Astarion, one which was spent with a couple of bottles of wine and the occasional silent laughter. All but him and you were awake at this time, bickering and bantering as the alcohol slowly sank in.

It started off with his usual snarky remarks in regards to your companions (Gale), then about the various foes you've both slayed and how they were absolutely hideous. Oh, and how he nearly broke a nail. He’s devastated.

Even so, the both of you were content with each other’s presence. a sudden warmth filling his otherwise undead heart.

Though he didn't admit it out loud just yet, he had never felt more alive in his life. Every moment he spent with you was making up for all the years of suffering he had been out through.

Who knew that one quiet night alone by the campfire could make him feel… hopeful. Hopeful that whatever you both may face, he wouldn't have to stand alone in fear. He has you.

And just when he thought the moment was right. Just when he thought he could finally lean in for the sweet kiss he’d finally come to initiate himself, that was when you both heard a sudden chirp.

The face he made when he suddenly saw his midnight snack the owlbear cub nudging against you was priceless, he couldn't decide whether he wanted to curse it or awe at the poor thing.

I mean. It was an adorable sight. But gods damnit this was supposed to be his moment! Nevertheless, he settled with cuddling both you and the owlbear (to his reluctance, he's still quite bitter about it.)

: ̗̀➛GALE

“Well hello there little one! I wasn't particularly expecting to have another join such a special night but how can I to turn away this fuzzy friend of ours? Perhaps I could put on another light show! Dedicated to the both of you this time. How does that sound?”

He was in the midst of conjuring a few light spells here and there as you two nuzzled up together, giving you a tiny little light show all for you.

He simply adored the twinkle in your eyes every time he began to show a few magic tricks here and there, anything to make you smile of course.

This man would light up the sky with the most brilliant of stars for you, but trust and believe that above all the comets and moons above, you will always be the most radiant thing he could have ever admired.

He probably would have tried to teach you a simple trick or two (assuming you aren't already a knowledgeable wizard such as himself), so both of you could light up the sky together.

He could have written a hundred love letters all in your name right then and there and still, each word could never have captured just how deeply he treasures you.

All his time studying and channeling the weave in all of its forms and yet all of the comforts and powers it may hold could never compare to the ultimate bliss he feels when he's with you.

He was a mere second from pulling you closer, a tiny inch closer from finally pressing a sweetened kiss against those spellbinding lips of yours, and he would have gotten it if it weren't for the damn owlbear pouncing atop him.

He nearly screamed He was all so good at pretending not to be startled. Despite the interruption, he could hardly remain upset for long, not when the cub was this adorable! However, he still managed to wriggle a quick kiss against the corners of your lips before you eagerly brought the owlbear closer to the both of you.

He was perfectly content with sharing you with the cute little thing, both of you felt so warm, and if he could, he’d be sleeping right then and there.

He did in fact fall asleep.

: ̗̀➛WYLL

“Oh! Well, won't you look at that! Perhaps our furry little companion would love a dance lesson of his own? No? Ha! Cuddling it is then, come here! Both of you! Nothing but another sweet thing to brighten up the mood.”

He had spent most of the night dancing away with you in his arms. In the bright glowing moonlight you looked absolutely stunning in ways dreams of his own could never compare.

While he wished for this intimate dance of yours to go on for longer, he was perfectly happy with cuddling up next to you too.

Amidst the silence of the night, he would whisper every sweet little thing he's come to adore about you, describing you in ways that could have made your heart swoon again and again.

You’d always find your own hand interlocked with his as if your hands were the only things he’d ever want to hold onto. His touch was always soft, no matter how smooth or calloused your own hands may be, he treated them as if they were the most fragile thing on earth.

The one thing that would shatter him completely is if, in the midst of cuddling, you decided to gently caress his horns or the ridges on his skin, kissing them would only take the words out of his lips. His heart is wholly yours, he couldn't ask for anything more!

If he could, he’d hum a soft tune, lulling you both into a peaceful rest where for just this night and hopefully many more, you both can be lost in a calming peace.

Everything seemed perfect, specifically the perfect time to finally plant a soft kiss against your lips. A kiss he knew would light his heart ablaze and scorch him completely, body and soul- but then he heard a soft little chirp.

He felt no bitterness at all the moment he saw those wide beady eyes of the camp’s lovely little owlcub stumble along to cuddle with you both. In fact, he practically lit up! He was already scooping up the damn thing as if it was his own child, already pulling the sweet cub into a hug.

The kisses he was going to give to you were given to the little bundle of joy, but don't worry! He does have some left reserved just for you.

: ̗̀➛HALSIN

“Hm, as they say, the more the merrier. Who am I to exclude one of nature’s own from a well-needed embrace. Isn't that right, my heart? Besides, the little one is far too adorable for me to simply ignore.”

He was already practically bear-hugging you from behind, capturing you in his arms so it was a tad bit difficult to escape. Though you could tell he was being as gentle as possible, a single tug and he’d let go of you if you so wished.

His head was buried against the crook of your neck, taking in your scent which he had come to grow absolutely obsessed with. There was always something about the way you smelled that made him all the more enchanted by you.

He wouldn’t say much, not when he was this relaxed, the sounds of nature around you both were enough to fill the silence.

You could tell that he was holding back, his hands trying their hardest to remain where they were rather than completely traveling all over your body. As much as he was able to hold himself back, it was always incredibly difficult to do so.

With your permission, his hands would go everywhere, worshipping each part of you as if you were a true deity. One that he was helplessly bewitched by.

There would be a subtle twitch from his fingers each time he touched another part of your body, almost as if he was resisting to urge to go further but he remained behaved. He would save the far more intimate nights for another day as this was supposed to be something far sweeter.

However, if you begin to touch him back? He’d be on the verge of losing himself entirely. Perhaps even a soft warning would slip out of his lips, attempting to both calm himself and stop you from pressing even further less this was what you truly wanted.

In the middle of all his resistance, he’d eventually lose control, his body once more transforming into a bear just as he always does when things became far too overwhelming for your sweet Druid, it was only the sound of a tiny chirp that managed to bring him back to his senses.

He’d calm down the moment he made eye contact with the owlbear cub, his bear form smiling down at the little creature as if he was truly pleased to see the small creature. What was going to be a rather intimate long night between you two soon became a happy little snuggle pile with you, bear Halsin, and the lovely owlbear cub.

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